#// we can probably wrap up in the next reply or two

[the-lying-heavens]

"Pick One Moment"

[Spencer Reid x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: A rough case in Dayton, Ohio brings unexpected emotions to the surface for you, forcing you to confront feelings you'd been hiding for years—feelings for Spencer Reid.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, moment of awkwardness

Word Count: 2.0k words

A/N: just based on the lyric 'And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you...I love you' from the song Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra because it's been stuck in my head. I've been planning to write Spence for a while but I've been intimidated.

Staying professional in Dayton, Ohio proved to be a challenge.

It had been a rough case, but what case wasn't, right? Just have to wrap this one up and you can go back to your house and dog.

Okay, fine, this wasn't like most cases at all, not to you anyway. This one had hit particularly close to home. And you didn't like that one bit.

This made you more short-tempered than usual, even snapping at a witness. After a lengthy lecture from Hotch, I mean from the look on his face you would think you had insulted him, he had 'benched' you by having you go through old files that might be related to the UnSub.

Hey, at least you got to do it with Spencer.

After working with him for so many years, you grew quite fond of him. Too fond maybe.

You stared at him going through files with a speed that should not have been human. 20,000 words at a minute, and you thought you were a fast reader.

"Got anything yet, Boy Genius?" you asked, flipping the page of your own file.

He looked up at you. God those eyes...

"No. This one isn't even related to it." he dropped the file on the table.

"Didn't you read the entire thing?"

"Yes," he replied, "It was interesting."

"You find everything interesting."

"Not true," he protested.

You rubbed your eyes, sighing. "Sure, Spence."

He tilted his head at you, a look of concern on his face. Adorable.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

You considered lying, you had been doing that the entire time you had arrived in Dayton after all, but decided against it. "Not really."

"Is it about your family? I thought this case might bring up some bad memories."

You couldn't help but smile at how quickly he had gotten it. "Yeah, something like that."

"Can I help?"

"Can you make memories go poof?"

He actually seemed to ponder it. "No. I'm not sure why you would want to."

"You never wish that you could just forget the bad stuff?" You knew what he had been through, you had seen quite a bit of it.

His brows furrowed. "I don't like the idea of forgetting anything. I mean, Mom forgets enough so I remember for her too."

You realized your mistake and winced. "Spence... God, sorry."

"It's okay," he reassured you. "You're remembering a dark time in your life, it can be overwhelming. Also explains you snapping at the witness, with your nerves on edge."

"Yeah?" You grinned. "It was going to be Morgan but the asshole left before I could. So collateral damage."

He laughed. "He's outside if you want to insult him now. I don't want to be collateral damage too."

"You? Never."

"Never?"

"Never," you repeated.

Oh, how you loved his lopsided grins. "Thank you."

"Always." If you could pick one moment to live in forever, it probably would've been that one.

Minus JJ coming through the door right then. "We got something."

You wanted to throw a file at her. Instead, you get up with a heavy sigh. The sooner you get this done the better, you had to remember that.

~~~

The BAU was heading back to Washington tomorrow, so you could leave this far far behind. Finally. This case taking up two weeks of your life was enough.

You sat at a cafe next to the hotel where you were staying. It was a cozy little place with a mostly brown interior and warm lighting. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries filled the air.

You sipped your drink, feeling the cup's warmth in your hands. You had been coming here for the past few days and you had to admit, you would miss this place.

Just then, the door opened, and in walked someone you recognized, glancing around the room before spotting you. With a smile, Spencer made his way over, pulling out a chair across from you.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

You smiled back, gesturing to the seat. "Not at all."

He sat down and looked around. "So this is where you disappear to?"

You hummed in confirmation. "it's a nice place to think."

He stared at you for a while before nodding thoughtfully.

"What?" you sipped your coffee.

"Just... Are you feeling better?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, UnSubs behind bars. What more could I want?"

"Closure," he replied quietly.

You pressed your lips together tightly. "It's fine Spence. I'm alright with it."

"I don't think you are."

"Spencer," you said, a hint of warning in your voice, "You want to help, I get it. But not with this. Okay?"

It was an unspoken thing, the way Spencer always seemed to know when you needed space and when you needed someone to push just a little. He respected your boundaries, but there were moments—like this one—when his concern slipped through the cracks.

He sat across from you in that quiet cafe, watching you. You couldn’t tell if he was waiting for you to speak or if he was just giving you the time to process, as he always did.

It had been a rough case, yes, but that wasn’t why you were still here, staring into your coffee like it held all the answers.

Your eyes flickered up to meet his. He was still staring at you, quietly, as if he could see past your walls.

"Spence," you said, your voice quieter than you intended, "I’m fine. Really."

He didn’t respond immediately. His hand rested on the edge of the table, and you could see him fiddling with his fingers. That subtle nervousness he only ever seemed to show when he wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew he needed to say something.

"I don't believe you," he murmured, his voice soft but insistent. “I’ve seen you too many times to believe that everything’s okay, especially when it’s not. You’ve been holding it in, and I know that—"

"Spencer—" you started, but you were too late. He was already talking over you, his voice getting faster.

"Please. I just want to make sure you're alright, okay?" He sighed, his eyes briefly darting away before looking back at you. “I just... I care about you."

Everything felt very... loud. Too loud.

He looked at you expectantly, almost uncertain. Maybe, just maybe, he was waiting for you to make the first move.

You cleared your throat. God, you really hated moments like this, when everything inside you seemed to tremble at the prospect of just being honest.

His hand shifted on the table, and before you could stop it, you had reached out to touch his fingers. It was the smallest of gestures—barely noticeable—but it was enough.

For a long moment, you simply looked at each other, the conversation hanging in the air. There was so much unspoken between you, so much left unsaid. Maybe that was the problem.

Before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out of you, quicker than you could catch them. "I love you."

Spencer's face went completely still, his eyes wide as he processed your confession.

You had not meant to say that. You didn’t. It was an accident. You weren’t ready. You weren’t ready to put that kind of pressure on this, on him, on whatever this was.

But the words had slipped out anyway. You stared at him, feeling the heat rise in your face, hoping the ground would swallow you up.

"Sorry-God, I'm sorry," you quickly got up and rushed out of the cafe.

He just sits there. Frozen.

If you could pick one moment to rewind, it would be this one.

Oh, you fucked up big time.

~~~

You had never been more ready to get home, but unfortunately, there was an hour and thirty minutes on the private plane. With him.

Usually, you would spend an entire flight, after a case well done, talking to Spence. But after yesterday? But not this time. Maybe not ever.

You could feel Spencer’s presence beside you, but he was quiet. So quiet. Not the usual playful banter, no sudden bursts of random trivia or observations. It was almost like he was giving you space... or maybe he was just too uncomfortable to say anything.

Your eyes flickered to him once, twice, each time hoping for some indication of what he was thinking. He was staring out the window, a far-off look in his eyes, his fingers curled loosely around a book in his lap. For a moment, you almost felt the pull to apologize again, but the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel obligated to comfort you. You had put your foot in it already. Now, it was time to ride this out and pray it didn't become permanently awkward.

But Spencer, as always, was unpredictable.

"You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice quiet, but it still carried across the cabin, cutting through the engine's hum.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your lap. Had you been that obvious?

"I wasn’t going to," you said, a little too defensively.

He didn’t respond right away. You could feel him looking at you, the weight of his gaze making you want to curl into yourself.

“You know I care about you, right?” He said it so gently, like he wasn’t sure how you were going to take it.

You felt your chest tighten. Care about you. Those words. He was still speaking, still looking at you, but it was hard to focus on his words because everything was spinning around that one sentence.

"I do," you replied. You had to stop yourself from saying more—there was more you wanted to say, needed to say—but you couldn’t. Not yet. Not until you figured out where your head was at, where you both were at.

Spencer shifted in his seat. He didn’t look hurt, but there was something in the way he held himself. Maybe he was just holding back, afraid to push too hard, afraid of what that push might break.

You finally took a breath and turned to face him. He was still watching you, his expression a mix of concern and... something else. It was the something else that had you questioning everything.

"You don’t have to say anything," you added quickly, "I just...said something stupid. I didn’t mean to make things weird."

Spencer didn’t break his gaze, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Not his usual goofy grin, but something softer. More real. Something... intimate.

"It’s not weird," he said, his voice still quiet, "You’re not the only one who gets nervous around here, you know."

You blinked at him, genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"

His smile flickered, a small laugh escaping him before he adjusted his posture and leaned back in his seat. He seemed less tense, more at ease, "I’m just saying... I’ve had my own share of... feelings. I just didn’t know how to... deal with them."

Your breath caught in your throat. Spencer had feelings? For you?

The question hovered between you like an unspoken truth, but it seemed too risky to ask outright. Instead, you glanced down at your hands, the heat rising in your face.

And then, finally, you said something else, the words coming out quieter than you intended: "Do you think... we can just... forget it happened?"

You almost expected him to shrug it off, to offer a playful remark about how awkward it was or how maybe you'd both laugh about it someday. But he didn’t do that.

"No," he said softly. "I think maybe... we should talk about it. When we’re ready."

Your heart fluttered. Was this... was this him telling you he was ready? That maybe he wanted to figure it out too? Or was this Spencer, as usual, just giving you a window to process everything at your own pace?

You weren’t sure. You weren’t sure of anything. But you couldn’t deny the weight of his words, the connection that had always been there and that seemed to grow stronger the more time you spent together.

"I’m not great at talking about feelings," you admitted, looking over at him sheepishly.

Spencer chuckled softly, a breath of amusement. "Yeah, I’ve noticed."

You gave him a sidelong glance, your lips twitching into a reluctant grin. “Smartass.”

"Hey, you started it," he teased, finally breaking the tension just a little. "And I’ll finish it. But not right now. I think... we both need time to think."

You nodded slowly. He was right. You both needed time. The last thing either of you needed was to make rash decisions while emotions were still running high.

"You’re not mad?" You asked it before you could stop yourself, the doubt creeping in.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" Spencer’s face was open and sincere.

"I don’t know. I just..." You didn’t finish your sentence. What was there to say? How could you explain the mess of emotions you were still trying to sort out?

He reached out across the seat, almost as if he was testing the waters, and placed a hand gently on yours. The touch was brief, but it sent a spark of warmth through you.

"I’m not mad," he said again, more firmly this time. "Not for that."

You were both quiet for the rest of the flight, but the silence between you felt different—more like an understanding, like a promise that when the time was right, you’d figure it out together.

It wasn't the one moment you would pick to stay in forever, but it was a moment you didn't mind being in for the rest of the flight.

[kendraontmblr]

TRAINING WITH BENEFITS - B. SHELTON

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Pairing: Ben Shelton x Fem!Reader [SECOND PERSON POV]

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: [18+] explicit content, sexual themes, mature situations, and heavy intimacy.

A/N: so it’s finally here ! you all probably hate me and i’m so sorry for not uploading yesterday as i said i would. i hope you lovelies can forgive me 🤭 anyways, enjoy ! and let me know what you all think cause i tried a different approach ! love y’all x

────────

Ben’s hand brushed mine again during practice, sending a jolt through me. It wasn’t the first time today—or this week. He knew exactly what he was doing. Every glance, every smile seemed loaded with hidden meaning, a game neither of us had agreed to play, but couldn’t resist. The tension simmered between us, thick and undeniable, building with each move and exchanged look.

His touch brushed my arm again as we adjusted our positions, subtle but enough to make my skin tingle. He didn’t need to say a word; each touch spoke louder than anything. The way he leaned in just a bit too close as we discussed our next move, or the way his breath brushed my ear—soft but deliberate. It felt like we were playing a different game altogether, with one rule: get as close as we could without breaking.

When practice wrapped up, Ben tossed his towel over his shoulder and shot me a sly grin. “Meet me in the locker room?” His gaze lingered on me just a moment longer, and I felt it—he knew I couldn’t say no. Lately, it had become a regular thing, the two of us sneaking away for a quick, heated session in between training. We’d even started calling it “training with benefits,” a playful code for the tension we couldn’t resist. I smirked back, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach.

You and Ben head to the locker room, knowing exactly what’s about to unfold. The space is quieter now, more intimate, with the usual teasing replaced by something deeper, more heated. His fingers brush your back, sending a spark through you. It’s brief, but the touch lingers, the tension between you both palpable. The last time you were here, he had gone down on you, and now, with the memory of that still fresh, the air feels even thicker, charged with anticipation for what’s next.

Without a word, you both step closer, his hand finding the small of your back, pulling you toward him. His lips crash onto yours—urgent, needy—as your hands move over each other, exploring. He pulls you closer, his touch possessive, and you respond with equal fervor. In the heat of the moment, the world outside the locker room disappears, leaving only the sounds of your breath and the soft thud of hearts racing.

His hands roam your body, gripping you tight, and soon you’re on your knees before him. You look up, meeting his gaze as you move with purpose, and his breath hitches. His hands tug at your hair as you go lower, and his body tenses in response. The tension you’ve both built over the weeks of stolen moments finally snaps, and you both give in, letting everything else fall away.

After everything had settled, you found yourself standing in the quiet of the hotel room, your body still humming with the intensity of what had just happened. You tried to shake it off, but the image of Ben’s hands on you, the way his breath hitched, kept replaying in your mind. Even with the door closed, the lingering heat of his touch seemed to follow you, and it felt like the air itself was charged, waiting for the next move. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly over or just the beginning.

Then, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. Ben’s name flashed across the screen.

"Can't stop thinking about you. Wanna come over?"

Before you could even reply, another ding interrupted, another message from him.

"I'm not done with you yet. I wanna return the favor."

Your heart skipped a beat. The butterflies that had been swirling in your stomach all day suddenly intensified. You stared at the message, the words echoing in your head. What now?

The air around you felt charged with possibility. Your mind replayed every detail—the way his hands had gripped you, the feel of him under your touch. The playful banter and subtle teasing on the court seemed like distant memories now, replaced by the electric tension that hung between you both. You glanced down at your phone, fingers hovering over the screen, the decision clear as your pulse raced.

Without wasting another second, you tapped your response, your heart racing as you hit send.

The door clicked shut behind you as Ben pulled you inside, his grin playful but his gaze intense, dark with desire. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, sending a thrill through you. He pulled you closer, the air between you charged with anticipation. As you closed the distance, his lips were on yours again, urgent and heated. His hands roamed, sliding down to your waist, pulling you in even closer as the kiss deepened, the tension between you growing with every second.

The heat between you both grew as you made your way to the bedroom, his hands cradling your face, pulling you impossibly closer, while your hands traced the hard lines of his body—up his biceps, down to his abs. His body felt like fire under your touch. You undressed him slowly, every movement deliberate, as his eyes watched you with hunger. When he stood before you, only in his boxers, you paused, taking him in for a moment, the heat of the moment leaving no room for hesitation.

Ben sinks onto the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide, radiating that casual confidence that drives you wild. As you look down at him, a flicker of something catches your attention—he’s hard, and a single heartbeat pulses in your pussy, the air thickening with desire between you. His gaze is intense as he watches you, his hands flat on the bed beside him, palm-down, giving him an even more dominant presence. You can’t help but close the gap between you. He leans toward you, pulling you in with ease, his arms wrapping around you. You kiss him—slow at first, but the urgency builds. His hands squeeze your ass possessively, earning a soft gasp from you as your fingers tangle in his curls, tugging him closer.

You pull away, leaving just enough space between you, your breath ragged as you take a step back. Ben’s gaze follows you, darkening with desire as you start to undress. There’s a teasing smile on your lips, a playful challenge in your eyes as you slowly peel the fabric off, leaving only your underwear. His eyes flicker over you, drinking you in, and then he breathes out, "Damn, you're beautiful." A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, warmth spreading through you as his words hit their mark. But he says nothing more—he doesn’t have to. The unspoken tension speaks louder than anything.

Stepping closer to him, you place a hand on his chest, leaning in just enough to push him back lightly. You climb over him, straddling his lap with ease. The playfulness in your smile never leaves as you continue to push him down, watching as his back hits the mattress with a thud. “Are you going to return the favor, Ben?” you ask, your voice low, teasing, challenging.

Ben’s eyes meet yours, that familiar grin tugging at his lips, but this time there’s no denying what’s about to happen next. He leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing, "With pleasure."

You position yourself above his face, your heart racing as Ben hooks his finger into your underwear, sliding it aside with deliberate ease. He takes in your scent of desire, his gaze darkening with hunger. Ben’s fingers slide through your folds with deliberate care, his touch igniting a fire in your core. “So wet for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, his eyes locked on yours, dark with desire. The first touch of his mouth on you has your head tilting back in pure pleasure, a soft gasp escaping your lips. His hands roam your body, caressing your thighs, gripping your hips, and sliding up your back, pulling you closer. Your fingers rake through his curls, as you move against his mouth. he moans against you, the vibration jolting through you and making you arch, your hips moving instinctively against his mouth.

As Ben's mouth works against you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, you lean back slightly. Your hands move downward, finding the outline of his arousal through his boxers. A teasing smile plays on your lips as you fondle him, applying just enough pressure to make him groan against you. The sound vibrates through your core, making your back arch, the way his hips shift instinctively beneath your touch only fuels your desire. The air between you is thick with tension, each moment more electric than the last.

A breathless whisper escapes your lips, the words tumbling out without thought as waves of pleasure wash over you. “So good, Ben. So good,” you manage, your voice trembling with raw emotion, every syllable laced with the intensity of his touch.

Ben’s mouth continues its relentless work on you, every flick and pull of his lips sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Unable to stay still, your hand slips into his boxers, finding him hard and ready. You fondle him firmly, savoring the sharp intake of breath against you, the vibration of his groan reverberating through your core. His reactions spur you on, each sound a melody that urges your movements.

Taking your time, you free him from the confines of his boxers, wrapping your hand around him. Your strokes are slow at first, deliberate, coaxing more delicious sounds from his lips. His hips subtly shift under your touch, chasing the rhythm you’ve set. After a moment, you lift yourself, the anticipation palpable as you move down, aligning with him. With a shared gasp, you sink onto him, the moment electric as pleasure engulfs you both.

Ben’s head tilts back against the bed, his lips parting into a grin before a deep groan escapes him. “Fuck me. You’re so tight, baby” he breathes, his voice rough and filled with need. His hands instinctively find your waist, gripping firmly, his fingers pressing into your skin as if anchoring himself to the moment. His gaze briefly meets yours, dark and full of desire, before his head falls back again, his grin still lingering, lost in the overwhelming sensation of you. The way his body responds only fuels your movements further.

You move your hips against him, the pressure making him exhale a sharp breath as his gaze burns into you, and he murmurs, "That's it. Good girl," his voice a mix of praise and heat. His fingers slide up to wrap gently around your neck, pulling you closer until your lips collide in a fierce, consuming kiss. When you finally break apart, your breath mingling with his, your fingers finds his chain, and you tug on it lightly, earning a low groan from him. All the while, you continue moving against him, the tension between you mounting.

A tight pit forms in your lower stomach, the familiar heat building as you move against him. You can feel the pressure rising, your body aching for release, and you know Ben is close too. His arms tighten on your waist, his hips bucking uncontrollably beneath you, chasing his own peak. The intensity of it all pushes you to the edge, and you can't hold back any longer. You can feel his desperation, his need, and it only brings you closer to the edge, your heart racing in time with the rhythm between you.

Breathless, you gasp, “I’m so close, Ben.” Your body trembles, the pressure building as you move against him. Ben’s grip tightens, his voice rough when he responds, “Me too, baby” Just before you both reach the edge, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, his chest against yours as his breath comes in ragged gasps. As you both finish together, you hear his groans, low and needy, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. His sounds, those whines of pure ecstasy, make your stomach erupt with butterflies, heightening everything.

You lay in Ben’s arms, both of you intertwined as you struggled to catch your breath. His hold on you was firm yet tender, his thumbs tracing soothing circles on your back. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, the rhythm calming you both as your body still buzzed with the aftermath of everything that had just transpired.

His fingers gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear before he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. Then, with a fistful of your hair, he tugged your head back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. His playful grin appeared as he took you in, his intense gaze never leaving you.

“Let’s go again, baby."

────────

with love always,

kendra

[readwritealldayallnight]

“-other than that, wasn’t so bad.” Simon says, readjusting the material of the balaclava across the bridge of his nose with his free hand. His other hand is busy, keeping yours warm as you lead him down sidewalk after sidewalk.

