#it shouldn’t be too difficult hopefully

[crybaby-bkg]

I’ve been getting more into creepy, obsessive, a little Yandere Dabi and Shigaraki and it’s driving me absolutely insane omfg

[hispanicranboo]

Gpa 1.04….

[cobrakaisb]

come one, come all

summary: percy jackson has finally arrived at camp half-blood, so why is he so shocked to see that people have genuine relationships here? aka, the four times percy thought you were dating luke, and the one time he actually asked. 

word count: 3.2k

featuring: percy pov!!, 4+1, vaping (again), sassy man apocalypse in the form of luke castellan, reader straight up not giving a fuck, percabeth crumbs (but you gotta squint)

author's note: i am so sorry for the delay with this one!! i was studying for finals, but now that i'm home from college for the summer, hopefully the updates will be more frequent 🤞

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hermes cabin, day one, early afternoon

“this is the hermes cabin, home to both his children and the unclaimed,” chiron explains, walking up to the very loud and very rambunctious building. 

percy peers inside, and he’s immediately filled with dread. there’s barely enough room in the cabin for the people that actually live there, let alone him. why couldn’t his father claim him already? if anything, percy thought losing his mother would have been enough; clearly it wasn’t. his dread only intensifies, however, when chiron starts clapping his hands, calling the attention of all the campers. 

“woah wait a minute,” percy mumbles, but it’s too late. 

“this is percy jackson, i trust you will see to whatever he needs,” chiron announces. 

it takes the campers approximately two seconds to go back to whatever they were doing beforehand. some campers’ eyes linger a little bit longer on him, but for the most part, they’re all indifferent to his presence. finding a spot proves to be difficult, as every nook and cranny is inhabited.

“you can sleep over there,” a girl says, annoyed.

“thanks,” percy mumbles, but it falls on deaf ears. 

the spot isn’t half bad, but it isn’t great either. he’s stuck in between two sets of bunk beds, on a sleeping bag. a sleeping bag. one would think the gods could splurge a little for an air mattress, but percy guesses they must be selfish, at least based on the signs of this cabin: overrun, overfilled, and underdeveloped. he’s unpacking his backpack, the last remnants of his life before his mom explained his paternal lineage, when the whispers start. 

“that’s the kid. i think he’s the one that killed the minotaur,” someone whispers, or at least they try to, but percy hears the whole thing. 

he turns around, and comes face to face with a group of older campers, all boys. they’ve clearly been here a while (in the hermes cabin, or at camp, percy isn’t sure) based solely on the fact that they’re so comfortable in this environment. a tall, curly black-haired boy steps forward, so percy stands up. he tries to size up the older boy, but if it comes to a fight, he doesn’t think he’ll win. 

“look, if you guys want to start something, can you just…do it tomorrow?” he asks. 

the older boy doesn’t say anything. instead, he just takes a moment to look at percy, up and down. percy’s breath catches in his throat when he catches sight of the long scar running from the corner of his right eye to his jaw. he’s intimidating, to say the least. 

“i’m..” the boy starts to say, but he’s cut off by the sound of loud laughter. 

percy turns to face the door, following the older boy’s lead, and sees two girls walk into the cabin. they’re both in workout gear, clearly just coming from a training session, but only one of them moves to drop her stuff on a bed — a bottom bunk in the left hand corner — and the other walks right up to the guy in front of him.

percy wants to warn her, tell her that she shouldn’t mess with this kid. but the grumpy guy smiles at her, completely forgetting about percy.

“busy day?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“something like that,” the boy mumbles, throwing a sideways glance in percy’s direction. 

“oh i see,” she answers slowly, and now both of their eyes are on him. 

“luke treating you okay?” she asks. 

percy gulps, unsure how to answer her. girls don’t really talk to him, but there’s a first time for everything, he understands that especially well now.  

“he literally just got here,” luke says, shoving your shoulder. 

you smile at the older boy, and there’s something more behind that stare, but percy can’t really figure out what. 

“if he steps out of line, you let me know,” she instructs, jabbing her thumb in luke’s direction. 

percy nods, “yeah sure.” 

she smiles at him, before walking towards the exit of the cabin. as she’s at the threshold between the inside and the outdoors, she turns around with a mischievous look in her eyes. 

“meet me later?” she asks. 

“i’ll be there,” luke answers. 

she nods, satisfied, and leaves. percy watches luke, who continues to watch her. his eyebrows furrow. maybe he just doesn’t understand teenagers?

hermes cabin, day two, morning

percy’s startled awake. the deep, guttural voice from his dream still haunting him. the darkness from the nightmare is looming over him like a dark cloud. his gasps and heavy breathing draw the attention of luke and his friends, the former leaving his bottom bunk to walk over to percy’s sleeping bag.  

“you okay?” luke asks. 

percy wonders if he’s genuinely concerned. “super,” he replies. 

“we all get them, y’know. deep, intense nightmares. comes with being a demigod,” luke explains, watching percy struggle to get up from his bed.

“so does adhd and dyslexia. they’re your battle instincts talking. everything that’s made you different, an outcast, is normal here,” luke continues to explain, now standing toe to toe with percy. 

there’s silence between the two. percy wants to ask him about his godly parent. it’s been weighing on him since he spoke with luke briefly yesterday. for some reason, however, he feels like the question is out of line, too personal for someone he just met. 

yet, he can’t help himself: “so are you also…do you not know…are you…”

“am i unclaimed? no, hermes is my father, but that doesn’t matter. we’re all family here,” luke replies, giving percy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

“and the girl from last night…is she…?” percy asks. 

luke chuckles at his uncertainty, clearly finding humor in his embarrassing situation. “no. she knows who her mother is. you should ask her about it.” 

percy nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. he feels angry all of a sudden looking around the hermes cabin. it’s filled to the brim with campers, some who know who their parents are, and others who don’t. he doesn’t think anyone should have to live like this; it’s not fair. 

“how can the gods just bring us here and ignore us? how is that fair?” percy asks. 

luke shakes his head, “spend all your time trying to figure out why the gods do what they do and you’ll go crazy. besides, you haven’t even experienced the best thing that camp has to offer.” 

“what’s that?” percy asks. 

“glory.”

percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. he vaguely remembers hearing mr. bruner, or chiron, talk about glory in class, but he can’t pinpoint the exact memory. the way luke talks about it, however, makes percy think that it must be important. there has to be some reason why everyone is fighting for glory, why they deal with all the dangers of being a demigod. 

“demigods used to fight for glory. they called it kleos. it attaches meaning to your name, making you bigger, scarier, and more important,” luke explains, leading percy outside of the hermes cabin, along with a handful of his friends. 

“it puts respect on your name,” luke’s friend, chris barges in. 

percy’s smiles at that. he likes the sound of glory, especially when some girl shoulders past him, pushing his body right into luke’s. percy stumbles, turning to face the back of the girl. he wasn’t going to deal with this bullying crap at summer camp of all places. 

“hey,” he shouts, getting her attention. 

she turns around, immediately shoving him into the ground. percy gasps, staring up at her in shock, but before she can get a word in, the girl from last night is standing in front of him. 

“knock it off clarisse. it’s like his first day,” luke mumbles. 

the girl from last night helps him up, and he smiles at her in thanks. she nods, giving him a once over, ensuring that he’s okay before she turns back to clarisse. it’s like a switch flipped inside her. those same eyes, the ones showing kindness towards him just a mere second ago, are now filled with cold, hard, anger. 

clarisse says something to taunt him, but the girl just shakes her head, crossing her arms against her chest. 

“jealous that it wasn’t you?” she taunts, stepping into clarisse’s personal space. 

“no,” clarisse snaps, facing the other girl head on. 

“really? cause it sounds like you wish you were standing in his shoes right now. maybe then daddy would give you a little bit of attention, huh?” she replies. 

luke whispers her name in a seething tone, hand pulling on her shoulder to move her away from clarisse. however, she jerks out of his grip, continuing to stare head on at the curly haired girl with a satisfied smirk playing at her lips. 

“you better watch your back,” clarisse snaps, looking at percy once again before storming off. 

“and you better watch yours,” the girl, who’s still standing in front of percy protectively answers. 

clarisse doesn’t respond, and so luke takes the time to reprimand you. his voice is soft, and percy can barely hear, let alone register, the words coming out of his mouth. you roll your eyes at whatever he’s saying, barely paying attention. instead, percy notices that your eyes aren’t leaving luke’s lips, and he’s again left wondering what’s going on between the two of you. 

“but if i wasn’t here, who was gonna play hero?” you ask, a soft pout on your lips.

percy can tell you’re teasing luke, trying to get a rise out of him, but the older boy just shakes his head in response. percy watches as your finger reaches under his bright orange shirt, looping through one of the belt loops of his cargoes. luke leans down slightly, and percy thinks he might kiss you, but you step away from him in a fit of giggles. 

“i’ll see you later, counselor luke,” you tease, walking backwards so everyone can see the teasing smile on your face. 

percy makes a mental note not to get on your bad side. 

dining pavilion, day two, evening

“is there a greek god of disappointment, maybe someone should ask if he’s missing a kid,” percy grumbles, taking a seat at the table across from luke and chris. 

after a long day of training, with little to no rewards, percy felt utterly defeated. there was some good that came out of the day’s events, however, as he realized his lack of coordination did not make him a strong candidate for the apollo cabin. similarly, setting fire to the already burning forges had luke and chris ruling out hephaestus. regardless, he just wanted his dad to recognize him. after a life of torment and the loss of his mom, the one person who loved him, he could use the validation.

luke opens his mouth, ready to answer his previous question, but chris beats him to it.

“oizys…but she’s a goddess and her whole thing isn’t really disappointment, it’s failure,” chris mumbles, pushing around the salad on his plate. 

“oh my gods chris, don’t scare the kid,” you shout, shoving his shoulder as you take a seat next to percy. 

another girl follows behind you, taking the seat on the other side of percy. he feels himself going rigid, why are these two older girls sitting by his side? he feels nervous all of a sudden, and wonders if this is normal. he looks nervously to luke, who seems to be the only one capable of providing actual guidance in these types of situations. 

luke doesn’t say anything, instead he’s too busy looking at you. 

“having daddy issues?” the girl on his right, who’s not you, asks. 

“um i guess,” percy answers, but he’s not confident in his words at all. 

the girl chuckles at him, a hand coming up to ruffle his blonde hair, and percy watches as her eyes twinkle with something akin to childish mischief. 

“maybe you’re her step-brother,” she says, gesturing towards you with a tip of her chin. 

“are you a child of aphrodite?” percy asks, because maybe this nice girl is referring to ares as his father. 

you stop chewing your dinner, shock crossing your features. the other three teens all burst into laughter, and percy doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his question. you’re pretty enough, and you seem to possess a tiny bit of mean girl energy (cause only regina george would have demolished clarisse like that). therefore, the logical conclusion is that you’re related to aphrodite. besides, aren’t ares and aphrodite secretly dating? so he’d be your step-brother? 

“what?” he asks, looking around. 

“aphrodite is not my mother,” you answer, white-knuckling the fork. 

“oh,” he says, “so who is?” 

percy watches as your jaw clenches, and you flash a dangerous look in luke’s direction. luke lifts his hands up in a state of defense, as if to say that he didn’t put percy up to this. you, however, don’t seem to believe him as you take one of the green grapes on your plate and chuck it at him. luke catches the grape in his mouth, chewing slowly with a smirk on his face. 

“almost sweetheart,” he taunts. 

you scoff before getting up from the table, with your plate, and walking towards the firepit in the middle of the pavilion. on your way over, you stick your fingers through luke’s curls, and shove his face down towards his mashed potatoes. 

“did i do something wrong?” he asks, looking at the remaining girl to his right. 

“nah, she’s always like that,” she answers.

“yeah,” chris mumbles, “if anyone knows it’s katrina.” 

they jump into their own conversation and percy watches as you drop your entire dinner into the fire pit. the flames turn a deep purple and you nod in satisfaction before walking off towards the cabins. 

he can’t figure out who likes the color purple, but wonders if it had anything to do with luke. however, he knows not to ask.

hermes cabin, day two, night

percy was supposed to be asleep twenty minutes ago, at least that’s when luke called for lights out and everyone crawled into bed. but, he really needs to use the bathroom. poor planning on his part, not going before bed time, but he knows he’ll never make it until morning. so, he gets up as quietly as possible, slips on his blue hoodie, and tip-toes towards the door of the hermes cabin. 

he hesitates for a moment, hearing two people talking quietly outside the door. he waits patiently, hoping that they’ll leave, but their conversation only keeps going. 

“and annabeth’s sure about this?” someone asks, and percy realizes that it’s you.

the other person scoffs, “you doubting my sister?”, and percy pinpoints the voice as luke’s.

“never. i’m doubting him,” you answer.

“c’mon, you know clarisse picks on everybody,” luke mumbles.

there’s a pause in the conversation, and percy thinks maybe you’ve left or moved on, but then your voice rings out into the quiet of the night: 

“i have this feeling that he’s important, but i can’t figure out why.” 

another pause. 

“we’ll see when he gets claimed,” luke answers. 

“if he gets claimed,” you reply. 

“he will, even if it’s hera style,” luke says, and percy can’t help himself from opening the door. 

“your mom’s hera? i thought she didn’t have kids!” percy shouts, shocking both you and luke. 

you jump, and percy watches as you move to hide the bright orange vape in your hand. you wave away some of the smoke, and luke steps slightly in front of you, blocking your body from percy’s view. he notices the protective edge in luke’s posture, and how there was already very little space between you two. 

“what are you doing out past curfew?” luke asks, staring percy down. 

“i could ask you the same thing, but for the record, i’m going to the bathroom,” percy explains, standing his guard. 

