#I don’t want to be uploaded to the cloud AT ALL

[domini-porter]

back is really backing this morning; chat what do we think it means when the ice pack feels cold everywhere but the part of the spine that hurts

[januaryembrs]

YOU'RE ALL I EVER WANTED | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [bonus chapter]

Description: The one where you realise you like Spencer.

Length: 6.2k

Warnings: mention of when Penelope got shot, but other than that not much. Mentions of sex + body count though there is NO judgement OR SHAMING. Bugsy could be Bisexual/attracted to women if you choose to read it that way, but you don't have to!

authors note: this little bonus chapter is set the week before Emily 'dies' so right before the final second of Chapter Two. Or you can just read this if you'd like to see two morons dancing around their love for one another. Since I’m uploading today, I realised you needed to read part of this for the next big chapter so that is going to take an extra day or so but it is coming! I hope this satiates the bugspence cravings!!

‘You’re the one, you’re all I ever wanted,

I think I’ll regret this,’

It was warm considering it was one of the last days of Winter, one of the warmest Virginia had in years.

Caseload had been ramped up with the amount of children out on the streets with their friends where any nefarious hands could simply snatch them, or young adults got drunk, or worse, in preparation for Spring Break, their inhibitions lowered to zero making them prime prey. And yet, on a random Saturday at the end of February, the sun peeked out from the dishwater grey clouds, the wind died down, and their phones stayed quiet with the promise of a real day off. 

And how better to spend a day away from their office than to meet their co-workers in the park for a game of soccer. 

“Morgan, quit marking me,” Bugsy yelled, dribbling the ball down the small field they’d commandeered as a pitch, four water bottles stood upright on either end as goal points. But Derek’s laugh was menacing, and she heard his footsteps pounding behind her, advancing on her as if they were kids in a playground, and before long he had swooped in front of her, despite her hand waving out in his direction to shove him away.

Emily was about to call her out for contact, not that she expected her little sister to give a shit, but Derek was too fast for even her where she sat on the side lines with Penelope. The ball went careering away from her, Morgan’s quick feet keeping it under much better control than she’d been able to, even with her hot on his heels, and before long he was shooting to where Aaron stood as goalie, just about rolling it past Hotch’s muscled legs into their goal. 

Derek whooped, Will jogged over from the other end of the pitch to fist bump his team mate as the younger woman huffed, her college jumper and shorts clinging to her sweaty body. 

“Sucks to suck, baby Prentiss,” Morgan jeered, shoving her shoulder lightheartedly when she glared at him, “Guess you owe me that drink, which I will be redeeming at the next convenience-” 

“It’s easy to win when you’re two hundred pounds of muscle and your opponent is a girl who hasn’t done sport since high school,” She snapped, her expression grumpy as she fingered the hem of her fleecy top. Derek chuckled, Will returning to sit with JJ as Henry climbed over her legs wanting to play with her long strands of honey blonde hair. He shoulder bumped the girl, hoping to perk up her mood, but she shoved him back as hard as she could, not that it did much since she’d said herself she was sort of out of shape compared to his rock hard abs. 

“Oh, come on now, Bug, don’t be like that,” He said, unphased when she damn near threw her whole body against his, trying to even knock him in the slightest off his feet, her face screwed up in annoyance. “Bugsy.” Derek tried again, only for her to ignore him and try even harder. He didn’t so much as flinch, “Bugsy, you’re being unreasonable,”

She huffed, drawing away from him and glancing at him with a scathing glare. “Okay, terminator, you won this time but I swear one day I’m going to make you pay for taking advantage of such a fragile little woman like me,” 

Emily scoffed, handing her sister a water bottle, “Didn’t you take down an unsub alone yesterday? I mean you didn’t even have cuffs until Spencer showed up-”

“Oh, whose side are you on?” Bugsy snarled, downing a gulp of water and walking back over to where Spencer and JJ were relaxing on a picnic blanket, the former laying on his back with a book spread open using only one of his spindle-like hands. 

“Good game?” He mused, trying to hide his smirk when she groaned in response, throwing herself down on the grass beside him. She wrestled her sweater over her head which left her in a band tee, her chest still rising with panting breaths as she lay down to his right, glaring at the clear sky. 

“Remind me to never play him in sport ever again. The man is a Spartan Warrior,” She huffed, barely glimpsing to where JJ chuckled at her defeated expression. 

“Did you know that the Spartans were actually banned from the Olympics for some time for violating the peace treaty between Sparta and Athens? But one of their athletes entered a chariot race pretending to represent Thebes, a city above Athens in Boeotia, and only when he won did he announce his true identity,” Spencer asked, his nose still buried in his book like he was reciting the very same information off the page. Bugsy’s lips quirked in interest. 

“That’s pretty cool,” She murmured, head flicking over to him where he glanced back at her, finally ripping his attention away from his novel. She blinked at him, his ‘boy band’ hair as so affectionately named by their unit chief, swooping over his forehead with a few soft, chocolate curls that she moved to fix almost immediately. 

She missed the way his eyes rounded in puppy love as she did so, a camouflaged smile twitching at his lips, an onset reaction of the butterflies that swarmed his chest. 

“I like your hair like this,” She said, even though she’d told him a dozen times already his new hair was dashing, as she’d put it, “It makes your eyes look really pretty,” 

He cleared his throat, his cheeks heating up because he couldn’t handle his reactions when she was so forward, “Really? I always thought they were the colour of dirt,” 

Her mouth dropped open, and she shuffled up onto her elbows so they were similar heights, “Spencer Reid, you take that back right now,” 

“Wow, the government name. I must be in trouble,” He mused, gaze falling to the grass beneath them, dropping his book into his lap even though he felt her annoyance poking holes in his skull.

“They are not the colour of dirt, I’ve never heard something so ridiculous,” She scoffed, nudging him with the back of her hand in a soft chide and he snickered, looking back up to where she was staring him straight in the muddy hues of his very plain hazel eyes. “They’re like, they’re like-” She tried to come up with an answer, squinting in the soft sunlight that turned the brown shades into liquid honey running off a spoon, her face  leaning towards his to catch a closer look at the exact pigment of them, “They’re like looking up at a forest on a Summer’s morning, you know? Like when you can see every single one of the leaves because of the light,” 

He nodded wordlessly, because no one had ever said something quite so poetic about any part of him before. He fought the urge to look away, wasn’t sure he could even if he tried because for a second they were both in a trance, dissecting the other’s gaze like they were imprinting their colour palettes to memory. 

“Buggy!” Her head whipped away from him as the blonde headed child came running over to her as fast as his chubby little legs would carry him. He launched himself at her stomach, and her hands quickly caught him before he could wind her, his cheeks rosy behind his bumble bee pacifier. She giggled as he slid down her side, his knees staining with grass as he reached muddy hands out for her face. 

“Woah, not so fast mister. Who knows where these grubby little paws have been,” She teased, and he laughed behind the plastic sucker, his bluebell eyes a near match of JJ’s blinking over at her. 

Spencer watched her and his godson with besotted eyes, imagining for a split second what she might be like as a mother, if she ever chose to be. He knew she would be soft and yet not lose one drop of the Bugsy playfulness he cherished, just instead parting everything that made her extraordinary onto a mini her. 

He saw it, like a flicker of a dream, like deja vu, a girl with her hair, her skin, her smile; the one that was impish and guilty like she had a secret, giggling behind a ladybug dummy the way Henry was doing when she forced his dirty hands together to clap; “Clap your hands if you smell like fairy farts- Henry!” 

The child laughed harder, so hard his pacifier dropped out his mouth with a little dribble, his milk teeth pearly with and tiny in the sun. His chest seized with giggles, his face turning pink as he panted to catch his breath, “You’re so silly, Buggy,”  

JJ swooped in to grab his dummy, giving his hands a quick once over with a baby wipe and packing the sucker back into his bag. Henry’s gaze quickly slid up his mother’s arm to where she lingered over his pack, and he was eager to make himself comfortable leaning against Bugsy’s stomach, legs stretching out onto the blankets, his shoes brushing against Spencer’s trouser leg. 

“Juice, mama!” He shouted, his little voice sweet knowing just how to wrap everyone around his pinky finger, “Juice and Bi’kits!”

“What do we say, Henry?” Will reminded gently, holding the Ben 10 satchel open while his partner rooted around the bottom of it with a loving smile. 

“Please, juice and bi’kits,” The boy replied politely, his feet knocking together out of excitement when JJ produced two red pouches and animal shaped cookies. Stepping over where Spence lay sprawled out, watching Bugsy idly stroking over the back of his godson’s white blonde curls, JJ handed the two of them a drink and snack each, Bugsy’s eyes flying up to the woman in interest. 

“For me?” She asked dumbly, wondering if she was to give the second helping to the boy once he’d finished his first or if it really was hers.

JJ shrugged, moving back over to sit beside Will where he wrapped a lazy arm around her waist, squeezing her gently, “I always pack extra for the other kids,” 

Bug’s face flattened into something unamused as Henry handed Spencer his juice pouch for him to push the straw in, “I’m twenty six, I’m not a kid,” She grouched, ripping open the packet of biscuits and shoving a lion in her mouth, “God, whoever invented these animal shaped pals is genius. Like, why does everything taste so much better when it looks like a monkey smiling up at me?” 

The three of them chuckled at her, Emily and Penelope starting up a new game of soccer with Hotch and Derek, David reffing from the sideline. Penelope was ofcourse with Morgan, looking a little pale where she stood in goal, as Emily ran at her in full force with the ball skipping between her feet.

Spence handed the drink back to the boy, picking his book back up as the two of them crunched on their goodies happily. 

“Story time, Uncle Spencer,” Henry demanded, pointing to the copy of War and Peace in between bites of a zebra cookie. 

And instead of telling his godson that he would almost certainly hate the complex, adult writing of Leo Tolstoy, Spencer smiled down at him, feeling Bugsy’s eyes roving over his face.

“Yeah, storytime, Uncle Spencer,” She jeered, her elbow getting dirty where it dug into the grass as she rolled onto her side to watch him properly, “Never too early to teach the kids about French invasions,” 

Flicking her a smirk, he cleared his throat theatrically, and pretended to read from his book, “Charlotte’s Web by E. B. White,” 

“That’s a real magic book you got there, Spence,” The woman snickered, and he smiled into the pages, not daring himself to look at the devilish look she had on her face. 

“Chapter One; Before Breakfast,” Spencer ‘read’ clearly, his memory still clear as a bell when his mother had read it to him when he was five, “‘Where’s papa going with that axe?’ said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast,” 

Bugsy felt Henry’s head slump against her hip, the boy slurping on his juice pouch happily as she punctured a hole in her own carton to take a sip, the two of them listening intently to Spencer recounting the children’s book to a scary degree of accuracy. 

His slender arms looked good with his sleeves rolled to his elbow, she thought offhandedly, his right elbow taking the brunt of his weight as he leaned on it, the other flicking through the Tolstoy novel as if it were the real thing, his long fingers splayed out on the back of the book to keep it open. His eyes kept darting up over the top of the page to see if they were both still listening, which they were, though Bugsy suspected Henry was starting to get tired as his head felt heavy against her skin. 

Propping her head on her hand, her eyes scanned over the profile of his face. She’d always known he was attractive, ever since she opened her dorm room door at John Hopkins and saw him and Morgan waiting for her. Her stomach twisted thinking about how long ago that seemed, that she couldn’t remember quite what her world had centred around when it had just been her at college; her mother and father were distant as ever, her sister was a stranger that had all but raised her, boys were just a passing face if she ever let them through her door. She’d had her books and maybe two friends, acquaintances would probably be the better term, and her coffee. And that seemed to have been enough, or at least it was enough that she couldn’t outright complain about how lonely she felt.  

And then she met Spencer. And that feeling had disapparated entirely.

Her heart swelled when she looked at him, recounting the beginning of chapter two by now, his forest hues glancing up at Henry’s sleepy, round eyes that watched him in interest. She thought for a moment that whoever his kid was going to be was going to be the luckiest boy in the world. She let herself imagine a boy Henry’s age already devouring books twice his reading age, one with wild, almond curls he’d let grow around his neck like JJ did with Henry’s. She imagined how he would sit him on his lap and let him read the books for himself, so that if he got stuck his dad would be right there to help him behind a proud smile. Spencer; a father. She realised how out of field the thought was before she shook it out of her head, though it had planted itself right in her hypothalamus the second she’d seen the vision of it. 

A small smile twitched at her lips, a warmth in the pit of her stomach flickering as she sipped the juice, giggling when Spencer changed his tone slightly so Henry knew someone new was speaking, seemingly enjoying the book almost as much as his audience was. His eyes snapped to her when he heard her, a devious little smile creeping up his lips like they shared the same thought. She wished she could do this every day, lay on picnic blankets and listen to him read, his voice was heavenly, and she thought she might never get tired of hearing him tell her things. 

Every part of her was consumed when she thought of him like this. It had happened once or twice, like when she’d driven him home from the doctors after they’d cleared his MRI’s, when she’d held his head in her lap on his couch and stroked his scalp, a cold compress over his eyes because his head writhed with a pain he couldn’t squash out. When she’d heard his soft snores as he finally dropped off to sleep and she allowed herself to look at his resting face, perhaps even more angelic than usual, a small indent right between his brows where his expression had been scrunched in discomfort for weeks, one she smoothed over with the soft pad of her thumb. She’d felt something then, like her whole body was full to the brim of him, her chest spasming with a feeling like she was coming down with a cold but one that made her feel good, but she’d brushed it off as seeing him vulnerable and soft compared to the quick as a whip FBI agent she was used to these days. She’d do just about anything for him, anything to make him feel better, anything to just make him happy.

Or when they’d eat breakfast together at his desk, her chair rolled up beside his as they sat together, taking it in turns to do crossword puzzles together because they realised they got competitive when they were allowed to answer all of them at the same time, and Bugsy did not like losing. There had been one morning when they’d descended into madness because they were both trying to write the answers as fast as possible, their hands smashing together over the boxes, her hand shoving his lithe body away as he had called her a cheater through red cheeked laughter. Rossi had confiscated the paper when things had gotten too physical and she’d pulled the lever beneath his chair, lowering his seat quick enough he nearly slipped right out. His coffee spilled all over his desk as his arm flew out to grab his desk, and the sight alone made her laugh so hard she almost peed. He’d pretended to be annoyed at her for all of two minutes as they cleaned up the mess together, but he too had found himself laughing hard enough he was almost in tears because she could barely get two words out without creasing over and holding her stomach in aching barks of noise, the two of them leaning against one another for support. She thought then, if she had breakfast with him every day, whether it be with quizzes or coffee or even a plain bowl of oatmeal, she’d wake up every day happy. 

And she thought it then, her heart swelling fat enough to burst as he looked up at her over the top of the leather binding again. Even in the split second he did so her skin had turned to gooseflesh, like he’d grabbed her at her soul and squeezed her whole being affectionately. And it was like she remembered every time he’d made her feel like that, times she thought of it as the fact a girl who received little to no attention growing up was of course going to revel under the gaze of an attractive man with a heart sweeter than cotton candy, it was just psychology. One big Freudian-slip of nonsense. At least that was what she shoved it off as. 

But looking at him, his hands big enough to grab her face whole, his body long and lithe as he spread out on the blanket, his hair falling so delicately, his tone soft and pandering to the little boy who was dropping off to sleep against her stomach. His whole essence was so Spencer it made her feel at home, like this was what she was created to do, feeling so fulfilled sat with him sipping on a juice pouch as he read to her she could die tomorrow and feel accomplished for only twenty six years. 

She knew in her gut that wasn’t what friends felt for each other; the thought creeping up her spine and over her shoulder like a virus that seized her brain as its own, her expression unwavering as she watched him with adoring eyes. 

She knew it was wrong, but with him she felt worth something. She felt complete. Like she had everything she ever needed, everything she’d ever wanted on the nights loneliness had snuck in and she’d felt like no one would ever understand how the muddied water of her mind worked. 

But he did. He always had. 

And it was like she heard a screech in a track record as it came to a stop, her head working overtime with the thought of it. 

She bit her lip in guilt, as he continued reading, hoping she wouldn’t ever ruin whatever it was that she’d felt, because she might not ever be able to forgive herself if she did. 

–

“It’s over one and below a hundred, and that’s all you’re getting,” Bugsy said with a teasing smile, her fingers resting on the rim of a very sweet Cosmo, as Penelope and Derek sat opposite them, Spencer to her right with a beer on one of the few times she’d ever seen him drink. But it had been a good day, and what would be the harm in topping off the day with a cold beverage, “Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway, it’s not like they meant much,” 

“We know it doesn’t matter, baby Prentiss, we’re just being nosey,” Derek chimed, his fingers wrapped around his own bottle of beer, courtesy of Bugsy which she had paid for with a grumble, a tipsy glint in his dark eyes. 

It was just the four of them this evening. Will and JJ had taken a sleeping Henry home so they could spend some rare time together seeing as their son was entirely knocked out. Hotch had taken Emily home after David had given her a red card for trying to tackle both Aaron and Derek multiple times during their game, because apparently competitiveness ran in the family. He had tried to gently remind her Aaron was also on her team, but had received a glare that would make any agent cower, and Hotch had suggested maybe it would be best if they got her home rather than fill her with alcohol. 

Rossi had excused himself home after hearing the colourful things the oldest Prentiss woman called him in Italian, likely contemplating if she meant any of the threats she was making. 

“Any guy would be lucky to make it to your magic number, honey bee,” Penelope added, her pastel painted lipstick making a cute rim on the straw to her own Margarita, “Or girl! Any girl would be too,”

Bugsy shied away at that, blanking for perhaps the first time because the whole topic of her romantic endeavours was suddenly embarrassing when Spencer was sat right beside her. She had spoken to them before about her college days, and had never once made an effort to hide the fact she knew she had a charm about her that meant she usually could take someone home if she wanted them. 

So why was it suddenly so difficult to admit in front of Spencer? She knew why, she knew why every single one of them suddenly felt miniscule in the grand scheme of things because they hadn’t meant much to her, not when he was sitting boring holes into the side of her head with an unusually tight expression. 

“What does it matter if there were girls, none of them really meant much,” She brushed them off, her face heating up when she finally looked at Spencer, his long fingers picking at the label on his beer with a tight lipped smile.

“We’re just teasing, Bug, there’s nothing wrong with any number you could give us. Besides, I guarantee mine is higher than yours,” Derek reassured, squeezing her wrist gently, his eyes sliding to where Spencer seemed to be trying to avoid all eye contact like he wanted the seat to swallow him whole, “Same with you, Kid, there’s no judgement at this table, we’re all human,” 

“I bet you were a real ladies man by that third doctorate,” Bugsy teased, nudging his shoulder with her own because she hated when he went quiet. 

He looked at her like he was expecting her to be cruel, except she didn’t look it, not one bit, instead she seemed a little skittish, no doubt from having the spotlight on her. “What makes you say that?” 

She bristled, “I mean, come on, Spence, you’re very good looking, you’re the smartest person I know, you’re funny and there’s like not a single bad bone in your entire body,” She said, becoming increasingly aware of the weight of her words the more she spoke. But it was like the cocktail had loosened her lips, had made it seem entirely normal to essentially tell him how lucky a girl would be to date him, how she had thought about all the reasons she would find him a worthy sexual partner. She watched him blush, granting her a flustered smile, and she looked to Penelope desperately for help, “Pen, would you tell him?”

“She has a point, Reid. You are the full package,” Penelope conceded, her smile illuminating the whole bar as she reached over to hold both their hands in hers, “It’s a shame you’re both strongly planted in the friend zone otherwise the four of us could have really been something beautiful,” 

They all chuckled, Bugsy shaking her head and leaning against Spencer’s side when he seemed to ease up, just to remind him she had meant no harm by what she said. In fact, she’d meant entirely the opposite.  

She felt his hand lean under the table to squeeze her knee, because he knew what she was thinking, and she felt herself relax at the feel of his touch. 

“Alright, here’s a question; winner gets a free shot on the next round. What was your worst date?” Morgan poked, noticing how the two youngest agents seemed to scooch towards one another almost as if they hadn’t realised, as if they were working off their own orbit, until they were pressed right up against one another, their elbows brushing against one another, “Doesn’t have to be sexual, could just be bad table manners,” 

“I haven’t really been on a date before,” Spencer tried to weasel his way out of the question, Bugsy’s head whipping to him in surprise, “There was that one time I met that girl Austin for coffee, but that was pretty great,”

She bit her cheek in annoyance. She’d forgotten about Austin, the bartender that she’d told Spencer to go after, because she was so sure that a good looking doctor like him deserved someone kind and attractive like Austin had been. She remembered how she’d seen her ocean blue eyes roving over her friend, how at the time it hadn’t meant much to her, because she couldn’t really blame her for thinking he was hot, how now it stirred something in her tummy that she feared felt like jealousy. 

She dared herself to stop the bombarding thoughts of what ‘pretty great’ entailed exactly, and busied her face by looking to Morgan for his turn. 

“My man,” Derek said with a wicked grin on his face, watching Spencer cower away from the attention though there was something guiltily proud in the smirk that grew on his face that said Spencer was somewhat pleased with his answer. In the scheme of things, he’d gotten lucky, pun intended. The only woman to ever say yes to a date with him had been sweet, even if he’d quickly made it clear he wasn’t looking for anything more with her, and even then she’d been understanding. 

“Your turn, Morgan,” Bugsy reminded, trying to be as cool as possible despite the fact her stomach felt flipped upside down at the sound of a woman she hadn’t thought about in two whole years. She didn’t know what had gotten her so territorial in a matter of seconds, but she hated every moment of it. 

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know ladies, that someone has in fact put Derek Morgan in his place before,” Derek said, with a clap of his hands, and Bugsy and Penelope shared an amused eye roll. 

“Who knows how big your ego might be if this goddess among women hadn’t acted when she did,” Bugsy drawled, Penelope giggling into her lime wedge as Derek laid a hand on his chest in faux hurt. 

“I’m telling you, I’m a changed man. I tasted my own medicine, Sugar, and it was bitter,” He said melodramatically, and even Spencer shook his head with a laugh, because Derek was a diva when he’d had a few to drink. “We go out to a lovely restaurant, I pay ofcourse, being the gentleman I am, and then we decide to go for some drinks after to round the evening off,”

“Any girl's dream come true,” Penelope jumped in, giggling when Derek wrapped an arm around her shoulder, like they were on a date themselves. 

“That was exactly my thoughts, babygirl.” Derek flirted, taking a swig of his beer, “Anyway, I maybe have a little too much of the good stuff, nothing particularly worrying. We’re laughing, we’re vibing, and then we go back to my place,” 

“Here we go, the real good stuff,” Bugsy chimed in, nudging Spencer with her elbow as the two of them snickered like tweedle dum and tweedle dee. “Fifty Shades of Morgan,”

“Pipe down, lover girl,”  Derek barked through laughter, Penelope barely making it through a sip of her own drink without smiling, “So as I was saying, I’m feeling a little worse for wear, she’s a little drunk too, so we move past it, and then we get to my room,”

“Bow chick a wow wow,” Bugsy sang teasingly, to which Spencer chuckled and taking a sip of his own drink. 

“Well, you would think, honey bee, since I am known to the women for my experiences in bed, some may call electric,” Derek slurred, holding her hand gently over the table to which she laughed even harder. 

“Huh, I must have missed that email,” She teased back, taking a long final sip of the dregs of her drink. 

“You wound me,” He replied, shaking his head, and turning to look at Penelope seriously, like he was sat in a confession booth, “So anyway, we’re in my room, about to get jiggy with it, only when I take my boxers off I find my soldier is sort of-” He paused, swallowing and looking at Spencer’s red face where he was trying desperately not to break, “You know. Unable to stand to attention,” 

Bugsy spat her drink across the table, the action alone making Penelope laugh so hard tears sprang to her eyes, the younger girl coughing as she choked on her drink, and Spencer patted her on the back until she reclaimed some composure. 

“Oh, god,” She gasped, her hand thumping her chest as she tried desperately to get a hold of herself in between the loud cries of glee and winding herself, “Derek-”

“Hey, laugh it up, Bug, it worked out alright in the end. Our second date really was electric,” He replied with a smug smile, as the girl finally caught a breath, her lash line watering with tears as she grabbed for some napkins on the table to clear up her mess. 

“If you say so,” She said, her voice croaking as Spencer offered her a sip of his drink to wash her throat out. She took a small mouthful of beer, handing the bottle back to him with a grateful smile, and she tried no to think about the fact that germ wise, they had essentially just kissed. 

“Your turn,” Spencer said, something amused in his eyes as she looked at him somewhat betrayed, “What’s been your worst date?” 

She sighed, wiping beneath her eyes with her sleeve, “If you must know, and because I really do want that shot,”  She started, clearing her throat one final time, “I was seeing this guy in New York over Spring break, Sean something,” 

“Sean something?” Derek asked, “You didn’t know his last name?” 

She shrugged, fighting the urge to crawl into a small ball of embarrassment because surely what Morgan said had set the bar for judgement high, “We didn’t exactly do much talking when we saw each other,�� 

Spencer hid his frustration in a fake smile, though one look at his furrowed brow would have given him away instantly. Luckily, they had their eyes on her long enough they didn’t catch a glimpse of his expression. It wasn’t that he would ever think less of her for being with someone else, who wouldn’t want her, but hearing about it made his inside boil with jealousy he didn’t even know he would have ever felt. 

“Anyway. I felt like a change of scenery and my mother was bothering me for a lunch date since she was in New York for the month, so I took him and two of his friends out to Italy for a long weekend,” She went on, ripping up a napkin for something to do while she spoke, and she felt Penelope staring at her agog. 

“You took a casual fling to Italy for a change of scenery?” The bubbly woman asked, her mouth dropped in shock, “Can I sleep with you?” 

Derek laughed, and Spencer went bright red when he jumped to ask the same question though he knew it was entirely coarse. Maybe it was the beer loosening his tongue, or maybe it was the fact he wondered what the two of them sitting in a sunny vineyard like a rich old couple would look like, he wasn’t sure. 

“Play your cards right, Princess,” Bugsy teased, clearing her throat to continue, “Anyway. We’re there for two days and the final evening Sean and I get into a bit of a disagreement over something dumb; I think him and his friends were being too loud and we were getting complaints. Anyway, we kiss and make up for the evening, we go out to a club. We go back to the hotel, get jiggy with it as you put it, and when I woke up the next day, the bastard had taken the bag with all our boarding passes and came back to America with his friends without even waking me up.”

Their mouths fell open, Spencer’s brows shooting into his hairline in worry, “That sounds awful, Bug,”

She shrugged again, messing with the pile of ripped up paper she’d created, “It’s nothing. I spoke the language so I got by okay, and luckily I kept all my cash in my purse so I hitched a ride to the airport and got on the next plane, except the only available one landed me in California so I had to wait for a transfer over to Baltimore. By the time I got back, his roommate said he was with some other girl,”

“What an asshole,” Derek said, shaking his head as he said so, but Bugsy raised her shoulders again. 

“I really know how to pick them,” She said, swirling her lime piece around the bottom of her glass, “Anyway, the hotel staff felt bad for me and gave me a free bottle of Pinot Noir on them so it didn’t work out all bad,” 

Sensing it was somewhat of a sticky subject, Penelope jumped in with her usual wit, “As much as I would love to give you the shot, buttercup, this gal took a bullet on her last bad date so I will be collecting that prize if it’s all the same to you,” She said, her bubbly attitude quickly throwing metaphorical glitter over the subject, collecting Bugsy's empty glass and her own together as her and Morgan moved to shuffle out of the table for another round. 

Bugsy’s eyes widened, “What?” She stopped, and she looked at Spencer to see if they were playing some sort of joke on her only to see him unsurprised, “What!?” 

“I’ll tell you about it some other time, sweet cheeks. Right now I have a tequila, salt and lime with my name written all over it,” Penelope chirped, waltzing up to the bar with her muscle two paces behind her as he drew out his wallet to put down for the next round of drinks. 

“Well, I suddenly feel like an asshole for complaining about being left in a nice hotel alone,” Bugsy said, her head resting on her hand as she looked over at Spencer who ran his finger over the emerald green bottle. 