The two of you have just finished having Sunday morning brunch at a local cafe, something you insisted was becoming ‘tradition’ after the second time it happened. And according to you, after finishing eating, (Simon never wanting to hear a word about you paying for a thing) the next part of this lazy morning routine calls for strolling about at a pace that he would normally find pointless, if not downright frustrating. But for you, he slows down.

“Butcher’s an interesting first job.” You reply, nodding along in thought. You picture a younger Simon, fresh out of school, probably fresh faced as well. He was likely as tall, though not yet as muscular as the military would make him. A meat clever in hand, bloody apron around his waist, he was likely still inadvertently intimidating people back then the way he does now. “I was mostly just taking babysitting jobs until I graduated. Liked it well enough.”

“I actually had to babysit a neighbour one time, when I was younger. Actual baby at tha’ too.” He tells you with a chuckle, slightly shaking his head at the memory.

“What?” You laugh as well, the image in your mind now swapping out the meat clever in a teenaged Simon’s grip for a drooling infant. “How did that work out?”

“Neighbour comes bangin’ on our door, she’s carryin’ the thing, it’s screamin’ its bloody little head off,” You roll your eyes at the way Simon refers to the child, swatting his arm playfully but listening on. “She tells me her husband thinks he’s havin’ a fuckin’ heart attack. None o’ the other neighbours are home or answerin’ the door. ‘Fore I know it, she’s passin’ me the kid, askin’ if mum can watch her while she drives him to the hospital. Next thing I know she’s gone and I’m left with the thing.”

“Oh my gosh! Well where was your mum?” You ask, in disbelief that you’ve never heard this story from him before, half wondering if he’s pulling your leg.

“She wasn’t home, I can tell you that! Only me and the new lil’ orphan were.” He utters, strengthening his grip on your hand as you start to hunch over with laughter.

“Okay so wait, you were home alone? Oh no! How long did you have to ‘babysit’ for?” You giggle.

“Well technically Tommy was there but he would’ve only been a hindrance, told him to stay in his room.” Simon adds, pulling his hand out of yours, only to wrap it around your shoulder, now that you’ve come to a standstill at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. “Fuckin’ nearly 4 hours went by before mum came home and took over. Longest hours o’ my life. I think that might’ve been the day I enlisted actually.”

You elbow his side as you continue to laugh, seeing that he’s teasing you at the end now. You open your mouth to tease him right back, but your eye catches sight of the shop you’ve been standing in front of, jaw dropping wider.

“Simon!” You’re pulling him with a strength he would otherwise be impressed by if he wasn’t so suddenly caught off guard, senses kicking into high alert now as his head swivels in search of the cause of your distress. “How have we never seen this before??”

Oh.

He should’ve known better.

He actually had been avoiding taking you down this street for a little while now, but had been too caught up in his story telling to notice the direction you’d taken in him. His subtle effort of wrapping his arm around you to tilt you away from the storefront obviously hadn’t worked out. He opens his mouth to answer, but can only sigh when you’re already making your way towards the entrance of the pet store.

“We’re only lookin’, right?” He asks loud enough for you to hear as he follows you in.

Wrong.

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...

Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.

You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.

Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.

However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.

You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.

She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.

But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.

You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.

Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.

Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.

"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.

Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.

"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."

"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"

"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."

He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"

"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."

"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."

Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.

It's definitely working on you, to say the least.

The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.

"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.

"Good luck," Ewan replies.

You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.

"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"

The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.

"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.

You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."

"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."

"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."

"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"

"I'll be sure to tell him - "

Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."

"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.

"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?

"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.

"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."

"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."

"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."

"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.

"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"

One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.

In the best damn way possible.

"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.

"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.

"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."

He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."

"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."

"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."

"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."

The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."

Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?

You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.

Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.

Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.

If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.

And with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.

"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."

No, you didn't, not when it's him.

"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.

"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.

"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.

"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"

"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"

"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."

He smirks, "I don't see why not?"

"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."

"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."

"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."

"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?

"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."

"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."

Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...

"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.

"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.

Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.

"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.

He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."

That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."

"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "

"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"

"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.

"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.

"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."

"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."

He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.

"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."

"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.

Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.

But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.

Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"

"Hi, darling."

"Ewan?"

"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "

"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.

"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."

"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."

"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.

He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.

"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.

He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.

Maybe.

"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"

A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.

"Let's hear it."

"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "

"Not a chance."

" - and swear your love for Aemond."

"Keep dreaming."

He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"

💌 part two - part three

The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤

Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~

[waitimcomingtoo]

The Way That You Were

Pairing: fratboy!Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: you and Peter reunite at a college party and discover he is no longer the sweet nerd you knew in high school

Masterlist

“I’m gonna pee.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Your friend asked you over the sound of the music of the party.

“I’ll be fine. But hold my drink, please.” You kindly requested and handed her your red solo cup.

“Have fun.” She called after you as you left for the bathroom. You adjusted your dress and leaned against the wall as you waited on the bathroom line. You looked around the frat house you were in and decided the walls were not actually something you wanted to lean against.

“God damn. If your ass blew me away I cannot wait to see your face.” A voice suddenly came from behind you. You scrunched your face in disgust and turned around to see who the voice belonged to. Your eyes met a boy in a backwards hat with curls spilling out of it on either side. But what made you lose your breath was the fact that you recognized the eyes staring back at you. The smug grin on the boys face instantly dropped when he recognized you as well.

“Peter? Peter Parker?” You asked and felt your heart ache just a little. You both slowly processed what he had just said and he turned a bright red.

“Y/n?” He asked in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“My friend invited me. What were you saying about my face?” You asked and folded your arms.

“Nothing. Something stupid.” He said quickly before breaking into a smile. He suddenly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. You blinked in surprise and hesitantly patted his back.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He said into your ear.

“Neither can I.” You laughed dryly as you pulled out of the hug. You stepped back and took a moment to take him in. His arms were much bigger than you remembered from back in high school and you had a full view of them in his white cut off tank top. Everything about his outfit was different from his typical style, down to the shoes he was wearing. You would’ve thought he was wearing a costume if he didn’t look so natural.

“God, look at you.” He sighed as he looked you up and down. A dopey smile remained on his face and he shook his head as if he trying to shake a thought out of his mind.

“Me? Look at you. You look so different. What are you doing at a party like this?” You wondered.

“Oh, this is my frat house. We throw parties like this every weekend.” He replied and you laughed. He didn’t laugh with you and you realized he wasn’t joking.

“You live here?“ You asked as your eyes darted to the poster of a girl in a bikini riding a beer can barely covering a hole in the wall.

“That’s not mine.” Peter said quickly.

“The hole or the poster?”

“Can I get you a drink?” He asked to change the subject.

“I’m kinda waiting for something.” You laughed awkwardly and nodded towards the bathroom door.

“After? I’ll wait.” He offered. He seemed very eager to talk to you and you couldn’t deny that you had been desperate to talk to him ever since you graduated high school.

“Okay.” You agreed. “Sure.”

“Wait, don’t use that bathroom. It’s probably disgusting. It’s actually most definitely disgusting. I have a bathroom in my room. It’s much cleaner. Come on.” He said and nodded towards the stairs.

“Oh. Okay.” You looked around at who was watching before following him up the stairs. You stayed close behind him until the two of you reached his bedroom. You would never normally follow a guy up to his bedroom at a party without telling anyone where you were going but you grew up with Peter so you trusted him. You entered his bedroom and you discreetly took a look around. You’d been to his apartment in high school and were saddened to see his posters of the periodic table and Star Wars were replaced with patched up holes in the wall and a poster of Goodfellas next to a tapestry that said “Saturdays are for boys” over an American flag.

“I’ll guard the door.” Peter told you as he showed you where the bathroom was.

“Thank you.” You shot him a smile before going inside. Peter’s bathroom was much more akin to the Peter you once knew. You smiled at the miscellaneous artifacts on his bathroom counter and did what you came to do before leaving.

“Hey.” You smiled awkwardly at him when you left the bathroom.

“Hey.” He smiled back. “I kinda can’t believe you just used my bathroom.”

“I kinda can’t believe you have pink hand towels and Darth Vader shampoo.”

“Hey, hey, hey. That’s not Darth Vader. It’s the Mandelorian.” He corrected. “And they’re only pink because I washed them with my Chiefs jersey.”

“You own a jersey?” You raised at eyebrow at him.

“I do now that Taylor Swift said it’s okay to watch football.”

“You still listen to Taylor?” You smiled in surprise.

“Obviously. I was listening to Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus while I pregamed for this party.”

“Jesus.” You chuckled. “Who hurt you?”

“I just like the line about wondering.” He laughed as well but didn’t meet your eyes.

“So do I.” You admitted and he finally looked at you. You shared a moment of lingering eye contact accompanied by a comfortable silence. He looked different, and not just because of his outfit. He looked older. His baby face had hardened and he looked more like a man now and not the boy you once knew. But as different as he was, his eyes were the same. So was his laugh. And despite the years that had gone by without you seeing each other, you slipped right back into your friendship.

“Can I make you that drink now?” Peter asked after a beat.

“Okay.” You smiled and he slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Stay close to me. The people that come to these parties haven’t had all their vaccines.” He whispered in your ear as he led you back downstairs.

“I will.” You laughed and felt relieved his sense of humor was still in tact. A few people from Peter’s school turned to look at the two of you as you made your way to the kitchen but Peter didn’t seem to notice.

“This is the kitchen. All the healthy cereals are mine.” Peter said proudly and pointed to a box of Mini Wheats on top of the refrigerator.

“By healthy do you mean the frosted strawberry Mini Wheats?”

“Those really hit after a nightmare.” He insisted. “Plus, strawberry is a fruit and wheat is good for you. God, what do they teach girls in school?”

“Not the important stuff, apparently.” You laughed and he smiled as he caught your eyes. He pulled out a fresh red solo cup and got some ice.

“Do you still like Shirley temples?” He asked you.

“Yeah. You remember that?”

“Of course I do. I remember making makeshift ones out of sprite and strawberry syrup at Ned’s Halloween party Junior year because you told me they were your favorite.”

“Those were not bad.” You recalled. “Or maybe they just tasted better because I was 17 and drunk for the first time.”

“That was my first time drinking too. White Claw does not taste as good on the way out as it does the way in.” Peter grimaced and grabbed a beer from the ice bucket on the counter. You watched him crack it open with ease and felt an ache of nostalgia for those few nights of getting drunk as teenagers off alcohol from 7/11 that someone’s older brother bought.

“But I see you’ve outgrown White Claw.”

“Yeah. My friends and I pretty much only drink beer.” Peter nodded and took a swig of it.

“Don’t you worry about getting a…” You trailed off when Peter lifted his shirt to wipe his mouth with, giving you a full view of his abdomen. Peter’s sweaters and nerdy t shirts never let on that he was carved by the gods underneath his clothing.

“Beer gut.” You barely got the words out and blinked a few times to get back into reality.

“I seriously can’t believe you’re here. I always wondered what happened to you after high school.” Peter admitted as he made your drink for you.

“I know. I dropped my phone on the subway tracks a few years back and got a new number. But I always wondered about you too.” You told him.

“You did?” He smiled in relief.

“Of course I did. I tried to find you on social media but I couldn’t find anything.

“Yeah. I never really got the hang of it. I did try to find you in a phone book once. But the librarian called me a nerd and told me to go back to the 90s.” Peter replied, making you laugh.

“Well that wasn’t very nice of them.” You said.

“No it was not. So I am very pleased that I find you in my house tonight. That’s why I made you the most delicious Shirley Temple in the world.” Peter said and proudly held out the red solo cup.

“Oh, my. Thank you.” You giggled and accepted the cup from him. You took a sip and felt your eyes water.

“Jesus Christ. Is there any Sprite in here or just vodka?” You said through a cough.

“Sorry. That was out of habit. My boys and I are heavy pourers.” Peter sound genuinely apologized and added more Sprite to your cup to make it less strong.

“It’s all right.” You shrugged. “So I have to ask you, how come you’re no longer at MIT?”

Peter looked a little frightened when you mentioned MIT and quickly looked over his shoulder. He stepped closer to you and looked around again.

“I wasn’t happy there so I transferred last semester.” He said in a quiet voice.

“Why are we whispering?” You whispered back through a light laugh.

“People here don’t really know that I was like that.” He admitted and looked a little disappointed to even be saying it.

“Like what? Smart?” You asked at full volume. He looked around again and waved his hand in dismissal.

“I’m still smart. I just don’t let my boys know that.” He told you, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Your boys?” You laughed dryly.

“You know. My frat brothers.” He explained and gestured to the party.

“Right, right. I think I met a few tonight when I walked in on their farting contest and they asked me to join. Do you still talk to Ned?”

“Oh, no.” Peter shook his head. “We kept in touch for a while after high school but we kinda fell off somewhere after I transferred here.”

“Wow, really? You guys were so close. I thought you’d be friends forever.”

“Yeah. I guess I did too.” Peter realized and stared down the barrel of his beer bottle.

“Are you still studying biochemistry?” You asked him. “It was biochemistry, right?”

“It was. But now I’m undeclared. I’m not really sure what I want to do anymore.”

“Really? But you’re so smart. You were the smartest guy I ever met. You still are.”

“I’m not that smart.” He laughed and shyly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yes you are.” You insisted. “You always knew the answer to every question before I even processed what was being asked.”

“You’re smart too. In an original way that I still think about.” He replied, catching you by surprise. You took a sip to your cup for a little bravery and looked into his eyes.

“You still think about me?” You asked him with a coy smile.

“I do. All the time.” He answered without breaking eye contact. You sucked in a sharp breath and he smirked before moving same hair off your forehead. His hand stayed on your face and you felt your heart rate start to pick up. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to kiss him, it was that you had always wanted to kiss him. Now that he was standing in front of you and it might actually happen, you felt too nervous.

“Where are your glasses?” You blurted and ruined the moment. Before Peter could respond, me of his frat brothers walked in and clapped Peter’s on the back.

“Glasses? What’s this bird talking about, Parker?” He asked as he slung an arm around Peter and roughed him up a little.

“Shut up, Flash. She’s not a bird. She’s my friend from high school.” Peter defended you angrily and pushed the boy off.

“Oh shit. This isn’t the chick you were in love with, is it?” Flash gasped and looked at you.

“Who were you in love with?” You immediately asked Peter and felt a little jealous bubble up inside you.

“No, dumb ass. That was a different girl. This is Y/n. Don’t call her a chick either. Thats just another kind of bird.” Peter grumbled. Flash gave you an unapologetic once over before smirking.

“Nice to meet you, sweetie. I’m Flash. I hope you’re enjoying the party. But I do have to ask that you keep it down later because my room is right next to his and I have an 8 am class tomorrow.”

“Don’t, man.” Peter warned.

“Keep what down?” You wondered.

“Well, you know. Parker has girls in there so often I had to start charging them rent. Especially because they drink all the orange juice in the morning. And they tend to keep me up all night due to all the bed squeaking, so I ask that you’re considerate of the class I have tomorrow.” Flash said to you. You gulped and looked to Peter for an explanation, but Peter was busy glaring at Flash.

“Shut the fuck up, okay? Like you even go to class.” Peter scoffed. “Get out of here. Go drink some water. And take a bath. You stink.”

“All right. Just go easy on her, okay Parker? She seems like a nice girl. She deserves to be able to walk out of here in the morning.” Flash clapped him on the back again and you let out a shocked laugh.

“Fuck off. Now.” Peter demanded. Flash held up his hands and shot you a wink before walking away. You looked to Peter for an explanation for what just occurred. You have never heard him swear before and definitely never heard him get angry with someone like that. You also couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to what Flash had said about all the girls Peter slept with. You knew it shouldn’t bother you, but the Peter you knew had never even had his first kiss. Something about the guy you’d always pined after going from never being kissed to a guy with a long line of girls leaving his bedroom made your tummy hurt.

“I’m sorry about him. He’s such a dick sometimes.” Peter apologized to you.

“Yeah. I picked up on that.” You laughed nervously.

“Why’d don’t we get out of here? It’s too loud.” Peter’s said and gestured to the rest of the part. You sucked in a sharp breath and thought back to what Flash had just said. As much as you’d wondered about Peter, you were not ready to “get out of here” with him.

“I should probably get back to my friend.” You answered. Peter smiled politely and nodded in understanding but felt disappointed that your time together was ending.

“I’ll help you find her.” He offered and you agreed. You brought him to where you last saw her and found her making out with someone on the couch.

“Oh!” You said in surprise but your friend didn’t come up for sit.

“I think she’s okay for now.” Peter joked.

“I guess she is.” You agreed.

“Do you want to take a walk?” He asked and you felt relieved that he wasn’t asking to go back upstairs.

“Sure. I could use some air.” You agreed and followed him outside. The two of you walked down the sidewalk together and Peter stayed on the side facing the street to keep you from stumbling into it on accident. It felt easy to talk to him despite the years of being apart from each other and the longer you talked, the more you realized he hadn’t changed all that much. Sure, he swore a lot more now and made some dumb jokes, but his character was the same.

“Are you cold?” He asked you at one point.

“No. I’m okay. The fresh air feels good.”

“Good. Because I don’t have a jacket to offer you. But I would give you my jacket if I had one.”

“I appreciate that.” You laughed and looked over at him.

“So how long are you visiting your friend for?” He asked you.

“I go back to school on Tuesday.”

“So soon?” He stopped walking and frowned.

“Yeah. I’m just here for the long weekend.”

“Oh, shit, really? I was hoping we’d have more time together. I’d really love to see you again. Maybe we can get dinner tomorrow or something.”

“I don’t know.” You laughed nervously and folded your arms out of self consciousness.

“Why not?” He asked, sounding a little hurt.

“It was really good to see you again tonight. But I don’t think we have anything in common anymore, Pete.” You admitted without looking at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Look at us. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. I don’t know if we’d get along anymore. Not like we did in high school, anyway.”

“Just because it’s been a long time doesn’t mean we won’t get along. We have history together. I’m still the guy you competed with in the decathlon.” He insisted. You looked up at him and stared at him under the light of the streetlight. He sounded like the guy you once knew, but he looked and acted so different now.

“Are you?” You asked quietly. Peter blinked a few times and smiled sadly.

“You don’t think so?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look great and you seem happy with where you are now.”

“But?” He asked, sensing there was more. You smiled sympathetically because there was in fact more and it wasn’t exactly nice.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little surprised to see you tonight. I always wondered about you and assumed you were halfway to becoming a scientist or Nobel prize winner by now. I never expected all this.”

“All what?” He asked, sounding a little annoyed now.

“You know. Frat boy. Undeclared. Chugging beer. Long line of girls coming out of your room…” You trailed off and looked down at the ground again.

“Flash was joking about that. The only time I’ve had a girl in my room was when we had to get a maid after the New Year’s party because there was an unidentified goo on the floors. I’m still me.” He insisted and stepped closer to you. You still didn’t look up at him because you didn’t want to say what you were about to say.

“You commented on my ass.” You said quietly. You didn’t see it, but Peter’s face dropped. He had felt annoyed that you were judging him until he remembered his opening line to you tonight was about your body. He felt guilty for reducing a girl he knew so well to an object for him to comment on.

“I’m sorry about that. I really am.” He apologized. “I’m way drunk right now and not using my head.

“The guy I knew in high school was not the kind of guy who says things like that to girls.” You said and finally looked into his eyes. To your surprise, he looked genuinely apologetic.

“I know. I’m not like those guys. I swear, I never normally say things like that. I’m drunk and a fucking idiot. I’ve made a total ass of myself all night. What can I do?”

“Peter, it’s fine. I’m not here to judge you. And you don’t owe me anything. I’m being stupid anyway. I’m not the same person I was in high school so I don’t know why I expected you to be. Thats not fair to you. I guess I’m just little drunk and upset I never got to see my Peter again.”

“Your Peter?” Peter asked with a sad smile.

“Come on, Peter. I was crazy about you back then. The whole school knew. By senior year, everyone had figured it out but you. And I always regretted not telling you. So I’d fantasize about all the cool things you were doing in college. This just isn’t what thought it would be like when we found each other again.”

“For me either.” He admitted as he stared at you starry eyed.

“No?”

“I liked you too. You were the girl Flash was talking about. I was in love with you in high school.” He confessed. You knew you should be happy to hear that but all you could think of was the wasted potential of a relationship that never got to happen.