“just be quick, and watch out for the harpies,” you advise, tugging on the back of luke’s camp counselor shirt. 

percy nods before walking by the two of you to head down the stairs. once he’s a little ways away, he risks a glance back at the hermes cabin porch. you’re still standing there with luke, his palms resting on your waist as he rubs circles with his thumb on your exposed skin. you two are whispering about something, but he can’t figure out what. he sees you slip luke your vape, but looks away when the older boy takes a hit. 

that seemed oddly intimate. 

lakeshore, day three, post-capture the flag

he’s in for it now, at least that’s what he assumes when he sees half of clarisse’s spear in his fist. she screams loudly, and percy hopes that you’ll hear and come to his rescue. thankfully, his saving grace comes in the form of the head counselor of the hermes cabin. 

luke comes rushing down the side lines, holding the red flag high above his head. several people are following him, the entire blue team in fact, but percy can easily pinpoint you in the crowd. you don’t have a helmet on, which isn’t surprising to him; it fits your character. he notices how the baby hairs stick to your sweaty forehead, yet your eyes are bright and happy. this has to be the happiest he’s seen you. 

your eyes never leave luke, even as he accepts hugs, handshakes, and overall congratulations from the other members of the team. finally, after the novelty of winning wears off, and his siblings finally give luke some space, you walk over to him. you shoulder check him, causing him to stumble a little on his feet, but the happiness doesn’t leave either of your eyes. 

percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. you’re mean to luke, but you’re also not mean to luke. 

“where’s my hug at?” luke asks, opening his arms wide for you. 

you snort at him, shoving him backwards with a firm hand on his chestplate. luke doesn’t seem to mind, however, as his smile widens and he pulls off his helmet. he shakes his head back and forth, letting his curls loose after being confined for so long. percy watches you watch him, bottom lip between your teeth. luke opens his mouth, ready to say something, but you prevent him from even doing so. instead, you grab onto the brown leather straps of his armor, and pull his lips down to yours.

all the campers ring out in cheers. some of them even clap at the display of affection from the two of you. 

“so they’re dating?” he asks no one in particular. 

“yes,” annabeth answers from beside him. 

he turns to look at her, understanding washing over him. you and luke are perfect for each other, balancing each other out. percy hopes he’ll find something like that with someone. he looks around camp, and his eyes land on annabeth, who magically appeared next to him. 

“hey wait…were you here the whole time?” percy asks her, feeling a little angry that she basically watched him get his ass kicked by clarisse. 

“percy,” she starts, “i’m really sorry about this,” and she pushes him into the water.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles

[bueckers]

UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers ( 2 )

synopsis: putting an end to everything, drea thinks she’s totally and completely done with paige bueckers. that is until the blonde is finally honest with her.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc

warnings: angst and smut. they’re so toxic but also like made for each other.. alcohol use, scissoring, fingering, lots of paige’s hands.

notes: another long one so there wasn’t any major cliffhangers, hopefully this makes up for the wait.. :) also a paige & flau’jae feature because i love them sm.

The morning sunlight filters through the hotel curtains, and she’s sitting at the edge of the bed. I can feel the space next to me where she was lying, still warm but empty now. She’s moving around, getting dressed, and I’m fighting the urge to reach out and pull her back into bed. But I know I shouldn’t.

“You don’t have to go yet,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. It’s more of a plea than an offer, and I hate how desperate I sound. I can see her hesitate, her back to me as she fiddles with her shirt. For a second, I think she might stay, but then she turns to face me, and I can see the determination in her eyes. Why was it so difficult for me to just say it?

“Except I do. We never actually talked… if you missed that part,” she says, and I try to ignore the slight raise in her voice.

In attempt to busy myself, I grab my shirt from off the ground and pull it over my head. “The whole point of last night was to avoid that, Drea. We ain’ gotta talk about it.” I respond, and I’m only half joking, but I still wince at how much of a dick I sound.

She’s serious, and instead of agreeing or starting an argument, she ignores it. “Look,” she starts, and I can see her struggling to find the right words, her eyes glued to the bedsheets. Not me. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to say anything, that I get it, she deserved an explanation. But I don’t want to make it easy for her. Not when I know this is probably the last time we’re going to be like this.

“Last night.. it shouldn’t have happened.”

I furrow my eyebrows. "You don’t gotta say that. It’s not like we didn’t both want it,” I huff out.

She looks at me a certain way, and I can tell she hasn’t put much thought into what she’s saying. But she’s saying it anyway. "That’s not what I mean," she says quickly, like she’s trying to fix it. "I’m not saying I didn’t want it. I just… I shouldn’t have let things get so deep between us. How things ended.. it’s my fault.”

Her fault? She shouldn’t have let things get so deep? Theres no way she means these things, right? She stands there, biting her lip, and I know she’s waiting for me to say something. My throat feels tight, and my mind is a mess. I’m caught between wanting to shout at her, to tell her how wrong she is, and just shutting down completely.

This is Drea. The one person who’s always known how to get under my skin, in ways both good and bad. And now, while she’s standing right in front of me, telling me she regrets how deep we got, that basically, she thinks I cut her off because she caught feelings, I can’t help but feel like a fool. I spent so much time convincing myself that she didn’t feel the way I did, that I’d imagined the whole thing. Now it turns out she was in it too. And I don’t know what to do with that.

I wanna tell her to stop, to not say anything more. But I can’t let myself be that vulnerable, not when I’ve spent so long trying to protect whatever pieces of myself I have left. This is, like, the biggest joke of my life, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

When I finally do speak, my voice comes out quieter than I expect, almost detached. “So, what now? We just pretend none of this ever mattered?”

Drea’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see something flicker in them—regret, maybe, or doubt. It seems like this is the most straightforward conversation we’ve had about the way we actually feel, and everything’s coming to light and an end at the same time. Just as quickly, she pushes it away, her expression hardening, and it makes every dot in my mind connect. “I’m not saying it didn’t matter. It did. That’s why we need to stop.” She’s trying so hard to be the rational one, to be the one who ends this cleanly. But nothing about this is clean.

I nod slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Fine. If that’s what you want.” God, I even sound bitter.

She looks at me like she’s searching for something—maybe a reason to stay, or maybe just confirmation that this is the right choice. But then she sighs, her shoulders sagging with the weight of it all, and I know nothing, at least in this moment, would change her mind about me.

“Please take care of yourself.” She kept me grounded when I couldn’t find my footing, and those words just feel so cruel. It sounded like we’d never be speaking again, and I hated that thought.

I nod, unable to trust my voice, and then she’s gone. And just like that, it’s over. Or at least, it’s supposed to be.

A few days pass in a blur, and my time in Phoenix is slowly coming to an end. It’s safe to say the events of the city had only temporarily kept my mind off of everything, and now I’m sitting in a bar with Flau’jae, trying my best not to let the rain cloud over my head poke out. She’s talking, animated as ever, but I’m only half-listening, my mind drifting back to Drea more often than I’d like to admit.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Her voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

I blink, forcing out a smile. “Sorry,” I apologize, stretching my arms out in a way to reset. “I’m listening now. Promise.”

Flau’jae narrows her eyes at me, clearly not buying it. “Nah, you’re not,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. “What’s got you so deep in thought? You’ve been acting like you’re here, but not really here, y’know?”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “Just tired, I guess. Been a long week.”

She studies me for a moment, her gaze sharp. “Uh-huh. And this long week wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain someone, would it?”

I bite my lip, trying to stay cool. Flau’jae doesn’t know about Drea and me—no one does, really. We made sure of that. But if anyone’s gonna pick up on something, it’s her. I should’ve known better than to think I could just sit here and pretend everything’s fine.

“Maybe,” I say vaguely, hoping that’s enough to satisfy her curiosity. “I just got a lot on my mind, I’m fine,” I reassure, furrowing my eyebrows as if it was nothing to worry about.

She raises an eyebrow, leaning in like she’s about to uncover some big secret. “Stuff, huh? Girl stuff?”

I roll my eyes, trying to play it off. “You’re too nosy for your own good, you know that?”

She grins, laughing a little. “Paige! Come on, spill. Who is she?”

I hesitate, and for a second, I consider telling her everything. But that’s a slippery slope, and I’m not ready to go there. So instead, I won’t reveal too much. “It’s complicated,” I sigh.

Flau’jae crosses her arms, fully intrigued. “Complicated how?” She could be a detective.

I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. “Just... complicated. Things didn’t end the way they were supposed to. And now I’m stuck trying to figure out what to do next.”

She nods slowly, taking that in. “So, you and this girl… y’all were close?”

“Yeah,” I huff out, nodding as I press my lips together. “Real close.”

Flau’jae gives me a knowing look. “Thats who you was texting last night at the game?”

“Maybe,” I drag out, a shit-eating grin gracing my face. Then I slip up. “I was jus’ too scared to say anything to her face.”

Her eyes widen, and she brings a hand up to cusp her lips. It takes me a bit to realize, and as soon as I do, she cuts me off. Damn it. “Thats why you was hugging her a little too long after the final buzzer.”

“Hey! I ain’ even say a name,” I say quickly and louder than intended, trying to backtrack.

She leans forward, eyes wide with amusement. “You didn’t have to! You gave me everything I needed to know. Paige, what the hell? You and Drea, for real? I didn’t know you had game like that.”

I jerk my head back, scrunching my face up at her. There was no doubt that Drea was one of the prettiest faces in the game, and the fact that she can ball too just really adds to it. “I can show you what these rizz hands can do,” I joked momentarily. “It wasn’t even supposed to be a thing, though. We kept it on the low for a reason.”

Flau’jae shakes her head, holding her lips a little tighter now. “You know what Twitter would do with this? You been out here sneaky-linking and didn’t even give me a heads-up?”

Sneaky-linking? Was that really what it was? “Can we stop talking about this?” I say, half-laughing despite myself.

“And y’all met in high school, too. That’s some next-level soulmatism or something.”

I chuckle, licking my lips as I lift up my drink. The clinking of the ice fills the silence, and I’m able to put a close to the conversation. “It’s over now, anyway. Doesn’t matter.” It’s a lie. We’d clearly went over that it did matter.

Flau’jae studies me for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if she can see right through me. But then she lifts her hands up in surrender, a smirk playing on her lips. “Alright, if it’s really over, how about you find someone tonight? You could use it if I’m being honest,” She retorts, referring to the mood I’ve been in the entire night because of my situation.

“Chill!” I laugh, shaking my head as I lean back in my chair myself. “You make it sound so easy.”

She shrugs, and I hesitate, taking a second to let my eyes wander around the bar. A couple of eyes meet mine, lingering longer than what’s considered normal. I’m not sure if they might know who I am, or just think I’m attractive. Or maybe both.

Flau’jae seems to notice too, shooting me a wild and bright smile. “See? you still got it. Just make a good choice.”

The car hums beneath me, the city lights flashing past as I sink into the leather of the backseat, my head leaning against the window. I can still taste the alcohol on my tongue, and my mind is replaying the past few hours like a hazy, disconnected reel. All I can think about is her.

You’d think after a night out I’d at least be able to get the mass of Drea off my mind, but I think it just made everything worse. No matter how hard I try to push her out, physically and emotionally, she’s always there, right on the edge of my thoughts.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, my thumb hovering over her contact. I know I shouldn’t text her. I know it’s a bad idea. But our last conversation on repeat and the emptiness from earlier are making my judgment untrustworthy, and before I can stop myself, I’m typing out a message.

Yo, you up?

I stare at the screen, the words staring back at me. It’s a weak attempt, but I’m past caring. A part of me almost hopes she won’t respond, that she’ll leave me to deal with the consequences of my choices alone. But then I add another text, like I can’t help myself.

Idc if you’re not

It feels like a challenge. Like I’m daring her to ignore me, to stay out of it. But I know that’s not what I want.

I swallow hard and send one last message, my fingers trembling slightly as I type.

You still in Phoenix, right?

The words hang there, waiting for her response. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s from the countless amounts of dirty shirley’s or the anticipation of hearing from her. Or both. I really hope I don’t throw up in this car.

I lean back in the seat in attempt to relax, but I can literally hear my heart beating. I wonder if the driver can, really. I don’t know what I’m hoping for, but I know that if she’s still here, if she answers… I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist whatever comes next.

The minutes stretch out in silence, broken only by the occasional sound of the car’s tires hitting a pothole. I keep my eyes glued to the screen, watching the three little dots appear and disappear. I should put my phone away, maybe even go back to the hotel and sleep this off, but I can’t. I’m too far gone for that.

The Uber turns down another quiet street, and I feel the weight of my decisions pressing down on me. It’s not just about tonight. It’s about all the nights that led up to this, every bad choice that brought me to this moment. The thought of facing it alone is unbearable, and I realize that’s why I texted her. Not because I want her to come over, but because I don’t want to be alone. Or that I do, just with her.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I almost drop it in my rush to check the screen.

Why?

A single word, blunt and to the point. She’s guarded, as usual. But the fact that she responded at all makes me happy enough.

I just… I hesitate, staring at the blinking cursor. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say, but I settle on honesty.

Just wanna see you. Is that so bad?

I hit send before I can second-guess myself. My fingers hover over the screen again, and then I add another message.

I don’t wanna stop seeing you fr

It’s more than I planned to say, more vulnerable than I planned to be, but it’s the truth. And I’m too tired of pretending otherwise.

The reply comes quickly this time, and I can almost hear her voice in the words.

Are you drunk texting me right now?

And no, you mean you don’t wanna stop fucking me

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut, and for a moment, I just stare at the screen, the bright light from my phone casting harsh shadows in the dark car. I can feel the truth in what she’s saying, but it’s only part of it. Yeah, we’ve been physical, and I’m not denying that’s been a big part of this whole thing, but it’s not just that.

No, Drea. It’s more than that. We both know it always was.

You said it three days ago.

I hesitate before hitting send, but I know I have to. I can’t keep hiding behind the bullshit. She deserves better than that even if she won’t appreciate it.

The reply doesn’t come right away, and the silence feels like it’s pressing in on me from all sides. I shift in my seat. This whole thing—this whole night—feels like I’m balancing on a razor’s edge, and I’m terrified of falling off.

When her response finally comes, it’s short.

It’s 2am.

Ok, it’s not ideal. but I can’t stop thinking about everything you said.

And everything I didn’t say.

There’s another long pause, and I can almost picture her on the other end, trying to figure out what to say. We’ve been dancing around each other for so long, caught up in this push and pull, and now it feels like we’re on the verge of something, but neither of us knows how to take the next step.

Then, her next message comes through, and it’s enough to make my chest tighten. It’s hesitant but willing.

Where are you?

Outside your hotel.

Her reply is instant this time.

Come up.

I shove my phone into my pocket and step out of the Uber, my mind on a million as I make my way to her room. Every step feels heavy as if I’m walking through mud, but there’s a part of me that knows this is where I need to be—where I’ve always needed to be.