He snorted, “Tell me about it, I said that my last date went wonderfully,” 

They met eyes in the dark lowlights of the bar and shared an amused grin, like they knew it was cynical for them to laugh except they really did feel like morons for complaining about how bad they had it when Penelope had all but joked about her situation. 

“I am sorry that happened to you, though,” Spencer said, his hand creeping over the leather seat to where hers sat on her thigh, “That must have been really scary. Why didn’t you call Emily?” 

Bugsy’s face tensed, “We weren’t really speaking then, and I knew if I told her or my mother I’d get the same lecture about being irresponsible and careless. I think I thought I’d rather do it alone,” 

Spencer pouted, braving enough to move his hand up to take hers in his own. Maybe it was the second bottle of low percent beer, or maybe it was because she’d flickered with something genuinely saddened when she’d said it, and Spencer thought that in every  instance of her story she’d had little to no one to turn to for help.

She had been alone, and the thought of it crushed him. 

He grabbed her hand, her head snapping to him and praying she didn’t find pity there because she hated that. Except she just saw him, those mossy eyes looking rounder and more lovely than ever when she regarded him. 

“You don’t have to feel alone ever again, you know that right?” He asked earnestly, giving her fingers a little squeeze, and she felt her tummy do that stupid turn all over again. It was like she had an upset stomach except that was a complete antonym of what it was, like her stomach was so unbelievably overjoyed that she could barely even hold it together without wanting to ask him what it was he had done to suddenly turn her into some sort of feral creature for every little movement he made. 

Except there wasn’t just one thing, it was everything about him. Everything. 

She smiled at him, more bashful than she had ever felt for him, and against her own instincts she slipped her fingers in between his own so they had their every digit laced together, and it was suddenly so much bigger than two friends chatting in a bar. 

She knew it then, felt it realer than ever, like a stop sign slapping her clean across the face and shattering every bone in her skull. 

She just hoped she wouldn’t regret it. 

-

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3

@rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @theoraekenslover r @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @greenvita @busy-buzzing @kitty-kei @universallyblizzardlove @suckstobrlaurie @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @splatteredpurplepaint @pieceuvmind

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 3]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n Oh, my god. When I tell y’all that everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. I stayed up all night writing and editing just to get it out today, so you don’t have to wait another week when I’m off from work again. Yesterday, I was going to surprise y’all with a back to back upload, but when my laptop died and all of my content got deleted, I needed a pause. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Part 3 of a series I didn’t know would become a series.

[Part 2] Part 3

-> <-

You decide to wake up at five because your eyes wouldn’t stay shut any longer. Ripping the blankets off your body, the cool air nips at your skin. You shove your toes into your slippers. Tripping over your tennis shoes, you rethink how close you are to your desk. Feeling around for the corner, you find the desk and you begin to aim yourself the other way. You yelp when your waist collides into the doorknob and you silently curse to yourself while trying desperately not to wake your family. Shuffling through the dark, you take mini steps to your bathroom.

Closing the door behind you, you flick on bathroom light. Squinting, your eyes adjust and the shock of the bright room dulls. You use the toilet first, before your bladder combusts. While washing your hands, you meet your own face in the mirror.

Mornings weren’t your best look. Your hair mats to one side because you’re a side sleeper. Sometimes when your sick you’ll lay on your back to keep your stomach from getting nauseous. Instead of drying your hands on a towel, you toss them back into your hair to mold and shape what’s on your head. Massaging your scalp, you forget your worries for a moment. You wash your hands of the hair that sticks to your hands, and then you dry them off.

You bounce back from the shower when you twist the hot water handle. Water splashes in your face anyway. Steam breathes into your bathroom and you almost feel suffocated by the hot air. That’s what wakes you up in the morning. You strip, then step inside allowing the beads of hot water to bake your skin. The soap you use is plain and boring. It moisturizes the layers of your skin without leaving a scent behind. You watch the bubbles drain below you.

Leaving the shower is harder to you then getting back in. Your day will begin as soon as you step out. Going to school feels like a chore. Your classes all have projects due by the end of the week or by the end of the month. Then there’s the obvious boy you are trying to avoid. Before you can imagine any lewd situations between yourself and him (and trust that you have plenty), you switch off the water to your shower.

You don’t like washing your face in hot water, so you wait until your dry and you have a towel wrapped around your body. The icy water pricks at your pores. You dry, and you apply a thick layer of moisturizer to your skin.

Finding yourself vulnerable in a towel, and thrown into darkness once again because you have forgotten your clothes in your bedroom, you shimmy across the hallway once again.

When you choose a lotion, you act as though you won’t pick the same option you have been for as long as you can remember. The label reads ‘Fruity.’ Simple enough. Throwing on an extra spritz of perfume to compliment the lotion. You like to spray perfume while you’re bare to ensure the smell sticks to you, rather than your clothes.

Wrapping yourself in your robe, you want to take a peak at the sky. Rain clouds form above. Gray all day. You happen to, also, see that Eddie’s trailer is dark. Wayne Munson’s truck is on, and he’s in the driver’s seat waiting for the engine to warm. He goes to work early, and he stays late. That’s how you got to spend so many days and nights at Eddie’s growing up.

You’d tell your mom that you were spending the night with your friend Robin, and she would cover for you in a heartbeat. She must have known what was going on before you did. Did that even count - if you didn’t know?

You shy away from the window.

Going through your closet, you find an acceptable pair of denim that’s right on your hips and loose at your ankles. The striped sweater you call your favorite will scratch at you skin all day, so you put on a plain shirt on underneath.

If the you from a few months ago, saw you sitting at your desk whipping out all of the tools and the sponges that it took to apply makeup to your skin, you’d shrivel in a corner and cry. You got used to the feeling of the brushes against your skin. The way your face feels with a bit of foundation. And the sticky feeling of mascara pressing on your eyes.

As you finish powdering your nose, your stomach growls. Your hungry.

The sun is beginning to wake, and you’re able to move through the home a bit smoother. You find yourself in the kitchen pawing through the refrigerator. No one has gone grocery shopping in a few weeks, so your options are limited.

You take the box of Honey Comb cereal off the top of the fridge. A bowl off the drying rack will do, and there’s even a spoon next to it. You pluck out your mom’s cigarettes that she “hides” inside the box. She doesn’t count them when she smokes, so you know that you can sneak one into your pocket for later.

After pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, and stealing your mom’s cigarettes, you grab the milk from the fridge. It’s heavy. When you open the milk the rancid sour odor spoils your appetite.

“Jesus!” You curse.

The expiration reads about a week ago. Gross.

You toss the milk.

Even though you’re completely grossed out, you shovel a few bites of dry cereal down your throat. Dipping your head under the sink for a drink of water, you slurp down the crumbs sticking to the sides of your mouth.

By the time you’ve brushed your teeth, your watch reads seven fifteen in the morning. If you head to school now, you’ll be there by seven thirty.

That’s exactly what you do.

The drive is quiet. Most of the town hasn’t woken yet for their day. Shops still have signs in their window that read ‘Closed.’

You’re allowed into the cafeteria with the other early birds once you get to school. Finding a group of girls you’re in home room with, they welcome you for a study session.

“You look so pretty,” Michelle gushes over your makeup.

You smile. “You too. I love your shirt.”

“I got it on sale,” she tells you the name of the store. “We should all go shopping on Saturday.”

“Girls day out!” Lisa snaps her fingers. “Count! Me! In!”

The three of you small chat for a bit, before you dive into your awaiting assignments. They’re there to help you. You reciprocate the action when they want advise.

The school bell rings.

You pack up, and you wave goodbye for now. But, you’ll see them again in just a few moments when you get to class.

Heading to your locker for the first time in months, you have to try the code twice. The third time’s the charm. You take the specimen in your locker between your index and your thumb. Finding the nearest trash can, you throw the moldy sandwich away. At least the smell hadn’t penetrated through the bag yet.

You’re just zipping up your backpack after ridding yourself of about a hundred pounds of unnecessary textbook weight when someone shouts at the end of the hall.

Petty squabbles between students, you’re usually able to ignore. However, as all the noise is headed in your direction, you hear your name in between cursed and yells. A catastrophic tornado blows your way. Your feet are firm to the ground in terror.

Roxie’s purple, and about to blow a blood vessel judging by the vein nearly popping out of her neck. Hot on her trail is petite Indie, who’s begging for Roxie to just listen to her.

“Hey, you!” Roxie jabs her finger in your face.

Indie tumbled over her own feet, “Roxie!”

You check over your shoulder in hopes that someone might be there. No one is there except a few onlookers she’s drawn in her tirade. Now, you’re thinking. Eddie couldn’t have spilt the beans this quickly. Could he?

“Oh, I’m coming for you, bitch,” she snarls.

You’re toast.

Roxie is larger than you in all retrospects, but she’s especially big in muscle. If she’s about to pummel you, then you’ll be knocked over and split in two like a pin and she’s the ball going a hundred miles an hour.

“Can’t we talk this out?” Indie asks through gasps of air.

You stare between them. Indie isn’t after you by the worried expression she holds. Still unsure exactly what Roxie’s prattling on about, you decide to wait before you interject.

“Is there something going on between you and Eddie?” Roxie demands.

See, you knew their relationship wasn’t casual! Still, you did nothing wrong. Yesterday, you didn’t even express to Eddie that you liked him in the first place. You wanted to drop the conversation, and he kept going. This is his fault. Why isn’t he about to get a fist to the face? Who’s to say he hasn’t already? Yikes.

Roxie sucks her tongue to her teeth.

“Uh-,” you’re still loading in the information, and you hesitate to answer right away. “N- no?”

“Is that a question?” Her hot breath hits your nose.

You bring your hands down to your sides because you can’t let her see you trembling like a leaf. If she smells fear, she’ll know she’s won. Her prey is hers for the taking.

You’re tired of this. “Eddie and I have nothing going on. We’re just- just friends.”

You have a hard time saying that, but not for the reasons that Roxie has in mind. You’re not even sure if Eddie wants to be your friend anymore.

“Okay,” she sticks her tongue into the flesh of her jaw, and then says. “How come last night he moaned your name instead of mine?”

Blood rushes to your ears. Your face is on fire, and you’re sure everyone can see so.

Onlookers jeer and whisper amongst themselves. Rumors are already beginning from mouth to mouth; and, hitting ear to ear.

You would also like to understand what she meant by “moaning your name.” Spare the details. Obviously, you knew what happened last night. You wipe the winner’s smirk off your face, before Roxie even notices.

“I don’t know,” you fold your arms across your chest. “Shouldn’t you ask him?”

Roxie squares her shoulders. She clenched her fists until her knuckles are white. Cursing a few more angry words your way, she’s a bull ready to charge. You might as well be wearing all red.

“What’s going on here?!”

Miss Brown sticks her nose into the hallway and notices the crowd of people. Before anyone can do anything rash, she pushes her way into the center of the chaos. With an ostentatious sort of sigh that suggests she’s better than all of you, she starts breaking up the fight.

“Off to class,” Miss Brown shoo’s them.

“Let’s go, Roxie,” Indie grits her teeth.

Roxie eyes you one more time. “Fine. I’ll be seeing you later.”

You gulp.

It’s time to play a new game around school: Hide from Roxie! Winners get the very rewarding prize of not getting their face beat in.

You dart from class to class all morning. A huge target sticks to your back with Roxie aiming for a bullseye. Meanwhile, Eddie is still no where to be found. He’s probably hiding under his sheets at home, full of shame when he mistook your name for hers.

That’s just fine by you. You still didn’t want to see him either. Or, maybe you did. First, to clear the air about you liking him. A little flimsy crush isn’t going to break a friendship, right? You’ll get over it in time. Secondly, you’re sure that him naming you is a big misunderstanding. He just got distracted or something.

After lunch was over, you planned to sneak through Mr Campbell’s empty classroom. He doesn’t have afternoon classes, and you can easily shoot through since there is a door on either side of the hallway.

“Over there!”

Roxie has the cheerleaders involved now. No doubt they want a piece of judge, jury and conviction too.

Colliding into something solid, you topple over onto the tile. You’re swept away in thought and you forget to watch where your going. Mr. Campbell has that skeleton on wheels that he’ll leave just about anywhere. But, you haven’t knocked over that stupid skeleton.

It’s Eddie.

“Oh, God,” you rub your backside.

Eddie gasps, “What are you doing?”

“What am I-,” you snap. “What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend almost tackled me like linebacker!”

Eddie shushes you. “Do you want her to hear? She’s not my girlfriend. I told you it’s casual.”

“Casual?” You want to yell, but you also don’t want her to hear. The last thing you need is for Roxie to see you in the same room as Eddie. “Whatever you have is not casual.”

“I messed up, okay?” He rubs his temple. “Jesus!”

Your chin lifts at the familiar brrring of the school bell. Now, you’re skipping class. You’ll get another hour of detention no matter if you stay here or go to class.

“You’re hiding from her too?” You conclude.

Detention doesn’t matter to Eddie. He just wants to ensure you’re okay. Judging by the way you’re creeping through empty classrooms, you’re doing just about as good as he is.

"I'm not hiding," he jumps when someone's locker slams. "Okay, so maybe I am hiding."

"This is so humiliating," you cry.

Eddie apologizes, “I’m sorry-,”

“You’re sorry?”

You’re grateful that the light in the room is limited. Otherwise, you don’t know if you could have a conversation with him right now. Eddie has these eyes that you could simply drown in.

“It was an accident,” he claims. “You’re the one who said-,”

“I didn’t say anything,” you correct him. “You’re the one with the wild imagination.”

“Wild imagination?!”

“Maybe I do like Jeff, hm? Or- or maybe I’ve come to realize that Gareth is a great guy. Did you think of that?” You stand before him, while he scrunches down into a chair. “Eddie Munson you’re selfish - no, you’re self centered. All about Eddie- it’s Eddie’s world and we’re all just there like puppets on strings.”

“You done?”

“No!” You snap. “Yes.”

“How could you call me self-centered when you’ve been prancing around this place like the rest of the guys don’t exist? Everyone wants to know where you are all the time. Why would I know? Oh, because you’re supposed to be my best friend,” Eddie rubs his hands across his face. “God, when did things get so complicated?”

"When you started calling me one of the guys in middle school, and I just wanted whatever you wanted,” you admit out loud. “Why do you think I changed when Gareth mentioned Roxie? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Eddie’s unreadable. Although dark, you can see his thoughts bubble and burst.

“It doesn’t matter,” you continue. “You don’t like me like that.”

“Who’s to say that?” Eddie’s voice comes out barely audible.

You shake your head. “Don’t pity me.”

Eddie kicks the stool from under him, “I’m not.”

“Eddie,” you pick at your nails. “What we have is a great friendship. I’m lucky that you’re in my life. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Are- are you okay with that? Are we okay?”

Eddie doesn’t want to leave the air so broken. While the words are spelled out in front of him, he can’t find a way to bring them out.

“We’re okay,” he says.

-> <-

Flicking a green bean on his plate with a fork, Eddie can’t be bothered to bring the food to his lips. Nothing passes his mouth. He watches the ice crystals on his steak defrost because he doesn’t want Uncle Wayne to worry that he’s messed up dinner, since this is the first one they’ve shared in a while. Wayne told his boss that he wanted to be home tonight for Eddie, and here he is.

“You’re not eating?” His uncle points out because Wayne has eaten half of his meal, and he worries that Eddie is appearing a bit gray and slender.

Eddie replies. “I ate a lot at school.”

“In the years that you’ve been under my roof, you haven’t stopped eating,” Wayne lowers his head to meet his nephew’s eye. “Try again.”

Eddie pushes the microwaved dinner aside. A low hum comes from the television, and he’s not even sure what’s on. Someone’s bobbing around like a baboon trying to make a woman smile. Yet another attempt from Wayne to make Eddie relive his childhood, he guesses.

“That girl your seeing isn’t pregnant is she?” Wayne presses when Eddie won’t talk. “Eddie Munson, I’ve told you to use a condom-,”

“No,” he cocks his head to rethink. “No, she’s not.”

Even if Roxie was pregnant, she’d get an abortion and make Eddie pay for it. Actually, he still owes her for the condoms.

Eddie wants to be done with women for a while. But, there is still this pinching on his ears that reminds him you’re still there. He’s actually wearing a pair of your studs that you forgot at his house one day. Since Eddie is prone to losing just about everything, he’s decided to wear them so they don’t get lost. No one even notices except for him. They hide behind his hair.

“Look,” Eddie wets his lips. “If I tell you, then you have to promise me you won’t do that weird ‘oooh’ thing you do. Got it?”

Wayne claps his hands together. Say no more. He’s solved the case! That little lady across the park has had her eye on him since the day Eddie moved in. Wayne really likes her. ‘Thinks she’s a great ball of sunshine that can keep Eddie under control. He’s been just waiting for Eddie to wake up and smell the coffee!

“Really?” Wayne excites.

Eddie exhales. “Don’t-,”

“Wait,” he lectures. “You’re not seeing both of them are you? Eddie Munson that is wrong, and I won’t tolerate that behavior. I taught you better.”

“No-,”

“Seriously, boy. Wear a condom. It’s not just for you, but her too you know?”

“Wayne-,”

“You can’t be spreading your butter on everyone’s toast.”

“Wayne!”

“I knew it,” he blabs on. “Ever since I caught you two brushing each other’s teeth. Oh, I saw this coming - I did!”

That incident happened once, and Wayne would never let Eddie live that down.

You smoke one joint.

After sitting in his room complaining of boredom, you tell Eddie you had never brushed someone else’s teeth before. He hadn’t either. You wanted to try. But, Eddie would only let you if the offer went both ways. Wayne burst in when you were scrubbing his tongue. You splattered toothpaste all over the mirror, while Eddie tried to keep you from squirming so he could scrub your teeth.

“You need to learn how to knock,” Eddie tries sailing with the conversation his old man is going on about.

Wayne challenges. “You know there’s no closed doors when you have girls over, Eddie.”

“Oh, my God.”

Reliving the memory, Eddie wants to make more with you. Cooking. You’ll cook. He’ll burn food. You’ll tell him he’s doing a wonderful job anyway because you’re too sweet to tell him to get out before he burns the house down. Eddie visions that you’ll teach him a better way to organize his clothes. You’ve already tried to show him how to fold, but Eddie only lasted a week doing your method before going back to shoving the clothes in whatever drawer is the least bit full. He’ll now admit that he only let you teach him because he wanted you close. He wants you close. Always.

It’s not just domestic stuff he sees. He wants to take you on a date. Many dates. He wants to take you out of Hawkins, even if it’s for just a day. He misses your laugh. Seeing you cry today broke him. Knowing that you’ve changed everything for him, and he didn’t notice. Because at the core of all the makeup and the hair, he guesses, that he just didn’t care. He loves all the extra, don’t get him wrong, but all he can see is you.

“What are you going to do, boy?” Wayne wonders.

Eddie replies in a question, “What if everything goes wrong? I- I can’t lose her, Wayne.”

“Son-,”

“What if I just turn out like him? Like my father?”

Eddie’s lip quivers, as he bites back the tears he’s been holding onto for years. Not a day goes by does he not miss his father, even if the years weren’t kind to him. His father is locked away somewhere in State, but he hasn’t visited. They’ll take one look at Eddie and they’ll try to lock him away too.

“That’s not you, Eddie,” Wayne opens his arms. “Come here.”

Eddie drops his head onto his uncle’s shoulder. Tears slide down his cheek and across his chin.

“Deep breaths,” he rubs his hand across Eddie’s back.

He doesn’t cry for long, and Wayne wipes his tears when he’s calmer. This isn’t a usual interaction between them, but neither of them care. Wayne takes away a stray eyelash from Eddie’s cheek.

“You like this girl?” Wayne says as a fact more than a question.

Eddie nods.

“You have to try,” he insists.

“Yeah, okay,” his nephew agrees.

Wayne and Eddie end their conversation there. Eddie eventually eats (after microwaving the food because he could have broken teeth on that steak), and the show that his uncle makes him watch isn’t half bad. Their night comes to a close when his uncle snores.

Mouth agape, head tipped over and his feet propped up, Wayne would be out for the night.

Eddie tucks his uncle’s toes beneath the blanket Wayne was hugging. Tip toeing his way into the kitchen, he puts both forks into the sink along with their drinking glasses. The TV dinners find home in the trash can. While Eddie left the television on to lull his uncle in his sleep, Eddie flicks off the living room and the kitchen lights. He sneaks off to his bedroom, the only bedroom in the trailer. Wayne gave up the space for Eddie to grow into.

Eddie finds that sleep won’t do.

You project onto his ceiling like a film about his life. There you are. Every new milestone. Eddie didn’t think about just how many times you were there for him. His birthdays come to mind, even the ones he didn’t want to be there for because he doesn’t always feel like he deserves to be celebrated. You’d sneak off to get him a beer when his uncle was distracted with all the other kids invited.

When you kept him from going outside, while Wayne drove up in his brand new van that was a gift for Eddie when he got his license. Wayne took on extra hours just for him. That might just have been the night his heart beat a little faster for you. Watching you perform songs in your living room in that ridiculous feather boa and sunglasses, Eddie’s drawn to laugh at the memory of you out of tune and off key. You didn’t care. The hair brush you swore was a microphone was just not working that night. You’re much better performer in the shower, you’d said.

Eddie sits up in bed, and he can see that your bedroom light is still on. Your curtains are drawn, but your silhouette dances about. Bouncing up and down will sometimes get rid of your last bit of energy, Eddie’s witnessed your routine first hand. Your wild, and Eddie finds this fascinating.

When your silhouette disappears, but the light remains, Eddie concludes that you’re reading a chapter book. You told Eddie to try reading sometime because that’s what helped you get to sleep. He bought his first book that very same day.

The Lord of the Rings was your suggestion. Not that he hadn’t found it first, but he wasn’t about to point it out. Eddie sees the book hidden under a lighter he used last night.

Smoking seemed obvious to him. He couldn’t sleep, so he would light up. With Wayne home, though, Eddie didn’t want the smell getting to him. He’s pretty sure Wayne knows he smokes by now, and he doesn’t care. Eddie isn’t a reckless smoker by any means, and he keeps to himself. If Wayne found out he was selling, that would be a different story.

Never the less, Eddie reads page after page of the same book he’s been fascinated by for weeks. He immerses himself into the books wishing he could be the hero, rather than the one who runs in the face of danger.

Eddie hears your front door open and close. This interests him and tips his head up. Tossing the book aside like he’s suddenly been hypnotized, he looks through his window.

You’re on the porch in thin pajamas and a robe. A lit cigarette slots between your fingers. You only smoke when you’re stressed. Pacing back and forth, Eddie understands that you’re talking to yourself. He just can’t make out the words.

This is creepy. Eddie shuts his window, and sinks back in bed. Leaving you alone - leaving you alone.

The words in his book blur into blobs of unrecognizable text. All he can see right now is you on that porch. You’re alone - and you’re probably cold. He has a blanket that he could offer. Maybe he could- no, he is leaving you alone.

Eddie wants to untangle the knot he has in his belly. He even tries to convince himself that he’s still hungry. But, he knows he won’t eat. You’re there. Even if you were caked in mud, you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Actually, he has seen you caked in mud before. You were definitely hot then too.

Oh, God. What was he doing?

Pulling open his closet now, Eddie finds a jacket to slip on over his pajamas. He takes an extra blanket with him. It’s a bit torn up, but the blanket is clean. Wayne washed the blanket a couple of days ago, along with Eddie’s sheets which he claimed he could smell from across town. Eddie was not that dirty. It was the weed - but, er - don’t ask about the stains. He doesn’t know what they are or where they came from. Seriously, don’t ask.

Wayne is still snoring in the living room. He mutters in his sleep when Eddie opens the front door, and he doesn’t see Wayne stir once the door shuts.

His uncle stretches, and wakes up enough to take a leak in his bathroom. By the time he returns to the living room, he catches a glimpse from the window in the living room. His boy is with you on your porch making you smile and making you blush.

Wayne doesn’t need to spy. He’s seen this movie before when his brother made moves on his girl. It’d be a few more years until Eddie is born, but the picture is already there.

“Atta boy,” Wayne cheers to himself.

Eddie’s sitting with you, and sharing a cigarette. You’re not sleeping either. Dried black makeup you haven’t smudged off is stuck under your eyes. He wants to swipe it away, but he doesn’t know if he should.

“Is your mom in tonight?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head. “No, but my dad is such a deep sleeper. He’s nothing to worry about.”

Eddie worries about your dad catching him there with his only daughter, then your mom who likes to call you both “crazy kids.” Your dad is stern. Overprotective. He’s jokes about having a gun locked away somewhere, but Eddie still has no idea if he is joking. You won’t tell him because truthfully you don’t know.

“What’s got you up?” Eddie brings the blanket closer to you because he sees your shoulders dance.

You shake your head blowing out smoke to the left where Eddie isn’t.

Eddie takes a drag from the cigarette after he says, “I don’t think I’ve been all that honest with you.”

He reads your face.

“Not like that,” he can’t look at you, so he counts the floorboards of your porch. “I said we’re okay, but I don’t think we are.”

Your heart skips in your chest. “What do you mean?”

While Eddie might not be able to look at you, your eyes are all on him. In the moonlight, he’s like this shiny thing. You can’t put your thoughts into words, but he’s carved by the shine of the moon. He might hide his face with his hair, but when he hunches over you relax a bit.

You haven’t been able to put yourself in bed. Knowing that Eddie was there had wrecked your mind. You’re itching to be near him.

The whole day you thought about nothing, but him. How unsatisfied you are with your earlier conversation. You thought being the one to take charge in the conversation, and assert yourself, might make the blow easier. Truthfully, it hurt even worse.

You spent the evening sobbing in your room like a baby. Friends. You signed your name at the bottom of that contract. But, then, you thought about the day you’ll find a nice boy that will like you back. You’ll get married. You’ll get a house. Everything will be okay. But, as you thought about your life, your mind wondered about Eddie. What happens when he finds a girl? He’ll have a wife and he’ll have a house too.

You’ll be at that wedding. Sitting in a chair that’s not too close to the front, but also not all the way in the back. The band sits in front of you. They might not be able to pronounce the brand name, but their check cashes on their suits. All of your friends are his friends.

Eddie’s fiancé is faceless, but her gown is breathtaking. They’ll say ‘I do.’

You’ll cry along with them, but the tears you shed are ones you let out at a funeral. Are you just supposed to sit there and pretend like you don’t want to throw up?

Because that’s not you standing at the alter.

That’s some chick he’s met on the road while he tours with the band. Sure she’s great. But, the sight sickens you. Maybe that means your selfish, but you can’t do this. You can’t see Eddie with another woman. You refuse to see it because Eddie’s always been with you.

“I’m sorry?” You’ve spaced out while Eddie is speaking.

He begins to say, “please don’t make me repeat myself.”

Throwing the cigarette to the ground, you stamp out the flame. You wrap your hands around his neck, and you pull him forward. Eddie's lips meet yours in an awaited embrace. Longing and passionate. His hands burrow into your hair pulling you ever closer. The tender touch of his fingers fall to your waist to tell you he's not going anywhere.

You can't be sure which one of you pull away first. But, when your eyes open you breathe a sigh of relief. Eddie is still there, and he's about as hot in the face as you feel. You let out a breathy laugh, and he hides his grin behind his hair.

It doesn't take long for him to ask,

"Can I take you out sometime?"

And, of course, you say. "Yes!"

