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#I don’t know if there’s any real way to come on here and tell people you’re lonely without it just coming off as depressing & off putting
vinillain · 1 day
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Great wave chapter 2 spoilers// analysis cuz ahahahaha Adamai… when I get you…
Alr, rant because I’m the biggest Yugo & Adamai fan of all time. And I overanalyzed this chapter to death.
And how the way Adamai treats Yugo is one of the main reasons he’s distant from Amalia.
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This pattern of behavior isn’t new, in s4 he was quick to come to Yugo’s defense when Nora was chastising him. Using words like “we” and because both of them were still feeling the euphoria of their reconciliation came to each-others defense in a new unfamiliar environment. But after he sees how shady and “heroic” their family is he ops to leave, and does so without explaining himself (about the dofus) to Yugo or trys to convince him to come along. Something he definitely would have done in s1-2. (And this is because they have grown so far apart the bond they once had is distant, albeit still there)
This behavior is similar, and again appears here in their entire conversation.
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Yugo who was brooding and trying to be alone after his vision is greeted by Adamai, who IS genuinely worried about Yugo, since Yugo now carries the dofus of their people he and Adamai’s bond is “strengthened tenfold” allowing him to “almost hear his thoughts” and definitely feel his fear and dark feelings. And he immediately calls Yugo out when he tries to hide how upset he was (which tbh he likely does because of Adamai’s next reaction in a bit, meaning this is a common cycle)
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Eventually after some talk Yu breaks down and is honest that he isn’t okay. That his visions terrified him, and here Adamai isn’t dismissive right off the bat, he states that he could feel how bad it was because of their bond, and knew it must have been bad if it shook Yugo up this much
And Yugo tells him about the vision and how “I am the cause.” To which Adamai questions as he seems to think internally, and Yugo like in chapter one with Amalia doesn’t question anything, again he only says “It was real.”
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(I am roughly paraphrasing their dialogue so it’s not 100% accurate)
At this point Adamai scoffs at him to which Yugo who’s still upset by his vision flips out on him starting an argument. Asking if he “bores” Adamai
And Adamai tells him he needs to think with his head. He possesses the power of a god and can’t afford to think with emotions. Which is true, TOT said that Adamai was the logic to Yugo’s actions. He is the thought and the anchor, but while he isn’t wrong for saying this, the way he went about it is making things worse, but it also it makes sense why he did act this way towards Yugo.
Adamai is not someone who bases his feelings on emotions anymore.
He’s spent his entire childhood training and getting ready to meet Yugo and find their people. After the loss of Grougal he has spent his entire life trying to fill the void with an adult parental figure who holds power and wisdom that can help him achieve his goals the way he knows mortals can’t. Hence the “we needed someone with more guidance” like in s4 to Yugo. We don’t see exactly what happened to him from the OVA’s-s3. But we know it had a drastic change on him physically and especially mentally. And a big part of that is that he essentially became a vessel to their peoples dofus. In order to cope with his own trauma and feelings and taking on that responsibility of all this power he surprised any emotions or feelings that could cause him to act rash or get in the way of his main goals.
And when he did let his emotions take over because of his blind rage, he ended up hurting people he cared about which left him even more apprehensive to show any ever again. (Hence why he left his newly found family in s4) But in doing this to such an exstent the way he does, he never actually solves any personal problems of conflicts. Especially with his loved ones. He can’t rekindle his bond with Yugo or try to fix their relationship because he refuses to show any vulnerability. Which makes sense after he was left behind, betrayed and hurt so many times, and more so when he realized that he hurt others in his own pain. He doesn’t want to get hurt or hurt others again.
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And as he states, Yugo has power beyond any mortal comprehension. He now carries the weight and responsibility of their people, and their siblings dofus. Honestly just their peoples future in general. He holds power, power many people want to steal from him or rid him of. Adamai compares Yugo’s situation to how he had to handle the dofus. That he needs to swallow any emotions and think logically. Which he has always done more out of the two of them. Vulnerability is a weakness to him. And Adamai doesn’t want Yugo to get hurt or hurt others like he has in the past.
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He is cruel and harsh in his words. Telling Yugo he does “bore” him. And completely downplays his twin’s feelings because he sees them as being weak. But he DOES care about Yugo, in his eyes Yu will end up suffering more if he shows this vulnerability. It’s why he is mean and tells Yugo he can’t be acting like a child when he has all this responsibility and power in his hands. This isn’t the same when they were little kids, the stakes for them and their people are much hire now.
But to Yugo, who’s tried to fix their relationship countless times, is naturally upset at this. He feels unheard, that’s he’s being over dramatic and that his feelings don’t matter. That he isn’t allowed to be upset at his own trauma. Which is something i think paralells Goddess Eliatrope. How people dismiss her feelings and say she’s overreacting. That she needs to “get over herself” because she is a great goddess with all this power. Etc. something I hope we see more with Yugo aswell.
Being a king already isolates him enough, being a demigod with all this power does so even more. To Yugo, Adamai is the only one he can turn too when he’s upset. It’s why he was so desperate to find him in s3. Over growing old and being immortal. The problems that mortals can’t comprehend. (Something that definitely upsets him because the more power and godhood he gains the more distance he has between himself and his loved ones.) But when he opens up to Adamai about his fears and issues he is shut down or ignored. And that’s why he won’t open up to Amalia. If Ad dismisses and scoffs at his feelings then why should he try to open up to her? He adores and loves Amalia and fears the rejection she might give him. It’s why the moment she was slightly dismissive with her “Calm down, it was just a dream” he immediately leaves to be alone. He already has to deal with Adamai, he doesn’t want her to do it to him too.
But by doing this he is hurting her too. Like him Amalia is STRESSED beyond belief. She has a ton of weight and responsibility on her shoulders. And she can’t manage the conflicts of her people (especially with the eliatropes) If Yugo isn’t there to help her, If Yugo won’t be vulnerable to her. If he doesn’t trust her or won’t rely on her with his problems then how can she? How can she be open with him if he runs away from her at the deepest issues when they share so much intimacy and love.
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Their is already clear tension among the Sadida’s and the (VERY FEW) Eliatropes who now live among them. Many are unhappy with the changes, some openly voicing how “Armand would never have allowed this” suggesting they don’t like Yugo as their king either. And the old man talking about how he lost his son in the war, that the eliatropes haven’t faced sacrifice. (And this is despite that fact that they don’t know anything about their past or the war they went through, how they lost their own families- claiming they don’t understand Sadidan culture or tradition but never trying to learn the other sides either.)
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Communication is the key to relationships. Being open and vulnerable is how we understand eachother. Something reflected in the main three so far and the Sadidans+Eliatropes. Yugo keeps shutting Amalia out because of how Adamai treats him. Creating this endless cycle of distrust among the two and it’s reflected in their own people. Both could be amazing rulers and created a better place if they were both open with each-other. But they won’t, and unless Adamai and in turn Yugo open up and show vulnerability. They don’t have to show all of it, trust is slowly gained. Little by little in a healthy manner. But if Yugo doesn’t then the discourse and tension will continue to grow among all their people. (And if you’ve seen the teaser for a certain upcoming chapter you can see how that’s going 😭😭😭)
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Anyway, in conclusion: someone please get them therapy
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ivantillz · 2 days
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kiss me;
ivantill, 8.7k read on ao3
For a second he just stood there dumbly, eyes wide open. He heard a gasp from the side then a whispered, “I thought they weren’t actually supposed to kiss here?” Till hadn’t prepared himself for this, but he knew he couldn’t risk ruining the scene even more. Eyelashes fluttering, he closed his eyes and cupped Ivan’s face, kissing him back with fervor.
Till couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Surely he had misheard, or maybe he hadn’t actually woken up this morning and he was still dreaming.
His manager looked as real as ever, though, staring at him with a hint of knowing amusement. He couldn’t stand her sometimes. (He loved her.)
“I thought you’d be excited,” she sighed dramatically, crossing her arms. “I guess maybe we should consider pulling out of the movie and – ”
His hand jerked out without his permission, fast as lightning, grabbing her arm. “Don’t even joke about that, Mizi.”
Her answering grin was all teeth. “They’ll want to do a chemistry read, first,” she put her hand over his. “Don’t get too excited. Nothing is guaranteed yet.”
For all they knew, he wouldn’t even get cast. Or if he did, maybe they’d kick Till off the project and replace him if their chemistry wasn’t promising enough. He really hoped it would be. But either way, he would be meeting him.
Till felt himself grinning before he could stop it, “I’m meeting Ivan.”
-
Till couldn’t recall the exact moment he discovered Ivan. To be fair, most people probably couldn’t. He was everywhere, it seemed – commercials, movies, television, even music videos.
What he could recall – as clear as if it’d happened yesterday – was the feeling he had felt. It was like a dam had opened and there was no stopping it. He realized he wanted more out of life.
He didn’t just want to continue being an extra on every set, the side-character who was killed off after one or two episodes.
Since then, he’d been able to build a decent name for himself. He wasn’t Ivan, by any means, but he was well-known enough to get the lead in an upcoming highly anticipated movie. And if the universe smiled upon him, just one last time, he would hopefully get to have Ivan as his love interest.
-
“I am running on exactly two hours of sleep, by the way.”
Mizi snorted, side-eyeing him. “I can tell,” she teased, and he knew it was just that: a joke but he still couldn’t help the sudden rush of insecurity.
As if sensing it by some form of magic, she slowed to a stop in the hallway and took his arm.
“You look great, Till. You haven’t even gotten makeup done yet and you still look amazing.” She squeezed his arm. “You’ve got this, you know that, right?”
He forced a smile. “Don’t you know confidence is my middle name?”
And usually it was true. If there was one thing he had over most of his competition in the industry, it was overflowing confidence.
Mizi smiled back, far more sincere. “Come on,” she said, tugging him along gently. “We don’t want to be late.”
-
Before the chemistry read, he went to get his makeup done as scheduled. Hyuna was no better than Mizi, grinning wildly as she gently applied a bit of concealer under his eyes.
“Let me guess,” she said, “didn’t sleep much?”
Till rolled his eyes, but made sure not to move. “I wonder if every actor has such a nosy makeup artist or is it just me?”
“Hmm, I would say you’re just lucky.” She winked and stepped back. “You look good enough to eat.”
He snorted. If he wasn’t so nervous underneath it all, he might’ve cracked a joke. Like how the only person he wanted to eat him was —
The door swung open, startling him. “Come on – ” he relaxed when he saw it was just Mizi. “We only have a few minutes.”
Quickly stumbling out of the chair, he rushed to her side and followed her into the hallway. As they walked toward the room set aside for their scheduled chemistry read, Mizi looked him up and down, not even trying to be discreet. Till made sure no one was around before quietly flipping her off.
Couldn’t tarnish his reputation and all that.
She giggled, light and airy. “I was just going to say,” she bumped their shoulders together, gentle, “you look good. Don’t let anything bring you down, okay?”
And he knew it wasn’t just empty words; Mizi had been there for him since the start of his career, long before he’d managed to actually make a name for himself. She’d been there with open arms (and an extra large pizza) every time he’d been turned down from a role, every time a casting director had scoffed like he was hilarious for even thinking he had a chance.
It had been hard, then, but motivating. He never wanted to be underestimated ever again. He thought he’d never feel so scared again, walking toward an audition room. It was a pointless fear. He had joked but surely they wouldn’t actually try to kick him out, even if the chemistry read wasn’t a success.
“Break a leg,” Mizi whispered just as they stopped in front of the door.
Till could hear voices through the wood. He concentrated and tried to see if he could pick out Ivan’s voice, in the sea of them, but he wasn’t sure if he could trust himself. He thought he heard him, a familiar drawl he had heard on television a million times, but he could’ve just been imagining it.
Mizi glanced at him, a silent question. He just nodded.
Without another word between them, she turned and opened the door.
-
Till didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath as his eyes scanned the room: it was all the usual people – the casting director sat at the table with two other staff members on each side, a few other stray staff members were scattered around the room.
In the middle of all of them was Ivan.
He was smiling politely as others talked to him, a small quirk of his mouth. Till must’ve stared for a second too long because suddenly Ivan was lifting his head and their eyes met.
Till had seen him a hundred times, at least, through a screen but he wasn’t sure anything could’ve prepared him for this moment.
For seeing him, here, like this, in real life. Ivan was even more stunning in person.
Ivan’s smile stretched just a little wider, barely noticeable. Till should’ve smiled back but he felt like he was frozen.
“Okay,” the casting director – Luka – stood up from the table. “From what I’ve been told, this is your first time meeting, correct?”
Till didn’t even realize he was addressing them until Mizi gave a gentle nudge at his side. He flushed, standing a little taller. He might’ve been meeting his idol, for lack of a better word, but he was still a professional.
“Yes,” he answered, cursing the slight shake to his voice.
Ivan nodded. “I’ve seen him plenty, of course, but never met, no.”
Till felt a shiver down his spine. Ivan. Ivan had seen him before, too, which shouldn’t have been surprising. He had been on a number of notable series by now, but for some reason he still hadn’t been prepared to hear it.
“Wonderful,” Luka said, “Everyone – ” He did a little twirl with his finger, making a point to address everyone in the room. “Out.”
Till knew the process by now. Luka’s process, at least. He could be a little unorthodox. Usually he didn’t mind it, but right now he was already starting to feel sweat pool at the small of his back.
Mizi let out a tiny huff of amusement as she helped to herd everyone out of the room. Last to go was Luka, who didn’t even say a word before closing the door.
If Ivan was confused, he didn’t voice it. For a moment, the room was silent with just the two of them.
“Sorry,” Till said eventually, clearing his throat. He dared a glance in Ivan’s direction; he was standing just a few feet away, a thoughtful quirk to his head. “Luka can be a bit, uh. Unorthodox in his methods. He always likes to give actors a few minutes by themselves before starting the read.”
He was proud of himself; his voice was steady and clear.
Ivan hummed, but still didn’t say anything. Till took advantage of the moment to really look Ivan over. He was beautiful; dark hair swept back with a few loose strands, eyes lined with black – not too much, just enough to somehow make his dark eyes look even darker, his lips shined with a thin layer of gloss, skin clear and perfect.
The way his mouth was twisted, Till could even see his fang. Not literal, of course, it was just his canine – especially sharp and pronounced – but it had always been one of his selling points that fans seemed to like.
He looked like he was conjured up in a lab somehow.
And Till, well. He wasn’t naive. He knew he was attractive – wouldn’t have gotten this far in the industry if he wasn’t – but he felt lacking compared to Ivan, more than he had in a long time.
Without thinking, he reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. But the wild look was part of his appeal, Hyuna had always said. Made him stand out.
“Are you going to keep staring at me or actually introduce yourself?”
Till startled, yanking his hand out of his hair hard enough he winced a little. He opened his mouth, ready to apologize, but then he saw Ivan was smiling. Barely, really, more like a smirk.
Clearing his throat, he wiped his hands off on his jeans in what he hoped was a discreet move (he was still sweating like crazy) and stepped forward. “Why should I introduce myself when you apparently already know my name?”
He froze as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He was so stupid.
This was Ivan – the Ivan – and here he was already messing everything up because he never quite knew when to shut his mouth. He waited, expecting the worst. He wouldn’t have even been surprised if he’d pushed him out of the way and stormed out of the room.
But instead Ivan did the complete opposite. He gave a little laugh, eyes crinkling just a little around the edges. Till felt something warm blossom in the pit of his stomach.
“I haven’t had someone talk to me like that in, well, ages.” His eyes were still sparkling when he finally stopped laughing. He extended a hand. Till moved quickly before he could think too hard and just make himself more nervous. Ivan’s hand was warm, smooth.
Till knew his own hands weren’t nearly as smooth, from playing guitar. It was just a hobby he had picked up on the side, nothing more, but his hands still suffered for it.
“You must play an instrument,” Ivan said, startling him. For a moment, he wondered if he’d accidentally spoken his thoughts but then Ivan tilted his head. “Guitar?”
Till swallowed around the lump in his throat; Ivan’s thumb gently moved over his knuckles, once, fleeting, before he was pulling away. Maybe he’d imagined it. “Yeah. Um. Just a hobby.”
“I would love to hear you play, if ever given the chance,” Ivan said. Normally, Till would’ve brushed it off as empty words but there was something oddly sincere about the way he said it.
He dropped his gaze, focusing on the collar of Ivan’s shirt. Anything to make sure he didn’t keep staring at his face. “Yeah. Sure.”
Before he – or Ivan – could say anything else, the door was opened without even a knock. Till spun around as Luka entered the room followed by the rest of the staff and finally Mizi alongside a woman he didn’t quite recognize. He wondered if she was part of staff and somehow he had just never noticed her until now.
That question was answered quickly when she went to Ivan’s side. “You’ve totally got this,” she said, hushed but just loud enough Till could hear.
He wondered if that was true. Didn’t want to get his hopes up.
“Okay, since I’ve given you both more than enough time to get acquainted.” Luka nodded at the scripts on the table. “Go ahead.”
Till forced his hand to not shake as he reached out and grabbed his version of the script; the part they’d be rehearsing, today, had been highlighted. It wasn’t too long. He just had to get through the scene without any mistakes.
He skimmed through it quickly, saw Ivan doing the same, even though they had both already read the script. Ivan, possibly only one or twice, but Till had read it nearing a dozen times.
So how did he manage to forget what happened at the end?
They didn’t kiss, not in this scene, but they almost did and that was enough to have Till suddenly rethinking everything. You’re a professional, he reminded himself, and tried to believe it.
He had certainly kissed plenty of people on set by now but admittedly he had never found any of them quite as alluring as Ivan.
Still, this was a chance to prove himself. He wouldn’t let that get in the way of doing his job properly.
“We don’t have all day,” Luka said, as impatient as ever.