“You never told me.” You said softly.

“How could I?“ He laughed. “You were so beautiful I could barely get an intelligent word out when you were around. You still are. And I still can’t.”

“I wish I knew. Now I’m always gonna wonder what would have happened if I had just told you how I felt.” You smiled sadly.

“So will I.” He said as his eyes filled with sadness. You stared at each other for a moment with the quiet understanding that at one point you wanted the same thing at the same time.

“Maybe we don’t have to wonder.” Peter said after a beat.

“What do you mean?” You asked him. Peter stepped closer suddenly and tilted your chin up with his pinky.

“Please.” He pleaded. “Just give me one night. I’ll take you to dinner and prove I’m still me.”

“And suppose you do.” You shrugged. “I’m only here for the weekend. What does it matter anyway?”

“It matters to me. Because I’ve always wanted you. Even if I just get one night.”

“Peter, I’m not trying to be one of your girls.” You shook your head and stepped away from him.

“I told you. There are no girls. You are the only girl who has ever taken my breath away. I never stopped thinking about you after high school. Just give me one chance.” He asked and pulled you back into his arms. You stared into his eyes for a moment and found yourself unable to say no.

“Please.” He whispered and sounded irresistibly desperate. You could see his gaze dropping to your lips and felt your heartbeat pick up again. But this time, you didn’t feel nervous.

“I shouldn’t.” You said quietly.

“But don’t you want to stop wondering and know for certain?” He asked, and you nodded. Your eyes fluttered shut and just as you were expecting his lips to meet yours, he cupped your face and kissed your cheek.

“I’m not going to kiss you tonight. Because I’m drunk. And you’re not.” He said when you looked at him in confusion. You were disappointed to not be kissed but smiled knowing he made the responsible decision.

“Oh. Yeah. Good call.” You cleared your throat and stepped out of his embrace.

“But I will be on my best behavior tomorrow for our date.” He assured you.

“I never actually agreed to a date.” You smiled coyly. Peter grinned and pulled you back into his arms and let his hands rest on your hips.

“You agreed when you closed your eyes to kiss me.” He said with his face close to yours. You gulped again but never broke eye contact with him.

“You’re kinda an asshole now.” You teased him.

“Yeah, but in a good way.” He shrugged, making you laugh.

“We’ll see.” You said pointedly. Peter pulled put his phone and handed it to you.

“We will see.” He insisted. “Here. Put your new number in. And don’t drop it on the subway this time.”

“I won’t.” You playfully rolled your eyes and typed your number into his phone. When you handed it to him, your hands touched as he took it back.

“You better not.” He said and slipped his fingers into yours as he pocketed his phone. You stared into his big brown eyes and felt like you were right back in high school.

“You could kiss me, if you wanted to. I had a drink too.” You said in a soft voice.

“I do want to. But I’ll save it for when my lips don’t taste like cheap beer.” He said with a smirk. He leaned in and kissed your cheek one more time before walking you back to the house. You stepped inside the frat house and just as your friend was heading to the door.

“Hey. The guy I was making out with tried to explain the stock market to me and laughed when I said I’m an economics major. I’m over this party. Are you ready to head out?” She asked you as she slung her purse over her shoulder.

“Oh, yeah. We can go.” You replied and felt disappointed to leave Peter so soon.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaned down and whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Goodnight.” You said as you turned around to see him.

“Goodnight.” He replied and cupped your chin one more time.

Ten minutes after Peter said he would pick you up, he still wasn’t there. You checked your phone for the hundredth time as saw the minutes adding up. You should have known it was all too good to be true and he wasn’t the exception he claimed to be. He joined a frat and they poisoned the once sweet boy you knew. Just as you were about to go inside, Peter sped down your block and rolled down the window.

“I’m late. I’m sorry.” Peter called out the open window. Since he didn’t even bother to get out of the car, you got off the front steps you were sitting on and bent down to look at him through the window.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” You said and didn’t try to hide your annoyance.

“I’m sorry.” He said and pouted. “God damn. You look hot.”

You opened your mouth to scold him for objectifying you once again but he wasn’t done yet.

“I’m so sorry I was late. I bet you spent a long time getting ready dry. And I’m sure you’ve been waiting for a long time. I remember you saying you get ready with time to spare and sit by the door until the person picking you up gets there so they don’t have to wait outside for long. And I’m an asshole and came late.”

You had planned to walk away and go back inside to punish him for being late, but you just couldn’t. Him remembering that little detail about you combined with the way he looked in his jersey made you want to stay.

“Well maybe I’ve changed.” You said pointedly as you climbed into his car.

“You have. High school you didn’t wear rings or have sexy red nails. But I figured some things would stay the same. Hello.” He greeted and leaned in to kiss your cheek. You felt your face burning and turned away so he wouldn’t see your smile.

“I thought some things would stay the same too. Yet I met you last night with a backwards cap on. The Peter I knew wouldn’t never be caught dead in a hat. Let alone one representing a sports team.” You teased him.

“It’s not actually a sports team. Look.” Peter took his eyes off the road to reach into his backseat and get his hat. He handed it to you and your eyes widened.

“Oh my God.” You said as you turned over your old black hat you got at the Gap freshman year.

“You let me borrow that at the senior skip day at the beach because I forgot sunblock.” Peter recalled. “And when I tried to give it back to you, you said I could keep it since it looked better on me.”

“It did.” You smiled fondly at the memory.

“I wear it all the time now because I don’t know how to do my curly hair now that it’s longer.”

“I like it longer.” You told him. “But I also liked your short gelled look. With your cute little button downs and sweaters.”

“Yeah. I outgrew those.” He chuckled. “I started working out more and they looked silly on me once I got bigger. Then Flash showed me how to cut my shirts to show off my arms.”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine those arms in a little sweater.” You agreed.

“What about my arms?” He looked over at you with a smirk.

“Nothing.” You said coyly. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“It’s a surprise. But I’ll give you a hint. You wrote about it in your letter to your college self.”

“What?” You laughed in surprise. “Do you have a photographic memory of something? I don’t remember anything I wrote in that.”

“I told you. I was in love with you.” He said and looked over at you. You locked eyes and smiled until a car hocked at him for drifting into their lane.

“How come you’re so comfortable saying it now yet I had no idea back in high school?” You wondered. Then Peter got a text and pulled out his phone to read it. You eyed him but didn’t say anything as he replied to the text while driving. You’d never been in a car with him behind the wheel before and it was starting to make you a little nervous.

“I don’t know. You’re different too.” He answered finally. “I can tell from looking at you. So I guess I don’t feel like I’m telling the girl I was in love with how I feel because I don’t really know you anymore. It makes it less scary.”

“I didn’t think about it like that. You’re right. I guess we don’t know each other anymore.” You said with a sad smile.

“I want to, though. Because you seem like a cooler version of the girl I liked in high school. Who was already cool.” He said and looked over at you again. You smiled at his compliment and stopped worrying about hai driving for a moment.

“I have so many questions for you.” You to him.

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you leave MIT?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t what I thought it would be. I realized I was a big fish in a small pond back in high school. Everyone seemed so much smarter and more experienced than I was. I felt so alone all the time. So I drove home one night and never looked back.”

“Yeah. I get that. I was always told I was a smart kid growing up and then I just felt so burnt out in college. At least you know you got into MIT and gave it your all.

“Thank you for saying that. I like the way you see things. I’ve been missing your perspective in my life.” He told you and you felt your face heat up again.

“How’d you end up at your new school?” You said to distract him from how flustered he made you.

“They had offered me a full ride if I joined the academic decathlon team. Which I do in secret. Don’t tell my frat please.” He chuckled and looked at you to see if you’d keep his secret. You feigned a smile and internally missed the boy who was a proud captain of the decathlon team.

“How’d you end up in a frat anyway? That seems so opposite of your personality.”

“It kinda happened by accident. I was in a group project with Flash and he invited me to a party after I did his half of the work. And it wasn’t the worst once I had something to drink so I started going to more parties. And then I started drinking a lot. I made friends with a lot of frat guys that Flash knew I so ended up pledging.” He shrugged. You nodded your head but were less than impressed with his story. You and Peter had shared many conversations about not wanting to be at the parties you were never invited to anyway back in high school and now he was the one throwing them.

“I still can’t wrap my head around you being in a frat. I really never imagined you’d be into something like that.”

“How did you imagine me?” He asked with a coy smile.

“I imagined you’d be student teaching a biochemistry class and have a devoted fan base of nerdy students who hung on your every word like in Dead Poets Society. And you’d have circular glasses and wear ties and cardigans like Spencer Reid.

“Wow, Dead Poets Society. I totally forgot about that movie. I haven’t seen it in forever.”

“Really? I thought it was your favorite movie?”

“It used to be. I just watched this movie last week where Seth Rogan and one of the Franco brothers were smoking weed and then they witnessed this murder so they were worried the murder was gonna find them-“ Peter started laughing as he remembered the plot but stopped when he noticed you weren’t laughing along with him. The plot was far from the science fiction films he used to talk extensively about during lunch in an effort to convince you to watch them. It wasn’t much, just another reminder of how different he was from when you knew him.

“It was stupid. Anyways.” He changed the subject. “What have you been up to lately? How’s school?”

“School is good.” You shrugged. “I don’t know how I’ll ever work a job once I graduate because now having one class at 12 pm drains me for the remainder of the day, but I enjoy it. I like the freedom.”

“Good, good. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I like the freedom too. I can eat macaroni at any hour and no one can tell me otherwise. And your friends are nice?”

“Yeah. I’ve found a good group of girls. It was really lonely at first like you said but I eventually found my people. It’s been a lot better now.” You answered as your eyes watching his thumbs type something on his phone. You looked at him in confusion but he was too busy switching back and forth between watching the road and texting to notice.

“I totally get that. I ate alone so many times that I started it get used to it. But it gets better when you find a few good people to spend time with.” He said after a minute. You nodded your head and tried not to be bothered by how distracted he was.

“Are your frat brothers good people?”

“I know you probably have a million and one presuppositions about frat guys but I promise we’re not as bad as you’ve been told. Lots of frats are crazy and have those worst kind of guys in it but were not like that. We have a no bullshit policy.” He informed you.

“Oh yeah? What kind of bullshit do you not tolerate?”

“All sorts of bullshit. We just kicked a guy out last week because he cheated on his girlfriend. And we banned the girl from our parties because she knew he had a girlfriend and slept with him anyway. We do not tolerate that kind of bullshit. Plus, Flash told me they once found out a guy was a bully in high school so they took turns farting on his pillow and then he got severe pink eye and had to drop out of school for the semester. Isn’t that hilarious?”

“That’s nice to hear. Except for the fart stuff. That’s really gross. But not tolerating bullshit is cool. I guess I assumed all frat guys were Brads and Chads who chugged beers and creeped on girls. And I assumed that because a frat guy at my school had sex with a pumpkin and put it on his Snapchat story.”

“Ew, what?” Peter laughed. “Who uses Snapchat still?”

“That’s the part you found gross? Damn, how many pumpkins are you having sex with?” You teased him.

“A gentleman never tells.” Peter said poshly, making you laugh. He got another text and pulled out his phone to read it.

“Peter-“ You began.

“I can’t believe you’re in my car. Do you know how many times I tried to awkwardly ask you out in high school? But I was so vague you never realized? And now you’re just in my car and you smell amazing and I barely had to do anything.” He cut you off and grinned at you as he put his phone down. Every time you got annoyed with his behavior, he pulled you back in some compliment.

“Thank you. It’s my perfume.” You smiled and held your wrist out. Peter caught it with ease and held your wrist to his nose.

“Oh, wow. I like that.” He complimented. “Usually I wake up and walk into a cloud of axe body spray in every area of the house. You’re a nice relief from that.”

“Thank you. You smell good too.” You chuckled.

“Thanks. I stole Flash’s expensive cologne.”

“For me?” You gasped and touched your heart.

“Hell yeah.” He scoffed. “I’ve been waiting on this date since I was 14.”

“I never said this was a date.” You said out of the corner of your mouth.

“I’m pretty sure you did.” He said and dragged the word “pretty” out.

“You would have been on time if it was.” You teased him, making him look at you with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, yes, I was late.” He admitted. “But I had good reason.”

“And what was that reason?”

“I was setting something up.” He said simply.

“Really?” You smiled. “What is it?”

“You’ll see.” He said coyly.

“Okay. Weirdo.” You chuckled. “So, where are we eating?”

“I know this great burger place a few blocks from here. You’re gonna love it.” He replied. You nodded and head and smiled until he pulled out his phone again to answer another text. His car swerved into the other lane and he barely noticed, making you shoot him a look.

“Who are you texting?” You finally asked him.

“Nobody. One second.” He answered as his eyes flipped back and forth between his phone and the road. He started to drift again and a car honked at him as it passed by to get away.

“Peter, you really need to keep your eyes on the road.” You said as another car shouted something at him out their window.

“What was that?” Peter asked and looked up from his phone. You looked at him incredulously and let out a short laugh.

“If you have someone else you’d like to be talking to right now, maybe you should go be with them.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Babe, chill. I don’t have anyone else. I want to be here with you.” He insisted.

“Don’t call me “babe”. Its condescending. And you’re putting both our lives in danger because you’re so busy texting. And if you want to be with me, why are you so distracted by your phone?”

“I just needed to respond to something. Sorry. I won’t do it anymore.” He grumbled and put his phone away. His lack of an apology and heavy attitude in his voice was the final straw for you.

“Just pull over.” You told him.

“What? No. We’re almost there. I won’t text anymore.” He promised.

“Peter, pull over.” You said sternly. “I do not want to be in this car anymore.”

“I’m trying to take you on a nice date and you’re gonna bail because I answered a few texts?”

“Pull the damn car over.” You raised your voice. Peter rolled his eyes and pulled over to the side of the street.

“Before you get out-“ He began. Just then, his phone rang with a girls name on his screen and his face dropped. You raised your eyebrows at him and he smiled sheepishly.

“Answer it.” You dared him. Peter gulped and looked between you and the phone before picking it up.

“I’m sorry. One second.” He said and answered the phone. You scoffed in disbelief and glared at him as he took the call.

“Hello? No, I’m not doing anything. I can talk. What’s going on?” He asked into the phone. You had seen enough and got out of the car and started walking down the street. Peter watched you get out and opened his car door to talk to you.

“Where are you going?” He called after you.

“Peter, I’m not gonna sit here while you text other girls. I’m leaving.” You answered and continued down the street. He quickly explained his situation over the phone and hung up before running after you.

“Wait, please don’t leave. I’ll put my phone away.” He promised but you didn’t stop walking.

“You can text whoever you want. I don’t care. You’re just not gonna do it and think you can still take me on a date.” You told him before storming off. You turned the corner and started heading towards a nearby park.

“Wait.” Peter called after you so you walked even faster. He eventually caught up and caught you gently by the arm.

“Damn, you’re fast for a girl in heels.” He said as he caught his breath. You pulled your arm away from him and went into the park to get away from him. He caught onto you again and this time, you had tears in your eyes.

“Where are you going?” He asked. “What about our date?

“This was a mistake.” You shook your head and looked down.

“What? No it wasn’t.” He said, sounding genuinely hurt.

“Yes it was. Look at us, Peter. We don’t have anything in common anymore. I really liked you back then but you’re not that guy anymore. That guy wouldn’t show up late, call me “hot” and “babe”, text and drive, forget his favorite movie, stop talking to his best friend-“

“Oh. I get it.” He cut you off. “You’re disappointed because I’m not the same person I was when I was 17.”

“Yeah. Maybe I am.” You snapped and folded your arms when you heard his attitude return.

“Yeah, well. You’re different too.” He insisted. “The girl I knew in high school was not this judgmental.”

“I am not judgmental.” You scoffed.

“Yes you are. You’ve been judging me since the moment you turned around at the party. Just admit it.”

“Maybe because you commented on my ass like you were one of the dickhead boys you used to make fun of I’m high school. God, what happened to you?”

“I said I was sorry about that.”

“But you still did it.” You laughed sadly. “And then showed up late. And then remembered things about me from high school. And then texted other girls. And then kept the hat I gave you. I don’t understand you, Peter. I can’t read you anymore. This is too confusing. And it’s all for nothing because I still go back home on Tuesday and we’re never going to see each other again.“

“It doesn’t have to be like that.” He said and put his hands on your shoulders. You were surprised by how desperate for you to stay he sounded since it contradicted his behavior thus far.

“I think it does, Peter. Goodbye.” You shook your head and walked away again.

“Wait. There’s snakes out there.” He called after you.

“No there’s not.” You called back. You kept walking through the park until you came across a picnic blanket surrounded by fake candles. Surrounding the blanket were printed out caricatures of celebrities strung up and tapped to trees.

“What is this?” You asked when you heard Peter come up behind you.

“Oh thank God. No one stole it.” He sighed in relief and walked over to the picnic blanket.

“Wait, you set this up?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah. Ellen’s Stardust Dinner turns out to be insanely difficult to get into so I made us one.”

“Ellen’s Stardust Dinner?”

“In your letter. I remembered you said it was your dream to eat there one day.” He said with a sheepish smile. You couldn’t help but smile as well and started to walk around to look at all the photos he had printed. Peter lingered behind you and kept a comfortable distance since you were upset with him.

“Is this Joey Graceffa?” You laughed and pointed to one of the pictures.

“I took some creative liberties with the celebrities I chose to showcase once I ran out of ones I knew you liked. Do you still like Dylan O’Brien?”

“Do bears still shit in the woods? The answer is yes. Sorry. That wasn’t funny.” You quickly corrected yourself and Peter snorted.

“It was a little funny.” He admitted. “Not really, though.”

“I see the entire cast of Modern Family made it.” You chuckled and touched one of the photos he had tapped up to a tree.

“Of course they did. It’s the best show ever.”

“You’re not wrong.” You looked over at him with a smile. Peter took that smile as a sign you were forgiving him and stepped closer to you. You could feel his presence behind you and turned around to face him.

“You set all this up for me?”

“I did. That’s why I was late.” He explained. “I started early but then I ran out of magenta ink so obviously I couldn’t print the rest of my photos despite them having no magenta parts.”

“What about all the texting?” You asked him.

“My aunt is getting a mammogram today. Her mom had breast cancer so she was really nervous. I was checking in with her. But don’t worry, she’s okay. She just called to tell me. And that doesn’t excuse me texting while driving which I normally never do but she was anxious in the waiting room and I didn’t want her to be alone with her thoughts.”

“You didn’t tell me that.” You said softly and immediately felt guilty for snapping at him.

“You would’ve told me to go be with her.” He shrugged. “And I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see you before you left.”

“Well that’s very noble of you but it sounds like she needed you more than I did today.”

“Don’t worry. She insisted I come here instead. I would have just made her more nervous with my anxious pacing.”

You looked around at everything Peter had set up for you and all the details he had put in. You’d misread everything and judged him off of things you knew little about. You looked at him with guilt in your eyes and smiled sadly.

“I don’t know what to say.” You admitted. “You went through a lot today for me and I just threw a fit and stormed off.”

“I can’t say I didn’t give you good reason. I should have told you these things sooner. I’m just not good at this sort of thing. I wanted so badly to impress you that I ended up making you think I didn’t care.”

“Can we just start over then? And enjoy this set up you made?” You asked him.

“I would like that.” Peter smiled and sat down on the blanket. You sat down beside him and leaned into his side. Peter wasted no time in wrapping both arms around you, making you both fall backwards onto the blanket. You both laughed and stayed in each others arms as you rolled over to look into his eyes.

“I’m sorry I judged you.” You said and fixed his hair.

“It’s okay. I know I’m not what you thought I’d be.”

“You’re not. But you’re still you. You still have your heart and your humor. And those were always my favorite parts of you anyway. I don’t know why I got so hung up on the other things. Who cares what movies you watch or what you do with your free time now? None of that stuff matters.”

“Do you still like me? Even though I’m different?” He asked as he stared into your eyes.

“Look at what you did for me today. You’re not different. You just wear different clothes. I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge you. It wasn’t fair. And I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Honestly, I miss who I was too. I miss Ned. And being around people who know what amino acids are. And I missed you. God, I missed you so much. In the years since high school, there have been so many times when I’ve come across something I wanted to show you or thought something I wanted to tell you. I missed hearing your laugh when I made a stupid joke or hearing your thoughts on the bad movies I’d beg you to watch. I never made a friend like you again. And after a while, I realized I never would.”