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia @sofaritsalrightt @thisisktrying @somethingvicked @sebastiansstanswhore

[saeyoungchoismaid]

hi it's not seb Saturday yet but I just wanted to throw this idea down. Sebastian chilling outside in the rain in his usual spot before seeing the farmer trudge out from the mines all bloodied and bruised ("I'm alright, really—") and it's like an immediate panic switch is flipped for sebastian because yoba above they look like a vampire's wet dream out here. They either patch farmer up at their house or at Sebastian's room lol (could be funny if the farmer ends up crashing on his bed/couch for the night, then leaves quite early but not without leaving seb a gift they got from the mines.... : ,) anyway that's it)

Awe my first Sebastian Saturday ask yay! Bro this request is so juicy HEHE. (Side note: sorry if this isn't that good or feels rushed. I haven't wrote anything in months but I'm honestly proud of myself for cranking 2k words out)

gif originally uploaded by @starwberrymark

Sebastian listens to the rock music that’s softly coming from the garage as he works. He lets out another low curse when more oil leaks out of his motorcycle and gets on him. He should be used to it. His clothes are covered in it anyway. He sighs and sets down his wrench, taking a seat on the ground by the front tire as he snatches up his rag and wipes his hands clean. Well, as best as he could. He then takes a swig from his water bottle, eyeing the clouds forming above him. Looks like a storm is blowing in. 

He keeps working for maybe another thirty minutes or so before he starts to feel the skies open up. The rain starts gentle, a few droplets starting to fall around him and onto his bike. “Welp…” he grumbles, grabbing his bike and starting to roll it back into the garage. Once secured, he shuts the radio off and closes the garage. 

He places his hands onto his hips, surveying the rain. A ghost of a smile starts to appear on his face as the rain starts to fall harder. He steps back out into it and begins to head towards the lake. He takes his pack of cigs out and smacks them against his hand, inhaling deeply. He’s always loved the smell of rain. 

Once at his usual spot, he takes a cigarette out and holds it up to his lips. He then slips his lighter out of his pocket and protects the end from the wind and rain to light it. Once the flame has caught the end of his cig, he inhales deeply, causing an orange hue to glow from the stick. 

He stands there for a while, just admiring how the water falls onto the lake or how the forest begins to smell when it’s wet. His eyes move towards the entrance of the mines when he thinks he sees movement. Through the rain, that’s starting to come down harder, he can’t really see much. He squints his eyes and moves his head around, trying to get a better look at what was going on. 

His eyes go wide when he sees you hobbling down the path. “(Y/n)!” he shouts in surprise, dropping his cig into a puddle and dashing over to you. Upon getting closer to you, he sees the bruises blooming on your skin and the cuts oozing blood. “Oh my god…” he mumbles, his heart breaking the longer he looks at you. 

“Hey, Sebastian,” you greet him as cheerily as you can muster, trying to slap a smile on your face. The pain makes it a little hard to do though. “Don’t worry about all this. I’m fine, really. Just got a bit scraped up in the mines. Those monsters are-”

“You’re not fine! You’re bleeding!” he shouts, gesturing to you. Before you can respond, he’s wrapping one of your arms around his shoulders for you to lean against him. “C’mon, I’ll help you to my house.” 

“Your house? But-”

“No but’s! You’re seriously hurt and Harvey’s clinic is already closed. You don’t seem too badly injured where we need to bother him, but I’m definitely not letting you go home without patching you up first,” Sebastian argues. You let out a sigh, realizing how serious he is about all of this. 

“Okay…fine…” you grunt out, not having the energy to fight him on it anymore. 

When you get to his place, no one seems to be home. At least, no one is in the front of the house. Sebastian leads you down the stairs and opens the door to his room. You’ve only been in his room a few times and never for long. Normally just when you have stuff for his commissions that he posts outside of Pierre’s store. He’s always very grateful, but he’s not much of a talker, so you just never end up staying around for too long. Besides, you have way too much shit going on in your day anyway. 

He sets you down onto the black couch that’s right by his door and you’re happy to be off of your feet. “I’ll go grab the first aid kit,” he says right before dashing up the stairs to go do that. You grunt and lean back against the couch, the cool air of the house making you shiver in your wet clothes. 

When he returns, he sees you shivering and bites his lip. “Here,” he says, setting down the first aid kit and going over to his dresser at the far end of the room. “Change into these,” he says, offering you a pair of pajamas. You shakily reach your hands out and take them, nodding your head as you stand up. 

You two stare at each other for a moment, unmoving. Sebastian’s eyes go wide as he realizes what you’re waiting for. “Oh! Sorry! Um, I’ll just, uh-” he stutters out as he turns around, completely red in the face. With his back to you, you slowly start stripping out of your clothes, a shy smile on your face. You do your best to avoid getting any blood or dirt on his clothes. Thankfully, the shirt and pants he gave you are both black. Maybe that’s why he gave you that specific pair. 

“Done,” you mumble before crashing back onto the dark cushions. He hesitates for a second before slowly turning around. 

He’s then back in front of you in a second, kneeling on the floor and moving your limbs around to survey your wounds. Once getting an eyeful of them all, he grabs the first aid kit and starts patching you up. You remain silent as he works, even when it hurts, you keep your lips sealed. 

After a while, a thought comes to you. “How are you so good at this?” you ask curiously. His eyes flicker up to yours before going back to your arm where he is currently rubbing in a cream on one of your darker bruises. 

“Let’s just say I…wasn’t exactly always the best-behaving kid,” he replies with a shrug, a smirk starting to form on his lips. 

“Oh?” you ask, looking down at him with your own smirk. Seeing your smirk, he huffs a laugh through his nose. 

“Nothing interesting, I assure you. I just…I’m not the biggest people person…” he says softly, moving onto a cut that he’s cleaned up to bandage it. 

“That’s okay,” you reassure, unsure of what else you could say in this moment. 

“Yeah, I guess. I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, but I had Sammy, and later on Abigail. They introduced me to some more people, so I have more than enough friends to last me a lifetime now,” he replies with a light chuckle. You can’t help but smile at that. You’re happy to see that he’s, well, happy. 

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” you ask after a few moments of silence, hesitating in asking. After doing a few commissions for him and hanging out with him and the others at festivals, you two slowly started getting closer. You typically end up hanging out after a long day at work and you head over to Gus’ only to find that Sebastian and the others are playing pool. At first, you’d only watch, but after warming up to them, you started playing. 

The last time you played together, you two ended up staying until Gus closed the place down. You two were one of the few people left there, Sam and Abigail being long gone. Y’all ended up walking to the beach and sitting on the pier, sharing jokes and swapping stories. It was one of the best nights of your life. It’s definitely your favorite memory you’ve made since moving to Pelican Town. 

“Yeah…of course we are…” he replies softly, almost sounding hesitant and not looking into your eyes. 

“Good. I’m glad,” you say softly, giving him a sweet smile. He finally looks up at you and gives you a small smile in return. 

He’s then clearing his throat and standing up. “Well, I’m all done,” he says, wiping his hands onto his damp jeans. He glances at his clock and grunts. “It’s pretty late and sounds like it’s still raining. So, if you want to stay…you can…” He starts off confidently but ends on a quiet, unsure note. 

Heat rises to your face at that. “Oh, um, sure. Thank you…” you whisper, looking down at your hands. 

“Don’t mention it. You can, uh, take the bed, if you want. I’ll take the couch,” he offers. He then walks over to his closet and opens it up, revealing extra pillows and blankets at the top of the closet. 

“What? No, no! That’s okay! I’ll take the couch. I don’t want to inco-”

“I won’t take no for an answer,” he interrupts, pulling some blankets free from their tangled mess in his closet. You sigh and nod your head even though he’s not looking at you. 

“Alright, fine,” you say as you stand up, limping over to the bed. You sit there and watch him make the couch comfy for himself. 

As he moves around his room and goes to the bathroom to get ready for bed, you end up lying down at some point. You don’t remember falling asleep, but you do vaguely remember feeling something brush against your forehead and what sounded like someone wishing you a good night. 

When you wake up, you feel well-rested and ready to take on the day. You sit up and rub the leftover sleep from your eyes and then stretch. You wince when the bruises on your ribs ache, reminding you of what happened yesterday. You turn towards the time and find it’s six in the morning. Ah, guess old habits die hard. 

Hearing rustling and a deep sigh, you turn your attention now to the couch. Sebastian is still out cold, and probably will be for another four hours, at least. You smile and slip out of the bed, walking over to him. You smile at how peaceful he looks, his usual RBF nowhere to be seen. 

Not wanting to disturb him, you leave him be as you gather up your still-wet clothes. You’ll return his pjs to him later, after you’ve cleaned them and made sure they’re free of blood. Feeling something hard in your pocket, you slip your hand inside and remember what you found yesterday. Glancing at Sebastian, you gently set it down onto the table beside his couch that’s missing his radio. You then hobble over to his desk and search for paper and something to write with. Upon finding what you’re looking for, you scribble down a little note and leave it there next to your gift. You give him one last look before starting to limp up the stairs. Because it’s so early, no one else is up yet, so you slip out unnoticed thankfully. You’re not sure how you’d explain yourself to Robin. 

When Sebastian wakes up, the first thing he does is look over at his bed. He frowns when he finds you not there and he feels his heart sink a little. He sits up and runs his hands through his hair before scrubbing at his face. Upon dropping his hands, he notices two items resting before him. He practically has stars in his eyes as he picks the Obsidian up. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. 

Noticing the paper next to it, he picks that up next. As he reads your note, he starts to smile harder and harder. 

Dear Sebastian, 

Thank you for patching me up. Don’t think I ever actually properly thanked you last night. It means a lot to me that you’d go through all the trouble. I want you to have this. A little birdy once told me that you’ve always wanted to see Obsidian. I hope you can mark this off your bucket list now. If there’s anything else you want to see, I’m sure I can make it happen ;) Text me :) xxx-xxx-xxxx

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

MASTERLISTS

More with Sebastian

Join my discord server: https://discord.gg/qnDxJ6rr67 

Tag List: @katelynwithpaint, @babykirbysstuff ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

[wednesdaynn]

birthday special

A/N: HI! omg it's my birthday and i thought i'd write a little special something from myself to you, as i'll be spending my birthday alone. So here is a little special poly!marauders smutty fic to make myself happy and not dread this awful day.

i also got a cake with the faces of multiple celebrities i love, including the OG fancasts... so

not edited, not even double checked or rewritten, i did this in 3 days and expected it to only be around 2000 words, so it might be awfull, dont blame me

This is also uploaded 9 hours after scheduled time but shhh

word count: 4388

warnings: reader who feels left out and sad on her birthday/ foursome, oral sex, penatrative sex, awkward positions and understanding lovers, dirty talk, slight overwhelming feelings so a bit of crying.

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader

It's eerily quiet in the great hall. lunch time had just passed and most of the students were spending their time outside in the great fields outside of the castle. Spring break was coming to an end and most of ‘em filled their last couple of free days soaking up the sunlight outside, a rare occurrence in scotland. except for your friends, who had been all over the place since that morning. you suppose you had been slightly jealous towards them. Every time it was someone's birthday they made sure to plan something that would interest the birthday person. 

For Lily's birthday, you had spent the evening outside after dark playing in the snow and staying up all night in the boys dorm, drinking wine and gossiping. Remus' birthday was perfect, it had fallen on a sunday, giving you guys the entire day to do nothing except to annoy Remus, plan pranks and sneak into the kitchen to eat until you guys couldn’t . For james’ you guys had planned an entire party that lasted through all the night. 

But this morning you woke up to everyone rushing around. You had thought that because it was spring break there would be a lot of time to hang out with the lot, but to your surprise, you got a kiss on the cheek from your girl friends, and your boyfriends had to get up for quidditch practice early and stayed until lunch. They wished you a happy birthday and let you unpack your presents at the breakfast table. but the celebrations were soon pushed aside for more important tasks, such as studying. 

since breakfast you hadn’t seen anyone, the first hour after breakfast spent in the common room reading a book, you had soon grown bored. you went to the library to study but found it to be too crowded with most of the students cramming for their latest exams. the hot weather tearing them down. and right before lunch you headed outside to join Hagrid in feeding the latest creature he had brought home with him. both of you working in silence. 

But lunch rolled around and you hadn't seen any of your friends. When you walked into the great hall, your boyfriends were just on their way to return to the dorms to take a long awaited shower, while Remus and Peter joined them to finish the last part of their essay. 

And you know there was an open invitation to join them. they always made sure to let you know you are welcome there, even Peter had let you know he enjoys your company, more than the boys he had said. but you didn’t want to intrude on their tasks. you already felt like you were overreacting and the boys knew you too well. you knew they’d worry about you and set their own things aside to make sure you’re okay, but you didn’t want them to do that, feeling like a burden. 

you push yourself up from the table and swing your legs over the bench. with no idea what to do the rest of the day you make your way back up to your room, checking the last couple of assignments off of your to-do list, watering the plants, stoking the fire in the room when the evening chill started to roll around and the sun had disappeared behind the clouds. you had picked up your book again, but to no avail. you were bored, extremely. and you don’t hold it against your friends, knowing that they have things to do as well since classes are starting soon again. but you had spent the entire spring break hanging out almost every day, and the one day that was important to you, they couldn’t. 

you felt left behind. turning around one more time on your bed, you let out a sigh of annoyance. Another birthday spent doing nothing, another birthday spent alone, another birthday spent depressed. you had learned your lesson the past couple of years not expecting much. but it was your last year at Hogwarts, your last year spent with friends. you had hoped this year would be different. not a quick ‘happy birthday, and we’ll see you again tonight when we are already half asleep.’ 

Was it unfair to think that way? yes, but you couldn’t care at the moment. you were feeling lonely and bored. but you picked yourself up enough to at least head  to dinner, where you were greeted with all of your friends sitting together, laughing and having fun. you walked over to Remus and sat beside him quietly, giving him a tight lipped smile while he kissed you on your temple and put his hand on your thigh. 

The entirety of dinner had been spent in silence while your friends talked. they had tried to get you to join the conversation, but your energy had been drained from the constant worrying the entire day. the hand on your thigh had left when Remus had to start eating, but the second he was done it was around your waist pulling you in closer.

"You wanna talk?” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath a comfort on your neck. you looked up at him and shook your head softly with a thin smile, not quite reaching your eyes. the thumb on your waist moves ever so slightly, rubbing comforting circles into your skin. Remus hymned and turned back to his friends, his hand not leaving your side. 

When they finished with their meal, Remus slid his arm back and grabbed your hand to bring you along with him. you walked along with your friends, every so often listening in on their conversation. you followed them up onto the moving stairs but only raised your head when you passed the door to the gryffindor common room. Remus let out a soft chuckle, his grip on your hand getting tighter. you walked after him as he dragged you up more and more stairs.

entering the top corridor the girls giggle as they open up one of the doors to an empty classroom, and Peter walks up to you, circling around until he puts his hands in front of your eyes and covers them. you let out an annoyed sigh, but smile nonetheless. Remus leads your hand further into the room where he leaves you waiting.

you tap your foot impatiently and Peter clicks his tongue in response. you hear slight rustling in the background and Marlene and Sirius whispering, although it’s louder than they probably intend to, seeing as they are bickering about godric knows what. but the noises slowly die down and someone is back at your side again holding onto your right hand. 

Peter slowly slid his hands away from your face and in front of you laid a couple of blankets with candles and a bunch of food and drinks on the floor. the tables and chairs had been pushed to the side. you look to your right seeing James and squeezing onto his hand tighter, giving him a grateful smile. He lets go of your hand and wraps it around your waist, pulling you into him. 

your eyes stare in awe at the scene in front of you. your friends standing around you with a happy smile. Mary shakes out her hands and squeals and before she can contain herself, she runs over to you and envelopes both you and James in a tight hug. 

“didn’t think we’d forget now, huh love?” you shake your head and she pulls back from your embrace holding your face in her hands. “Happy birthday sweetheart.” you give her a sweet smile and they both release, just far enough for your other friends to congratulate you. 

pulling back from all the hugs, you all make your way down to the middle of the room, filled with sweets. sitting cross-legged on the blanket across from your friends, squished between your boyfriends, you felt slightly guilty.

you couldn’t believe you thought they were capable of forgetting, or just not wanting to celebrate your birthday. or thinking they didn’t know you well enough to know how you wanted to spend your birthday. you silently scold yourself on your mistrust towards your boys and try to focus back on the scene in front of you. 

you lean into James’ embrace next to you while he puts his arm around your shoulder and try to relax into it as much as possible. “Thank you, darling,” you whisper to him. “I love it.” he just winks and holds you tighter. 

The night carries on with lots of laughter while you stuff your mouths with a bunch of food and the alcohol, which you can only assume Sirius and Mary took care of. it was getting late and everyone was relatively tipsy, you all decided it was best to head up back to bed. standing up from Sirius’ lap, all of you stumbled your way back down all the stairs and into the common room, getting dirty looks from the paintings. He held onto your waist tightly as you walked up towards the boys’ dormitory. 

taking off your shoes next to the door, you walk over to the fireplace in the centre of the room, stoking the fire with a spell, instantly warming the room. You watch as you see your boys make their way over to the bathroom individually. Coming out with pyjamas and brushed teeth, the padding of their socked feet towards their beds. You quickly ascend to the bathroom yourself, the stressful day had made you quite tired, and the slight state of drunkenness you were in didn’t help either. 

You quickly took off your makeup and brushed out your hair and teeth. Getting out of your clothes and putting on your pyjamas. You lean your head down and take a sip of water from the faucet and make your way back to their dormitory. Getting into Remus' bed you sit cross legged on the cover. 

“I’m sorry if i acted odd tonight, i loved what you guys did for me, honestly. It was the best birthday.” you say softly. Sirius's face contorts into one of confusion and he cocks his head up towards you. “What are you talking about, love?” James crosses over from his bed to yours and leans against the bedpost, his arms crossed on his chest. 

“You were fine sweetheart, but if something is bothering you, you know you can always talk about it with us right?” you nod and give James a soft smile. Remus pats your thigh. 

“Come’ere.”  you climb up higher on the bed and throw your leg over his lap, making eye contact with your lover. He gives you a soft peck on your forehead and his thumb draws circles into your waist. You feel a dip in the mattress behind you and feel Sirius his hand brush the hair away from your neck and shoulder, leaving soft peck along the neckline of your pyjama shirt. You lean into their embrace and let out a soft sigh.

You see James get on the bed on the other side of you and look over at him. “You want us to take care of you? Or do you just want to cuddle until we fall asleep?” you’re already letting go of your inhibitions while in the hold of your boyfriends, and you know they will take care of you. 

“Take care of me please.” you let out softly, looking up at him with sweet eyes. He gives you an adorning smile and a kiss on the cheek. 

Remus his hands slowly slip under your shirt, rubbing the skin underneath. He spreads his hands across your back, “lean back for me sweetheart.” Sirius whispers in your ear as his lips ghost across your jawline. You look at Remus and he nods at you, he holds you as you lean back into Sirius his arms, your shoulders resting on his chest. 

Sirius his hands move down towards the hem of your shirt and slowly inches it upwards. His knuckles grazing your skin, leaving behind goosebumps as his cold hands touch you. He moves until he reached the underside of your boobs. 

“Can i, love?” you nod as best as you can. He lifts the shirt over your breasts and skims his hands over them, brushing along your nipples and pinching them slightly. You let out a soft sigh at the contact and look away from his movements and make eye contact with Remus who winks at you. He gestures over at James to get closer and you feel James moving on the bed as he leans down on your level.

He softly brushes some stray hairs away from your face and leans in closer kissing your lips softly. You fully let go in the embrace of your lovers doting on you and your body. The kiss quickly turns a lot more fierce and you realise in this position both of your bodies have to contort to kiss properly, so James makes his way down your body, jaw, neck, clavicle bones, and just under your shirt where Sirius pulls his hands away to give James free reign to pleasure you. 

James leaves wet kisses all on your breast, and soft bites around your nipples leaving slight marks all over your chest. He finally wraps his lips around your left nipple and sucks lightly. You let out a moan at his administration and he groans around your nipples, heat flows down your body. 

Sweat starts to form on your forehead and you notice how much of a strain your body is being put on being in this position. You move your hand to tug on Remus' arms.

“You like how he’s making you feel darling?” you nod but a slight grimace pulls at your face. “This position, baby, it’s slightly uncomfortable, I'm sorry.” you apologise to them. Sirius tuts behind you and moves his hands behind your shoulder blades to give you some elevation to get up properly. 

Being sat back on Remus' lap, he slowly lifts you up from off of his lap and moves you next to him on the bed, the spot James was previously occupying. Sitting up on the bed you roll your shoulder around, letting the tight spots ease. You remove your shirt entirely from your body and Sirius softly pushes at your sternum, easing you onto your back, your head resting on the pillows. 

James resumes his former position, leaning over you and softly kissing your chest and upwards, now finally having the space to kiss your neck and leave marks all over. Sirius, who is still sitting between your legs, ghosts his hands across your stomach and reaches the waistband of your pyjama pants. He hooks his fingers underneath the band and glides them across your waist, teasing you. 

You panting beneath them, wishing they would just do more. Having 3 boyfriends and still not getting where you need them seems pathetic, but Remus just finds your frustrations comical and sweet. He puts his hand on your forehead and strokes the top of your head. 

Sirius his hands finally make their way down when he pulls down your pants and underwear at the same time, helping you lift your hips and pulling them all the way down your legs and throwing them next to the bed. You have half a mind to tell him it’s gross to leave clothes lying on the floor, but James his lips are back on your nipples and thinking straight with them is just too difficult. 

He brushes his hands on your calves, massaging them and pushing them up, leaving your knees bent. You feel Remus’ hands skim across your stomach downwards, a ghost of a touch on your mound leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“Please, Rem?” with the comforting touch of Sirius’ hands on your calves, soothing you into a deeper rest, you can’t help but beg for Remus to touch you. 

“Since it’s your birthday, sweetheart, I'll go easy on you.” His voice sounds rough, but he complies immediately. His middle finger and ring finger skim over your slit collecting wetness from your core and he circles your clit with them. You whine, the touch of James his lips and teeth on your nipple and Remus his light circular movements on your bundle of nerves, makes you set alight. 

They’re barely doing anything, but it’s making you let out all sorts of noises you’ll probably be embarrassed about tomorrow, but for now you couldn’t care, knowing it only eggs your partners on further. 

Remus his fingers slowly move down to your hole circling it, teasing it, before finally pushing on finger in slowly. He eases it into you, taking his time, moving it in and out slowly. He watches your face intently. Making sure to catch any noise you let out, and face you make and any sign of unease. He sees your hands grab onto the blanket and takes it as his queue to add a second finger. 

No matter how many times the four of you have sex, the stretch never gets any easier. You scrunch your face up slightly. “Am i good to continue, or do you need a second?” he asks, and you have half a mind to tell him to shut up and continue, but you find it so endearing how caring he still is. “You’re good to continue, baby, was just a pinch.” he nods and continues pushing into you, but this time at a much slower pace, taking extra caution. 

Once he feels you’re rightly accommodated to the stretch, he starts pumping in slowly again. Taking his time dragging his fingers against your walls, your pussy quivering around his fingers. You feel every drag with his slow pace, the way he barely misses your g-spot. 

Your hand curls around his wrist and he gives you a smirk. “You want more, baby?” he hymns at you.  You just nod to the best of your ability. He increases his pace, only ever so slightly making you whine. You liked when he teased, but it was god damn frustrating. 

Your nails scratch at his wrist and pull at his hand hoping to speed it up even more, but Remus is relentless in giving you what you want. He makes a tsks noise, hoping to tell you off, but he sees the desperate look on your face and he almost gives in.

“Be good for me baby, and you’ll get what you want.” you nodded fervently at him. James leaves a peck on your cheek and makes his way over to your lips, kissing you with renowned vigour. Tongue sliding in your mouth. 

You feel the butterflies in your stomach making rounds at the slow pace, not enough to make you cum, but it leaves you teetering on the edge. Sirius moves closer to you, your legs on either side of his hips. He slowly takes off his shirt, making it a show for you. He leans down to give a kiss on your knee and pushes himself down onto the bed, laying down on his stomach in between you. 

Remus makes a move to take his fingers out of you, but the hand that’s on his wrist holds him there. 

“Sweetheart, let go, Sirius wants to make you feel good, don’t you wanna cum?” he asks in such an endearing voice. You moan into James’ mouth and he takes it as a queue to lean back and observe. You whine for him, wanting to feel the taste of his lips back on your once more, but he just gives you a sympathetic smile and mouths an apology at you. 

Sirius begins by slowly kissing up and down the inside of your thigh. He sucks onto the skin leaving marks behind, maroons and reds splotched all over your legs, small indentations of bite marks etched into your skin. He kisses the juncture between your thigh and mound and puts his thumbs onto your vulva.

His thumbs spread your lips apart and he lets out a groan at the sight, wetness covering your entire pussy, your hole quivering from the need to cum. You feel a warmth spread over your face all the way down to your chest. He latches his lips onto your clit, sucking on it harshly. 

“Holy fuck.” he hums around your bundle of nerves making electricity shoot up. He agrees with your sentiment. You were on edge form cumming the whole time Remus was fingering you, and this just shoots you right over the edge. Your hands make their way downwards, grabbing onto Sirius his long hair and pulling, hard. He lets out a moan at the roughness and scrapes his teeth against your clit. You give a short warning before your orgasm takes full control. You scratch at his scalp as you pull, as Sirius pulls you through the afterwaves of your orgasm. You feel your chest going up and down, heaving. 

Sirius gives a loving pat on your inner thigh before moving up again, and getting off of the bed, standing next to James on the left side of the bed. You look over at them and you feel Remus, who is still sitting beside you on the bed, take your hand and grab onto it. 

James scurries out of his clothes, first his shirt, revealing his toned chest from quidditch. Then his pyjama pants. You see Sirius next to him gulp as James’ cock springs up. James his face contorts into a look of proudness. A smirk plastered onto his face. He resumes his movements and gets onto the bed taking Sirius his former position between your legs. He spits onto the palm of his hand and strokes his cock slowly. 

“You ready, doll?” he asks you before inching closer. You let out a soft please and he strokes his cock up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness before slowly pressing into you. He inches in closer and closer, taking his time with you, letting you get adjusted to the stretch of his cock. 

You breathe in deeply, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Taking the time to enjoy the moment and feel the intimacy with your lovers. Remus who is feeling up your breasts, encompassing them with his hands and squeezing them, pinching your nipples and rolling them between his thumb. 

Sirius is still by your side, holding your hand and stroking his thumb up and comforting you. His other hand pushing away fly hairs and stroking your head, creating a soft moment between you both. Looking up at him, you can see the love and adoration in his eyes and he gives you a sweet smile. 

James’ hands rest on your waist, pressing into the skin there, you know he’s trying to hold himself back, but he’s trying to be considerate, your sweet boy. 

“It’s okay James, please.” you give him an encouraging nod and he stares at you for a while, trying to see if you are truly okay. Finding no resistance, he pushes further in almost bottoming out inside of you. He inches out slowly and pushes back in with careful intention, making sure to make you feel every drag slide against your walls. Hearing the lewd sounds the two of you make, feeling your hole contract around him. 

You both let out a sigh of relief at the sensation followed by a deep moan. He makes sure to hit you deep and slowly, dragging the sensations out. All that you feel, everything you feel coursing through your body is love. Undevoted love. Enveloped by your boyfriends, taking care of you in the way that you need. 

It encompasses your very being and you feel yourself tune out everything around you except for the feeling of safety, the pleasure of their comfort. Peace. You know they see it, see how you’re feeling, or maybe they even feel it themselves, because Sirius is squeezing tighter around your hand and Remus gives intentional soft strokes around your breast. It makes you want to cry and release every emotion you’ve felt for a while. Wanting to cry out in pure ecstasy. 

“It’s okay, you’re safe with us.” Remus tells you and you let a single tear drop when you squeeze your eyes shut. A silent ‘fuck’ leaves your mouth and your eyebrows scrunch together. They just hold you closer.

James picks up his pace slightly, his thumb moving to your clit, rolling circles on it with the pad of his finger, increasing the pleasure that shoots through your body. 

He digs his knees deeper into the mattress, laying the top of his feet flat on the bed and shifting his hips just ever so slightly, lowering them closer to the bed and his cock drags against your walls deliciously. 

James feels all his nerves being set on fire, feeling the tightening of your walls around him, the wetness making it so easy to glide in, and he feels the tip of his cock hit that spongy spot inside of you. Making you keen,

You lean your head back, releasing a loud moan. Your eyes shoot open and you grab at the bedsheet. Curling your toes and enclosing your thighs around James’ hips. You feel the familiar flare in the bottom of your stomach, the butterflies fluttering around. 