Till resisted the urge to glare at him and simply set the script aside; it wasn’t frowned upon to read from the script during chemistry reads, of course, but he had the entire thing memorized already.
Ivan probably hadn’t been able to memorize it in such a short time but Till was surprised to find he set his script aside as well. He was always called an acting prodigy by media, the best the industry had seen in ages, and it seemed like it went beyond just a good performance on screen.
They both stepped closer to each other, waited until Luka gave the final nod.
All jokes aside, Till really was a professional. He felt like he was a different person when he got into character. Immediately he felt his eyes start to sting, his bottom lip tremble a little.
“You lied to me,” he said, voice thick with emotion.
It was surprisingly easy to look Ivan in the eyes all of a sudden. Ivan stared back just as intensely, reached for his hands. He held them, loose and gentle. “You know I didn’t have a choice.”
Till jerked his hands away. “But you promised me.”
“I know, I know,” Ivan’s eyes were glossy too, brimming with so much emotion Till had to remind himself they were acting. He couldn’t remember ever having to do that before. “But I need you to trust me, okay?”
Till swallowed. “I – I don’t know if I can,” he whispered, just loud enough for Luka and the others to hear.
Ivan frowned, looking thoughtful for a moment. “How can I convince you to trust me?”
He opened his mouth, closed it, cursed himself because – he’d fucking forgotten the line. How could he have forgotten the line? He dared a quick glance at Luka, who was watching him with slightly narrowed eyes.
He was so screwed. Ivan was definitely getting the role, no doubt, but not before Till was probably kicked off the project.
And now he was so nervous he was shaking a little, hopefully not enough to be noticed by Luka and the others but there was no hiding it from Ivan, as close as he was.
So much for being a professional.
Maybe it would be better just to get it over with and admit his mistake, take whatever consequences would follow, even if that meant being kicked off the project. Even if it meant not getting to work with Ivan.
But as soon as he opened his mouth, Ivan surged forward and kissed him.
For a second he just stood there dumbly, eyes wide open. He heard a gasp from the side then a whispered, “I thought they weren’t actually supposed to kiss here?”
The only thing that followed was silence, but Till knew the answer; he might’ve forgotten his line but he still remembered how the scene ended – Ivan’s hand on his neck, thumb stroking his jaw as he begged him for one more chance.
Not a kiss, but something close. The actual kiss came far later in the script.
Till hadn’t prepared himself for this, but he knew he couldn’t risk ruining the scene even more. Eyelashes fluttering, he closed his eyes and cupped Ivan’s face, kissing him back with fervor.
It was like something out of his wildest dreams but also not at all.
After a few seconds, he dared to open his eyes, surprised to find Ivan already staring back at him.
Suddenly Ivan was pulling away, turning toward Luka. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away.”
Till licked his lips, flushed when he realized what he’d done and quickly pursed his lips into a thin line to ignore the urge to do it again.
“Well,” Luka looked torn between amusement and annoyance, “I supposed you were going to kiss him eventually one way or another.”
Till blinked as the words settled. “Wait, you mean – ”
“Don’t get too excited,” he interrupted, already standing, “but you should be optimistic.” Weirdly, he said it while staring at Till like he was the one auditioning for the spot, not Ivan. There was no way he knew, right? Or maybe he was letting him know he was going to be kind enough to ignore his obvious mistake. “We’ll call you once we’ve discussed it and made a final decision.”
Till watched as Luka left with the staff, not even giving them a glance back. For once, he was thankful to be ignored.
Once they were gone, Mizi rushed to his side. “Are you okay?” she asked, side-eyeing Ivan skeptically.
He appreciated her concern, as always, but he was fine. If kissing strangers was an issue for him, he probably would’ve picked a different career path, but even those kisses were usually planned for and this wasn’t, which was jarring, yes, but he wasn’t upset.
Ivan’s manager was at his side, too, looking at him with disapproval. Till wondered how often he did unexpected stuff like that.
Finally he brushed her off and stepped forward, closer to Till. Mizi pursed her lips but didn’t intervene; she really was the perfect manager for him.
“I apologize,” he said, giving a slight bow. “I shouldn’t have done that without warning, but…”
He trailed off, and Mizi finally spoke, “But?”
But Till already knew the answer. Ivan smiled, but it wasn’t mean. “You forgot your line,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Mizi startled, glancing at the script still laid out on the table. “An honest mistake. I didn’t want you getting chided for it, and I thought it’d work as a good enough distraction.”
It certainly had. Till could still feel the press of his lips – plush, but just a little dry.
“You did that for Till?” Mizi asked, sounding skeptical. Till couldn’t blame her; people in the industry rarely looked out for each other like that, nevertheless strangers.
Ivan nodded, his smile growing just a little wider. “I guess you could say I’m intrigued.” He extended a hand and Till took a second too long to move, realizing his intent. Ivan squeezed his hand. “I look forward to working together.”
Till envied his confidence. Technically, nothing was confirmed yet. But even he knew it wasn’t up in the air. Luka just liked making people sweat.
“Me too,” he said.
-
“Did you see Ivan’s manager?” Mizi asked the next day. Shooting wouldn’t start for a few weeks but she came over often just to hang out.
Till blinked. “The girl with the, uh, blue hair and piercing stare?”
He didn’t miss the way her mouth twitched, forming a smile for only a second. “Yeah.”
Till had recognized that smile, however brief. He looked back to the television. “You should go for it.”
“Wh – what?” she stammered, nearly spilling their bowl of popcorn. “I don’t – I mean – ”
He grinned, side-eyeing her. “I always knew you were into the stoic types.”
“She wasn’t – ” Mizi pursed her lips, looking down. “When you two were doing the read, you know how we all left? Well, we talked some.” Her cheeks were flushed, nearly the same shade of her regularly-dyed hair. “She was nicer than you’d think, looking at her.”
Till wasn’t sure how much he believed her. Everyone was nice to Mizi. She was just that kind of person. You would have to be pure evil to be mean to her. “I trust your judgment,” he said instead, reaching out and squeezing her arm.
She peered at him from under her eyelashes. “But what if it complicates things? Especially when you’ll be working with Ivan for the next few months. And I mean, I don’t even know if she’s, you know.”
“And you’ll never know if you don’t ask,” he replied, making sure to soften his voice. “And don’t worry about me, okay? I can take care of my own shit.”
-
Till was confident. It was something Mizi always said she admired about him; he knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to work for it.
But he was also well-aware of his own shortcomings. He could be testy and impatient, and didn’t always take being corrected or criticized well.
“What if I say something wrong?” he whined, standing in front of the oversized mirror in his living room.
Mizi glanced up from her phone. “Then you – and I know this is an abstract concept to you – but you apologize.”
Till glared at her through the mirror. “And what if he says something wrong?”
“You wait it out,” she replied just as easily. “I mean, he seemed nice enough at the chemistry read.” She set her phone aside, seemingly done with it for now. “He didn’t have to help you like that.”
Till felt his cheeks grow warm just remembering the kiss. In the moment, he had been able to control himself, too caught up in making sure he didn’t ruin the scene more or – worse – lose his role. But now, looking back, he couldn’t quite believe he had kissed Ivan.
It was always going to happen, Luka was right, if Ivan got the role but somehow that didn’t make it any easier to believe.
And he had gotten the role; Luka had called him this morning with the good news. After that, Till had thought about texting Ivan, congratulating him. They had exchanged numbers for a reason.
But he couldn’t quite work up the guts to do it.
He must’ve waited too long because eventually a text had popped up on his own phone from ‘Ivan’. (He had debated adding a heart before realizing that was asking for trouble.)
“Since we’ll officially be working together,” it had read, “I would like to get to know each other better.”
Till had mulled over how to respond for so long he had eventually texted Mizi instead for help. With her help, he had responded back with a simple, “How about brunch?”
He still wasn’t sure people actually used the word brunch in real life but he had trusted Mizi more than himself in the moment, and either way it worked out because Ivan said yes.
He said yes with a little :) to be precise and Till felt like his heart was going to burst. He was playing a dangerous game, he knew, letting himself feed into this when they were coworkers, nothing else, but he couldn’t help it.
And Mizi was enabling it.
After their conversation, Mizi had invited herself over to help him get ready. Fair enough, because without Hyuna he wasn’t really too sure how to do much more than throw on a shirt and jeans.
She had helped him with some basic makeup – a bit of eyeliner and gloss – then picked out his outfit for him, which he still wasn’t sure about.
It was brunch, after all, but she had picked out a long-sleeved silky blue shirt and black jeans. He felt a little overdressed but she had assured him it was perfect.
“I should get going,” she announced, tearing him out of his downward spiral. She jumped off the couch and walked over, peering in the mirror alongside him. “You look hot.”
Till snorted, shaking his head. “I used to dream of you hearing you say that.”
And it was true; when they had first met, when his career was still new and fresh, he had immediately developed a crush on her. Now, he was glad they were just friends. Now, they were so close it didn’t even feel weird joking about it.
Mizi winked playfully and patted him on the back. “Just be yourself.”
That was what he was afraid of.
-
Mizi left after that, which was expected – it was only an hour until Ivan was set to arrive – but being alone didn’t help his nerves at all.
Nearly exactly on the dot, Till’s doorbell rang. Old-fashioned, really, because most people just texted when they arrived.
Smoothing his shirt down in the mirror, and reminding himself this wasn’t a date, he walked over and opened the door.
Thankfully, he hadn’t been the only one to get dressed up. Ivan wore a long-sleeved black shirt, tucked neatly into dark blue slacks. His hair was swept back out of his face; if he wore makeup, it wasn’t obvious enough for Till to be able to tell but either way he was as stunning as ever.
Till realized – belatedly – that he had just been staring at him without saying anything for at least a minute. Flushing, he stepped out of the way, a silent invitation inside.
Just as he opened his mouth to say something, anything, Ivan was saying, “I almost feel bad for what I’m about to suggest,” he smiled, small, “considering how good you look.”
Till blinked once, twice. “Oh. Um. What?”
Stupid. He was so stupid.
“You obviously got dressed up intending to go out,” Ivan continued, still smiling with a hint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, “which I know we discussed, but…”
Till swallowed; why was his mouth so dry? “But?”
“But,” Ivan tilted his head a little. “I can’t speak for you, of course, but getting recognized in public is daunting.”
Till was suddenly reminded of their differences. He’d been recognized a few times, sure, but undoubtedly nothing compared to what Ivan went through. His face was plastered everywhere – billboards, magazines, commercials – so no wonder he was tired of getting recognized everywhere he went.
Even if you didn’t know Ivan, you’d at least seen his face. And most people can’t control themselves around a celebrity, regardless of personal interest.
“I understand,” he said finally, not sure what else to say.
Ivan smiled a bit wider. “So do you mind?” Till wasn’t quite sure what he was asking, but thankfully he continued before he could make a fool of himself. “I know it must also be daunting to have a stranger in your apartment.”
The dots connected quickly, suddenly. Till didn’t even have to think about the answer. “I don’t mind at all,” he said, but then, “I just – well.” Warm in the face, he gestured weakly at his kitchen. “I don’t have much.”
“No problem,” Ivan was already pulling out his phone. “We can just order something.”
-
That was how they ended up on his couch, shoes thrown off, eating a pizza. It was oddly comfortable, even though Till kept catching himself staring at Ivan’s mouth.
It was hard not to remember the kiss. It had just been part of the script, albeit a little early. Not to mention, Ivan had only done it to save him from making a complete fool of himself.
But it was still hard to forget, or brush off. After all, Till had admired him (and possibly had a crush on him) for so long. He never imagined just meeting him, nevertheless anything more.
“Do I have something on my face?”
Ivan’s seemingly innocent question was what finally drew him back to reality.
Till startled, nearly dropping his slice of pizza. It was starting to get cold anyway. “Um. No. I mean. Your face is fine.”
He winced at his own words, cursing himself internally.
Ivan smiled – no, that was a smirk. “I’m glad to hear you think my face is ‘fine’.”
“Well, I mean, I didn’t – your face is more than fine,” Till stammered, even as he cursed himself more with each word.
For a moment, there was silence and Till was sure he had finally properly screwed things up. But then Ivan threw his head back and started laughing hard enough he shook the couch a little.
Once he quieted down, he gazed at Till with a crooked smile. “You’re funny.”
Till flushed. “I’m sure you hear that kind of stuff all the time.”
“Mmm,” Ivan tilted his head back and forth. “Yeah, but people are usually a lot more suave about it.” When Till frowned, he nudged him with his foot. “That’s a good thing. I prefer when people don’t try so hard.”
Till couldn’t fight back a smile even if he tried. “Oh.”
“I was gonna suggest we do a readthrough of the script tonight but,” Ivan checked his phone. “It’s getting late.”
Till tried to hide his disappointment. He was surprised how much he’d enjoyed Ivan’s company. He had hoped he would, of course, but he was never sure how these things would go. Like mentioned, he didn’t always get along with people easily. And Ivan was, well, Ivan.
Famous, beautiful, rich. Till expected him to be a lot more conceited or snobby. Most of the famous people Till met were like that, after all, but not Ivan. He was sweet. A little odd, but wasn’t everyone?
“Are you free next Friday?” Ivan asked.
Till didn’t even have to think. If he had plans, he would just have to reschedule.
“Um, probably,” he said, aiming for casual and probably failing.
Ivan smiled again; he had one fang that Till was starting to think was unfairly adorable. “We can meet, then, go over the script.”
“Sounds good.” Amazing, actually, but he didn’t dare seem too eager, even though he was starting to think Ivan wouldn’t mind.
-
“Soooo,” Mizi slung herself over the couch ungracefully. “How did it go, hmm?”
Till snorted, pushing her out of the way to sit down. “I – ” His smile fell. Mizi was quick to adapt, sitting up properly. She had always been good at adapting to his moods. “I think I might be screwed.”
“What?” she leaned in closer. “Did he do something?”
Till appreciated her concern, as unfounded as it was. “No, he was… he was great, actually. We ate pizza and talked about a lot of nothing. He mentioned coming over next Friday so we can actually go over the script.”
“So… what’s wrong?” She was frowning, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He couldn’t blame her.
He sighed, peering down at his hands folded together in his lap. “I think I could really like him, Mizi. Like… a lot.”
The thing was, he had never really liked someone before. He had certainly never dated. Beyond his short-lived crush on Mizi, passionate as it was, he had never even gotten the urge to date, or even do what a lot of other actors did and sleep around casually.
And now he was worried if he spent too much time with Ivan, that might change. Turn into something more than a crush from afar.
For a long moment, they were both silent. Finally, Mizi reached for his hands, cradling them gently.
“You are a really good person, Till.”
He rolled his eyes, an automatic response. She squeezed his hands harder.
“You always undervalue yourself, Till,” she continued, and he couldn’t look away from her determined gaze. “You act overconfident to make up for it, but I know you too well for that. You don’t know think someone like Ivan could ever like you but you fail to realize he’d be lucky to have you.”
He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “I – ”
But she apparently wasn’t finished, “I met with Sua.” She paused for a moment, like she was realizing something. “Ivan’s manager,” she clarified. “We really hit it off. She cares for Ivan like I care for you, I think.”
He just nodded, unsure where this was going but happy for her either way.
“I probably shouldn’t say this, it isn’t my place but,” she smiled, small, “I will, because I think you need to hear it. Apparently Ivan can’t stop talking about you. Sua said he’s never been so interested in another person. She even asked me about you.” Her smile widened a bit. “I only said good things, of course. I knew she was just worried.”
Till couldn’t believe it. He had also never known Mizi to lie, especially about serious stuff.
“But I – I can’t,” he stammered, looking down at their hands. “Even if he was interested,” which was so hard to believe he almost felt like he was dreaming, “I can’t risk it.”
Mizi ducked her head, forcing her eyes to meet again. “Why not?”
“You know why,” he said, and he wasn’t even embarrassed that he sounded like a petulant child. “I would be risking the movie. If we had a fight or – or broke up, I don’t know if I could pretend like nothing happened.”
He was making a lot of assumptions anyway; assuming Ivan was interested in something more, when maybe he just wanted something casual or temporary. But still the details didn’t matter. Either way, Till knew he couldn’t go back to acting like only coworkers.
“Till, I know you care about this movie,” she smiled again but there was something sad about the curve of her mouth, pitying. “But sometimes life is about taking chances. You can’t just depend on your career for happiness forever.”
He wanted to argue because he couldn’t find the words. Mizi squeezed his hands even tighter. It was almost painful but also oddly comforting.
“What if you got a role a few years from now – your dream role – but then suddenly you were kicked off the cast.” Till waited, knowing she wasn’t finished. “You would be devastated, obviously, but you would be even more devastated if you had to go home to an empty apartment.”
Till licked his lips; when did they get so dry?
“Plenty of people are satisfied never having a partner. Dating.”
Mizi rolled her eyes. “I know that but I also know you’re not one of them, Till.”
She really did know him too well. “But we’re both famous, Mizi, and he’s – he’s a household name. If we dated, we couldn’t keep it from the public for too long. Someone would find out.”
“And that is something worth discussing,” she finally released his hands, choosing instead to squeeze his wrist. “With him.”
Till suddenly felt like crying. He didn’t, but his eyes burned. “What if we’re wrong? Even Sua?”
“Then you can come to me and cry it out.” She smiled, warm and sincere.
It was a decent enough backup plan. Without warning, he lunged forward and hugged her. “Have I said recently how you are the best manager in the world?”
“You don’t have to tell me, I already know.”
-
Till decided not to rush it, even if Mizi suggested texting Ivan and setting a closer date to see each other again.
When Friday finally rolled around, he felt like he was going to be sick.
He made a point to not dress up, just a pair of his usual jeans and a black t-shirt. If this was going to happen, he wanted to be sure it was because Ivan really liked him. Not because he thought he looked good enough to settle for.
A few minutes after 12, his doorbell rang.