“I never found someone like you either. No one ever had me like you did. I’ve been dreaming about the day we met again since the day I last saw you.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” He joked.

“Please. How could I be disappointed in this?” You playfully rolled your eyes and traced your fingertips up and down his arm. Peter reached forward and placed his hand on your face to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

“When do you leave on Tuesday?” He asked in a quiet voice.

“Late. My train is at 5.”

“Maybe we can get breakfast then.” He suggested without looking at you as he laced his fingers through yours.

“I’d like that.” You smiled and started to lean in.

“I can cook it.” He added. “After we wake up in my room.”

“Don’t push it.” You chuckled and rubbed your nose against his as you got closer.

“I won’t.” He replied before closing the gap between you and kissing you. The kiss that was years in the making was worth every minute of the wait. His right hand found his way to your hip and he squeezed it.

“Maybe you can push it just a little bit.” You said against his lips. Peter took that as his chance to pull you by the waist on top of him and deepen the kiss.

“That’s how I know you’ve changed. Nice boys don’t kiss like that.” You said when you pulled away to catch your breath.

“Yes they fucking do.” Peter said against your lisp before pulling you back into a heated kiss. You weren’t sure how much time passed as you kissed him but you only stopped when you Peters stomach let out a loud growl. You pulled away and rolled onto your back as you both laughed.

“Sorry about that. We never actually got any food.” He realized.

“Oh yeah. Maybe we should go do that.” You said and rolled over to face him.

“Yeah. We probably should.”

Despite the agreement to get up and go get some food, neither of you moved. You just laid on the blanket and stared into each others eyes with a comfortable silence in the air.

“In a minute?” You suggested after a minute and Peter smiled before leaning in to kiss you again.

“In a minute.”

PSA: DON’T TEXT AND DRIVE. it’s never worth it. It takes one second to get in an accident. Any text can wait. Your life is more important

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[irisintheafterglow]

kid megumi starts a fight. you and satoru finish it.

being fresh out of high school while simultaneously taking care of a second grader was an interesting experience, to say the least. today was no different.

"oh my god; he what? i'll be there in a second, fucking hell," you sputter as you all but shoot upward from your desk, sweeping the post-mission paperwork to the side and grabbing your car keys from the bedside table. the car makes strained vrooms while you impatiently pump the gas pedal, accelerating down the street like a bat out of hell. swerving into the nearest parking space you could find, you forcefully swing open the door to the front office to find satoru waiting in a plastic chair. he mutters an exasperated oh, thank god under his breath before standing and taking your hand, leading you down the hall to the principal's office.

"is he okay?"

"he's fine, i promise." you look at him skeptically, remembering all the times megumi was "fine" yet had scrapes that satoru didn't know how to clean up. "i'm serious. i saw it myself. the nurse cleaned up his nose and iced the hit on his face."

"he got hit in the fucking face?" your jaw drops in shock and you quiet your voice to a hushed whisper outside the principal's office door. "what the fuck happened that he got punched in the-"

"fushiguro's guardians, please come in. we're ready for you," an irritatingly nasally voice calls from inside and it takes all of your willpower not to blast the door open until it's shredded to pieces. megumi's principal sits behind an obtrusively large wooden desk, with the boy sitting by one end and two empty chairs at the other. you immediately drag one of the chairs over to sit by his side, but a wrinkled hand stops you. "please sit across from him, not beside him. he must receive proper punishment and that begins with accounting for his own actions," the principal instructs you and you catch satoru's jaw clench in restrained anger. he wanted to tear the principal's head off for telling you what to do, especially since it was regarding megumi.

"i'll decide where i want to sit, thank you," you reply with forced politeness, sliding the chair next to a defeated megumi. he scoots as close to you as he can and links his pinky finger in yours. it's small, but you know he's trying to manage his anxiety along with yours. satoru shrugs indifferently at the principal but shoots you a proud wink when no one is looking. "they cleaned you up, yeah?" you ask megumi softly and he nods, wincing slightly when your knuckles lightly brush the bruise on his cheek. "i'm sorry, baby-"

"fushiguro instigated a fight with three sixth grade students, all of them older than him. we believe he may have developed issues dealing with his emotions, specifically anger," the principal informs you and you make a great deal of effort to wipe the glower from your face. "student witnesses say that he struck first, and-"

"do you know why he started the fight in the first place?" your eyes narrow on the scrawny, shriveled man behind the oversized desk and he shrinks away slightly.

"no, b-but we believe that violence should not be-"

"violence or not, shouldn't you be responsible for understanding why this occurred outright?" your voice is strained and tense, slightly shaky with repressed anger. you stare daggers into the old man's sunken eyes and catch satoru watching the whole scene with pride. here was a man who knew nothing about a child you considered your own, trying to argue that he started a fight for no reason when you knew megumi would never harm a bee, even if it stung him. before you're able to start a physical fight with the idiot school official that probably saw more board meetings than actual students, satoru's voice cuts in.

"forgive me, but i don't appreciate your tone-"

"we'll be sure to properly discipline him at home, sir," he states emotionlessly, and you wordlessly thank him for wrapping the meeting up quickly. after a few more glares and aggressive signatures on paperwork waiving the school of any responsibility for megumi's injuries, you walk out of the office with satoru's arm around your shoulders and megumi's hand grasping yours. "alright, firecracker. you fizzled out yet or do we need to take you to a kickboxing class real quick?" he presses a tender kiss to the side of your head, clearly unbothered by the way you barreled through that ridiculous meeting.

"put me in an empty field away from people, and i'll make a kickboxing class look like a fucking knitting circle," you mutter vengefully as satoru chuckles under his breath.

"alright, megs. you gonna tell us what happened or are we actually going to need to get you a therapist?" megumi glances off to the side, irritated, but you squeeze his hand once in reassurance that, no matter what happened, you'd figure it out together.

"they were hurting tsumiki," he says quietly and both you and satoru freeze, looking at each other in careful understanding. "she was saying it was just a joke, but i caught her crying while we were walking home."

"so, you decided the best option was to fight them," you say slowly. satoru's hand rubs loving circles on your shoulder and you ask the question you've been holding onto since he called. "well, did you beat them?"

"i did, and that's why everyone is so angry," the boy shrugs and you huff a tired exhale. "are you mad at me?"

"no, megs. i'm glad you defended your sister, but i wish you'd told us what was going on before acting on your own."

"yeah, we could have helped you," your boyfriend whispers and you elbow his stomach lightly. not yet, you mouth to him. let's drop him off first.

"the kids said they were going to get my parents involved. is that why you're here?"

"yes and no," satoru says, opening the car door for you as you slide into the passenger seat. he could have warped back to the school, but he'd silently indicated that he wanted to drive all three of you back. "yeah, we're here to come get you; but, unfortunately for those shithead kids-" you turn to face him in the backseat, a conniving smile creeping onto your face.

"we're not your parents, and we're gonna need those kids' names."

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[cherryredcheol]

just one secret

tldr: you know what they say about assuming... a/n: reader is referred to as she/her/wife. this is as angsty as i'll ever be (and this isn't angst)

“okay, just make sure she doesn’t find out. i don’t want her to know.”

you stopped dead in your tracks. you weren’t trying to spy on mingyu and his phone conversation, honest. you had just woken up from a very peaceful nap and the plan was to go beg mingyu to cook for you, or at least pay for take-out. your blood ran cold hearing mingyu on the phone in the living room. you didn’t keep secrets from each other. or at least you didn’t keep secrets from him. you were under the impression it went both ways but suddenly you’re not sure. 

you knew you were jumping to conclusions. you’re not even sure what he was talking about. who he was talking about. it could be any other woman in his life, his sister or his mom. but how were you not supposed to spiral when you hear him whispering on the phone to god knows who about secrets? your stomach twisted uncomfortably. what were you going to-

“angel? you up? are you hungry?” mingyu was calling to you from the living room. he must’ve heard you down the hall. before you could even figure out what your next steps were going to be, he appeared in the doorway, backlit from the sunny windows, and you almost melted seeing him smile at you. but then that little voice in the back of your head reminded you mingyu was keeping secrets. 

“who were you on the phone with?” you had to play it cool, not wanting to alert him of your suspicion. you didn’t want to accuse him of something that was nothing. the best course of action here was to let him tell you. ask a few leading questions and let him fill in the blanks. if it really was nothing, he’d tell you. 

mingyu started walking towards you, holding his arms out for you. “it was no one, angel. are you hungry? i can cook or we can get take-out. what sounds good?” he had reached you at this point, wrapped you up in his arms where you stood stiff as a board. 

your thoughts were racing. why didn’t he tell you who was on the phone? what was going on? why was mingyu keeping secrets?

“angel?” he peered down at you, clearly waiting for your answer. 

you shook your head, clearing your thoughts, “i’ll eat whatever, gyu. i’m not picky.” you pulled yourself out of his arms, suddenly feeling suffocated by his embrace for the first time since you met him. “i’m going to shower real quick while we wait for dinner. okay?” 

you didn’t even wait for his reply before you abruptly turned and went back into the bedroom you had just come from. 

in the safety of the ensuite bathroom, you stripped and let your thoughts run wild as the shower warmed up. what was going on? things with mingyu had been so good for the last 3 years. you two were so in love, his members often complained about spending time with the two of you, citing nausea at the sight of mingyu’s lovesick eyes boring into yours. 

you jumped when you heard a knock at the door. 

“angel? can i come in?” you could hear the confusion in his voice. probably wondering why you had suddenly decided on a shower and not engaging in your usual bicker over what to eat for dinner. you two would go back and forth but mingyu always gave in to you, paying for your favorite take-out spot or cooking whatever you requested. 

you didn’t want to alert him to your strange behavior, still not sure exactly what was going on, “yeah, come in.” 

the door cracked open and he peeked his head in the steamy room, eyes searching yours for signs of what was wrong. he could sense it, of course he could. 

he entered the room fully now, not reaching out to you, but fingers twitching at his sides begging to touch all your exposed skin. he stayed respectful though, eyes never leaving yours. “um, i ordered your favorite sushi. hope that’s okay.” 

things were awkward, tense. “yeah. thanks.” 

mingyu sighed, “angel, are you okay? things were okay before you took your nap. did something happen? can i fix it for you?” he was desperate for answers, hating this distance between you two suddenly. he’s not even sure what was going on, he just knew you were not okay. 

you looked away from him, “yeah. i’m okay. just have a bit of a headache. i’m hoping this shower will help. thanks for ordering dinner gyu, i’ll be out soon.” you effectively ended the conversation, hoping he’d get the hint and leave. 

he did.  “okay, angel. love you,” he gave you one last lingering look before closing the door behind him. 

you did everything you could to drag the shower out for as long as possible but you knew you were being a bit ridiculous. mingyu didn’t deserve the cold shoulder and you’re not even sure if he did anything beyond having a suspicious phone call. pulling one of his shirts on over your head, you decided it was time to face him. if you stewed in your thoughts any longer you were actually going to go crazy.

the first thing you noticed walking out of the bedroom was the darkness of the apartment. all the lights were off and the sun had set while you were in the shower. had he left? 

“fuck!” 

that one little word pulled you out of your spiral. he hadn’t left, just turned off all the lights? you were confused, wandering down the hall pausing in the doorway to the living room, yep, lights off in there too. as you reached the kitchen you saw mingyu hunched over the kitchen table, trying and failing to light a candle in the middle of the table. one of many candles he had lit, you realized as you looked around the room. there were little candles all over the room, a soft glow illuminating the dark space. you could see that the sushi had arrived and mingyu set the table, making for a much fancier take-out night than you usually had. 

“hey,” you called from the doorway, softly to not scare the big, clumsy man holding a lighter above your dinner. 

he jumped anyway, spinning around to see you. he was apprehensive, nervous energy pouring off of both of you as you eyed each other. neither of you wanted to upset the other, doing this delicate waltz around each other's feelings. 

he smiled despite himself, “hey angel. feeling better?”

“what is all this?” you ignored his question, very confused as to what was going on. 

his hand went to the back of his neck, suddenly feeling embarrassed about all the effort he went to, “well, you said you had a headache so i thought you might like softer lighting in the apartment so your eyes wouldn’t hurt from the overheads.” 

you made him jump a second time when you burst into tears. mingyu stood there looking at you holding your face in your hands, sobs wracking your body, frozen for only a second before he jumped into action, crossing the room in long strides and holding you to his chest. you kept crying, the wet spot on his shirt growing larger and larger.

when your sobs turned to sniffles, he loosened his grip on you. pulling back only enough to look at your face. 

“what is going on, angel? please tell me so i can help.” he was pleading with you, begging even. it hurt him to see you upset like this, especially because he didn’t know what was causing it. 

you couldn’t look into his eyes, instead, you stared at his feet, clad in soft socks, one on either side of yours, caging you in. “why would you do all this for me when you’re keeping secrets?” you sniffled, tears pooling at your lash line, threatening to spill again. 

mingyu blinked, confused, “what are you talking about? what secrets, angel?”

you still couldn’t look at him, “i heard you on the phone earlier. you said, ‘make sure she doesn’t find out.’ what did that mean? and when i asked you who it was you said it was no one. are you keeping secrets from me, gyu?” you felt so small in that moment. all the air around you still as you waited for his answer. 

“angel,” he cooed at you. grabbing your chin and bringing your eyes up to meet his. “you heard me on the phone? that’s what you’ve been upset about this whole time? i didn’t even know you heard that.” 

“you still have not answered my question, mingyu.” 

he winced hearing you use his full name, “angel, i promise you i am not keeping secrets. well, just one. but i was going to tell you soon! it just wasn’t the right time.” 

you tried to back out of his grip but his arms tightened around you, keeping you against him. “we promised not to keep secrets.” 

he laughed, “i can’t exactly tell you about my plan to propose, can i?” 

you went rigid, “you better not be fucking kidding, kim mingyu.” 

“i’m not fucking kidding, angel. that was wonwoo on the phone earlier. he’s been keeping the ring hidden at his place for months. he’s dropping it off tomorrow and we had to coordinate when he could swing by because i didn’t want you to be here. didn’t want to ruin the surprise. guess that doesn’t matter anymore,” he laughed, squeezing you even tighter to him. 

you suddenly felt very stupid. and so guilty. how could you wreck his surprise like this? you felt like crying, “i’m so sorry gyu. i shouldn’t have assumed and now i’ve ruined the whole thing.” 

he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “angel, you ruined nothing. you should’ve just asked me in the first place, though. could’ve saved yourself all this heartache.” 

belly full of sushi, comfort show playing on the tv, mingyu by your side, you have never felt more content. you loved this man so much and you couldn’t wait to be his wife. 

“wait, are you proposing tomorrow?” 

[bywons]

YOU KEEP ME WARM ｡｡ stealing their hoodie

𝖫𝖠𝖢𝒪𝖭𝖨𝖢───when you are warmer & cuter in his hoodie

𝑜𝑓 ܃ enhypen x f!r O886 𝑤𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 headcannons bf!enha fluff ── 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 kissing, skinship ｡｡｡ ／ ( 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒 ) ｡

૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა this one was so cute to write. a shorter hc, but i really hope you will like it, mwah baby, have a good day ^^ 💌

reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks

LEE HEESEUNG gasps as soon as he enters the living room to witness his red hoodie being stolen by his dearest lover, you. he approaches your dozing figure, catching you off guard ad he wraps his arms around you all too sudden, pulling you into a series of kisses on your lips. “caught you red handed, you really thought you could get away with stealing my hoodie?” he murmurs, his voice full of affection. you blink up at him, startled but quickly melting into his embrace. he leans back just enough to meet your eyes, still smiling, “you look way too good in my clothes,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, “i might just let you keep it.”

PARK JONGSEONG his heart swells with warmth as he watches you, your figure bundled up in his oversized hoodie, the sleeves slightly covering your hands. the winter fair buzzes with life around you, but all he can focus on is how adorable you look, probably so warm in his clothes. “are you comfortable?” he asks, slowly rubbing the small of your back in a soothing manner, guiding you through the crowd. “always, with you,” you smile, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek which he quickly returns back to your forehead. giggling, he says, “i'm forever glad you're warm enough in my hoodie.”

SIM JAEYUN jake’s eyes light up as soon as he spots you across the street, wearing his favorite black hoodie. his grin widens as he jogs up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “you really know how to make anything look ten times cuter,” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder. you giggle, leaning into his embrace as the two of you continue walking down the city street, hand in hand. “is it comfy?” Jake asks, giving your hand a little squeeze. “super comfy,” you reply, glancing at him with a playful smile. “i might never give it back.” jake chuckles softly, stopping in his tracks to press a quick kiss to your temple. “that's fine by me,” he murmurs, his voice warm with affection. “but don’t blame me if I steal it back when you’re not looking.” his eyes twinkle with mischief as you both continue your stroll.

PARK SUNGHOON freezes at the mesmerizing sight in the kitchen. his blue hoodie, loosely hugging your busy frame, making black coffee on the marble counter. you don't notice him at first, but when you do your heart skips a beat, as sunghoon slips his strong arms around around waist from the back, resting his chin on your shoulder. “hey, that’s mine,” sunghoon sighs, trying to keep his voice steady, though the soft blush on his cheeks betrays him. you turn, smiling, “you’re right, but i think it looks better on me.” he finally gives in to your antics, and giggled in response, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “i can't lie, you look better in this.”

KIM SUNOO lets out an excited squeal the moment he sees you step out of your room wearing his pink hoodie. “oh my gosh, look at you!” he exclaims, rushing over to wrap you in a hug. you giggle, surprised by his reaction. “you’re the one who left it lying around,” you tease, but sunoo is too busy admiring how cute you look. “you’re literally the most adorable thing ever,” he says, his eyes shining with affection. he twirls you around, his smile never faltering. “you’re keeping that,” he says, not even giving you a chance to argue. he presses a kiss to your forehead, then adds with a playful grin, “we can even match next time.”

YANG JUNGWON spots you sitting by the window, wrapped in his gray hoodie, watching the rain pour down outside. he leans against the doorframe for a moment, just taking in how peaceful you look, the hoodie a bit too big on you but somehow perfect at the same time. “you look cozy,” jungwon sings, breaking the silence as he walks over. you turn, smiling as he sits down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “i am, don't wanna take it off,” you reply, pulling the hoodie tighter around yourself. jungwon chuckles softly, reaching over to pull the hood over your head. “you’re adorable,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder as the rain continues to fall. “guess this hoodie’s mine now,” you tease, and jungwon just grins, wrapping an arm around you. “only if i get to share it with you.”

NISHIMURA RIKI walks into the game room to find you sitting in front of the TV, wearing his favorite hoodie. his eyes widens in surprise before a mischievous smile creeps onto his face. “hey, that’s my hoodie!” he says, dramatically pointing at you. you look over your shoulder, smirking, “not anymore.” riki laughs, walking over and sitting beside you. “well, you look way cooler in it than i ever did,” he admits, leaning back and resting his arm around your shoulders. you grin, leaning into him as you focus on the game. “it’s super comfy,” you say. he nods, pulling you closer. “i'm not even mad. but you owe me a game,” he teases, kissing the top of your head.

© bywons, 2024. do not copy / translate / upload on any other platform without my permission.

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[tinytennisskirt]

Meet The Donaldsons

summary: being art’s college girlfriend and being the first girl he’s ever brought home. headcanon of art being the child of a single mother, raised by her and his grandma <3. meeting the family!

warnings: blurb-like, not a full fic. unedited from notes app. kissing. fluff!!! short n sweet babyyy

The first thing you see when you approach is that the house is big and white. The way Art spoke about his mom, you’d think with her grace, she’d be royalty and this house was just that. As you got closer, the intimidation slowed as you could come to see the huge gardens and the too many statues, garden gnomes and pink flamingo decor. Before you got out of the car, Art asked if you were okay. You nodded, so the two of you headed up the front few steps. Art knocked.

She opened the door with her arms up and open, “Arthur!” She beamed, wrapping her son in one of the biggest hugs you’ve ever seen given to anyone. “Oh, my darling, let me look at you.” She pulled away from the hug, observing him, holding his face in both of her hands.

“Mom,” he smiled sheepishly, nose scrunched. You watched his grin take over his smile, perfect teeth showing bright.