“Baby? Babes, I'm gonna cum, please.” you beg of James and he keeps repeatedly hitting your g-spot, keeping up the pace as before and tightening the circles he makes around your clit. He lets out a high pitched whine and looks down at where your bodies are connected, seeing your arousal around his cock, your hole pulsing around him. The stickiness on his thumb. 

Your breath hitches, Remus pinches your nipple, Sirius gives you a sweet kiss on your forehead and the soft strokes of James gives you everything you need to orgasm again. You squeeze tightly around James his cock and James hisses at the constriction, cumming just after you. He pumps in just a little bit longer, riding out both of your orgasms, until both of you become too sensitive. 

“You did so well darling, so beautiful for us, happy birthday baby.” 

(Down below my bday cake cuz y’all need to see it)

[gilbertscurls]

Everywhere ➵ Chris Sturniolo

The late afternoon sun bathed the street in a warm golden hue as you strolled toward the park, your thoughts drifting aimlessly. It had been one of those quiet days, the kind where time seemed to stretch out endlessly, leaving you too much space to think. You smiled to yourself, recalling the latest video Chris and his brothers had uploaded to their wildly popular YouTube channel.

Even though you’d known the trio for years—Chris, Nick, and Matt had been your friends since high school—it still amazed you to see how far they’d come. Their videos were blowing up, and the world was finally seeing what you’d known all along: the Sturniolo brothers were something special. But it wasn’t their success that had your head in the clouds today.

It was Chris.

He had always been the life of the group, the one who could make you laugh until your sides hurt. But somewhere along the way, the feeling you got when you were around him changed. It had become more intense, harder to ignore, and now… He was everywhere.

Every time you opened her phone, he was there—his smile, his laugh, his playful antics with Nick and Matt. Even when you weren’t scrolling through social media, something reminded you of him. A song on the radio, a phrase someone said in passing—everything seemed to lead back to Chris.

You reached the park and found your usual spot beneath a sprawling oak tree. Chris had texted you earlier, asking if you wanted to hang out, just the two of you. It wasn’t unusual, but today, there was a nervous energy buzzing under your skin. You didn’t know why.

Maybe it was because of that stupid dream you’d had the other night, where he’d leaned in close, his hand brushing your cheek as he whispered your name. You had woken up in a daze, the feeling of his touch lingering even after you opened her eyes. Ever since then, you couldn’t shake the thought of what it would be like if Chris saw you the same way you saw him.

Before you could dive too deeply into your thoughts, you heard his voice.

“Hey!”

You turned and saw Chris jogging toward you, his face lit up in that familiar grin that always made your heart skip a beat. He wore a faded band tee and baggy jeans, his hair tousled from the wind, and as always, he looked effortlessly good. You waved as he approached, your pulse quickening.

"Hey," you greeted him as he flopped down on the grass beside you, his usual carefree energy radiating off him.

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, just watching the world go by. Chris was always easy to be around—you never had to force conversation or feel like she needed to entertain you. He was like a constant presence, always there, even when words weren’t.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Chris said after a while, glancing over at you.

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” He leaned back on his hands, his eyes studying you in that way that made it impossible for you to lie.

You bit her lip. “Just… Stuff.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Stuff, huh? You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

You laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. “Fine. Thinking about you. Happy?”

His grin faltered for a split second, but it was so quick you almost missed it. He sat up straighter, his voice softer now. “Thinking about me? Why?”

You felt her cheeks heat up. “I don’t know. You’ve just been… Everywhere lately. On my phone, on my mind.” You forced a laugh, trying to downplay it. “It’s like I can’t escape you.”

Chris didn’t laugh like you thought he would. Instead, he stared at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to figure something out. The silence stretched between you, and for the first time, it felt a little heavy, like there was something unsaid hanging in the air.

“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, his tone more serious than usual.

You blinked, caught off guard by his question. “No, it’s not bad. It’s just… I don’t know. I guess I’ve just been thinking about us.”

His expression softened, and he leaned in a little closer, his voice low. “What about us?”

You hesitated, suddenly feeling vulnerable. This wasn’t how you had imagined this conversation going. You hadn’t planned on telling him, hadn’t even planned on confronting these feelings, but now that the moment was here, it felt impossible to hold back.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But lately, I just… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Chris was silent for a moment, and for the first time, you noticed the shift in his expression. There was no teasing grin, no playful glint in his eyes. Instead, he looked at you with an intensity that made your stomach flip.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice soft but steady, “I’ve been thinking about you too. For a long time.”

Your heart stopped. “What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you recognized. “I mean… It’s not just you who’s been seeing me everywhere. I can’t stop thinking about you either. Every time we hang out, every time I see you, it’s like you’re all I can focus on. It’s driving me crazy.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected him to feel the same way.

“I thought I was imagining things,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “I didn’t think you felt that way.”

Chris let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been trying to hide it for months.”

The vulnerability in his voice was something you weren’t used to hearing from him. Chris was always so carefree, so lighthearted, but now there was a weight to his words that made your heart ache.

“So, what do we do?” you asked quietly, your eyes searching his.

He reached out, his hand finding yours, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to fade away—the noise of the city, the buzz of the world. It was just you, sitting under the oak tree, with years of friendship and something more finally coming to the surface.

“Maybe we stop pretending we don’t feel what we feel,” he said, his voice soft but sure. “And see what happens.”

You looked down at your hands, your thumb brushing against his. “What if it changes everything?”

Chris smiled, and this time, it wasn’t teasing. It was warm, genuine. “Maybe it will. But maybe that’s okay.”

You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of the moment hung between them, heavy with possibility and uncertainty. But as Chris leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tentative kiss, all the fears, all the questions melted away.

In that moment, it didn’t matter what might change, what risks you were taking. All that mattered was the way he felt—everywhere.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06

[bunnis-monsters]

I remember venting about being upset that the fanfic series I put a lot of time and effort into wasn’t doing well on my anime account. It was pretty popular in the fandom, and everyone requested that I bring it back and continue it, so I did.

After posting it, something people had been pestering me and begging me for, it preformed terribly, which really killed my motivation. I posted a short vent, upset that it didn’t do well like my other posts did.

Do you know what the response to my vent was? People sent me asks saying I was being dramatic and ungrateful, that if I just kept posting the series and didn’t stop that it would still be popular.

I had taken a break from that series for mental health reasons(I was receiving death threats and being harassed) when before I had been pumping out chapters nearly weekly. Still, all that content, over 100k+ words of material wasn’t enough to keep them interested. They always wanted more, the threat of people leaving or unfollowing me if I didn’t post faster looming over my head like a dark cloud.

Writing became a chore. I didn’t view my readers as friends and comrades in my fandom, I viewed them as people that would leave the second I didn’t live up to their strict expectations.

This is all to say that I want you, the readers, to think about the author behind the works you read and love. Think about WHY you think it’s feasible for a person to be uploading every single week without a break. Why do you lose interest if an author isn’t working themselves to the bone to pump out chapters that could have been so much better if given the time to really flesh them out?

Be kinder to writers, be patient. We aren’t machines, and it takes time for us to make the content you want to see. Don’t rush us, and be grateful for all the free content you get to see with just a click or tap.

Don’t be the reason an author decides to give up writing.

[agena87]

Cloud Hair

I tried to recreate a hair I saw on Pinterest, but as always when I have an idea, I ended up doing something (for once not too much) different. It's far from perfect, but that's only my second hair (the first one is too shitty to be released tbh).

What to know:

-BGC -Male & female, teen to elder -100 swatches (24 EA/Maxis + 76 additional). I made two different .package files because I decided to make this colour slider compatible and it makes for a big ass file. -Polys: 9333 | 6531 | 4666 | 2799 -Disallowed for randoms -All occults (except werewolves) -Colour tagged -ONLY CHOOSE ONE FILE (it won't conflict, but why would you want two of the same hair?) depending on if you want the colour slider compatible version or not (or if you don't want a massive file)

---

TOU

🔸 Don’t claim as yours 🔸 Don’t re-upload 🔸 Recolours are OK (even including the mesh), just credit me and redirect to the original 🔸Obviously, if you do recolours, DO NOT PUT BEHIND A PAYWALL OF ANY KIND (no EA, no adlink, no whatever). And don't post it on Curseforge under any circumstance. 🔸 Edits are also OK, but the same rules as for recolours apply! (credit me, no paywall, no Curseforge) 🔸 Eat broccoli! 🥦 🔸 Enjoy! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

---

DOWNLOAD Patreon (always free) MediaFire (NOT colour slider compatible) MediaFire (colour slider compatible)

[rynwritesreid]

You belong to me| Spencer Reid

A/N: The rest of my uploads this week will be ones that have being requested, as I have a few waiting to be posted and I feel bad for the people waiting for their requests:) Jag älskar dig 🫶🏼

Summary: You and Spencer had called it quits on your “relationship” when Spencer refused to commit himself to you fully. However, Spencer didn’t realise how much he would hate seeing you flirt with somebody else. Happy ending(I promise).

Content: Smut and angst. Fem!reader. Dom!Spencer and Sub! reader. Possessive and to an extent asshole Spencer. Oral (F! receiving). Vaginal penetration. No mentions of contraception. Creampie. owning/claiming kink. overstimulation. 18+

Masterlist| Requests are open| Navigation

You stood in Spencer’s hotel room, filled with anger. Spencer had made it clear he didn’t want to be in a relationship with you, you had also seen him happily flirting with other women. So, why did he have a problem with you flirting with a man who was very clearly into you.

 

“Spencer, last time I checked you didn’t want to be in a relationship with me. So, you do not get to tell other men to back off when they are flirting with me.” You stated through gritted teeth.

 

Spencer's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he absorbed your words. His silence was heavy, thick with the tension that hung between you. The room seemed to shrink, suffocating you both in a cloud of unresolved emotions.

 

Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and possessiveness. "It's different, okay? I mean... I didn't think you'd actually go out and find someone else so quickly," he muttered, his gaze avoiding yours.

 

Anger surged within you at his audacity. "Oh, so it's all about your ego then? You want me to pine away for you while you have your fun? Newsflash, Spencer, I have needs too. I deserve to be happy."

 

His eyes flickered with regret before hardening again. "I never said you didn't deserve to be happy," he rebutted defensively.

 

Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Right. So, when I find happiness elsewhere, you suddenly have a problem with it? Sounds like double standards to me, Spencer."

 

Spencer's face flushed with frustration, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "It's not about double standards," he argued, his voice growing louder. "I just... I didn't expect to feel this way. Seeing you with someone else, it hurts."

 

“Oh, but you didn’t think how I would feel seeing you flirting with other people. God why is everything always about you?” you sighed; frustration etched into every line on your face. Spencer's words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the tumultuous nature of your relationship.

 

Spencer walked over to you, his steps measured and deliberate. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. The touch sent shivers down your spine, a reminder of the undeniable chemistry that had drawn you together in the first place.

 

“Not everything is about me. But I can’t let what’s mine flirt with somebody else.” Spencer's words hung in the air. Your breath caught in your throat as his words hung in the air, an intoxicating mixture of possessiveness and longing. The intensity of his gaze locked you in place, his touch branding your skin, igniting a flicker of desire deep within you.

 

“Spencer, you don’t get to say that anymore.” You tried to pull away from his grasp, but his grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh. The pain shot through you, mingling with the remnants of anger and desire that swirled in your veins.

 

"I do get to say it," he growled, his voice thick with a mix of dominance and desperation. "Because no matter what we've said or done, I can't shake this feeling that you're mine."

 

Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between the conflicting emotions swirling within you. Spencer's possessiveness was suffocating, but a part of you couldn't deny the thrill it ignited deep in your core. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, melting your resolve with every passing second.

 

But you refused to let him dictate your happiness any longer. With a surge of strength, you wrenched yourself free from his grip, stepping back and putting some distance between you. The pain lingered on your skin where his fingers had dug into you, a stark reminder of the toxicity that had seeped into your relationship.

 

"No, Spencer," you said firmly, your voice trembling but resolute. "I am not yours to claim. I deserve freedom, happiness, and someone who respects me enough to let me make my own choices."

 

His face contorted with a mix of anger and hurt; his breathing ragged as he struggled to regain control. "You don't understand," he spat out, his voice dripping with venom. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. You're all I think about, all I want. And you're just throwing it away for some cheap fling."

 

"No, Spencer," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "This is not a cheap fling. This is me reclaiming my worth and refusing to settle for less than I deserve."

 

"You're mine," he repeated, his voice filled with a mixture of desperation and frustration. “You’ll always be mine. You’ve just got to accept it.”

 

Spencer’s lips than found themselves on yours. You wanted to protest, to pull away from the kiss. But you couldn’t, this is all you ever wanted. You just wanted Spencer, and you knew you were just flirting with that officer to see if Spencer would get jealous.

 

The kiss was electric, a collision of passion and longing that left you breathless. Spencer's lips moved against yours with a fervour that mirrored the tumultuous emotions swirling inside both of you. As his hands roamed your body, igniting a fire that had never fully extinguished, you couldn't help but succumb to the seductive pull of his touch.

 

Spencer's lips curled into a predatory smile, sensing your surrender. His grip tightened even further, bordering on painful, but you found yourself oddly drawn to the discomfort, craving the mix of pleasure and pain that only he seemed capable of providing.

 

You melted into his touch, your body responding eagerly to his every command. The familiar dance of dominance and submission played out between you, the lines blurring as pleasure mingled with the lingering pain from his earlier grip.

 

Spencer pulled away from the kiss, his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered darkly, "You may think you're your own person, but deep down, you know it's different between us."

 

Your heart raced in your chest, conflicted, and torn between the intoxicating desire that Spencer ignited within you and the boundaries you were determined to set. His words sank deep into your subconscious, stirring a primal need to surrender to him completely.

 

“I’m yours Spencer, I’ll forever be yours.” The words slipped out before you could fully comprehend them, a whisper of submission that hung heavily in the air. Spencer's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and triumph, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. His hold on you tightened possessively, his fingers digging into your flesh as if marking you as his territory.

 

Spencer's triumphant smile sent chills down your spine, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through your veins. The possessiveness in his touch both thrilled and frightened you, but the undeniable connection between you made it difficult to resist.

 

Spencer’s hand found their way to your shirt, his fingers undoing the buttons slowly, revealing the vulnerable flesh beneath. His touch was both deliberate and tender, his gaze never leaving yours as he explored every inch of your exposed skin.

 

As the fabric fell away, exposing your bare chest to the cool air, Spencer's eyes darkened with desire. His fingers traced a path of fire along your collarbone, down your abdomen, until they reached the waistband of your pants. With a quick flick of his wrist, he unbuttoned them, his touch igniting a trail of need that burned through you.

 

You could feel the hunger radiating from him, a primal urge that matched your own. There was no denying the raw connection between you, no matter how toxic it may have become. It was a dance, an intoxicating game of power and surrender that neither of you could resist.

 

Spencer's lips found yours once again, claiming you with a ferocity that left you breathless. The kiss was a maelstrom of passion and possessiveness, fuelling the fire that raged within both of you. His hands explored every inch of your exposed skin, igniting a trail of desire that consumed you both.

 

As his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a fiery path in their wake, your mind struggled to reconcile the conflicting emotions raging within. Sensation mingled with uncertainty; pleasure intertwined with doubt. But in that moment, none of it mattered. All that existed was the intoxicating connection between you and Spencer.

 

You hadn’t realised but Spencer was pushing you towards the bed, his touch guiding you with an intensity that made your heart race. The sheets beckoned, a sanctuary where the turmoil of your relationship could be momentarily forgotten. As you sank into the softness, surrendering to the desires that consumed you both, the world outside ceased to exist.

 

Spencer's eyes held yours, filled with a mixture of hunger and adoration. Each movement, each touch, was a delicate balance between dominance and tenderness, awakening a whirlwind of emotions within you. His hands roamed your body with a possessiveness that both thrilled and terrified you, igniting a fire that threatened to consume everything in its path.

 

The air brimmed with anticipation as Spencer lowered himself beside you on the bed, his body radiating heat. Your souls seemed intertwined, bound by an unspoken understanding that surpassed words. His lips found your neck once again, leaving a trail of kisses that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

 

With a gentle touch, he traced a path down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. His lips worshipped at every inch of your skin, leaving no part untouched by his fervent desire.

 

As Spencer's lips trailed lower, his hands followed suit, caressing your thighs with a tender touch that made every nerve ending tingle. The anticipation built with each passing second, the air heavy with desire and the promise of unbridled pleasure.

 

Spencer's eyes met yours, you knew he was asking for consent, but you could sense he was asking for redemption. You hesitated for a moment, caught between the allure of surrender and the boundaries you were determined to set. The toxic history of your relationship with Spencer tugged at the edges of your mind, warning you of the potential consequences of giving in to his desires once more.

 

But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a glimmer of vulnerability beneath the seductive gaze. It was a plea for redemption, an unspoken promise that this time would be different. And so, with a mix of trepidation and newfound hope, you nodded, granting him the consent he sought.

 

Without hesitation, he lowered his head, his hot breath grazing against your sensitive flesh. His tongue delved between your folds, exploring, and tasting every inch as if committing it to memory. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, each lick and suck sending shockwaves through your body.

 

The intensity built with every passing second, reaching a crescendo that threatened to consume you entirely. Your fingers threaded through Spencer's hair, urging him closer, deeper. He responded with a primal growl against your skin, intensifying the sensations coursing through you. His mouth became a vortex of pleasure, his tongue expertly tracing patterns that drove you to the edge and back again.

 

You were lost in a symphony of ecstasy, the boundaries of pleasure and pain blurring as Spencer pushed you further towards the edge. His touch was both tender and possessive, his tongue exploring every inch of your intimate depths with a voracious hunger that left no doubt of his intentions.

 

The room filled with your gasps and moans; the air heavy with the scent of desire. Spencer's fingers joined in the dance, tracing maddening circles on your swollen bud, coaxing you closer to the precipice. The tension built within you, coiling tightly like a spring ready to snap.

 

And just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he plunged two fingers inside you, filling you completely. The sensation sent shockwaves through your body, pleasure spiraling outwards from the depths of your core. Your back arched off the bed involuntarily as he expertly curled his fingers, hitting that sweet spot that had always driven you wild.

 

The world faded away as pleasure engulfed you, every touch from Spencer a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through your body. The boundaries you had set were shattered in the wake of the pleasure he provided, replaced by an insatiable hunger for more. Your mind became clouded with desire as he continued his relentless assault on your senses, pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion.

 

Spencer's movements grew more intense, his fingers plunging deeper inside you, as if he was determined to claim every inch of your being. The room filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths, mingled with his low growls of satisfaction. The intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure heightened your arousal, blurring the lines between reality and fantasy.

 

As the waves of pleasure crashed over you, each crest stronger than the last, you surrendered completely to the intoxicating abyss. Your body writhed beneath Spencer's touch, aching for release as he skilfully brought you to the precipice of ecstasy.

 

The tension built within you, coiling tightly like a spring ready to snap. The room filled with your gasps and moans; the air heavy with the scent of desire. Spencer's fingers joined in the dance, tracing maddening circles on your swollen bud, coaxing you closer to the precipice. The intensity grew with every passing moment, until you were teetering on the edge of an explosive climax.

 

Just as you were about to tip over into blissful release, Spencer withdrew his fingers, leaving you panting, throbbing, and desperate for more. A whimper of frustration escaped your lips as he grinned wickedly above you. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of satisfaction and mischief.

 

"Patience," he whispered huskily, his voice dripping with promises of pleasure yet to come.

 

You watched as Spencer slowly shed his clothes, revealing every inch of his sculpted body. Your breath hitched at the sight, desire coursing through your veins like a wildfire. The hunger in his eyes mirrored your own, igniting a primal need that threatened to consume you both.

 

With a predatory grace, he prowled towards you, his gaze never leaving yours. The weight of his presence filled the room, intoxicating and overwhelming. As he reached the edge of the bed, his hands moved to grip your hips possessively, his touch searing into your skin.

 

"I want to taste every inch of you," Spencer growled, his voice dripping with raw desire. His words sent shivers down your spine, anticipation coiling tightly in the pit of your stomach.

 

His lips crashed against yours again, a fierce kiss that left no doubt of his intentions. His tongue tangled with yours in a dance as old as time, exploring and staking claim to every corner of your mouth. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady combination of desire and something deeper, something that spoke of a connection that went beyond the physical.

 

Spencer's hands roamed your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He traced the curve of your waist, the swell of your breasts, as if he were memorizing every inch of you. His touch was possessive, but tender, an embodiment of the conflicting emotions that filled both your hearts.

 

With a deft motion, Spencer pushed himself up so that he hovered above you. His eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. There was a hunger there, but also a vulnerability - a vulnerability that mirrored your own.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered, "I want to show you how much I love you." His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and the weight of past mistakes.

 

In that moment, you saw the truth in his eyes. His words weren't just empty promises, but a genuine declaration of love and desire. The toxic history between you and Spencer had been a tumultuous journey, filled with heartache and pain. But now, in this moment, there was a glimmer of hope, a chance for redemption.

 

You took a deep breath, allowing yourself to let go of the past and embrace the present. With a surge of courage, you reached up and cupped his face in your hands, pulling him closer to you. The taste of his lips ignited a fire within you, fuelling your hunger for him.

 

Spencer's hands roamed your body with a renewed passion, his touch setting your skin ablaze. Every caress was filled with purpose, a testament to the depths of his desire for you. You surrendered yourself completely to him, allowing him to explore every inch of your being.

 

As the world around you faded away, it was just the two of you locked in an intimate dance of love and lust. The room seemed to disappear as you and Spencer became lost in each other. Every touch, every kiss, was a testament to the fire that burned between you.

 

His hands moved over your body with a reverence that spoke of the love he had for you. With each caress, he worshipped every curve and every inch of your skin. It was as though he wanted to memorize every detail, etching it into his memory forever.

 

You felt adored under his touch, cherished in a way you had never experienced before. It was intoxicating, the way he made you feel desired, beautiful, and wanted. In his embrace, you found solace and passion intertwining, creating a powerful connection that surpassed mere physicality.

 

The heat between you grew with each passing moment, igniting a hunger that consumed every fibber of your being. Spencer's lips trailed along your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses in their wake. His breath was warm against your skin as he whispered words of love and longing, his voice husky with desire. You shivered under his touch, the anticipation building to a fever pitch.

 

With a fluid motion, Spencer eased himself inside you, filling you completely. The connection between you was electric, a fusion of bodies and souls coming together in a moment of exquisite pleasure. His movements were deliberate and measured, each thrust taking you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

 

Your hands clung to his back, nails digging into his skin as waves of pleasure coursed through your body. Every stroke, every collision of flesh against flesh sent shockwaves of delight rippling through your veins. The symphony of your moans and sighs mingled with his own grunts of pleasure, creating a harmony that echoed through the room.

 

The rhythm between you intensified, your bodies moving in perfect synchrony. You lost yourself in the dance, surrendering to the primal urge that consumed you both. The world around you ceased to exist as pleasure became your only reality.

 

Spencer's thrusts grew faster and more urgent, each one driving you closer to the edge of rapture. The room echoed with the sounds of your bodies colliding, a symphony of raw desire and ecstasy. The air crackled with tension as you both chased that elusive release, the anticipation building to a crescendo.

 

Your senses were heightened, every touch from Spencer igniting fireworks within you. His hands roamed your body with a possessiveness that left no doubt of his devotion. You could feel the intensity in his movements, his need to bring you to the pinnacle of pleasure.

 

As his lips claimed yours once more, you felt that familiar coil of desire tighten within you. It was as if the whole universe had condensed into this moment, this connection between two souls hungry for each other. Spencer's name escaped your lips like a prayer, mingling with gasps and moans.

 

With each thrust, you soared higher, teetering on the edge of an explosive release. The intensity of Spencer's touch, combined with the overwhelming love and longing between you, sent your body into a frenzy of pleasure. The world around you blurred into a haze as your senses heightened, every nerve ending electrified.

 

Spencer's movements became more desperate, his thrusts reaching a fevered pace. He was so close, as were you. With each collision of your bodies, it felt like an eruption of pure bliss was just within reach.

 

Your eyes locked, the connection between you unbreakable. There was an unspoken understanding in that moment, a shared desire to push each other past the limits of ecstasy. You wanted to give him everything, to show him how much you loved him.

 

As if sensing your thoughts, Spencer's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh. His breath mingled with yours in ragged gasps as he whispered words of love and devotion against your skin.

 

Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the symphony of your moans and the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. The tension that had built between you was unraveled in that moment, as you both gave yourselves completely to the pleasure that surged through your bodies.

 

Time seemed to stand still as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. You clung to each other, lost in the intense pleasure that consumed every inch of your being. The room filled with the sounds of your cries and moans, a symphony of passion and desire.

 

As your climax approached, you felt a surge of warmth intertwine with the pleasure coursing through you. It wasn't just physical release anymore; it was something deeper, something that transcended the boundaries of mere pleasure. It was a connection forged in love and vulnerability, a sacred bond between two souls.

 

In that final moment, bliss washed over you like a tidal wave. Your bodies trembled and convulsed together, locked in an embrace that defied explanation. It was an explosion of sensation and emotion that left you breathless and sated. The world seemed to fade away as you clung to each other, riding out the aftershocks of pleasure.

 

As your breathing slowed and your heart rates steadied, you remained tangled in each other's arms, basking in the aftermath of your passion. This moment, this connection, felt so different from anything you had experienced before. It was more than just the physical act; it was an affirmation of your love for one another.

 

Spencer pressed gentle kisses against your forehead, his touch filled with tenderness and adoration. You could feel his chest rise and fall against yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in perfect harmony with your own. The room was filled with a blissful silence, a peaceful sanctuary created by your union.

 

In the tranquil aftermath, you and Spencer lay entwined, bodies still humming with the echoes of pleasure. Your fingers traced lazy patterns along his bare chest, revelling in the warmth that radiated between you. The weight of his arm draped across your waist provided a comforting reassurance, grounding you in the reality of your newfound connection.

 

As the room filled with hushed whispers and soft sighs, you marvelled at the journey that had led you both to this moment. The toxic history that had once plagued your relationship now seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by the raw love and desire that now bound you together.

 

Spencer shifted slightly, his lips brushing against your temple in a tender kiss. His breath danced against your skin as he whispered words of affection, promising to cherish and protect what you had created. With each gentle word, he washed away any lingering doubts or fears, replacing them with a deep sense of security and belonging.

~Join my taglist~

~taglist~

@iluvreid @nomajdetective @drspencieee @katieeeee314 @evvy96 @oliviah-25 @starkid024 @emalynvtgtgfhvgg @krokietino @xohoneybun @spencerreidwifeee @purplepistachi0 @pleasantwitchgarden @bitchassbecky691 @piperb400 @queermaxwooo @gemofthenight @topguncultleader @luvpiercethekaty @anna-belle-xd @catsareawesomek @drreidsfavwhxre @oureternalbond@beth-gallagher22 @lookingforgodintheclouds @firstunmannedflyingdeskset

[slytherheign]

A WALK TO REMEMBER | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x reader

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SUMMARY: you take one last walk with the love of your life.

WARNINGS: illness (unspecified), HEAVY angst, insecurities, death. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by the movie/novel with the same title, but only slightly. THIS IS A GENDER NEUTRAL FIC BTW, but if you see something that pertains to specific gender then pls reach out so i can change it. also, i’ve planned another part for this focusing on their first walk but it’s still not finished. though when that part comes out, you can either read it as a one-shot or a prequel for this. EDIT: the prequel is out! READ HERE. again, i apologize for the lack of uploads, i just got busy with university and life in general. thank you for understanding and enjoy reading! you might want to get tissues before you proceed.

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS AWTR (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

The scent of the hospital permeated the room, mingling with the soft whirring of medical pieces of equipment. You were lying on your hospital bed, your frail form engulfed by the sterile white sheets. Your family surrounded you, their faces etched with worry and exhaustion.