Brushing by the mirror without looking, he opened the door. Ivan had apparently had the same thought; he looked as gorgeous as last time, obviously, but he was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans too with a thin jacket. His hair also wasn’t slicked back, hanging loosely around his face.
He also had a bag, probably to carry around the script and whatever else he might need.
Like last time, they ordered food and ended up on the couch. This time, however, they had the scripts. Till noticed a ton of highlighted parts in Ivan’s copy; maybe he shouldn’t have assumed he just had a natural gift for memorizing things. He had obviously worked just as hard.
For a while, they just rehearsed through the easy parts. Didn’t bother acting any of the parts out just yet.
Most of that stuff – gestures, movements – would be changed before they actually started filming anyway so Till didn’t usually worry about it, just focused on the actual dialogue.
But then they flipped the page and Till saw it: the scene where they kissed. The actual scene.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. When Till finally chanced a look up, he noticed Ivan was already looking at him.
“Do you usually practice these parts?” Ivan asked.
Till tried to decipher his voice, his expression, but it was all perfectly neutral.
“Sometimes,” he answered, because it was true. “Makes it less awkward later.” But other actors preferred keeping any kissing strictly in front of the camera. Till didn’t really have a preference.
Ivan hummed thoughtfully. “Well then, I’m up for it, if you are.”
He could almost hear Mizi in his head, telling him he shouldn’t do this. He should confess, first, otherwise it wasn’t fair. To him or Ivan. And he would confess tonight. He had already made that decision but…
Couldn’t he be just a little selfish first?
“Sure.” Understatement of the century.
Collecting their scripts, Till set them aside on the coffee table and was relieved when Ivan made the first move to scoot closer. He still couldn’t quite read his face, perfectly blank.
“Let me know if you want to stop,” Ivan said, a hand already reaching out and settling on Till’s neck, warm and heavy.
Till was pretty sure Ivan could’ve done anything to him in that moment and he still wouldn’t have asked him to stop, but he appreciated the sentiment.
Not trusting his voice, Till just gave a tiny nod and that seemed to be enough for Ivan. He leaned forward, slowly, like he was giving Till the chance to stop him if he wanted to.
He didn’t.
Finally their lips touched, just a gentle press. Ivan’s lips were even softer than he remembered, warmer too. The script didn’t detail the kiss; that would be decided later with help from the director but – Till supposed Ivan was preparing for everything as he tilted his head, pressing their lips together with a bit more fervor.
Hardly complaining, Till kissed back, scooting a little closer. That should’ve been it. Given the scene, it was doubtful the kiss was going to be anything more than this.
But Ivan didn’t pull away, and Till wasn’t going to be the first to end it.
Opening his eyes, he finally wasn’t surprised for once to find Ivan already staring back at him. What was difference, however, was the look in his eyes. Intense, but somehow warm.
Till felt a shiver down his spine and decided this was it. Words had never been his specialty. Moving quickly, he shifted up onto his knees and swung a leg over Ivan to settle on the other side, kissing him the entire time.
Only once he was settled, straddling him, did he finally pull back. “Is this okay?”
Ivan’s eyes were always dark, nearly black, but this was something else. “Depends,” he replied, low but steady. He lifted his hands, placing them on Till’s hips. “Is this okay?”
Instead of replying with words, Till just leaned in and kissed him again. This kiss was immediately different from the first, filthy and almost aggressive. Ivan bit at his bottom lip, just the edge of too hard, and Till let out a sound in the back of his throat that was outright embarrassing.
He only pulled back for air when he absolutely had to, panting a little to catch his breath. Ivan’s eyes were half-lidded; he somehow looked the best he ever had. Till swallowed. This was his chance.
“I have something to confess,” he forced the words out before he could reconsider.
Ivan blinked, once, almost immediately looking more alert. “What?” His hands shifted on his hips but didn’t pull away. “Do you want to stop?”
“Quite literally the opposite,” he replied, feeling nearly delirious. This was it. “I know this is – probably not what you want at all, and I’m probably reading too much into everything, and – and I know this could get in the way of the movie, I’m not an idiot, but I think I would really regret not saying it.”
Ivan squeezed his hips, then, and it was enough to make him feel a little more grounded. “You’re kind of scaring me here, Till.”
He stared at Ivan for a moment, appreciating every detail of his face, before he took a deep breath, “I think I could end up liking you.” He paused, letting the words settle properly in the silence between them. “A lot.”
Till wasn’t sure what he was expecting. The silence lingered so long he was starting to feel an ache in his chest.
Without a word, he went to move off Ivan’s lap but his hands tightened around his waist. “Stay,” he said, the softest Till had ever heard his voice.
“You don’t have to try and – and placate me,” Till stammered, but he didn’t try to move again. “I’m not gonna be mad at you for not feeling the same way.”
Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. Till watched his face flicker through about ten different emotions before suddenly he was kissing him again, hard and messy. Till gasped into his mouth, surprised – confused – but hardly disappointed.
He curled his fingers in Ivan’s hair, eyelashes fluttering. He could do this forever. He also knew he needed a real answer.
He deserved that.
Mustering all his courage, he pulled back. Ivan stared up at him with a newfound intensity. He forced himself to speak around the lump in his throat, “I’ve admired you for a long time. I know that might not be – appealing, in this context. But I don’t think that has anything to do with what I’ve felt since we met.”
Ivan continued to stare at him. Till gulped.
“You’re just not what I expected,” he paused. “In a really good way, and I’ve never done this before. Not just with another actor. Or, uh, coworker. I mean, like at all.”
The corner of Ivan’s mouth started to quirk up. “You’re cute.”
“Oh.” Till flushed. “Thank you?”
Ivan let out a soft laugh; gently, he moved Till off him. Under different circumstances, he might’ve overthought what that meant but Ivan was still smiling, warm and small.
“Are you asking me out, Till?” he asked, not even trying to hide the mirth in his eyes.
He supposed he was, in a way. “I mean, that’s – that’s assuming a lot. I just, I wanted to let you know. I didn’t – ” He hadn’t expected anything, he meant to say, but he suddenly stopped, finally connecting the dots. “Wait. Does that mean – ?”
Ivan leaned against the back of the couch, watching him with that same sparkle in his eyes. “I liked you the second I set my eyes on you,” the confession felt like igniting fire in Till’s very core. “I wasn’t sure why, at first. I’d never felt that way before, and we barely knew each other.”
Till didn’t dare speak; he didn’t trust his voice anyway.
“But you’re… different,” Ivan hummed. “I can’t quite put my finger on it.” He smiled, that fang poking out again. Till wanted to feel it against his lip again. “And frankly, I don’t really care to.”
He paused, reaching out. Till didn’t even think twice, moving as if commanded by something out of his control. Ivan held his hand gently, thumb pressing into his knuckles, not hard but comforting. Grounding, like he somehow knew Till felt a little untethered.
“But I’m assuming you know by now I can’t promise you this won’t get out. Even when you’re surrounded by people you think you can trust, it’s not quite true in our line of work, is it?”
Till had already went over this in his head. “I don’t mind. I think it’s worth the risk.”
“We should at least keep it between us,” Ivan said softly, and Till wasn’t sure yet what he was going to say next. If he wanted to keep this hidden because he was ashamed or embarrassed to be seen with him. But then – “Just until the movie is done shooting. I don’t want them to project or assume anything just because we’re together.”
Till nodded. “I agree,” he said, meaning it. It was the smart move. “And if anything happens, if this doesn’t work, I need us to be on the same page.”
“I hope we won’t have to worry about that,” Ivan replied, “but the fact you even want to discuss it...” He smiled again, almost approvingly. Till didn’t want to admit how much that did for his confidence. “I promise you won’t have anything to worry about from my end. I could even give you something to use against me, if it would give you peace of mind.”
Till let out a sudden laugh, surprised by the odd offer. But just as Ivan kept saying he was different, he was starting to think Ivan’s oddness was what had really captivated him. “I’ll just have to take your word for it,” he said, still smiling.
-
They never ended up having to worry about. Months later, when the movie was wrapping up, they all celebrated by having dinner at Ivan’s house. The place had always been beautiful, from the very first time Till had seen it, but now it felt more like a proper home.
Pictures lined the walls that used to be empty, mostly of the two of them, but some were just of Till. He complained about them, sometimes, embarrassed but secretly he liked it.
Some were of all of them – Ivan, arms wrapped around Till. Mizi and Sua, heads tilted together.
Till was pretty sure he had died and gone to heaven. Or maybe he just should’ve been more hopeful when he was younger because sometimes he still struggled to believe this was real.
Sitting at the table, Ivan on his left and Mizi on his right, he wondered what he had done to end up lucky enough to have met both of them.
Or maybe Ivan was right, as he always liked to say: “You deserve good things, Till.”
Till still remembered the first time he’d said it when they were laid out in his bed. He had kissed Till’s forehead and he had suddenly felt the urge to cry, eyes burning.
Maybe, just maybe, he was finally starting to believe it.
“Can you believe they still haven’t figured it out?” Mizi was saying, giggling around the rim of her wine glass. “’How is their chemistry so good?’” she said, repeating what the director had said earlier.
Till hadn’t really heard him. He’d been too busy kissing Ivan with as much fervor as he kissed him every night. He supposed there were benefits, actually, to dating your costar.
Sua smiled at her side. “You can’t blame him. I’m surprised they were actually able to keep it hidden until the end of filming.”
Till chanced a glance at Ivan, who was already staring back at him. He smiled. Ivan smiled back, giving a nod.
“About that, actually,” Till cleared his throat. “We are planning to disclose that we’re dating. Not how long, obviously, but… we thought it might make things easier, especially since Ivan can’t stop complaining about wanting to take me places and not being able to.”
Mizi smiled, shifting to take Sua’s hand where it was resting atop the table.
“We’re happy for you.” She glanced at Ivan. “Both of you.”
-
At the end of the night, Till was surprised to have Mizi pull him away from Ivan’s side. She walked them to the edge of the porch, grasping his hands tightly in her own.
“I know this is going to be cheesy and you’ll hate every second of it,” she said, “but I just really need to say it.”
Till tilted his head with a confused smile.
“I used to worry about you.” She squeezed his hands tighter. “You always acted like you were fine on your own but I just – I could tell you had so much love to give and for a while I almost felt guilty, turning you down.”
Till tensed, already opening his mouth, but she continued, “I know you never wanted me to, and you never did anything to make me feel that. I promise. It was just – normal concern for a friend, okay?”
She gently shook their hands, smiling now. “But now I see you with Ivan and… Till, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”
He couldn’t fight the smile off his own face, small and sincere. He stared down at their hands. “I – ” He paused, swallowed around the lump in his throat. He hadn’t even said this to Ivan, yet, but somehow it felt right. Saying it, now, to Mizi first. “I think I love him.”
For a long moment, there was silence. When he finally glanced up, Mizi wasn’t looking at him. She was staring over his shoulder, eyes a little wide, and –
He dropped her hands and spun around. Ivan stood there, frozen with his hand in the air like he had just been about to tap his shoulder. Mizi squeaked and scooted past them, rushing to join Sua at the other end of the porch.
“I was going to ask if you were cold,” Ivan said, dropping his hand. It was chilly out, middle of autumn now, and Ivan knew he ran cold. The simple but sweet gesture made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest.
Till just nodded, not trusting his voice. Ivan shucked off his jacket and moved to wrap it around his frame.
“I didn’t want you hear that,” Till said finally, clutching the jacket to keep it from falling. “I was going to tell you soon. Just needed the right moment. I know it’s probably too soon or I don’t know, I don’t really know how to gauge these things – ”
Ivan moved, smooth but fast, wrapping an arm around his waist and drawing him in close enough to tip their foreheads together. If he remembered they still had company present, he didn’t seem phased by it. “I don’t believe in there being a right time for anything,” he breathed softly. “I love you, Till.”
He smiled so big he knew his cheeks were going to hurt later. He didn’t care. Happiness was worth it. “Good,” he said before cupping both sides of Ivan’s face and kissing him.
It reminded him a lot of their first kiss but this time the roles were reversed. Ivan seemed surprised for just a second before he smiled against his lips, tugging him even closer.
When they separated, Till was breathless. He wasn’t complaining.
“I hate to say this,” he let out a shaky laugh, still catching his breath, “but I think we need to send a thank you card or something.”
Ivan raised an eyebrow, searching his face. “To who?”
“I’ll tell you later,” he replied before moving in to kiss him again. He heard Sua’s groan from across the porch. Ivan laughed against his mouth.
-
A week before they left for their first vacation, just a couple days after the news of them dating had hit the media, Till went to the store and picked out a card. It was the vaguest card he could find in the store, just a simple “thank you” with a smiley face on the front. He signed it just as simply – Ivan and Till – and left it like that. He trusted Luka to figure it out.
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v3nusxsky · 2 days
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Hi! It's me again, I would properly ask for request on "Jealous Daddy! Lesso x R? Like Lady lesso find out who the reader seeing and got angry about it? Mention of caning and comfort s*x in the end?
Suffocating in unspoken words 18+
*authors note~ woahhhh smut finally? Hell yeah. Also I make no apologies for needing a jealous Leo to throw me around😳 also Leo is a bit of a dick here, NEVER treat any of your partners like this, aftercare is extremely important guys.*
Trigger warnings~ daddy kink, jealousy dom Leo sub r angry sex rough strap on oral strap refused to as the real deal, choking, hair pulling face slapping doggy spanking degrading slight praise, no aftercare (Leonora is a very toxic )
Prompt~ see ask^^^^
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There is no denying you are gorgeous, both women could agree on that, but that fact only aided the war between them. Larissa being the observer that she is could tell how wound up your boss was at her presence. In fact she got a thrill from the fact. Often, when you were in her lap she would search for the dark haired woman’s eyes in the crowds before moving her hands over the exposed skin of your back. Trailing all over you, causing little goosebumps to appear as you’d grind your hips into her, head falling onto her shoulder as breathless moans fell from your lips. Something the blonde principal enjoyed immensely. Something Lesso couldn’t stand to see.
One particularly busy night, Larissa Weems had to fight for your attention, something she didn’t enjoy. But what made things worse was that anytime Leonora saw you, you were perched on the principals lap. Jealousy brewing within the dark haired woman every time she caught the scene. Her feelings being painfully obvious but trauma can do some funny things to people, which is why she channeled them through anger. Meanwhile, Larissa was doing her best to turn you into a needy mess on her lap, anything to make you more agreeable to her little proposal. A long time coming now for her, she wanted to ask you to be hers. The original plan was to ask you for a drink, to see if you were truly interested or just amazing at luring in clients. Despite being middle aged, the principal could safely state that she hadn’t wanted anyone in the ways she wants you. It’s more than just one night of pleasurable heights. It’s more than a friends with benefits situation. It’s more than sex. Something about you made her want to know all the small things like your middle name, your favourite colour, your hopes and dreams and every single piece of knowledge she could devour.
Ironically, both the women who want you seem to be oblivious to each others intent, you being clueless to each of their intentions, yet you wanted them both. Despite how harsh Leonora was with you, it wouldn’t be fair to say that you didn’t enjoy that. In fact, you just so happened to find that side of the woman attractive, of course you longed for the sweet moments too, deep down you think she likes you too. Maybe. Yet with Larissa, you are practically bathed in praise and compliments, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you crave the woman or the darker side of the principal. Each of the ladies providing a perfect mix of the harsh yet lovely treatment. One problem is that they seemed to despise the other, providing you with the assessment that you’d have to choose. But would you be happy with just one of them?
“Doll?” Larissa practically purred as you gathered your clothing you’d shredded earlier, “would you like to come to dinner? With me?” You could tell the blonde principal was nervous by the way her last words quietened and her eyes darted up and down your frame, anywhere but your beautiful eyes. “Oh, Miss Weems, are you sure? I mean what if you don’t like me outside of the palace of all things sinner?” You mumbled slightly attempting to hide your blush by turning away to the left slightly. “Oh sweet girl, I desire nothing more than to get to know you for more than just your gorgeous body darling. You’re stunning but I’m sure your heart is one of a kind. Even if all you offer is companionship, I’d still choose you out of all the women here. So would give me that chance darling? To take things to whatever level you’re comfortable with as long as you’re by my side pretty girl.”
With a shy yes you arranged to meet the woman at Nevermore, from there she’d pull out all of the stops to ensure your happiness. It is evident you were nervous and with everything she said, she meant. If only having you as a companion was all she was allowed then she’d still die a happy woman. With a sweet press of her ruby red lips to your cheek she bid you a good night. Little did you know, your boss having now worked out just what her feelings may indicate actually heard the conversation. You wanted her. That was clear as day. The blonde woman seemingly snatching you away from right under her nose, temper flaring at the thought of being too late. You had to be hers, the raven haired woman decided she’d stop at nothing to get you in the palm of her hand. Even as busied yourself with the end of shift tasks, a simile graced your lips at the thought of your upcoming time with the tall blonde. You didn’t even consider that Lesso would be silently seething about it. Of course, if there’s one thing your boss is known for is her jealousy.
“You” she growled as you began to carefully free your hair from the millions of grips pinning it to your scalp. “Lesso?” You mumbled in confusion as you turned to face the dark haired woman. “What can I do for you?” You mumbled, your gaze anywhere but her eyes after catching the anger swirling in them. You hadn’t broken any of the house rules, all the clients were happy. So you couldn’t be the cause for her apparent distress. “You’re mine” she all but growled at you, stalking forward as if you were mere prey to a lion. With an eye roll and clear annoyance written over your features you fought back, “whatever! I don’t belong to anyone. Especially not you.”
“Stupid Dolly, you’ve always been mine. Nothing but a slut, holes that are only good to be used and then discarded as if you are just a toy. Mine. Not that blonde bitch you seem to enjoy whoring your bratty self out to” she seethed, her cane slamming into the ground as if she were a toddler having a tantrum. “You don’t even know me Leonora” you hissed, realistically who was she to get mad because Larissa flirts and wants to continue? It’s not your fault your boss was all hot and flirting one minute too cold and damn right rude the next. “I know everything about you pretty whore, more than you know. Now get your sweet ass up and over my lap. Daddy clearly needs to train her bitch better”. She couldn’t be serious? But the anger still swirling at your ignorance told you she was, perhaps that’s why you shuffled to the sofa and did as asked. To see how far she’d take it.
“I’ll calve my name into your precious skin if I have to, you will accept that you are mine” she promised as you settled yourself ass up over her lap. “You. You. You. You’re always driving me fucking crazy” she growled teasing your soft globes of skin with the cool metal cane. “You aren’t seeing her again dolly. Now count” she stated before continually bringing her cane down against your soft skin. Every cry of pain only adding to the arousal she felt. “You made daddy do this sweetheart. You know daddy wouldn’t want to hurt such a precious dove like you. You know I love you and only want the best for you. I’m am the best for you dolly. Not her. Tell daddy you understand it’s more than sex. That your mine” her request seeming instant as you gasped through the pain of the ten strikes she just laid on your ass.
Being impossibly turned on, you did as she requested even though you weren’t quite sure she was correct. Perhaps that’s why she grabbed a fist full of your hair and yanked you up to a standing position. Dark eye makeup smeared across your face from all the tears distracting Lesso from her own carnal needs. “Pretty tears for a pretty slut” she murmured before focusing on the task at hand, freeing her not so little friend. And at the sight you were practically drooling like a bitch In heat much to her amusement. “Gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be ruined for good. All mine. Fucking slutty pussy is soaking baby” she mumbled as her lips nipped sucked and licked your exposed skin, ripping any garments that remained a barrier between you both.
You were sure you would be covered in markings in the morning, but you couldn’t really seem to care right now. It all felt so good until you made the mistake of trying to get what you wanted from the older woman. Slender fingers wrapped themselves around your delicate neck, pressing ever so slightly too much to make her point clear. You’d only be getting what she offered, no more, no less. After all Leonora doesn’t do feelings, she does one night and gone. Never in her life has she needed anyone the way she needs you, In her own way an admission that she loves and needs you but can’t vocalise that. So instead she treats you as if you’re nothing but a common whore, hoping to get you out of her system.
“Get on your knees whore” she gravely whispered in your ear, pushing your body towards the sofa, on your hands and knees, when you weren’t moving fast enough for her taste. “Filthy slut” she muttered watching as your juices drip down your thighs. “Pretty cunt” was all she offered, teasing your soaking core with the huge head of her cock. With faux sympathy she continued with “shame I’m going to have to ruin it” before pushing into your tight little hole. “L-eo please I can’t” you whimpered with more tears streaming down your cheeks, only to have your head yanked up by her hand in your hair, “it’s daddy you dumb slut! God can’t do anything right can you?”
“Fuckin take it” she gritted out as she found the perfect angle and rhythm to drill your poor pussy with. The position leaving you powerless as she forced your head into the sofa and used your body for leverage. All the tension from the past weeks melting away as she made you hers. It appears one hit of you wouldn’t be enough to state her but that’s a problem for another time. Instead she focused and railing you until she got bored. “Messy fucking slut” she grumbled as she pulled her faux cock from your used body that lay in a shaking pile of bones and skin.
Hate sex. She had to remember this isn’t love. She can’t love. Especially not you. No. Lesso knew she didn’t deserve someone so pure, and after the way she’d just used your body she hoped you’d hate her just as much as she hates herself right now. But you will always be hers. No one can have you now. After all, she doesn’t share what is hers. Ever. Tucking the now cum covered silicon dick back into her pants she gets up and makes herself presentable. “Cover up slut or are you giving everyone a show? You. Are. Mine.” She growled as she left the changing rooms. There you finally let the tears fall, you’d only ever be a quickie for her, a thing. A set of holes. Why can’t she just see you as you? And more importantly why do you still want her to want you? Like you. Love you. It should be an easy choice for you, choose Larissa. Yet, your heart is always torn between them, shattered but still there.
Sharing a bond with Lesso when your first met wasn’t helping the situation now, and really you didn’t know what to do. Everything was consensual but your feelings were now fried. On auto pilot really you throw a hooded sweatshirt and some joggers on before driving back to Jericho, past your dingy little flat and straight to Nevermore. Would you even be able to get in? To find her? You didn’t know but it’s like your mind knew the roads like the back of your hand.
Leaving Sinful Souls over two hours ago, Larissa wasn’t expecting to see anyone. Knocking at her office door could’ve been anyone from the sheriff to Wednesdays Addams or another staff member. But in all the possibilities, she’d never thought you’d be on her doorstep, shivering, black smudged eye makeup caressing your cheeks, looking two times smaller and holding back sobs. “Oh sweet girl! Come in. What happened darling? What can I do?” The older shifter couldn’t help but immediately try to fix whatever had occurred but that only made you cry more, her arms barely catching you before you hit the ground.
Unsurprisingly, during work you’d acquired a few alcoholic drinks, so sitting here, two glasses of wine later, you were becoming quite the emotional drunk. Rambling on about Lesso and why couldn’t she want you. Love you. And why you couldn’t have both. You wanted Larissa. She knew that. You’d told her many times in the past hour. But you wanted Leonora too. And the way she’d treated you was so incredibly wrong, Larissa just knew she had to fix it for her sweet girl. Lesso would learn her lesson.
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Thank you for your service smol o7 this game has been on my thoughts 24/7 lol so it’s nice to see someone writing for it!!
I was hoping I could request some jealousy headcanons about the ghouls being pouty MC is hanging out with others so much because of their missions with other houses. In particular I was hoping for my boy Haku (I know we don’t have a main chapter for him yet but he did have those two chunks of screen time—if he’s too difficult because of not enough info don’t worry about it then!); as well as maybe Jin, Luca and whoever else you’d like!
Thanks again~
Just like another ask i got, I'm gonna write Haku based on the vibe I got from him. This could be proven entirely inaccurate in the later game and I am okay with that lol. I'm gonna round it to an even four characters. All these will be before any relationship actually happens. Like there's a crush there but no one has said anything yet.
And thank YOU for sending in a request and enjoying!
Be aware! These will contain minor spoilers for episode 3!
JIN KAMURAI
I feel like silver spoon Jin has no experience with certain types of jealousy. Materialistic jealousy? Doesn't know her. But when he heard how close MC had been getting with some of those Vagastrom thugs? Oh it made his blood boil.
At first I'm sure he thought it was because on of his orders was being defied. But that feeling only got stronger when MC was finished with Vagastrom and moved onto Jabberwok.
Good luck to Tohma because mans here does not know what to do about these emotions. This is one of those problems that can't be fixed with money and he is NOT happy about it. He goes back to brooding in his room for a while to think things through.
He will not tolerate any disrespect from any theories that the Frostheim gossip elite have. But when he noticed the like dove flying in the direction of MC'S dorm, things suddenly started to click in his head.
LUCAS ERRANT "LUCA"
Our boy here is another one who isn't necessarily familiar with jealousy. Its for similar reasons of, he comes from a well off family, but different in the way he was raised and things he's been through as a little kid.
He's glad to see MC making more friends and making possible progress on breaking their curse, at first. When they get to Jabberwok however, he hears from Kaito that their vice captain Towa is a bit of (how Kaito put it), "a fucking weirdo", which gives him some pause.
When Kaito came running up to Luca showing him a WickChat post about MC having a possible boyfriend (its false, its just Towa being affectionate and someone saw). He feels his heart sink a little bit
He made a mental note to text MC later to ask about it and get all the information he could about their relationship and about the Jabberwock students. He promised to protect MC not matter what. Hopefully they could explain the strange twist in his chest while they talked too.
ALAN MIDO
He doesn't really get jealous. Period.
I think he's the kind of guy to know how strong he is, he knows his reputation. He's tech hopeless, not a moron. So just being around him can scare off people from getting too close to MC while he's around.
He himself overheard about MC having a possible boyfriend (same post from Luca's) from Leo telling Sho. He didn't pay any real mind to it until he heard Leo mention how affectionate they were.
That's the one thing he gets jealous about. He's a bit more aware of his feelings than people might think, so he knows he has a crush on MC. He just hasn't had the time to tell them that.
The rumor takes some wind out of Alan's sails for sure. He's more likely to believe that MC would pick someone else over him since I think he'd be more hesitant on something like physical affection.
He knows his strength and he knows MC'S ability, he would be too afraid that he'd lose control and do something else he might regret, so out of everyone on this list. I think Alan would be the one to take longer to confess because of jealousy and his insecurities.
HAKU KUSANAGI
I don't remember if it's explicitly said anywhere (my memory sucks butt I'm sorry) but he gives older sibling energy with how he cleaned up after Taiga in the prologue. So I KNOW he's been worried about MC since they last saw eachother.
He was at least somewhat relieved when he found them hanging out with the Frostheim second years, but there was a pang in his he couldn't quite place. He chalked it up to just being a worrywart and left it alone.
But when he heard that MC had gone missing in episode 3, he was READY to jump in to go help the search and rescue team. His heart was racing and he was suddenly confronted with feelings that were coming out of left field (no they weren't)
When MC returns back safely, Haku has half a mind to go fight with the professor Hyde about sending the very human honor student on such dangerous missions. He keeps a much closer eye on them from now on and with his status as an heir to (what i assume) is a beloved shrine, he tries to request that MC be sent to work with Hotarubi next.
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fizzlehead · 2 years
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why are people so fucking intent on coming into the notes of that stupid roller coaster post just so they can tell me i don’t know anything about horses. “op has never met a horse in their life” i’ve met countless horses and consider each and every one of them to be one of my closest friends. “horses are evil and want to kill you” maybe they want to kill YOU but not me. i literally think you all just suck and have terrible vibes
#this post makes it seem like I’m joking but I’m not. you people are so fucking annoying#horses are literally not evil they are just animals. if you treat them correctly and take the necessary safety precautions they will not#hurt you. revealing myself as an annoying horse girl here but like. it really is that fucking simple. so maybe stop coming into my notes and#telling me I don’t know anything about horses because if I did I’d know that they’re evil creatures with a thirst for blood. you arent funny#revealing myself as even more of an annoying horse girl but like. i took horseback riding for several years. it is not that fucking hard to#avoid getting hurt by a horse. don’t walk directly behind them make sure they can always see you keep your fingers away from their mouths#so they don’t mistake them for carrots. like they teach you all of these things day one. and they are not difficult to follow. a horse is#not going to kick you in the fucking head for no reason unless you are essentially going out of your way to make it happen#the horses are evil jokes are already overused and unfunny but coming into my notes and going out of your way to tell me I don’t know#anything about horses just because you’re stupid and misinformed is so unnecessary. fuck off for real#this is such unnecessary anger. but I don’t care I’m sooooooo sick of it. shut up make your own post etc etc#and also like. accidents happen even if you are being safe but this is true of literally any animal on earth. dogs hurt people. cats hurt#people. they’re animals and it happens. it doesn’t make them fucking evil#taylor xoxo
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floral-hex · 11 months
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It’s almost 6 in the morning. Can’t sleep. Admittedly lonely. So I’ll type a little text post to feel like I’m actually “doing” something.
Doubled my vilazadone. Started buspirone. I’ve been on a diuretic for my ears (it’s complicated) for about a week now, but whether it’s coincidental or not, my hearing has been pretty great since I started. But hearing comes and goes, so we’ll see if this holds in the coming weeks. My body is having trouble adjusting to all of these new meds, but I think it’s starting to rebalance itself. Chemicals, man…
Okay, I really don’t know what else to say here. Just bored on a Saturday night… well, now Sunday morning. Might go eat some captain crunch. I just started the buspirone and I think it’s maybe making me.. eeeeee 😬😬😬😬… you get it? Not anxious, just on edge. They said take before bed to get used to it, but maybe they meant “hey, take as you’re falling asleep, because if you’re awake when it kicks in, you will stay awake.” Or maybe it’s just normal loneliness and anxiety keeping me up. Who knows. This seems like a downer post, yeah? Sorry. It’ll be positive, ya. I’ll go make some cereal, watch some tv, you all can do whatever you’re doing this morning. There are some birds chirping outside, I’ll see if my cats are awake, it’ll be nice.
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gobbluthbutagirl · 2 years
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there is like a high probability that i will wind up getting this lead position at my job because my talk with the store director went really well and the problem with this is that i feel the exact same way about this that i did when i got my GED four years ago. and the way that i feel is the way that talk show host by radiohead sounds. which is empty(and nothing. nothing. nothing. nothing)
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eelhound · 9 months
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"The idea of reforming Omelas is a pleasant idea, to be sure, but it is one that Le Guin herself specifically tells us is not an option. No reform of Omelas is possible — at least, not without destroying Omelas itself:
If the child were brought up into the sunlight out of that vile place, if it were cleaned and fed and comforted, that would be a good thing, indeed; but if it were done, in that day and hour all the prosperity and beauty and delight of Omelas would wither and be destroyed. Those are the terms.
'Those are the terms', indeed. Le Guin’s original story is careful to cast the underlying evil of Omelas as un-addressable — not, as some have suggested, to 'cheat' or create a false dilemma, but as an intentionally insurmountable challenge to the reader. The premise of Omelas feels unfair because it is meant to be unfair. Instead of racing to find a clever solution ('Free the child! Replace it with a robot! Have everyone suffer a little bit instead of one person all at once!'), the reader is forced to consider how they might cope with moral injustice that is so foundational to their very way of life that it cannot be undone. Confronted with the choice to give up your entire way of life or allow someone else to suffer, what do you do? Do you stay and enjoy the fruits of their pain? Or do you reject this devil’s compromise at your own expense, even knowing that it may not even help? And through implication, we are then forced to consider whether we are — at this very moment! — already in exactly this situation. At what cost does our happiness come? And, even more significantly, at whose expense? And what, in fact, can be done? Can anything?
This is the essential and agonizing question that Le Guin poses, and we avoid it at our peril. It’s easy, but thoroughly besides the point, to say — as the narrator of 'The Ones Who Don’t Walk Away' does — that you would simply keep the nice things about Omelas, and work to address the bad. You might as well say that you would solve the trolley problem by putting rockets on the trolley and having it jump over the people tied to the tracks. Le Guin’s challenge is one that can only be resolved by introspection, because the challenge is one levied against the discomforting awareness of our own complicity; to 'reject the premise' is to reject this (all too real) discomfort in favor of empty wish fulfillment. A happy fairytale about the nobility of our imagined efforts against a hypothetical evil profits no one but ourselves (and I would argue that in the long run it robs us as well).
But in addition to being morally evasive, treating Omelas as a puzzle to be solved (or as a piece of straightforward didactic moralism) also flattens the depth of the original story. We are not really meant to understand Le Guin’s 'walking away' as a literal abandonment of a problem, nor as a self-satisfied 'Sounds bad, but I’m outta here', the way Vivier’s response piece or others of its ilk do; rather, it is framed as a rejection of complacency. This is why those who leave are shown not as triumphant heroes, but as harried and desperate fools; hopeless, troubled souls setting forth on a journey that may well be doomed from the start — because isn’t that the fate of most people who set out to fight the injustices they see, and that they cannot help but see once they have been made aware of it? The story is a metaphor, not a math problem, and 'walking away' might just as easily encompass any form of sincere and fully committed struggle against injustice: a lonely, often thankless journey, yet one which is no less essential for its difficulty."
- Kurt Schiller, from "Omelas, Je T'aime." Blood Knife, 8 July 2022.
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bunni-v1 · 8 months
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First Years Finding Out Your A Girl?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Mild swearing, STRICTLY Female Reader, Discussion of Jack having a good sniffer (lol)
Info: Headcannons; Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel x Reader (platonic); Mostly for fun
🍓Hi. I'm back... sorta. I didn't have much time to write over the summer, and I honestly don't know how much I can write during school cause my schedule is... yikes. But I picked up something I wrote a while ago, edited it, and decided to post it. I'll be answering whatever's in my ask box right now, and then maybe work on some other stuff.
Ortho & Sebek
Second Years
Third Years
Dorm Leaders
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course, but we’ll get to him).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
FIRST-YEAR SQUAD
Ace
-He’s one of the first ones who find it out, and it’s in the very cliche anime way.
-After some point of knowing you, Ace is so comfortable that he just invites himself into ramshackle. 
-It’s never been an issue or anything. You’re thick as thieves now, you’ve survived death together a handful of times. If you ask Ace, that’s about as close as you can get with someone.
-Normally, you and Grim are just sitting around in the living area, but this time you aren’t. However, he does hear voices coming from your room. His curiosity is peaked.
-So, slippery guy that he is, he sneaks up to your room and his curiosity only grows when he hears a woman’s voice. Prefect getting lucky? And he didn’t tell him? Ace thought you guys were friends.
-He creeps up to your room, slides open your door, and!!! Holy shit it’s you. It’s you in a towel. It’s you and you’ve got tits?!?! 
-His first reaction is to… well… scream.
-“You’re a girl?!?”
“Why are you in my room???”
“You’ve got- boobs!”
 “Get out Ace!”
-Bro sits very politely and very quietly on your couch after that. Deep behind his blank stare, he is seething. You were a girl this whole time, and you didn’t tell him! He thought you guys were friends!
-He definitely fights you about it once you’re down and dressed. He’s just salty, he’ll get over it. 
-Swears up and down he won’t tell anyone.
-Immediately tells Deuce.
-That's it though! Deuce is part of the main quartet, he deserves to know! (You scold him for this too, but you figured it would happen one way or another).
-From him finding out, he doesn’t really treat you differently. You’re still a person, why should he act differently cause you’ve got different body parts than him.
-Though, and he won’t admit this, he’s a bit more… watchful of the others around you. Yeah, you can hold your own and he respects you… but guys like Azul exist, and he’s seen firsthand the torture Azul is capable of. 