When I reach her door, it swings open almost as soon as I knock, and there she is, standing in front of me. Her eyes are guarded, just like her text messages, but I can see something softer underneath. Something that tells me she’s just as scared of this as I am.

“Paige,” she says, her voice a little wistful as she fiddles with the door knob. She looks me up and down, almost as if I’m being examined before I’m allowed in.

I don’t know what to say, so I just step forward, closing the distance between us. “I’m not drunk,” I state, shooting down her concerns from a few moments ago. She wouldn’t proceed if there was a chance I wouldn’t remember anything in the morning.

She looks at me for another long moment, like she’s trying to decide if she believes me. Then, with a sigh, she steps aside, letting me in. The door closes behind me with a soft click, and I lean against it. Suddenly we’re alone in her room, the reality of the situation settling around us.

“I know I shouldn’t have texted. But I did, and I’m glad I’m here.” I ramble, although still stern.

She sighs, and the curls that fall perfectly over her shoulders bounce a bit. Shes in a pair of short pajama shorts and a long, grey Nike tee-shirt that could’ve been mine. Correction, it definitely is mine. “You’re making this so much harder than it has to be.”

“It doesn’t have to be hard. We can make it less complicated.” I try to reason.

She stiffens, her breath catching as she looks at me, her eyes searching mine. “I—“

“I’m serious,” I cut her off, my voice low as I step closer to her. I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking. “I don’t know when I’m gonna see you again. And I can’t… I can’t leave tomorrow without letting you know how much I care.”

I don’t say it out loud, but the words are there, hanging in the air between us. I love you. And I’m sorry. But I can’t bring myself to say it. I don’t know why. Instead, I just hope she can feel it, hoping she knows without me having to spell it out.

“You can’t keep doing this,” she says quietly, her back turned to me as she walks further into the room. “Running to me when you’re feeling lost. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” I admit, taking a step closer. “But I’ont know how to stop. I’ve tried, but… since you’ve been apart of my life it’s been hard to let you go. I don’t wanna lose you—“

“You already did,” she cuts me off, turning to face me, and it scares me how serious she sounds. There’s pain in her eyes, but there’s also something else—something that makes me hope, even if just for a second. “We both did.”

I close the gap between us, and I can tell it catches her by surprise because of the look she gives me. My hands gently cup her face. “Then why am I here? Why did you let me in again?”

She glances down at my lips, and despite being angry, she doesn’t respond with words. Physicality has always been our response for everything involving each other. It’s all we know. She leans into my touch, and it feels like a birthday gift. Her eyes flutter shut before she opens them again, and it’s enough to make me lean in, pressing my lips to hers in a kiss that’s more desperate than anything else.

She kisses me back, her hands finding their way to my shoulders as she pulls me closer, and for a moment, it feels like everything else fades away. It’s just us, tangled up in each other, trying to find something solid to hold onto.

But then she pulls back, breathless, her hands still resting on my shoulders. She’s looking down, like she’s fighting some internal battle. “Oh my God,” she whispers, shaking her head. “You are drunk.”

“I told you I’m not,” I murmur, trying to find her eyes and pull her back to me by the waist, but she resists, her fingers gripping my shoulders tighter. Her resistance is strong, her fingers digging into my shoulders as if she’s trying to push away the intensity of the moment. “Please, Drea.”

She shakes her head, eyes still averted. “I can taste the alcohol!” She brings her thumb up to brush over my lips. “I knew it, why the fuck would you lie?” She’s trying to walk away at this point, but my grip is too tough. I won’t let her go.

“No, listen,” I say, more eager and clear. “What I said, what I meant—none of that has to do with being drunk. I’m here because I need you. Because I want you. This isn’t just about tonight.”

Drea’s resolve falters, her eyes flickering back to mine with her perfectly arched eyebrows crinkling up just a bit. “You’re saying all the right things, but I can’t just ignore—”

I cut her off by pulling her closer, my grip firm but gentle on her hips. My thumbs move beneath her shirt, stroking her skin and feeling the muscle. “I know.” My lips are ghosting over her ear. “But please, just for tonight, let’s not think about it.” I press a kiss right below it. “Just be with me. Let’s just be here.”

“Paige..” she starts again, her voice softer this time, and I love it when she says my name. I lean in, silencing her with a kiss that’s both insistent and tender. She melts into it, her resistance breaking as she wraps her arms around my neck. Shes quick to sneak her tongue in, the movement making me wince, furrowing my brows at how good she tastes.

I guide her backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she falls onto it with a soft thud. I follow her down, my body pressing against hers as our kiss grows more fervent. My hands explore her curves, skimming over the fabric of her shirt as it rides up, and I feel her shiver beneath me.

“Is this mine?” I breathe against her lips, the warmth of her hands on my cheeks making my face flush a vibrant red. Drea nods, her breath hitching as she catches the look in my eyes. Without another word, I grab the hem of her shirt and yank it up over her head, tossing it aside. The shirt hits the floor, and she starts giggling like a school girl, her chest now fully exposed and daunting.

The sound of her laughter makes my stomach flip, and I can’t help but grin, leaning down to capture her mouth in another kiss. This time, there’s no hesitation, no holding back. Our bodies press together, her skin warm and soft against mine, like it was made for me.

My hands begin to wander a bit too much, all the way down to her shorts. Slipping my hand in, I can already feel how wet she is. She lets out a soft gasp as I trace slow, deliberate circles against her clit firmly. “Tell me what you want, baby,” I whisper, my breath fanning over her neck.

Her body has always reacted to every touch, every word. She’s trying to stay composed, but I can tell she’s barely holding on. Her hips instinctively push against my hand, silently begging for more, but I keep my movements steady, torturously slow and sloppy. I want to hear her say it.

“You,” she breathes out, her voice wavering. She’s antsy, I can feel it—the way her muscles tense, the way her breath comes in shallow pants.

“C’mon,” I murmur, nipping at her earlobe. “You can do better than that.”

She whimpers, her hands gripping my shoulders, nails digging into my skin as she tries to find the words. “Please… I need—” She breaks off, a soft moan escaping her lips when I press harder, right where she needs it most.

But then she grabs my wrist, stopping me just before she can fall over the edge. Her eyes lock with mine, and they’re low, dark, and daring. Three words that are very Drea. “Stop,” she says, her voice firmer now, even though I can tell it’s taking all her willpower. “I wanna feel you.”

The way she says it—so raw, so desperate—it’s enough to make me slip into a trance. I pull back, my gaze lingering on her as I strip off the rest of my clothes, watching as she does the same. Every inch of her is so perfect to the point where it should be a crime, and I want to touch every part.

I lay back on the bed, and she climbs on top of me, her movements deliberate and careful as she positions herself right over the bottom half of my body. I let my hands slide down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist before coming to rest on her ass. I tilt my head slightly against the pillows, mouth slightly agape. I can’t resist giving her a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft noise from her. I smile, and my hands linger there, holding her close as she settles into place. We’ve done this countless amounts of times, and every single time it feels different. Better.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy, you know that?” I pull her hips down, aligning our bodies perfectly, and the feeling of her heat against mine makes my breath catch, but I’m still focused. “Could stay like this all night.”

Drea licks her lips, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she adjusts herself, the friction and jolting of our bodies a whole whirlpool of pleasure. “You better,” she whispers back, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as her hands grip my legs so she can find herself.

Slowly, she starts to move, her hips grinding down against mine in a smooth rhythm. Every slide of her body against me is agonizingly perfect, and I can’t help the groan that escapes as she finds a pace that makes my whole body push up against her.

My eyebrows furrow as I take sight of where we meet, her pussy flat against mine. The squelching of our juices together fills the room, and I lose it. Maybe the alcohol is accentuating the feeling for me, or she’s just this good. “Fuck…” I breathe out, my hands roaming up her back, feeling the muscles flex and move beneath her skin. “You feel so good. Always so good.”

Her response is a soft moan, her head falling forward slightly as she loses herself. I let my hands slide back down to her ass, guiding her movements, making sure every grind, every brush of our bodies, hits just right. I can feel her trembling, her thighs shaking as she picks up the pace, chasing that high.

I can’t resist teasing her a little, my hands kneading her ass as she rides me, my fingers brushing just along the edge of her entrance, close enough to make her squirm but not enough to give her what she really wants. She lets out a frustrated moan, hips moving harder, trying to get more.

“Paige!” she groans, voice full of need and just the right amount of anger, her breath coming out in ragged pants. “Stop playing with me. I can’t take it.”

My grip tightens, and I keep her exactly where I want her, reaching up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear, my fingers lingering as I brush my thumb gently along her cheek. “You can take it, baby,” I whisper. “I know you can.”

She looks at me with those pleading eyes, her breath hitching as she adjusts herself, arching her back more. The movement pushes her even closer to me, our bodies pressing together, and the feeling almost sends me over the edge.

Without warning, I dip two fingers into her entrance, the sight too pretty to resist. It makes her gasp, her body collapsing forward against me. Our skin sticks together, warm too from the sweat, and her chest is pressing against mine as she struggles to catch her breath.

Before she can lose herself entirely, I slide my hand to her lower stomach, pushing her back up, guiding her into place. “Nah, stay up w’me, ma.” My voice is shaky with the effort of holding it together. Out of breath, mouth wide open. “Hold that shit.”

She whines out, her voice high and so pornographic. “Mm—oh, I can’t…” Her words trail off into a desperate moan, her body shuddering as my fingers move in that come-hither motion, curling inside her just right. The feeling of her slick is almost too much to bear, making my head spin.

I push through, keeping her steady even as I feel myself starting to lose control. “You can,” I pant, my breath coming out in ragged bursts. “So close, I know you can do it.”

She’s trembling, her thighs shaking as she tries to follow my command, but I can see the strain on her face, her dilated pupils, the way she’s fighting to keep herself together. My fingers work faster, deeper, and she bites down so hard on her lip I swear it might bleed.

Finally, when I feel her body tighten around me, right on the edge of breaking, I tap her ass lightly with my palm and pull my fingers out just enough to catch everything. “Now, baby. Come for me.”

The moment I say it, she lets go, and we come together, our bodies moving in sync, the room filled with strangled noises. The pleasure is blinding, overwhelming, and I cling to her as we ride it out. She’s finally able to fall on top of me comfortably, hand resting on my chest.

We stay like that for a moment, tangled together, both of us shaking with the aftershocks, until we finally start to come down. I press a soft kiss to her temple, my heart still racing (for more than one reason I’ll admit) as I hold her close.

I can feel her hesitance, scared to move or say anything. But I can also feel her tiredness, the way her body sags against mine like she’s too worn out to keep up any walls.

Gently, I shift, moving my body so I’m laid up next to her, our limbs tangling together naturally. My arm stays draped around her, holding her close as she nestles her head into the crook of my neck, her breath warm against my skin. It feels good—too good—like maybe we could stay like this forever if we didn’t know better.

“I want you to mean what you said. All of it.” 

Her words hang, and I can feel her hesitation, the fear that I’m just saying things because it’s easier than dropping the bomb or just straight losing her. I swallow, pulling her closer.

“You’ont think I did?”

“Paige.”

“Drea, I do.”

She doesn’t respond right away, just presses herself deeper into me, like she’s trying to believe it, trying to let herself see us being more than what we are right now without it turning into shit. I know how hard that is, how many times we’ve proven we aren’t made for each other.

“Then prove it,” she finally murmurs, her voice a little stronger now, like she’s challenging me, daring me to back it up.

I nod against her, not sure if she can even feel it, but I know what she means. It’s not about words anymore—it’s about what comes next, and whether we can make it work. “I will,” I promise, and for once, I really believe it.

[ddarker-dreams]

“Can I squish your cheeks Scara. Please.”

The room goes so silent, you swear you could hear a pin drop.

He looks at you like you’re a ghost. Or someone with three heads. Maybe a ghost with three heads. Eyebrows raised, mouth agape, head tilted. Sheepishness threatens to overcome you, yet you stay strong. Getting the request out in the first place was the hard part, you internally reason. Dealing with the subsequent fallout shouldn’t be too bad in comparison. 

... Hopefully. 

“Why?” he doesn’t seem upset, or any negative emotion that’d spell trouble for you, just genuinely curious. If not a touch taken aback. 

“I don’t know, why do I ever do anything?” 

“If I was capable of answering that question, I’d be wiser than Sumeru’s puny excuse of a god,” Scaramouche returns, his words sharp but his tone dull. He sighs far heavier than he needs to at your expectant staring. “Let me guess. If I don’t indulge this foolish whim of yours, you’ll sit over there and sulk for the remainder of the day.” 

Can the king of sulking when he doesn’t get what he wants from you really be complaining about you doing the same? Probably, but that doesn’t make it any less ironic in your eyes. You wisely choose to keep this observation to yourself. 

“I can neither confirm nor deny this allegation.” 

Scaramouche rolls his eyes at your petulance. “... Very well, you insufferable creature. Be quick about it before I change my mind.” 

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. 

You stride over, victorious, fingers at the ready. He crosses his arms over his chest and glances to the side. His lithe frame is noticeably taut. He’s moved his lips over to one side, which causes his cheek to jut out. The temptation to go for a pinch instead is strong and takes a moment to push down. 

“What are you waiting for?” He snaps, his voice too thin to hold any real weight. 

Your fingers press against his rapidly flushing face. It could be your overactive imagination, but you swear you feel the slightest tingle of electricity in doing so. Without further ado, you give him a gentle squeeze. Once. Twice. Then thrice. 

His skin is so soft. 

“Okay, enough of that,” he swats your hands away with a scowl. You’re about to complain when he mirrors your previous action, squeezing the skin of your cheeks outward with a tenderness that belies his menacing expression. 

“What?” He chuckles, rightfully knowing you’ll have a difficult time responding in this state. “You didn’t think I’d want something out of this? How naïve. Now it’s my turn. I’ll think about being gentle if you make a cute enough face.” 

[kentosbabes]

D for an A.

Professor Nanami who walked into class on the first day not expecting to see you, you had met previously at a party hosted by one of his college friends. But there you are, sitting in his lecture hall with a pen in your pretty mouth. Nanami remembered you vividly, your aura and beauty brought men from all ends of the house to right in front of you. He can remember the drunk kids you shared on a dare. Nanami can see you conversing with another classmate of yours, your head flogging back with a laugh on your lips.