“You got taller? I thought you couldn’t! And you’ve been working out, my god, Art, these biceps.” She said, giving his arms a squeeze. You smiled and put your hands on your hips. “My god, you look like a man.”

His smile is pretty as always, but this time you can see that they share similar teeth. “Mom,” he said, a little quieter, her hands still on his face, his arms, his shoulders. He tipped his head toward you and his mom gasped a little.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I’m so sorry, darling,” she turned to you, gasping again when she fully set her eyes on you. she was not afraid to pull you into a hug. “Hi.” She said, rubbing your back as she hugged you. Her hug had the perfect pressure and you note that she smells like pumpkin spice. “My goodness, you are gorgeous, let me look at you.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you laughed a little as she pulled away, giving you a spin. “I’m-“

“Y/N! I know, I’ve heard all about you! God, you’re gorgeous. Art, she’s gorgeous.” She nods back in Art’s direction. His grin is ear-to-ear, wide and stunning as he nods in agreement. “My goodness, who knit you, a supermodel and moviestar? Or two models, look at your eyes, they’re stunning!”

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I-“

“You might just be one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen-“ She turned back to Art, “She is so beautiful.”

Art nodded again, arms folded over his stomach. “I know.”

“Does he tell you that you’re beautiful?”

“All the time,” you replied. “You raised him right.”

She laughed and you could see the resemblance between her and her son as she bat you away, “I like you. Come in, come in!”

She opens the door and steps back inside, Art gladly slips his arm around you, his hand coming to rest on the opposite side of your waist. You beam at him and he’s smiling just the same, your shared thoughts are silent, but understood.

The front hall is massive and bright. It’s not white like the exterior, but the walls are a pale sort of rosy-purple and there are tons and tons of paintings of all sorts of things lining up the grand staircase. But on main display was all of Art’s memorabilia- ribbons, trophies all hanging and on small shelves above the archway to the next room. The staircase, as beautiful, wrapped around that arch to come down on both sides of the foyer. You were sure you’d never been in a house so big in your life, this foyer was probably as big as your house back home. “Wow,” you mumbled quietly. “You told me it was big, but I thought mansion big not big mansion big.”

“I’ve mentioned it but how many times do I really want to throw around the word ‘mansion’, I’d sound like some sort of…”

“I taught him better,” his mom nodded just ahead of you both. “Art knows that we are beyond lucky to have what we have, I couldn’t stand it if I birthed a little Richie Rich. I was already terrified when he came out blonde!” Her laugh was loud and melodious and filled the hallway entirely. You looked at Art, nodding.

“I’m not- yeah- shhh,” he smiled, passing you just a little, hand sliding back around your waist and into his pocket. He rocked just a little on his heels. “Tour? Mom?”

“Tour!” She cheered, “What was I thinking, charcuterie can wait. You like cheese, Y/N?”

“Love.” You replied, smiling.

“Good, because we have way too much. I wasn’t sure what to get but charcuterie is about assortment anyway, so I bought the whole selection. It almost takes up a table!” She laughed her booming laugh again. As she walked into the next room, you had a moment to fully assess her profile. She was short, shorter than Art, just the tiniest bit shorter than you. Shoulder length golden blonde that was just the slightest bit grey but in a sort of chic way. She shared Art’s eyes and his smile.

She didn’t look like she’d gotten any work done though Art had told you she’d gotten some. Her eyes crinkled when she laughed and her eyebrows were expressive and you wanted to credit her youthful glow with a happy life. She was also dressed in a tasteful blue floral wrap dress. Despite her money, the dress was one you’d seen at Walmart not too long ago. She also wasn’t wearing any shoes.

“You saw the foyer, this is the living room.” The room was decorated with flowers and lots of colours, though brown was the colour that was frequented most. But it was paired with pinks and blues and greens. You’d almost expected one of those homes that are nearly empty, but there were far too many fruits in the coffee table bowl, pomegranates and oranges and grapes. The clutter was gorgeous, books all around and of course, more of Art’s tennis trophies and lots of photos of him and his mom. She really loved her son, it was sweet to see.

“You were so little,” you sighed sweetly, looking at a photo of little Art and his tiny tennis racket. “Little blondie.” Art came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you gazed over the pictures of him at one, two, five, seven…

“I haven’t seen some of these in ages,” Art said, looking over them himself. “Before it was diaper pictures.”

You gasped, “No way, they’re gone?”

“Darling, they’re never gone. They’re in the photo book on the coffee table. Let me tell you, nothing compares to this one picture I have of little Art in the kitchen sink, butt-naked. He was one, maybe two? He-“

“Mom?” Art spoke with a tone of loving warning. “No sink bath pictures, please.”

You giggled, swaying with Art’s hands around your waist, teasing. “Later.” You nodded. Art’s mom gave you a sly little wink, guiding you into the next room. This room was a messy little office/study. A grand desk, gorgeously glossy and made of the prettiest coloured wood you’d ever seen. The walls were lined with books and the computer on the table was fancy. Big, chunky, fancy. There was an easel in the corner and a paint setup with shelving. “I like to paint with oils.” His mom told you. “Between business calls.”

The next room was a little gym, then a laundry room, the kitchen was absolutely stunning, huge, very fancy. The dining room was insanely gorgeous, lined with pretty wallpaper and a cream tablecloth. The next room over was a small parlour. You really had the idea that Art’s mom was a sports mom, but she was her own person entirely, and her personality was splashed all over the walls.

They took you outside where there was a pool, a hot tub, and a tennis court. A whole tennis court. It made sense, though. It was the biggest splash of Art you’d seen so far if you didn’t count the shrines. “Oh wow, it’s huge.”

“Where Art learned to love tennis. We bought the house with it, thought we’d let him try it out. Look at him now, on his way to a big name.” She pinched his cheek again and he bat her hand away lovingly. You grinned, squeezing his hand. “Art tells me you play tennis too?”

“I’m learning.”

“She’s better than me,” Art told his mom.

“Am not,” you folded your arms. “I can barely hit the ball.”

“Oh, neither can I, honey. We should play.” His mom grinned, grabbing your hand. Your fingers interlocked and she pulled you in, holding your hand as she pulled you down to the garden. You got into conversation with Art and his mom about the trees, how he used to play in them. It moved into a softer conversation about his childhood and about yours, moving through other curious rooms. You circled back to a room with the table full of cheese and crackers and other fruits and meats, where the conversation was school, your history, repeating the story of how you met. You two sat on the loveseat across from her in her tall pink chair. She clasped her hands together happily, listening, then after a while, dismissed herself for an afternoon nap until dinner. “I’ll leave Art to show you the upstairs. The bedrooms…” She teased.

“Mom,” Art said, a small flush to his ears and nose. He was cute. His mom fluttered out of the room with a small smirk. Art hid his face and you giggled just a little. He raised his head, nose pink. “I’m sorry, she’s…”

“Perfect,” you finished his sentence. You were so genuinely thrilled by all of this, it was no wonder you were practically bursting.God, she’s amazing, Art. She’s beautiful and looks just like you and she’s so eccentric, I’ve never met anyone like her- And I think she likes me.”

“She loves you,” he nodded, pushing your hair behind your ear, smiling. You couldn’t help but grin, leaning in to kiss him. Just a small kiss, with a mutual smile between. “I don’t think she’s ever loved me as much as she loves you.”

“Ooh, I might steal. You better watch out before your mom becomes mine,” you teased, kissing him quickly again. Your hand gently cupped the side of his face, but he held you close.

“There’s other ways to do that, I promise.” He kissed you again. “Come upstairs. My grandma is staying with us for the weekend too, you can meet her if she’s not asleep.”

You kept smiling, “Think she’ll like me as much?”

“She made my mom, my mom loves you and frankly, so do I. I don’t think my grandma can do anything but love you too.”

“Three generations,” you smiled, letting him pull you off the small couch. His smile was content and near a smirk. “I love you too.”

“Mhm.” He pulled you in again, kissing you once more on the lips, then forehead, before pulling you up the stairs. At the top, he did a little turning gesture, wide-arms referencing the top floor. You were a little in awe at how big it all still was. “Thoughts?”

“Huge.”

He chuckled, kissing your shoulder gently as he walked around you. “I used to go down the stairs on my stomach. Got rug burn. My grandma, actually, would always get me frozen peas to soothe it. I always went back and did it again later.”

“I think we would have gotten along as kids,” you nodded. “You’re cute, Richie Rich.”

“Unfair.” He retorted, leading you to his grandma’s room. He knocked gently at her door, “Grandma?”

“Arthur? That you?” A sweet woman’s voice came from the room. “Come in, come in!”

You smiled at the use of his full name. He winced just a little, smile on his face matching yours. He pulled you along as he opened the door. The room was baby blue, with a big wooden bed with lovely pale blue curtains. there was a tv and a rocking chair, which his grandma was seated in. Her hair in a little bun, she was a tiny woman. Very short, very thin, but also still very pretty. “Oh, it’s Y/N!” She smiled, clasping her hands together in a fashion much like Art’s mom. “Come, darling, I’ve heard so much about you.”

Art shot you an ‘I told you so’ look, but you were busy having your heart full of the fact Art spoke enough about you with his mom and grandma that she knew exactly who you were by name and wanted to see you immediately. You stepped her way, “It’s so nice to meet you, Art talks about you all the time.”

“Likewise, my dear! You’re just as beautiful as Art described. Do a spin for me?” You gladly turned in a circle. “Absolutely stunning. Art, you did well, my boy!”

“I think so,” he replied, stepping forward to hug her gently in her chair. He was so cute. Too cute. “How are you?”

“Oh, just a little sleepy. Was going to have a nap in a few minutes. Same old, same old woman.” She bat the air playfully. “My god will we talk at dinner. I am so glad you found someone with such kind eyes, Arthur. They match yours perfectly.” A poetic woman. “How are you, dear?”

“Oh, I’m good,” you smiled.

“And Arthur?”

“I’m good too- do you need help getting to bed? We can leave you to nap.”

She nodded, “Always such a kind young man. Missed you. I watched the last game your mom recorded, you were spectacular.”

“I missed you too,” he said with a small smile, helping get up. “Thank you, Grandma.” His lips pressed into a straight-lined smile. She held onto his arm as he walked her slowly over to her bed, helping her in. Your heart fluttered a bit at the simple act.

“Thank you for coming to say hi, Y/N. I look forward to meeting you better after my nap.” She smiled, pulling the covers over. She squeezed Art’s hand and whispered something to him under his breath. He grinned ear-to-ear. “Good mid-afternoon!” She called to you and Art jogged back over to you, you waved and followed him out the door.

“What did she say?” You giggled, moving closer to him, your chest pressed against his. He just grinned. “Tell me?”

“Mmm, later,” he nodded, hands wrapping around your waist. “Come see my room.”

“Is there a bed?”

“Queen sized?” He grinned, not letting you go, but pulling you with him, still against him, looking down at you just slightly. “My room is furthest down the hall. No judging though.”

“That’s all I’m here to do,” you teased, kissing him on the cheek and walking ahead to the room at the end of the hall. He nodded, so you opened the door and your jaw dropped. The room had pale red walls, partial beige carpeting against wooden floors, a big wooden bed, and a tv setup. You tried to ignore the folded ping pong table in the corner. “Oh my god, it’s huge. The room, the bed, the… wow.”

“It’s big, I know.” He walked over to his bed. The walls had tennis posters, movie posters, and game posters. You noted the mini fridge.

“This is not what I pictured,” you gawked a little as you took it all in. “But it’s so… you.” You eyed the books on the shelves. Old books, they seemed. It was very Art. Even his comforter was very him. He sat on his bed and you stood in front of him, looking down. Your hands rested on his shoulders gently. “Thank you for bringing me here with you. It’s amazing, it’s really beautiful here and your room… Richie Rich.”

He shook his head, hands gently sliding up your hips. “Maybe.”

“Knew it.” You said, pointing a finger. His hands snaked around your lower back, slipping under your shirt to touch your skin. “You admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“Are you paying attention?” You teased, tapping just under his chin. He looked up at you with those soft eyes that read as a ‘no’. “That’s okay.”

“Tired.” He nodded. So were you, you noticed. The trip had been exhausting, but meeting his mom and grandma had given you a second wind that was now dying. You giggled a little as his arms wrapped all the way around your waist, pulling you down onto him on the bed. With easily intertwined limbs, you both got comfortable on his bed, his arms around you, your legs twisted up comfortably. His hand ran over the back of your head, through your hair. A nap seemed to be the theme in the house. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” You replied, squeezing him just a little. You moved just once more, so that Art was more in your arms, and you kissed him on the temple.

“I always dreamed about having a girl in my bed,” he mumbled, a grin on his face, his eyes closed. You kissed the side of his head again, he turned just a little to kiss you properly. You giggled a little uncontrollably as he rolled on top of you for just a second, kissing you hard and then kissing your cheek, your nose, your cheek again, your lips, and then reverting back to his original position.

“To do that?”

“That and other things.” He nodded, eyes shut again, smile still very wide on his face. “Later.”

“Sounds like a-“ you yawned, he followed. “Plan.” You settled in once more and ten minutes later the both of you were sound asleep. And you stated that way for a few hours, maybe three, intertwined on top of his comforter. His mom slowly opened the door in the fresh dark of his room, the sun having set, after knocking a few times with no answer. Her eyes fell on the two of you and she smiled, before closing the door and calling downstairs to say that dinner would be postponed another hour.

Around nine, you woke in the calm silence of his room, disoriented for a moment, but you felt Art beside you, breathing steadily. You looked at the digital clock next to his bed and sighed just a little. “Art,” you whispered, kissing his cheek gently. “Art, wake up.”

He stirred just a little. You kissed his cheek again, then the corner of his eye, then his lips gently. His hand raised, sliding over your jaw and into the back of your hair as he woke into kissing you more. It was sweet and gentle. “Hi.” He said between kisses. “What time is it?”

“Nine.” You replied. His hand slipped down over your arm, rubbing up and down. “Think we slept through dinner?”

“We eat late anyway,” he smiled. “Should probably head down though.”

“Mmm, okay,” you nodded back, starting to get up. He didn’t let you, kept you close. “Art.”

“Mhm?”

“‘Should probably head down though’,” you quoted back to him. He shook his head, pulling you back in to kiss you. You giggled against his lips. “Mmm, Art- your mom, your grandma- are they waiting?”

“Maybe-“ He kissed you again. “Probably. Okay. Let’s go.” You smiled, watching him stretch and get up from the bed. You slipped off the opposite side and went to turn the light on. You checked over your eye makeup which surprisingly wasn’t so disturbed from sleep. Your clothes were fine. You looked presentable, running fingers through your hair. Art, of course, didn’t have to do a thing. The two of you talked about the pictures on the walls as you walked down the stairs, teasing the gap between his teeth from his childhood and remarking on how cute his ears are and were, laughing as you entered the living room again.

“You’re up! Perfect. How was your nap?” His mom immediately set down the book she was reading. “I have to tell you, my nap was so lovely. I had a dream about creme brûlée, so I had my chef whip some up for after dinner. I would make it myself usually, I know, but I thought since we have guests, I’d much rather be present.”

Art rubbed his eye, “Nap was good. Where’s grandma?”

“Knitting in the parlour, we should grab her and head to the table, I know she’s dying to talk to you, Y/N. Kept going on about your hips and my god, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also jealous of them.” She laughed loudly, standing up.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I’m jealous of your hair, I mean the volume, it’s gorgeous.”

“So what you’re saying is we go get our hair done tomorrow?” She shimmied a little teasing shrug. “Oh, and nails? Maybe a pedicure and a massage. Art, your girlfriend is mine.”

He leaned into your ear, “She’s always wanted a daughter.” It warmed your heart.

“I would love that, but I can’t-“

“If you mention money, I want you out of here within the hour,” she warned you playfully as you walked to the parlour. “My treat! I need someone to go with me.”

Art’s hand slipped under the back of your shirt as you turned the corner again, resting on your lower back. “I would love that. That’s amazing.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. But it’ll be fun. We can gossip, talk boybands, get lunch? If that’s okay with Art. Art?”

“I’ll… spend the day with grandma,” he nodded at you, then his mom with a smile. You could tell me really loved how much your mom loved you. Like he was proud, almost. “It’s okay with me.”

“Thank you. We’d be back for dinner and you’re staying four days, correct?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“So you really mean five?”

“Mom,”

“So you really mean a week?” She burst out laughing, turning and hitting Art in the arm playfully. “No worries, darling.” She opened the door and with a few sweet words, you all made your way to the dining room, Art’s grandmother in her wheel chair asking you your favourite colour, movie, show, showtune, animal, etc.

Dinner was delicious and the conversation was lighthearted. His grandmother was gorgeous with a stunning sense of humour and his mom and her got along like best friends. He interacted with them so sweetly. It was clear they were truly valued by him and their influence on him was suddenly clearer. The way he talked was from them, some of his little hand gestures were definitely from his mom. You laughed and ate and shared a bottle of limoncello until around eleven.

They were night people for sure. The conversation eventually lead to listening some music and then eventually, saying goodnight. Art’s mom pushed his grandma away in the wheelchair and you grinned wide the moment they were out of sight, turning to Art. “I love it here,” you told him. “I love your mom, your grandma.” You kissed him, his hands eased around your waist. “Thank you for bringing me-“ He kissed you again. “Home. I am so-“ You couldn’t help but giggle madly as he kissed you back down onto the couch, you were unable to fight it. His hands on your waist still, one knee between your legs, the other knee he balanced on his knee on the edge of the couch. He kissed you passionately, with the underlying notes of sweetness, both of you smiling into it. He was happy to be home, he was happy to have y-

His knee slipped off the edge of the couch, causing him to slip right onto the carpet. You gasped slightly as he tumbled, but then he just laughed, laying on his back on the purple rug. You couldn’t help but laugh with him. He started to get up, but you wouldn’t let him, kissing him as he started to come up, the both of you still laughing into it. He cupped your jaw, pulled gently, and in seconds you were on top of him, kissing him on the carpet while some 90s soft music continued to play from a record his mom had put on a while ago.

A gentle kiss, though unending, his hands through your hair as you kissed on the floor. Smiles still unwavering. Things had gone so much better than expected, you were happy. Really happy. You had plans with his mom tomorrow. She loved you. His grandma loved you. You had three more days with them. With him. Here, in his home, the home he grew up in. God, it was perfect. He was perfect. You were overwhelmed by just how perfect everything had been so of course you kissed him just a little harder. He took it gladly.

Keeping it tame, you ended up only kissing, which felt safe for the living room floor. After a while the kissing turned to talking, your face hovering just above his, fixing his tousled hair and kissing his nose. “You have to try playing tennis again.” He told you. “For me.”

“For you,” you nodded. “Third evening.”

“After dinner, third evening.”

“Mhm. So we can go back up to your room after.”

“Yeah?”

“So I can shower and sleep.” You teased.

“Awe,” he sighed, kissing you again. You kept smiling as the two of you soon got up and chased each other back to his bedroom. After an hour or so, the both of you were tired enough to pass out intertwined. Under the covers this time, with a big day ahead of you both.

Your head on his chest in his bed in his home. It was soon to feel like yours too.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 25 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The arrival of your parents in San Diego means a break for you and Bradley. But when the time comes for you to leave Rose safe and sound at home with them, it's a bit of a struggle. Your weekend away in La Jolla gets off to an explicit start before you realize you forgot something important.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, oral sex, exhibitionism, DILF Roo

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You could see the exhaustion on your parents' faces as Bradley carried their bags upstairs after everyone finished eating his extended birthday dinner. They were used to being on east coast time, and they would probably end up in bed for the night the same time Rose did.

"Why don't you two let me feed her and get her ready for bed while you head up?"

They both gave you looks of annoyance as your mom held the baby on the couch next to your dad. "We're here to spend time with our granddaughter and give you and Bradley a break," your dad promised.

"I know," you told them as your husband came back downstairs. "But we're not leaving for La Jolla until Thursday morning."

You watched as Rose wrapped her tiny fingers around your mom's thumb as her eyes fluttered closed. "There's no way you're going to be able to get me to hand her over right now. Look at her. She's comfortable, and she's definitely not hungry again yet." She glanced between you and Bradley. "Can't you think of something to keep yourselves busy until Rosie's bedtime?"

"I can think of several things that would keep us busy," Bradley murmured as his hand rested on your lower back before sliding down to your ass.

You glared at him, silently begging for him to not embarrass you in front of your parents. Besides, you were still sore, and he knew that was only for special occasions.

"Just go relax," your dad whispered, hand gentle on Rose's fuzzy hair. "You can feed her when she's hungry."

Bradley's lips grazed your ear as he whispered, "Feel like taking a bath with me?"

"Always," you replied with a yawn. "I'm tired of arguing with them when they just want to play with the baby," you told him as you and he walked through your bedroom and into the bathroom. 

When Bradley started the water and pulled his shirt over his head, you had to bite your lip. "They just missed the Nugget," he said casually while his biceps and abs flexed effortlessly as he unbuckled his belt. Your mouth went dry as you watched his jeans slide down his legs before he stepped out of them. "Can you blame them, Baby Girl? We have the cutest kid in the world, all thanks to you. She's perfect like you are."

But you didn't feel that way most of the time. You felt lumpy and weird, especially when you had to get undressed in front of him while you still felt full from dinner. "I think she looks like you more than me," you whispered. You quickly ditching your clothes and got in the tub, curling your knees against yourself beneath the water.

Bradley eased his big body down with a sigh, pulling you against him until you uncurled. His lips ran across your face as he murmured, "She's got this pretty curve to her cheeks just like you do. I would know. I've studied it extensively."

You were helpless to do anything but snuggle against him when he said something that sweet. "Bradley," you whined as he held you tighter. You were tired from celebrating his birthday and trying to pump a supply of breast milk that Rose would have available while you were away. When his fingers brushed your breast, you closed your eyes. You wanted to, but you were stifling another yawn.

"I can't wait to be alone with you. Like really alone. We can order room service and take naps," he whispered. "And when you start to feel full, your tits are all mine for three days. No sharing."

"Oh," you gasped. "I hadn't thought of that. I was going to pack my pump."

Bradley chuckled. "Pack it. But I doubt you'll need it, Sweetheart. Let's get in bed soon. We have work tomorrow."

----------------------------

It was strange leaving Rose home with your parents instead of packing her up in the Bronco each morning. It was also wild when Bradley went into the nursery each time Rose cried only to find that one of your parents always beat him to it.

"When are your parents moving to San Diego?" he asked you on Wednesday evening while the two of you were enjoying a quiet dinner together on the patio while they dealt with a diaper blowout inside the house.

"My mom wants to list their house now." You were looking at him very seriously. "Like I don't think she's kidding. Are you sure you want them so close?"

Bradley nodded as his thoughts started to drift. He had almost no family of his own for his daughter to grow up with. No grandparents. No aunts. No uncles. Brenda was great, and she sent some gifts in the mail, but she was back in Virginia with the rest of his relatives. All he had to offer Rose was his decade and a half long friendship with Natasha, which was nothing to scoff at. She already stopped by this week for a few minutes to see her goddaughter and read her a book.

"Yeah," Bradley finally said. "I want them that close."

"They'll be a handful," you warned. "You know how my mom gets around the holidays."

Bradley set his silverware down. "Sweetheart, I've got nothing to offer Rose."

"What?" you asked, looking at him like he had two heads.

"I've got no family," he said softly. "Her only knowledge of my parents will be the things I tell her about. Carole and Goose will be like legends to her. Hell, I barely remember my own dad enough to tell her much." You reached for his hand and gave his fingers a squeeze as he said, "If she has the opportunity to grow up around your parents, I think that's important. Even if your mom turns into a control freak around the holidays."

You laughed and scooted your chair a little closer to him. "Just as long as you understand what you're getting into, Roo. And anytime you feel like telling a legendary story about your mom or your dad, Rosie and I are both all ears."

Bradley sent you in to finish packing to leave for La Jolla while he cleaned up. Rose's little giggles erupted from the nursery, and he could picture your dad tickling her belly. Thank goodness they were willing to stay here for the rest of the week, because Bradley desperately wanted to get you completely alone again like the babymoon in Mexico.

However, when it was actually time to leave on Thursday, you had tears in your eyes, and he wasn't too far off himself.

"I didn't think it would be this hard," you whispered, holding Rose in your arms in the nursery with Bradley's chin resting on your shoulder. "Why can't we take her with us?"

He kissed the side of your neck before reaching for the baby, wanting a snuggle of his own. "Because I think it's important to have some time to ourselves," he replied, pressing his nose to her soft skin and inhaling deeply. He was actually so in love with his daughter, and he didn't care if you saw him cry, but he also didn't want to cancel the hotel reservation or take Rose along. "And I know your parents will have fun on their own with her."

"You're right," you said, swiping at your cheeks. "The three of them will have so much fun, and we can FaceTime with her later tonight. Plus, I already put all that pink champagne in the blue Bronco."

The vivid image of how good you looked with sticky champagne drying on your breasts filled his mind. And that was before you were lactating. He kissed his daughter's face a dozen times and whispered, "I love you, Nugget, but I need to pound Mommy into a mattress uninterrupted for a few hours."

"Bradley!"

"What? She gets it," he muttered, kissing her one last time before handing her back to you. "I'll put the bags in the Bronco. We can leave as soon as you're ready."

---------------------------

You ran your palm along your sundress, trying to keep yourself from texting your mom again. The hotel was just five minutes away now, and she promised they would call if they needed anything. When you left your house, Rose was sound asleep on your dad's chest while he read the newspaper on the couch, and you knew she would be well taken care of.

"I just miss her," you whispered, staring out the window at nothing, trying to get lost in Bradley's Motown playlist.

"Sweetheart, I miss her during an eight hour workday. Trust me, I miss her now, too, but you and I need a little rest and some time alone."

"And my parents need to know we trust them," you supplied.

"Yes," Bradley agreed as he made the final turn toward the beach. "And I need to lick champagne off your tits."

You couldn't stop the smile that found your lips or the laughter that bubbled up inside you. "Okay, we did have a pretty good time here two years ago."

"A pretty good time?" Bradley scoffed. "That was some of our best work. I mean, I was going to propose to you anyway, but after that adventure, it couldn't happen soon enough."

You had your face buried in both hands as Bradley handed the keys for the Bronco to the hotel valet. Your cheeks were burning, but more than anything you wanted him to never be able to get enough of you. 

"Let's go," he rasped, helping you out your door and into his arms. He was holding both bags and the champagne and wrapping his fingers around yours like it was nothing. "I want to hang out in the room for a bit before we go to dinner."

Once you had the room keys in your hand, you rode to the top floor in the elevator. "How much did you pay for this room, Roo?" you asked, pulling his aviators down low on his nose so you could have a clear view of his eyes. "Bradley," you said, leaning up to kiss him, "how much did you go over budget?"

"We don't need budgets," he said firmly, backing you out as soon as the doors slid open. "College savings will be a waste of time since Rose is going to have a free ride to the Naval Academy."

His words made you smile, and his big hand felt incredible through the fabric of your dress. "How much?" you whispered, unlocking the correct door when you came to it. You were met with a massive suite with a sprawling balcony overlooking the ocean. Bradley was sheepish when you turned to look at him with wide eyes. "Do I even want to know?"

"No. You do not," he whispered, setting everything down and reaching for you. "I'm serious about Rose though. She's just like you. She'll be the smartest kid in school. And beautiful, too."

He had you in his arms, and you ran your palm over the fly of his jeans. "You just want me to let you open some champagne, don't you?"

"Desperately," he whispered. 

Thirty minutes later, he popped open a bottle fresh out of the ice bucket, and you sat down on his lap on the balcony. The sun was bright, but it wasn't too warm, and the crash of the waves below was like a natural soundtrack. "This is nice," you told him, taking the first sip and licking your lips before passing him the bottle. But his eyes were glued on you. "What?"

He closed his eyes, nostrils flaring. "I've had a semi-boner since we got here. There's no way you can't feel it."

You leaned in closer and ran your lips along his ear. "I can definitely feel it. Your cock is huge."

He whined your first name like you were torturing him, and if he was partially hard a minute ago, now he was all the way there. "You'll be the death of me," he replied before chugging half the bottle. Then he froze, eyes going wide while a few delicate bubbles lingered on his mustache before bursting. "What are you doing?"

"Unzipping your pants," you told him with a shrug as you did exactly that. Your room was at one far end of the building, but there was a neighboring room with its own balcony on one side. And it was definitely occupied, because you could occasionally hear voices through the open door.

"The next balcony is like ten feet away," he whispered, glancing to his right before his gaze returned to your face.

You paused with your hand down the front of his pants and your hand around his cock. "Do you not want me to?"

"No, I do," he replied, voice dark and needy. "Very much so, actually."

You wanted it, too. Even just the suggestion of exhibitionism got you going, and you knew that he knew it. "We can be discreet," you promised, wiggling into place so you were straddling him. There were a few people walking around on the beach below, but you didn't care. You pulled your panties aside and let him run his tip through your pussy before he guided himself inside. It felt like your eyes were going to roll back in your head as you shook your sundress around both of you, hiding where you were intimately connected.

"Jesus," you moaned arching your back as your hands settled on his shoulders. "This should always be an outdoor activity." The sun was warm on your face, and now the ocean soundtrack was accompanied by Bradley's soft grunting.

"I know you think we're being discreet, but we're not, Baby Girl," he whispered, rolling his hips up to meet yours while he drank more champagne. "Not one little bit."

"Save some of that for my tits," you told him, tapping the bottle with your nails. "I'm going to need you to nurse soon so they don't start hurting."

"Fuck. Me," he groaned, shaking his head. "If you say something like that again, I'll cum."

You leaned forward, pressing your breasts against him while you fucked him slowly. "Well I'm not ready yet, so don't you dare."

Bradley kissed you softly before pressing the champagne bottle to your lips. "I can be exactly what you need."

--------------------------------

You looked worn out after two balcony orgasms where he had to cover your mouth with his hand. Not only that, but your breast milk was leaking through your dress. 

"Discretion is not our strong suit," he murmured, quickly tucking his cock, sticky with cum, back into his jeans as soon as you let him slip out of your warm pussy. He was sure your thighs were a mess beneath that pretty, floral fabric as you stood there on shaky legs.

He was sitting just like that, with his hand on his zipper and the other one holding the bit of pink champagne that was left in the bottle, when a couple strolled out onto the next balcony over.

Your eyebrows shot up, and you started laughing. "Well, on that note, I hope you're still thirsty, Roo."

"Shit," he grunted, following you back through the door and into the spacious bedroom as you lowered the straps of your dress. When you turned around to face him while wiggling the fabric below your glorious breasts, your brow was pinched with concern.

"They definitely hurt now. I swear they fill up more when I'm aroused."

As you sat down on the edge of the bed and kicked your shoes off, Bradley felt a little dizzy. When you scooted up toward the pillows and eased yourself down onto your back, he could see the drying mess he'd made between your legs as well as the beads of milk overflowing from your nipples.

This had to be something close to heaven. A hot wife, full of his cum, practically begging him to put his mouth on her swollen tits. "Fuck," he groaned, already getting hard again. He was a mess for you. Rosie, too. But knowing you were the one responsible for nearly everything good in his life made him crazy.

He dribbled the rest of the champagne on your skin. "Yes," you hissed as soon as his lips connected with one pert nipple. The two flavors mixed together on his tongue, creating something he knew he'd crave for the rest of his life. Soft sounds somewhere between relief and arousal found the back of your throat while your fingers threaded through his hair. "That feels so much better," you whispered while he lapped up and swallowed down your milk. "Thank you."

He snorted with laughter as he switched sides, running his nose along the warm, sweet smelling valley between your breasts. "This is literally my pleasure, Sweetheart. You don't have to thank me for this." He took your overflowing nipple between his lips and ran his hands along your silky skin while your nails scraped his scalp. "Such a pleasure."

"What are you going to do when I stop lactating?" you whispered.

He wanted to tell you he'd probably cry, but that wasn't even the truth. He let your nipple pop free and teased it with his tongue before looking up at your face. "It's not like I'm going to suddenly not want your tits in my mouth anymore," he promised, making you laugh. "Besides, when you stop lactating, that'll mean Rosie is a toddler, right? There's just too much to get excited about."

"There is," you agreed as he went back to making sure you felt more comfortable. 

When you were sufficiently empty and Bradley was sufficiently full, he curled up with his head on your chest and fell asleep while you played with his hair. There was a smile on his lips when he remembered that he was going to have to do this for you over and over again for the next few days. While he dozed, he dreamed about getting locked in a candy shop overnight where he indulged in everything he wanted before passing out in a tub of gummy bears.

"It's dinnertime," you whispered, tugging on his hair, and Bradley jolted awake. His cheek was a little sweaty and stuck to your skin, and he had to get up slowly as his sleepiness started to fade away.

"Dinner," he grunted, wondering how many calories he was about to consume between a platter of seafood and all of your breast milk. He was going to have to get up early and run tomorrow morning. "Okay, yeah. Let's eat dinner and then drink more champagne while we snuggle."

"Sounds ideal," you replied, sitting up in bed with your tits in his face. He realized that you didn't get completely undressed for him, rather just maneuvering your dress to give him access to your breasts earlier. And now you grabbed a clean sundress from your bag before retreating into the bathroom and pulling the door halfway closed.

He knew you didn't like the way your belly looked now because you'd told him as much, but to him, nothing really changed. You were still you, maybe a little softer. A little rounder. But just as beautiful. He walked right into the bathroom as your dress dropped to the floor, wearing nothing but your soaked underwear. Bradley met your gaze in the mirror as you dug around in your toiletry bag, and he stopped right behind you with his hands on your hips.

"Did you need something?" you asked softly, voice teasing.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, kissing the side of your neck as his fingers drifted across your belly. "I was in such a daze after my nap, I forgot to tell you I love you."

You smiled at him in the mirror as he sloppily kissed your cheek. "I love you, too. Now let me find my pill pack and get dressed for dinner." You rummaged around in your little bag as he continued to hold you. "Huh.... oh, shit." Bradley watched you dump the contents out onto the marble counter he couldn't want to fuck you on later, and you groaned. "I forgot my birth control pills. I can picture them at home on my nightstand."

"It's okay," he replied with a shrug. "I can just pull out." You turned and gave him a bland look. "What?"

"Will you actually do it?" you asked. Bradley realized that you were already full of his cum at this very moment, but he didn't say a word about that as he nodded.

"Of course I will. I told you months ago that I'd pull out if you wanted. Or I can drive home and get your pills. It's only forty-five minutes away."

"No," you replied, clearly wavering. "I don't want us to miss dinner, and the restaurant makes an in-house hot sauce which is absolutely magical. Just pull out this weekend."

He let his chin rest on your shoulder, inhaling the sweet smell of your skin as he nodded. "You got it, Sweetheart."

----------------------------------

I feel as though Bradley made a pretty bold statement there. He's just a kid in a candy shop when it comes to enjoying his life right now. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 26

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[queenie-ofthe-void]

Father's Day

Was going to post this for the steddie microfic June prompt, but decided it's probably not Steddie-centric. Still sticking to the reqs though, just for fun!

prompt: "stuff" || wc: 483 || rated: G || cw: none

~~~

Everyone knows Steve’s house is free reign for hangouts, yet the Party’s collectively designated Sundays as alone time for the new couple. So it’s a bit of a surprise that someone’s knocking. 

The fact someone’s knocking at all is weird.

“Hey sweetheart,” Eddie shouts from the living room, “can you grab that? I think someone’s here.”

Steve opens the door to find Dustin and Max looking slightly shy, if he had to put his finger on it. Odd, especially for them. They’re holding gift bags filled with colorful tissue paper, Max’s blue and Dustin’s red.

Before Steve can invite them in, they surge past him towards the living room. So not too far off from normal, he thinks.

He trails after them and finds Eddie right where he left him– sitting on the floor, surrounded by DnD books and a notebook perched in his lap.

“Babe, what are the sheepies doing here? It’s Sunday,” Eddie asks. He’s smiling up at them, despite the interruption.

Of course they’re happy to see the kids– always are, always will be– but only these two could get away with showing up on Eddie and Steve day.

“We brought you something,” Max says, thrusting the gift into Steve’s arms. Dustin drops his onto Eddie’s lap, scattering his loose notes.

Curious, Steve looks to catch Eddie’s expression to find him already tearing into the gift. Steve sets his on the coffee table and digs out the colorful paper.

Inside he finds a plain, white coffee mug, except it’s been hand-painted with colorful paint pens. On it he finds a basketball, baseball, and a crudely drawn version of his beloved beemer. But on the front, the word “Dingus” is written in Max’s bubble font underneath a bloody version of his nail bat. 

His eyes sting with warmth, and he looks up at Max, whose cheeks are flushed red. Steve finds Eddie holding a similar mug covered in what he assumes are DnD monsters, along with some dice, and his precious Warlock on the front with “Metalhead” underneath.

“What is this,” Steve asks, choking on the lump lodged in his throat.

“It’s all stuff you like,” Max replies, pointing at the mug, choosing the easy answer instead of the real one.

”No– why?” Steve feels like he can’t breathe, his eyes almost full, and his heart racing.

“It’s Father’s Day,” Dustin says, sniffling and wringing his hat in his hands “and me and Max, you know, we don’t–”

“You guys taught us how to play basketball, so we could practice with Lucas,” Max interrupts. “And how to play guitar. And all of the Upside-Down stuff. You’re always here.”

Steve wraps Max up in his arms, dragging her to the ground next to Dustin similarly draped over Eddie. It’s not the six little nuggets Steve asked for.

But these kids– their kids– are so much more than he ever could’ve hoped for.

~~~

To everyone out there who doesn't have a father, your father is absolute shit, or you mom was both parents -- I hope you have as good a Sunday as possible.