Deuce
-As stated before, Ace outs you to Deuce almost immediately after finding out.
-Deuce, in all his awkward glory, completely shuts down. Disconnects from this plane of existence. He cannot believe the news he was just told.
-You, one of his best friends in all of twisted wonderland. You, the person who survived multiple overblots alongside him. You, who have seen him at his most vulnerable… are a girl.
-It isn’t even the fact that you’re a girl, it’s the fact that you kept this a secret from him for so long. You guys are… bros… how could you possibly hide something so important from him. Did you not trust him?
-Yeah… he overthinks things quite a bit.
-He also ambushes you the very next day with a million questions (very loudly (very in public)), to which you calm him down and reassure him that “No, Deuce, I don’t suddenly hate you. I wasn’t hiding it from you maliciously. I was going to tell you at some point, I just hadn’t had a good time to.”
-Deuce’s behavior definitely… changes… in some ways. 
-Deep down he knows you’re a kick-ass bitch and you don’t need to be cared for, but he can’t help but want to. 
-It’s definitely his mommy issues in play here.
-He just becomes more… protective and aware around you. Not in a creepy obsessive way, just in the same way a guard dog would. 
-Like Ace, he’s more than aware of what the people on this campus are capable of, and you’re completely magicless on top of being more feminine. Some guys at NRC would hop on an opportunity like that like nothing.
-He just doesn’t want to see his friends getting hurt okay :(
-It’s like you gained an overprotective older brother who also sometimes barks!
Jack
-Out of everyone, Jack was the first to find out.
-I don’t wanna be the cliche writer but… he’s got a sniffer on him. 
-He definitely could smell that something was up, but he didn’t want to assume! 
-You could be trans, you could be genderfluid, you could be anything other than a woman! It’s not his place to judge, and smell isn’t always the end all be all. You could just really smell feminine and that's how guys come in your world.
-Mr. Respectful would never want to assume anything… but he’s a little curious he won’t lie.
-Jack REALLY found out shortly after Ace, Deuce and Grim got their asses in trouble with Azul. 
-He’d never been given a reason to spend any more than a few minutes around you at a time. However, since he got pulled into this mess, he’s spent a lot more time with you.
-It happened when he was forced to hide under the desk in his office.
-You were so close and you just… smelled like a girl.
-He is so polite and so upstanding, he would NEVER ask you directly. But the suspense of not knowing really does take a number on him.
-By the end of Azul’s overblotting he is so awkward and nervous around you, that you absolutely have to say something.
-At this point, you figured most of the beastmen had an idea of you being feminine, however, you had no real confirmation of that. 
-Jack is such a “let's not bother other people” kind of guy, that you knew he wouldn’t want to say anything to you if you knew… so you decided to take the plunge.
-At the museum, you pull him aside and you have to ask.
_”Jack?”
“Hm?”
“You know, don’t you?”
“…”
“I figured as much. Don’t tell anyone, m’kay? I want to tell my friends on my terms.”
-It makes Jack respect you more than he already did. Not only did you have the confidence to confront him, but you did it calmly and you were understanding of his position.
-And honestly? Not much changes between the two of you.
-He just respects you a little more. He’s not particularly protective around most other students, he talks to you the same, and he doesn’t act like you’re special. You’re just… a friend. 
-The only thing that he may be different about is other beastmen. He does his best to shield you from them if he feels they might be a threat to your well-being. 
Epel
-Epel, being a more feminine-looking man himself… doesn’t think much of you.
-At this point, you’re well acclimated to things at nightraven college, and are very good at being “one of the boys.”
-His ONLY implication is how… differently Rook and Kalim treat you.
-At this point, Kalim has found out via the previous chapter, and Rook knows because of course he does. (We won’t be getting into that today though)
-They both are more… delicate with you? Rook whips out the charm times ten when you’re around. Kalim, although friendly with everyone, seems to be even MORE friendly when you’re around. Like he wants you to like him.
-Even Deuce and Ace have a few… odd tells.
-They both pointedly ensure Jamil is at least five feet away from you at all times. Glare at Rook when he’s a little too charming.
-Other than that, nothing really gives it away.
-Epel is completely and totally in the dark because you’re really good at hiding that you’re a woman.
-He does, however, eventually find out because… Deuce slips up. He’s there giving his big speech on the beach, hyping Epel up, and somehow he manages, “And the prefect is a woman, but she never lets that get in her way!”
-Epel: Shocked, confused, in awe… says nothing. He lets the information ruminate.
-He lets it ruminate for a very long time.
-So long, in fact, that he doesn’t raise his suspicions until the two of you are on a broom heading off to save Vil’s life.
-The silence was killing him, so he had to ask.
-“Prefect, are you a girl?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I couldn’t be sure, I look like a girl too, so you never know.”
“Yes, Epel, I’m a girl.”
“…Cool.”
-Honestly, he’s kind of jealous of you. You passed better than him, and you had to try harder.
-It doesn’t change how he treats you, honestly. He’s not that kind of country bumpkin, but he won’t lie and say he doesn’t have a little resentment held against you.
-He thinks you’re cool as hell, and you help redefine what femininity can look like to him much better than what Vil does.
-He, however, does actively become more protective of you. 
-Not because he thinks you can’t fend for yourself, but because he kinda wants to show off a little.
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reiderwriter · 8 months
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More Than Words
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader
Requested: yes
Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.
Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.
A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.
You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!
Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”
It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.
“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.
“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.
“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.
“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”
“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”
You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.
“Promise you won’t tell?”
“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.
“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.
“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”
“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.
“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”
“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.
“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.
“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.
–X–
Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.
At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.
“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.
“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.
“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.
“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”
“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.
“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.
“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”
“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”
“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.
“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.
“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.
“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.
“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”
“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.
“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.
“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”
With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.
“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”
–X–
The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.
“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.
“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.
“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”
“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.
“What was our first date?” He asked.
“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”
“What else have we done together?”
“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”
“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.
You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.
“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”
He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.
“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.
“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.
“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”
“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.
You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.
But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.
“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.
The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.
“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”
“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.
“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”
“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”
“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.
“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”
“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.
“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.
“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.
“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.
“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”
Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.
“Mom, how did you know…”
“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,
“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.
–X–
The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.
Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.
What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?
So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.
“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.
You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.
“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.
“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.
You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.
“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.
“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.
He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”
“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.
An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.
“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.
“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.
“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.
“I don’t pick my nails!”
“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.
“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”
“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”
“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.
“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.
“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.
“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”
“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”
“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.
“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”
“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”
“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.
“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”
“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”
“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.
“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”
“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.
“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.
“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.
“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.
“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”
“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”
“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.
–X–
“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.
“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.
“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.
“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.
You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.
“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.
“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”
You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.
“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.
“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.
“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.
“Spence, what’s wrong?”
“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”
“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.
“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.
“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.
“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.
“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.
“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.
“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.
“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.
“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.
–X–
You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.
To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.
“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.
“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.
“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.
“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.
“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.
“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.
“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.
His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.
“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”
“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.
–X–
The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.
You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.
So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.
You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.
You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.
You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.
“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.
“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.
“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.
“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.
“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.
“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.
“How’d you figure it out?”
“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”
“Three.”
“Three what?”
“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.
“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.
“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”
“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”
“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”
You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.
“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.
You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.
“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.
“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.
“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.
You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.
“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.
“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”
Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.
“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.
“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.
“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.
“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.
“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.
“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”
“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.
“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.
“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.
“Yes?”
“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.
But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.
“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.
“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.
He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.
“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.
“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.
He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.
“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.
“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.
“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.
It never did.
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bettsfic · 2 years
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today is my birthday! i’m 33 today and i have done an ungodly amount of stupid shit in my life that honestly probably should have gotten me killed. so here are 33 hard-won things i’ve learned that i wish someone had told me sooner.
whenever you buy an object, you are going to own that object for your entire life unless you make the conscious decision to throw it away or give it a new home. maybe other people don’t struggle with this as much as i do, but i’ve grown to become a little exhausted by finding a thing and realizing i don’t want it anymore, but i don’t have the energy or motivation to do anything with it. signed, a woman with a packed 10x10 storage unit who is now extremely hesitant to buy new things.
food, and by that i mean good food (and by that i don’t necessarily mean healthy food, but food of good quality that you love), is necessary to live, and buying it, preparing it, and eating it is not a chore. the sooner you accept this and make food a priority in your life, the healthier you’ll be. 
speaking of food, not everything you buy should be the cheapest version of it. personally i’ve found it’s always worth it to splurge on good olive oil, butter, and canned tomatoes. for years i thought i was an awful cook because i was cooking with cheap, disgusting olive oil that made my food taste like shit.
speaking of food part 2, i can’t BELIEVE how long this took me to figure out, but mise en place is the real real. get your shit out and organized and prepped *before* you start cooking, even if it makes things take longer. and yes, it is always worth it to do the dishes as you go, which pisses me off.
when i was teaching myself how to cook and feeling daunted about it, the best advice i ever got was to aim to learn 15 recipes and then put them in rotation.
this is the most horrific and awful truth i have forced myself to accept: there may come a day you can no longer digest your favorite foods, and you will either have to stop eating them, or remain very close to a toilet. i’m sorry.
other people are always going to misperceive you and misunderstand you, sometimes willfully. other people’s opinions of you don’t actually have anything to do with you. they’re not your business, and you don’t have to worry about it or change yourself.
when innocuous or neutral things make you irrationally angry or upset, step back, realize you’re having a big reaction, and then when you’re ready, pay very close attention to the thing that upset you, because you’re about to learn something important about yourself.
a pill sorter can save your life. i don’t know how i managed my meds without one.
sometimes college is about learning stuff, and not about becoming something.
no matter how many perfectionist tendencies you have, it’s worth it to remind yourself that no matter how much of a mess you actually are, you deserve to be loved.
if you’re always forgetting to do important but tedious things, set an alarm and set aside one hour of each week, not to do the important tedious things, but to assess what needs to be done, and *schedule* the important tedious things for the following week. this literally changed my life.
during that hour, make a meal plan too. the point of doing this is condense the time in which you’re making decisions (what to do, what to eat, etc) so you don’t have to burden yourself with them throughout the week. decision fatigue is real. any way you can alleviate that is a good thing.
learn the difference between aggressive, passive, passive-aggressive, and assertive behavior. recognize when you’re being one of the first three, re-assess and aim for being assertive, even if it’s hard.
you can tell you’ve processed trauma, not when the traumatic thing stops upsetting you to think about, but when the traumatic thing takes up the same size in your brain as all your other memories.
if you’re one of those people who never seems to finish projects or follow through with things, there’s a chance you may just grow out of it naturally. until then, follow your interests and don’t feel bad about putting down a hobby to pick up another.
if you love stickers but have sticker anxiety, buy vinyl stickers. you can re-stick them.
there are only a few careers i can think of that you have to commit to early in life because getting the undergraduate credentials is a pain in the ass (teachers, doctors, and engineers, from my research). nearly everything else you can switch to later, which takes a LOT of pressure off having to figure out what you want to do with your life.
people say there’s no money in becoming an artist, writer, musician, etc. actually there’s a ton of money in all of those things, it’s just in the stuff other people want you to make and never what you want to make. it’s still worth it to develop the creative skill and not force yourself into business school because it’s more “practical” or whatever. 
sleep when you’re tired. SLEEP WHEN YOU’RE TIRED. don’t beat yourself up about it, don’t tell yourself you shouldn’t be tired or that you’ve already slept too much, just take a fucking nap. you would never say “hm i’ve already had enough water today, therefore i should not be thirsty” so don’t treat sleep the same way.
when you build a piece of furniture from target or ikea or whatever, the first thing you should do is count all the little screws and things to make sure everything’s there that should be. it sucks to get halfway into putting something together only to find there’s a piece missing and you have to go buy it.
learn to travel by yourself, go out to eat by yourself, see a movie by yourself. in my early 20s i was scared to do these things, but i do them so often now i don’t even think about it. it’s the most fulfilling skill i’ve ever learned.
adding to the above, if you’re a people-pleaser, being alone is especially important, because you’ve probably developed the habit of making the people you’re with more comfortable and happy than yourself, and you’re missing a lot of the beautiful and interesting things around you. when you’re by yourself, you can focus on what *you* want without guilt. 
sometimes you’ll want to break things off with a friend for reasons that are no one’s fault, and you don’t want it to be volatile or make a big thing of it, in which case the goal is to simply fade out of their life. it is okay to let people go.
shame is useless. get rid of it.
no matter how much of yourself you put into your art (or writing, or music, or whatever), when people criticize it, they are not criticizing you. they are having a reaction colored by their own tastes and perspectives. their opinion of your work has nothing to do with you. you don’t have to take everyone’s feedback. in fact you don’t have to take anyone’s feedback. the other side to this coin unfortunately is that compliments don’t have anything to do with you either. it’s good to accept this because it means you’ll stop seeking validation from other people and won’t let anyone else’s perspectives impact your work. anything nice anyone says about your work is merely a bonus to an already good thing.
if you’re an artist of any kind, take one day a year to look up opportunities like grants, funding, residencies, workshops, whatever. put the due dates of all of them on a calendar for the year following and get into the habit of applying for stuff. getting rejected sucks, application fees suck, but in all the years i’ve been doing this, it has always, always been worth it. these things give you a chance not only to help fund and support what you’re passionate about, but they force you to take your own work seriously, and that is something that’s absolutely necessary in order to be successful.
you must become your own greatest advocate. in all respects--in health, in love, in happiness, in freedom, you must. no one will ever fight as hard for you as you will. this in turn will give you the strength and motivation to help others fight for themselves too. the only way the world will ever get better is if every person on this planet learns to see themselves as equals to everyone around them.
brag about yourself as often as you can. for one, people develop their perceptions of you based on how you treat yourself and speak about yourself. but for two, it’s the fastest way to figure out which people to keep in your life, because they’re the ones who are going “oh hell yeah, you’re awesome.” 
be the person other people want to brag to.
at some point in your life, someone is going to hurt you, and it’s going to be willful and intentional. it is not worth it to waste brain space figuring out why they did it or why you think you deserved it. all you have to do is let yourself feel that pain, acknowledge it, and try to move on.
no matter how bad off you think you are, recovery is possible. the first and hardest step is to learn you’re worth the time and effort it takes to recover from the awful things that have happened to you.
developing an expertise does not mean you’re getting objectively better at something. becoming an expert is only the process of seeing your mistakes and having the patience to sit in the discomfort of not knowing how to fix them.    
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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
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defending you (nsfw version)
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i somehow forgot this fic when i was reuploading all the ones from my old blog. fun fact: this is the first rafe fic i ever wrote! and i actually wrote two different versions. this is the established relationship and smut version, here is the sfw version!
words: 3.9k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, bullying?, violence, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, daddy kink, fingering, female receiving oral,
taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450
“rafe!” you yell, relieved to see him standing out on his dock, sorting through something in a box. you swim closer, the final stretch of the long distance somehow seeming like miles.
“rafe!” you yell again, waiting for him to hear, but you know the sound of the whipping wind is carrying your voice in the opposite direction.
rafe straightens up, and turns back towards tanneyhill. “rafe!” you’re yelling desperately at this point. he finally turns, having heard what he thought was his name. he scans the dock quickly, thinking he’s going crazy hearing things, and then he sees you wave at him frantically from in the water.
“y/n?” rafe screams, his face going pale seeing you swimming towards the dock.
“rafe.” you smile, received to finally be done with your long swim. 
“what are you doing?” rafe rushes towards the ladder as you begin to climb up, legs and arms weak. “the water is freezing and there’s a storm coming in.”
“i know.” you shiver as you pull yourself onto the dock, with help from rafe. you can’t even stand as your legs crumble. “i was paddleboarding before the storm came and someone came and knocked me off my board and took it and my paddle. i swam here because it was closest.”
you’ve never formally labeled your relationship with rafe, not beyond him calling you ‘my girl’, but everyone on the island knows you’re an item. 
it all started with your friendship with sarah. you’re not rich enough to be a kook, but not poor enough to be a pogue, leaving you in a weird middle ground that you’ve grown to love, getting accepted into both groups' parties. you became friends with sarah pretty quickly when you both agreed that the silly feud between the two sides of the island has gotten too extreme.
whenever you would sleep over with sarah, or even just head out to surf or get ice cream, rafe would find some sort of way to be involved, much to sarah’s annoyance and your joy.
it wasn’t until you and sarah began to grow apart that rafe made his move. he kissed you one night at a party and ever since then, it’s been the two of you against the world. you still get along with sarah, but it’s different now that you’re with her brother.
“who took your board?” rafe eyes flash with anger, the kind all the pogues tell you he’s capable of, but that you haven’t seen for yourself. you know rafe hides his bad parts from you, but you’ve heard whisperings from people about the best place to score on the island, and that his rage can get out of control.
“kelce’s friend. i don’t know his name. that blonde guy.”
“topper?” rafe questions, knowing it can’t be him, but can’t think of any other guy you might be referring to.
“no, no. that new guy. family just moved into that blue house.”
“luke?” rafe practically spits his name out.
“yeah, him.” you nod, a shiver racking through your body. the water was the coldest you’ve ever felt it in obx, but thankfully your hard swimming kept you from being too cold. it’s only now, on the dock with the harsh wind, that you feel the real chill.
“hold on, let me get you a towel.” rafe curses himself for not getting you one quicker. he runs to the nearest boat, flipping open a seat and grabbing the fluffiest, warmest towel he sees.
rafe helps you stand now that you’ve got some feeling back in your legs. he wraps the towel tightly around you, pulling you into his arms to warm you up even more.
“what kind of boat was he driving?” rafe asks
you don’t want to talk, or think, just want to lay your head against rafe’s chest and soak up his warmth, but you’re eventually able to mutter out, “a black speedboat. i don’t know more than that, it all happened so fast.” truth was, you knew it was an expensive brand, just way beyond anything your family would be able to afford, so you had no clue what it was.