Professor Nanami hated how you made him feel like a blushing schoolgirl. He feels an unbridled desire for you, it shakes him to his very core. He knows he shouldn’t like you like that. It’s wrong, its perverse, you’re so innocent and naive to the ways of an older man. He refuses to acknowledge his feelings for you, which is becoming an increasingly difficult way to suppress his emotions. Nanami fucks his fist with your name on his tongue and your face flicking through his mind in a post-orgasmic state. It makes it much harder to see you the next day for class.

He was nervous, Professor Nanami asked you to stay back after a mock exam. He noticed you haven’t been yourself for a couple days, your usually high exam results have taken a hit. You’re one of his more intelligent students, so seeing you do so bad? It infuriated him. He knows you can do better so that was probably why he asked you to stay back. “I’m disappointed in you and your attitude to my class, do you feel like you don’t have to try so hard because you get good results anyways in the real thing?” Your eyes start to well up and Nanami realises you might actually cry in front of him, “I just want to know why, that’s all, so I can best support you.”

Professor Nanami was shocked when you told him the that the reason why you weren’t doing so well was because of you break up with your boyfriend. You broke it off mutually due to compatibility reasons but it didn’t hurt any less. Nanami was only wishing that he could make you feel better, perhaps go down on you or fuck you till you forget his name and who he was.

It was awkward for Professor Nanami and you after your random breakdown in his office, he was strangely an excellent listener. The kiss you shared at the party was initiated by the crowd chanting and the haziness from the hella drinking you did for your friend's birthday. You assumed he'd want to bring it up but all he gave you were lustful stares when he thought you weren't watching, but you would have to be blind to not notice his darkening gaze when you spoke or looked at him.

You confer with your friend about Professor Nanami and she aptly suggests you need a rebound and he seems single and ready to fuck. Thus began operation D for an A. Nanami noticed a lack of effort on your part in his class work, he asked around and it seemed like this was an issue in his class and his class alone. What was different about him? He told you to stay back to discuss your recent performance in class.

Professor Nanami looked good enough to eat, your plan was simple, to fuck him and rebound from your ex. Hopefully, he's down as well. He asked you to stay back and you hope he's finally gotten the hints you have been giving him all week, including the dropped items you bent down to get and sucking all manners of items like pens and lollipops. He locked the door, "Darlin' we need to talk about your grades." You look up at him and decide to be a brat, "well, have I been a bad girl? Maybe you need to punish me?"

Professor Nanami was not expecting this at all. His eyebrows raised to his hairline, you wanted him? Why? You were under a decade his junior. He stepped forward and put your chin in between his index finger and thumb. "Oh really?" He teased, he would think about the practicalities of this relationship later, right now you're too irresistible for him to resist. You lean in to kiss him and it is nothing you have ever felt before, the sheer practice and experience made you feel out of your depth.

His cock twitched at the thought of you cucking on his dick like you teased him with that god-forsaken lollipop. Lord knows how you pictured yourself on your knees sucking Professor Nanami's cock in his office. The thrill of getting caught somehow made you even wetter if that was possible. You don't know what prompted you to be so promiscuous, but this worked for him. You closed the gap between you and started to unbuckle his trousers, looking up through your eyelashes for permission.

Professor Nanami nodded and you pulled his black boxers down alongside his trousers. His cock was hardening under your touch, it was like nothing you have ever seen before, definitely, the largest you have ever sucked. You wonder if it's even going to fit in your mouth. His grunts and groans sound melodic to you as you kitten-lick him to get used to his size. You breathe through your nose, a tip learnt from your friends but never got to use due to your ex's uselessness in bed. Taking a breath and sucking, deep-throating him. Your cheeks hollowing and tears streaking your face almost made him cum right there and then.

Professor Nanami could've taken you right there on his desk, but he wanted to take his time with you and fuck you senselessly so you forget that ex-boyfriend of yours. He could feel himself drawing to a close, right on the edge, "Doll, I'm going to cum," he pauses, "good girls swallow, can you do that for me? hm?" He throws his head back with a whine caught in his throat, you swallowed. You actually swallowed his seed because he asked, the image of white cum leaking out of your mouth and streaked makeup could've made him fuck you right there.

You ask Professor Nanami for a second round at his place. "Obviously, I still need to fuck you so well you forget his name."

Masterlist

[pyr0-kai]

Could you maybe write a mike x reader that the reader has a crush on Mike for a long time now secretly but dont dare tell him because she just can't is too shy and Abby helps reader and Mike to find together with her drawings since she noticed how they look at each other every time but no one says anything and maybe with just fluffy please. The reader knows mike a long time and knows what he is going through and Mike did become distance from the reader but the reader is still here for him when he needs it too.. And they kiss too :)

Hiiii, thank you for my first official request!! I hope you like it!

There shouldn’t be anything to spoiler-y just some tooth rotting fluff and bad writing!! (And one spicy reference ish? Nothing too bad)

Also So sorry, my art class was watching the little mermaid today so its been in the back of my mind.

Abby, The Little Matchmaker

You had moved in next door to the Schmidt house a few years ago. Mike was watched out the window the day you moved in, while eating breakfast with Abby one morning. He saw you outside of the window, and he wasn’t trying to stare, but ended up staring at your driveway, watching you bring in and out boxes of stuff from one of those large moving trucks. Abby finished a little doodle before looking up, seeing her big brother staring. When Abby spoke up, he zapped out of his little trance.

As a lot of time had passed you had gotten to know him somewhat well. Sometimes he would talk with you from the other side of your fence, or you two would sit on the curb or one of your porches together and just chat about random stuff. As he became more focused on his work, trying and failing to keep a good few job, he slowly began to, unintentionally, become distant. No longer speaking to you directly. But he still would watch you from the window of his kitchen if he saw you pretty [hair color] flash in the corner of his vision. Often seeing you playing with your younger sibling, or younger family members.

Once he landed the job at Freddy’s, he knew he would need help. And you were the best and only person he could really think to ask. It was awkward but, you agreed. Excited to officially meet his little sister, and hopefully see more of him once again. Thats how you ended up watching over Abby once he started working late nights.

Abby was very shy at first, but as time past, and you spent more time at the Schmidt house, she began to open up a bit, talking more and inviting you to draw with her. She also noticed though, how awkward you were with Mike. How you two both seemed to like each other a lot, but it was strange.

One evening however, it was just you and Abby. One of her favorite movies, The Little Mermaid was playing in the background, and she was drawing. Not looking up from the paper, she spoke.

“Hey, [Y/N]?”

“Yeah Abby? Whats up?”

“Do you like my brother? I mean, Like-Like him?”

Your face flustered at that question.

“N-Not like that no… We are just friends really.” You replied, voice cracking a bit.

She turns her head and looks at you.

“Oh really? At dinner sometimes when I mention you, he always says you’re pretty and appreciates you being friends and taking care of me at night. Also, sometimes when i’m not asleep yet, I hear weird noises, and your name coming from his room.”

She notices your face and how red it gets from hearing her speak. She knew you had a crush on him, no matter how much you tried to deny it. Then she turned her head back, smirked to to herself and grabbed a new piece of paper, before heading back into her room, to plan.

Later, Mike invited you to stay for breakfast. He was cooking up some slightly burnt scrambled eggs while you were tapping your nails on the kitchen table. After what Abby had told you, it became even more difficult to talk to him.

Abby came out of her room a few minutes later, a piece of folded paper in her pj pocket. She sat at the table, across from you, wishing you and Mike a good morning. You 3 ate Mike’s slightly burnt food, as Abby told you about a project she’s excited to start at school. Once the food was done, and the dishes were put in the sink, Abby perked up again.

“I drew this for both pf you! Don’t open it until I’m back in my room please!”

You and Mike both nodded as she dashed off into her room to get ready for school. You stood next to Mike as he unfolded the sheet of paper. The inside revealing a picture of You, Mike, And Abby, all happily hugging. You and Mike looked at each other, admiring each other’s eyes. Before you both heard Kiss the girl, from The Little Mermaid start playing from the Cassette player in Abby’s room.

You two both looked at each other, the paper still in Mike’s hand.

“Did Abby tell you that I like you?” He asked.

“Yeah, did she say that I like you..?”

You replied.

But you’re dying to try

You wanna kiss the girl

Yes, you want her

The song played, while you and mike looked each other. He gulped before leaning in slightly for a kiss, and you met his lips halfway. The kiss was everything you both wanted, soft, loving and passionate.

“I love you…”

He spoke.

“I love you too…”

You replied.

The song ended from Abbys room, and you both heard her shout

“I KNEW IT!”

You and Mike both laughed before he pulled you into a tight hug. To this very day, the specific picture Abby drew is framed and sits on a shelf. She draws all 3 of you together much more, loving how happy it makes you all. This always ends with a group hug, as well as you and mike sharing a loving kiss.

[jishyucks]

Desk Deliveries — ljn

‣ pairing: lee jeno x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l/coworkers-to-lovers, secret admirer au, office!au

‣ wc: 5.6k

‣ summary: When gifts start appearing on your work desk on December 1st, you have no choice but to hunt down the man who’s been planting them. And with only 7 men on the floor, this shouldn’t be difficult… Right?

‣ warnings: nothing really?, cliche-ish ending, a lot of dialogue (I gotta get this story goingggg)

‣ an: jeno’s wooooo, honestly easier to write than I thought but it’s wayyyy longer than I wanted it to be (I keep underestimating? myself), I just hope it’s up to my own standards lmaooo, but hopefully u guys enjoy!

Series Masterlist

DECEMBER 1

Desk Delivery!

Starting today, consider your desk a treasure trove of surprises.

‘Tis the season of giving, after all, and your radiant presence in the office deserves to be celebrated.

Each gift is carefully chosen, a small reflection of the little things I love about you. I hope they bring a smile to your face and add a sprinkle of magic to your December days.

Stay curious, 

Your Secret Admirer (or would Secret Santa fit the season?)

You almost laugh out loud, blinking at the note sitting on your desk. This must be a joke, right? 

“What is that?” Karina digs her chin into your shoulder, reading the note from behind you.

“Some joke,” you reply, letting her pluck the card from your fingertips. 

She pouts, “But it’s cute!”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” you counter, taking the card back.

“I just don’t believe it’s real.”

DECEMBER 3

Today, you arrive at the office greeted with a small, neatly wrapped cube on your desk and you’re beginning to think that the message you were given on the 1st wasn’t a joke and that, whoever it was, was being serious.

You glance around the office to see if any of your coworkers were present, but you seemed to be the first one there. Your brows furrow, carefully sliding the box toward you before ripping the wrapping paper. 

You use your office scissors to slice the tape open, and then once you are sure you can open the box to see what was in it, you take a deep breath in. You push the box away from you so it’s at arm’s length, afraid that something was going to pop out when you lift the flaps open. Counting to three in your head, you ready your fingers to lift the covers after the third count.

Fully expecting there to be fake snakes of some sort, you were met with nothing (thankfully). You pull the box back and peek in to find a mug and a card. Your brows furrow, pulling the card out first. 

I know how much you love that mug of yours, Y/N…

But it’s time to retire that broken one.

Got you a new one. Hope you like it! 

Your Secret Admirer 

You can’t help but giggle at the tone of the writer, placing the card down before going for the mug. You’ve been teased maybe once or twice for using a mug with no handle, mostly because you’ve been complaining about how the edges of the glass edges left behind by the absent handles had been poking at your palm.

Carefully, you fish the cup out of the box, making sure you won’t drop and shatter the present before you can even use it, and you use your other hand to pull the box off. And when you finally get a good look at the mug, you laugh out loud, bringing it up to eye level to get a good look at it. 

It was the exact same mug you already have been using, the only difference was that this one actually had a handle.

You were so caught up in your present that you didn't notice Karina approaching you, “Morning, smiley face.”

“Huh?” you blink at her, confused.

“I would take a picture of you right now, but I’m too lazy,” she huffs, “But you’re smiling like a child on Christmas Day.” Karina blatantly points at your face, “Who’s got you smiling like that?”

You shrug but gesture to the card and the mug, “I don’t think that first one was a joke…”

DECEMBER 4

“Hey! Hey, Y/N!” 

You hear someone call your name, but you don’t actually hear it. It was sort of like background noise to your thoughts, entering one ear and leaving the other. 

“Y/N! Hey!” 

Then, you feel something rough hit the side of your face and you realize that Karina was peeking over the wall of her cubicle and into yours.

“What the fuck do you want!” you whisper. You pick up the balled-up scrap paper she had thrown before throwing it back to her, “I’m trying to work!” 

She dodges the ball with ease, head briefly disappearing then reappearing, “Do you have any candidates for who your secret admirer could be?” 

Karina was speaking a little bit too loud for your liking, so you gestured for her to come closer. She doesn’t hesitate to leave her workspace to enter yours, sitting down on an empty spot on your desk, “So? Candidates?”

You shake your head, “Barely. I was only able to pick out that the writing is a guy’s writing because the girls have neat writing… Other than that, I have nothing.” 

The two letters sitting on your desk were your only explicit clues. Then, you had the thing with the mug, but everyone knew of your broken mug. So really, it was just the handwriting that you had as insight. 

“Okay, so it’s a guy…” Karina hums. She stretches her neck to glance around the office, “And there’s only like… seven? It wouldn’t be difficult to eliminate some of them.” She picks up your two cards to examine the cards. You can see her eyes move back and forth between the letters, pressing her lips into a thin line. “It’s not Renjun.” 

“Huh? How do you know that?” 

“He handwrites,” Karina states, “Like straight-up longhand writing. So it’s not him.” 

“How do you know he’s not just changing up his writing so it’s not obvious?” you narrow your eyes. 

Karina laughs, “Okay, you have a point, but let’s just say that he’s out temporarily, to make it easier on us. In the case that everyone else is out, then it’s Renjun.” 

You don’t notice the way your face scrunches up, your facial features pushing in toward your nose. 

“Hey, what’s with the face?” Karina’s head tilts to the side. It takes a beat and a half before she realizes, “Wait, you don’t want it to be Renjun, do you?” 

You don’t answer, mostly because you didn’t want to outright say that you didn’t want Renjun to be your admirer—no offense to him. Renjun was a great guy, but he wasn’t someone who you saw yourself being with. And if you were to actually build a relationship with this person, you didn’t want it to be Renjun. 

An all-knowing smirk appears on Karina’s face, “Then who do you want it to be?” 

You want to throw a punch at Karina’s knee, but you remember you are still in the workplace and you need to keep it (at least a little bit) professional. “Fuck you, you already know the answer to that.” 

Jeno, Karina thinks.

“Of course you want it to be him,” Karina puts the cards back down, “I should have known. You’re down bad for that man.” 

Karina wasn’t wrong. You and Jeno go way back to your internship days, and your (hopeless) crush on him has been there since then. 

“Down bad for who?” 

From seemingly out of nowhere, Chenle appears at the corner of your cubicle, leaning against it as he takes a sip of his coffee. And of course, wherever Chenle was, Jisung followed, standing right next to the former. 

“Uh, that-that one actor!” you lie in a panic, “From that one show!”

“You suck at lying,” Chenle snorts, “You could have at least named someone. It could have been Nam Joohyuk for all I care.” 

“It’s not you guys if that’s what you’re thinking,” Karina snickers, “Sorry, boys.” 

Jisung and Chenle burst out laughing, almost comically in sync. They even threw in a high-five, though it was out of habit. “No offense, Y/N, but I don’t see you in that light.” Chenle is practically in tears. 

“No offense, Chenle, but I don’t either,” you reply, “Now can you guys please leave my space or I’m reporting you guys to Taeyong.” And that sends them away because it wasn’t the first time they’ve been reported.

“Okay so we can scratch those two off the list,” Karina concludes. 

And you nod. 

So far, so good. This should be easy.

DECEMBER 8

Okay, it wasn’t as easy as you thought. 

All your interactions with the other guys were normal. None of them seemed suspicious enough for you to star, nor did any of them do anything that ruled themselves off your list, and you had to admit, it was frustrating. 

Of all the boys, the most suspicious was Jaemin, who snickered every time he passed your desk. But when you mentioned this to Karina, Karina pointed out that Jaemin was like that in general, always up to his own shenanigans like Donghyuck was. 

“That or he knows something,” Karina thinks, “We should ask him.” 

It was nearing the end of the day and you and Karina were sitting at one of the open tables by the floor’s wall of windows, mugs in hand while you carefully eyed the boys of the department. 

Karina’s about to walk up to Jaemin when you stop her, pinching her blouse to keep her from leaving, “I don’t think Jaemin’s stupid enough to spill anything if we ask. We have to make it subtle.” 

“Subtle, how?” 

You shrug, “Just subtle.”

“Subtle, how?” Karina repeats. 

You want to bonk her in the head, “I guess pretend like you don’t really care, maybe say you think it’s Renjun or something and see what he says.”

Let’s say Jaemin really did know who your admirer was. If Karina were to think it was someone else, she could note the way Jaemin would react to her guesses and you both can go from there. 

You shoo her away and let her do her thing, staying back to pretend you were watching cars drive past down below. 

In 8 days, the only clues you were able to gather included the fact that he was a boy, he worked on this floor (the mug thing), he liked to end his J’s in loop de loops, and there was always some type of water or coffee stain on the cards. 

The last clue was something you and Karina had just recently discovered, simply because the first few cards were wrinkled in the slightest with water, while the most recent one, today's, had been stained with a drop of coffee. 

You’re not sure if these were purposeful or accidental, but nonetheless, you and Karina took any details as clues, hoping that it would lead to a conclusion.

“You haven’t blinked for a while.” 

“Shit, I didn’t hear you come,” you greet Jeno with an awkward smile, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, “I was just deep in thought.” 

Jeno’s eyes disappear when he smiles and your stomach does that thing it does when he does so. It’s so stupid how you’re feeling like a giddy high schooler around this man, but you’ll defend yourself any day and blame him for everything. 

“Is it about your secret admirer?” Jeno questions. He’s facing the window and you’re facing him. You can see him peeking at you through the corner of his eye and he’s smiling teasingly.

Your eyes widen, “Wait, how do you know about that?” You haven’t told anyone but Karina, Chenle, and Jisung, the last two only earning the information for being the most persistent duo on the planet. 

“Word gets around,” he shrugs, “And I pass your desk to and from the elevator.” 

You’re guessing the two younger boys had let it slip out but you disregard them for now, “Oh… right…”

“So, what about him?” Jeno questions. 

“Just… I don’t know who it is….” 

Jeno turns to you and you’re taken aback by how tired he looks. Sure, everyone in this damn office repped the good ‘ol panda eyes, but Jeno’s hair was a bit dishevelled, eyes half closed from fatigue. You choose not to point it out. 

Jeno’s words register in your head and your brows furrow, “Wait… how do you know they’re a he? I didn’t say anything about him unless…” You don’t quite notice the way Jeno freezes up only because he wasn’t moving much beforehand. “Unless you know who he is!”

Jeno shakes his head, “Jisung told me!”

“I didn’t tell Jisung anything.” “You probably told Karina who told Chenle who told Jisung!” At this point, Jeno’s heart is beating at an erratically fast pace and he’s about to panic until Karina returns. She’s pouting, a tinge of disappointment evident on her face and Jeno takes this as his chance to escape.

“What did Jaemin say?” Your attention is easily pulled away from your friend, “Did he say anything?”

“No,” Karina grumbles, “I accidentally let it slip out that this was about your admirer and all he said was, 'Secret admirer, huh? Wouldn't you like to know.'” Karina mocks Jaemin’s voice, rolling her eyes. “But I guess that just proves that he knows something… it’ll just be harder to get it out of him.” 

“Jeno’s being suspicious now, too,” you nod your head to the boy. 

Sure it could be implied that your admirer was one of the guys, but the way the man had handled your questions was definitely something to take note of. 

DECEMBER 10

“Please tell me you’ll be leaving after you finish this?” Another one of your coworkers, Minjeong, was standing at the edge of your cubicle, leaning against the divider. You can tell she’s ready to leave, hands stuffed deep into her pockets, “Everyone’s left besides Mr. Jo.” 

Mr. Jo was the custodian.

“I will, I promise.” You don’t even look up from your screen, waving your hand in her direction as if it would make her scurry away, “I’m almost done. Have a good night, Jeongie!” 

She returns your farewell and leaves, knowing that you won’t budge until you finish your task. 

You genuinely were near completion. You just had a few more points in the report to finish before you reached your goal for tonight and you’ll go home. 

Your fingers are flying across your keyboard, fatigued eyes blinking at the words you were producing in hopes that they were coherent. Your brain had shut down an hour ago and now you were on autopilot.

Who cares if it’s coherent if I’m going to edit it anyway? You think. And now you were carelessly typing, making typos left and right. 

When you finally finish the draft, you grab your mug from your coaster to put in the office’s sink. Your eyes finally catch a break from staring at the screen for so long, practically feeling your ocular muscles relax. Closing your eyes, you blindly make your way down the pathway, which honestly was easy after the amount of times you’ve made your way down it.

But when your feet hit something that was obviously not as hard as a cubicle wall you freeze. 

Shit. 

Your eyes fly open and quickly look at what you have unintentionally kicked. 

“Jeno?” You blink your eyes a couple times to make sure you aren’t just seeing things.

Sprawled out on his desk was Jeno, fast asleep. There was a small pond of drool underneath his cheek, mouth hanging open. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Jeno.” You feel the need to whisper now, leaning over to shake his shoulder. “Jeno!” 

He begins to stir, “Huh? Wha?” 

“What are you still doing here?” you ask. 

One eye stuck closed, he glances around the empty office. The side that he had been lying on was flat as if he had been in that position for a while. Jeno yawns and stretches, his back popping a little as he sits up. 

"I was waiting for you to finish," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

You glance at the clock on his computer screen, realizing it's much later than you thought. "Jeno, it's getting late. You didn’t need to wait for me."

He shrugs, a sleepy smile on his face. "I didn't want you to go home alone in the dark. Plus, I figured you might need some company." 

You hit him on the shoulder, “You dumbass!”

Jeno winces even though you didn’t even hit him too hard. “Ow!” 

“I didn’t even know you were here! Dumbass!” You throw another thwack at his shoulder blade, “You’re lucky I tripped over your foot!” Jeno ignores you and starts getting up, pulling out his packed bag underneath his desk, “You should’ve told me you were gonna wait for me.”

“Yeah, but then you would’ve pushed me onto the elevator so that I could leave,” Jeno replies. "Ready to head home?"

Although you and Jeno don’t live anywhere near each other, your place was on the way to his. Usually, you’d walk home and go sightseeing as you walked past the small shops on the way, but because the weather could freeze your arteries shut, you’re forced to transit home. 

"Sure, let's go." You pack up your things quickly, and the two of you head towards the elevator.

As you wait for the elevator doors to open, you glance at Jeno. His eyes are still a bit heavy with sleep, but there's a warmth in them that makes your heart flutter. When he notices you looking, he tightens his lips to give you a tired grin that reaches his eyes. The office is quiet now, only the hum of the elevator breaking the silence.

Once inside, Jeno presses the button for the ground floor, and the elevator starts its descent. The dim lighting casts a soft glow on both of you, and you can't help but appreciate the peaceful moment.

"Long day, huh?" Jeno breaks the silence, his tone sympathetic. “Your secret admirer mystery still bothering you?"

You chuckle and nod, "Yes. But it just makes me more determined to figure it out."

"Any progress?" Jeno raises an eyebrow, curious.

You shake your head, "Not really. It's driving me crazy." 

"Maybe it's someone you least expect," Jeno suggests with a playful smile.

"Maybe," you reply, unsure. The elevator doors open, and you both step out and into the nearly empty office lobby. Then you think out loud, eyes narrowing as you look at Jeno through your lashes, “Maybe it’s you.” 

The cold wind hits you as you exit the building, making you shiver. You pull your coat tighter around you, and Jeno does the same. 

“Why? Do you want it to be me?” Jeno smirks playfully. 

“I don’t know,” you lie, “I’m just asking because there’s a possibility it’s you. Besides Chenle and Jisung, you’re the only one willingly asking about him.” That really couldn’t even mean anything, but it’s suspicious. You’re starting to think this was a joke set up by all the guys, and you’re the target.

“Nope, it’s not me,” Jeno stares ahead of you both, and you miss the way he swallows his spit when he says it, “And I don’t know who it is either. That’s why I’m asking.”

You look at him to detect if Jeno was lying—maybe a nose twitch, multiple blinks, or a dishonest glance to the side—nothing. 

You feel your heart skip a beat, and not in the way you liked. Because, sure, you didn’t care about who this person was, but for the past week and a half, you’ve been raising your hopes that it was Jeno who had been leaving these presents for you. 

You realize that that was a mistake. 

A weak laugh shoots out your mouth, almost sounding like a huff and you force a smile on your face, “Well… that’s a relief.”

DECEMBER 15

Losing a bit of interest in your admirer just because it wasn’t the person you wanted it to be wasn’t fair to your actual admirer. Especially when they were still putting the effort into dropping off those presents and writing those letters.

The day after, you had told Karina that Jeno made it clear that your admirer wasn’t him and she refused to believe it, delusion taking over for your sake. She said something along the lines of ‘can’t say it’s not Jeno until there’s solid proof’. 

This morning you decided to switch up your strategy and arrive at work early. For the past 2 weeks, these little deliveries had appeared on your desk either after you left or before you arrived, and since you had kept track of who left the office yesterday evening, you were sure that he was going to be coming in early this morning to leave his present. 

You greet the security guard in the lobby, leaving your mouth more as a yawn than an actual sentence before you hop onto the elevator and cross your fingers for luck. 

The office is quiet and dimly lit as you enter, the only sound being the gears of the elevators turning as the doors slide open. Once you step out, you’re quick to scan the room before ultimately settling your gaze on your desk. 

The universe couldn’t have timed this any better.

Standing at your desk, you see a figure, gently placing a wrapped box on your desk. You hold back a gasp, clamping your mouth shut with your palm, not wanting to bring attention to yourself. The man appeared oblivious to the elevator letting someone off, his back still turned to you.

You catch the sound of his satisfied hum, and just before he pivots, you quickly move to a concealed hallway, keeping yourself out of sight. A lingering fear holds you back from confronting whoever this person is, but you so badly want to know who it is. You figured it would make the confronting part easier. 

Footsteps grow closer before they stop, and you can easily guess he’s standing in front of the elevators. With curiosity getting the best of you, you risk being seen and lean your head around the corner, just enough so that one of your eyes can see who the boy was. 

Another gasp attempts to leave your mouth when you finally recognize who it was. 

Jaemin?

The elevator arrives at your floor before you can even process that it was truly him you just saw, almost as if you’ve seen his ghost and he was gone before you knew it. 

So your secret admirer was Na Jaemin? 

In a way it made sense. You and Karina had ruled him as one of the more suspicious ones. He and Jeno were close, so Jeno being curious about your progress added up. Now you have solid proof that Jaemin actually was your secret admirer.

How were you going to let him down easily?

DECEMBER 19

Despite having the weekend and Karina's assistance to strategize how to break the news to Jaemin, you found yourself at work on Monday without a clear plan. Today, you mentally braced yourself for another gift, feeling a pang of guilt as you realized your friend and coworker had been investing so much effort, only for his feelings to not be returned.

Today’s box was slim and rectangular, wrapped in the paper you’ve grown familiar with. At first glance, it looked like a wine box, but you quickly deemed it too short to be a wine bottle. 

With a bit of hesitation, you carefully pick at the paper, ripping it open before you slice the tape that was keeping the box closed. Then you pry the box open, flipping the flaps over so that you can see the item from a bird’s eye view.

Huh?

You pull it out—an umbrella in your favourite colour. On the handle, your initials are engraved into the plastic. The umbrella looked beautiful, but considering the other presents, this was… random. 

Your eyes catch sight of a card at the bottom of the box and you stick your arm in to fish it out. 

I bet you’re curious as to who I am, right?

I think I kept you waiting far too long for a hint.

A hint?

Your heart picks up its pace and your eyes scramble to keep reading.

Today’s gift? An umbrella.

Bought one for myself and one for you because we need to be prepared next time.

I don’t know about you, but I didn’t enjoy being drenched in rain at work. 

Your Secret Admirer

A hint.

Hell, it was more than a hint.