The doctor entered the room, his expression grave. You watched him closely, a flicker of hope dancing within your eyes. Perhaps there was still a chance, a new treatment or some kind of breakthrough medication.

But as the doctor spoke, his words fell like heavy stones, shattering your fragile heart and optimism. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice laced with regret. "But it seems the treatments have stopped working."

Your heart sank like an anchor in your chest. You felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving you gasping for breath. Your family's hushed whispers filled the silence, their words a blur as tears clouded your vision. "I-I don't understand," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. "What does that mean?"

Your mother's trembling hand reached out to grasp yours, her eyes brimming with tears. "It means we have to consider other options, sweetheart," she said, her voice breaking with emotion.

But you knew what those "other options" meant. It meant more pain, more uncertainty, and the terrifying prospect of saying goodbye. You turned away, burying your face in your pillow as a sob wracked your body.

The doctor spoke with your family and discussed the other options. You listened to his words, but they felt distant, as if they were coming from the end of a long tunnel. You knew what he was saying, and you could grasp the gravity of his words, but you couldn't bring yourself to fully process them.

“What do we think?” he asked, looking at your faces for an answer. 

If you were being honest, a part of you didn’t want to try anymore. You didn’t want any more pain. You were already tired—exhausted, even.

But then you remembered him.

You remembered Peter.

And you remembered how you promised him that you would do everything to survive. You promised that you would keep trying until all was well. 

After a moment of unnerving silence, you spoke. “I think we should do it,” you breathed out, looking up at your parents and your doctor. “The other options… let’s do it,” you smiled weakly.

So, that was what you did. You kept trying.

Peter lightly traced the lines on your hand as you waited for your order. Every now and then, he would look up and gaze at you lovingly. You couldn’t help but chuckle. “What are you doing?” you said, smiling.

“Admiring you,” he smiled, intertwining his hand with yours atop the table.

The smile left your face almost instantly. “Even when there’s nothing left to admire?” you stated sadly.

He immediately frowned at that. “What are you saying?”

“You know what I’m saying…”

“Y/N…”

“Peter, I’m not the same as I was. I don’t look like what I used to when you fell in love with me.”

“Stop.”

“No, Peter. I’m pale as snow. I look so sick, I’ve lost my hair. This—” you pointed at your head. “This is just a wig. My real hair is gone—the hair that I know you loved playing with and twirling the ends with your finger. I’ve lost a lot of weight—I don’t have the chubby cheeks you loved to pinch anymore. I-I’m so w-weak,” you sniffed. “Look at me, Pete—I can’t even stand on my own feet anymore. I have to be in a wheelchair.”

A tear fell on Peter’s cheek but he quickly wiped it when he noticed the waiter approaching. You immediately turned your face at the window, pretending to look at the parking lot on the other side so the poor waiter wouldn’t notice the emotional distress you were in.

Peter smiled at the waiter. “On second thought, can we take these out?” he gestured to the food. The waiter smiled in return before picking up your table number and taking the food back to pack it up for the two of you. Peter sadly looked at you as you continued to stare at the window. He heard you sniffing and he cursed himself for not knowing the right words to say at the moment. God, if he only knew how to take this pain away from you, he would do it right this instant.

He thanked the waiter, grabbing the paper bag with one hand and placing his other on your cheek to turn your face to him. He wiped the tears with his thumb before moving his hand to clasp yours. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“To your favorite place.”  

He sat on the bench beside your wheelchair before opening the takeout bag and handing your food to you. The two of you ate in peace while admiring the sight of the beach in front of you, the cool breeze that swept off the ocean instantly finding its way to your bodies.

You remembered this beach. It was where Peter asked you to be his, and it was where you answered him “yes”. You remembered how it was snowing then, and how both of you thought it was weird, but beautiful nonetheless.

Moments after you finished eating and Peter threw the trash in a garbage can that was nearby, he cleaned his hands with an alcohol spray. He then went back to you, knelt down, and held your hand with both of his. “I have an idea.”

“A good one or a bad one?”

“A good one. A very good one.”

There was a glint of excitement in his eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at him.

“Well then, count me in,” you smiled.

He smirked before standing up and starting to carry you bridal style. 

“Peter—Pete! What are you doing?!”

“Just trust me, okay?”

You looked at him, searching his eye for some kind of clue to what he was planning on doing. Unfortunately, you couldn’t find a clue or anything. “Okay,” you forfeited.

He noticed the slight pout you made and he rolled his eyes jokingly. “You really know how to get me, huh?” he chuckled. “Fine, I’ll tell you what we’re doing,” he said, starting to move his feet towards the beach. “You and I, my love, are going for a walk.”

Peter carried you as he gently walked along the sandy shore, his footsteps leaving imprints that would soon be washed away by the tide. You stared up at him, memorizing his features just like you did every time you would look at him. His hair moved smoothly with the flow of the breeze, his mouth looking perfect as he talked about something you weren’t really paying attention to because you were busy paying attention to his face. And then you wondered how a man as beautiful as him loved you. You smiled, thinking you must’ve done something really good in your life for you to have him.

Seagulls soared overhead, their cries blending with the gentle rustle of the palm trees lining the beach. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, a poignant backdrop to the bittersweet moment you were having.

Right. This was a bittersweet moment. There was something you haven’t told him yet.

“Pete, can we sit for a moment?” he frowned but did what you asked for nonetheless. He set you down gently on the sand, sitting beside you right after. 

You sat in companionable silence, the only sounds you were focusing on now were the sounds of Peter’s breathing and your heart’s beating. With each beat, you drew closer to the inevitable. You needed to tell him what he deserved to know.

“Pete—”

“Y/N—”

You laughed. “Okay, you go first,” you told him.

He smiled. “You were wrong,” he stated after a moment. 

“I’m confused.”

“You were wrong,” he said again. “You were wrong when you said that there is nothing left to admire about you. You were wrong because there is always something to admire about you. When I look at you, I question myself if you’re even real, because surely a person as perfect as you could not exist. The way you smile at the smallest compliments, the way you tilt your head back when you laugh at something, the way your brows knit together when you’re confused, the way your tongue sticks out sometimes when you’re concentrating—everything about you, big and small, I admire them. And I love them.”

“Surely, there are some imperfections in me,” you said.

“Yes, of course, we all have them. But those imperfections are what makes you perfect.”

“But I don’t look the same as I was before—”

“And I don’t care. Y/N, you are perfect in my eyes. Listen to me, I love you. I don’t care if you lost all your hair, or if you lose your teeth, or if you lose everything you have—I don’t care what else you lose as long as I don’t lose you.”

Oh.

As long as he didn’t lose me.

Your heart should’ve leaped with joy when you heard those words. But instead, it shattered like a plate of glass getting thrown into a wall. You hated this feeling. And you hated the feeling you would soon make Peter feel.

“Peter…” you called his name. “Pete—I love you,” you sniffed. “I love you,” you repeated. “You know that, right?”

“Of course,” he nodded, a tear escaping his eyes.

“And because I love you so much… I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“They didn’t work,” you cried.

“What didn’t work? I don’t understand.”

“When my treatments stopped working, my family and I decided to try the other options. Those other options,” your voice broke. “Those options didn’t work either, Peter…”

“W-What does that mean?”

“That means that I’m dying, Peter. And there’s nothing left to stop it.”

“No.”

You held both of his hands when you noticed them shaking.

“It’s inevitable,” you explained, looking at his hands instead of focusing on his face. You couldn’t look at him while he was crying. You couldn't do it. Your heart wouldn’t be able to bear it.

“No no no no no.”

“I love you, Peter.” 

“Y-you can’t—no. Maybe there’s still a chanc—”

You shook your head, lips trembling as you kissed his hands. “I love you.”

“What about our dreams, the future we would have? The family we would make? Y/N…”

“Peter, it’s getting cold,” you whispered. “We should go back.”

“But—please, Y/N. Y-You just can’t…”

“Peter, it’s getting really cold…”

“You can’t just leave me, I don’t think I can live without you. I already lost a lot of people—”

“I love you, Peter,” you repeated.

“I–I can’t lose you too…”

And in one frail movement, everything turned black.

As soon as you opened your eyes, the darkness from your eyelids was changed into the blinding white of the hospital room. To your left were machines that connected to your body, the only reason why you were still breathing. To your right was Peter, sound asleep on his chair while he held your hand in his.

If you were back in here, then that would mean one thing… you didn’t have much time left.

Your face was pale and the once vibrant eyes you had were now dimmed by the weight of your illness. Despite the pain that was evident in your features, there was a peacefulness in your expression. You had come to terms with your fate. 

You could feel it. Death. It wasn’t just at your doorstep, it was already beside you, just waiting for the right moment to touch you and consume you. You supposed you should be thankful, for the heavens did not take you yet.

If it would take you within this week, then so be it. But you hoped it would at least be merciful.

If it would take you today, then so be it. But you hoped it would spare you a chance for one more wish. 

One last wish.

To give you time. 

Not more time to live, but just enough.

Just enough time to say goodbye.

“Peter?” you said, squeezing his hand with all the strength you had left.

He woke up, eyes widening when he realized you were awake.

“You’re awake,” he smiled, you swore you saw his eyes tearing up at the sight of you.

Your features were drawn with pain and fatigue and your body was weakened by the relentless progression of your illness. But despite your frailty, there was a quiet strength in your eyes, a determination to make the most of the time you had left.

“I don’t think I have much time left,” you admitted.

Tears welled up in Peter's eyes as he stood up to lean in and kiss your forehead, his heart breaking at the thought of losing you. He sat back down again, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of love and sorrow. He longed to take away your pain, to make you whole again, but he knew that was beyond his power.

"I'm sorry, Peter," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wish things could have been different."

He squeezed your hand gently, his heart breaking at the sadness in your voice. "Don't apologize" he replied, his voice filled with tenderness. "You have nothing to be sorry for. We've shared so much love and memories together. Your time may be shorter than what we’ve hoped for, but I’m very lucky and glad that you decided to spend most of it with me."

A small smile played at the corners of your lips and you moved your hand to caress his cheek. "I love you, Peter," you whispered, voice trembling with emotion.

"I love you too, Y/N," Peter replied, his voice thick with tears. "More than anything in this world."

“My parents?” you asked.

“They’re outside.”

“Can you please call them for me?”

“Of course,” he said, standing up to fetch your parents. He stayed outside the room to give you and your family some privacy.

“Oh, sweetheart,” your mother immediately ran up to you, stroking both of your cheeks gently with her hands. Your father stood behind her, you could tell by their faces that they’d been crying.

God, you hated seeing them like this.

“Mom, Dad,” you whispered.

“We’re here,” your mother responded, wiping your tears with her thumbs. “We’re right here.”

Your father reached out to hold your hand. “We’re always here.”

“I don’t know w-what to say… I can’t think of words that are nearly enough to express how grateful I am to each of you,” you stated. “Thank you for everything you have done and given me since I was a child. Thank you for reading me bedtime stories when I was little, for bringing me to school and then picking me up when it was done, for cooking my favorite meals, for hugging me when I was sad, for cleaning up my wounds whenever I injured myself while playing, for being there for me through my first period, first heartbreak—I am who I am because of you.”

You glanced at your dad only to see him crying, his grip on your hand getting tighter as if trying to see if the tighter he held you the longer you would stay with them. You never saw him cry like this before.

“We love you so much,” he whispered.

“We’re so proud of you,” your mother added.

Your father agreed, nodding. “You’re the strongest person I know. You’re even stronger than me,” he chuckled sadly.

“I love you both so much,” you cried. “I don’t want to leave, but the world has other plans for me… thank you for being the best parents I could ever ask for.”

And there it was.

You could feel death’s hand slowly reach for you. You closed your eyes, it was getting hard to breathe. 

“C-Can you please call Peter?” you breathed out.

With all your might, you opened your eyes again. Peter was now beside you, holding your right hand while both your parents held your left. You stayed like that for a moment, clinging to each other as if you could defy fate itself. But you all knew that you couldn’t.

Your breaths came shallow and labored, each one a struggle against the weight of your failing body. You closed your eyes, trying to block out the pain that pulsed through you with every heartbeat. But despite your efforts, you couldn't escape the truth that loomed over you like a dark cloud.

You could see and hear them crying, the grips they had on your hands getting tighter and tighter and tighter… afraid that if they held you loosely then you would slip away sooner.

But that wasn’t how it worked. A tight grip would not save you. There was nothing they could do to change the inevitable.

As the seconds stretched into minutes, your thoughts began to wander, drifting through memories of happier times. You thought of your childhood, filled with laughter and innocence, and of the love you had shared with your family, with your friends, and with Peter.

The memories faded as soon as they came. And then you felt death’s touch linger on your skin, its distance becoming closer to you than you could ever imagine. Like a distant echo growing louder with each passing moment, the realization dawned on you that your time was running out. You tearfully looked around the room, taking in the faces of your loved ones, each one bearing pain and sorrow.

Your strength continued to wane, your body growing weaker with each second. And as you lay there, surrounded by the ones you loved, you found a sense of peace in knowing that you weren't alone.

With a final breath, you closed your eyes. You welcomed death’s touch with a smile, surrendering to the darkness that beckoned you. And as your family and Peter wept beside you, you drifted away, hoping to have left behind a legacy of love and memories that would live on long after you were gone.

7 MONTHS LATER.

Taking a walk along the beach never felt the same anymore. 

Peter concluded that without you beside him, it wasn’t as fun as it used to be. The only fun thing for him, he guessed, was the fact that with each step he walked along the sandy shore, the memories with you played in his head and he would smile as he recounted them. Sometimes, he could even feel your presence somehow.

He ditched his shoes and played with the sand with his feet. It only took him a few minutes before he decided to wear his shoes again and leave the beach.

The next place he decided to visit was the cemetery. He stood across your grave, still not believing that 7 months had passed since you took your final breath. There was not a day that passed when he didn’t miss your presence or longed for your touch. He sat on the grass in front of your tombstone.

“You know…” he started speaking. “Walking along the beach used to be my favorite. After you died and I started doing it again, I wondered why I didn’t like doing it as much as I did before. But now I know why… I realized that it only became my favorite because I was doing it with you.”

He played with the grass with his hands, picking some of them as he tried to hold back his tears. “God, Y/N,  it’s been 7 months and it still hurts the same… I miss you so so much. I miss our walks, our dates—I miss everything about you,” he cried.

“I want to love walking along the beach again, but I know I only loved it in the first place because I was with you,” he continued. “To be honest, I don’t think I’ll do those walks again, at least not now… I don’t know… it’s just, without you, I can’t—”

Something just crawled and bit his hand. “Shit,” he swatted the spider, before facing your grave again.

“Anyway, I just want you to know that I will forever treasure those walks that I did with you,” he smiled weakly but genuinely, wiping his tears. “I will never forget them.” 

Especially that last one.

That last walk.

That was a walk to remember.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx @checo2011

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan @willowhaired @sflame15-blog @pompeygirl89 @remuslupinsdocs

[fabaulti]

I think most of us should take the whole ai scraping situation as a sign that we should maybe stop giving google/facebook/big corps all our data and look into alternatives that actually value your privacy.

i know this is easier said than done because everybody under the sun seems to use these services, but I promise you it’s not impossible. In fact, I made a list of a few alternatives to popular apps and services, alternatives that are privacy first, open source and don’t sell your data.

right off the bat I suggest you stop using gmail. it’s trash and not secure at all. google can read your emails. in fact, google has acces to all the data on your account and while what they do with it is already shady, I don’t even want to know what the whole ai situation is going to bring. a good alternative to a few google services is skiff. they provide a secure, e3ee mail service along with a workspace that can easily import google documents, a calendar and 10 gb free storage. i’ve been using it for a while and it’s great.

a good alternative to google drive is either koofr or filen. I use filen because everything you upload on there is end to end encrypted with zero knowledge. they offer 10 gb of free storage and really affordable lifetime plans.

google docs? i don’t know her. instead, try cryptpad. I don’t have the spoons to list all the great features of this service, you just have to believe me. nothing you write there will be used to train ai and you can share it just as easily. if skiff is too limited for you and you also need stuff like sheets or forms, cryptpad is here for you. the only downside i could think of is that they don’t have a mobile app, but the site works great in a browser too.

since there is no real alternative to youtube I recommend watching your little slime videos through a streaming frontend like freetube or new pipe. besides the fact that they remove ads, they also stop google from tracking what you watch. there is a bit of functionality loss with these services, but if you just want to watch videos privately they’re great.

if you’re looking for an alternative to google photos that is secure and end to end encrypted you might want to look into stingle, although in my experience filen’s photos tab works pretty well too.

oh, also, for the love of god, stop using whatsapp, facebook messenger or instagram for messaging. just stop. signal and telegram are literally here and they’re free. spread the word, educate your friends, ask them if they really want anyone to snoop around their private conversations.

regarding browser, you know the drill. throw google chrome/edge in the trash (they really basically spyware disguised as browsers) and download either librewolf or brave. mozilla can be a great secure option too, with a bit of tinkering.

if you wanna get a vpn (and I recommend you do) be wary that some of them are scammy. do your research, read their terms and conditions, familiarise yourself with their model. if you don’t wanna do that and are willing to trust my word, go with mullvad. they don’t keep any logs. it’s 5 euros a month with no different pricing plans or other bullshit.

lastly, whatever alternative you decide on, what matters most is that you don’t keep all your data in one place. don’t trust a service to take care of your emails, documents, photos and messages. store all these things in different, trustworthy (preferably open source) places. there is absolutely no reason google has to know everything about you.

do your own research as well, don’t just trust the first vpn service your favourite youtube gets sponsored by. don’t trust random tech blogs to tell you what the best cloud storage service is — they get good money for advertising one or the other. compare shit on your own or ask a tech savvy friend to help you. you’ve got this.

[pure-smut]

say red: part 3

featuring: Iwaizumi Hajime x f!reader

contains: angst to fluff to smut, happy ending, cunnilingus, missionary, creampie, dom!Iwaizumi, degradation, dirty talk

note: all characters are over 18!

MDNI | 18+ content

word count: 2.3k

series: 1. say red | 2. say red | 3. say red

masterlist

a/n: phew this is the final chapter!! what a ride. i think this is the longest series I've written by word count so yeah! enjoy!!

You skip the next two project meet ups, including the messages Iwaizumi sends you, which you mute without reading. You avoid him in class, leaving early before he can catch up to you.

Instead, you retreat to the library, working on the project by yourself. It’s like there’s a dark cloud over you, following you around. Your chest feels empty and it’s a chore to make yourself smile and laugh in class but you don’t want anyone to know you’re miserable. Worse, miserable because of him.

You see Iwaizumi in a coffee shop once, the same one you both went to. He’s hunched over his notes, brows furrowed, one hand in his dark hair. He’s nibbling on his bottom lip in concentration. You stare at him, not able to tear your eyes away.

You want to go inside, sit down next to him and flash him one of your sweet smiles. You want to smooth the notch in his brow, feel his chest under your palms, feel his grip on your waist.

You want to talk to him and laugh with him again. You want to annoy him, make him roll his eyes and sigh.

But then you remember his kiss – the kiss – and your chest goes tight. You remember the fist he has around your heart. You turn away from him, walking briskly home.

You can avoid him until the end of the semester. Once the project is handed in, you never have a reason to see him again. You can just pretend he doesn’t exist. Easy.

If only Iwaizumi would let you.

You’re in the library after rushing early from class. You found a quiet spot in the back behind all the bookshelves, affording you some privacy as you work on the last section of the project. You’re deep in thought, writing quickly, when a shadow looms over you.

You look up, annoyed, and see Iwaizumi.

You freeze, staring up at him, hand clenched around your pencil. Iwaizumi looks right back at you, ever-present frown on his face. Your eyes dart behind him as you wonder how quickly you can escape. Iwaizumi shifts into view, putting a heavy hand on the back of your chair, blocking you.

“You’re not running this time,” he says lowly.

You avert your eyes, sighing heavily and crossing your arms.

“What do you want from me exactly?” you snap.

A muscle bounces in Iwaizumi’s jaw. Without saying anything, he drags you easily by the back of the chair, pulling you away from the desk. Your breath hitches at his casual strength and you nearly flinch. Your eyes widen as he sinks to his knees, kneeling in front of you.

“I want you to be fucking honest with me,” Iwaizumi says plainly.

When you try to avert your gaze again, he grabs you firmly by the jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Hey!” you protest, trying to twist away from his grip but he easily overpowers you.

“I know what you’re doing,” Iwaizumi says, catching your gaze and holding it.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you whisper, jaw set. “Just because we fucked doesn’t mean you know me.”

“I know you try,” he shoots back and you feel like you’ve been punched in the chest. “I know you try really fucking hard.”

“I don’t…” Pressure builds behind your eyes but you blink the tears away, refusing to cry. You hate how easily he’s done this to you.

“You do,” Iwaizumi says firmly. “I saw the notes in your room and the recorder you use for class.”

You try to look away again but he holds you firm. Hot tears spill down your cheeks and onto his fingers.

“I see the way you pretend not to listen but you remember everything I tell you. I see the way you act like everything comes easily to you but you upload your work in the middle of the night because you’re working so late.”

“Stop…” you sob.

Iwaizumi doesn’t let you look away, his eyes piercing through you with that damn look, his fist squeezing your heart. His grip on your jaw softens as he cups your cheek.

“I know you care,” he says, his voice dropping. “I know you care about me.”

The fight leaves your body. You say nothing, tears spilling. Iwaizumi brushes them away with the pad of his thumb, gently pulling your face to his.

“Say red,” he whispers. “And I’ll stop.”

You don’t.

Your lips press together gently, cautiously. Iwaizumi snakes his hand to the back to your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. You lean into him, parting his lips to deepen the kiss. His other hand finds your throat, holding you loosely there, somehow comforting. Without breaking the kiss, Iwaizumi pulls you up to standing, holding you close until there’s not an inch between you. You only break away when there’s an awkward cough.

You both turn to see the librarian giving you a stern look. You grin and wink at her while Iwaizumi smothers a smile.

“We should get out of here,” he says, picking up your books.

“That’s probably for the best.” *

Iwaizumi insists on carrying your bag as you walk hand-in-hand back to your place. As soon as you cross the threshold into your bedroom, he’s on you, his hands on your waist as he presses rough kisses against your neck. You giggle and let him push you onto the bed as he crawls on top of you.

“You missed me this much?” you tease.

“How about I show you how much?” Iwaizumi smirks, his hand trailing up your inner thigh. “But first…”

You let him hook his fingers under your panties, pulling them off this time instead of tearing them. Iwaizumi sits back so he can push your dress up past your hips. But then he keeps going.

“This is coming off,” he says firmly.

There’s a stab of fear in your chest as you realise he wants to strip you bare but you let him tug your dress over your head, tossing it to the side. Iwaizumi buries his face in your neck as he snakes a hand underneath you, unsnapping your bra. You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. He pulls it off you and sits back again.

Iwaizumi’s gaze rakes over your naked form. You squirm uncomfortably, lungs constricting, and raise your arms to cover yourself. Iwaizumi catches your wrists, stopping you.

“Don’t you dare.” His voice leaves no room for negotiation.

When he’s sure you’re going to stay still, he releases your wrists and leans forward again. Iwaizumi presses a kiss to your forehead and then your cheek and then your neck. Down over your collarbone, between your breasts, and onto your stomach. You giggle as his stubble tickles the sensitive skin there and run your hands through his hair. He looks up at you with a grin.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he says.

The way he says it - like he can’t believe he gets to see you like this - makes you want to believe him. You’ve never been overly insecure about the way you look but so feel so exposed, so vulnerable.

Iwaizumi sees the look on your face because he moves down lower, grabbing your thigh so he can kiss the soft inner side.

“Don’t worry,” he breathes, his olive eyes never leaving yours. “I’ll take care of you.”

Your heart beats furiously against your ribcage but you drum up every ounce of trust you have and say a quiet, “Okay.”

Iwaizumi’s grip on your thighs is strong as he pushes your legs up, spreading your pussy for him. He wants to bury his face between your legs and lick up every drop of your arousal but he can feel the tremble in your limbs and knows you’re scared. He doesn’t want you to clam up again, to run away from him. So he keeps his eyes on your face, carefully tracking your reaction, and slowly dips his tongue between your folds.

You exhale shakily, every nerve on fire. Iwaizumi presses his tongue deeper, finding a well of your sweet slick inside you. The combination of his soft mouth and sharp stubble against your sensitive lips only makes you wetter for him. You moan lightly, your head dropping back on the pillow, your muscles relaxing ever so slightly.

Iwaizumi trails his tongue up, parting your lips until he reaches your clit. He feels it throb under his tongue and latches his lips around it softly, sucking until your hands clench the bed sheets.

“Fuck…” you gasp. “That feels good, Iwa.”

Iwaizumi flattens his tongue and brushes it in broad strokes over your sensitive bud, watching your back arch in response. He has to fight not to close his eyes, not to get lost in the taste and smell of you, his cock aching to be inside you. He presses his mouth flush to your pussy, moving between your tight little hole and your clit until he feels you practically dripping.

Your hand is in his hair, tugging at the root as you grind against his mouth, your sweet gasps and whimpers filling the room.

“Iwa…”

Your voice is high and hoarse and he knows you’re close. He nearly cums himself at the way you say his name like that. Iwaizumi returns to your clit, flicking his tongue over it the way he’s learned you like.

“Ah… ah-!”

You grip his hair as your thighs clamp tight around Iwaizumi’s head, smothering him so deliciously against your pussy. He groans against your lips as you come undone on his tongue, pleasure curving your back and curling your toes.

Iwaizumi doesn’t give you time to recover, moving up to kiss you as soon as your thighs release him. You taste yourself on his tongue which is so much hotter than you expected.

“You taste so fucking good,” Iwaizumi groans into your mouth. “Can’t believe I haven’t been able to do that until now.”

“Please feel free to do that again whenever you like.” You grin.

“Definitely later.”

Iwaizumi pulls back to tug his t-shirt over his head and you’re immediately distracted.

You shamelessly rake your gaze over his form, you mouth watering at the sight of him. You’ve always been able to feel the hardness of his muscles through his clothes but it’s nothing compared to seeing it with your own eyes. You reach up to run your hands across his stomach and up to his chest, feeling the smattering of dark hair there, before feeling the definition of his shoulders. Iwaizumi smirks and stands up, quickly ridding himself off his jeans and boxers.

You get a glimpse of the cut of muscle on his hips and his thick thighs before he’s on top of you again, his cock hard and hot against your sopping pussy.

“Pick your jaw off the floor,” Iwaizumi says, sucking small bruises against your collarbone.

“Sorry you’re super fucking hot, Iwa.” You roll your eyes. “Shoot me.”

He chuckles and repositions himself, parting your thighs with his body. The feel of his skin against yours is electrifying, everywhere he touches leaving a scorching trail. The intimacy almost makes your heart set off at a gallop again but Iwaizumi notices your breath catching.

He leans forward on his forearms, barely a gap between you, and brushes your hair from your forehead.

“Hey,” he whispers, the corner of his mouth up ticking. “Who’s my little slut?”

You break out in a smile despite yourself and press a kiss against his lips.

“I’m your little slut, Iwa,” you whisper back.

“You’re goddamn right.”

You gasp as his cock parts your lips, pushing inside you. Iwaizumi rolls his hips, bottoming out quickly before pulling back. He’s so close to you, the trimmed hair at the base of his cock rubs against your clit, stimulating both your sensitive bud and your hole at once.

“S-shit…” you murmur, eyes fluttering closed as pleasure consumes you.

“Hey.”

Iwaizumi’s sharp voice makes you eyes snap open again. He fixes you with his gaze as his hand wraps around your throat.

“Look at me while I fuck you.”

You do what he says. Iwaizumi’s green eyes bore into yours as he thrusts harder, snapping his hips against you. His cock throbs as he watches your brows scrunch up in the middle, your lips parting as lustful whimpers escape. You look so beautiful like this, taking his cock so well.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Iwaizumi groans. “Feel so fucking good. Perfect little slut.”

You draw your knees up, letting Iwaizumi go deeper, moans rising as he hits a new spot inside you. You wrap your legs around him, holding him close, your nails sinking into his biceps.