“and he just came and knocked you off?” rafe curses himself as soon as he says it, because it sounds like he doesn’t believe you, but really he just wants to get the story straight before he beats this guy to a pulp.
“yeah.” you sniffle. “he made a huge wake on purpose that made me fall off, and then he just grabbed my board and paddle before i could get back on.”
“y/n?” you hear your name being called and turn to look down the dock at ward and rose, concern etched over their features. you got along decent well with them, being invited to some family dinners with rafe, but there was still a bit of awkwardness, you being the first longterm girlfriend that rafe has ever had.
“hi, sir.” you say as he walks closer, stepping out of rafe’s arms.
“don’t tell me you were swimming in this weather.” ward says. it is unseasonably cold in the outer banks, and the wind is picking up every second with dark clouds on the horizon.
“not intentionally.” you shake your head. "someone knocked me off my paddleboard and they took it. i swam here because it was closest."
ward looks at his son, and rafe gives a stern nod, a silent conversation happening that you’re not privy to.
“i’m gonna go get your board back for you, y/n.” rafe says, effortlessly snatching the boat keys out of the air that his father tosses to him.
“rafe, i don’t expect you to do that. plus the storm-” your worried expression is snatched off of your face with a quick kiss from rafe.
“we look out for own here, yeah?” rafe says, hand coming to your face and pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.
“thank you.” you say with a tight swallow of your throat, worried about rafe in this weather, but knowing that there’s no stopping him.
“i’ll be back soon, you go inside and warm up, okay?” rafe says, stepping back towards the boat. you nod, a tight feeling twisting in your stomach as you watch rafe going to defend you, going to get back what’s yours. he especially knows what that paddleboard means to you, having bought it for you himself. you had one from your parents, but it was a few years old and worn from how much you use it.
“come on, y/n.” rose says, placing a hand on your back as you walk up the dock to the house.
“thank you so much.” you say as you reach the kitchen, rose handing you a glass of water.
“no problem at all, you know you’re always welcome here.” ward says, and you almost blush at the approval of rafe’s father. you’ve always tried hard to get on his good side, being almost overly polite and helping out whenever needed, but what really won rose and ward over was rose going to your mothers hair salon. it’s the best on the island and your mom gives her extra product since you’re with her stepson.
“are you okay? can i get you anything else?” rose asks you.
“no, thank you so much. i might just go hop in the shower and wait for rafe to come back in his room, if you don’t mind?” you give the best pleading puppy dog eyes you can to ward, and he nods after only a second of hesitation. he doesn’t like you being in rafes room, and usually makes you hang out in common areas, which lead to a lot of interrupted cuddling or makeout sessions.
it’s not like ward is completely unaware what you two get up to, he even one time bought rafe a pack of condoms and attempted to have a safe sex conversation with him, much to rafe’s dismay, which he later recanted to you, before pouting that you were giggling at him, but made up for it by putting one of those condoms to good use.
“thank you again for helping me, i was so scared out there all alone.” 
“go before i change my mind.” ward says. you give a flash of a smile before speed walking towards rafe’s room, a path you know by heart. you undress in his attached bathroom, leaving your wet clothes on the floor.
you take a deep sigh of relief at the warm water, but you don’t want to spend too long in there, anxiously awaiting rafes arrival back. you use his soap, the one that leaves a scent on his skin that you’re obsessed with, but forgo trying to control your hair, opting to put it up in a bun with the hair ties he leaves in his bathroom cabinet for you.
you end up grabbing clothes from rafes closet, even though you know sarah won’t mind if you borrow some of hers, putting on one of the few casual tshirts rafe has, as well as his boxers in favor of actual bottoms.
you’ve warmed up a lot, but there’s still a chill in your bones, so you slide under the covers, flipping on the tv, missing your phone at this moment which is sitting at home, waiting for you to return from your paddleboarding trip.
you’re about to drift off when the door suddenly opens.
“rafe.” you breath out, hopping out of the bed to go to him. he’s soaking wet from the rain that came in with the storm, but he’s got a proud gleam in his eye.
“i got your board back.” rafe says. “and that asshole won’t mess with you anymore.”
you gulp, hoping that just means rafe gave him a stern talking to, but as you look down at his knuckles, you can tell it’s not true.
“rafe!” you gasp, grabbing his hand and lifting it up. his knuckles are red and looked bruised.
“it’s alright, baby.” rafe says, stepping into the room and closing and locking the door behind him. “i just punched him once so he would know not to mess with you again. i know you don’t like violence, but he needed to learn his lesson not to mess with you.”
you pout, but nod in agreement. you certainly wouldn’t want any other girls, or anyone at all for that matter, to fall victim to the same ‘prank’ he did to you. 
“thank you so much.” you place your hands on rafes neck and bring his head down so you can kiss him, having to get up on your tippy toes to do so.
“anything for you baby, you know how much i love you.” but you don’t, and you freeze at the words.
“what, you don’t love me back?” rafe teases, acting like he didn’t just drop something so huge for the first time in your relationship.
“of course i love you, rafey, i just didn’t expect you to say it.” you blush, ducking your head. you’ve actually thought over the past couple months about your time with rafe, how safe and loved he made you feel. it came naturally to you, loving him.
rafe ducks down for a strong kiss, leaving you breathless when he pulls away and strides towards the bathroom. “gonna shower quickly princess, you get back in bed.”
“okay.” you say shyly, suddenly nervous. you get back under the covers, thankful for the thick comforter wrapping you in warmth. your eyes return to the tv, and you don’t even realize that you’ve started to drift off until you’re suddenly awoken by the bathroom door opening and shutting and rafe stepping out in just a towel wrapped around his waist.
“oh, i’m sorry baby, i didn’t mean to wake you.” rafe says, seeing the sleep in your eyes and how desperately you need it.
“it’s okay.” you sit up, only for rafe to gently push your shoulder back into bed. he climbs in next to you, leaving the towel around his waist much to your disappointment.
“but i have to thank you for getting my board back.” you pout as rafe wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest.
“you can thank me once you’ve rested.” rafe says, stretching to turn the lamp next to the bed off. he also turns down the tv, but leaves it on.
“mmkay.” you really don’t have it within you to argue. you lay your head against rafe’s chest and snuggle close, a shiver wracking through your body.
“are you still cold?” rafe’s body tenses under you.
“i think the effects are still wearing off, im okay though, promise.” you really don’t want rafe to leave to go punch luke again, so calming him down is your best bet.
“i got something that can warm you up, princess.” rafe says, hands suddenly finding your hips. his fingers skim underneath his boxers that you’re wearing, and you can’t help but let out a soft moan, knowing there’s no way ward or rose can hear you from the opposite wing of the house, and with the rain now battering against the windows.
“off, please.” rafe says, tugging them down. you help maneuver until you’re left in just his shirt.
rafe tugs you so you’re half on top of him, one leg slinged over his hips. his hands find your pussy instantly, pleased that your wetness is already growing.
“my pretty girl needs daddy, right?” rafe says, using the nickname for himself that has you biting your lip, feeling your nipples harden against his chest.
rafe laughs gently, fingers sweeping up and down the outsides of your folds, not moving closer like you want him to. he only teases for a minute before he presses his finger against your hole. you instantly relax at the familiar feeling, letting him shove his long and slender finger inside of you.
you’re able to get just enough angle to grind your clit into the towel, making his finger thrust in and out even easier. you let out a mewl as a second one presses against your entrance.
“you can take it, baby.” rafe says, causing you to shake your head. usually rafe gives you a lot of time to warm up before he even tries to finger or fuck you, knowing how much it helps you loosen up.
“you can.” rafe says, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “you wanna know how i know you can? because you’re my good little girl, and you’d never disappoint me. so you’re gonna take both my fingers, and then you’re gonna take my cock, alright?”
you stay silent as his second finger enters you, it only burns for a split second before the pleasure returns.
“answer me.” rafe says softly, knowing better than to be too rough with you considering what you just went through.
“gonna take your cock.” you nod. “gonna be good for you.” you lift your head off of his chest to kiss along his jaw, nipping at it with a giggle when he clenches it as you grind your hips just right to press against his cock, already completely hard under the towel.
rafe drags his fingers out, somewhat reluctantly as he already misses feeling you clenching around him, but is brought relief knowing his cock will be next. he pulls the towel to the side, letting himself spring free and rub against your bare pussy.
“do you trust me?” rafe whispers, not making any move to reach for a condom.
“of course.” you say, kissing the side of his mouth, “i love you.”
rafe slides his fingers up to your clit, rubbing it gently as he presses his cock against your entrance. you sink down onto him, eyes squeezing tightly closed as the pleasure takes over.
“good girl. almost all the way in.” rafe says, helping push your hips down until you’re fully rested on his cock. you lay your head back down on his chest, letting yourself breathe as you wait for rafe to begin to snap his hips up into you, or for his hands to tap your hips, signaling you to move.
it doesn’t come, and eventually you begin to rock, wondering if rafe was letting you take control.
“no, no, shhh.” rafe says, holding your hips down. “let me just warm you up from the inside baby, you go back to sleep. when you wake up i’ll put a condom on and fuck you like you deserve.”
you realize as he speaks that you are now completely warmed up, his cock bringing you to the perfect temperature.
“you sure, baby?” you ask, hoping he says yes, loving the thought of sleeping together, joined in the most intimate way.
“of course i’m sure. you keep my cock nice and warm in that sweet pussy and i’ll keep you warm in my arms.” 
“thank you.” you turn your head to kiss his chest. “i love you so much.”
“love you too. now close those beautiful eyes and get some rest. i know you’re tired.”
rafe is right, as soon as you stop fighting the sleep, you’re out like a light.
you’re not sure how long you sleep before a loud clap of thunder wakes you up. you lift your head, the only light in the room being from the tv, still on, now muted. 
you circle your hips, smiling at feeling rafe’s cock still deep inside you. “mmm, that feels good baby.” rafe says, also waking up from the storm.
“can you fuck me now?” you ask, almost politely. it makes rafe smile, thinking about what a good girl you are.
“i thought you said you wanted to thank me? don’t you wanna ride me?”
you nod quickly, glad to have a chance to be in charge. usually rafe is the one on top, not liking to be out of control, so you start moving before he has a chance to rethink.
you sit up, his cock hitting a whole different angle as your position changes.
“wait.” rafe places a hand on your hip. “let me put a condom on first.”
“it’s okay.” you say quietly, not sure if rafe feels the same way. “i’m on birth control and i’ll take a plan b tomorrow. you’re doing such a good job warming me up i want your cum warming my insides up too.”
this sends rafe into a spiral, the thoughts of flooding your insides, of marking you as his. even though he knows its too early, he thinks about the future where he gets to cum inside you with no birth control or plan b taken the next morning, seeing your tummy swell up, marking you as his.
his plants his feet on the bed and begins to fuck up into you, his hands lifting you up and down in pace with his thrusts. you place your hands on his chest to try to keep yourself stable, not regretting your words even though it now means you don’t get the control you were secretly excited for.
“you want me to fill you, huh, my perfect slut?” rafe asks, rubbing one hand aggressively over your clit.
“yes, rafe.” you whine, grinding into his thumb. his cock is throbbing inside you, and you know neither of you are going to last much longer, considering he’s been inside you for at least a couple hours.
rafe flips you suddenly, not wanting his little princess to have to do any more work than you need to. 
“so good rafey.” you whine, his cock hitting your sweet spot every time, making you see stars. 
your head picks up suddenly when his dick leaves you, making tears instantly fall from your eyes at the loss.
“it’s okay, baby, don’t cry.” rafe kisses the tears away quickly, before pressing one to your lips. “i just need to taste your pretty pussy before i cum all inside it.” 
rafe slinks down the bed, and you watch him with wide eyes. rafe will give you head sometimes, but he much prefers getting right into the action and fucking you, feeling no better joy than when you’re joined together.
rafe lays between your legs, adjusting his erection so he doesn’t cum on the bed from pressing against it. you spread your legs for him, giving him a shy smile as his eyes find yours.
“keep them open. look at me. watch the man who loves you kiss your pretty little pussy.” rafe’s words make you want to flutter your eyes close, to toss your head back, but you fight that instinct to keep looking at him.
rafe leans forward, licking from your dripping entrance all the way up to your clit. you moan as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking it harshly, wanting to get you as close as possible to cumming, because he knows once he’s inside of you again, he’s only lasting a couple thrusts.
he switches between tonguing at your clit and sucking on it, trying his best to keep you on your toes, not knowing what sensation to prepare for. he swipes his tongue down ever few moments, tasting your wetness like golden honey on his tongue.
“taste so sweet, princess.” rafe says, making an embarrassing slurping noise that has you momentarily covering your face with your hands, before remembering rafe’s order to keep your eyes on him. “gotta eat you out more often, my favorite little meal.”
your hands move to rafes hair, dragging him back up to your clit. rafe flattens his tongue against it, letting your hips move and grind just how you like it against his tongue.
“fuck baby.” rafe has to rip his head away as he feels your clit start to throb, signaling how close you are.
“need you rafey.” you whine. he moves quickly to your pleads, his cock reentering you quickly, hips thrusting wildly. he places the palm of his hand against your clit, grinding it down.
“fuck, baby, so good.” you whine. “so close rafey.” 
“me too, princess.” rafe says with a grunt, his voice gruffer than you’ve ever heard it. “gonna fill this pretty pussy up. my favorite little kitty. gonna breed you. you want my kids one day, huh?”
“yes, rafe, want your babies.” you cry out as you can’t hold back any longer, your orgasm washing over you like the waves outside hitting the shore. the tightening of your pussy around his cock has rafe cumming instantly, spurting thick ropes of white inside of you. 
he collapses down as the last few drops of cum are squeezed out of him by your pulsating pussy.
neither of you say anything for a few minutes, rafe just rolls you over so you’re on top of him, his cock still deep inside you, plugging you from letting any cum drip out.
rafe begins to slowly pull out, but your hips follow him. “please stay inside me until morning.” you pout.
“you want me in you all night?” rafe says, pushing some of your hair off your face that’s sticking to your sweat. 
you nod, tiredly blinking at him as sleep begins to overtake your body again. rafe smiles gently. “of course i’ll stay inside you.”
“thank you.” you whisper, kissing along his cheek, until you reach his mouth. your lips slide against each other, and you resist the urge to squeeze your pussy around him for a round 2, knowing how tired he must be from the sudden burst of energy.
you’ve never slept calmer than you have with rafe filling the missing pieces inside of you.
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ma1dita · 3 months
Text
partners in crime
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luke castellan x fem!dionysus!reader [the trouble!verse]
MAIN SERIES MASTERPOST
summary: few things are certain in this life as a demigod, but one thing is for sure— you can’t fight fate when it pulls you and luke castellan together, over and over again. two young people who hate the gods are more like them than they think, for better or worse. annoyances to best friends to lovers
things to know: dionysus!reader's nickname is trouble & most of these can be read as standalones!
here's a playlist (spotify & apple music links now available!)
child of dionysus headcanons!
trouble!verse moodboard 1 & moodboard 2 & college!trouble by the lovely @24kmar
deleted scenes from a different universe (AUs)
play the extended cuts (blurbs from in-between)
character study: luke castellan & trouble
any works, updates, thoughts, musings, etc about this series will be tagged under #trouble!verse !
key: fluff - ☼ angst - ☽ smut - ☆ jo's favorites - ᥫ᭡
[rewind to before] pre-established relationship
trouble always finds me (trouble!reader origin story) 1.7k ☼
The one where he could tell you were trouble from the day he met you. (You're an annoyance, but not an enemy)
entropy ☼
The one where you both blur the lines between annoyance and admiration. (the promise of becoming partners in crime)
buddy system 4.2k ☼
The one where he comes with you to rescue your younger twin brothers, Pollux & Castor. (this is as close to a real quest that Mr. D will give you--might as well take someone you trust!)
somebody's angel 4.4k ☽
The one where you convince him he’s pretty, even with a scar. (songfic - Die Alone - Finneas)
feed the fire 1.2k ☼
The one where his focus is not on spilled food, but on you. (Luke realizes this is more than playful banter)
bedtime stories 2.4k ☼
The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don’t mind at all. (the both of you have feelings you want to admit, but duty calls!)
crazy little thing 3.4k ☼
The one where he uses all his drachmas to make you smile on Valentine's Day. (the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite, sometimes)
anything you want 1.6k ☼
The one where you and him have your first kiss. (You've always loved teaching the story of Orpheus and Eurydice; except when your Orpheus runs away from you)
said he likes crazy 2.1k ☼ ☽
The one where only he can help you with a bad day, even if he's avoided you since your first kiss. (For being a son of Hermes, he has a way of calming your nerves)
[pause and remember us like this] established relationship
play pretend 5.1k ☼
The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren’t exactly together yet. (Drunk words are sober thoughts. Your dad just wishes Luke told you instead of him)
a wish your heart makes 1.4k ☼ ☽
The one where you share dreams, burn cookies, and it still reminds him of home. (The dryads will probably ban you from the kitchen after this)
chance encounters ☼
The one where you both daydream about different lives. (You think you'd find him anywhere, by soul alone)
to see the chaos through ☽
The one where he remembers he was never a good guy, just yours. (Luke makes the ultimate deal with the devil in order to save you)
not your goddess ☽
The one where you both know the best of days eventually have to come to an end. (songfic - Goddess - Laufey)
don't blame the kids ☼
The one where you both chaperone a trip to Mount Olympus. (the Olympians are bigger gossips than you thought they'd be)
trouble's coming for you 3.7k ☼
The one where Percy meets his two favorite counselors at Camp Half-Blood. (three times Percy is oblivious (and in the way) and the time he realizes you and Luke are in love)
now that we're older 3.5k ☼
The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. (Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl)
if you need to be mean (be mean to me) 1.5k☽
The one where he leaves before you wake up. (songfic - I Don't Smoke - Mitski )
[fast forward until we meet again] post-tlt
lovers, or partners in crime 2.1k ☽
The one where Annabeth and Percy think you’re guilty too. (the last day leading up to Luke's betrayal)
love like a blister: the five stages of loving losing luke 4.7k ☽
The one where you learn to mourn someone even if they’re still alive. (the five stages of grief after facing a loss)
to catch a thief 3.7k ☼ ☽
The one where duty calls at Camp Half-Blood. Again. (Your reunion with Luke isn't quite what you expected.)
solipsism 5.3k ☽
The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. (the four times Luke uses Backbiter to visit you during college ft. the first time you trust a god to help you)
angel with a broken wing ☼ ☽
The one where he falls from grace and still thinks of you. (the four women Luke Castellan risked it for and how it will end up killing him)
love me dry (LATEST ADD) 4.5k ☼ ☽
The one where he meets you at his mother's house, though both of you didn't expect the other to be there. (a glimpse into May Castellan's idea of a perfect day)
when the curtains close☽
The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Annabeth and Pollux find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.)
asking for trouble ☽
The one where Luke's final wish is to see you. (He's himself again, and all he wants is to find out if the trouble was worth it all)
as above, so below ☽ ☼
The one where you plead your case with the gods of Olympus. (The one thing the fates didn't expect was how much you'd both be like your fathers; in a way, you and Luke didn't see it coming either)
ask to be added to luke/general taglist 🥹
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itsyaniwym · 3 months
Text
‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Astrology Observations II ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊
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✺ Pisces Mars are experts at ghosting. You guys take action in such an elusive way because you hate confrontation, or just unnecessary drama. If y’all are annoyed or feeling a way about something you don’t say anything right away and you only react when things boil over into the point where you can’t control it anymore and you explode. Then you immediately bad for getting so angry. Just work on communicating how you feel, when you feel it, sometimes other people won’t know how you feel until you express it.
✺ Mars in the 1st house synastry isn’t always as sexy and hot as people think it is. The mars person’s attraction could be so strong for the house that they come off too strong which can completely turn off the house person. (If there isn’t any other compatible synastry)
✺ The sign in your second house is usually the sign, or ones with those placements, that you feel the most possessive over.
✺ Also, the second house can explain your appetite and how you like to eat. For example, Sag risings having Capricorn in the 2nd house prefer home cooked meals over fast food. They are very strict as to what they put in their body and they won't eat just anybody's food.
✺ As of the other hand, Scorpio risings having Sag in the 2nd house go from extremes where they are either eating really healthy or just absolutely terrible. They love fast food and can tend to over indulge in these pleasures.
✺ In my opinion, 4th house synastry feels more like family or a really close friend than anything romantic (mostly just Sun and Moon) It feels almost weird to cross that line, like if you do things would turn awkward. OR if it is a romantic connection the planet person may have more feelings than the house person does.
✺ I will stand by this but 6th house synastry is SOOOO underrated!!! If you are looking for a long-term relationship with someone having personal planets here will really help the relationship last. Especially when Sun is there it’s almost like there is a never a dull moment and each and every day you guys are never get bored of one another. Venus here it’s like you guys find pleasure doing the small things together the most. You would even be happy doing things like grocery shopping with them, stopping by at your job to give you flowers, and makes living together very easy. Mars in ones 6th house is sending them to do things, and them not minding at all, they love to make you happy by doing things for you.
I do feel like moon in 6th house synastry would be a bit aggravating. Feeling like the person would rather intellectualize and nitpick your emotions rather than being the one to help you feel them. Almost feels as if you are being judged for any emotion you show. It might be annoying feeling like someone is constantly questioning you about how they feel or feeling like you constantly have to take on the baggage of what the other person is going through.
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✺ It’s not said enough but Capricorn placements, especially mercury and Sun, are the most hilarious people ever. Their dry sense of humor and how sarcastic they are is UNMATCHED. They will say the things that other people are scared to say and you can’t help but to laugh. They have that dark humor that no other sign can replicate. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea but they are so real!
✺ Pisces Mars and Pisces rising’s are the ones who are attracted to people that u would least expect them to be with. Or they are attracted to the “bad boy” or the one people tell them to stay away from
✺ Sag rising don’t age! No matter how old they are they have this glow about them and always look so youthful.
✺ Aquarius and Sag Venus’ really don’t have a type. They just love someone who makes them happy and they can go adventures with . These people are attracted to cerebral people and anyone who can really expand their mind. You often hear these people say “I like who I like” or “I just love, love”. This could change if there is some Capricorn energy in the chart which could make someone value a more traditional approach to this fun loving placement.
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‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Thank you guys for making it to the end of my post! ♥️if you have any experience with any of these placements/synastry above please comment down below your experience! I would love to hear you guys’ feed back. Please keep in mind these are just my personal opinions take everything with a grain of salt. Love youusss💋 ♡
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kombuuuu · 10 months
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Omg I just saw that u write for atsv!! So I was wondering if u could do one with a female reader x hobie where the readers quite reserved to everyone in public (maybe she’d been a spidey longer so she’s lost more people? Idk why she’d be reserved bc I cannot write for shot lmao) and people think she’s super cold but then they like?? Walk in, and she’s like open and warm with Hobie (it doesn’t matter if she’s loud or not) and they kinda just look at the scene in shock like wtf and Pav is sort of smug bc he knew all along and then it comes out that they’re dating?
It Sounds Nice coming from You.
Hobie Brown x Fem!Spidey Reader
“I totally called it.” “Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”
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kisses him cause he my bf (-compulsive liar)
People whispered about you. Spider people and the general public alike. Your city spreading gossip, rumours and misinformation to try and figure out who you were, but that was a Spiderwoman affair, every one of them dealt with it.
But having people same as you talk in hushed tones, glancing at you as you walked past. That’s a new kind of feeling.
The Spider Society didn’t exactly favour you, per se. There was nothing inherently wrong with you either, so no reason to get rid of you. But you were just so silent. No one knew a thing about you.
You mostly kept to yourself around base, never really trying too hard to make friends, you were well known enough not to be questioned. A loyal fighter was what you were recognised for, not your personality, your abilities.
There were still some people that managed to creep their way in though, their hearts so full of love, you didn’t know how to refuse them.
So you conceded. You let them in, and begged to any deity that would listen not to take them from you.
Hobie knew you as someone who could listen. Who understood him rather than challenged his beliefs. Not that he had any, but that was the point.
Your lack of input made him feel accepted in going on tangents of why he thought the way he did. And you just sat, and listened. A kind heart and an open mind.
Which eventually led to him falling for that kind heart. Tripping over his own feet to please your silent self. To get those small smiles or amused huffs out of you.
The occasional time you spoke to him, under hushed breaths and fond tones. God, he couldn’t take it.
The way your accent forms over each and every word, how your voice was akin to honey malt, sweet and addicting. Only giving him small doses, but he was the only one who got those doses. Only him, and you, and the words you spoke or times you listened.
He knows that people thought you were cold, or unloving. And maybe you were at first, maybe he thought you were. But he figured you out fast. Where you couldn’t talk, you could touch. Brushing your hands over his arm to get his attention. Linking your hand through his and dragging him away from people you don’t want to be near, he would smile down at you and follow along like a lost puppy. How your brows would crease a certain way, or nose would scrunch a little when you found distaste in things. He was a fool for you.
Where you lacked in verbal communication, you strived in every other category. So when some Spider-people decided to come to him, urging him for answers about you.
Telling him that he wasn’t sure you even wanted to be here—, Hobie would shut down the conversation quicker than thought to be possible. Giving a simple “She’s just quiet.”, and ditching the moment the words are out of his mouth.
It’d worked—, for a while. Ignoring the demeaning or conspiratorial comments made about you by spider-people a-kind. But eventually it got the better of him. Having him borderline snarl at the people who would talk shit right in front of his, or your, face.
“She’s silent, ain’t she?”
“Yeah. Peter 48 said she was like that ‘cause she killed her parents, made ‘er real quiet.”
“Jesus christ. Wouldn’t surprise me, she’s a freak.”
“Dude—“ One of the two spiders, the first one, turned to Hobie. Spider-senses ringing. Hobie stated back at them, deadpan and unblinking. “Don’t.”
The younger spider paled, quickly trying to backtrack.
“Hey— Hobie. I— Didn’t mean it. Was just repeating what I heard, ykno—“
“Cut it, mate.”
He squeaked, head tilting down in respect, the other spider following.
“Stop spreading shit rumours like ‘at. It ain’t fun when you’re the subject. ‘S it?”
“No.”
“Mm.”
Hobie walked past them smoothly, brushing shoulders with the kid just to scare him a little more. When he was far enough away, he heard them start to whisper to one another. “Fuck man, that was close. He could tell Miguel, and then we’d be out.”
“Jesus..”
He felt rather accomplished that day.
It was days later where you were brought up around him again. He’d been texting you, the upper half of his body hanging from Miguel’s platform, his wicks shifting every time he moved.
Miguel and Lyla were talking amongst themselves, clicking through holograms and sorting things out for potential anomalies.
Jess, Pavitr and Gwen had walked into the room chatting, Pav and Gwen expressing their excitement rather loudly.
He glanced up at them from his phone, you were still typing.
immm gonna b homein ten just be patient >:(
I’m patient 🦑
u werent 2 seconds ago
I don’t subscribe to consistency.
Or this slandering talk
ur consistently lame
also why squid
I’m never lame. Also, he’s cute
hes not real
Don’t do this me
reeeeeal tasty tho
What is wrong with you.
numnnum crunchhhh crrcchhh numnum ( > _ <)
Inhumane.
mmmmmm yummyyyy
He can’t die, he’s immortal
The ‘Texting’ bubble popped up on his screen.
“Hey, Hobie!”
Pavitr was running up to him, looking from his lowered position below the elevated platform.
He slipped further down the platform, slumping slowly as he greeted Pavitr upside down.
“Pav, my guy!”
Pavitr bounced on the balls of his feet, smiling wide at his friend.
“What’chu doing up there?”
His eyes darted to Miguel and Lyla, ending their conversation.
Smirking, he whispered to Hobie, “With the grump.”
Hobie snickered, gaining a disapproving look from Jess.
“Textin’ [Name].”
Just then, the next message from you showed.
immortal ??? how consistent of him to live
He grinned, typing back quickly while Pavitr eyed him knowingly.
He’s a squid, he’s more fluid than anything
ihu
terrivle joke
No, you don’t
And it was great
wtvr >:P
Hobie grabbed the ledge of the platform and swung down, landing softly in front of Pavitr and pocketed his phone.
“Glad ya ‘ere. Those two can’t keep it quiet, aye?” He said, pointing back towards Lyla and Miguel.
“They do argue very often.”
“Nah, Lyla don’t argue, mate. Just the hardass.”
Pavitr snorted and Hobie softly punched his stomach in jest, earning one from Pav to the chest, and starting a round of playful punching. Pavitr laughed as Hobie brought him into a headlock, scrunching his fist over the shorter man’s hair and rubbing it in.
They let up when they heard Lyla teasing Miguel for something again, giggling to each other at his expense.
He threw an arm over his fluffy haired friend and leaned his weight on him. Pav smiled up at him once more, brighter now. Before he could speak, Gwen’s voice echoed through the barren room.
“Same reason as you, I’m guessing.”
Hobie turned his head towards her, dropping himself off Pav and standing up straight again. Smiling at her as she reached him, and went in to hug her briefly. When they disconnected, he spoke again.
“Yeah—, No clue then, mini-punk.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Neither big bad has said nothin’ to me yet.”
“Seriously, are we going to skip over that?”
“Maybe they’re waiting until [Name] is here!” Pavitr chimed in.
“What does mini-punk even mean!”
“Not exactly, Pavitr.”
Jess, who now was standing next to Miguel, spoke.
The trio turned to face the two elder spider-people.
“Huh?”
“We wanted to have a discussion with the three of you—.” Miguel put his hands on his hips, authority that Hobie only saw as a challenge emanating from his figure.
“—Away from [Name], she’s already been consulted.”
Hobies eyes narrowed, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifting to something a lot less unfriendly, and a lot more cautious.
Jess caught wind of the younger man’s tense stature and shuffled forward a step, not unwilling to intervene.
“Nothing too bad, just—,” He paused for a moment, the dense light from the reflective floors making the contours of his face pop.
Hobie watched with batted breath, posture only slightly relaxing from the statement. The crease in his brows begging to be drawn, yet his pokerface was something to be beat.
“,—Addressing her.. lack of communication.”
A shiver raked down the brit’s body, physically restraining himself from chewing this man out with a rebuttal.
“Wha’ ‘bout it?”
His gruff voice was a stark indicator of his annoyance.
“Well, ignoring the rumours following her—,”
Hobie, the usually rather sensical man, was getting more agitated by the minute.
“,—We’ve noticed a certain independence that she holds. Something not many others do.”
The punk quirked a brow.
“So?” Gwen was the one to talk now.
“That doesn’t seem very serious, ‘f you ask me.” She laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. Something Pavitr seemed a tad scared to do. There was a lot of competition in the air right now, he wasn’t very competitive.
“Exactly, it’s not.”
Jess cut in, seeing how terribly Miguel started this conversation made her cringe.
“It’s not—, but,” She shook her head, hair falling prettily with every move. “,Her ‘independence’, has been more akin to ‘lack of teamwork’. In some cases.”
Gwen started to speak again, her eyebrows furrowed, just as Hobies now were. He was right about brewing with offence.
“So!—,” Jess cut her off before she could begin.
“So there’s no need for her to have distractions anymore. From now on, she will not be going on team missions. Just solo’s.”
“Wha—! You’re cutting her off?!”
“Gwen, it’s not like that.”
“Like hell it isnt! She’s a part of us!”
“Doesn’t this mean she’s going to be in more danger?” Pavitr spoke up, concerned.
“No— well, not unless—,”
“Unless!? You’ve gotta’ be kidding!” Gwen choked out.
“And what does ‘consulted’ mean! Did she agree to this?!—“
They continued to argue, Gwen and Pavitr advocating for your teamwork skills while Miguel and Jess had made up their mind.
“No communication,” He pinched the bridge of his nose “,Fuck off.” Hobie scoffed under his breath, turning to leave and storming out.
The voices of Miguel, Jess and his friends following him through the portal to you.
“You agreed to this?”
lIts not like they’re wrong, I just hold you all back.”
He huffed, exasperated. Not only were you putting yourself in danger, you were doing it alone. And letting some guy who has a borderline vendetta against teens be the call for it.
“Now, you know that’s not tr—“
His stern voice was cut off by the frown on your face quivering. A due sign of you nearing to cry.
“Oh, shit— C’mon dollface, c’mere.”
He sat down on your shared bed, scooting against the headboard and bringing you into his lap. A soothing hand ran over your back as you tried to reel in your embarrassment.
“I really didn’t mean to agree.”
Hobie sighed, pushing your head into his neck and watching how the rings adorning his fingers rose goosebumps in their path. “I know, sweet’eart.”
And he did know, the moment that it had been a meeting addressed solely with just Jess and Miguel, he knew that Peter had been excluded for a reason. That Miles had been sent after an anomaly as an unknowing distraction for Peter to chase after. He knew those two intimidated you. And the fear of parental disappointment was something they used on you—, young, sweet you. That only ever got hurt because she didn’t want her problems to hurt others, or herself.
You had opened up to him once. Told him what everyone twisted when they whispered sickening words. A story unlike the rumours crowding your reputation.
How no, you hadn’t killed your parents, or siblings, or whatever messed up thing people claimed of you.
You told him how you hadn’t been bitten yet. How, when your family was killed, you hadn’t had any powers. So you couldn’t save them. And it wasn’t even canon. Nothing could’ve stopped them from dying, but it didn’t have to happen. And that was the guilt that weighed on you. How no matter the hardships your parents put you through, a kid neglected of attention. You still would rather die a million times for them to live once.
And it’s all “would”, and never “can”.
Other spider-people don’t have to live with the fact their parents died for nothing. Was what you said. A messed up thought, no doubt. And one you felt guilty for. But the sole continuer of this sorrow-filled silence. Which has worked well enough to protect you so far, why is Hobie one to break that?
Because you love him, you guess.
His hands slid further down your back, resting on the curve of your waist in his lap.
His breathing soothed yours. The shuddering breaths you had been giving to stop your tears, also stopped.
“You wanna talk about your day instead, luv?”
“Yeah, thank you Hobie.”
“Love when you say my name, Babydoll. So pretty and sweet like that.”
Wrapping your hands around his lithe waist, you hummed. Beginning your recount of the day in the honeyed, reserved tone you’d always held.
Around half an hour had passed with Gwen arguing against Miguel before Peter showed up, Moles in tow.
“What’s all this about?” His slippers flopped when he walked and the baby carrier strapped to his chest shifted every time a sleeping MayDay squirmed to get comfortable.
“This—, This asshole!”
“Gwen.” Jess chastised her.
Gwen ignored it, pointing at Miguel accusingly. “—Kicked [Name] off the team!”
“Not kicked.”
“You said she wasn’t going with us anymore.”
Miles looked offended by the prospect. “Why?”
“She’s not kicked, she’s simply better off solo.”
“Oh, so it’s our fault then!”
“Gwendolyne.”
“All of you, stop.”
Peters voice ended the bickering, having learnt since fatherhood exactly how to use said voice. “We are not sending an 18 year old on solo mission against anomalies.”
“Since when did you have a say—“
“Miguel. You’re an idiot if you think i’m going to let that happen. That’s a kid.”
“She’s an adult.”
“When it’s convenient to you.”
Miguel pinched his nose bridge, growling under his breath. Jess spared a glance at him before wincing and backing down from the conversation.