Your eyes grow wide as you reread the note over and over, your heartbeat fluttering. It flutters because you know exactly what your admirer was talking about. 

Back during the rainy season, the morning you were getting ready for work, you completely disregarded the weather forecast and left your house without an umbrella or an appropriate coat. And much to your stupidity, you told yourself that it wasn’t going to rain that hard when you heeded the darker clouds in the sky. 

You realized your mistakes on the walk to work when rain started pouring down from the sky, like someone dumping a bucket of rainwater all over you. You were sprinting, sight impaired by the rain pelting your face, flying past other individuals who had been smart enough to pack heavy-duty umbrellas with them. 

Luckily, you finally arrived at your building before you were wet to the bone. When you noticed the elevator was still open, you called out for it, fast-walking through the lobby just so you could catch it. 

“Thanks,” you had sighed out, huffing in relief. 

The man who had held the elevator open for you laughed and spoke up, “I take it you forgot an umbrella too?” 

You laugh at the memory, remembering being thankful that you weren’t the only dumbass who didn’t bring an umbrella—that you weren’t going to be the only one on the floor who would be showing up soaked and dripping wet.

Because Jeno was that other dumbass. 

Even with this realization, with this hard evidence that your admirer could actually be Jeno, you still recount your almost-encounter with Jaemin and the fact that Jeno had denied your accusations. 

You find yourself caught in a web of conflicting emotions. On one hand, the thoughtful gesture of the umbrella brings back memories of that rainy morning with Jeno. On the other hand, the recent revelation and Jeno's denial cast a shadow of doubt on the identity of your secret admirer.

As you stand there, staring at the umbrella, your brain cells are desperately trying to think up a good explanation for all of this. The evidence seems to point to Jeno, yet you can't ignore the possibility that this might be an elaborate misdirection. Or maybe Jaemin was the misdirection?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the familiar voice of Karina, who has just gotten off the elevator. She notices the umbrella in your hands and grins, "Mr. Admirer? An umbrella?"

You manage a half-smile, the weight of the situation pressing on you. "It’s a hint. There’s a memory tied to it.”

Karina arches an eyebrow, intrigued. "Memory?"

You decide to share the story of that rainy morning with Jeno, how both of you got caught in the downpour without umbrellas. As you recount the details, Karina listens attentively, connecting the dots between the past and the present. 

"So, you think Jeno might be your secret admirer because of this shared memory?" she asks, thoughtful. The way her expression brightens at the thought of your admirer actually being Jeno and not Jaemin—just like you wanted.

You shrug, uncertain. "It makes sense, right? But then there's the whole denial part. He flat-out said it's not him."

Karina leans against the reception desk, crossing her arms. "He probably just didn’t want you to find out like that. Maybe he's trying to surprise you later. Who knows?"

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and curiosity. "I just want to know. I’m this close to banging my head against the corner of my desk." 

Karina snorts and nudges you playfully. "Confront him again but this time, give him no choice but to confess."

You consider Karina's suggestion, realizing that confronting Jeno might be the only way to unravel this mystery. Gathering your resolve, you decide to have a direct conversation with him, determined to get to the bottom of your secret admirer's identity.

DECEMBER 20

Who would’ve thought that confronting your secret admirer would be nerve-wracking? Cause what if it really wasn’t Jeno and you were making a fool out of yourself?

It’s your break and you’re sitting at one of the lounge tables with Karina and Minjeong, playing with the edge of your instant ramen cup. 

You’re replaying how you want the situation to go down in your head. You want to go up to him, make small talk, he small talks back, you confront him, and he admits it—easier said than done. But your goal was to do it by the end of the day, mostly because you know that if you kept this going for any longer, you’d actually go crazy.

Minjeong and Karina are talking about something, you’re not quite sure what it was when Ningning joins in, “Did Giselle pass by?” 

Karina shakes her head, “Haven’t seen her.” 

Ningning pouts, “I was going to ask her someth—”

And again, you tune them out—not on purpose.

The voice in your head is screaming Jeno repeatedly and it’s driving you insane. You want it to stop, but the only way you can do so is by confronting him.

Then the door opens again and in comes Jeno and Jaemin, laughing about something Donghyuck and Mark related. Karina notices the way your eyes divert toward their direction and she tries to catch your attention, jerking her head in their direction. Eyes widening, you shake your head as if you were saying not now.

“Shit, I got coffee on my shirt,” you hear Jeno huff. 

From where you were sitting, you could see Jeno turning to show Jaemin the coffee stain on his white shirt, pouting. Jaemin laughs, “That’s what you get for using a broken bottle. Just buy a new one.” 

Jeno pouts, “You buy one for me, then.” 

At first, you don’t pay attention to their conversation, passing it off as the usual banter between the two, but then it clicks. Your mouth speaks before you can even process everything, “It’s you!” 

The room grows silent but, frankly, you don’t care because now you’re sure it was Jeno. 

Other than the umbrella and the memory, the only other hint other than handwriting were the water and coffee stains that the cards were always covered in (and you and Karina were still unsure whether that was on purpose or not). 

Jeno’s bottle was broken. 

You rise abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor. Rounding the tables, you navigate toward to get to Jeno, heart beating against your rib cage. Once he is within your reach, you snatch him by the wrist and drag him out of the lounge room and into the hallway. 

“Dumbass!” you smack his shoulder, “It was you! Liar!” You weren’t angry, in fact, you were laughing, disbelief etched on your face.

Jeno looks off to the side, “I… don’t know what you’re talking about…” He’s horribly holding a smile back, cheekbones growing prominent from his attempt. 

“Don’t play dumb,” you say, “The umbrella hint was enough for me to know it was you!” 

Jeno unleashes his smile, physically shrinking and lowering his head as his cheeks grow hot from your statement. “I didn’t think you’d remember it that easily…”

"You've been driving me insane, you know that?" You shake your head, still processing the revelation. "I even thought it was Jaemin for a bit. All this time, it was you!"

“Did you… want it to be Jaemin?” 

You shake your head, “Honestly, I was relieved it was you… no offense to Jaemin. Why didn’t you admit to it when I asked you?”

“Probably a similar reason for why you said ‘that’s a relief’ when I said it wasn’t me,” Jeno counters, slowly regaining his confidence. 

You chuckle, realizing the playful banter unfolding between you and Jeno. "Good point."

He grins, "Plus, watching you try to figure it out was entertaining." There’s a mischievous glint in Jeno’s eyes as he's holding back a smile.

You cross your arms, glaring up at him, "So you enjoyed torturing me?" 

Jeno panics slightly, shaking his head, "No! It’s not like I was torturing you! It was just something fun! I liked seeing your reactions!"

You playfully roll your eyes. "You're lucky I like you."

Jeno freezes, “Wait, you like me like me?” 

You look at Jeno as if he just said the dumbest shit that’s ever come out of someone’s mouth. “Lee Jeno, I literally told you I was relieved it was you and you think I don’t have feelings for you?” You want to smack him again.

“Yes?”

Smack.

“Ow!” Jeno rubs his arm and frowns. 

“Of course I like you!” You’re looking up at Jeno, “I was working my ass off trying to figure out who my admirer was because I had hopes that it was you!”

Jeno's eyes widen with surprise, and then a broad grin stretches across his face. "You... really?" he stammers, almost disbelieving, “So would… this be the right time to ask you on a date?” 

You stuck out your bottom lip and shrug, half-joking, “I mean… it’s the least you can do after putting me through all that.” 

“You’re right,” Jeno laughs. He takes a step closer, looking down at you with the world’s prettiest smile, “So will you?”

“Will I, what?” you tease, staring back up at him.

“Will you go out with me?”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: the answer is yes 👀,,, Felix's is up next and it's gonna be cute

[axeoverblade]

Four words. Lazy makeouts with Hobie. 👏

Addiction

Hobie x gn! Reader

Sypnosis! You really had to go, but like a moth to a flame you were drawn to Hobie.

MASTERLIST

Genre: Highly suggestive

Warnings: MATURE!

Word Count: .6k

Authors Comment: Ever blushed at your own writing? Yea that was me the whole time. Small blurb. Hopefully this is what you wanted, enjoy!

Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade

You couldn’t remember when Hobie became your addiction.

You couldn’t decipher when the feeling of his lips leaving yours became painfully disappointing, swearing it was the same way addicts felt when the intoxication wore off. It doesn’t help when the drugs fiends for you as much as you crave them.

As much as Hobie hated consistency, he sure as hell loved you.

It’s worse amidst the high when all sense of sobriety and sensibility is thrown out the window, losing all accountability and thoughts became actions. When “we shouldn’t be doing this” becomes an afterthought.

Even if you wanted to move, you don’t think you would be able to. Sat atop Hobie’s lap you breathed heavily through your nose, trying to ground yourself. Hobie’s hands caged you in, wrapping loosely yet firm around the small of your waist. You couldn’t even remember how you got here this time, thoughts too fogged by his tongue sloppily shoved down your throat.

You knew this was wrong. You knew how much trouble you would get in if you two got caught again. Which was sure to happen, almost a guarantee at this point.

But if this was so wrong, why did it feel so good?

Something about the way he moaned breathily into the kiss, taking a hand off your waist to find its way upon your throat. His calloused thumb rubbed circles against your neck, making your already unstable breathing ten times more difficult. Grinding against each other, your hips rocked in sync to give each other the most relief with the little amount of time you had. His bulge was prominent, only adding more friction for you to rub against.

Miguel had called you into his headquarters a long time ago, and you knew today he was more irritated than usual. Miguel told you to get Hobie on your way over and bring him with you because he had a mission for you two.

It really was your plan to go as soon as he called you in.

But when Hobie grabbed you and pulled you into one of the hidden corners of the society that he had made into a hang out for a quick kiss, you knew your plans would be thrown out the window.

You tried to tell Hobie how mad Miguel was, how you two should hurry.

But like an addiction does best, it draws you in close with no hope of letting you out.

With how long you two had been unresponsive to Miguel's frequent calls on your watch, it was only a matter of time before he would send someone to get you, or worse, come himself.

But the ecstasy of it all was too much to stop, the euphoric state trapping you like a snare.

A string of saliva connected your lips to his as you pulled away. It was against your conscience to stop, but the will to breathe was stronger than your mental cravings. The look in Hobie’s eyes hung low, intoxicated by the remnant feeling of you.

You knew if you didn’t stop now there was no way of returning.

He was your drug. Yours and yours alone.

Hobie stared at you hungrily, gazing at your out of breath figure. You told him for the umpteenth time you two really had to go or Miguel would come find the both of you.

But every time he would reply with the same answer.

“Let em’ ”

©axeoverblade

[writingwithfolklore]

When i start writing a story in passive voice, using a lot of descriptions, as the story progresses, i have this tendency to write it in active voice. Somewhere the natural flow is disrupted. Please help!!

Hi!

I think first we need to clear something up about active vs. passive voice. Descriptions and lots of it can all be told in active voice, just like action could be told in passive voice. The difference depends on the structure of your sentence.

For example:

"The flowers were speckled with glimmering drops of rain." (passive) "Glimmering drops of rain speckled the petals of each flower" (active) and "The villain was struck by the passing crane." (passive) "The passing crane struck the villain." (active)

Which you choose depends on the effect you want on your readers! For example, you may not want to reveal what's happening to the character until the end of the sentence to maintain a sort of suspense.

"He was tugged suddenly under the door; a large, skeletal hand digging into his thigh." (passive) versus "a large, skeletal hand tugged him under the door." (active)

Good stories use a combination of both! Unless you're really intentionally writing only in passive or active as a style choice to convey something specific, make sure you're incorporating both where appropriate.

What I assume you mean is that the beginning of your work tends to be full of description and focus on detail, whereas by the end you're just moving bodies through space--focusing on the actions of the characters.

I also have this struggle!

A lot of that work at the beginning is about tone, which I wrote about here:

Otherwise, it's about editing afterwards--adding in the missing details and being intentional about your pacing. This may also help:

Hopefully that answers your question!

[chenlesfavorite]

After taking your time with viewing all the photographs with Winter, you make your way back to where everyone else is gathered.

The photos were pretty but to you, Jaemin’s photos stuck out the most, maybe it was because he was your friend, or maybe everyone else’s photos just didn’t hit the same as his did.

“Perfect, everyone is here already so that means I don’t have to go and search for y’all.” Jaemin says, arriving a few seconds later after you and Winter— taking a glance at everyone.

As Jaemin's voice catches everyone's attention, everybody turns their gaze over to him but Chenle remains unfazed and his eyes instead find their way to you... and it's as if the world around you fades into the background, leaving only Chenle in focus, like a scene from a movie.

The sight of him was insufferable to you, but that's not your concern right now. Instead, you find yourself wondering why he's staring directly at you instead of paying attention to what Jaemin is about to say. His sharp gaze unsettles you... it’s as if he’s trying to intimidate you. It's difficult to figure out his intentions, and you can't quite piece together what this guy is all about or what he wants.

You shake your head right as Jaemin clears his voice to continue his words. “Since I managed to sell a lot of my photographs, which, by the way, I’m super grateful for... I’ve just now decided, on the spot, that I’m inviting you guys to dinner! It’s all on me.” Jaemin announces with a proud smile on his face.

The others immediately perk up at the mention of free food, after all, who wouldn’t get excited? All sorts of suggestions start being thrown out there such as like; a steakhouse, a buffet, a seafood restaurant, and much more.

"Shouldn’t we just let Jaemin make the decision? After all, he’s the one who invited us to this and he’s the one paying for the dinner. We should go somewhere that he likes." Chenle suddenly speaks up, his words grabbing the attention of the others.

"He's right." You reluctantly utter, it killed you to admit that Chenle was right but oh well. You quickly avert your gaze, scratching the back of your head as the words leave your lips.

“I can’t believe you can be understanding, wow.” Chenle replies and lets out a snicker afterward.

“Okay, you two kids be quiet,” Jaemin butts into the little conversation you and Chenle are having, stopping it before you two start throwing hands and insults at each other.

After Jaemin gives much consideration— he finally gives his verdict on where he’s taking everyone. It was the restaurant not too far from the campus, there they served all sorts of food so Jaemin thought that was the best decision since everyone could get what they wanted there.