You never knew this could feel so good, to lay bare beneath someone. Beneath Iwaizumi.

“I love this,” you gasp, the words falling from your lips before you can stop them. “I love you.”

Iwaizumi’s heart nearly bursts out of his chest. He doesn’t break pace, feeling your walls start to clench down around him.

“Fuck, I love you,” he says, voice breaking. “I love you so much.”

I love you.

Somehow over the rush of blood in your ears, your eyes rolled back in your skull, pleasure seizing your body like a vice, you hear him. Iwaizumi cums with you, your walls milking him as he unleashes his load deep inside you. Your bodies are slicked with sweat, skin stuck together as you hold each other, breathless.

Iwaizumi doesn’t move right away, choosing to dip his head and kiss you first. The same gentle kiss that made you realise he’d broken past your carefully constructed barrier, that made you realise you need more. A million butterflies explode in your stomach.

Iwaizumi presses his forehead against yours, breath mingling. You know he might have a fist around your heart but you wouldn’t trust it with anyone else.

masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi! ♡

[catmiemy]

Another Chance to Live Part 4 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)

Summary: Ana and you finally start dating.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

A/N: Look at me sticking to my upload schedule. Although I might be able to publish the final two parts earlier since I had more time to write because I had to cancel some plans thanks to conjunctivitis.

I hope you enjoy these two finally getting together. As always, happy to hear what you think :)

After your conversation with Jenni you continued to sit on the couch, staring at your phone as if the device would be any help in figuring out how to ask Ana out.

As it turned out, it actually did. While you were still contemplating, weighing the pros and cons of every option, your phone buzzed with an incoming message. Your heart skipped a bit when you saw it was from Ana, just like it always did. And your heart definitely skipped more than one beat once you read the message.

You read the words over and over again, finding it impossible to believe this was actually happening. For so long you had told yourself there would never be anything more than friendship between you and Ana, and now all of the sudden your whole world had been turned upside down in the best way possible.

A little birdie just told me about the conversation you had.

Hope you don’t mind she told me.

Jenni said you didn’t tell her not to tell me, so she thought it was fair game.

Anyway, what do you say about changing our hangout tomorrow to an official date?

You know as a date, as more than friends.

Ana’s reply was almost instant.

Of course I don’t mind, it makes my life a lot easier!

I really owe that birdie, but don’t tell her that.

And yes, I’d love to do that!

You quickly texted back that you were excited about it as well, before putting away your phone grinning like a fool.  You felt like you were floating on a cloud of happiness, something that you hadn’t experience in a long, long time, maybe never to this degree.  

Great, I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow.

Already looking forward to it.

---

The next day you got more and more nervous the closer the time for Ana to pick you up came. However, whenever the anxiety threatened to become overwhelming, you just thought about the Swiss woman; how happy you always were in her presence and how at ease she made you feel, as if you were perfect just the way you were. Every time you did that you immediately felt much calmer; less anxious nervous and much more joyful excited. 

 Still, it took you forever to pick out an outfit, mentally thanking Ana that she had texted you earlier in the day to at least let you know what style of clothes you should be wearing, elegant but not overly fancy. In the end you settled on a black dress because you could never go wrong with that, and it did show off your body in the best way possible.

Even with all the internal debating about your outfit you ended up being ready almost 30 minutes before the pickup time, because you had started so early. Therefore you settled down on the couch, trying and failing to distract yourself with your phone.

Only a few minutes passed before there was a knock on the door. With a frown you went to open it, hoping it wasn’t your parents with some sort of request to help them out. You definitely didn’t have time to do that right now.

However, when you opened the door and laid eyes on Ana your frowned turned into a big smile. You were always happy to see her, but tonight even more so. Finally you got to be with her in the way you wanted, no more pretending to be just friends.

“Hi,” you greeted her, too distracted by the blonde’s mere presence to wonder why she was here so early.

“Hi,” Ana echoed, stepping forward to hug you. You melted into the embrace and turned your face inwards against her neck, relishing in the fact that you didn’t have to suppress gestures like this any longer.

“Ready to go?” The Swiss woman asked you after a bit.

You nodded, grabbing the bag you had conveniently placed next to the door. When you turned back towards Ana, she reached out offering you her hand. You instantly laced your fingers through hers, the small contact filling you with warmth and an overwhelming sense of belonging right there in this moment.

When you were getting into the car you heard the church bells ring and suddenly realized how early the Swiss woman had been. It wasn’t like she was known for being unpunctual, but also she wasn’t usually this early.

“How come you were here this early? Did I have the time wrong?”

That seemed like the most logical explanation, even though you had checked the time in Ana’s text about at dozen times.

“Well, I knew you’d be ready early and I didn’t want to make you wait unnecessarily and maybe get anxious.”

Your heart melted at this. It was so thoughtful of Ana and it showed how well she already knew you. This fact put you even more at ease. There was no need to pretend or try to show yourself in the most favorable light, this woman already knew you and somehow she still liked you.

“Plus I was excited to go out with my friend,” the blonde continued.

For a second your stomach dropped at the last word, but when you looked over and saw the humor in Ana’s eyes you recognized that she was just teasing you.

“I guess I deserve that,” you conceded, “And for the record I never wanted you to be just my friend.”

You were a little surprised by your own boldness. However, Ana made you feel like it was not only okay to say what you were thinking, but that it was in fact exactly what the Swiss woman wanted.

“That’s good to know,” Ana stated, sounding much more serious all of the sudden as if she still hadn’t been totally sure about your feelings.

Suddenly you felt a little silly for not taking into account that other people got insecure as well. You had been so focused on yourself, that you had never considered how it must have been for the Swiss woman to constantly hear you emphasize that you were merely friends.

“I’m sorry about that, I just didn’t think there was any possibility you’d ever like me too,” you apologized.

Ana looked over at you sadly. “I know, but we’ll work on that,” she promised.

“On what?”

“On the way you see yourself! Don’t think I missed how you didn’t believe me when I told you that everyone I know on the Spanish national team likes you and is always looking forward to seeing you,” the blonde elaborated.

You didn’t quite know how to react to such blatant flattery. Most likely this was just Ana being sweet, but you couldn’t lie, it was still nice to hear.

“See, you’re doing it again. You don’t believe me,“  the blonde accused you softly.  

You whipped your head around to look at Ana, shocked that she could read you so easily. Up until now you had always prided yourself on having a good poker face, but apparently the Swiss woman saw right through it.

She didn’t say anything else though, merely smiling at you gently. The silence gave you the time you needed to gather your thoughts. Once again you found yourself being surprisingly honest.

“It’s just because I’m nothing special, I’m just me. I’m too quiet and not very interesting. It’s not like I think everyone hates more or anything. But why would anyone particularly like me?”

In your opinion you had made a good point, but Ana’s eyes were filled with disapproval and sadness on your behalf.

“Because you’re a great person! You always have an open ear for everyone. If there’s anything you can do to help someone, you do it without hesitation. You have such a good heart and you’re so mindful of everyone around you, doing your best to make everyone feel seen and heard.”

“Sure you don’t talk everyone’s ears off as soon as you meet them, but once you’re more comfortable? You tell great stories that always make me feel as if I’m right there with you and I love hearing what you think about things because I can tell that you took your time to form opinions. And to see you speak passionately about the things you care, that’s just something else!”

“Also, I love how much you appreciate the beauty around you. Going somewhere with you is such a treat because you will always point out the pretty flowers, the interesting cloud constellation or the cute dog you see with so much joy and reverence.”

“And let’s not forget that you’re gorgeous. You have the most beautiful and kindest eyes I have ever seen and don’t even get me started about your smile!”

You were overwhelmed by how easily, without even thinking about it first, the Swiss woman managed to list all of these nice qualities. It made you more inclined to believe her. At the very least Ana had you convinced that she meant every word she had said, and that in itself was a good feeling, even if you weren’t convinced all of this was actually, objectively true.

“I could keep talking all night long about all the reasons why I like you so much, but I guess you wouldn’t really appreciate that. So instead I’ll keep bringing it up for as long as you’ll let me be a part of your life, which I’m hoping will be a very long time,” Ana concluded.

“That’s probably a good idea, otherwise you’ll spend the rest of the evening with a tomato head,” you joked.

You had always hated how easily you turned red, your frustration usually only making it worse.

“I wouldn’t complain about that for a second, I find your blushing adorable,” Ana commented, which of course only made you blush even more, but for once you didn’t mind as much.

You arrived at your destination soon after, and you immediately recognized the place from pictures you had seen of Lola and her girlfriend. So the mystery of how the blonde had chosen where to take you was solved. You had never actually been to the restaurant yourself since it was very romantic and mostly frequented by couples, but you had heard good things about it.

By the end of the evening you could definitely confirm that all the praise you had been told about the restaurant was justified. Although in all honesty every place would have felt like heaven to you when it was the location of your first date with Ana.

The conversation stayed mostly light and happy for the first half and hour, both of you enjoying each other’s company and this new and exciting situation. In a lot of ways it wasn’t all that different, you talked as easily as before, the conversation flowing effortlessly. So once again you realized that you had gotten into your heard for nothing. Things weren’t awkward or weird at all, like you had been concerned about.

Sure, there were some differences, all of them positive though; the way you kept slipping from normal conversation into light flirting, how you just gazed deep into each other eyes a few of times, and the way Ana placed her hand onto yours and left it there as long as she possibly could, sighing when she had to retract it because you both needed your hands to eat.

“So do you want to talk about the national team?” You asked, once the last of your nervousness had settled.

Ana shrugged her shoulders unsurely, smile dropping from her face. You had to fight the urge to take it back and apologize for probing; reminding yourself about the conversation you had had after the game against Barcelona. It was okay to ask, and if the Swiss woman actually didn’t want to talk about it, she would tell you. Still, this went entirely against your instinct.

“It’s just such a frustrating situation. Inka is a horrible coach! At least for us, maybe it’s just not a good fit, I don’t know, but for us it doesn’t work. We’re playing badly and the atmosphere at camp isn’t how it used to be. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nothing like what I heard about Spain, but everyone was kind of in a state of constant annoyance and was so happy when we could leave.”

“And the worst thing is that the home Euros is coming closer everyday and I wanted that to be the crowning moment of my career. Maybe that’s selfish, I don’t know, but now? Now I think it’s going to be nightmare, if I even get to go at all,” Ana finished her rant that had began passionate and angry, but fizzled out into something more like helplessness. 

Exactly like after the game against Barcelona the Swiss woman looked drained, her shoulders slumped and her smile no longer reaching her eyes. It made you simultaneously want to give her the longest hug in the world and go and punch Inka in the face.

However, since you were still sitting in the restaurant you settled on reaching over and giving her hand a good squeeze, before doing your best to come up with a good response.

“I’m so sorry things are like that and I’m always here to listen if you need to rant about it or hold you if you need to cry. Trying to keep in your emotions isn’t healthy.”

That was probably one of the most hypocritical things you had ever said, you who always held your emotions in until you felt like imploding. However, theoretically you knew that wasn’t a helpful thing to do, so you weren’t going to advise someone else to do that.

“And I can help you figure out if there’s anything you and the girls can do. I did a lot of reading and looking things up when everything was going down with Spain. Of course it’s a totally different system, but I’m still happy to help out,” you offered.

A soft smile, a real smile, one that made Ana’s eyes shine, returned to the blonde’s face.

“I appreciate how much you care. That means more than I can ever express with words. To be honest we’ve already started looking into what our options are and have been talking with the Swiss federation. So maybe it’s not quite as hopeless as it feels right now. The next few weeks should give us an answer to that,” Ana told you.

You felt some relief at that. Surely there was no way the Swiss federation would be as difficult and idiotic as the Spanish one. Right? Therefore things would hopefully be sorted out before too long and Ana would get the home Euros she deserved.

“That’s good. I’m confident things will turn out okay,” you said with more confidence than you actually felt. But Ana didn’t need to know that. If you were wrong in the end you would deal with it then, right now the best thing you could do was strengthen her hope.

“Yeah?” The Swiss woman double-checked, confirming to you that this was actually the right thing to do.

“Definitely,” you assured her, praying to a god you didn’t believe in that you wouldn’t be proven wrong.

“I think so too,” Ana admitted quietly, as if she was scared to say it too loudly out of fear of jinxing it.

“Now let’s talk about other things. I don’t want Inka to ruin the mood on my date as well, she has done enough of that during camp. How about we focus on your national camp instead? I heard you almost made Jenni rip out her own hair with your cluelessness,” the Swiss woman teased with a big grin.

Your first instinct was to tell Ana that it was totally fine to keep talking about the situation with her national team, that it wouldn’t ruin anything. But then she mentioned Jenni and all the teasing you had endured, and all of the sudden you wanted to beg her to continue talking about the Swiss team. Anything to avoid speaking about how oblivious you had been.

“Come on, let’s be honest Jenni would never rip out her precious hair or do anything else to ruin her looks,” you deflected, basking in the sound of Ana’s laughter. You would never get tired of making the blonde laugh.

You kept up the banter for a bit, before you remembered a specific thing you had been fretting about for the last 24 hours. It probably wasn’t something you should bring up on the first date, or maybe it was exactly the kind of thing you had to mention on the first date. You still hadn’t made up your mind about that.

All you knew was that in that moment, feeling happy and secure in Ana’s presence, you wanted to talk about it. And maybe it was time to do what you wanted more often and worry less about whether it was the ‘normal’ thing to do. What was normal anyway?

“There’s something I need to tell you”, you blurted out, kicking yourself for making it sound so ominous. No one ever said ‘I need to tell you something’ about unimportant stuff.

“Of course, I’m all ears,” Ana replied, smiling at you encouragingly.

“Okay, so…” You swallowed, trying to gather yourself. „I’ve never been in a serious relationship before. I mean I’ve dated and had flings and such, but never a serious long term relationship. And I don’t know it that’s a problem for you. I would totally understand if it was. And maybe I shouldn’t even have brought it up tonight, so I’m sorry if I’m making this awkward. Although if it is a problem then it was probably good I told you today. I…”

“Schatz,” Ana interrupted you. You didn’t really know any German, let alone Swiss German, but you were fairly certain you remembered this one. The use of a sweet pet name relaxed you significantly; she wouldn’t do that if this was in fact a deal breaker.

“I don’t care about that in the slightest. I’ve never been in a relationship with you either, so that will be brand new for me too. We’ll figure it out together,” the Swiss woman promised.

“Together,” you echoed. You loved the sound of that.

---

As time passed and more dates followed it became clear that Ana had been right. Things between the two of you just progressed naturally and not once did you feel out of your depth because of your lack of experience with relationships.

You shared a magical first kiss on a walk through the city after your second date. Ana’s lips felt pleasantly warm on yours in the chilly night air. After that all dams were broken and you spent a lot of time kissing like two hormonal teenagers, slowly or more precisely pretty rapidly moving on to other activities.

After the first time you slept together, the two of you lay in Ana’s bed facing each other. The Swiss woman gently traced her thumb over your forehead and your cheek, looking at you lovingly. Although you did your best to avoid using this word for anything to do with Ana just yet. It was too early to even think about love.

“Are you okay? Was this okay?” The blonde whispered, her eyes serious and for some reason slightly worried.

You stared at her in surprise. Could she not see how happy and satisfied you were, how cherished and lo- adored you felt?

“This was perfect and I feel amazing. You know I had sex before, right?”

Suddenly you weren’t sure if you had been clear about that. Maybe you had given Ana the impression that you weren’t just a relationship virgin, but an all around virgin.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but still this is a big step and I just wanted to check in. It’s different when feelings are involved,” Ana elaborated.

For a moment you just grinned at her like an idiot. If you thought you had been feeling lo-, adored before, it was nothing to how you felt now.

“You’re just the absolute sweetest, tesoro. And you’re totally right, it is different. So much better! I can’t wait to go again, but right now I need some sleep. Someone wore me out.“

You looked at her pointedly, but that quickly changed into a smile when you saw how proud of herself Ana looked.

“In that case, sleep, mi Schatz. Because I definitely need you to be ready for another round soon,” Ana said, pulling you against her and kissing your forehead.

It took you all of five seconds before you fell into a peaceful slumber, your face buried in Ana’s neck.

---

However, you were right too, about everything sorting itself out with the Swiss national team. You were eating lunch at Real’s training ground when you heard, willing the time to move faster because tonight you would finally see Ana again. The two of you hadn’t been able to meet up the last few days because of insanely busy and conflicting schedules.

So when your phone buzzed with a message from Ana your heart fluttered happily. Hearing from her was always the highlight of your day. Things at Real were still less than ideal. You didn’t feel connected to the team, most of them still seeing you as ‘that Altético player’.

You were well aware that you were to blame for that as much as anyone, maybe even more so. Your efforts to integrate into the team had been minimal to say the least. And you felt a fair bit of anger at yourself for being so unprofessional, but somehow that still wasn’t enough to change anything. You just didn’t want to be there. It was as simple as that. And you could pretend, but you couldn’t change your actual feeling.

Day after day you forced yourself to be perfectly punctual, train hard, listen to the game plans and analyses, but there was no joy to any of it. Not even when you played games, something that you had always loved before. You were simply going through the motions.

At least you were having a pretty good season; otherwise your disappointment with yourself would have been through the roof.

When you checked your phone you saw that it was a screenshot announcing Inka’s departure from the Swiss national team. A happy squeal escaped you, everyone turning to look at you. It wasn’t like you to be loud, especially not in a cheerful way.

“What is it?” Misa asked curiously.

You simply showed her your phone, a smile appearing on the goalkeeper’s face.

“This is great news,” she agreed.

“Amazing news,” you corrected.

Now you were even more excited to see Ana later that night and celebrate this special occasion.

You were happy that you had decided to meet up at your place; this gave you the opportunity to prepare something special. However, you didn’t have much time, so you found yourself standing in the store after training looking around frantically and blanking on what to do.

The first idea that came to mind was to get a cake with a message like ‘She’s gone!’ on it. But you seriously doubted that you would get one on such short notice. Also a whole cake for just the two of you didn’t sound like a good plan.

So maybe just a card? What kind of card though? You had some strong suspicions that there wasn’t anything like an ‘I’m so happy you got rid of your stupid national coach’-card. 

You could practically feel the seconds ticking by, getting more and more anxious by the minute. Time was running out and you still didn’t have the slightest idea what to do.

Noticing how tense you had become you forced yourself to exhale slowly and relax your body, starting with your jaw and slowly progressing downwards. There was no reason to get so stressed about this. Ana wouldn’t expect any grand gestures; you wouldn’t disappoint here no matter what you did or didn’t do.

As you calmed down the fog in your brain lifted and you regained the ability to make decisions. After having a swift look around you settled on buying the ingredients for Ana’s favorite meal, as well as two caramel cupcakes. As a last minute decision you added two candles to put on the cupcakes, one an I and one a G. This way you could literally get the satisfaction of seeing Inka Gring’s legacy go up in smoke.

Later that evening Ana arrived at your apartment with a bright smile on her face and some extra pep in her steps. She immediately pulled you into a tight hug, rocking the both of you excitedly from side to side.

“I’m so happy for you,” you told her, leaning back slightly to beam at her, before getting closer again and peppering her face with light kisses. 

This made Ana giggle. “And you know what makes me happy?” She gasped.

You stopped your kisses and tilted your head, unsure of where the Swiss woman was going this. It didn’t seem like the kind of question she would ask if the answer was the obvious one; Inka leaving.  

“That you are so happy for me. It means the world  to me that you care so deeply, about both the good and the bad things happening in my life,” Ana clarified.

A blush cropped up on your face and you moved to hide your face in Ana’s neck, but the Swiss woman gently stopped you

“Don’t. You know I love your blush,” she murmured, placing her hands on your slightly pink cheeks and taking in every inch of your face. “So beautiful.”

Of course that only made you blush more. Ana winked at you, but didn’t stop you when you once again stepped forward to bury your face in her shoulder.

The two of you spent a nice evening together; spirits were high all around thanks to the good news. Ana showered you in compliments for your cooking and when you brought out the cupcakes she burst into laughter.

“I love this! Like a cleansing from Inka,” she said in between laughing.

“Shhh, this is a serious matter,” you chastised her playfully.

“Oh sorry,” the blonde replied, forcing a solemn expression onto her face.

However, it only lasted for all of five seconds before the huge smile that had been on her face all night long returned. You wouldn’t be complaining about that though. A happy Ana made you happy.

“To the end of the unfortunate Inka-area and to a better future for your national team,” you announced, lighting the two candles on fire. “Make a wish!”

Ana leaned forward and blew out the candles with closed eyes. Then she turned to you. “Do you want to know what I wished for?”

You shook your head firmly. “No! Otherwise it won’t come true.”

Ana smirked. “Too bad because it involves you.”

“Wait really? Then I change my mind and want to know,” you backtracked, mentally running through everything she could have wished for.

“Nope, too late,” the Swiss woman informed you.

“Meeeeeaaaaan,” you complained.

Ana just grinned at you, shrugged her shoulders and took a big bite of her cupcake.

When you continued to pout at her, she offered you a compromise, “Fine, I’ll tell you when it comes true, okay? And now enough with the puppy dog eyes. Otherwise I might crack and tell you right now and then we’ll both be at fault when it doesn’t come true.”

“Sounds good to me,” you agreed, biting into your own cupcake with gusto.

And honestly just knowing that Ana had made a wish that included you warmed you heart. It was nice to be such a big part of someone else’s life, someone other than your parents that was. But you wouldn’t think about them right now, nothing was allowed to taint this moment.

Instead of dwelling on your thoughts you looked up at Ana happily chewing the last bite of her cupcake.

“I love you,” you blurted out without thinking about it.

Once the words had left your mouth you instantly regretted them. Not that they weren’t true, they absolutely were, but you hadn’t said them to each other yet. So what if Ana didn’t feel the same and you just ruined this perfect moment? Or even worse, everything!

At least Ana was still smiling at you, that was probably a good sign. If she was going to leave right then and there she wouldn’t smile. Right?

“I love you too,” the Swiss woman simply said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  

“Really?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Ana got up and came over to your side of the table. She grabbed your hands, softly pulling you up so you were on eye level.

“Of course I love you. How could I not? I guess we still have some work to do until you see yourself the way I see you, as such an amazing, good-hearted, beautiful person,” she told you earnestly.

“I really love you.” It was the only thing that came to mind, Ana’s compliments once again overwhelming you.

“That’s good because I really love you too,” the blonde replied with a chuckle, gathering you into her arms. “And I won’t rest until you love yourself too , exactly the way that you deserve.”

You just snuggled even closer into Ana, a deep calmness filling you up from head to toe. It wasn’t something you were used to, usually there was always some anxiety running in the background. However, the blonde brought you so much peace.

It was something you had never expected before you experienced it yourself. You had always thought love would be all excited butterflies and exuberance. There was some of that of course, but also this all-encompassing calmness, that was in many ways even better than all of the excitement.

[khuzena]

This bitter life.

pairing: Blade x g/n!reader

Part 1, Part 2.

Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.

In other words, you die and he’s miserable.

Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, really slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.

A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.

(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)

For all of Blade’s life, life has always been and will always be truly and utterly miserable.

If he were asked to recount the many times he wished he just died, he would lose count. From a promising life with the high-cloud quintet, from being the renowned crafter of weapons, to being just Blade. His pain does not give him the liberty to dream of a future, he does not have the privilege to close his eyes and dream of his youth when he is only constantly plagued with the thousands of screams who scream his name.

For a man who does not have the right to love, the right to dream and wish for death, just this once, the Aeons were kind enough to give him you.

He met you in unforeseen circumstances, he was gravely injured after another fight with some soldiers on some planet. Blade knows that he won’t die now, but he feels like dying. His stomach slashed by a poison so advanced it eats him from inside out, but oh how kind of the gods to bless him you.

”Hey, stay awake!” It was the first time in his life he’s heard a desperate cry, not out of fear for your life, but for his.

You did not know him, neither did he know you but it was like second nature to protect him.

The destroyer of worlds, the monster from the Stellaron hunters, the exiled one, you only saw a dying man.

He felt a damp cloth pressing on his stomach, “Please hang on.” Just who were you to tell him what to do? You just had to be there at that exact moment. Through blurry eyes, he could not make out what your face looked like, not like he could ever remember.

Blade could remember your voice, it was loud yet soothing, then he felt bandages wrap around his torso as someone carried him. He lost consciousness that night.

His eyes flutter open, was he really that weak to fall under the influence of that poison?

“You’re awake.”

He groans and sits up, his spine hurts like hell. “Who the hell are you?”

”Hey buddy, no need for hostility, I’m the one who saved your life.” His eyes follow you when you roll your eyes at him, ignoring his shit and jotting down whatever on your clipboard.

He stays silent when you come closer to him, your face getting a little too close than his liking, “Can you say ahh?”

Blade hesitates but he obliges, for the first time in his life, to a stranger, something in him tells him to trust you. “Ahh…”

You turn on your penlight and point it at his throat before sliding it back into your pockets, “Good, good” Blade doesn’t know what you’re doing when you stare in his eyes for 2 minutes, must be you inspecting something.

”You’re all fine, I’m surprised that you heal fast. Anyone who takes in such poison and exceeds 4 doses would die in an instant.” He thinks you’re weird.

…

In just 3 days, Blade was out of the hospital, Kafka tracked down where he was and was relieved when she found out Blade was alright.

“You’re really reckless, Bladie.”

Blade only scoffs hearing her words, it may be the truth but who cares? Certainly not him.

Just as the two were leaving the hospital for good, you followed him.

”You…” He saw you panting and gripping your knees from the exhaustion of chasing him down, he left without even informing the nurses.

He doesn’t know why you followed him, “Can I atleast have your name?”

Kafka blinks in surprise before turning away, as if she wasn’t witnessing whatever bullshit was going down.

”Excuse me?”

”Your name.”

”Why do I have to tell you?”

”I saved your life for fucks sake!”

Blade rolls his eyes, narrowing his eyes at you but he just gives up, “Fine, Blade.”

”What?”

”Do I have to repeat myself?”

He’s really mean, but he doesn’t scare you, which surprises him. You don't flinch at his words, but whatever. He thinks that he won’t have to see you again. (You almost crack up a laugh, who the fuck name's their child Blade?)

You don’t push him any further and let him leave, you want to learn more about him.

So for the following days, you ask people if they knew who that ‘Blade’ was, where did he work at, what he truly was because which idiot would end up wounded in a ditch at a place that’s practically considered a warzone in your planet. Not only that, but you were also intrigued and curious about his ability to heal fast and resist the poison.

You don’t find any information regarding that strange man, but one thing’s for sure, he’s dangerous.

Like clockwork, Blade comes again to the planet “Clove-V” to exterminate some pests because some idiot decided to mess with the Stellearon hunters. Gut a soldier, gain information, leave– is what he’s supposed to do.

Blade stares at the bloodied sword of his, “This goddamn poison again.”

He feels weak, clutching his stomach and he needs to leave before anyone catches up on him again. So he leaves the building only to drop unconscious.

Again, he is back to that familiar hospital room where he was just a few weeks ago.

”You’re back.” You scrunch your nose again, the squeaky writing on the clipboard hurting his ears.

He’s too tired to say something snarky, but he sighs in annoyance.

”You look worse than last time,” his gaze never leaves you when you come closer to inspect his throat and eyes like last time, “How do you keep getting in situations like these?”

He stays quiet, but you keep persisting with him to give you an answer.

Was he an assassin? A murderer?! One of the IPC slaves– no, no, he looks different from them, a little too proper (but bloodied), maybe from the Xianzhou luofu? So when you heal his wounds, you can’t help but ask, “Are you a murderer?”

Must you really force an answer out of him?

”Do I not look like one?” Were you such a fool to ask such an obvious answer?

You sat back down on the comfort of the cushion chair, “I didn’t want to assume”

”Now you know.”

“Yeah.”

He’s curious, when you find out that he’s a murderer, you’re not afraid, you do not run away or distance yourself, “Why do you kill people?”

He stays silent again, you don’t know the specifics, but you know the answer.

“I’ll get going now,” clearing your throat, “Just use the call button if you need help, one of the nurses will attend to you.”