“She doesn’t talk to people.”
“I’m sure she does, just not to you.” Gwen cut in.
“Yeah, her and Hobie talk a lot.” Miles prepped up on his toes. Pavitr smiled and hummed an agreement.
“Not that I’ve seen.”
Peter gave him another disapproving look. “Disregarding that. The fact you decided to not consult me on this decision is another reason that it’s not happening.”
“Consult? Like some council, please.” Miguel scoffed at him, rolling his eyes and turning to open a holographic tab.
“Yes, like some council. Someone’s gotta be the brains ‘round here.” The father joked, coddling MayDay as she cooed.
“I’m going to go inform [Name] the retraction of this decision.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Oops too late, portals open.”
“Can I come with?” Miles jogged after Peter, hopping quickly through the portal, Peter, Gwen and Pavitr following. Not without Gwen flipping Miguel off as she went. “We’ll sort something out, she can go duos with Hobie.” Jess put a hand on his shoulder, watching as he stared off to where the portal had previously been with a sided expression before sighing.
“Yeah..”
“That went great.” Lyla dragged, popping up on Miguel’s shoulder.
“I’m a second away from shutting you off.”
The AI blew a raspberry at her companion, and disappeared.
He had went off on a tangent about some movie he saw, or song he’d heard. Hobie honestly couldn’t remember, he was too focused on you. The way your voice sounded, how open you were being with him when every now and then you would respond to him. The hearts in his eyes were probably from how heavy his own was beating. Staring at you like a sinner to a prophet.
You had moved down from his lap, now curled against his side, head leaning on his shoulder and hand resting on his chest. At some point, the movie you had been watching before Hobie showed up was unpaused, and serving as background noise for his quiet rambling.
Both of you pressed under a blanket to beat the cold, and the darkness outside your window being killed off by the lights strung across your room. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this cozy, this utterly comfortable.
Sparks of colour strung out of nowhere, neither of them really seeing it at first, up until it spat out Miles. He stumbled forward a little and went to greet you before taking on the scene. You and Hobie cuddled up on a bed, blanket wrapped around you both, fire going, people singing. He was exaggerating the last parts, but it felt necessary for something so unexpected.
“Hey—, guys.” The awkward teen managed, before Peter walked through the portal with the other two in tow.
“Woah, no mean to interrupt.”
Peter put his hands up in surrender. Hobie snorted, it wasn’t like you were incapable of affection, It just seems he was the only one who got it.
“I totally called it.”
“Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”
He pouted, before giggling and waltzing over to sit next to the both of you. Flopping down on the bed and turning to watch the TV.
“Oh my god, I love this movie!”
“Favourite character?” You inquired. A collective raise of eyebrows was shown throughout the room.
Gwen shuffling over to sit down as well, a baffled look on her face.
“The horse.”
“Pff- Max?” Hobie snorted at Pav. Giving the still rather confused Miles - Peter duo a reassuring smile. And greeting Gwen with a fist bump, she smiled wearily at him before her smirk filled out and she punched his arm in congrats.
Pavitr nodded and laughed, gasping excitedly when the scene on the lake showed up. “Perfect timing.”
You glanced up at Hobie, Miles and Peter finding somewhere to sit as well, talking quietly amongst themselves.
He smiled at you, bringing you in closer while Pavitr sat smug.
The air of confusion slowly dissipated into something accepting, none but Pavitr had really expected you to be so.. Open. But they came to find they didn’t exactly mind it.
Everyone had left by now, the knowledge that you didn’t have to go on dangerous missions alone anymore leaving Hobie satisfied and you comforted.
“You doin’ right, babe?”
“Yeah, Hobes.”
You gripped his shirt a tad tighter and yawned, eyes drifting more shut as the minutes ticked down. “Wanna go t’ bed?”
“We’re in bed, dummy.”
He shot you a playful look.
“Don’ ge’ smart with me, young lady.”
You smiled at him before he made the decision to shuffle you both down in bed to get comfortable, switching off the lights by the outlet. He moved back to you, letting his whole body rest near yours, and letting you initiate any contact wanted.
A leg wrapped around his, and your arm still picking the fabric of his shirt.
“Sleep, sweethear’.”
“Mhmmph.”
Hobies breathe lulled you to sleep, white noise against your racing thoughts. He watched you fall, your trust in him to keep you safe was enough to make a man weak. He smiled, looking out your shared window at the city life below.
No crime, no anomaly or misshaped villain could possibly drag him away from you.
BAMBAMBAM 🦑‼️
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imaginaryf1shots · 7 months
Text
Who is he? | Charles Leclerc
Charles Leclerc x reader
WC: 3.1K
Warnings: goggle translated French, unedited?
AN:This could have been longer but I don't like my one shots to be too long. so here you go, I hope you like it!
Based of THIS request
Masterlist
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The music was so loud it was hard for anyone to talk, but who’s at a club to talk anyway? You have a few drinks in you, not drunk but tipsy. Your best friend had a disastrous date last night and as a way to get her out of the mood she was in, your group of friends decided to hit the club to just have a girl’s night out, but here you are now, a few hours in and your best friends is dancing with some random guy and the rest are all doing their own thing. You for one was on the dance floor having the time of your life, you don’t know how, but in the low light of the club and in between the sweaty bodies of people on the dance floor, your eyes meet a pair of green ones. His eyes are on you and hold his gaze, it’s clear he’s been watching you, and now you’ve seen him you can’t take your eyes off him. So with a smile his way you continue dancing while maintaining eye contact. 
The guy moves through the crowd and he’s suddenly right in front of you, it didn’t take any encouragement from either of you to start dancing. His hands were placed on your waist as you moved left to right swaying with the music. One song in, two songs in, three songs in and his hands have wandered to your lower back. Your hands moved from his chest to his shoulders to around his neck, bodies flushed against each other. 
“Wanna get out of here?” You whisper in his ear and lean back to his dimples poking as he nods.
“Yeah, my hotel is close.” He says and pulls you away from the dance floor and waits until you grab your clutch and tell your friend at the table where you’re going before you’re out of the club and into a cab. “I’m charles by the way.”
“(y/n).”
Both you and Charles were sober enough for you to remember him but too drunk to think about safety of any kind, but it was a night to remember that’s for sure. And that’s not because of the amazing sex they had, which it was, no but because of the two pink lines she’s staring at.
“What does it say?” Your best friend asks coming into the bathroom, she sees you standing there in shock, looking over your shoulder at the pregnancy test, there it is. Your life is changed forever, from that moment on, your life went from revolving around yourself to revolving around the little human you’re growing inside of you. You knew instantly that you’ll be keeping the baby, no doubt about it.
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
“Seriously, how hard is it to find someone in the age of the internet?” Your friend asked, like on the day you all went out, you’re all now gathered again, your friends hand wine while you drank juice/water. All in your PJs with your latest craving all on the table, phones and laptops out. All looking for every possible Charles in your area, and then moving outwards. Looking for your oblivious baby daddy. Yes the clear possibility of him being from a different country is prominent especially since you went back to his hotel room not his house, but for the sake of being hopeful that’s a possibility you’re trying to ignore, for now.
Your friend’s words were proven wrong seeing as all your attempts of finding Charles were hard, you knew absolutely nothing about him besides his first name. You did spend long hours crying, because how foolish are you to go sleep with a random person you know nothing about but his first name, if it was even his real one. But alas, you’re going to have a baby, that you found out is a boy on one of your scans, which you were never alone to, because you best believe one of your friends was there with you.
one thing that came out of this for sure is, how amazing your friend group is, you’ve all grown closer, forming a bond that you knew will withstand time. all your schedules were synced and organised for someone to be always with you, for all your cravings to be met for you to just never feel alone, and the moment you gave up on finding Charles you knew that you’ll be okay and that your baby will be loved. 
And he is, now at two months old, he’s the most spoiled kid there is, new clothes every week, new toys always being carried and dotted on. He needed nothing. 
You were spending the day at one of your friend’s house that she had with her boyfriend, sitting on the sofa and just lounging around since baby Noah was down for his nap time. you and your friend were gossiping while her friend had his TV on to watch his favourite sport. You really weren’t paying attention, engrossed in the latest gossip happening, but his voice caught your ear, your eyes strayed to the TV for a split second, before you went back for a second look.
“What? what happened?” Your friend asked, confused as she looked at the TV then at you.
“That’s him.” You whisper but she picks it up, she doesn’t have to ask who you’re talking about. at the bottom of the screen Charles Leclerc is written.
“What are you talking about?” Her boyfriend asks, confused.
“That’s Charles.” You say almost breathless.
“Yeah, that’s charles Lec- wait Charles as in your charles, your baby daddy charles?” He puts it together, he really looks at charles.
“Yeah, that’s him.” You want to cry and scream at the same time, you found him, you finally found him, but how in hell are you going to be able to reach him. He's an F1 driver, he;s an athlete.
“I see it.” Your friend says and holds your hand giving it a squeeze. The eyes, the nose, the colour of the hair, they're all things your son and his dad share. no doubt that the older he gets the more he’ll resemble his dad.
“You better assemble the troops, we’ll need all the help to get to charles.” Your friend's boyfriend said and sighs.
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
Truer words were never spoken, because why is it so hard to reach a single person on Ferrari’s F1 team? you found out so much about Charles the moment you knew his name, one google search and you found out that he’s from Monaco, found out everything about his family and who his friends are. But you still had no way of reaching him.
So what would any sane person do, is book a trip with your friends and their SOs to Nice where you’ll be staying while venturing into Monaco. Was this the most practicable thing? no. but you all took time off from your jobs/school scraped all your money together and enter; mission: find Charles Leclerc. supposedly now is the start of the month-long summer break, so he was in Monaco spending some time with his family. 
You had fun the first two days, visiting all the new places, Noah was having fun, you took all the cute pictures while venturing around Monaco and Nice. Every single person in your group had a picture of you on the night at the club and another of Noah to confront Charles and tell him if they somehow stumbled upon him or any of his family members.
On the third day your friend group split up, you and your best friend were going to a salon where it’s supposedly managed/owned by Charles’ mother, so you found it on the internet. To keep appearances and spend a bit more time there your friend was getting a trim and her hair done.
You sat with Noah in your lap on a sofa near where your friend was getting her hair done. Noah was babbling and talking all sorts of nonsense, at six months he’s starting to sit up with little help, so he’s having the time of his life with this new point of view. 
“How old is he?” an accented voice asks, you look up from Noah to meet the woman you were looking for.
“Uh- he’s - he’s six months.” You tell her glancing at your friend, who gives you a discreet thumbs up. This is in fact Pascale.
“He’s super cute.” She tells you and looks at Noah who is now fascinated with her. Being a baby that is constantly surrounded with so many people has made him a social baby, he’s always happy to meet new people.
“Thank you.” Taking a deep breath as you think of ways to bring up that he’s in fact her grandson.
“Are you on vacation here?” Pascale asks warmly, you find her a very loving person, her dimples are ones your son shares, it takes everything in you not to tear up. Finally, you’re just one tiny step away from Charles.
“Not really… it’s a little complicated.” You tell the older woman, she looks intrigued. To Pascale she doesn’t know why, she can’t really place it, but your son reminds her of something, of someone and it’s on the tip of her tongue it’s so close. “My son’s dad doesn’t know about him, we had… we had a one night stand.” You don’t see any judgement in her eyes, which gives you comfort to continue. “And I just found out that he lives in Monaco, and my friends and I are trying to find him, a bit silly but I feel like he deserves to know.”
“Not silly at all, that’s really admirable of you to come to Monaco to look for him.” Pascals gives you a comforting smile and once again she asks you a question that saves you from asking you about Charles. “Do you know the dad’s name?”
“Yeah, it’s Charles.” It clicked, who your son reminds her of, how she wasn’t able to see it will remain a mystery for her. Her second son. Charles, no doubt in her mind that sitting on your lap is her grandson. 
“I-I think we should go somewhere more private.” Pascale says and she’s unable to look away from Noah, her first grandson. grandchild period.
“Yes, please.”
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
Pascale took you, your best friend ,Sohpia, and Noah(ofc) to her house, she called Charles and told him to come over. So here you are in your son’s grandma’s house looking at all those baby pictures of Charles and his brothers, and you just can’t get over how much Noah looks like him. Pascale and Sophia were playing with Noah while you were having a moment in the bathroom, in desperate need to hype yourself up and to calm your nerves. yes you wanted Charles to know but all the fears of rejection of this all being for nothing came crashing hard on you, so many women were forced into being single mothers and you don’t know Charles, Pascale did say that she wants to a part of Noah’s life but it could all change when Charles finds out. it didn’t take long for the front door to open, and a very familiar voice called.
“maman, je suis là.”(mum, I’m here.) all eyes in the room snapped up to the figure that just rounded the corner into the living room. Charles stopped in his tracks, he saw an unfamiliar woman and a baby with his mother all sitting on the floor, he frowned a little before giving a polite smile. “Bonjour, je ne savais pas que nous avions de la compagnie.” (Hello, I didn’t know we had company)
“English Charles.” Pascale informed her son.
“Ah, sorry, I didn’t know maman had company.” He told Sophia and she understood now why you went with him that night, he seemed so kind and had this calming and trusting aura about him.
“It’s okay, this wasn’t planned.” Sophia said with a timid smile.
“Why did you call me, maman?” Charles turned to his mother confused, just then Noah started babbling away, he barely started to learn how to crawl but everyone could see that he was trying to reach someone, Charles turned to see where the baby wanted to go and he saw you. It did take him a second, he knew you from somewhere, but it came to him, that night at the club. his confusion reached a new high, what are you doing here? How do you know his mother? Why are you here?
You passed Charles and went to the baby scooping him up in your arms, in practised moves, like it was second nature. Charles took a look at you and Noah, your eyes met his and you gave him a nervous smile.
“Sophia, could you help me with the tea?” 
“Certainly.”
That left the three of you together, mother, father, and son.
“Hi.” You said timidly. “I don’t know if you remember but we met last year-“
“Yeah, yeah I remember.” Charles cuts you off, you nod and take a deep breath.
“Look, I don't know how to say this but…” You fidget staying silent for a moment before you regain your courage to tell him. “I got pregnant after that night, and I tried to find out who you are and where to find you, but it was hard.” Charles says nothing, his eyes are on the boy in your arms, he takes him in, the eyes, the nose, the hair, the dimples, everything. “I know it’s hard to take in, and I can understand if you don’t believe me, but-“
“I believe you.” Charles breathed out, like his mum he knows this is his son, he took almost nothing from you and is all Charles. “can I- can I hold him.”
“Yeah.” You breathed out as Charles moved closer gaining his son’s attention, Noah went right to Charles, who held him securely and just smiled at the baby, both father and son were looking at each other intently. “What’s his name?”
“Noah.”
“Noah.” Charles tried out the name before he smiled, it was all a shock, he has a son, he has a son, he’s a father now, a father, his mind tried to compute this new information as fast as it could, but his heart, his heart fully accepted it, a new type of love that is completely foreign to him started to form and take shape. You let Charles have this moment in silence watching them, Noah placed his hands on Charles’ cheeks feeling his stubble and being fascinated with him, charles smiled making Noah smile and then giggle. This just warmed your heart and every single thought that ever doubted coming here went away.
“Do you want me to take him? I’m guessing there’s a lot of talking that you need to do?” Sophia came in after a few minutes and you gave her a thankful and grateful look. Once you were left alone, Charles turned to focus on you. You don’t know why you got so emotional but you did, you were wiping your sweaty hand on your trousers all while fighting your tears away.
Being the kind and loving soul that he is, Charles couldn’t fight pulling you in for a hug. your arms wrapped around him, a few tears slipped from your eyes but you managed to stop the rest.
“It must’ve been hard to do this alone.” Charles said, running his hand up and down your back in a comforting motion.
“It was hard, but I had my friends with me.” You said and pulled back,wiping your tears away, you gave him a teary smile before you both sat down next to each other angled so you’re facing the other, knees barely touching. “Finding you however is somewhat harder, all I knew was your name, and I never realised how many Charleses are out there.” 
You went on to tell Charles about when you found out you were pregnant, a short summary of your pregnancy, how your friends helped you during and after the berth of Noah, how you found who he was and what you did to reach him and all that. Charles listened and asked questions, he wanted to know everything, as much as this was all a shock you’ve had it harder, you lived it, you’ve been living not knowing if your son will ever know his dad or not, not knowing what the future will hold and not knowing is so much harder than anything. 
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
You extend your stay in Monaco, even after your friends all went back you stayed, this is Charles’ summer break after all. He cancelled all his plans out of Monaco, and practically turned one of the guest rooms in his apartment into a nursery. You moved from your hotel in Nice to one of the rooms in his house. You did meet the rest of the Leclerc family and safe to say Noah has some amazing and loving uncles.
Noah is just the centre of attention in every room he’s in, he’s taken to Charles so fast, you’re sure he somehow knows that this is his dad. He'd sleep in his arms on his chest and just lean away from you while you’re holding him to get into his dad’s. Noah had so many ferrari and cars themed toys and clothes in the span of a couple weeks it was hilarious.
On a serious note, Charles wants to be a part of Noah’s life and you want him to be too, and one of the things you agreed on and came to is that finding a job in Monaco is the best plan at the moment and just moving there. With the help of Charles you were able to find a job, you knew that Noah will forever be taken care of by Charles, but you had to find a job for yourself, even if you and Charles are now a couple, I mean did you see him with Noah? Did you see him, period? It’s no secret you’re attracted to him. Noah is a big testament to that, but it wasn’t just his looks, once you got to know Charles you couldn’t help but like him a bit more everyday. So when he asked you to just stay in his apartment you couldn’t say no. He's out of the country a lot anyways so most of the time the apartment was for yourself and Noah with the constant visits from and to the rest of the Leclercs.
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