-

After arriving at the restaurant, the waiter there leads everyone to the table, letting you all take your seats; you didn’t mind Hendery sitting on your left side but what you did mind, was Chenle sitting on your right side. You were right in between the two of them.

You catch Winter's gaze shifting from you to Chenle, and then back to you. She's feeling nervous about the dinner, especially considering you'll be seated next to Chenle. You can feel her concern, likely stemming from your hatred towards Chenle due to the incident after your date with Jaehyun and the encounter at the convenience store.

He gets on your nerves badly enough already, but sitting next to him is just the cherry on top. You just hope he won’t annoy the hell out of you during this dinner.

Once all the food is ordered, the long waiting game starts.

"Y/N, how come Jaehyun couldn’t make it today to the exhibition?” Ningning brings up your boyfriend at the worst possible time, did you want to talk about Jaehyun while sitting next to Chenle? Hell no, but it seems as if you have no choice but to answer.

At that moment, the room was filled with different conversations, so hopefully the others wouldn't focus on your and Ningning’s conversation. "He just said he was busy today, that’s it. I’m not sure what he’s busy with but, yeah. I am a little disappointed though that he couldn’t come. He may not know you guys well but still, he should support my friends." You reply with a slightly disappointed tone.

"Seriously? What could he possibly be busy with after getting fired just a few days ago?" Ningning asks, crossing her arms as she looks at you with a mix of disbelief and surprise. "I'm asking myself the same question, girl. He confuses the hell out of me," You respond with a puzzled expression, adding a shrug.

"I've probably said this a thousand times, but just break up, you deserve better. How much longer are you willing to endure the suffering in that god-forsaken relationship?" Winter speaks up, adding her voice to your and Ningning's conversation.

Winter is definitely right. How much longer are you willing to endure his endless requests for race tickets, his willingness to go out on dates only after he makes a mistake, and the various other demands?

"I understand what you're saying, but as I’ve said before, it's really difficult for me to end things with him. Despite his flaws, I truly believe he's a good person, you know?” You express, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Or just let her suffer in that relationship because it seems like giving her advice is useless.” Chenle randomly joining your, Winter’s, and Ningning’s conversation was not something you expected nor did you want his opinion on this.

"Chenle, I'd appreciate it if you didn't get involved in matters that don't concern you," You say with a harsh tone. Sitting next to him was bad enough, but him trying to engage in a conversation that had nothing to do with him, only pissed you off.

“I’m just saying... jeez, what’s with you being so pissy all the time? Did you get dropped on the head as a baby?” Chenle replies, rolling his eyes, which just makes you scoff in reply.

Jaemin rises to his feet as soon as he hears you and Chenle beginning to bicker again. "Okay, everyone!" He exclaims, clapping his hands to capture everyone's attention.

‘This is going to be one hell of a dinner.’

══════════════════

NIGHT RIDER : chapter 10 — surprise dinner

back — masterlist — next

! author’s note : felt like making a written chapter hehehehe 😊 anyway spoiler but y/n’s and jaehyun’s breakup is coming VERYYY soon… and that’s when y/n and chenle’s love story starts beginning 😈 well actually it starts beginning 25+ chapters in but yk!

✮⋆˙ taglist : @nanaxwi @neocrashed @404tytrack @connormurphynation @dudekiss3r @injunnie-lemon @chenlesfeetpic @neozon3nha @morkiee @doughyk @i03jae @haechology @foxy-kitsune @fullsunbabe @polarisjisung @beommii @soobiverse @onlyhyunjin @lostinneocity @yyangj3lly @junviadinho @miyawwn @marvelahsobx @starfilledgaze @nosungluv @gukuwii @bitchzitschimi @whoooootf

══════════════════

[drdemonprince]

Hi I keep thinking back to your book unmasking autism, I recently was diagnosed with level 1 by my new psychiatrist but with losing my healthcare I feel lost on how to function without medical assistance. I typically mask and been learning how not to, but it always feel at the opportunity cost of more money, overly explaining to family or grief. I’ve been in a loop of feeling I shouldn’t exist due to my disability and it a sad feeling.

I am so sorry to hear that you are going through this. I'm certain you already know this, but it's not the case that you shouldn't exist because you are disabled. The vast majority of people on this planet find it absolutely soul-sucking and exhausting to present as what gets called "neurotypical" at work. It's too many hours of pretending to be someone you are not, with no space allotted for your full humanity, with not enough energy or hours left behind to look after oneself, have nourishing authentic relationships, and ample space to recover, be playful and joyful, and dream. Every person requires ample time and space for themselves to recouperate, and to listen to the actual feelings that they have inside, and capitalism instead demands that we suppress all of it, and it can slowly eat away at us and make it difficult to access authentic pleasure or connectedness. For Autistics it's especially pronounced because we are such a bad mismatch with what capitalism demands, and because we need so much energy recovery time, but it's simply the case that you are not broken or defective for failing to fit within such an oppressive system. It is that system that should not exist, and that terrorizes everybody, to varying degrees. I bet if you look at the most "well adjusted" hard working people that you know, you see how their lives have been totally ruined by overworking and killing what's wild and free about themselves, or what used to be those things.

I have spoken to hundreds of Autistic people in the situation you are in at this point, and I have found that for the majority of us, embracing our disability and articulating our needs means that very dramatic changes have to happen in our lives. Some people have to reorient how they interact with their families, establish new boundaries, push to really educate them on neurodivergence, go no contact, or rethink what family means to them altogether. Lots of us leave careers or switch to part-time or remote work, or have to get incredibly creative and resourceful in order to survive in a way that we can stand: going on disability benefits, public assistance, living with friends, pooling resources, going off the grid in some way, finding some side hustle or scam that makes it possible to survive, doing sex work or freelance, taking on childcare or eldercare duties for a friend who is employed, or something of that nature are all options I've seen a lot of unmasking Autistics pursue. None of these options are ideal, and they all come with significant costs and risk factors. But then, so does killing oneself slowly with work.

I have a whole book coming out next year in March about these specific considerations, with lots of tools and decision trees and research and quotes from other Autistics. The book is designed to help Autistics who are in that second stage of their unmasking journey sort out what a life where it is possible to be less masked means for them. Where can they live? Who is gonna support them? What matters to them in their life? How can they reset their relationships in light of their neurodivergence? What does it mean to grow old as a disabled person? These are the kinds of questions the book will hopefully help me explore, and discover the best answers for themselves. Of course, many people would say that their only way out of this is the downfall of capitalism, but I personally am of the mind that we have to make that end happen ourselves by working less hard, consuming less where possible, leaning on other people, providing support to our neighbors, becoming less reliant upon our employers and the government, and building our collective escape from the capitalistic machine. And we can all have some small part in that, even if only for ourselves and those immediately closest to us. That's enough.

I hope that you find a way of life that is sustaining and feels whole and good for you. As neurodivergent people we do things very differently. And that is both the curse and the beauty of us. The prescribed script we've been given for how life is supposed to look is never going to work for us. Indeed, it's not working for most anybody else either. There way forward will not be easy, and the lot you've been given to deal with is not fair, but there are also millions of other disabled people just like you who are leaning on one another, slowing down, refusing to play into the existing system's hand as much as is possible for them, and making a new world. And just by pondering the things that you are, you're helping already to make that new world too.

[faux-ecrivain]

1950s househusband part 3

(Twenty first official post)

(Recap of part two)

(Name’s Angelo)

(Not the best installment of Angelo’s series, but I just wanted to write about him and so I did.)

———————————————————————

         He clasps his hands together and just as he’s about to apologize, you speak. “It’s alright, back in my old town I would always get late night visitors.” Angelo gets mixed feelings by your response, but he brushes them off and asks to come inside. “Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask if you would invite me inside?” He inquires politely, though he expects you to reject him. He hopes you’ll let him in and then maybe you two could become fast friends. 

        You consider his words for a moment, you shouldn’t let him in, but he did give you cookies and he seems harmless. Plus, if he tries anything, you could easily over power him (he looks rather weak). You shrug and allow him inside, once he enters (with a wide grin) you out your bat away and close your front door. Hopefully, this decision wouldn’t be one of your regret.

———————————————————————

        Angelo was immensely relieved when you let him in, he was worried you’d think him a creep for coming over so late. But you didn’t and to him, that meant quite a lot, he smiles at you and waits for you to take his coat. It takes you a few minutes (because you have to put the cookies away), but you eventually understand and, after a brief apology, assist him in taking off his coat. “Ah, sorry. Let me help you.” You speak quietly, yet he felt welcomed by your tone. It isn’t very difficult to take off his coat, and you make idle chatter as you do so. 

      “So, Angelo, right? What brings you over so late?” His heart beats rapidly as your breath graces the back of his neck, he can barely focus on the conversation that you’ve started up. “Mhm, Angelo is my name. (he likes the way you say his name) Ah, well, I simply wanted to welcome you to our little town and I want to help you adjust!“ He chirps back to you, his mind distracted by your touch. Your left hand tugs one of his coat sleeves off carefully, your hands are gentle and adept at this task. 

     It makes him wonder how many coats you’ve taken off, or perhaps you’ve taken off more than coats back in your old neighborhood? “Angelo is a handsome name, but did you really have to come over so late?” Despite being distracted by your compliment, (his face flushes) He couldn’t help but wonder how many you’ve touched, and it made him rather envious. “Th-thank you and I know my visit was quite unexpected, but I was simply so excited to have a new neighbor finally. I’ve known everyone here for so long, it’s become rather monotonous.” He over explains, his nerves getting the best of him as he rambles and wrongs his hands together. (or tries too, but his actions are prevented when you get his coat off)

       You hang his coat up in the closet and guide him to the couch, you smile politely and compliment him once more. “That dress is quite lovely, unexpected but lovely, and you’re welcome.” You then respond to his rambles as patiently as you can (you don’t like it when people ramble, it’s annoying). “I see, well, I guess that makes sense, but maybe next time someone moves in don’t visit in the middle of the night?” You suggest, although Angelo wasn’t paying attention because he was distracted by the heat of your body that’s sitting close to him. He exhales shakily and tries to remain calm as you compliment him, although it’s hard because he’s a sucker for praise. “Right, uhm, thank you for the a-advice…” He stutters, his brain short-circuiting and his face flushing with every breath you take.    

      He is absolutely whipped for you, everything you do is committed to his memory, and he inches closer to you with every passing second. “You’re welcome, so, are you going to give me a tour of the town or some advice to settle in, and get along with my neighbors?” He didn’t want to, but he figured that it was best to be as helpful as possible. That way, you’ll trust him the most and will come back to him whenever you need help. You, however, scoot away from him, eventually ending up near the end of the couch in a corner and Angelo follows you. “Oh, uhm, certainly. I’ll be happy to give you advice and a tour, but I was hoping we could simply have a friendly chat first…” Angelo responds hopefully, he just wants to get to know you and doesn’t want to talk about anyone else. However, something you said earlier caught his attention. “Unexpected? Wh-what do you mean by that?” He questions nervously, his wide eyes nervously glancing at you and his bottom lip quivering at the thought of you hating him. You tilt your head, slightly confused and then you try to clarify without sounding rude. “Well, back where I’m from men don’t often wear dresses, that’s all.” Before you can clarify any further he interrupts you, which was quite rude and he apologizes for that, but doesn’t stop talking. “Sorry for interrupting, but you don’t like it? Does my fashion sense upset you?” He inquires his expression shifting into anxiety and his mind begins to work in overdrive. His hands squeezes the cloth of his dress and he twists the fabric. Angelo doesn’t do well with rejection, of any form or shape. Suddenly this conversation seems very awkward to you and you regret opening your mouth. “That’s not what I meant, that dress looks great on you. It’s just someone have to get used to, that’s all.” He smiles and he seems content with your response. “Really? You mean it? Thank you!” It isn’t often that he gets a compliment from anyone and it’s been a while since anyone he was interested in complimented him (excluding his spouse, he loves his spouse so very much and is very interested in them). Angelo relaxes and leans his head on your shoulder, which causes you to cringe and push his head away. He whines and leans against you once more, this time he wraps his arms around your arm and nuzzles your neck. Now you’re very uncomfortable and have begun to regret your decision to let him inside.

—————————————————————————-

[oceanlix]

Day 8: Eric

Pairing: Eric x female reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 1045

Warnings: Wall sex, breathplay, dirty talk, hand kink, praise, creampie

Smutmas 2023 Masterlist

This is so stupid, you tell yourself, biting your lip to try and tame your thoughts. You’re supposed to be watching the instructor for safety tips, not imagining what it would be like to have those veiny hands wrapped around your thighs. Or inside of you. Or even better yet, around your neck. No, this is definitely crossing the line into perversion, you decide.

“Y/N?” You blink, realizing the hot instructor has just now called you out in front of the whole class. Great.

You push your goggles up your nose even though they aren’t falling off in the slightest, hoping to buy some time as your eyes dart towards his nametag. Leave it to your horny brain to not even remember his name, wow.

“Sorry, drifted away for a bit there,” you chuckle nervously. Hopefully he buys it.

Eric looks you up and down, a little smirk appearing on his lips. Oh, you are so busted, you realize. You gulp, watching as his eyes come back up to yours and linger there. “Well, as I was saying, everyone’s going to pair up and practice belaying for each other. Since we have an uneven number of students today, I’m going to partner up with someone. And since you were spaced out while everyone picked their partners, I guess you’re stuck with me.”

You’ve gone and got yourself into some deep shit now, apparently. 

—-

It was inevitable you’d end up here, some hours later. The gym is long empty, the class having ended after an intense hour of flirting with the instructor while he attempted to teach you how to belay. And now he’s got you in his office, stripping in front of you.

You’re practically drooling. Obviously you expected Eric to be a little muscular; you don’t become a rock climber without having a certain level of strength, after all. But knowing it and seeing it for yourself are two very different things, you’ve realized.

“Like what you see?” he teases you, letting his shirt drop to the floor. You do; you’re licking your lips in anticipation, actually. But your speech has failed you, so you just nod while he takes off his pants and underwear.

“Come here,” you request, holding your hands out. Eric looks amused, but walks towards you anyway. As soon as you get your hands on his chest, you let out a groan, leaning forward to kiss his neck. “God, you are so hot it’s not fair.”

Eric laughs, tilting your face up so he can kiss you. “And you’re adorable,” he tells you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

It shouldn’t surprise you when he lifts you up easily, carrying you over to the wall. You’re dripping at the display of strength, even if your back hurts a little when he lines his cock up with your entrance. It’s a small price that you’re willing to pay for the pleasure he’s about to give you.

“Let me know if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” he says, sliding into you a second later. He’s so deep that all you can do is moan, digging your nails into his shoulders to ground yourself. Eric’s muscles ripple as he holds you in place, letting you adjust to his size.

His hands feel even better squeezing around your thighs than you imagined, drawing soft moans out of you. “Please,” you whimper, opening your eyes to look at him. “Move.”

Eric wastes no time, lifting you off his cock until just the head is inside. He smirks, then slams you full again with his hard length. You’re trying not to scream in case anyone’s still around, but it’s proving difficult with the brutal pace he sets.

You just about disintegrate when he adjusts his grip on you, bringing one hand up to wrap around your throat. All your dreams come true when Eric’s fingers squeeze gently at your neck, your eyes rolling back in your head. “More, more,” you babble, feeling his cock twitch inside you. You’re glad he’s clearly into it too.

“Bet you were thinking about this the whole class,” he growls, fingers digging in a little harder. Your vision swims a little, but Eric backs off just as quick as your eyes pop open. He looks like he wants to eat you, making your pussy clench around his cock. “Couldn’t wait for me to get my hands on you, huh?”

You nod frantically. “Needed it so bad,” you moan, arching your back so your breasts press up against his chest. “Your hands are so distracting.”

Eric chuckles, pressing two of his fingers against your lips. You open your mouth to let them in immediately, loving the way his eyes darken as you suck on them lewdly. “That’s it,” he whispers, rubbing the pads of his fingers across your tongue. “You’re so good to me, sweetheart.”

The praise goes straight to your pussy, your walls fluttering around him. Your thighs are slick with your own fluid as you drip around his cock, the squelching sounds driving you crazy with every thrust.

“Can I come inside?” he asks suddenly, dragging his fingers out of your mouth and down your neck. You briefly think about how you’d probably let him crush your windpipe if he wanted to, but you just nod. You’re on birth control anyway.

Eric’s pace picks up immediately, his cockhead hitting your spot on every thrust now. You can’t even think straight, moans spilling from your mouth like it’s the only language you know. His fingers are gripping your thighs for dear life now, fighting to hold you up while he impales you on his cock over and over again.

“Shit, I’m cumming!” you warn him, digging your nails into his skin so hard there’s definitely going to be marks later. Eric hisses at the burning pain, but then buries himself fully inside you and blows his load.

It feels like he cums forever, rope after rope of hot, white fluid hitting your walls. You’re slumped against the wall when he finally pulls out, your mixed cum dripping out of you onto the floor.

“Come on, let’s take a shower,” Eric insists. He has to hold you up with an arm around your waist, but the two of you leave his office together.

[peanutbubba]

Hi.Is it possible to have Usopp (top) x male reader (bottom).Smut. They have been a couple for a long time. The half-human, half-tiger reader (he has the body of a human but a tail, ears, eyes and stripes of a tiger) and he controls electricity. For the scenario, arriving on an island with the crew, Usopp and the reader decide to go relax and spend a romantic moment in hot springs because it is difficult to spend a romantic moment on the boat (sorry for the spelling mistakes English is not my mother tongue)

All I Need

Usopp x Male!reader, smut, top Usopp, bottom reader, tiger mink reader, I don’t know how hot springs work, not beta read, almost 2k words

“Y/N! Please save me!” Usopp crys, crocodile tears running down his face as he hides behind your back.

“What?!” You yell back in disbelief, looking ahead, your eyes widening as you see a horde of navy folk come towards you.

Reaching for your hand, carefully you pull a yellow bolt from your hand, large and sparkling with energy. “Christ, I can’t leave alone for even a minute, huh, Usopp?”

“What the hell is that?!” Screams a navy soldier, pointing towards the bright thunderbolt held by your bare hands.

You clench the bolt tighter before launching it at the hoard of Navy, striped tail swishing in irritation behind you. “Fuck off!”

Electricity fizzled from one soldier to another, all of them too close to escape the yellow crackle, whipping at their spine and freezing them in their tracks. Not enough to permanently injure them, but you were sure they weren’t getting up anytime soon.

Grabbing Usopp’s hand you start making a run for it, whiskers on your face blowing in the wind. “Let’s get out of here! The Sunny shouldn’t be too far!”

Usopp practically clings on to you, thanking you continuously as you both run for the ship together.

You were so ready to just get off of this crazy island, all you hoped was that the next would be better, hopefully you could finally relax.

And oh how you were glad when that was the case, rushing over to hot springs as soon as the locals told you where they were.

You were not very keen on getting your fur wet a lot of the time, due to you being a tiger mink, but there were just some things in life that even your animal instinct couldn’t control.

Undressing yourself before getting in the water, you sigh softly as the heat of it relaxes your body, every tense muscle that you hadn’t noticed before now unclenching.

It wasn’t long before you lost track of time, just resting up before your ball of energy of a captain was wrapping you up in his schemes again.

It’s quite ironic though you think to yourself, the literal person who has the devil fruit ability to create charged energy couldn’t even keep up with him, where he pulled all of it from you had no clue.

Quickly you were brought out of your thoughts, the dip of water next to you alerting you of someone else in the hot springs.

Your eyes were narrowed when they opened, only relaxing when you saw that the one next to you was Usopp, the only person who could have made the hot springs feel even better in your opinion.

A smile grows on your face, sharp teeth revealing itself to the other man.

He raises an eyebrow at you, relaxing as well in the water. “You know, you’re kinda scary when you smile that wide.”

Immediately your smile drops, an unamused look on your face at Usopp’s words, slapping your hand in the water to splash him.

“Hey!” He yelps, covering his face with his hands before slapping them on the water too, effectively splashing you as well.

Laughing you make your way over to Usopp, planting a kiss on his cheek. “You know, I would have thought you’d be happier to see me,” You say, lightly teasing him.

“I am happy to see you!” He argued back, giving you a pointed look, “Don’t just assume things like that.” He huffs, dipping down in the water, letting himself sink so that only his mouth and lower was submerged.

A smile forms itself on your lips, watching how Usopp pouts underwater like a child.

Eventually his eyes go from the water back to you, his features softening, heart softly hammering in his chest.

Sometimes he can’t help but wonder how he managed to woo someone like you, you’re so amazing and he was just him, it was confusing when he learned that you actually liked him back, but he definitely wasn’t complaining.

“Is there something on my face?” You question, tilting your head in question at him.

Rising from the water he looks at you questioningly, clearly clueless. “No?”

You smirk at his response, “Well there must be, you’ve been staring at me for like a minute.”

He tenses up at this, blush making its way on his almond skin, cheeks darkening nicely.

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re so… you.” He sputters out, looking away from you not sure if his words even made sense, not knowing how to get his thoughts out too well.

You let out a laugh at this, not really surprised by his response, Usopp was always one to get easily nervous. “Thank you?”

At your laughter his gaze flickers back to you, a small chuckle falling from him as well, your laugh contagious to him.

Once your laughter died down you scooted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. Allowing the both of you to relax into the water again, a comfortable silence filling the air.

Though that didn’t last for long, you were getting antsy for Usopp’s entirety, not having been able to express your desires to him merely as much as you would have wanted too.

Island after island, issue after issue, being on a ship and not even being able to have a little alone time with your boyfriend was driving you crazy.

Your hand carefully grasps Usopp’s inner thigh, making him jolt from the sudden touch, his cheeks burning as he looks at you incredulously.

“Really? Here? What if someone comes?” He quickly questions, an obvious nervousness to him.

Burying your face in the crook of his neck you let out a small whine, leaving soft kisses on his wet skin. “Please? We haven’t been able to in a while.”

He lets out a sigh, just deciding to go along with it, after all it had been far too long, and he wasn’t risking potentially getting caught by the crew by waiting to be back on the Sunny.

With a soft voice he finally speaks up, still embarrassed about talking about such subjects even though you’ve done it countless times. “Oh, fine.”

At this you perk up, happy that Usopp was caving in to you. Leaning up you catch his lips in a kiss, closing your eyes as you tilt your head to accommodate for his long nose.

Usopp practically melts into the kiss, a content sigh leaving his nose, deepening the kiss after a few seconds.

Hands grasp at your waist, rubbing into it. Letting go of Usopp's thigh you bring your hands out of the water, wrapping them around his neck to bring him closer.

When you ran out of air you pulled away, softly huffing to regain control of your breath, eventually leaning back in for another one.

It was loving and passionate, a mix of longing in it from being deprived of this sensation for so long, both of you so desperate for one another.

Pulling away again you huff a laugh as you feel Usopp shyly grab your legs, wrapping them around his hips.

Carefully he pushes you up against the outskirts of the hot spring, not wanting to hurt you.

You watch as Usopp works gently on you, his half hooded eyes always flickering towards your face to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable, one of his hands came to rest on your hip, the other going down to your ass.

Your striped tail swishes in interest, rubbing against Usopp’s arm before allowing him to be, trusting him completely with your body.

You let out a hiss as Usopp inserts a finger in you, the sudden intrusion making you tense before you relax yourself once more.

Pumping his finger in and out of you as he listens to your soft moans, eventually adding a second finger when he thinks you are ready.

He kept a nice pace, your gasps and moans growing steadily as he thrust his fingers up into you, prodding so nicely into your sweet spot.

It isn’t long before he pulls them out, his hand settling itself back on your hip, lining himself up with your hole.

Slowly, he pushes into you making sure to watch your face to see if you were showing any signs of discomfort, more attuned to your pleasure than his own.

When he finally bottoms out he waits for you to give him the go ahead to start moving, one of his hands smooth against your spine, the other rubbing the side of your hip.

Only when you start to squirm in his lap does he start to move, even thrusts at an almost lazy pace, not wanting his time to end quickly with you.

His face moves to hide at the crook of your neck, spreading small kisses on it, every thrust making a soft huff leave him, his breath fanning at your tingling skin.

Your tail swishes under the water in pleasure, rising from the water and curling affectionately on Usopp’s hand, making the man’s motions stop, now instead rubbing softly at your wet fur.

The softness of it all makes a soft purr start in your chest, a sound that Usopp loved, it let him know that he was doing well without even having to look at you or hear it verbally. And even when you can’t see Usopp’s face you already have a pretty good guess that he has a happy little grin on his face, always so pleased with himself when he can make you feel good.

Every thrust of his dick so deep in you had your stomach pooling with heat, Christ, sometimes you forget just how good at these things he was simply because he was always so shy about them.

You weren’t exactly complaining though, that just meant whenever you two did have intimate moments like these it's always like seeing heaven again.

Sweat beaded and water at Usopp’s skin, both the water of the hot springs and the burning of his own needy body making sweat roll down his skin. Not that it really bothered him, it only added something else to shiver at including the soft breeze coming two and fro.

As Usopp shifts his dick hits practically perfect in you, kissing your sweet spot in a way that has your toes immediately curling, a loud moan escaping you.

One of your hands lifts from his neck and covers your mouth, still wary of being quiet. Usopp is a little sad when he can no longer hear your moans unmuffled, though he would rather have that then someone worrying about the sounds you’re making and catching you guys in act.

Another particular thrust has the coil in your stomach tightening, the need of release pointing itself out to you almost immediately.

Moving your hand from your mouth you go to warn Usopp, fumbling as broken words and moans fall from your lips before you actually get the sentence out, a slight stutter as you talk. “Dear, i-i’m close.”

Usopp merely nods against your neck, his pace quickening, your body shaking as he quickened his thrusts, moans rapidly leaving your lips as you own dick twitches in pleasure.

It doesn’t take long before you’re fully cumming, white ropes getting caught by the water, your legs tightening against Usopp’s waist.

He follows suit after a couple more shallow thrusts, spilling his seed in you due to you legs not letting up, a soft moan of your name coming from him as he comes down from his high.

Both of you stay there for a moment basking in each other’s presences as you try and catch your breaths, eventually Usopp comes up from hiding in the crook of your neck, a crimson blush and pout on his face.

“Now my hands are all pruny.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, loud and boisterous, after all that of course that was his first thought.

God, you loved this man.

—

I am so sorry this took forever, this entire fic was actually such a struggle because I kept over thinking it.

I still hope you enjoyed this mess of a fic though, Pea’s out!

[breannasfluff]

“Ah, actually, I had something I wanted to give you.” Ravio opens the nightstand and pulls out a small box. “Irene introduced me to her grandmother and between the two of them, they helped me come up with a spell. Here.” Opening the box, he hands Link one of the rings.

Link examines it, then slips it on. The merchant has enough of Link’s rings lying around to know his finger size. “It’s lovely. Ah…what was the spell for?”

Ravio puts the matching one on his finger. The rings aren’t flashy; just thin bands of gold to match Link’s other ones. It was difficult enough to enchant plain metal without adding gems or insets.

Grinning, Ravio rubs his thumb over the ring. A second later, Link startles, wings puffing and flaring. “The ring vibrated!”

“Rub it with your thumb.”

The bowerbird does and, a second later, Ravio’s ring gives a pleasant buzz on his finger. “They go both ways. I…don’t know if they will work across time, but they work across Hyrule, at least. Irene said time shouldn’t affect the spell, but we won’t know until you go through a portal. Hopefully, they do. And, if not, at least this way if you end up on the far side of Hyrule I’ll know.”

Link examines the ring, rubbing it again. Ravio rubs it back and a smile spreads across the hero’s face. “This is amazing, Ravi. Did you think of this?”

“Yeah.” The merchant ducks his head, blushing. “I don’t like being without you and, well, I thought this would be a sweet way to show I was thinking of you.”

“I bet it was a hard spell.”

It was. Ravio spent hours with the witches researching and perfecting the spell. There was no spell for what he wanted, so he’d had to invent a new one. And then re-invent a few more times until Irene said it should be safe to try.

Instead, he gives their sub-flock call.

Link answers and steps closer, putting his hands around Ravio’s waist. Calluses press into the softness of his hips. The bowerbird isn’t used to being soft. Lorule necessities leanness; food is poor or hard to come by. Link’s era is abundant in more types of food than Ravio’s ever seen.

“I love you, Ravi.”

“I love you too, Link.”

Read the rest here