[shurisasthmaticgf]

oh baby he down bad: charles leclerc x black fem! reader

summary: three times when you realized you truly did have your boyfriend wrapped around your finger

warnings: crying, period mention, swearing

blog moved to @delewlew

author's note: this is the first charles fic i've written so please be kind...i hope you all enjoy it. i'm sick with covid and i was loopy on meds when i wrote this so i hope it makes sense 💀 comments and other feedback are welcome and appreciated!

whoisyn uploaded a story!

you laid in your bed curled into fetal position with your phone mere inches from your forehead. the room was dark but light enough to see half of your face as your eyes welled with tears. you rambled, "a few weeks ago when i was visiting new york i bought a bunch of takis and nerds clusters because they don't sell them over here in monaco and i went to go get a bag of both and i didn't know i ran out! i'm so upset i don't even want to settle for anything else." you wailed loudly, mixing in a few laughs at how ridiculous you probably looked but you had no shame as you hit post.

the entire day had been going pretty shit from the moment when you woke up and bled through your favorite pajamas to nearly passing out when you wanted to have a relaxing hot shower to make you feel better. now you were just laying in bed clinging to your body pillow that had lingering notes of your boyfriend's cologne. it was early in the night but your entire body felt like it was hit by a bus and you were one tylenol away from needing a stomach flush yet it didn't actually feel like it was helping. to make things worse, all you wanted was your boyfriend but he was supposed to be going out right after he got off of work.

you laid stiff in your bed in an obscure position because you found that was the only one that didn't make you feel worse. the door to your bedroom opened and your boyfriend entered wearing pajama pants and no shirt. you squinted through the dim light and mumbled, "babe? thought you were going out tonight? you had that thing." charles placed two bags of your favorite snacks onto your nightstand and responded, "i was but i found out through twitter that my girlfriend was crying at home." you turned your face away from him out of embarrassment because you were literally crying over chips and candy. he turned your chin back to him, "why didn't you call me, mon cœur?" you shrugged and reached for the bag of candy, "it wasn't that serious." he pulled you closer to him and you shifted positions so your head was against his chest. charles pressed a kiss to your forehead, "anything that bothers you is serious to me, darling. but, i am here and you have your snacks so we can watch your movie like we always do, yes?" you nodded and turned on Princess and The Frog which was one of your comfort movies since childhood.

whoisyn posted a story!

replies:

lilymhe WHP IS YOUE DEALER PLS 🙏

↳ whoisyn lemme ask charles

francisca.cgomes feel better bby <3

↳ whoisyn thank you so much ily ily ily ❤️

logansargeant i still have like 3 bags of hot cheetos and those nerds things for you from when you asked me to grab you some when i had a layover in new york

↳ whoisyn omg i forgot abt those! i'll get them next week if u bring em. ty ty.

alex_albon lily wanted me to ask you who your dealer is? she said you'd know what she meant

↳ whoisyn oh my bad pookie i forgot...but charles said he just has a stash of american snacks at his place for me. i'll bring her some next weekend tho dw ❤️

↳ alex_albon THANK YOU OMG I COULD KISS YOU RN - lily

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you cut through one of the alleyways out of street view once you noticed someone had been recording you as you walked through the streets of monaco. most of the time you managed to sneak through the city without being spotted but today you had to make a trip to the mall where a handful of people recognized you immediately. as someone who was never in the public eye and lived as a "regular" person you were still getting used to people recognizing you and following you around. time and time again you'd gone viral for your fan responses when they asked for pictures or autographs, usually a laugh and "why, i'm not the famous one?" you were genuine with your interactions and were known for helping fans get autographs or deliver fan letters to charles at grand prix weekends. although you enjoyed this aspect of his fanbase, sometimes it was too much and you just wanted to live in peace like you used to. so you'd learned every back road and sidewalk to your shared apartment for quick escapes.

the alleyway was quiet and away from the few people that were walking and talking beside you. just as you were to round a corner you heard a soft meow. stopping dead in your tracks you looked around confused to where the sound was coming from. there was silence then another meow, and another, and another until you realized a small orange cat a few meters away was the culprit. the tiny kitten was shaking and wet in some fluid you only hoped was water, but by the smell it was definitely sewage, pipe, or garbage juice. you wrinkled your nose and held the helpless fur ball in your palm, "shit...what the fuck do i do?" the kitten nibbled on your thumb and you stretched your finger away, "don't do that i don't want rabes or whatever cats can carry." you looked over your shoulder and sighed, "well i guess i have a cat now... let's go."

once back in your apartment you put the small kitten in your bathroom tub on an old rag. the small animal meowed and mewed the entire time you rinsed it off with the only soap you had that was safe according to google. instead of drying it's fur with your blowdryer you just towel dried it which he continued meowing. you'd never had a cat and didn't know what it meant when kittens meowed so you just started rambling, "well that's so interesting you feel that way because i literally said the same thing too! like i don't even know why that would make sense because when you really think about it they always want you to think that but in reality the truth is the complete opposite of what they want you to believe." the orange kitten looked at you with its head turned to the side and you sighed, "i don't know what you want from me man i just met you." the cat meowed louder and you mumbled, "that was definitely a cuss word but i'll let it slide."

an hour later you had given the kitten a small amount of some canned tuna and it fell asleep curled into your neck against the towel you kept it wrapped in.

charles entered your apartment with his eyes on his phone as he called out, "i'm home- oh." he usually expected you to be in your room so when you were out in the main room on the sofa he was startled. you sipped from the smoothie you'd gotten from the fridge and looked up from the book you were reading, "hi baby." charles stared at the kitten on your chest then back at you, "hi beautiful." he waited for you to say anything about the new addition and when you didn't he prompted, "what do you have there?" you looked at your hand and held up the cup, "a smoothie." you took a long sip and the straw crackled loudly, "oh yeah i figured out how to make that one hailey bieber has at that overpriced place in LA. it's actually really good i see why people lost their shit over it."

your boyfriend nodded slowly and pointed to the kitten on you, "my love, please tell me why is there a cat on you." for a minute you looked at him as if he was making it up but then you realized you never got around to actually texting him what happened. he waited for you to explain because the story had to be good if you, notorious anti-pet owner, came home with a cat and let it sleep on you.

you told him while looking at the kitten, "yeah, you're a daddy now." charles replied with too much ease, "i know that you call me that but that cat does not." you looked up with an exasperated glare, "can you be serious for one minute please." charles chuckled and apologized, "okay okay you go, tell me why i am now both of your daddys." you raised your hand to throw one of the clean rags you hadn't used at him which he shielded his face from, "okay i'm sorry go ahead." as you retold the entire thing charles just stood there with a fond smile, finding the whole ordeal quite amusing. at the end of your story he reached for the kitten and pulled back his hand, "why is it slippery?" you answered, "i put coconut oil on it so it didn't get ashy." charles started laughing once more and you smacked his shoulder lightly, "hey i never had a pet besides a fish okay! i'm trying my best here." charles pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your lips, "and you're going to be a great cat mom too, you've already done a good thing."

whoisyn

liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and 44,304 others

whoisyn happy birthday son to my son chisme octavius nortorious C.A.T. l/n-leclerc

view all 12, 079 comments

username1 WE THOUGHT IT WAS JUST CHISME LMAO WHY WOULD YOU NAME HIM ALL THAT-

whoisyn chisme bc if you pretend to gossip he'll immediately listen and start spilling tea too. octavius because charles said it sounded regal, and notorious C.A.T. for the culture.

↳ username2 LMAO YALL KINDA ATE NGL

charles_leclerc my two loves ❤️

username2 i need limited edition chisme x ferrari merch @/scuderiaferrari

↳ scuderiaferrari 👀

olliebearman i miss my brother

↳ whoisyn he misses you too <3

username3 i remember when y/n first found him, i can't believe he's a year old already :( he's so big now

username4 i thought charles said he wanted a dog

↳ whoisyn well i didn't find a dog, i found a cat. so we have a cat.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the video had circulated on twitter only a few hours after it dropped and you'd noticed your name trending on the internet. after making the mistake of checking why you were trending once, you'd never really paid much attention to it again. the first time many people were shaming you for dating your boyfriend and making jabs at your physical appearance. rather quickly you realized it would be better to just keep up with silly memes your friends sent to you opposed to stalking every corner of the internet to see what people were saying about you.

this specific instance was charles in an interview and he'd mentioned you briefly while playing a game of this or that:

"do you prefer a weekend getaway to the coast for a snorkeling trip or the mountains for a skiing adventure?" the interviewer quizzed charles on his current vacation preferences. the driver asked, "is this by myself or with people?" the interviewer answered with a small smirk, "you and one other person- can be anyone, best friend, sibling, girlfriend, mom, etc." charles let out a laugh and knew what the interviewer was getting at and chose to went along with it for fan service. he thought for a moment then answered, "i think the snorkeling trip, my girlfriend likes this kind of thing with the fish, sea animals, and the diving in the water. that and she is better of a skier and snowboarder than me so..." out of the frame the interviewer laughed and joked, "a little mermaid moment, i love it."

you looked at the video and laughed when you noticed the small hello kitty band aid on his hand. earlier that week he'd gone with you out to the sea and you'd found a small cove to swim around in. somewhere along the way back charles had cut his hand on a rock and you'd put a little band aid on it from the only stash you had, and he had no complaints over the pink cartoon design. he found it cute and whenever he looked at it he was reminded of you.

whoisyn

liked by charles_leclerc, sanrio, and 53, 432 others

whoisyn oh, he look so cute wrapped around my finger 🎀

view all 12,855 comments

username1 SLIDES 5 AND 6-

alex_albon drop the link for the shirt

username2 CHARLES GOT THAT SHIT AWNNNN 😤😤😤

↳ comment pinned by creator

hellokitty we love to see this 🤩

↳ whoisyn omg pls sponsor me 😍

↳ sanrio check DM! ❤️

f1 i'd play mermaids there

↳ whoisyn we did 🤭

↳ landonorris WITHOUT ME? 😞

↳ danielricciardo X 2 💔

↳ georgerussell X 3 😪

↳ whoisyn my bad...next time we'll send a text

username3 oh baby he's down bad

username4 no way in hell she got this man in hello kitty pants after a long day of playing mermaids 💀

↳ username5 just say ur a loser who doesn't know how to have fun

comment has been liked by creator

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the end.

[sturniqlo]

In Between- M.S

summary: with their usual bickering, Y/n and Chris escalate into a heated argument and Matt has to break up a fight between his girlfriend and his brother

cw: angst, cursing, crying, fluff at the end

an: thank you to @ik33pitundercover for this wonderful idea (if you have any idea pls comment them here or in my 'send requests' in my bio and i might make them happen!)

masterlist

-----------------------------------------------

Before Matt and Y/n got together, it was always Chris and Y/n the bestest of friends. Though they never had any feelings for each other, they were always together. Everyone always told them they had a sibling like relationship. And they both agreed. They constantly bickered, pushed each other around playfully, just everything siblings would do. Eventually, the two other brothers, Nick and Matt, also became close with Y/n.

A couple of month of hanging out one on one, Y/n and Matt ended up dating. And Chris couldn't be happier. His brother and best friend were both together what more could he ask for?

Earlier today, Chris had texted Y/n if she was down to hangout. She politely declined, telling Chris she was going to hangout with Matt for most of the day. He understood and responded to her that he'll probably hangout with his other friends. He was a bit bummed to say the least. Chris can't remember the last time him and Y/n hung out one on one. Not that he was jealous of her and Matt, never. He just wanted to spend some time with his best friend.

After messaging Y/n, he didn't text any of his other friends, too upset to even hang out with anyone else. As the day went on, Nick had came into Chris' room to ask if he wanted to go hangout with him and Madi, he declined. When the afternoon came by, he ordered takeout and ate his taco bell. After eating he hopped on fortnite and played a couple of rounds before deciding to take a nap.

Y/n spent the whole morning and afternoon with Matt. Although she did feel a bit bad for declining Chris, Matt reassured her and told her Chris would be fine. Around ten in the morning, she picked Matt up in her car, and drove them to their usual breakfast spot. They shared each others plate and were both bloated with good food at the end of it. During their breakfast time, Matt had mentioned how Chris had seemed a bit down as of lately. "Do you think it's because you haven't hung out with him?" He said while taking a bite of his pancake. "I've hung out with him. We were all together last weekend." She replied.

"Yeah, I get that but, I mean one on one." Matt didn't mind at all when his brother and girlfriend hung out one on one. He liked that she had a good relationship with Chris and Nick. "Oh, yeah, I see it now. Maybe I can plan something with him next week? If he want to, that is." That conversation was a couple of hours ago. The time was now nearing five in the afternoon and Nick had called Matt that he was staying over at Madi's. "Do you think Chris is home?" Matt asked as they picked out the ingredients for tonight's activity. "Not sure, he texted me earlier that he might hang out with some of his friends."

Y/n and Matt had spent the afternoon at her place watching movies and playing games. Y/n ended up making them lunch, and here they are now in the grocery store. They had both agreed the would make something at Matt's house so Y/n can drive back to her place when she was ready to go. Matt was a bit bummed that she couldn't stay the night but understood that she had an exam early in the morning. "Wait, let me get Chris a pack of Pepsi. He told me he was running low yesterday." Y/n said, pushing the cart towards the soda isle.

"He seriously needs to cut down on the Pepsi. But we just keep feeding into it." Matt wrapped his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. "I agree."

Chris woke up to the sound of a loud bang followed by laughter coming from upstairs in the kitchen. He checked his phone and saw it was almost six in the afternoon. He had slept for about an hour and a half. Confused about the loud bang, he got up to check. Coming up the stairs half awake, he saw Y/n on the floor cleaning up what looked to be some sort of dessert batter. "The fuck happened in here?" Chris said, startling Y/n. "Oh shit! Chris what the hell, you scared me." Y/n stood up from her spot on the floor. "My bad." Chris scoffed, going to the fridge.

"I thought you were going out today?" She threw the many stained paper towels in the trash. "I was going to but, you declined." He threw some shade at her. "I told you I was sorry, Matt had this planned for a couple of days now." She said, walking away to go retrieve their mop. "Where's Matt anyways?" He asks, as Y/n fills up the mop bucket. "He spilled his cake batter on the floor and it got all over him so he went to shower."

"Oh, well clean this mess up then. It not gonna clean itself up." He points to the remaining with his water bottle. "Woah, who put a stick up your ass?" Y/n was taken back a bit. Most of the time she could tell when Chris was joking when saying rude comments because he always smiled and tries not to laugh whenever he says them, so does she, but, he seemed serious about this one. "Stop playing around. Are you going to clean it or not?" Chris slightly raises his voice. Y/n's eyebrows furrow.

"Okay, You've never talked to me like that and I'm not going to let you talk to me like that." She stops filling the bucket up and stares at Chris with a confused glare. What has gotten into him? "Whatever." He scoffs, as he starts walking towards his set of stairs. "Hey, no! You come back here and tell me what this is all about." She tells him, she slowly starts getting mad. "I'm not a fucking child for you to be talking to me like that." He fights back. "Well you're acting like one right now." She crosses her arms. "Just leave me alone and enjoy your time with my brother. Seems like he's the only one you've known for years."

"Is this about us not hanging out as much anymore?" She says as Chris turns back around to face her. "What do you think? You get with my brother and now you forget about me? Was being my friend just an act to get to Matt?" Chris yells. "Are you hearing yourself right now?" Y/n yells back, and she sees Matt walk in with wet hair. "What's going on." Chris turns his head to see who was talking. "Oh look, your boyfriend is back, looks like you won't be needing me this evening." He smiles sarcastically.

"You're being a fucking dick right now." She walks closer to him. "Woah, okay. Let's- why don't you two settle down. And talk without yelling." Matt intervenes and steps in the middle of the arguing pair. "Matt, move. Chris is being unreasonable and isn't thinking before he speaks." Y/n tries to move Matt out of the way. "Babe, hey, calm down. Tell me what happened."

"He came up the stairs and just started being rude to me. He's mad about me and him not hanging out as much. When he could've just told me in a nicely manner." Y/n leans her head at the last part to where Chris can see her. Chris only rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you always tell me you're busy. Seems like you have time for everyone else besides me. I hope you're happy Matt, considering the fact that you ruined our friendship." Matt turns around. "Chris, I didn't ruin no friendship and your friendship with Y/n isn't ruined."

"Matt do you know what he said to me?" Matt shakes his head. "Oh, please enlighten him, Y/n." Chris says mockingly, she only rolls her eyes at him. "If you keep rolling em' they're going to get stuck." Chris adds. "Chris, stop it." Matt turns his head towards him "Go on." Matt tells her. "He told me that I only became friends with him to get with you. Can you believe that? He doesn't know the shit he's saying!"

"Chris? Do you really think that low of her?" Matt is shocked by all of this. He's never seen Chris and Y/n argue this bad. And it's making him upset that he's in the middle of this. "I'm starting to." Chris' comment ticks Y/n off. "That's it, I'm out of here." Y/n grabs her purse and phone and pushes through them. "Y/n come back." Matt gently grabs her arm. "I can't be in the same room as him right now. Not when he's acting all bitchy."

"I'm not acting bitchy, so get your facts straight." Chris adds on to her anger. "Chris that's enough." Matt raises his voice at his brother. "Here, come to my room to cool down and I'll talk to Chris, okay?" Matt softly talks to Y/n as he sees that she near bursting into tears. He knows she hates arguing with anybody. "Okay, okay." She whispers walking off to Matt's room, not making eye contact with her best friend.

Once Matt hears his room door close he starts going off on Chris. "What was that all about." He points to his room where Y/n is. "An argument, dumbass." Chris makes a smart mouth comment. "You know you could've talked to her like a normal person right? And to accuse her of using you so she could get to me was a low blow." Chris now realizes how bad it sounded. When Y/n entered Matt's room, she sat on his bed and let her tears out. She's never fought with Chris this bad. Yeah, they might've had a little argument or two over something small, but it never got to this point where someone had to intervene.

"Sorry, I got carried away. It's just, I miss hanging out with her. I feel like she's slowly forgetting about me ever since you two started dating." Chris says, wiping his eyes to prevent his tears to come down. "She's not forgetting about you, trust me. We always talk about whenever we hangout. And, she's also noticed how you two haven't been hanging out as much. Also, Im sorry for hogging her for months now." Matt tells Chris, earning a light chuckle from him at the last comment.

"Why don't you go in there and talk to her while I clean this up, okay?" Chris nods and starts walking towards Matt's room where Y/n currently is. He lightly knocks before opening the door. "Hey." Chris says, walking towards the bed to sit next to her. "Hi." She says, lifting her head off her knees. "I'm sorry about everything I said out there. I know you didn't use me to get to Matt. That was stupid of me to say." He shakes his head thinking back on it. "I just felt like you were forgetting about me and I was upset and let out my anger on you instead of talking to you like a normal person would." Y/n finally looks at him. "I'm sorry you felt that way. But, I also wish I would've realized it sooner, it would've prevented this whole shit show."

"Do you forgive me?" He asks lowly. "Of course I do, you're my best friend." After a couple of minutes basking in the comfortable silence, Matt finally walks in. "Nobody has been killed, I'm guess you two made up?" He takes a seat next to Chris. "Yup, we're good now." Matt smiles at that. "That's great, how about tomorrow you two spend the whole day together after Y/n is done with her exam?" Both Y/n and Chris liked the idea of that. "That sounds nice. What do you think, Chris?" Y/n asks Chris. "I'm up for it."

"Come on, let's go bake the boxed cake since I spilt the other one." He stands up and sits in the middle of them wrapping his arms around both of them. "That's the first ever biggest fight, definitely going into the book."

"Shut up!" Chris and Y/n say in unison and laugh.

[ssentimentals]

come and get your love {kim mingyu}

pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader

prompt: arranged marriage! AU, in which mingyu is a popular dj and fem!reader is a famous news reporter. it gets worse before it gets better.

warnings: none! it's not the usual sweet/fluffy stuff everyone is used from me though.

one.

mingyu stares at the window and wonders if he's ever heard of someone jumping out from the sixth floor. surely someone did, right? and they probably stayed alive, right?

'focus.' wonwoo hisses next to him, jamming his elbow hard to mingyu's right side.

mingyu blinks back to the present, looking at the contract in front of him. his sign looks almost foreign on it and to be honest the more he looks at it, the more this whole 'jumping out of the window on sixth floor' idea starts looking great. mingyu turns his head and his gaze lands on you. the only person here with who he's unfamiliar and isn't this ironic? how most unfamiliar person for him in this room is about to become the closest person to him in his life?

'thank you.' your voice is clear and you even muster a smile to the lawyer. a fake one, but still a smile. 'can we get going now?'

'where are hurrying, oh the love of my life?' mingyu asks, raising his voice to sound more dramatic. 'my legal wife, my petal-' wonwoo elbows him hard but mingyu keeps going. 'don't you want to get to know your husband more?'

mingyu waits with baiting breath for your reaction. it's a test from him, sort of. depending on how you'll react he is going to correct his behavior later on. your eyes bore into him with no emotion, nothing on your face betrays how you're feeling. staring at him for few seconds, you simply stand up and walk away, not gracing him with any kind of reply. wonwoo sighs like he's dying next to him but mingyu pays him no mind; he saw your eyes and despite how well you tried to hid it, he saw it - emotion. and he is going to see it again.

two.

'is that wall really that more interesting than me?' mingyu asks, turning towards you. 'it can't be.'

he watches as you slowly turn, facing him. it's been a week since he last saw you and now that you two are back together for fittings, he can't help it. mingyu is not sure what's wrong with him but something about you makes him itchy. he wants to poke you, annoy you, ask you questions, talk to you - anything to get your attention. and when he has it now in form of your raised eyebrow, he can't help but grin. 'so. anything you want to ask from me, my wife?'

your lips twitch and he spent too much time with wonwoo to be able to recognize when someone is trying to hide a smile - it's exactly what you're doing right now. he probs even further: 'i wonder if you're one of those sirens. do you think your voice will lure me in and that's why you're staying silent?'

you uncross your legs and his eyes zero on that motion, focusing a bit too hard on how pretty and long they are. how good they look in those black straight jeans. how nicely they'd look wrapped around-

'it is,' you say, voice not as cold as last time but still rather emotionless. 'the wall, i mean. it is more interesting than you.'

mingyu fakes a gasp, clutching at his chest in an horribly outstaged offence. 'i'll have you know, i'm plenty interesting.' there's a smirk in the corner of your lips and it's such a sexy look on you that mingyu gets thrown off for a second. 'c'mon, ask me something.'

you sigh like he's the biggest annoyance in your life but mingyu sees the way you're biting your inner cheek in order not to smile and he's winning. he's so, so winning. 'mingyu,' you start and he likes the way you say his name. 'are you very upset that there'll be no more parties on ibiza with some hot models for you? now, that you have a wife?'

mingyu blinks. icy chills run down his spine and it's a struggle to keep his expression neutral. 'keeping tabs on me, wifey?' he asks, going for lighthearted but he's too tense to make it look natural.

you roll your eyes, huffing. 'no need to, you're doing a great job by being on every single news portal yourself.'

and it's true, that's the thing. mingyu is a popular dj, of course he's where the party is and yes, in the nice company of pretty people most of the time. but the way you said it - like he's some dirt on your shoes, like you think his whole life is only this, like you know him already when you don't know a damn thing about him - makes him angry. livid, even. he should say something back, something equally bad, but then designer walks in and you two are picture perfect couple again. mingyu kind of hates it. he also hates how he can't even hide the awe in his eyes when you walk out in a white dress, looking stunning.

three.

thunder rolls in with all its might, showing exactly why all flights are cancelled. mingyu watches how mother nature reminds everyone who's actually in charge here, while you're busy stressing out at the background. he turns, focusing on the way you zip and then unzip your bag, grabbing laptop from it with a big sigh. before he can even think it through, question is out of his mouth: 'how can i help you?'

you freeze. you look shocked when you turn to him and he doesn't blame you - it's weird to ask that when both of you are not speaking terms exactly. 'what?' you ask, stuttering a bit. it's kinda cute. 'you want to help me?' mingyu nods. 'why?'

god, you really never want to make anything easy for him, do you? 'because maybe i'm not an asshole you think i am?' mingyu tries but you don't budge. 'fuck, okay. is this how our marriage-'

'fake marriage,' you but in.