And again, for 2 days, he is out of the hospital.

“You really keep ending up in that hospital, don’t you?” Kafka laughs, throwing away the Blade’s admission.

As they left, he could see you staring at him from your office. It was embarrassing enough that he caught you watching him leave so intently, Blade saw the curtains immediately close.

Again and again, he keeps getting wound up in that same hospital, might as well be stuck there forever.

”I’m no longer surprised you’re here again Blade.” It’s weird, when his name slips out from your lips, it sounds less scary (people often associate his name with fear and murder, but you call him like he’s any other man)

8 visits to your clinic, you might as well be his personal doctor.

“I know you’re a murderer but do you constantly have to be injured every month? I’m starting to think you’re getting injured just to see me.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” He scoffs.

”I was merely jesting.”

He cocks his head to the side, he sees you more often than he meets with Sam. You turn on your penlight again, unlike his first visit, he obliges without putting up a fight.

“Nothing unusual, you’re good to go.” You speak in between coughs, which surprises Blade. Lately, you were sicker than usual, pale and run-down.

”Are you okay?”

”Excuse me?”

”Nevermind.”

He should mind his own business, this is strictly a patient and doctor relationship. But he can’t help but wonder, if you looked that sick, shouldn’t you be on leave? You leave his hospital room without a word, he’s still curious.

He left, but this time, he didn’t see you looking out from your office window to watch where he was going.

Months pass by, by now he would’ve forgotten about you. But in the back of his head, he’s still wondering how are you? It isn’t for him to inquire about your personal life. He is still tempted to know more about you, so, he ends up wounded on that planet again (much to silverwolf’s dismay, he was supposed to be on a different mission)

He wakes up again in that hospital room, your coughs were loud enough to wake him up, “You keep coming back, I should just give you medicine so you don’t have to always end up here”

In truth, he just wanted to see you. It was unlike him to think about someone this much but he can’t help but be curious (worried, but he would never admit that.)

He felt the back of your palm press on his forehead, good thing he didn’t have a fever, “Your temperature’s okay.” He is worried, you speak in between coughs he could barely register your words. For a moment when you touched his skin, he felt his mara quelled, even for just a mere second.

“I want to ask, who are you really?” He’s taken by surprise by your question, something he expected but not one he expected now.

”I’m a stellaron hunter.” Oh.

A stellaron hunter, huh? “Why did you become one?”

He asks himself, why did he become one? Other than for when that day comes, he will be free, he will die. He can’t form a full answer, “I don’t know.” It’s better to give an answer, to lie, rather than be someone who cannot answer such a simple question.

“I see.” But you see through him, but you’re not close enough to him to question him about who he truly is. So you’ll know him through medicine, you’ll heal him to get to know who he is if he cannot give you a clear answer.

You gave him your name, because after 9 visits, he should know your name already. “What?”

”My name.”

He nods along, he’ll make sure to not forget it. You were sure he’s okay now, his vitals are back to normal, but before you leave, he calls out your name.

“You…” There was a look of confusion on your face, “Nevermind” He wanted to ask about your health, why were you still working? By seeing your current health, you’re close to death at this point. But he keeps his concerns to himself; after all, what does he know of you other than a doctor?

But even months pass by, he still wants to understand you. You do not look at him with contempt unlike his victims, and even if he had visited 12 times now, you did not seem annoyed; maybe even thrilled with the company.

He does not care for hobbies or games, he’s not like silverwolf whose life revolves around games and other things, he’s not like kafka who takes pleasure in playing with her food (her victims), he’s definitely not gentle and kind like Firefly.

So Blade does not understand why you’re fond of things like these, a monopoly board? Really? It’s stupid, very. But it’s the only way you two can understand each other, even if it means wasting time like this.

You rolled a 6 and landed on a community chest, “God damn it.”

He squints his eye when you got a card that said ‘Go to jail’, what the fuck was this game even about? “I don’t get this game”

He really doesn’t, but he rolls another and lands on some unclaimed property and buys it, “No shit, but you’re a lucky bastard.”

“I don’t get why we’re playing this stupid game, even checkers seem more appealing.” Finally getting out of jail, you rolled a 5 and landed on his property, going bankrupt. “You know what? Fuck this game.”

He doesn’t even understand how he won, he’d much prefer if you two read in silence or something. “That was a stupid game”

“You’re stupid.”

”Excuse me?”

Then you two go at it and fight again, but it was fun. The most fun he’s had in years (as if he ever knew what fun truly is)

But life is not kind, time is limited and you cannot trade gems or blood for 5 more minutes. He’s known that rule all his life, to never get attached ever again because he’ll be miserable, he’ll lose himself the way he lost who he truly was when he was still Yingxing. Yet, humans will always be humans; mortals, immortals, they are the same. And he is no exception.

After his 23rd visit for the past 2 years– going 3, he remembers small details about you. You studied at this university for a few extra years because you kept getting a failing grade, you like roping him up in stupid games (you tried to make him play twister once, it was you who got a twisted ankle), you like reading and everything else.

For all his cursed, miserable life, he slowly found reason, a part of him feels human again.

“You don’t look good.”

A stifled cough escaped you, “You think?”

You were on sick leave, he found out where you lived after asking forcing one of the nurses where you lived. Blade found you on the couch, sprawled with only a thin blanket covering you. He doesn’t care for anyone, just this once, though, just this once.

”Have you eaten yet?” It makes you laugh at how caring he is, the most unexpected side of him, after all.

You shook your head, “No.”

A cough seized you so suddenly, Blade’s worries did not go away. He doesn’t know how to cook, much less how to take care of a person.

”You have a fever,” he hands you a glass of water, but it was not enough to ease your pain.

You wish to close your eyes, but even the small contracting of your muscles ache, when you drink, it hurts, when you move, it hurts. It hurts to live at this point but you endure, “Why did you come?”

“I had to.”

”Why exactly?”

”Just shut up and let me take care of you.”

You could only faintly chuckle at his words when he gets a warm cloth to put it on your forehead, “What else do I do?”

Nighttime came but he has not left yet, he can’t leave just yet, “Tell me.”

There was no use, whatever he did would not help you get through with this illness of yours. “Just tell me.” You did not have the energy to argue or talk, but he did not get the hint so he continued to pester you for an answer.

”Can you please stop talking? I need to sleep.”

”Fine.”

Tomorrow came, only Blade was right beside you, staring intently at you; a part of him afraid you won’t wake up again.

”You’re awake.” Blade always had that nonchalant expression, but his eyes were heavy with worry. Were you dreaming or was he really right beside you and worried for your well being? A part of you wished you still were, having company is the best when you’re ill.

You coughed softly, “Yes.”

Why didn’t he leave? Was he worried? You must be insane to think that way, he is just your old patient who just so happened to always end up in the hospital under your care.

The man in front of you sat beside you and stared at you for a while, not knowing what to do, “What do I do next?”

Ah. He rarely shows emotion on his face but his pupils dilate for a split second, you can’t die but you were so close to dying, he’s no doctor, he has no expertise in taking care of anyone but for just this moment he wished he did.

“Just keep me company.” He nods.

Note: cries cries cries bc the full fic is so long i have to make it into 2 parts :((( im abt to post part 2 pls pls wait 😔😔😔

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 2

Chapter two - Blueberry & Kidney Bean

Chapter 1

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.6k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. I tagged everyone who asked me to do it when I posted part 1. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

The store smells like dust and cardboard and old carpet. It's not necessarily a bad smell, it just doesn't live up to her memories.

She remembers the perpetual scent of menthol cigarettes and some kind of cheap men's perfume wafting through the air. The store used to smell like her dad and now it doesn't. And that just makes it all even more real.

Boxes upon boxes litter the room, filled with records. Some older, some newer. Guitars adorn one wall while the others are covered in posters from tours that happened long ago, some even before she was born.

There is something comforting about being here. It’s like stepping back into the past. Long nights watching Dad and his friends play their guitars after store-closing. Discovering new bands whenever a new shipment of records came in. And yes - she is the first to admit that in her younger years, she mostly chose the records by how cool the cover looked. 

It’s also memories of Dad getting caught up in the after-hours jam sessions and forgetting about her dance recital and that one time he threw a guitar at the window out of anger that a shipment of records got lost. It took him months to get the window replaced. She could probably still trace exactly where the crack used to be. 

Being here is very reminiscent in all the good and bad ways. But it’s a warped version of the past. One that’s laced with all the knowledge she has now. Like a movie that you’ve seen a million times.

“I don’t think pregnant women are supposed to be doing that!” 

Jamie’s voice cuts through the nostalgia-induced fog like a sunbeam through the clouds. And it also gives her a little heart attack as the only sound filling the room up until now had been her moving around and the soft tunes of an Eric Clapton record playing in the background.

“Jesus fuck! You scared me. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to startle pregnant women either and give them heart attacks.” 

He looks at her with those big expressive eyes of his and a comically overdone pout on his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But seriously give me that.” 

He’s so quick to take the box of records from her hands (Y/N) hardly has time to process what’s going on. 

Quite honestly, his worry is a bit misplaced here but she appreciates the sentiment even if he might be a little overly cautious at that moment. It feels nice to be cared for. 

“You know I’m pregnant, not sick, right? I can carry stuff.” 

“Yeah but why would you if you got me carrying it for you?” 

He has a point, she has to give him that. 

“Fair enough. Those go over there in the corner please.” 

Jamie follows her order without hesitation and, after setting the box down in its designated place, his eyes dart across the room and light up with childlike wonder and curiosity.

“This used to be your dad’s place, yeah? It looks really neat with all them posters and shit. Like stepping into an old person’s mind but like a cool old person that buys you alcohol when you’re 15 and lets you watch horror movies when your mum said no.” 

Of all the adjectives in the world, (Y/N) wouldn’t ever think of using the word “cool” to describe her dad. He was creative and fun and eccentric and stubborn — but cool? 

Then again he was her dad and no one ever likes to think of their own parents as cool. Oh god, will their kid think she’s uncool?! 

“Uh yeah, the shop and the apartment right above us. He owned it, now I do. I’m trying to get it all fixed up and ready to be sold.”

“What? Why?” 

There is something to be said about Jamie’s face and his absolute inability to mask his emotions. Everything he thinks and feels is mirrored twice as vividly on his face. He’s all furrowed brows and pouty lips. 

“I mean — it’s a record store. People don’t really buy records anymore. Be honest, when was the last time you bought one instead of just streaming the music?” 

“Like two weeks ago.” 

“Fuck off, no you didn’t!” 

“Uh — yeah, I did. Olivia Rodrigo if you must know.” 

A soft giggle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. How fitting for Jamie to buy an album full of teenage angst. 

“Well, you’re one of very few people though. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to sell. I’d keep it open. Instead of selling instruments, it’d turn that part of the shop into a little stage with a coffee counter or a bar. Host open mic nights and shine a spotlight on undiscovered artists. But the world isn’t perfect and there is no way I can afford to turn that vision into reality so really there’s no use in letting myself get too caught up in it.” 

There is pity in his eyes and she hates it. She doesn’t want pity, not his or anyone else’s. Has seen enough of it, especially lately. If she had received just one more “Sorry for your loss” card in the mail from relatives she hadn’t seen in decades, she probably would’ve stabbed a fork in her own eye. Pity does no good to no one. 

“Anyway, Jamie. Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, it’s kind of necessary if we want to get this whole beings-friends-thing right, but uh — what are you doing here?” 

“Jesus, can’t a guy just come around to say hi to his baby? “ 

She thinks the way he says the word “Baby” in his thick accent is surprisingly and undeniably adorable. As if it ends in an “eh” instead of a “y”.

“By the way, they’re as big as a blueberry now.” 

And the way he’s keeping track of the baby's growth gets her right in the heart. For some reason, this seems to come so naturally to him when it all still feels weird and foreign and surreal to her. As if it were happening to someone else and she’s just a mere spectator. The idea that something as small as a blueberry will one day turn into a proper baby, a child, a teenager … a whole ass adult - is so wild to her. Almost incomprehensible. A person with their own feelings and dreams and personality. (Y/N) wonders if at any point in this pregnancy, she'll wake up and it'll all just make sense or if that only comes once she's holding the baby in her arms.

“That's cute. Doesn't answer my question though. What brings you here?”

A shadow of something flickers across Jamie’s face. Something unreadable and unfamiliar. Something that makes (Y/N) feel a sense of dread bubbling up in her stomach.

“I uh — I can’t do this.”

And there it is. That unfamiliar shadow is now a metaphorical atom bomb, a mushroom cloud of all that could have been and won’t be.

“Oh okay. I mean no, not okay. This sucks actually. You said you wanted to be part of the baby’s life and now you’re bailing? That’s a shit move, Jamie. You’re a right prick for pulling that crap.” 

“What? Oh no!” his eyes widen as the realization sets in. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well then what did you mean? Cause you’re truly giving me a heart attack right now. Second one for today. You really need to start working on your conversation starters.” 

She had given him the chance to opt out of being a dad, to not be a part of the baby’s life. It seemed like the right thing to do and, foolishly, (Y/N) had believed that she’d be okay with him doing just that. In this very moment though, she feels everything but okay. The idea of Jamie changing his mind is terrifying. 

Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you need something — or someone until you’re faced with the possibility of losing them.

“I mean, I can’t do this alone. I need to tell someone. All I keep thinking about is the baby and I feel like I am going to explode any second now. I know we can’t tell everyone yet ‘cause of — well you know, things going wrong and stuff. But I need to tell someone. You got to tell Rebecca and your mum, I think it’s only fair I get to tell two people as well, yeah?”

A sense of relief floods her. Starts in her toes and fills her all the way to the top of her head. He wants this — wants the baby. It’s not just her in this. It’s nice to know you have someone in your corner. It’s also scary. Because he deserves to know just whose team he’s on. And being vulnerable fucking sucks. 

“Jamie, that’s fine. Absolutely you can tell your mum.” 

“And Simon? You got two people so — “

“I didn’t though.” 

“Uh yes, you did. I know you told Rebecca.” 

“That’s right.”

“And your mum too”.

The silence that follows his words is deafening. Being vulnerable means also admitting guilt. It means owning up to all of your mistakes. Though we are not the sum of our mistakes, they are what help shape the person we become. And (Y/N) really doesn’t think they make her a very good one.

“And your mum too?” 

More silence.

“You didn’t tell your mum? Why not? “

To his credit, Jamie looks truly surprised and confused. There is no judgment there, just absolute bewilderment and that signature softness that rounds out his features and settles in his eyes whenever Jamie talks to her about something serious. Granted they’ve not had that many conversations but she hopes that softness stays. She hopes that maybe their baby can have those soft, gentle eyes too.

“I’m not sure. I think I’m scared. My mum and I have a — complicated relationship. I disappoint her, she judges me. You know, the usual.” 

“You think she’ll be disappointed because we're having a baby? Is it because of me?”

(Y/N) shrugs, breaking eye contact and fixing her gaze on the old grey carpet with the ugly 90s pattern. What if those soft eyes can look straight through her, see all the ugly parts and the insecurities? That’s too scary for now. Too much too soon.

“No, it has nothing to do with you. Think she’ll just be disappointed I didn’t get pregnant according to the timeline she dreamed up for my life when I was like 2 years old. Had it all planned out for me and I never stuck to it.” 

Jamie is quiet for a moment but (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look back up at him. She can’t deal with any more pity.

“Well if you want to practice telling a mum, we can start with mine.”

“Huh?” 

“You can come to Manchester with me if you want. To tell my mum. We’ll have one mum down then, makes it easier to do it a second time. It’s science.” 

Jamie has the fascinating quality of making you believe in his words just by being so undeniably charming and because he believes in them himself. He makes it look easy when it is everything but.

“And if things don’t go well with your mum at least you’ll know you have at least one mum you can rely on, even if it’s not your own. She raised me pretty much by herself so she knows a thing or two about babies and parenting and stuff.” 

The mocking raise of (Y/N)’s right eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by Jamie who opens his lips to a silent gasp and clutches his chest with an overly dramatic gesture. 

“What? You saying I didn’t turn out perfectly?”

“No,” she laughs, a lightness festering in her chest. Like the first rays of sunshine after a cold winter that never seemed to end. Like a glass of wine after a long day at work. Like your favorite song on the radio at the exact moment you need it most. “I think you turned out exactly the way you were supposed to.” 

“Thanks,” Jamie says with that cheeky smile playing on his lips that makes him look a little younger than he actually is. Then he dares to wink at her and it’s a little annoying but also insanely charming. “Not sure you meant it as a compliment but I am taking it. Now when are you free for a trip up to Manchester?” 

(Y/N)’s been on a lot of road trips around the country when she was younger. She’s even spent a whole summer traveling Europe, partially by train but most of the time was spent stuffed in a Fiat Punto with 3 of her friends and all their luggage. It was stuffy, it was chaotic and it was immensely fun. None of those road trips ever involved a shiny black Aston Martin Rapide though. 

Or a famous footballer dressed in the ugliest lime green sweater (Y/N) has ever seen. 

“That’s all the luggage you got?” Jamie questions as he moves the black shades off of his eyes and sets them on the top of his head, holding back some of his hair. It shouldn’t work so well but it does. 

“I mean, we’re only staying for a night right? Why? Should I have brought more? How much did you pack?” 

He glances at her, then towards the car, and back at her. A sheepish look crosses his face before being replaced by his childlike cheekiness. “That’s confidential. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” 

“I got my ginger lollies, that’s all that matters really.” 

“You feeling alright?” 

“Mh, I’m good. Just pregnant.” 

His eyes drop down to her stomach for just a second before he nods his head in what (Y/N) can only describe as a mix of pride and satisfaction. “Yeah, you are.” 

That’s new. Well not new-new but it hasn’t happened since the day of the funeral. That tingly feeling in her stomach that has fuck all to do with the baby and everything with how the baby got there. Yes, Jamie is hot and (Y/N) is the first to admit as much but there has been so much stress and chaos and she hardly had time to think about anything but surviving and making sure not to completely lose herself in bad visions of what-ifs that her brain has had no time to process any feelings of arousal or lust. That look he just gave her though, that one made her remember it for just a second.

“You sure you’re alright?” 

Jamie’s voice shakes her from her daydream and brings her back to the real world, her eyes focusing back on the obscene car parked in front of her tiny apartment building looking so insanely out of place.

“Uh yes, I’m fine. I just — sometimes I forget that you’re famous.” 

Jamie regards her for a moment before shrugging his shoulder and grabbing the bag from her hands. “I don’t. It’s fun. Now come on, let’s goooooo.” 

His voice is dipped in excitement and there’s a bounce in his step. If this is how the prospect of seeing his mother makes him feel and behave, she must be one lovely woman. Whenever (Y/N) thinks of her own mother her chest fills with tiny metaphorical icicles. Sharp and rough and painful. It’s all regret and judgment and disapproval. It’s “You gained weight”, “you look tired”, and “You should really look into getting a new job”. Daggers disguised as roses. Stabs right to the heart in the name of being honest. “I just care about you, because I love you, because I am your mother!” 

If there is one thing (Y/N) knows for sure, it’s that she will never ever find the need to resort to criticism and thinly veiled malice in order to show her child that she cares. They will know. Every single day. Because she’ll make sure to show them. Every single day in all the big and tiny ways a person can show their love. 

“Kidney Bean?”

“Kidney Bean. And apparently, the baby is sprouting webbed fingers and toes right now. Oh, and it’s starting to move!” 

“Can you feel that?” 

“No, not yet.” 

“It’s mental. Last week she was the size of a blueberry and now she’s a kidney bean. Kid’s growing up too fast.” 

It’s true. There is so much happening all at once and it’s almost impossible to really process it all. Suddenly there is a tiny spark of a human inside her. Not really a baby yet but a baby to her. And it's moving and developing and changing every second of every day. Fucking insane.

“Wait … you said she. You think it’s a girl?”

Maybe it’s the sunlight casting a glow through the windshield but (Y/N) is almost certain she can just about make out a blush dusting Jamie’s cheeks. 

“Dunno.”

“Jamie Tartt, do you want to be a girl dad?” 

He glances at (Y/N) through the corner of his eyes for just a moment but it’s enough for her to see the sincerity in him. This is something he’s thought about before. Learning new things about Jamie is fascinating.

“Ah,  it’s stupid, really. It’s — It’s dumb or whatever.” 

“No, come on, don't go shy on me now. Tell me.” 

He takes a deep breath. A moment passes then another. There is no rush. Sometimes silly thoughts are the result of harsh truths. 

“Told you my dad was a prick. Like the biggest piece of shit walking this earth, yeah? And I knew that all my life. Thing is I still tried to impress him. I just — I wanted him to like me so badly. Just felt wrong that me own dad didn’t care about me and that made me angry. And I kept that anger inside me for so long. Sometimes when I think about the baby and the future I am scared that if I have a son that anger will jump over to him. Like maybe all Tartt men are cursed or some shit like that. But if I had a little girl maybe that would make it easier for me to be a good dad. I don’t mind either way, obviously, but the idea of having a son scares me.” 

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been with her so far and by the way he clenches his jaw and grabs onto the steering wheel just a little tighter, (Y/N) can tell this isn’t easy on him. It means a lot that he shares this part of him with her anyway. It feels like they are actually becoming friends. So opening up to him in return is only half as horrifying. 

“When I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, I wrote a short story for school and I won an award. They did this big ceremony thing where the 3 finalists got to read their stories out loud for an audience and then receive their prizes. My mum didn’t show up, not sure if it was because she stayed longer at the office and didn’t care enough to leave on time or if she just didn’t feel like getting out of the house. Point is, she wasn’t there. When I came home that night I was sad, obviously, and I was also pissed. Because why the fuck couldn’t she take one night off to come see me succeed at something even if it wasn’t something she deemed worthy of praise. 

So I yelled at her and I’m sure I said some hurtful things. But I was so devastated and angry and I needed an outlet for once. She called me ungrateful but I was used to that, she always called me ungrateful. Then she looked at me with that look of absolute resignation and malice and she said that she hopes I have a daughter like me one day and that she makes me realize how hard it is to love me. 

When I think of the baby, sometimes I see a little girl too. One that I will love so much she never has to doubt it for a single second. And I will also prove my mother wrong. Because it will be so easy to love my little girl and it would’ve been so easy to love me, her little girl.” 

It’s the first time she’s ever said those words out loud. Truly, (Y/N) had not expected for them to come out in an Aston Martin, on the way to meet her baby’s father’s mother but life doesn’t seem to care for plans very much these days.

Softly, as if to not startle her, Jamie places his hand on hers, squeezing gently.

“I think your mum is a right bitch.” 

“Thanks. I think your dad is a huge asshole.” 

“We’re gonna be better than them, right?” 

It’s not really a question. It’s more of a promise.

“We will. I know it.”

His hand doesn’t leave hers for a good long while. 

The nerves don’t hit her until they pull up to the quaint little house with the white front. There’s a rose bush to the side and some kids playing football just across the way. The nerves don’t hit her until Jamie puts the car in park but when they do, they hit her like a freight train.

“Woah, you alright?” 

“Huh?” 

“You look all pale and like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Do you have to puke?”

A chuckle falls from her lips at the absurdity of it all. In all honesty, she’s not met a lot of parents yet but the few she did meet were parents of actual partners. People she had been dating for a while. It was a natural progression of steps. This is all wrong and sideways and topsy-turvy. You’re supposed to meet the mum first and then get pregnant. 

Again with the life and the plans. 

“I’m fucking nervous.” 

“Hah,” Jamie laughs. The audacity of this guy. “You’re nervous to meet my mum? Why? She’s an angel.”

“Do you not know how intimidating that is? Like, if she was shit I wouldn’t care but she sounds wonderful and I want her to like me. No, I need her to like me. Desperately. And I can only imagine what she thinks of me already. Some floozy who gets knocked up and really just wants your money.” 

Before she even fully realizes what’s happening, (Y/N) feels Jamie’s hands on her cheeks, framing her face in warmth.

“Calm down, please. I promise it’ll be alright. My mum will love you, I know it. Probably more than she loves me. Actually no that’s a lie, but she will love you and she will love our baby. Promise.”

“She’s not gonna judge me for — you know. Getting pregnant even though we’re not dating or anything.” 

“My mum was married to my dad, worst person on planet Earth. Don’t think she’s in any position to judge you. It’ll be alright, trust me.” 

She hardly knows this man and yet she can’t help but do just that. Trust him.

The first thing (Y/N) notices about Georgie is her smile. A smile that is so familiar because it looks exactly like Jamie’s smile. Warm and radiant and true. A part of (Y/N) hopes that their baby inherits that same smile. Partially because it’s a really good smile and partially because maybe that could help Jamie realize that he is more than the sum of his father’s problems and mistakes. He is all his mother’s boy.

“Oh, I missed you, my baby.” 

Georgie wraps her arms around Jamie’s middle, getting swallowed by his frame for a moment. There’s no denying that part of (Y/N)’s heart breaks a little seeing how loving of a relationship these two have and wondering where she and her own mother went wrong.

And as it so happens with so many kids that have never been loved quite the way they deserved, (Y/N) can’t help but search for the problem in herself. 

“Yeah sorry for not visiting earlier. You know how it is with training and stuff.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I know my boy is busy being a star.” 

The words hold a slight mocking, never mean but in the way that only people who are close can tease each other. You know every word comes laced with deep affection, with pride, with love.

“And it’s so nice to meet you too. I’m Georgie.” 

It takes a second for (Y/N) to realize that Jamie’s mum is now talking to her directly.

“I uh — oh thank you. Nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” 

Georgie smells like mint chewing gum and floral perfume as she pulls (Y/N) into a hug. She’s soft and gentle and it’s been the first hug from a mother (Y/N) has received in quite some time.

“Sorry, didn’t even ask if you’re a hugger.”

“Oh that’s alright, don’t worry about it.” 

She’s not a hugger, never really was, but there is something about Georgie granting her some affection that isn’t all that bad. Maybe their kid can have at least one grandmother who cares and who isn’t completely disgusted by the idea of showing any kind of positive emotions.

“Jamie never brings girlfriends around so I’m a bit out of my element here if I’m being honest.” 

“Mum we’re not — she’s not.” Jamie takes a big breath before starting again “(Y/N) and I are friends, yeah? Told you about it on the phone.” 

“Right, right. Well, you don’t bring around a lot of friends either so same difference, really. Now come inside will you, I’m sure we got a lot to catch up on.”

Oh if only she knew how true that sentiment really is.

There are pictures of Jamie staring back at (Y/N) from every corner of the house and Georgie leads them through the hallway and towards the kitchen. Every wall and every shelf holds a memory of him at one point in his life. Gap toothed with a football in hand smiling, surrounded by a field of tulips arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder, his teenage self smoldering at the camera with an even more questionable haircut than the one he is sporting right now. Oh to be loved in a way that every past version of you is being remembered.

As they reach the kitchen a sweet scent fills the room when a man clad in an apron turns around and faces them with a huge smile playing on his face. He has a dorky kind of charm to him that immediately puts you at ease. Maybe it’s just the frilly apron, maybe it’s the big oven gloves, maybe it’s the smile. Either way, (Y/N) thinks that if they take the news well, her kid might have truly lucked out on one side of the grandparents department. 

“Jamie, welcome home.” 

“Hi Simon, thanks, mate. Glad to be back. This is (Y/N).” 

“The friend, right.” Simon says and shoots Georgie a look that neither of them misses. Subtlety doesn’t seem to be one of his best qualities. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you too. It smells amazing in here.” 

“I found this new recipe for honey blondies. Not sure if they'll be any good but I guess we'll find out. If you guys want to go have a seat, I'll come bring them over.”

“Actually,” Jamie speaks up while nervously fiddling with his hands. “I was hoping we could have a talk before we do anything else. There’s something I need to tell you both.” 

Imagining the hypothetical scenario of telling your mum you’re having a baby and actually doing it really are two completely different things it seems. Gone is all of Jamie’s confidence and replaced with a whole lot of anxiety. 

“You're worrying me, Jamie. What has you acting so serious? Did you get someone pregnant or something?”