'fake marriage is going to be?' mingyu asks. 'we will not talk to each other and you will react like i'm trying to poison you every time i bring you tea? aren't you tired of this?' mingyu moves closer to you. in this huge hotel room you look so small, especially when you wrap arms around yourself like you're doing now. 'our flight got cancelled, but you're stressing out here like our wedding did. i asked a simple question and you're acting like-' he throws his hands in the air, loss of words. you stare back at him, guarded and he suddenly wants to give up. 'actually, nevermind. i'm going to take next room, text me if there'll be any updates about flights.'

mingyu is.. emotionally drained. whenever he tried to take steps towards you all he was met with was a concrete wall. he knows your first meeting could've gone better but the way you're shutting him down is brutal. he grabs his bag and moves to another room, when you softly call out his name. and maybe he shouldn't give in so easily, but it's you and he's ready for anything to get you to talk to him.

'i'm sorry,' you mumble quietly, looking up and meeting his gaze. 'i just- flight is cancelled and we will be late for all our appereances tomorrow and people will be angry-'

'they all will wait,' mingyu interrupts. is this what got you so stressed? you thinking that some people will be angry at you? mingyu instantly despises this idea, you thinking that some people have this power over you. 'they will wait however the fuck they need to wait for us, okay?' a suspicion creeps in his mind. 'did someone say something to you?' the way your eyes widen is an answer enough. 'who?' mingyu asks, raising his voice a little. 'tell me who.'

his voice and tone is firm enough for you to just give him your phone with a message thread with one of the directors of tv channel open. mingyu reads through the messages and grits his teeth so hard, his jaw clicks. 'let me talk to him,' he looks back at you, pleading for you to give permission. 'please. no one should ever talk to you in this way. let me talk to him and i will remind him his place.'

mingyu probably looks very scary right now, but he doesn't care; how dare someone speak to you like that? how dare someone make you this stressed? you nod and mingyu quickly goes to get his phone, typing number of that director. he walks out to call him without noticing sincere small smile playing on your face.

four.

it goes better after that. you two are talking and it's a big win for mingyu. one week full of tv appereances and interview recordings flies in a blink of an eye with your company, especially when you open up to him more and more. mingyu thinks marrying someone who is this smart and funny is not the worst thing in the world.

five.

two weeks till the wedding and mingyu takes you out on your first real date. or well, you don't know yet that this is a date but he's about to drop that bomb soon. the restaraunt is nicely lit, food is delicious and the way candle lights dance on a naked skin of your shoulders in this dress makes him a bit dizzy.

'is this a date?' you ask, looking up at him when waiter brings dessert.

mingyu likes having your eyes on him. he always wanted your attention and now that he has it, he never wants to lose it. he reaches out for your hand, smiling when you let him interlace your fingers together. 'yes, for me. i'd love it if you'll treat it as one, too.'

your eyes are mesmerizing. how mingyu is supposed to concentrate on anything else when you're looking at him like that? your thumb gently caresses his skin. 'it's a date for me too.'

six.

it's all very new. mingyu is not in a rush but he really doesn't want the first time he kisses you to be the wedding so yeah, maybe he is in a rush. it's not like you're complaining though.

'easy there, cowboy,' you giggle, when he pushes you against the door of his bentley. 'what's got you so worked up?'

'you in this dress,' mingyu mutters, leaving small kisses on your neck. 'you dancing to my dj sets. you being next to me. you, just you.' mingyu stops right in front of your lips, practically vibrating with need to learn your taste. 'let me. fuck, please let me, i-'

you kiss him first. and it's everything he thought it'd be and then some more. mingyu kisses back, devours you whole against that car and leaves a stinging bite on your lower lip when he finally pulls back. he brings your foreheads together, breathing heavily. 'we could've been doing this from the start if you didn't act like you had a stick up your ass.'

'fucker,' you mutter, slapping his bicep but with no real heat behind it. 'get off me.' you push him gently and when mingyu steps away, you smile. three days till the wedding and mingyu already is not sure how he's going to survive them without your kisses. 'thanks for the night, mingyu. you were amazing up there.'

mingyu preens, something warm fills his body at your praise of his skills. he knows he's a damn good dj but hearing this from you means so much more. 'i'll see you tomorrow?' he asks, smiling.

you burst out laughing. 'yes, mingyu, i'm not going to skip my own wedding.'

mingyu grins, not wanting to admit how relieved he is to hear this. 'just checking.'

seven.

true to your word, you don't skip the wedding. you are there, looking like an angel in the white dress, making mingyu's heart want to jump out of his ribcage. you kiss sweetly by the applause from everyone and mingyu holds you tight during your first dance.

'forever with me, aren't you excited?' mingyu asks, gently swaying you.

'two years by the contract don't sound like forever,' you say, grinning. 'getting a bit ahead of yourself, mister.'

'what can i say, i'm very confident.' mingyu spins you once, twice and then pushes you back into his arms, right where you belong. 'your heart eyes are giving you away, by the way.'

your laugh is quickly becoming his favorite sound. he smiles too at your giggles. 'you're not exactly being subtle either,' you say playfully. 'happy that you got me in the end, mingyu?'

mingyu leans in, capturing your smile in a sweet kiss. cameras are going crazy and people around are clapping, thinking that it's all fake but it's the single most real thing in his life. 'you have no idea how.'

a/n: this was a request from anon like month ago and i got around it only now, i'm sorry :( hopefully whoever requested this is happy with how it turned out, cause i kinda like it <3 - nini

my other seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here

[ponderingmoonlight]

Haruta seeking revenge on Nanami's heavy pregnant wife

Pairing: husband!Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: When Haruta hears about Nanami's wife, he is more than delighted to search and kill her. He didn't think about (y/n)'s very own abilities and her furious husband though.

Warnings: injury, language, pregnancy, really angry hot Nanami, not 100% proofread as I have to get going now and won't be able to publish this today otherwise

Tags: @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @dazaisdick @sanicsmut @arehzhera @mynahx3 @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @wifenanami @arehzhera @mysuperrainbow @nanami-s-sunshine @nervoussongcherryblossom

You.

His heart almost beats out of his chest just thinking about the things these creatures are able to do. You live here, at Shibuya. When Nanami received the call about what is going on here, he instructed you to stay home with all doors closed. After all, you are heavy pregnant with his child. Despite being a great jujutsu sorcerer, you shouldn’t be on the streets right now. No harm should ever come to you.

But right now, you aren’t replying to any messages your husband sends you, not a single sign of life.

He yanks the blonde-haired man up by his ponytails, on the brick of losing his temper completely. Not only did this thing kill countless of his comrades on its way, but maybe him and his comrades did something to you. Why would you not reply to his countless messages? If they hurt a single hair on your precious body…

Nanami slams him into a nearby building with full force. Despite the abilities of that man, he won’t be able to survive that.

“Did you receive any sign from (y/n)?”, Nanami questions towards the two girls, kneeling in front of Nitta to inspect her wounds.

They might look bad, but she’ll survive if she sees Shoko within the next hours.

“No. No sign at all”, Nitta mumbles.

Everyone knows about the value you hold for Kento Nanami. No wonder, after all you are his precious wife, the only human being on this earth who is able to make his features soften and steal a smile from him. Yes, you are truly special to him. And the fact that you are not replying…Nobara swallows, the look on his face sending shivers down her spine. You should have been evacuated, out of Shibuya, maybe staying at Jujutsu High as long as the fight goes on. But it was already too late, it would be way too dangerous to leave now.

“What is going on?”, he mutters to himself.

“I’m sure your wife is fine. She’s tough, someone like that loser wouldn’t be able to bring her down.”

His eyes dart towards Nobara. Yes, she’s right. You have to home. Maybe you just fell asleep. The pregnancy made you tired all the time. Probably you’re laying on the couch, the chaos around you completely unnoticed. Yes, that’s how it must be.

“I am sure he wasn’t alone. Maybe someone found one of his accomplices. It’s best we bring them down before they cause more trouble. ”

Nanami strictly forbid you to go out on the streets. And that’s what you do, laying on the couch with the blanket your precious husband wrapped you in pulled up to the nose. You just woke up from a heavy sleep, lifting yourself up just a bit to look out of the window.

“What is going on down there?” you mutter to yourself.

Please, let Kento be alright. He promised to return to you, that nothing major will happen. Oh, how much you wished you could help. Your hands caress your swollen belly softly. Fighting is no option at the moment, though. All you can do is say here in safety until they successfully exorcised all courses around Shibuya. You sign to yourself, lids already hanging so low that you are on the brick of passing out again. After this nap, you’ll definitely call him.

“Still no sign…”, Nanami mumbles, the only response being your angelic voice which directs him to your mailbox.

“Maybe she’s just sleeping, after all (y/n) is pregnant, right? Would you like to call someone to look after her? Your shared apartment is only two blocks away, right?”, Nitta suggests.

“I can look after her!” Nobara interjects immediately.

“No, that wouldn’t be wise. We still have to look after the other assistance directors. There’s no way he worked alone. When the area is safe, I will go and look after her myself”, Nanami responses before putting his phone back.

You always sleep around this time. Surely everything is alright. After all, no one knows where he lives…right?

Haruta smiles to himself, body not moving an inch before the steps of his three opponents are gone.

“Your pregnant wife, huh? So killing her counts as a double kill, how exciting!”

-at your apartment-

Your eyes snap open immediately. The energy around you completely changed. What you feel here…Your whole body is tense, hands clenched into fists. That’s cursed energy, without any doubt.

As fast as possible you lift yourself off the couch, grabbing your throwing knives placed underneath the couch. When Kento got the call, you knew this has to be something big, that you might not be safe at Shibuya anymore.

“I know how much I’m asking from you, but please stay here and lock the door. At this point it would be even more dangerous to leave. Promise that you’ll be careful, sweetheart.”

Your husband wrapped his arms tightly around you, careful not to squeeze your sensitive belly in the process.

“I know my limits, Kento. I would never risk the life of our child for a fight. As much as I’d love to help you out, I will stay here until you tell me it’s over”, you assured him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before he left your apartment with one last loving look back.

Kento. You should give him a call, at least message him about what you feel. As fast as possible you type his number, eyes darted towards the entrance. There isn’t much time left, whatever is on its way here will soon arrive.

“(y/n), I was dead worried about you. Are you alright?”

“Someone’s here. Someone with heavy cursed energy, Kento. I will do what I can, but-“

“Did you really think a locked door would be enough to keep your enemies out of here? Oh, look at you, congrats for putting a baby inside you! That was that blonde-haired man, wasn’t it? Y’know, I’m here because of him, so better be thankful. Come on, don’t look at me like that, let me give you a hug.”

Instinctively, you let your phone fall to the ground, your throwing knives leaving your fingertips at horrendous speed. As fast as possible you seek shelter behind your couch, escaping his blade just in time before he’s able to pierce through your shoulder.

Normally, you would have been able to dodge his attack easily, but with that heavy belly of yours, every sudden movement feels like a burden. You depend on your husband’s help, that’s for sure. The man with the blonde ponytail and ruptured face might not be an impossible strong opponent, but you are restricted. And one single hit might not only mean that he hurts you, but also your unborn baby…

You furrow your brows, eyes busy analysing his moves.

“You know who’s responsible for how wrecked up my face looks? Your husband! He even pulled my hair”, the man in front of you cries out, sword just about to hit you when you escape his force just in time.

“I get it, you have a really kickable face after all”, you press out, grabbing your katana under the kitchen table to dodge his attack.

You huff heavily, lungs feeling as if they’ll burst every minute while you taste blood on your tongue. Fuck, this is more strenuous than expected. Your baby kicks you uncomfortably in your guts, making you see stars for a second. A second in which he is able to place another hit, a second in which he is able to brush over your forehead with enough force to make your skin burst.

All you see is red, blood taking your sight almost completely. With a swift motion you try to wipe it away, try to get a hold of yourself. But before you are even able to breathe again, he forces his blade against yours.

“He’s already on his way, I would shit my pants if I was you”, you hiss through gritted teeth, jumping onto the table in order to have the higher ground.

You feel so damn tired. The heavy weight on your belly, the fact that you have to pee again and that you haven’t trained in ages. You aren’t dumb, you are very aware of the fact that you are fucked right now. But you know Kento heard you, that he is already on his way. You just have to fight back a little while longer…

“Oh, don’t worry about me”, he casually replies.

You stare at his empty hands, eyes wide open in horror. Where the hell did his sword go? Did he lose it while the both of you were fighting? No, you didn’t hit him so hard, this can’t be. But where-

A toe-curling scream escapes your lips when a scorching pain runs through your left thigh. You don’t dare to look don’t, this just has to be his blade.

“How?” you breathe out.

Calm your breathing, calm your pounding heart. You have to keep going, you have to-

Suddenly your shoulder bursts open, blood spilling over your husband’s shirt. You can’t breathe, whole body on fire. His sword, it’s still stuck in your shoulder. Just when it’s about to move out again, you grab the blade with your naked hands to stop it from piercing through you again, your sharp and fast breaths hanging in the air.

“Come on, why stop now when it’s getting funny? I was aiming for your fat belly next”, the guy in front of you complains with a pout.

Blood rushes through your ears, glossy eyes fixated on him in front of you.

“But fine, if you want it that way, I will use my own hands.”

Fuck, what are you supposed to do? If you let go of the sword that cuts through your palms, he will stab your unborn child. But if you lay here and do nothing, he will punch your belly with full force. You have to make a decision, you have to save your unborn child, the child you and Kento awaited for years now. The look on his face when he found out, the tears of joy that pooled his eyes…

You can’t die here. And so does your child.

With the last force you have left in your body, you kick his chest while still holding onto his sword tightly. Fuck, every movement hurts like hell, your blood spilled on the carpet you bought a few weeks ago. You can’t do this any longer, you need to get out of here, you-

“You have some nerves.”

His sheer presence is enough to make the man in front of you stop in his tracks.

“Kento…”, you mumble, wave of relief washing over you.

He’s here, your knight in shining armour, your loving husband. You did it. You held on just long enough.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson by now. Didn’t I teach you what you get for the things you do?”

His whole body is tense, the muscles underneath his shirt to tight that they might burst every minute. Kento grabs the neck of the man who attacked you earlier with full force, dragging him across the room.

“Give up and die already”, Kento hisses.

Tears start to pool this man’s eyes, staring at your husband with wide eyes while he throws him through the bursting window, down onto the streets of Shibuya, over 10 floors.

Without hesitation he hurries to your side, hand gently cupping your cheek. The threatful man from only seconds ago is gone in the wind. What is left is your loving husband who caresses your belly softly, lines of worry decorating his face while scanning over your bloody body.

“Don’t worry, this is nothing Shoko can’t fix. The…the baby is fine…”, you huff out.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. I thought he was dead already, never did I imagine that…”

“Don’t think about it too much, Kento. This is in no way your fault. The most important thing is that the baby is fine. That’s all that matters.”

“But you matter too, (y/n). You are the love of my life. When you called me and I heard his voice, a part of me died. That he was able to injure you, that he put his hands on your delicate skin…I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I love you so much…”

Carefully, he wraps his arms around you and lifts your trembling figure off the ground.

“I love you too. But you have to admit I did pretty well”, you mutter against his chest.

“You definitely did. You are my wife, after all”, Kento replies with a small smile, carrying you to Shoko.

[thegettingbyp2]

Can you do one where jasper hale and the reader are doing the deed and Carlisle and Esme walk in on the thing happening. Thank you ❤️

Also fem reader plz

DRINK WATER thanks love ya

Caught

You whined softly as Jasper’s hips pushed gently into yours again, one of his hands firmly planted on the bed next to your head in order to keep his weight off of your body as his other hand trailed softly along your body. Jasper was getting better with understanding that you weren’t going to snap if he held onto you a bit tighter, but when it came down to sex, he was still terrified of hurting you. Your whine caused Jasper to stop suddenly as he looked down at you, bringing his hand up to your cheek.

‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked, worry filling his eyes.

‘No,’ you replied, running your hands up his chest, gripping onto his shoulders as you pulled yourself up, pressing your chest against his. Jasper brought his arm around your waist to keep you against him as he buried his head into your shoulder, kissing your skin gently. ‘Jasper you’d never hurt me. If you wanted, you could go faster, you know, harder?’ you continued, your cheeks heating up, suddenly glad that he wasn’t able to see your face.

‘(Y/N), I don’t think I’d be able to control myself, I barely have it together at the moment,’ he said, chuckling into your shoulder, his chuckle turning into a groan when he felt you clench around him.

‘I trust you,’ you said, pulling his head up until he was looking at you. ‘You won’t hurt me, please Jasper, it feels so good.’

Jasper looked at you for a few seconds before pressing his forehead to yours. ‘You tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?’

‘I promise,’ you said quickly, nodding your head as he lowered you back down against the bed. You shivered when you felt his grip tighten on you ever so slightly as he thrust into you again, a cry being torn from your lips at the force. Jasper continued to pick up the speed of his thrusts until he had a gasp falling from your lips every time his hips met yours. Dipping his head back down to the column of your throat, your breath stuck as you felt him graze his teeth along your skin, silently wondering what if would feel like if he sunk his teeth into you.

He was so lost in you that he didn’t hear the sounds of Carlisle and Esme coming back home from a hunt. Carlisle and Esme heard the sounds of your cries and instantly ran up the stairs, following the sound to Jasper’s room, afraid that their newest son had lost control while they had been away. When the door opened, Jasper’s gaze shot over to the movement and, upon seeing who it was, pulled out of you and wrapped your naked body in a blanket before you could blink.

‘You’d gone out,’ Jasper said, panting slightly, his body hovering protectively over you.

‘We had, but then we came home,’ Carlisle said, a small smile appearing on his lips.

‘We heard (Y/N) and thought,’ Esme trailed off when he saw the look of sadness and guilt that passed across Jasper’s face.

‘You thought that I’d lost control and hurt her,’ Jasper finished for her. ‘I’m getting better and - ’

The combination of your hand coming to rest gently on Jasper’s cheek and Carlisle’s words cut him off before he could start to get worked up. ‘We know, son. But with a human in a house full of vampires, that’s the first thing that comes to mind when,’ Carlisle gestured in front of him, his shoulders shaking with supressed laughter. ‘But we can go back out, let the two of you, you know,’ he said, smirking slightly as he wrapped his arm around Esme’s shoulders and led her back downstairs, closing the door behind them.

‘You know, for someone with amazing hearing, you probably should have heard them come in,’ you teased, trying to cheer Jasper up. It worked as a small smile replaced that sad frown that had taken over his features and he turned his attention back towards you.

‘Well sorry ma’am if I was a bit distracted,’ he replied, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. ‘I am getting better though right, being around you?’

‘Baby,’ you cooed, tugging him down until he was lying next to you and you curled your body into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. ‘You’re amazing, you didn’t need to get better at anything, you just had to get used to being around me. And based on what was interrupted, you’re definitely used to me being around,’ you said, unable to hide the smirk on your lips.