Georgie's words are followed by a thick awkward silence. It's heavy and suffocating and it makes (Y/N) feel uneasy in both her heart and her head.

It doesn't take long for Jamie’s parents to realize what his silence means. Everything communicated by not saying a single word.

“Oh, fuck.”

And there's nothing to add to Georgie's reaction. It's the exact same one (Y/N) had when she first saw those faint blue lines.

Of all the possible outcomes and ways this day could’ve gone, (Y/N) had not expected to find herself staring at not only a curly-haired Roy Kent but also come face to face with two very persuasive arguments belonging to no other than Keeley fucking Jones. 

“This is surreal.” 

The posters stare back at her all crinkled paper and bleached ink, as if to mock her silently. 

“Ah, well I told them to redecorate when I moved out, think they just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” 

A light dusting of pink settles on the apples of Jamie’s cheeks as well as the tips of his ears. This man can’t hide his emotions for the life of him. It’s quite adorable really. 

“Do they know?” 

“Does who know?” 

“Roy and Keeley. Do they know you have their pictures up in your room?”

“Well no and It’s not my room anymore, is it? ‘S not like I have ‘em hanging at home. Put these up ages ago.” 

A giggle slips through (Y/N)’s lips at his desperate attempt to talk himself out of this situation. 

“It’s okay, Jamie. I won’t tell.” 

“There’s nothing to tell, alright?” he responds in mock offense before sitting down on his childhood bed next to (Y/N). “Just liked boobs and football and those two were the best those fields had to offer, yeah? Can’t really blame me.” 

“Not much has changed has it?”

He shrugs his shoulders in response “Nah. Still like boobs and football but no way I’d put up a poster of granddad’s ugly mug nowadays.”

From the few times they talked about his job, including his teammates and coaches, (Y/N) was able to gather that Jamie’s relationship with Roy is something special. Odd, but special. Maybe that’s what happens when you end up working with your childhood idol. Either way, no matter how much shit he likes to talk about him, it’s clear that Jamie respects and admires Roy a great deal still.

“And uh — and Keeley?” 

“What about her?” 

“Is she — are you — how are things?” 

She still remembers that crestfallen look on his face on the day of the funeral. That infinite sadness in his eyes. She hadn’t put two and two together at that moment but later that night it all clicked. Keeley was the woman he was in love with, the woman who did not love him back. And while (Y/N) knows that she and Jamie are only bound together by happenstance and fate — if one chooses to believe in that, and that there is nothing romantic about their situation, it does sting a little to know that the man you’re having a baby with is in love with someone else.

“We’re good. We’re friends, think that’s all we’ll ever be. Her and Roy, they’re happy and I don’t want to ruin it for either of them. Keeley and I just were not right together.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” 

He nods his head, a small smile playing on his lips “Yeah, I’m alright with it. If I hadn’t made a fool of myself at the funeral then you and I wouldn’t have — you know, and then we wouldn’t be having a baby. Little Kidney Bean.” 

“That’s true. Your mum seemed excited.” 

“Hah, sorry about her. She can be intense.” 

Intense might be the understatement of the century. It took her approximately 2.3 seconds to get over the initial shock of the announcement and really process it before Georgie let out a scream of pure excitement and joy and wrapped both Jamie and (Y/N) up in her arms. She didn’t fully let go for a good 20 minutes. It was intense. It was also phenomenal.

“Don’t apologize. I am so glad she took it so well, Simon too. At least now I’ll have the certainty that my baby will have one set of loving grandparents at least.” 

“Hey,” Jamie says and nudges her shoulder with his “We’ll sort out telling your mum next, okay. I’m sure it’ll go better than you think. And if not we can always call up my mum for some more hugs and a pep talk. Whatever happens, you won’t have to do it alone. I promise.” 

For what is probably the first time in her life (Y/N) lets herself believe that there truly is someone else having her back, undisputedly and all the way. It’s unfamiliar. It’s a little scary. It’s also wonderful.

“Thanks, Jamie. I appreciate it, I really do. Think so far we’re doing alright, huh?” 

“I’d say so. Two sexy parents and a little Kidney Bean.” 

Their laughter echoes through Jamie’s childhood bedroom for quite a while longer until at some point it stills and gives room to soft breathing and quiet snores. The bed isn’t meant for two grown adults and really Jamie truly meant to sleep on the couch but somewhere between talks of baby clothes and childhood memories, eyes grew heavy and tired, and soon enough both of them are fast asleep.

Just them and their little Kidney Bean 

— and a curly-haired Roy Kent 

— and Keeley’s boobs.

taglist (@ me if you want to be taken off or added): @captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy

[wonusite]

Fool For You

❝ We’re all fools when it comes to love, and the cute nerd in your calculus class has to learn this the hard way. Luckily, you’re there to help him through it. ❞

pairing: joshua hong x female reader

genre: college au, fwb au, smut, fluff

word count: 5.1k

warnings: nerd!shua, cheerleader!reader, josh is nothing more than a simp in denial, shua is also vv bad at hiding his feelings, mingyu is the captain of this ship, jealousy, pining, teasing, begging, cockwarming, oral sex (f receiving), riding, spanking, multiple creampies, unprotected sex, jealous sex, overstimulation

read part one

a/n: written due to my inability to get over this concept. minors dni!!!

Josh is almost too good at hiding his budding feelings for you. It’s funny how good he is at pretending that he doesn’t feel an inexplicable warmth in his chest when you sit next to him in calculus. It’s even funnier how he manages to convince you that he’s unaffected when you continuously go to the library just to spend time with him. And it’s fucking hilarious how he acts like he hasn’t seen the latest photos and videos you’ve uploaded when he knows full well that he has the post notifications on for all your socials.

Part of him knows that this facade he has going on is only a byproduct of his denial. After all, the feeling he gets in his chest every time he so much as thinks about you only becomes real if he acknowledges it. His unwillingness to admit his growing feelings is a defense mechanism of sorts because no one had ever made him feel the way you did.

It comforting to him that you actually like the more irritating parts of his personality. The cold and aloof attitude he displayed turned off a lot of people who would’ve otherwise been in his life. But you didn’t care about that because you liked every part of him.

Joshua tries not to think of all this as you’re literally bouncing on his cock, but it’s hard not to. Not with the way your head is thrown back in pleasure, pretty lips dropped open as even prettier moans spill from them. The way your captivating eyes are focused on his face when you come down from yet another orgasm has his cock throbbing wildly. It’s hard to not be overwhelmed with emotion when you direct that beautiful smile of yours at him.

A smile that’s meant for him and only him.

In an effort to focus on the pleasure and not the intensity of the feelings consuming his entire being, he starts to snap his cock into you more harshly. Your shaky moans and needy whimpers make him tighten his grip on your waist. Josh can’t stop a teasing smirk from lifting his lips when he feels your hot cunt start to spasm around his dick. Your arousal is dripping down to his balls and has a wet slapping sound filling his room. The carnal heat in his gut clouds his mind as he starts to guide you down on his dick to fuck you deeper.

“I– fuck.” You let out a choked moan, feeling Josh’s throbbing tip hit your sweet spot. “Gonna come again.”

Josh loves how fucked out you look, completely gone in the pleasure only he can give you. “Yeah? Come for me, pretty girl.”

You love it when he calls you that, and you’re pretty sure he knows it because he always calls you that when he wants you to come on his cock. Josh’s large hands smooth up your body to roughly palm your tits. A loud cry escapes you when he pinches and pulls your sensitive nipples. That’s all it takes for you to gush around his cock.

His hips don’t stop, chasing after his own high with a ferocious need. Josh’s large hands snake down your body and grab a handful of your ass to roughly pull you deeper onto his cock, the giant tip hitting deeper inside you than before. You can feel him throbbing inside you wildly as he starts bouncing you up and down his fat cock.

“Josh!” You cry out when he slams into your spongy spot with a particularly sharp thrust.

The loud cries and moans you’re letting out turn into pathetic mewls as he repeatedly slams over that spot again and again. Joshua watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, absolutely mesmerized. It’s an erotic sight that triggers his own orgasm. Thick ropes of cum spill inside you, filling you up to the brim. Your moans mix in with Josh’s as his seed slowly spills down to his balls.

For a moment, you two just hold on to each other. Josh softly rubs his cheek against your chest, not wanting to seperate from you. He loves the feeling of your nails gently running through his hair and grazing his scalp. It feels oddly intimate, yet he doesn’t stop you from doing it.

A sudden possessiveness overwhelms him, and before he realizes what he’s doing, he has you pinned underneath him, cock still fully sheathed inside you. The teasing grin you’re directing at him makes his dick throb in need.

“Still want more?” You ask through quiet pants.

“You know I’ll never get enough of you, baby.”

His smooth voice has your cunt squeezing his aching cock once again, velvety walls locking him in and refusing to let him go. Joshua lets out a low groan as he snakes an arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. “Fuck. Your greedy little pussy won’t let me go, babe.”

His hips press into yours, and you can only whimper when the fat tip of his leaking cock brushes against your sweet spot. Your eyes roll back as you push your hips up to meet his gentle thrusts. It makes Josh smile. You’re always so pliant and needy for him, always ready to take everything he gives you.

“Oh, fuck!” You moan wantonly as his thrusts turn sharp and rough.

His balls are clapping against your ass and your arousal is coating his entire pelvis—the wet slapping sound of sex filling his room. A carnal need suddenly consumes Josh, and he starts drilling into you at an unrelenting pace. Your choked moans and loud crises of his name has Josh’s chest burning with insatiable desire. It’s apparent in the rhythm he sets as he’s stretching you open on his cock.

You’re starting to lose yourself to the pleasure his big dick is bringing you, but you can still feel the way his arm releases your waist and trails down to your puffy cunt. Josh’s long fingers start rubbing quick circles on your sensitive clit, the delicious motion making you see stars.

“Your pussy was fucking made for me.”

He knows you’re too far gone to answer when all you can do is moan stupidly, eyes rolled all the way back as his fingers pinch and twist your puffy clit. Still, your hips are still twisting in time to meet his deep thrusts. Josh feels his heart start to race when your breathe out his name so desperately, hot walls squeezing the sensitive head of his cock when he slams against your sweet spot.

Right now he feels drunk, trying futilely to hold back the needy whines and whimpers on the tip on his tongue. He grips your hips and focuses on fucking his aching cock into your doughy count. Josh’s pace stutters when you mewl his name with something that comes dangerously close to affection.

Everything is almost too much for him—you are almost too much. He’s gotten better at fucking you and not letting too much of his emotions through, but fuck. You always made it so hard. Every time you blink up at him with your pretty eyes and cute pout he feels like you can see right through his stoic facade.

Your walls squeeze his cock, and he knows you’re close. He is too. “You...” he grunts, jaw clenching as he fucks into you. “Do you love m— this?”

Joshua stresses the last word, eyes bulging when he realizes what he almost asked you. Luckily, you were too fucked out to notice. He keeps pounding into you, wondering why his heart feels like it’s on the verge of exploding.

With a few more strokes, you two come at the same time, smashing your lips together to swallow each other’s moans. For now, Josh only focuses on the way you just melt against him, seeking a comforting embrace. He gives it to you like always, slowly easing himself out of you before gently rubbing along your spent body.

You blink back into reality when you feel a warm towel between your legs, gently and attentively cleaning you up. A soft sigh escapes you. If only you could lay in between your little nerd’s soft sheets forever.

“You don’t have to leave.” Josh is quick to say when you sit up and start getting dressed. He almost wants to hit himself for how awkwardly desperate he sounds.

You look back at him with a quiet giggle. “I know, but if I stay we’ll end up fucking all night and I won’t have any energy for practice tomorrow. The team’s still annoyed with me because I haven’t been landing my stunts like I usually do.”

Before you, Joshua didn’t believe cheerleading to be an actual sport. Shaking pompoms and chanting some cheesy cheer didn’t seem like something that required any actual athleticism, but as he got to know you, he realized that he had it all wrong. Tumbling and flying were nothing if not athletic. The proof was in your physical state. More often than not, you would suffer from muscle strains and ligament sprains.

“Cheer is a contact sport, Joshy.” You said casually as you iced your ankles one day. “Every time I land one of my stunts, I’m landing on five times my body weight. This sort of thing is bound to happen.”

It only made the feeling in his chest intensify after you casually dismissed the clear pain you were in. Since then, this lingering feeling always creeps up on him when you’re around. It’s the same feeling he has as he watches you gather your things. Even as you press a chaste kiss on his lips to say goodbye, the feeling doesn’t go away.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Josh groans with a small smirk. “You sound like you want something.”

You swallow the whimper at the edge of your throat and will yourself to come to your senses. Yes, you were becoming impatient, but this time you were determined to not beg. Somehow, you managed to let out a breathy scoff. “That’s funny because it feels like you want something.”

Josh doesn’t know when you made it a habit to cockwarm him every time you two study at his place, but he’s not complaining. The feeling of your tight cunt wrapped snugly against his cock is a feeling he’ll never get sick of. Plus, he absolutely loves it when you fall apart for him, so desperate and needy.

It’s sort of a game between you two now. Both of you want to see the other give in first and move. You always say it’s not fair that he rolls and pinches your clit to get you to grind your hips. He always points out it’s not fair of you to clench down on him knowing that the tightness of your cunt drives him crazy with need.

This time, however, you’re winning.

His thick cock is throbbing inside you wildly, and Josh keeps burying his face into your neck. The feather light kisses he was placing on the tender flesh at the beginning of your game have become harsher and more frequent.

“And if I do? Will you give it to me?”

Fuck.

“You’re creaming all over my cock, baby.” Josh’s lips brush against your cheek sinfully. “Making such a fucking mess. Be a good girl and move for me, hm?”

He’s goading you into moving your hips to fuck yourself on his cock, but you don’t relent, knowing he’s so close to snapping. “I don’t feel like being a good girl.”

Josh’s large hands leisurely wander up and down your body, rolling your hardened nipples between his warm fingers. “You’re so mean.”

You can only smirk as his hands settle on your hips. “I learned from the best.”

All it takes is you clenching down on him one more time for Josh to give in. The grip on your hips becomes bruised as he starts to thrust deeply into your dripping cunt. His thrusts are rough and sharp, not once stopping in his fast pace.

All he can think is how he’s going to make you gush on his cock all night. You did win, after all.

Josh can’t put a name on what you two have. To say it’s a friends with benefits relationship doesn’t really seem to fit. It’s not like you two are enemies, but to say that you're actual friends doesn’t seem right either. Sure, he’s grown significantly more fond of you since you took his virginity, but despite everything, he still doesn’t know how to label what you two have.

Maybe that’s why he freezes when Vernon asks if you two are dating.

The small table at the corner of the library suddenly goes uncomfortably silent. Vernon and Soonyoung exchange a look as Jeonghan watches, entirely amused, when Josh grows visibly flustered.

“No.” You say without looking up from your phone. “We just hang out sometimes.”

Your answer is accepted without much doubt, and soon enough the conversation continues as if the initial question was never asked. Jeonghan is the only one to notice his friend’s displeased frown. He wonders if Josh is aware of the face he’s making. Probably not.

It’s true that you and Josh aren‘t dating, but you didn’t have to be so hasty to confirm that fact to Vernon. You also didn’t have to sound and act so indifferent when the question came up. It probably shouldn’t bother him as much as it does, but he can’t help the bitterness that fills his mouth when he keeps thinking about your response. To reduce what’s going on between you two as hanging out was borderline insulting. Sure, it was mainly sex, but there was an underlying intimacy to this thing you guys had.

But clearly, you didn’t seem to think so.

And why should it matter to him if you didn’t see it the way he did?

So what if Josh knows what kind of foods you like? So what if he knows that you prefer to be the big spoon when you two cuddle? So what if he knows that you’re majoring in computer science despite your parents being against it? So what if he knows that you never wanted to be a cheerleader, but only did it to please your mother? So what if he knows that you’re more than just a pretty face like everyone thinks?

None of that means you two are together or will be in the future. And that’s fine. In fact, it’s perfectly fine and doesn’t bother Joshua at all.

He’s the one who insisted on keeping things between you two casual, anyway. It was only natural for you to act like your relationship was only physical.

When Jeonghan invites him to the football game on Friday night, Josh isn’t sure why he agrees to go. He’s never been interested in football, and he certainly wasn’t now. However, to be able to see you in your cheer uniform was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. The sight alone feels worth it to him.

That is, until he sees the paint on your cheek.

Joshua feels like his jaw could snap from how hard he’s clenching it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows he shouldn’t be so angry. It’s not like you two were even dating. But still, how could you write Kim fucking Mingyu’s number on your cheek? Did the time you two spend together mean nothing to you?

“Can you make it any more obvious?” Jeonghan wonders with a smirk.

Finally, Josh manages to take his eyes off of you to look at his friend. “What are you talking about?”

“We can all tell you’re mad, but aren’t you the one who told Y/N that you just wanted to fuck on the DL with no strings?”

Joshua isn’t a violent guy, but the urge to throttle his friend has never been stronger. Technically, yes, he did say that to you at one point. But he also didn’t go around flirting with other girls despite there not being anything between you two that went beyond a physical relationship. Not like how you were flirting with every jock that came by to say hi to you. Especially that stupid Mingyu guy.

“I just think her behavior is so high school. Who still does the number on the cheek thing?” Josh’s sulky scowl deepens when he watches you laugh along to something Mingyu said.

“Maybe it is.” Jeonghan has to physically stop himself from cackling. “But so is yours.”

Josh can’t really say anything because it’s true. He was acting like a jealous teenager whose actions were being dictated by spite. Still, one thing was certain. As soon as the game was over and he took you back to his place, he was going to remind you that no one was capable of fucking you he did.

You don’t think much of Josh’s silence when you get back to his place. Well, that’s not exactly true. Part of you is excited because it seemed like your friend’s cliche plan was actually working. Ever since you got drunk and let it slip to Mingyu that you had feelings for Josh, he made it his personal mission to play matchmaker. You were too embarrassed to say that you guys were actually fucking, but the feelings seemed to be one-sided.

Mingyu’s plan was a bit simple minded since it all depended on a tale as old as time—jealousy. He seemed so sure that he planned everything from the paint on your cheek to the “flirting” that took place at the game. You had doubted his methods right until Josh tells you to wash that stupid paint off your face.

“Make me.”

Those two words are enough to make your sweet little nerd snap.

Part of you slightly regrets it, but the larger part doesn’t because you absolutely love it when he’s rough and mean. Just like he’s being now as you’re sitting on his lap with nothing but your panties on.

“You’re such a fucking brat.” Joshua growls. His fingers are gripping the satin material of your panties so they’re pulled tautly and tightly against the throbbing flesh of your wet cunt.

“You think you’re cute flirting with that dumbass football player?” His words are punctured by another harsh tug to your underwear.

You shake your head, unable to believe your idiot friend was actually right. “Juh-Josh!”

He pulls you closer and gently nips at your jaw while his other hand keeps pulling at your underwear. Josh is entirely captivated with the way your swollen lips swallow the damp fabric. He smiles wolfishly when you start to tremble against him. It’s not long after that you feel the coil in your stomach snap, moaning loudly as you gush all over Josh’s jean-clad thigh.

But he’s hardly done. Joshua grips your hips and starts grinding your clothed cunt against his leg. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the overstimulation starts to become too much for you. Still, it’s not enough. It will never be enough until he splits you open on his cock. And he knows this, which is why he won’t give you what you want until he’s satisfied with your begging.

“Shua, please!” You whine pathetically. “Just fuck me already!”

This finally seems to be enough for him because soon a enough you find your face pressed against the mattress with Josh’s cock ramming into your sensitive cunt. A stinging swat comes down onto your arcing ass that’s already burning from the slaps he delivered to you earlier. It makes you moan out stupidly.

“What’s that?” His chuckle is cruel. “Did I already fuck you stupid?”

His hands are on your hips, forcing you back on to his cock roughly. The tip of his cock is slamming against your g-spot, and he groans when your walls squeeze his cock until you’re creaming on him for the second time.

Josh moans along with you as his cock keeps ravaging your tight little pussy. The euphoric feeling of his thick cock throbbing deep inside you with every languid stroke makes your creamy cunt squeeze him again as if it doesn’t want him to disconnect.

“Fuck, Y/N!” He moans as his hot cum spills inside you.

Another sharp strike connects with the globe of your ass. His large hand spread your cheeks as he roughly fucks his cum back into your sopping hole. Josh’s thrust abruptly slow, and for a second you think he’s done, but he only flips you over so his chest is pressed against yours.

A carnal heat clouds Josh’s mind when he sees your fucked out face gazing up at him. He starts fucking his cock back into your battered cunt.

“More.” You mewl, lifting you hips to meet his thrusts.

“That’s it, baby.” Josh growls as his cock plunges in and out of you, filling his room with a lewd squelching sound. “Beg for this fucking cock.”

The sharp buck of his strong hips clashing against your own forces your body to jolt upward at the rough contact. Josh fucks into your pussy as mercilessly as he can, desperate to have you think of him and only him.

All you can feel is his fat cock ramming into your insides, and you’re so fucking glad that you listened to Mingyu. “Don’t stop!”

“You’re squeezing me so tightly.” Josh sighs dreamily. “So perfect for me.”

“I-I’m gonna come.” You whimper as he starts pounding into you faster and harder than before.

His cock is so deep inside you, and you love every moment of it. You’ll never get enough.

“Mingyu can’t fuck you like this.” Josh suddenly growls as his pace reaches a new level of fast. “Only I can because this sweet cunt is all mine, right?”

You can only moan in response, eyes shutting tightly from the overwhelming amount of pleasure of Josh fucking into you. “All yours, baby. Only yours.”

Your words trigger both your orgasms, the only sound that can be heard in the room is his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he fills you with his sticky cum. That emotion from before settles in his chest as you cling to him, refusing to let go.

Josh presses a gentle kiss to your temple, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.

“Stay here tonight.” His whisper is soft as his arms tighten around you. “Please.”

Your heart clenches after hearing how desperate and vulnerable Josh sounds. Maybe it’s wishful thinking or post-sex bliss, but it makes an inexplicable warmth spread throughout your body. You gently run your nails along the nape of his neck before softly caressing his hair. “Okay.” You agree in a whisper. “I’ll stay.”

It simultaneously relieves and frustrates Josh that you don’t seem to notice how much affection he actually has for you despite being wrapped up in each other’s arms. Fleetingly, he considers telling you about the feelings consuming him, but he ultimately decides against it.

There’s always next time, after all.

“—heard Mingyu is going to confess to Y/N.”

Josh nearly trips over his feet when he’s walking to his next class and he catches the last part of a stranger’s conversation. It’s crazy for him to stop the random guy and demand to know how he knew this information. It’s even crazier for him to ditch his class to go to the spot the stranger mentions you and Mingyu are at.

He doesn’t remember the last time he ran this much or this fast. His lungs are burning, but he can’t care about that right now. Not when that stupid jock has you all alone with the intention of asking you out.

There’s a terrible jerk in his chest when he sees you and Mingyu together outside the library. You two are talking casually, and Josh’s mind is clouded with a feeling he vaguely acknowledges as jealousy. He won’t allow Kim Mingyu to confess to you at such a sacred place. Our place, he angrily thinks.

“Y/N.” Joshua says as calmly as he can once he’s close enough. “What are you doing?”

It’s a question that throws you off because you specifically remember mentioning that you were going to work on a project with a friend. He had been chill about it, even going as far as to invite you over after his last class of the day was over. The real question is what was he doing? You’ve never known Josh to skip out on any classes, and you weren’t sure why he was choosing now of all moments to do so.

“Mingyu and I—”

“Were having a private discussion.” Mingyu cuts in with a smirk that makes you want to smack him. “Do you mind?”

You knew you should’ve never confided in him with the feelings you harbored for Josh, but it’s too late to pout about drunken mistakes. Now he was going to try to stir shit up, and by the look Josh was giving him, it was working.

“I do.” Joshua seethes. “I need to talk to my girlfriend about something.”

It was more than likely that you had the dumbest look on your face at that moment. You can’t seem to hear anything other than the loud thrumming of your heart. It’s fluttering so hard that you feel like it might fly out of your chest at any moment.

You’ve known Mingyu long enough to know what he’s thinking. Despite the fact that Josh probably couldn’t beat him in a fight, you know the look he’s giving Mingyu had him feeling a bit intimidated. And yet, your idiot friend still sees no reason to stop his antics.

“Really?” Mingyu says through a laugh. “That’s funny because Y/N never mentioned that you two are going out. Since when have you been her boyfriend?”

“Since she took my virginity!”

Mingyu’s smirk slowly fades as he looks between you two with his mouth dropped open. You, on the other hand, feel like your eyes can’t get any wider. Heat burns your face as you realize that instead of being embarrassed or flustered, Josh is glaring at your friend with a challenging look in his eye. He makes no attempt to backtrack from his words, and it’s actually kind of embarrassing that you’ve never found him hotter than you did at this moment.

“Oh… okay.” Mingyu murmurs sheepishly as he brings his hand to rub the back of his neck. “My fault, bro. I didn’t know.”

It’s almost funny how this giant football player gets so flustered at the mention of sex when you know he sleeps with some random at least once a week. You don’t get a chance to laugh because I’m the next second, Josh’s large hand is grabbing your smaller one and guiding you away from Mingyu.

The walk back to his apartment is silent and a bit tense, but you two don’t make a move to let go of each other’s hand.

Once you two are inside his room, Josh finally releases your hand and turns his shining eyes on you. There’s a thick tension between you two, but oddly enough, you don’t mind it. You usually never mind anything when it comes to Joshua Hong.

“So, when were you planning on telling me that we’ve been dating this entire time?” You wonder with a slight tilt of your head.

“I…” Josh feels his bravado from before slip away. “I didn’t plan to tell you about my feelings this way.”

He takes a deep breath and soldiers through the nerves eating away at him. “I like you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever liked anyone. It was stupid of me to try and deny it this entire time.”

It’s hard not to feel like you’re in the middle of a beautiful dream. To see Josh’s sparkling eyes looking at you with unadulterated affection makes the carnal heat in your mind snap. You grab the front of his shirt and pull him against you to press your lips against his.

The familiarity of your sweet lips on his puts Josh at ease. His movements are eager and tender, tongue grazing past your lips. Hearing you whimper makes him feel dazed and drunk.

When your hands brush against his growing bulge, Josh exhales shakily. Of course he has to give in to your unspoken request and starts to take off his clothes. It’s like second nature by this point, and before you know it, he has you spread out on his bed with his tongue shoved inside your hot cunt.

“I’ll never get tired of tasting this sweet pussy.” Josh groans, licking and sucking at your puffy clit.

Your nails graze his scalp as you shove his face deeper into your dripping cunt, desperate for release. “Feels so good, baby.”

The way you’re clenching around his tongue makes him smirk. You feel tight even on his tongue, and he can’t wait to feel you around his dick.

“You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” Josh asks with an impossibly wide smirk as your cunt sporadically clenches around his tongue. He spits on your cunt before lapping at it again, loving the loud moans you let out.

He doesn’t stop his movements until you come on his tongue. Like a starved man, he laps up every last drop of your release. Josh sits up, the remnants of your arousal covering his chin. The sight is so hot that you push him on his back and climb on top of him. You grip his cock before fully sinking down on it with a guttural moan.

“Fuck.” Josh whimpers.

You start to bounce on top of him, moaning wantonly as you feel the tip hit a spot inside you that has you seeing stars. Joshua grips your lower back and rolls you into him to help you ride his cock. His teeth gently graze one of your nipples before he takes it in his mouth. The way he licks and nips at it makes your cunt clench down on his aching cock tighter. He loves how you’re squeezing him.

“Fucking love your cock!” You moan as you start to roughly buck your hips into his.

Joshua releases your nipple with a pop and focuses on making you come again. He angles his hips just right so the fat tip of his dick slams against your cervix as he starts to fuck up into you. The action is repeated until you’re creaming around his cock. That’s all it takes for him to shoot ropes and ropes of hot cum inside your sensitive cunt.

“I’ll never get enough of you.” He says as he gently pants into your neck.

You smirk at him, as his dick twitches inside you. “Prove it.”

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo