#I’m not even done writing it yet it has been a challenge at times but I sure do want to complete it

[apollo-just-ice]

Love that I had the thought “hmm well some of this stuff in my fic might not be completely accurate :/“

But then I reminded myself it’s like a totally self indulgent written for *me* thing,,, like yeah! It doesn’t have to be perfect, I am writing what makes my heart happy! That is all that should matter really!! And so now I feel okay, honestly. Good job, me.

That rly is an important thing to remember when creating things, is that foremost it should be making you happy, no matter inaccuracies or popularity or anything else

Also an essay of my thoughts about writing a pmd fic below in the tags hahah oops:

[zaczenemiji]

Hi I hope you are having a lovely day my dear ♥. I was wondering if you could do a Kenji Sato x reader where the reader is an assistant manager to him and one day he like acts arrogantly towards her during one of his interviews when he sees a pretty journalist amongst the crowed of ppl interviewing him and he says some hurtful things to reader and collectively ignoring her and instead choosing to focus on the journalists girl. Ever since that day reader has been silent around Sato and he thought he didn't care but it bothered him because even though she is usually quite, these days she is *too* quite and then there is like a mini celebration for like a baseball game win and reader goes with a guy who is like an athlete but is not as famous as Sato. So the kicker is reader is absolutely DROP DEAD GORGEOUS and ppl at the party even think she is a model. So Sato get jealous and he acts all possessive and protective of her , while she is still angry at him but eventually he makes it up to her over time. If you have anything else to add please do.

Shattered Pride

Kenji Sato x AssistantManager!Reader

Word Count: 1,873

Genre/Warnings: Character Development, Eventual Romance, Forgiveness, Jealousy, Regret, Redemption

Author’s Note: The idea behind this was just fantastic! Thank you so much for the request, writing this was my honor.

MASTERLIST

Being Kenji Sato’s assistant manager is not an easy task. I repeat: Not. An. Easy. Task. Throughout his baseball career, he has had several assistants who quit as soon as they were hired because, for one thing, Kenji is stubborn.

Ghosted interviews, off-topic answers, and insults to other players were just some of the many things about him that gave you a headache.

You remember being referred to him by his last assistant saying that it was a high-paying job. However, you were skeptical at how quickly and willing they were to give off their job to another person.

You understood why the first time you met him. After the meeting, you asked him, “Is there anything else you need from me today?”

In response, he gave an irritated sigh. “If I needed something, I would have asked.”

Thankfully, you were more on the nonchalant scale, and how people respond to you didn’t bother you much. You were here to do your job—and excellently at that, not exactly to be friends with an arrogant baseball star.

Kenji’s behavior was… challenging, that’s the best word for it. He barked orders, rarely said thank you, and seemed to take your presence for granted. But in conditions like these, you thrive the most; you succeed where others have failed.

Today was a usual day with the usual crowd of journalists and fans gathering in the conference room. You stood by his side, ensuring everything was in order for yet another post-game interview.

It was going all smooth and well when Kenji suddenly paused mid-sentence. It was a very short pause that wouldn’t be noticeable to others but you, with all the time you spent as his assistant, noticed it.

Your eyes looked in the direction he kept glancing at. A girl, of course, strikingly beautiful with long sleek back hair that cascaded down in soft waves.

When it was her turn to ask, Kenji leaned forward to give her a dazzling smile. “Why don’t you ask me a question?” he said, ignoring the list of pre-approved questions you handed him before the interview started.

Kenji was holding court with this journalist longer than he should. You noticed that the others in line were starting to murmur in annoyance.

You stepped forward, maintaining your professional demeanor. “Excuse me, Mr. Sato, but we need to move on,” you said. “Other journalists are waiting for their turn.”

“I’m not done here,” he said arrogantly, not bothering to look your way.

You took a deep breath, wanting to handle this situation diplomatically. “I understand,” you said. “But we’ve exceeded the time limit, and it’s only fair to give everyone a chance.”

Whichever agency’s plan was it to send her here to get ahead of other journalists, it’s working. She gave you a polite smile, clearly enjoying the extra attention.

Kenji frowned and turned to you. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something important?” He asked. “If you can’t manage your job properly, maybe you should reconsider.”

Your eyes widened. You could feel others’ on you, their stares almost cutting through your professional facade.

Swallowing your pride, you nodded and stepped back, keeping your expression neutral. But as neutral as you looked, deep down you felt a mix of anger and humiliation.

From that day on, you remained silent around Kenji, only speaking when necessary. You remained professional though, and you made sure that your job was not compromised.

During meetings, you no longer offered insights unless directly asked. When you did speak, your tone was strictly professional. Well, it has always been, but the warmth that characterized your interactions was now gone.

Like that one time during a team strategy meeting. Kenji asked for input on a new play. The room fell silent as everyone waited for your usual insightful suggestions, but you simply looked down at your notes, saying nothing.

The coach glanced at you, surprised. "Any thoughts, (y/n)?" You shook your head. "No, Coach. Nothing to add."

At first, Kenji was oblivious to all of this. He was absorbed in his own world and the adulation of his fans, as always. But as the days turned into weeks, your silence grew too loud to ignore that even he finally noticed it.

A month later, the team planned on celebrating a recent major win. This time, they have decided to invite other athletes as guests of honor. The organizers wanted to have a mix of established stars and up-and-coming talents from the sports world.

You decided to take this as an opportunity to have yourself pampered. You have been working hard, after all. Despite the obvious tension between you and Kenji, you were still able to do your job well.

That’s why at the party, you were stunning. Drop dead gorgeous, as the team said. Though the lights were dim, it seemed as if a spotlight was following you as everyone you passed by turned their heads to look.

You decided to settle by the bar for drinks. “Hey there,” came a familiar voice. You turned to see Jake approaching. He was one of the promising young athletes and a rising star in the sports world who was invited to this party.

He plays as a forward for a popular soccer team and has recently garnered attention for his impressive performance in the league. This wasn’t the first time you met as Jake and Kenji ran into each other a couple times before at different events.

He leaned against the bar, signaling the bartender for a drink. “It’s nice to see you again and this time, enjoying yourself,” he said. “You looked like you needed a break at the last event we were at.”

You chuckled softly, appreciating his observation. "Yeah, it's been a bit hectic lately."

Jake's drink arrived, and he took a sip, his eyes studying you with genuine interest. “Well, you look incredible tonight,” he said. “Have you been hearing what the others are saying?”

Jake turned to glance at the crowd, then back at you. “They were all asking if you were a model or something,” he said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think the same.”

“Thanks, Jake,” you replied, smiling. “You clean up pretty well yourself."

He laughed, a warm, infectious sound that put you at ease. "So, how's work been treating you? Still managing the chaos that is Kenji Sato?"

You hesitated, the memory of Kenji's recent behavior still fresh. "It's been… challenging," you admitted. "But I manage."

Jake's expression softened with understanding. "I can imagine. He's got a reputation for being difficult."

Unbeknownst to both of you, the baseball star you were talking about has finally arrived. His presence commanded attention as he navigated through the crowd, exchanging greetings and handshakes.

As he made his way deeper into the club, his eyes caught sight of you. At that moment he froze. Or was it time that froze? He didn’t know. All he was sure of was that for a little while, he couldn’t breathe.

You were stunning. Your outfit, a sleek, form-fitting dress that accentuated your every curve, made you look like you had just stepped off a runway. Your hair was styled to perfection, your makeup highlighting your natural beauty.

Suddenly, he noticed the man you were talking to, Jake. “That rookie soccer player,” he thought. Gosh, you deserved so much better. At that moment, with firm resolve, he declared upon himself that he would work to be the better that you deserved.

Kenjl's jaw clenched as his own possessive instincts flared up, a mix of jealousy and protectiveness surging through him. He made his way over to you, his eyes never leaving your form.

On your end, you noticed the crowd parted slightly, and you saw Kenji making his way towards you.

Turning slightly, you met Kenji’s gaze with a cool, indifferent look. "Kenji," you acknowledged, your tone polite but distant.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked, his voice tight with barely restrained emotion.

Jake looked at you, his gaze asking if you were fine with it. You smiled at him, a genuine and warm expression, something you haven’t given Kenji in a while. “I’ll go on ahead,” you told Jake. “See you around.”

Kenji led you away from the crowd, finding a quieter corner of the club. As soon as you were out of earshot, he turned to you, his eyes dark with jealousy.

"Why didn't you come with me?" Kenji asked, his frustration evident.

You scoffed. “First of all, you didn’t ask me to.” You crossed your arms, fixing him with a hard stare. "And you made it very clear where I stand with you. Or rather, where I don't."

He winced, the memory of his hurtful words coming back to haunt him. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now. "I was wrong. I was an idiot."

You remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

“I've been a jerk, and I know it,” he continued. “I was arrogant, dismissive, and I took you for granted.”

You watch him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. Yet you looked away, the hurt still fresh. "You hurt me, Kenji,” you said. “You made me feel worthless and unimportant."

Kenji steps closer, his voice filled with regret. “I know, I'm so sorry. I was so focused on myself, on my career, that I didn't see how much I was hurting you. Your silence has been killing me. I miss your insights, your presence.”

He paused for a while before continuing. “I miss you.” He reaches out, gently taking your hand.

“You're more than just my assistant,” he said. “You're the reason I can do what I do. You make everything better, and I've been too blind to see it. Please, give me a chance to make it right. I want to earn back your trust.”

You met his gaze, searching for any sign of insincerity. All you saw was genuine regret and a longing to make things right. "This isn't something that can be fixed overnight, Kenji."

"I know," he said quickly. "I'll do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes. I just... I can't lose you."

You took a deep breath, the weight of his words sinking in. "We'll see," you said. "But it won't be easy."

He nodded, relief flooding his features. "I understand,” he said. “Thank you, (y/n)—for giving me a chance.”

As you walked back to the party, Kenji stayed close by your side, protective and possessive. arm subtly wrapped around your waist, a clear signal to everyone around that you were with him.

As the night came to an end, Kenji offered to drive you home. To which, you agreed. The drive home was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything else, it was rather hopeful.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day, Kenji found you alone in the office. “Hey," he said softly, "I was thinking we could grab dinner. Just the two of us."

You looked up, surprised. "Dinner?"

He nodded, a hopeful smile on his face. "Yeah. To thank you for everything. And to make up for being such an idiot."

You smiled at him for a moment before nodding. "Okay. Dinner sounds nice."

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie

[mercy-burning]

A Study in Anchored Souls

Pairing: ghost!Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: In which the ghost of Spencer Reid discovers that in order to unveil his unfinished business and finally lay at rest, he must somehow enlist the help of the woman who now inhabits his apartment. Category: MATURE (18+) Content: Strong language, mention of weed, ghost shenanigans (?), female masturbation, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), brief handjob, unprotected p in v sex, Spencer is invisible for all of that LMAO Word Count: 11.8k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: God, I love ghost smut. That was a goddamn blast to write! Like you don't even know how giddy it made me putting these words to the keys. I even put in extra effort and made a little photo banner, which I’ve never done for a one shot before, and I’m kinda obsessed with it ngl 😂 I hope you love this one as much as I do! <3 Written for @imagining-in-the-margins Autumn Air writing challenge!

———

ACT I: Girls' Night

Spencer Reid always knew he would die.

It was a cold, hard fact of life that at one point, everyone would die. It was unsure when or how, but it happened. There was no escaping it. That thought alone was enough to squander most of his anxieties about death— even after a few near-death experiences and the constant danger his line of work tended to throw at him throughout his lifetime.

Still, the one thing he couldn't stand to think about was the "after". He wanted truly to believe that what happened after death was just nothingness, but after his encounter with Tobias, it stirred up all sorts of questions and unexplainable possibilities that were just too vast for even his brain to try and comprehend.

Then, of course, there was the fact that he was currently standing in his old apartment, watching somebody else live her life, completely invisible to her. He tried talking to her, too, but nothing. It was like he wasn't even there.

But why? It's not like he had unfinished business or anything. The unsub who shot him was shot down immediately afterwards. He watched him die before passing out himself. Why was he "awake" now, nearly 5 months after the fact, and not when his friends were grieving him? Where were his friends, and why has the afterlife chosen to tie Spencer to a place rather than the people that knew and loved him?

Logically it seemed reasonable but really, he just missed his friends. He missed his life.

He hated the afterlife, he decided then. There was no reason he needed to keep doing this when he couldn't even leave the confines of the apartment. He couldn't walk through walls or touch anything or sit down on the woman's gross floral couch. If he wanted to enter another room, the door needed to be opened, otherwise he was stuck right there in the living room, the kitchen, and the open dining space that connected the two. If he was allowed to live his afterlife with his mom, or playing Chess with Gideon, or travelling the world, free to go anywhere and see anything without hardship, it might have been different.

But no. He was stuck watching this woman struggle to move furniture by herself.

He didn't know her. Had never seen her before. She wasn't a student of his or a victim he'd saved or even a fling. She was a complete stranger. A complete stranger who unfortunately had terrible taste in decor and an even more unfortunately beautiful face.

Her name was Y/N. From what he could gather, she didn't have any family, at least not nearby. Her two best friends were the only other people in her circle that he'd seen in the apartment, and when they were all together it was... interesting. There was a lot of loud laughter and wine, and oh God, the sex talk...

It felt intrusive, but he couldn't leave. He could migrate to another room, maybe, but his ears still worked, even a little too well. His eyes, too, seemed to be as sharp as ever, any imperfections to his vision completely mended. He was simply over aware of everything, and yet hollow at the same time, and he hated everything about it.

But what could he do? He couldn't even touch anything or communicate to anyone, so how could he possibly figure out what was keeping him here and how he could get out of it? Did his new roommate hold some sort of knowledge or ability to help him solve this mystery, or was he destined to watch her live out her life in this place that he once called "home"? Was there any connection between them at all?

He didn't know.

Usually he liked puzzles, but this one was rather annoying.

He just wanted to rest.

Y/N had been moved in for just over a month (yes, there was a whole month of just standing there learning everything about a stranger because there was simply nothing else for Spencer to do) when finally, there was a small glimmer of hope.

Heavy on the small.

It was Girls' Night. Friday. It always consisted of too much wine and movies and snacks and discussions about whatever they were reading or watching. Despite the differences in the routine, the camaraderie made Spencer miss his friends. He wondered what they were all up to. Maybe, if this all worked out, he could actually find out.

But for now, he had to focus on the baby steps.

When the girls showed up with a Ouija board, he couldn't help the incredulous laughter that escaped him.

Y/N, it seemed, felt the same disbelief. "You guys, what the fuck is that?"

"What does it look like?" the first friend, Maya, retorted.

The other, Robin, added, "You were the one that said you felt like you weren't tooootally aloooone in this apartment..."

Her haunting inflection elicited a backhanded thump to the arm, Y/N groaning as she closed the door behind her. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I would want to know what or who it is! Besides, I'm probably just paranoid. It's just being in a new place and the anxieties that come with it, that's all. You guys are insane."

"Only one way to find out!"

Was Spencer really going to entertain this? A goddamn Ouija board? He enjoyed his fair share of spooky things and researching superstitions, but that was out of his realm of belief. On the other hand, one could technically consider him a ghost... He could look down and see himself, but nobody else could see or hear him... Y/N had obviously voiced a concern for feeling a presence to her friends, but how much of that feeling was accurate and how much of it was, in fact, 'new home anxieties'?

As the girls unboxed the board and set up their things, Spencer sighed, mumbling to himself, "Only one way to find out..."

Maya closed the curtains and turned all the lights off, meanwhile Y/N and Robin were collecting and lighting any candle they could find. They cleared off the low coffee table in front of the couch where the girls sat and set everything up there, Spencer taking a seat on the floor opposite the group. It was then that Y/N said something that made him laugh.

"Wait, shouldn't we give the couch to the ghost?"

"What?"

"Well, what if it's an angry ghost? And then we make it sit on the floor, and it decides to exact vengeance on us? Maybe we should... I don't know, be more hospitable?"

"Hmmm, maybe you're right," Robin said, standing up. "Do you hear that, Ghost? We're only being nice to you, so please don't kill us, m'kay?"

Spencer sighed. Little did they know, he couldn't actually sit on the couch. Or a chair. Or anything that wasn't the floor. It was like the ground was the only physical thing he was anchored to. Still, the girls had no way of knowing that, so they shuffled their way to the other end of the table, flipping the Ouija board so it would face the other way. Spencer got up and moved then. He'd have to stand uncomfortably in the small gap between the table and the couch, bending down at the waist to use the board, provided he could even touch it.

He had no idea how this was going to work, if at all.

It was all starting to sound and feel absolutely ridiculous.

The girls each put a finger on the planchette, nervous laughter emanating from them, and Spencer gave one last deep breath before reaching out to touch it himself, anticipating the moment of truth.

His hand hovered over the board, feeling a block just before he would make any contact. He couldn't touch it. His hand wouldn't even go through. He retreated and huffed, wondering if there was something he could do to communicate with them otherwise. He tried to blow out one of the candles, but with no luck. He could feel his breath against his own skin (could you even call it that at this stage?), but the objects in front of him were completely oblivious to his presence.

He was about to give up and call it a night, leaving the girls to have their fun, but then one of them gasped.

"Wait, don't we have to use two fingers? Is that how it works?"

"Shit, I think you're right."

They adjusted their positions and Spencer sighed, but indulged them just in case.

His hand lowered again, middle and pointer fingers approaching the planchette in anticipation. He half-expected there to be resistance again, but this time, a cool rush of wind gusted up in between them as his fingers made contact with the wood.

"Holy shit!" all four of them exclaimed in unison.

"Did you feel that?" Maya squealed excitedly. "Wicked..."

"No, not wicked!" Y/N whined. "We should stop!"

"Really? You know for sure now that there's a ghost living in your apartment, and you're just not going to ask it questions to make sure it's not harmful? Be smart about this, bitch," Robin countered playfully.

Spencer wanted to cut to the chase. He moved his hand, spelling out a word, and the girls collectively gasped before reciting each letter out loud hesitantly, like they couldn't believe what was happening.

"H-A-R-M-L-E-S-S"

"Oh my God! You have a Casper!"

Y/N shook her head furiously. "You guys, stop fucking with me, I mean it. This isn't funny."

"I didn't move it!" said Robin.

"Me either," said Maya. "Besides, you felt that wind right? How could either of us have done that?"

"I don't know, because you're a fucking wizard or something! Cut it out!"

"Hey, if you didn't want to do it that badly, you would have taken your hand off the planchette... Hey, Ghost, have you ever seen Y/N naked?"

"Robin!"

Maya cackled and Y/N went pale. If he wasn't already dead, Spencer would have probably gone pale as well.

The truth was, he had. Seen her naked, that is.

He wasn't proud of it. It happened by total accident. Sort of. He was following her around the apartment all day because he was bored, and he'd ended up locked in her bedroom with her. Either he was truly horrible at reading people (which seemed impossible considering his profession) or she had just gotten a random spurt of excitement, because the moment her door closed, she whipped her shirt off, exposing her bare torso to him, and he couldn't move. He was frozen, completely shocked at the sight before him. She reached down to take off her pants, and he turned around then, quickly becoming aware of the situation.

She rustled behind him and he tried desperately to walk through the door. Any time he got close, the barrier would stop him. He couldn't do anything but stand in the corner and pray to whatever that she was only changing.

She was, in fact, not changing.

Spencer swore in that moment at the table that he could still hear the low hum of her vibrator and every single sound that came from her body and mouth that night, and he was absolutely mortified.

He'd only dared to glance back when he heard the end, her breathing slow and the humming gone. It was silent for a while before he turned around entirely, only to find her asleep, sprawled completely bare over the covers. He wished he could have draped a blanket over her, but his hands were more or less tied.

Thankfully she was only asleep for about a half hour before she forced herself awake to clean up and actually go to bed.

Spencer never followed her around the apartment ever again. Just in case.

"Don't answer that, Ghost," Y/N rushed, "Robin's just fucking around. We promise to ask you serious questions from here on out."

Maya faked a snore. "Come on, Y/N, this is supposed to be fun. The ghost is harmless."

"No, the ghost said it was harmless. Doesn't mean it is."

Spencer thought for a moment as the girls went back and forth, and then he spelled out another word— or an acronym, rather.

"It's moving again!" Robin gasped, spelling out the letters.

"F-B-I"

"Holy shit did you work for the FBI, Ghost?" Maya inquired.

Spencer moved the planchette to the "YES" at the top of the board.

"Maybe... Maybe we should stop calling them Ghost..." Y/N took a shaky breath and closed her eyes for a brief moment before nodding. "Ummm... Spirit Who Resides Here..." Robin and Maya snorted. "What is your name?"

Spencer wished he could tell her she didn't need to be formal, but it was amusing watching her do it anyway. He spelled out his name, first and last, and the girls made a collective hum of acceptance. A normal name and not something concerning.

"We should Google him," Robin said matter-of-factly.

Maya hummed in agreement, but Y/N swallowed and asked another question. "Spencer, you're not... Going to hurt me, are you?"

He moved the planchette to "NO," and watched the relief take over her body, relaxing her muscles and her posture for just a brief moment. He could tell she was still wary, but it was a step in the right direction.

"See? Told you he was harmless."

"He still could be lying," Y/N mumbled. Then she sat up straight. "Not that I don't believe you, Spencer. I'm sorry. You just have to understand that I'm a woman living alone, and the thought of a man I can't see haunting my apartment is just... It's extremely terrifying."

He felt bad for her. As annoying as his situation was, he couldn't imagine being in hers. He almost wished he hadn't entertained the Ouija board at all and put her worries to rest, but since it was too late, all he could do was try and reassure her that he wasn't a threat.

His fingers moved again.

"U-N-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D"

And then a pause, before: "S-O-R-R-Y"

Y/N's eyes dropped, and her friends made a collective "Awwwww," before a knock sounded at the door, jolting them all to move away from the Ouija board.

Spencer was knocked backwards, and he expected his newfound sense of touch to disappear once the connection had broken, but to his surprise, he found himself safely seated on the couch. His hands reached over the fabric, testing, and despite his distaste for the floral pattern on it, the cushions were suddenly the greatest thing he'd ever touched. He was grateful for this couch. And for the Ouija board, and for Y/N and her eccentric friends.

Speaking of which, Robin yelled out, "Pizza's here!" and got up with Maya to abandon the board. Pizza apparently seemed more interesting than a ghost, but for two women who Spencer could now tell (no thanks to his upgraded sense of smell) were a little high, that seemed reasonable.

As her friends happily greeted the pizza delivery man, Y/N reached out to touch the planchette again, just for a moment, and gently whispered, "Thank you, Spencer."

He returned it with an earnest, "You're welcome," but he wasn't sure if she'd hear or not. She looked around the area for a few seconds before turning around, and it wasn't clear whether she had.

But she seemed relaxed now, and that was a start.

As the girls sat at the dining table and ate pizza, Spencer tested out his new senses just a few steps away. He found himself thankful to be in a familiar place, even if the decor was different. The walls were the same and the bookshelves still stood, now filled with bright Romance novels and trinkets and photos that laid out Y/N's personality quite perfectly. He smiled, running his fingers along the spines of the books, missing the feeling even if they weren't his own.

He wanted to see if he could read one, just for the sake of feeling a book in his hands again, but he figured he'd wait until Maya and Robin were gone and Y/N was asleep.

Until then, he continued to touch things without making them move, not wanting to raise anyone's eyebrows.

And then, a gasp sounded from the dining table.

"I found him! I have his obituary right here!"

"Holy shit, let me see!"

Spencer made his way to the table to observe.

The girls passed around Maya's phone, looking at his obituary photo. Robin made a low whistle, then called out into the air on her left. He was standing to her right, unable to help the dry laughter that escaped him at the irony of the situation.

"Spencer, you were hot!"

Maya shook her head and sighed. "Yeah. What a damn shame. Sorry, man."

Robin seemed more amused than anything, turning to Y/N, who was reading through the obituary. "Hey, at least you can rest easy knowing you've got a hot FBI ghost watching over you."

"Yeah, but... Why? Do you think he lived here? In this apartment?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should ask him."

Y/N sighed, handing Maya her phone back. "I'm sure he has more exciting ghost stuff to do on a Friday night than entertain us three. All I know is he promised not to hurt me, so I don't really care if he stays."

He was glad for her ease of anxiety, but he certainly cared if he stayed. However, she sounded exhausted, and it was fair. Finding out your new apartment was haunted by a ghost (even a harmless one) sounded like a reasonably stressful situation. He wanted desperately to figure out how to finally move on, but for now he could accept the simple fact that he could actually touch things now, and let Y/N rest easy.

Even if he couldn't yet.

ACT II: X's and Oh's

Every time she came home, Y/N would greet Spencer kindly. Probably out of precaution (you know, just in case he really was lying about being harmless), but brightly all the same.

"Spencer, I'm home! I... I don't know if you're haunting me or the apartment, but... I hope you had a good day, just in case it's me."

He smiled, wishing he could greet her back.

Eventually, he found small ways to do it.

He fogged up a spot on her bathroom mirror, that way the next time she showered before bed, the heat would reveal a message on the glass: "Good night. —S.R."

Y/N talked to him that night, dressed in her pajamas and walking around the apartment like she was deciding where to talk to him. Eventually she decided on standing in her bedroom doorway.

"Spencer? You said good night so you might not even be in here, but... I guess this is me saying good night back...Thanks for being a nice ghost, I really appreciate it. If... If there's anything I can do for you, let me know, okay? Okay... Goodnight."

If only there was a way she could hear him. Communicating in mirror-notes was hardly good for anything more than a simple "good night," and despite the fact that he could touch things, he couldn't grip them, so writing on paper was out. He'd kept trying to open a door with the handle, and with no luck. It was starting to get irritating, wondering what the next step was to evolving as a ghost.

He couldn't even believe he'd thought up the phrase. Ghost evolution sounded absolutely insane, but he supposed it was his current reality regardless of how it sounded...

Tonight Y/N was out rather late. For a brief moment Spencer started to worry, but then the key turned in the doorway and relief settled in when she finally stepped inside. She seemed rather tired, but greeted him with a gentle smile all the same.

"Hi, Spencer."

"Welcome home, Y/N."

She didn't hear him, obviously, but it still felt rude not to say it back. He wondered if he could try to touch her in greeting. Maybe a brief brushing of hands or a tap of acknowledgement on the shoulder. But he didn't want to scare her, so he'd have to figure that out.

Thankfully, she seemed to have felt his curiosity somehow.

Later that night, as she laid in bed, she called out, drawing his attention from the living room where he tried to open a cabinet. Still no luck there.

"Spencer? Are you there?"

He wandered over to the bedroom, glad to see she'd left the door cracked open so he could get in. He hesitated before moving, hoping she wouldn't freak out when she saw the door open.

When he did finally gather the courage to move the barrier and step inside, he heard her gasp as she sat up in bed.

"Spencer? Was that you? Um... Move the door again if it was..."

He obliged, swinging the door shut gently as he stepped inside the room. The second the door clicked, he realized his mistake.

Now he was trapped in here with her. Not that it was a bad thing necessarily, but the last time this happened, he'd accidentally intruded on a rather intimate moment. His essence warmed at the thought.

"Holy shit. Um... This is kind of weird... I've gotten your notes and talked to you through the Ouija board, but... seeing you move things in front of me is... only slightly terrifying."

Her nervous laughter endeared him but also made him want to comfort her.

He walked over to the side of the bed closest to her body, hoping she'd be willing to communicate more thoroughly somehow. The two of them together could surely come up with something.

Again, their brains seemed to be on the same wavelength.

"If I hold out my hand... Would you touch it? Just to... let me know that it's you?"

Her arm outstretched, and Spencer slowly brought his middle finger down to touch hers, ever so lightly.

The second there was contact, there was a shock. Spencer jolted and Y/N yelled and yanked her hand back, her whole body shuddering as she kicked her legs. "Oh my God, holy fuck!" And then she laughed, reaching out to search for his touch again. He felt... different somehow, but he was still invisible to her. Her fingers wiggled and Spencer helped her out, gently holding her hand to keep it steady, as if to convey, "I'm right here, and it's okay."

"Hi," she said through a smile, her breathing heavy. "It's... Nice to... finally meet you. Kind of. Kind of meet you, I mean... Not kind of nice. I'm sorry."

He rubbed his thumb gently over the top of hers in response.

"I'm still wrapping my head around this whole thing, I... I guess I just wanted some extra confirmation that you were really here. Can I ask you some questions, Spencer?"

He rubbed her thumb again, and she breathed out with a smile.

"Okay um... Maybe draw a circle on the back of my hand for yes and an X for no... That sound good?"

Spencer traced a circle against her skin, and she nodded. "Good! Okay, cool. This is cool. Um... Did you live here? In this apartment?"

A circle.

"Is... that why you're here now?"

An X, and then a question mark.

"No... You don't know why you're here then?"

A circle.

Y/N pondered for a moment. "Could there be something of yours that's holding you here? Something we have to find or a mystery we have to solve?"

Spencer drew another question mark, then sighed. As much as he liked Y/N, he was pretty sure she would not be able to answer any of those questions. But there had to be another way to... level up, so to speak. To make him visible or audible.

"I'm sorry," she said somberly. "From what I've read, you seem like you were a good person. I hope you figure it out, whatever it is. And... I meant it. If there's anything I can do to help you, I will."

He drew a circle on her skin, but kept going around a few times, his symbol of appreciation.

Y/N warmed at the sentiment, smiling and hanging her head to look down at the hand he was holding. He didn't know it, but her skin was tingling at his invisible touch.

"Spencer... I know this is probably going to be weird... But the night I first met you, when my friends were with me... Robin asked you if... you'd uh... If you'd seen me..."

She wouldn't look up, like she was afraid to look at him even though she still couldn't see him. She didn't finish her sentence, seeming to be embarrassed about the punchline, but Spencer didn't need it. He knew exactly what she meant. Before she had time to retreat or move on, he drew a slow circle on the back of her hand.

Her head lifted. "You did see me? Naked?"

Spencer let out a shaky breath. Hesitated. Then drew another circle, followed by S-O-R-R-Y.

"Oh, I'm not upset, I promise. You don't have to be sorry."

Something shifted in her eyes then and she paused, and Spencer realized that before when she'd asked, she wasn't embarrassed. She was simply feeling the water before diving in.

He swallowed hard.

"Did you like what you saw?"

Her voice was soft, but simultaneously hard with mischief. He looked at her then— truly looked at her with his overly-perfect Afterlife vision, and even in the dim light emanating from the open curtains and the streetlights beyond it, he could see her clear as day. Rather than the big tee-shirt she always wore to bed, tonight she was wearing something lacy and lavender.

And her door was closed. He couldn't leave this room.

Although, he had a feeling right then that it didn't matter anymore. Because his hand tightened over hers instinctively and he felt himself get hard beneath the suit pants he'd been buried in.

That's new, he thought through a sigh of excitement, quickly recalling that night he'd seen her. And heard her. Feeling was growing in his joints, and he found himself flexing his hands with a new strength he hadn't felt since being alive.

"Fuck," he hissed, shaking his head in disbelief.

I think she may be slowly bringing me back to life.

He drew a slow, sensual circle on the back of her hand, and she laughed through a grin. "I was hoping you'd say that. I was also hoping that maybe we could try something a little... unconventional. The truth is, I've always hated living alone. It's too lonely, and I hate it... Now that I have you to keep me company, though... It's not nearly as bad."

She shifted her fingers, grabbing his hand and slowly bringing it to her face. Spencer caressed her as he came closer, his knees now touching the edge of her mattress. She closed her eyes and reveled in his touch, goosebumps forming along her skin.

"Will you touch me, Spencer?"

His name falling suggestively from her lips was quite possibly the greatest thing he'd ever experienced, among life and death. The afterlife. Whatever. None of it mattered, nothing mattered right then except for Y/N and her needs.

He drew a circle on her cheek and she laughed, the sound dissolving into a rather wanton sigh when he traced his middle finger down her jaw and over her throat. Just the gentlest of touches, barely even a touch at all.

"You want this just as bad as I do, don't you?" she asked, lolling her head to the side as his finger traced her collarbone and then her shoulder.

"I do." He focused on the way her chest heaved, slowly up and down as she melted into his touch, and then traced the strap of her nightgown until he reached the front, just at the curve of her breasts.

Y/N arched her back and pulled the covers away from her body, revealing herself to him in full as she got comfortable. She scooted and leaned back against the headboard, pulling Spencer along the side of the bed. He gladly followed.

"I give you permission to touch me in any way you see fit, okay? I... I want you to do whatever feels good to you. How does that sound?"

At the invitation, he quickly let his mind wander to extremely filthy places and wondered if he had the ability to taste again...

The thought alone made him twitch beneath his pants, and suddenly there was no going back.

He let out a long breath and touched the bottom hem of her nightgown. It was already short to begin with, but since she'd moved around in bed and her feet were flat, knees pointed upward, the fabric rode up to the very tops of her thighs. He drew another continuous circle right there, just below where it ended, and Y/N instinctively started to spread her knees apart.

Spencer stopped her, gripping one knee and spelling out W-A-I-T before slipping his shoes and jacket off. She arched an eyebrow, confused at first, but then looked down to the floor when she heard his shoes being kicked back and his clothing falling there.

And then, when he was ready, she looked back to the bed in front of her as Spencer climbed and knelt, positioning himself in front of her. Her eyes watched the mattress move, and a flicker of excitement danced over her features, amusing him.

He placed his hands on her knees, and even though she'd given him permission, he asked anyway, drawing a question mark against her skin.

She nodded. "Please."

Slowly, his hands pulled her legs apart. He drew it out as long as he possibly could, curious to know how long he could test her anticipation threshold. He still planned to give her everything she wanted, of course, but there was something oddly erotic about being touched by somebody you couldn't see that she was obviously keen to explore. So he would take his time until she begged him otherwise.

Sure enough, her stare was laser-focused on her body as he moved it to his liking, her breath hitching once her legs were far enough apart for him to realize she wasn't wearing anything underneath her nightgown and he paused. Already she was glistening with arousal, a sight that nearly made Spencer go completely slack.

"How long have you wanted this..." he wondered aloud, overwhelmed and in awe as his hands traveled firmly down her inner thighs. She squirmed under his bold touch, and leaned her head back against the headboard with a soft thud.

"Please," she whimpered, her hands reaching out to grip whatever bunched up fabric she could find on the bed.

He had planned to test the waters a little longer, ever so the scientist at heart, but figured that was as good of a plea as any to give in and finally give her what she wanted.

And so, Spencer ran a gentle, steady hand down through her heat, dragging his middle finger along the seam until he barely entered her, then came back up.

The long, desperate moan that Y/N drew out was like Heaven to his ears, and he'd never been more grateful for his heightened senses than in that moment. Every breath she took, every gloriously wet sound her body made as he explored her, every rustle of her hands through the sheets... All of it was sharp and crisp, and no other symphony had ever sounded so beautiful.

He wanted more of it.

One finger became two, and Spencer looked up to watch her face as he fingered her slowly. Parted lips and focused eyes fighting to stay open despite the pleasure she was feeling made for quite the perfect view, he almost didn't want to look away. But there was so much to beauty see between her soft facial features and the curves of her body and the obvious arousing sight below him. It was overwhelming how hot he felt in that moment, he could have sworn he was glowing.

His pace quickened, and Y/N had finally given into the temptation to close her yes, her head falling back again as she rolled her hips. He was getting impatient now.

With his other hand, against the inside of her thigh, Spencer spelled out "T-A-S-T-E-?"

"Oh, God, please. Yes."

Still hesitant to scare her even though his fingers were already deep inside her, rather than diving in as he so desperately wanted to, he slowly brought his head down to meet the area between her legs. He turned to press his cheek to the soft flesh of her thigh, and she gasped, the sound fading to a low laugh as she took in the feeling of his mouth and his hair caressing her skin. He kissed her then, tentatively darting his tongue out to taste her and sighing with relief once he realized he could actually taste again. Once he had that revelation, there was no going back. He was a man starved, his kisses growing more hungry as they traveled up and up and up...

Once his tongue made curious contact with the hood of her clit, Y/N gasped again, clutching her bed sheets and rolling her hips up to meet him. Spencer groaned, and a selfish part of him wished she could hear it. He wanted her to know just how crazy she was driving him, how much he wanted her. She could certainly feel it, her reaction to the vibrations causing her muscles to flex and her toes to curl, and he decided then that it would have to do. He was just going to have to make her feel his desire so deeply that it rattled in her bones and lingered there for the rest of eternity. He wanted to ruin everybody else for her, to stay with her until the end of time.

She reached and felt around for his head, fingers threading through invisible curls as she cried out.

"Spencer, you're so— so good..."

He hummed his approval at the praise and continued to work her, adding a third finger and sucking on her clit to feel her fingers tugging at his scalp. The sensation alone had him nearly lightheaded, and he wanted to stay there forever, lost in her taste and her touch and her noises.

God, her noises...

She sighed and whined, and stretched and squelched around his fingers, and he was convinced that had he not already been dead, he would have begged whoever was listening to keep him alive just to experience her forever.

The second she struggled to keep her legs open, trapping his head between them, he knew she was quickly approaching her orgasm, and he couldn't wait. He'd heard her climax before, but being right there as it was happening felt like a privilege he would always be grateful for. He wanted to replicate everything he'd heard that night and get to feel it, too— get to be the one to make her feel that way.

"Fuck, don't stop, I'm s— so close..."

Spencer groaned into her as if to say, "I know, I can feel you." Oh, how he wished he could talk her through it, to tease her with his words... Alas, he had no choice but to encourage her with his actions, so he used his free hand to search for one of hers. She gave up her hand to lace their fingers together, and his thumb continued to draw mindless circles into her skin as she clenched and released, over and over again until she was coming.

"Spencer!" she cried to the air, over and over again as if she could will him into existence again. It was a desperate plea, a manifestation, and the both of them secretly hoped that it would work.

She wanted to see him

He wanted her to see him, too.

He felt her climax subside, and then he slowly eased his fingers out of her and trailed his tongue down to keep tasting. A part of him was scared to realize he might not actually be visible like he hoped, but he pushed the potential disappointment aside and luxuriated in the way she tasted. He delved in and gripped the underside of her thighs to keep them steady, and with a delighted groan as he pushed his tongue inside, Y/N gasped.

"Fuck, I can hear you..."

The words excited him greatly.

"Thank God."

Spencer kissed her, tasted her until she was writhing and begging him to stop.

"Please, Spencer, kiss me."

He pulled away and looked up at her, smiling even though she still couldn't see him. "I am kissing you," he replied, pressing his lips to her thigh.

"You know what I mean. Come here..."

He laughed and obliged, kissing his way up her legs and crawling up her body. He slowly dragged his hands up her stomach, bunching up her nightgown and sliding it up her body the farther he got. Her eyes watched in allure as the fabric rode up and up and up, seemingly on its own. But she knew better, she knew who was undressing her and worshipping her, and it made her squirm.

She lifted her arms over her head and let him take the clothing off, revealing her chest to the chilly air. She watched as the fabric flew to the ground, and then felt Spencer's hands return to her skin, gentle fingers raising goosebumps all over. Her nipples pinched and hardened the closer he got to them, and soon enough he was palming her breasts as he pressed his forehead to hers, wedging his body between her legs.

"Kiss me," she breathed, feeling his nose touch hers. His breath was hot against her own, and her eyes fluttered shut. "Please..."

"Anything for you, sweet girl..."

She sighed as his mouth finally collided with her own, the heady and prominent taste of her arousal growing stronger the deeper he kissed her. Their bodies couldn't stop moving, wandering hands and urgent hips, and with his newfound ability to speak to her, Spencer spoke in gentle praises. He sighed out her name reverently, telling her how good and sweet and perfect she was, and she returned every word with a whimper, in awe that he was really there. He was becoming more and more present, and she couldn't get enough.

"I want to feel you," she said against his lips, dragging her hand down his invisible chest. She fingered through every button of his shirt until it was loose and open, and the cool hum of his skin as she explored his torso made her hands numb.

Spencer kissed her jaw and groaned, feeling himself throb at her words. "Let me help..."

He grabbed her hand and guided her to the bulge in his pants, even though she could have just as easily stumbled onto it herself. The intimacy of it all was almost overwhelming, so much so that when her grip tightened softly on his clothed erection, Spencer almost came undone right then and there.

"Fuck, Y/N... I'd say you're going to be the death of me, but..."

They laughed together until she kissed him again, deeply and with a sigh. "You're becoming more and more real, but... this feels like... it feels like a dream."

He understood what she meant, and it filled him with a tinge of sadness, but her hand slowly palming him was becoming harder and harder to ignore. He gripped her wrist and his breath hitched in her ear as he nipped at it.

"Trust me, sweetheart... I am very real."

She shuddered at his words and squeezed him tighter before fumbling for his belt.

"Spencer... Do you think..." Her hands successfully undid the confines of his pants and started to slide them down over his hips, trying not to mess up her words as he sucked marks into her neck. "Do you think that if you fuck me... I'll finally be able to see you?"

"Mmm, God, I hope so," he groaned earnestly, repositioning themselves so he could kick off his pants and rest her head on the pillow. She let him take the lead, her breath getting heavier with anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs and grabbed her wrist. Once again, he was guiding her hand to his cock, hard and, this time, bare. She cursed under her breath as she gripped him and he helped her languidly stroke himself in exploration. His fingers were strong over hers, and he applied just the right amount of pressure to draw out a groan from the both of them.

"Please," she sighed out desperately through shallow breaths. "Spencer, please, I need you..."

How could he resist?

He didn't even want to entertain the thought of trying.

"Then let me take care of you, sweet girl," he cooed, hiking her thighs to rest over his hips and slowly sinking into her with ease.

Once he was all the way in, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, comforting her through the low burn. He slowly rolled his hips forward as she cried out his name, her fingers coming up to grip his shoulders. "You feel that?" he whispered into her skin. "How perfectly I fit inside you? It's like you were made for me..."

"Uh-huh," she stuttered in agreement.

He stopped teasing her then, pulling back to start fucking her nice and slow as she adjusted to him. Her fingers curled and knotted into the loose material of his shirt. She would have slid it off of him, but the grip on something steady was nice as she let him focus on his ministrations. He seemed to be doing just fine with the shirt on, anyway, and it was hard to even think about anything other than how good he felt.

She wondered then, as he picked up momentum and started peppering kisses down her jawline, what she looked like to the night. If she were standing there, outside her own body, watching herself being thoroughly and beautifully wrecked by something invisible and obviously enjoying every second...

Her eyes rolled back at the image, just as Spencer started going harder. His hips snapped into hers with a strength and precision that felt like it was rattling worlds. It very well��could have been, and neither of them had any mind to care; They were so intensively intertwined with each other that it was a different world entirely.

They started to burn hot, that familiar warm chill of impending pleasure creeping up through their bodies and setting them alight. Y/N snaked her arms up to Spencer's neck and brought him down for a searing kiss as she melted into him, and he returned it with a fervor that elicited the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He felt it all the way in his bones, felt the waves of pleasure start to drag him under as she squeezed him with her limbs and started to come undone herself.

The atmosphere around them was purely electrifying, bright snaps of skin and sharp whispers of mouth combining to brew a perfect storm that nothing would ever survive. It was wild and unconstrained, glimmering and grand, and in their wake, the two entities left their desire lingering in the air for the dead of night to stew in for as long as it would allow.

Spencer collapsed on top of her with a hefty sigh, and he was grateful to be able to finally share his voice with her. The mystery and simplicity of the X's and O's were fun to indulge in at first, but now that they'd grown closer and created something beautiful and memorable together, he had to tell her exactly how he felt— no symbols, no mysteries...

He kissed her softly and pulled back to look into her eyes, dragging a thumb over her cheekbone as he told her the truth.

"You're perfect."

Her eyes went wide, welling with tears as she reached up and ran a finger softly along the bridge of his nose.

"You're beautiful."

Relief and something else—something warm—stirred in Spencer's chest at the confirmation that she could finally see him, and that she was moved by what she saw. Who she saw...

He couldn't help the smile that adorned his face, and the soft joyous laughter that escaped him as she continued to explore his features with the pads of her fingertips, like she was trying to memorize him from touch alone in case he suddenly disappeared again.

"I mean it, Spencer, you're... even more beautiful than I imagined."

"You imagined me?" he inquired rather suggestively.

With a laugh, she brought him down for a slow, searing kiss. "Duh..."

Even though they were tired, they stayed like that for hours, kissing and exploring and sighing until the sweet lull of sleep took hold and carried them through the night.

For a solid few hours until he awoke, Spencer completely forgot that he wasn't alive.

ACT III: Unfinished Business

Y/N had never done so much research in her entire life. She liked Spencer, and she was more than happy to help him out, but man... Reading dozens of articles and textbooks and blogs about the different types of spirits and how to lay them to rest was a long, exhausting road that led pretty much nowhere. There was no way to know what type of ghost Spencer was or how to help him move on, not that she could see, anyway. She didn't know if he'd age with her, or be 'undead' long enough to become vicious and bitter like a lot of the spirits she read about, and Spencer's research was just about as inconclusive as her own.

A selfish part of her hoped she'd never find out, to keep him around forever... But she also knew that wasn't fair to him. No matter how lonely she was or how much fun they had and how they enjoyed each other's company, well... The fact of the matter was, he was dead.

And he deserved to rest.

In the meantime, in the hours between headache-inducing frustration at the lack of answers, Spencer told her about his life. His friends, mostly— the best people he'd ever known. The way he described them, she had a feeling that they might hold the key to his dilemma. If not directly, perhaps there was something about him that they knew, something that might give Y/N some insight into his ghostly purpose, so to speak. Not that she couldn't ask Spencer directly, but they'd already discussed a lot of back-and-forth on enemies and people that could have wanted to harm him, all of which were surefire impossibilities. Not to mention the fact that he seemed tied to this apartment and not anything else. Maybe that didn't have anything to do with it, but neither of them knew.

It was the only other option she had.

They laid next to each other in her bed, her head laying on his chest. Her ear warmed gently, and tried as she might to hear a heartbeat, all she could hear was a faint white noise, almost like he was merely a figure of tangible energy rather than a body. She supposed that was technically what he was, but as much as she'd grown to know and like Spencer, it was hard to think of him that way. It was... sad to think of him that way.

She frowned and nestled into him, trying to push away that petulant nagging in the depths of her soul that screamed "This isn't fair!" and she told him the most difficult thing she'd ever had the courage to push past her lips.

"I think I have an idea... You can say no if you think it's too weird, but... It might help you. Maybe."

"Mmm, what's that?" he responded, curious but not audibly hopeful. It made Y/N even more sad to think he probably figured he'd never find peace.

"What if I go talk to your friends? Do you think they might know something you don't?"

There was a beat of silence before she felt his chest heave with gentle laughter. "Derek Morgan definitely wouldn't think so..."

Recalling some of the funny stories he'd told her about him, she smiled. Still, she pressed. "I mean it. What other outlets do we have? Where else is there to look? If there's anyone who knows you better than anyone else, wouldn't it be them?"

Spencer sighed, giving it a thought. His fingers raked through her hair and massaged her scalp to the point of gentle, comforting numbness, another one of those domestic moments that had her feeling absolutely conflicted.

And then, he said, "Actually... I think I know exactly who you should talk to..."

———

There was a deep chill in her bones as she approached Penelope Garcia's apartment building, but not because of the lively, rustling October wind. In fact, she wanted to throw up at the thought of having this conversation. But not because she didn't want to help Spencer. She did, more than anything.

She was just afraid of being arrested.

Spencer assured her that it would be fine and that Penelope was harmless, and while the latter she could believe, it still nerved her to wander up to a woman's door and announce that she lived in the apartment of her beloved dead co-worker and needed to help him fulfill his destiny as a spirit. It sounded like a cruel joke.

"If anyone would believe you, it would be Penelope," he'd said, comforting her with a pat on the shoulder.

Maybe it was true, but she didn't want to find out if it wasn't. It was one thing to have the door slammed in your face by a grief-stricken loved one, but a grief-stricken loved one who worked for the fucking FBI was ten times worse; There were a lot more horrifying outcomes that came with that combination.

Still, she trusted Spencer on a level she'd barely trusted anyone else, and he wasn't even alive for God's sake... So she strapped on her boots, threw on her most comfortable jacket, and braced the wind and whatever fate blew with it.

For Spencer.

"For Spencer," she muttered under her breath as she rapped on the door. Three times. Third time's the charm, three's a crowd, three clicks of the heel and you're home... Three seemed like a lucky number. Three was inviting, friendly, not intended to inflict emotional damage.

Please, God, don't let her hate me, Y/N prayed to whoever was listening. Don't let this go horribly wrong.

A bright voice was yelling beyond the door, and with every millisecond that it got louder and closer, her heart started to beat faster. Blood thrummed in her ears, and she kept repeating, "For Spencer, for Spencer, for Spencer," on a loop to remind her why she was going through all this anxiety.

The voice got closer, but still muffled, until the door swung open. Then it stopped altogether. Y/N blinked and stood there with a stiff back and sweaty palms, in front of Penelope Garcia. The woman was obviously expecting somebody else to be at the door, but she didn't look disappointed, just confused.

"Oh. You're not Luke. How can I help you?"

"Um... My name is Y/N. I... Before I tell you why I'm here, I need you to know that I'm not trying to play a trick on you, and I don't want to make you sad or upset, and if there's anything you need or want to know about me in order to trust me, then I'll gladly give you that information, but this is really important and I need you to know that I'm not crazy or harmful, I just want to help him."

Penelope's eyes went wide as she reached out and grabbed her hand. The thrumming in her ears got louder as she took a deep breath and waited for the yelling to start, her body to be thrown to the ground, or a sharp piercing sting of a backhand.

The only thing she felt, however, was a tug at her heart and the gentle dissipation of nerves as Penelope spoke one simple word.

"Spencer."

"How... How did you know?"

"Ever since he... Since he's been... I just knew something didn't feel right. Everyone told me that it was just grief, and for a while that's also what I told myself, but... That feeling was just too... Wait, who did you say you were again?"

Y/N stuttered her name and gripped Penelope's hand tighter, hoping to create some rapport. "I live in his apartment. He's been... Visiting me."

Something in her eyes softened and then saddened at the confirmation that her friend was somehow still among the living. "A visitor in his own home... Poor Boy Genius..."

She couldn't help but smile at the nickname. "He said you called him that often..."

Wide eyes welling with tears, Penelope nodded and tugged at her visitor's hand. "He was the smartest person I ever knew. Kindest, too. Here, come on inside, I'll make you some tea. Do you like tea? Maybe some hot chocolate?"

Her hospitality as she ushered her inside was both comforting and saddening to Y/N. It was in her nature to be that way to guests, even strangers, sure, but it also acted as a shield from the somber feelings she'd been rushed with at a moment's notice, no thanks to said stranger.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, Penelope," Y/N rushed as she shrugged her coat off. "You don't have to make me anything."

"Oh, I know I don't have to, but would you like something warm to drink?"

She was practically begging for the distraction, something to do with her hands as she had time to process and prepare for what was about to happen.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you."

"Perfect, I'll get it started. Make yourself comfortable, Sweets."

She carried her coat over her arms, holding it to her chest like a tether to reality. None of this felt real, even though she could still feel the warm glow of Spencer's energy all around her, like it had burrowed into the pores of her skin and made a home there.

As she looked around at Penelope's bright and colorful space, she thought about him... How often had he been here? What did they do together, and where did they hang out? She imagined the laughter and the stories and the cooking... She wished she would have known him then, been a part of his life. As scary as he told her it was at times, she knew there were also plenty of bright spots, and she knew Penelope was definitely one of the brightest.

Y/N smiled, hugging her coat tighter.

"I like your apartment," she complimented, sitting down at a small dining table in the corner.

"Thank you! I always told Spencer he should get some more color, but... What can I say, he really loved his neutrals."

The familiar detail brought a smile to her face. "That doesn't surprise me. He told me that even though he likes me, he really hates my floral couch and that it looked weird in his apartment. I told him he was boring." And, that technically, it was her apartment now. In fact, her exact words after the fact were, "What are you going to do, haunt me?" before they both laughed and continued making out on said couch.

But she didn't need to remind Penelope of the fact that he was gone. Or to inform her that she was intimately involved with his ghost.

Just the thought alone was enough to make the low, ever-present hum of his imprinted memory on her skin even more intense, and she smiled.

"Oh... I know that look."

Y/N looked up at Penelope, who was grinning with the most mischievous gleam in her eye.

"What look?"

"You think he's cute, don't you?"

"I... I don't..."

"Well, I suppose even if you can't see him, I'm sure he's charmed you anyway. And you probably Googled him."

"How did you—"

"It's what I would have done... So?" she prompted, still waiting for an answer of some kind.

Y/N sighed, defeated and impressed by Penelope's skills at quickly retrieving information. But she also didn't want to lie to her, so she had no choice but to answer her questions with the truth anyway. "Well, I can see him. But I couldn't at first. My um... My friends came over one night, and they brought a Ouija board. We used it for shits and giggles because I'd joked to them after I moved in that I didn't feel totally alone, and well..."

"It wasn't a joke?"

Penelope brought over the tea, steaming and aromatic. Y/N took it with a nod of thanks and sighed as she sat down across from her.

"No. But I didn't actually think I was living with a ghost, I mean... I didn't believe in that stuff. But I also wasn't going to risk pissing him off, so I tried to be nice to him. I only knew his name, and then my friends looked him up and we read his obituary, and... I don't know, I guess I just thought he seemed like a good person, so he deserved some kindness in the afterlife. I said hello to the air every time I came home from work, I yelled out a good night before going to bed... And then he started leaving me notes on my bathroom mirror, and I guess... I don't know, the more he and I got to know each other, the easier things became. Eventually he could touch things, and then soon after he was audible, then visible..."

She conveniently left out the details of that journey, though her skin warmed again at the memory.

"And now that we can communicate, it's become clear to me that he doesn't know where he's going— Why he's not at rest... I feel bad for him. He deserves..." Her breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard before looking down at the mug in her hand. "He deserves to move on."

Penelope was quiet for a moment as Y/N sipped her tea. Her hand reached out to grab hers, and the gesture almost had her in tears.

"You sound... Sad about that."

She couldn't help the pressure that pulsed behind her eyes, stabbing at her throat... Still, she made herself speak, barely above a whisper to prevent that inevitable cracking of the voice that would surely break the dam she was trying so hard to keep still and strong. "I... I know it sounds absolutely crazy..."

"You're falling in love with him."

Though the words didn't come from her own mouth, they came flying at her like a sucker punch to the gut. The wind was knocked out of her for a moment, until all she could do was exhale and let the tears fall silently as she nodded.

Penelope let her cry for a minute or two without a word while holding her hand, until she was ready to elaborate. "But I can't... I can't keep him here, it's not right. If he doesn't have any unfinished business, then he should be put to rest. And I... I don't know how to help him. I thought maybe, if I could talk to the people who knew him the best... I could get an idea."

"Oh, Honey, I... I'm sorry, but I don't know any more than you do." She was talking through tears herself, and Y/N squeezed her hand back. "His mother's been gone for years now, and there's no other family that he was close enough with to even consider, other than us, but... Truthfully I don't know if we really count in the grand scheme of things... I'd like to think that we do..."

"You might not be blood-related, but you were his family. He loved you so much, I could tell by the way he spoke about all of you. He... He misses you a lot. I just wish he didn't have to feel that loss anymore."

Penelope frowned. "I wish I could give you an answer... When you go back to him... Will you at least tell him that we love him?"

"He already knows. But yes. I will."

"And I'll keep on thinking. Whatever you need, you got it. I have access to pretty much everything so if there's information to be had, I will get my paws on it, and you will know. Thank you for coming to see me. And for telling me that Spencer's okay... He is okay, right?"

Y/N hesitated. She wasn't entirely sure how to answer without giving away their extra-curricular activities. "I think so. He's tired, I can tell. But I do my best to keep him happy. The last thing I need is to have him angrily haunting me."

Penelope laughed, then sighed. "Unfortunately, I think that means you better get rid of that glorious couch, then."

The laughter was a welcome break from the tears, which had already started to dry on her skin, leaving her cheeks itchy. "I really appreciate you being so kind, Penelope... Losing Spencer must have been absolutely impossible, and having a complete stranger show up at your door and pour salt in the wound... I couldn't imagine..."

"Y/N... If there was any person on this planet who could have moved into his apartment and helped him through this... I think I speak for the whole BAU when I say that he's lucky it's you."

The sentiment made her chest tight, and an involuntary pout tugged at her mouth. "You... You really mean that?"

Penelope laughed and squeezed her hand again. "Oh, Darling, you even pout like him... You're kind of perfect for each other."

"I don't know whether to be happy or sad about that," she replied through a fit of hysterics, and Penelope joined her.

It was clear then that these two women were meant to bond seamlessly over the loss of someone dear, one in life and the other in death. They were two sides of the same coin, a best friend and an anchor to the other side. It was a solace that neither of them had expected, but welcomed with open arms and warm understanding.

They exchanged stories and laughs and phone numbers and hugs, and joked about exchanging addresses, and a while later, just as Y/N was about to go home, fastening her coat, Penelope stopped her.

"Wait... I don't mean to make you sad or anything, and maybe this isn't the answer that either of you were looking for... But after today? If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Spencer's unfinished business is you."

The thought froze her entirely. It would stand to reason that they were meant to find each other, only to let each other go. Because, of course. Nobody was ever that lucky, especially neither Spencer nor his new roommate.

Sensing her overthinking, Penelope continued. "I know it's unfortunate given the circumstances, but... You did say that the more you got to know him, the more... alive he became. At least as alive as he can be. And I've only known you for about an hour, but I can confidently say that you are about as perfect for Spencer as somebody could be for anybody. And..."

She shifted on her feet, unsure of whether she should actually say what she was about to tell her, but obviously needing to make her point with as much context as possible. "You know, he's tried. He watched many of us find love and have families of our own, and he's always wanted that, but... He never got to have it. I think... that was the one thing that he always truly and completely wanted, especially after his mom passed and he had no one left but us... Somebody to go home to, somebody who understood him and cared about him and wanted to spend the rest of their lives with him... A soulmate. And... Y/N, I think it might be you."

Her head was swimming and tears were blurring her vision again. As much as she wanted to believe it, ever the lover of grand romantic endings, it didn't make sense. She didn't really believe in soulmates, did she? Then again, she didn't believe in ghosts, either, until recently...

"How could you possibly know that?" she whispered to Penelope, hoping for a switch in her brain to flip. She wanted to believe it. She wanted to dash home and confidently confess to the ghost living in her apartment that they were made for each other and that she could finally set him free.

And... Then what?

There had to be another explanation.

"I wish I could tell you how, definitively," Penelope answered sadly, "and like I said, I don't want to upset you... But it's just a feeling. And my feelings are hardly ever wrong. Hey, I mean I had a feeling that Spencer was still out there somehow, and that turned out to be true, right?"

"I... I guess," she sniffled.

"Just... Do me a favor, okay? Think about it. Spend tonight with him, like you normally do, and really really think about it. And tell me you don't feel it."

It almost sounded like a playful challenge rather than a request. Y/N wiped at her eyes and sighed. "You're really sure?"

"Positive."

Y/N wasn't really sure if she believed it still, but there was a conviction in Penelope's voice that was too sincere to ignore. And Spencer trusted her, which obviously meant a lot.

So, she promised that she would think about it anyway, bade her new friend farewell, and made her way outside, where the wind had died and left the streets lifeless and quiet.

———

Something was different about Y/N when she came home.

Spencer tried to let her go about the night and refrain from saying anything, but after regretfully informing him that Penelope had no wisdom to offer her about their situation but would get back to her if anything did come to mind, she was... odd. Perhaps she was just as tired as he was in trying to solve this mystery, or just tired in general. But he didn't want to push her if she didn't want to open up, so he did what he could and offered his company.

Still, she didn't seem right.

He thought maybe a flurry of warm, tender kisses along her skin would put her in high spirits, but the longer she let him worship her skin without so much as a sigh in return, it started to sink in that something was deeply wrong.

"Are you okay?" he asked sweetly, stroking her jaw with the back of his hand as he looked her in the eye. She looked at him for only a few seconds before averting her gaze, like if she allowed him to meet her eyes for any longer, he'd pull something from her that she'd rather not share. It sent a small wave of panic through him. "Y/N, talk to me, please... What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"No," she said unconvincingly.

"You don't... have to talk about it if you don't want to... But you're upset about something, and I want to help you. I'll do whatever you need me to. I'll listen, I'll leave you alone, I'll kiss it better... Whatever you want. It's yours."

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, defeated. "God, you FBI people are too good at getting information out of people, it's annoying."

Spencer laughed. "It wasn't my intention to make you feel interrogated. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm just... I'm..."

She couldn't seem to get out the words, like there was a frustrating lack of understanding how to convey them. He drew continuous circles gently into her palm and waited patiently for her to open up, silently promising that he would be there for her when she finally found the right words.

It was a question that she finally settled on. "Have you ever been in love? Like... Really in love?"

Something inside him jolted at the thought of where this conversation might lead. If he had a heartbeat, it would have raced and thrummed so heavily that the organ might have failed. In truth, he'd been thinking about it for a week or two now. Ever since the night he realized that his interactions with her were the key to becoming more sentient, the thought crossed his mind that perhaps she was the thing he was tethered to.

He didn't dare say it out loud, or to her face, because... Well, it was too soon, wasn't it? And it wouldn't have mattered anyway, because once he was lain to rest, they could never be together.

It was complicated.

"I think I was, a few times," he finally answered in earnest. "And to be fair, just because things didn't work out with them, it doesn't mean I didn't really love them. I did. But... I think deep down I knew they weren't really The One... Does that make sense?"

"I think so... I don't think I've ever been in love before. Even with long-term partners, we said the words, and I felt something that was happy and I thought was love, but..." She paused, avoiding his eye again before rapidly blinking back tears. "Now I feel this... this anchor to you that I can't let go of... I want to be around you all the time and I know it's not fair because you deserve to rest, but I can't help it. Spencer, I... You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm afraid that once I really admit it out loud, you'll be gone forever."

He knew, then, that this was it. Listening intently as she confessed, absorbing every word and allowing himself to feel and admit what he knew to be true for a while now, his body began to tingle. It was so dull at first, he almost mistook the feeling for 'butterflies'. It felt cruel not to tell her that he was starting to fade, but he didn't want to ruin the moment or panic her. He didn't want to tell her that she was running out of time. That they were running out of time.

So, instead, to try and ease the blow, he told her something sweet.

He told her, "I love you."

Her eyes glossed over at the confession. She reached urgently for his hands, her grip strong and willing like she knew what was going to happen. And maybe she did. Still, she sat there and listened to him, her eyes taking in every inch of his presence and committing him to memory.

He aimed to make it a memory she would never forget.

"I don't know when we'll see each other again, but I don't doubt that we will. Not for a second. And until then, my only wish is that you keep allowing yourself to fall in love. Don't be afraid of it. You shouldn't deny yourself just because I'm gone. Can you promise me that you'll try?"

Y/N blinked away tears and tugged at his hands. "What if I can't?"

"You will, my sweet girl. And I promise, I won't be mad at you."

She laughed despite herself, then almost cried again when she felt his presence start to fizzle and break in front of her eyes. She was desperate to hold on to him, clutching his hands for dear life and breathlessly whispering, "I love you, Spencer Reid," as if the conviction alone would be enough to keep him here. As if whatever cruel deity was putting them through this would see how much she needed him and decided to spare her the misery.

"I wish I could have known you when I was alive," he told her, leaning in closer. "Maybe we could have been neighbors."

She smiled through tears and pressed her forehead to his, the contact making her skin go numb. Silently she hoped that wherever he was going, she would be sucked in with him. "Then I would have invited you over for dinner."

He squeezed her hands, already feeling his grip fading, his essence nearly numbing him. Still, he willed himself to stay long enough to paint this life for the two of them—one they would never get to have, except only in dreams and perhaps in another life entirely. Anything was possible, after all.

"And I still would have made fun of your ugly couch."

"And I would have pushed you onto it and made you take it back."

"And I would have refused."

"And I would have kissed you ."

"And I would have kissed you back."

"And I would have fallen in love with you immediately."

"And I would have sworn that I'd fall in love with you in every universe."

She closed her eyes, feeling the very last remnants of his presence as she whispered, "I think it's safe to assume that you already have."

"And I think I'm inclined to agree."

THE END

[boltonbritreads]

🗣️Eddie Munson Fic Recs

This is gonna have a sappy start before I get into the fic rec portion: but I just wanted to say that at the end of May 2022, I was finishing up my first year of law school. It was rough, challenging, lonely, and basically everything you’d expect and I was in a bad place and the fandom I’d been in was slowing down just naturally. I truly wish I could remember how I even became aware of Eddie Munson because stranger things wasn’t really on my radar anymore and whoever I followed at the time that started to veer off into Eddie-mania, thank you. In the two years since then, I’ve graduated and become the worlds babiest lawyer and I genuinely owe a lot to this fandom and community on here for giving me a fun, usually safe, creative place to escape to when it got rough.

I’m just hoping to maybe remind people that there are already an incredible, incredible amount of existing stories to read and talk about that deserve your attention and love if you’re looking to read some Eddie stories. Some of these will be fics I’ve recommended before but I’m going to try my best to pull together writers and fics that I love and think everyone should read in the hopes that someone like me who still scrolls through eddie tags looking for my nightly bedtime story can find something new to them to read! ✨

Previous Fic Rec list here!! some overlap but there’s no such thing as too much hype for these writers

@munson-blurbs I hope it’s ok but I’m linking Bug’s full masterlist here because I have genuinely loved everything she has written. There are blurbs, series, and special events which are all incredible and worth a read! Bug is currently still writing the “Living after Midnight” series which is my current obsession and features rockstar!eddie x motelheiress!reader and it’s angst and lust galore

@corroded-hellfire also sharing the Eddie Masterlist here because there’s so many fics to read!! As You Wish, Big Brown Eyes, Where the Heart Is are all incredible but truly there’s so much here to enjoy

@upsidedownwithsteve SIMMER!! jk I’m actually linking the Eddie Masterlist here too because I love them all but “I Want You To Want Me” and “Simmer” are out of this world

@pinkrelish The Yes Policy I love it, you love it, we all love it and if you haven’t caught up yet oh my god I wish I was you and could read these chapters for the first time again

@ghost-proofbaby I’ve previously told people to go read 24 Hours, and you should, that’s an order; but Maroon is ongoing! and it’s actually infiltrating my every thought so go on over and get caught up bc I think it’s safe to say things are getting amped up

@trashmouth-richie I have also previously recommended Honey, I’m Home because it’s a work of art but Ziggy has a new mini series “Crash + Fall” that I’m completely obsessed with the concept for and I’ve loved every piece so far!

@tiannasfanfic I just reblogged Conviction again but I genuinely am not exaggerating when I say I think about this story and these two monthly and try and find this story all the time to re-read it endlessly. It’s a really lovely story of unplanned pregnancy and two characters not realizing they’ve been smitten for each other the whole time and I love it

@carolmunson I’m sharing another Eddie Masterlist here because I’d be making this post far too long but Carol’s stories are all incredible, complex, and honest. “Let’s go, don’t wait” just got updated and I had to read it like 3 times last night because it was too good to just read one and done

@rebelfell I just discovered Sarah’s blog after reading the most recent “Frenemy” fic and idk what I was doing wrong to not already follow her and not have already read her whole Masterlist but I’m linking the whole thing bc she’s so good!!

@the-au-thor I also only just discovered Elle’s blog and that’s criminal but thank god I found Babysitting Mun because I am a sucker for rockstar!eddie and this series has me on the edge of my seat rn

@storiesbyrhi I’m sharing the Masterlist folks because I have genuinely loved every single story and series and I have read them all now (some several times). So many of Rhi’s stories have a wonderful warm witchy vibe that I crave and I’ve read Siouxsie and the Soulmates, The Cabin in the Woods, Our Patron Saint of the Arts, Vintage Reeboks, and Burning Yarrow (insert screaming fan gif) multiple times now

@heart-eyed-love this fic is the epitome of a soft, cozy, domestic night with Eddie and if you need a hug read this 🥹

@eddieandbird I JUST got caught up on Eddie/Tour Manager series and I’m fully obsessed and desperate to know how they’re gonna navigate this - for folks new to the story, Eddie and his tour manager accidentally drunkenly get married- what could go wrong??

@eiightysixbaby the scream I scrumped when I finished reading Princess Leia, and Other Wishes - look bffs to lovers is already my absolute weakness on this earth but then you had to make it witty and funny and FLUFFY I just can do nothing but re-read and pine

@superblysubpar I’m still obsessed with this addition to The Boy is Mine writing challenge and oh god it’s so good 😩

…and while we’re talking about it - here’s the entire The Boy is Mine masterlist with an INSANE amount of incredible stories to read

@the-unforgivenn !!! tumblr hates me and deleted this bullet (so if you already saw this post, no you didn’t) but And I Need You to Know is a proper novel! I can’t imagine how much time, love, effort, planning, and work went into creating this insane and absolutely incredible world but everyone needs to read this!! and then follow up with She’s So Cold bc I love it and I am so reader

~~ this is not the end nor an exhaustive list! I just wanted to put something out there now that I plan to build on because I know I’m always scrolling and searching for new things to read or old things to revisit ♥️ ~~

[moonstruckme]

can you write remus and reader sharing a cigarette together, something about that is just so intimate to me i want to cry

Thanks for requesting babe!

cw: smoking

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 808 words

Remus can feel you looking at him in his periphery. He sighs, sending smoke billowing out into the dark alleyway, even as he feels the corner of his mouth tilt up. 

“We’re terrible influences on you,” he says. 

“You’re terrible influences,” James corrects him, standing upwind and looking at him and Sirius like they’re contagious. “I am nothing but good to her.” 

“Come on.” You grin at Remus, and yeah, that mischief in your eyes is definitely a result of spending too much time with their bunch. “I just wanna try.” 

Lately, you’ve been campaigning for a cig every time he’s having one. You’d never thought about it before you had friends who smoked, but now you’re curious, and he and Sirius’ regular smoke breaks don’t help matters. If Remus was a better friend, he’d show more restraint. 

“Mm, ‘fraid this is my last one,” he says, not lying but definitely not upset about it. 

You roll your eyes. “Sirius?” 

The glow of Sirius’ cherry lights his eyes with a smug amusement. “Don’t look at me, doll. He’ll be pissy if I give you one.” 

Remus has to suppress a grin when you turn back to him, arms crossed over your chest. “Really? I could just go get a pack on my own, you know.” 

Remus exhales smoke out one side of his mouth, watching you from the corner of his eye as he does. You look back at him, obstinate if a bit playful. 

“Fine,” he says. “We can share this one, if you want to try so badly.” 

Your expression falters, and he thinks he might have won, your bashfulness about your crush on him overpowering your want, but then challenge glints in your eye and Remus knows he hasn’t. Competitiveness is another thing you’ve picked up from their group (Remus likes to think that’s more James and Sirius than himself), and now once you’ve caught a whiff of a challenge there’s no deterring you. 

“Perfect,” you reply brightly. 

Remus tries once more. “You sure?” 

“Don’t do it,” James cautions you. “You’ll be sending yourself down a path of corruption and lung problems.” 

“Just this once,” you promise. 

“Just this once,” Remus agrees sternly. 

You beckon, and he taps the ash off the end of his cigarette, reluctantly passing it to you. You take it between your thumb and forefinger and lift it to your lips. 

“Just take a shallow breath,” Remus warns. 

You do, the cherry glowing only dimly as you inhale cautiously. Good girl, he thinks to himself. You blow out the smoke just as slowly, features tightening as you try to keep from coughing. 

Sirius laughs at the obvious strain, and a small cough escapes you. They all clap, Sirius still chuckling and Remus with a small, begrudging smile on his face. 

“That’s actually not so bad,” you say, somewhat croakily. 

“Oh? Happy to hear it.” Remus takes the cig back from you, putting it to his own lips again and trying not to think about how yours were just on it. It’s not the first time he’s shared a cigarette, but somehow with you it feels different. He has an inkling as to why. 

As he takes it away from his mouth, you reach for it again. 

He dodges you. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“I want another,” you say. 

“No.” 

“What?” A laugh trips off your tongue, and Remus holds the cigarette aloft as you make another grab for it. “Come on, you said we’d share!” 

“I’m not done with my turn yet,” he says, taking a hearty drag. 

“You’re going to finish it off before I can have any!” 

“Don’t know what you mean.” 

You reach for it again, and this time Remus doesn’t put up as much of a fight, letting you pluck the cigarette from his mouth. If the side of your index finger grazes his upper lip, he certainly doesn’t notice. 

You’re bolder this time, exhaling some of your air before breathing in. The cherry glows a fiery orange, and Remus feels his brow furrow. 

“Slower, love,” he murmurs. 

You manage not to cough this time, which Remus can tell impresses Sirius as much as it does him, blowing the smoke off to the side like you’ve seen them do a million times. It’s terribly hot. 

You keep breathing out even after there’s no smoke left, then inhale, humming contemplatively. 

“Sort of aches in your lungs, doesn’t it?”

“That’s the beginning of the end,” James says solemnly. “You’re done for, now.” 

“She is not,” Remus chides, swiping the cig from you. “But that’ll be all.” He tuts as you protest, setting his free hand atop your head under the guise of keeping you at bay. “Don’t want to hear it. You’re too lovely to corrupt. I won’t be a part of it.” 

That shuts you up.

[majestyeverlasting]

Hellooo, can I please request a Joel miller x reader oneshot where the reader had a really bad day at work and she’s calling him from the bathroom crying and he immediately rushes to pick her up? 🥰🩷

𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Female Reader 

Summary A disheartening setback at work leads you to call Joel, who always knows exactly what you need [fluff, 1.6k].

A/N Thank you so much for this request and your patience, anon! Really enjoyed writing this one.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Hi, are you busy right now?

A heavy exhale is freed from your chest the moment you hit send. It’s quiet in the bathroom except for the rhythmic drip of the leaky sink faucet. Muffled voices arise from the hallway as people pass by, some preparing to commute home. Warm tears stream down your cheeks. 

No sooner does your phone vibrate to life, a picture of you and Joel at McKinney Falls filling the screen. There isn’t much time to compose yourself before you press the accept button with a shaky thumb. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Got done early today, we’re cleaning up the site,” Joel greets, wind in the background. Tommy’s voice emits from nearby as well, followed by rowdy, cackling laughter. “Hold on a second, lemme get someplace quiet.” 

“Okay,” you murmur. 

There’s shuffling on his end of the line that eventually subsides. It’s still worth clinging to even though he’s miles away. 

“Sorry about that. Everything alright?” Concern dances around the edges of his words. You can tell he’s trying to keep them from being consumed. 

After Sarah moved out for college, he’d gotten better at accepting that every phone call he received from her didn’t automatically mean trouble. Most of the time, she simply wanted to catch up now that she lived two hours away. 

However, the opposite was true between you and Joel. Nowadays, you spend so much time together that there’s seldom a need to talk on the phone. The fact that you were calling him, from work, no less, meant something was up. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, but it doesn’t do much for the wavering of your voice when you finally speak up again, “Just wanted to hear your voice.” 

Your subsequent sniffle makes him grow still. You can see it through the phone. It’s in the way he doesn’t immediately respond, gears undoubtedly turning in his head. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” There’s a gentle, almost melodic quality to his voice that makes you wish you could lay your head on his chest and feel the rumble of his words. 

“Today’s just been a lot,” you tell him. “You know Alexander, the Bulletin’s editor?” He makes a small sound of affirmation. “It wasn’t his decision, but he pulled me aside to let me know my feature has been put on hold for further revision.” 

Relaying the news makes fresh tears well in your eyes. Over the past few weeks, Joel has watched you pour yourself into each stage of constructing the story to do the subjects justice—the meticulous research, heartfelt interviews, and late nights perfecting every draft. 

It was a labor of love, a piece that sought to illuminate the struggles of longtime Austin residents, artists, and small business owners navigating the challenges of gentrification and displacement. 

“Something about it being redundant.” Which, for all you knew, could be higher-up code for we don’t want this stepping on the toes of donors with deep pockets.  

“You’re kidding,” Joel grouses, disappointed for you. 

You shake your head even though he can’t see you. “I wish I was,” you breathe. “Redundant, yet they’ve got room for age-old dieting tips and holiday gift guides every year,” you say, voice wavering. 

“I know, I hear you. I’m so sorry, baby,” he soothes, releasing a heavy sigh. “At least it hasn’t been canned entirely. That’s worth something.”  

He’s right, but it still feels like a slap in the face considering all the time invested. From you and everyone who shared their story. 

“It just sucks,” you sniffle. “I didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now I feel even worse.” A dull ache has settled in your temples. 

Shuffling arises on Joel’s end of the line again, and you remember that he’s still on site. 

“I’m sorry. You can go if you need to.” 

Instead, he comes back with, “Hang tight, okay? Gonna come get you.” 

When you bite your lip instead of responding, he keeps talking, “Should be there in twenty, give or take.” 

As appealing as it sounds to be whisked away, reality is quick to set in. 

“No, it’s fine, Joel. Tommy and the guys need you. I couldn’t ask you to do that.” 

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t good for it,” he replies. 

•••

Outside, you’re met with a relaxed breeze and the dwindling warmth of downtown, where the sun eases towards the horizon. A few tourists mill around, men and women in business casual stride by with messenger bags. At Joel’s truck, which is parallel parked across the street, he gets the door for you. An 80s station plays low on the radio, Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run faintly recognizable. 

You watch as he rounds to the driver’s side in that relaxed stride you love. He looks handsome despite his mused hair and the specks of dried paint on his shirt. When he climbs in, you’ve taken notice of the ice-cold raspberry tea in the cupholder closest to you. 

Along the way, he’d stopped and gotten it from the cafe you and Sarah frequented whenever she was visiting from school. You only went alone as an occasional treat, but he knew how much you liked it. 

A smile buds on his face when you pick it up and take a grateful sip. There’s a softness to his gaze that makes warmth bloom in your chest. With him, even the little things seemed to say, I see you. 

When you extend the cup his way in a silent offer, he waves you off. However, curiosity gets the better of him after he pulls off the curb. “Guess a sip won’t hurt.”

For the first time in what feels like hours, you smile when Joel hums at the flavor. For a moment, it doesn’t feel like the world is ending anymore. When he places his hand on your thigh, you intertwine your fingers with his, and he gives your hand a squeeze. 

A comfortable silence settles between you. It isn’t until you’ve left downtown that Joel speaks up again, voice measured and sure, “Your story will get out. Those guys know good journalism when they see it, and they’re gonna have to run it.” 

You glance over at him, your lower lip caught between your teeth as hope kindles in your chest.

“Hell, I’ll make my own publication if that’s what it takes. The Miller Times.” 

A chuckle bubbles out of you, but you could cry at the same time. For an entirely different reason this time. 

“I could get in trouble for going to a different publisher,” you remind him, running your thumb over the back of his hand as a small smile plays on your lips. “I’m on staff.”  

“I know, honey.” Joel squeezes your hand, a playful glint in his eyes. “Admit it, though. You thought about it for a second. The Miller Times has a nice ring to it.” 

He can see you fighting against your growing smile. “It’s alright.” 

“I’ll take that,” he concedes. Then, a greater air of sincerity settles over him. “What’s that one saying—setbacks are setups for something better.” 

You nod, gazing out the window as you turn into his neighborhood. 

“Don’t let this weigh you down.” 

You felt worlds lighter with him. 

•••

The warm spray of the shower feels so good against your skin that you remain under it even after the day’s troubles have washed away. Three months ago, you would’ve had to use Joel’s body wash, but your products and belongings had since made their way here. Some, he bought because he knew you’d be around, and others—namely, clothes—that migrated from your apartment. 

The word home has lost its shape in that regard. Not in a detached way of not belonging in any one place, but in that Joel’s house had begun to feel like just as much of a home as your cozy one-bedroom a few miles away. 

When you finally step out of the shower, a towel wrapped around yourself, you can see straight into the bedroom, where Joel is stretched across the bed. The sound of the shower door closing prompts him to sit up with a low grunt. You offer a shy smile upon meeting his gaze. 

“Promise I’m not creepin’ around,” he says, standing to his feet. “Just wanted to see if your headache was gone. Can bring up some Tylenol if you need it.” 

“It’s fine. I feel better now,” you assure. With a satisfied nod, he turns to leave with the intent of giving you space, but stops in his tracks when you speak up again, “You’re allowed to creep around if you want. I don’t mind.” 

Joel saunters into the bathroom doorway, propping an arm against the frame. The motion causes his bicep to strain against the sleeve of his shirt. Getting to see you like this, the intimacy of it all, always makes him feel grateful and warm. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“You’re the boss,” you lilt.

With a low chuckle, Joel pushes out of the doorway and moves to stand behind you. You stare at your joint reflection as he rests his large hands on your hips, then leans down to press a delicate kiss to your bare shoulder. His frame is broad and rugged behind you, but his eyes are kind. 

When you rest your hands over his, he presses a second kiss to the crook of your neck. Then another just beneath your ear. His lips are so soft and warm against your damp skin that you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine and makes you press back into him. 

“I like you like this,” he whispers. “Relaxed…smiling.”

Now that you’re in his arms, it’s hard to imagine having stayed at the newsroom. With the meetings, chatty colleagues, and constant blue light. It’s quieter here with Joel. The world at large has disappeared while your smaller one keeps turning.

“I didn’t realize how much I needed this,” you admit. 

But Joel did. He always did. 

-

Thank you so much for reading. Like, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all.

MORE

[foreingersgod]

babes ur writing is so good , can you write something where the reader is going to indiana with caitlin but is nervous that cait will forget about her ???

*i think i interpreted this wrong so i’m so sorry lmao

Champagne Coast . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: request ^

A/N: y’all i’m so sorry for how long this took me!! and i feel like my writing has really deteriorated so please give me feedback and let me know if you like it or totally hate it lmao, thanks for your patience!!

also sorry i had to use YN like ONCE !!

wc: 10.6k

Finishing eight or nine?

Tell me, what's the perfect time?

your bowl had been placed in the dishwasher long ago, countertop cleaned and leftovers placed in the nearly empty fridge. dinner was growing cold and you hadn’t cared to wait, opting to eat alone yet again before residing in the living room. the tv played in the background with some arbitrary doctors show from the 90s as you sat patiently watching the clock. the hands were beginning to collect dust, you noticed, though it had only been up for a few months upon your move to indiana. each tick seems to mock you the more time dragged on.

she was supposed to be home long ago. practice would have been done at 8 or 9 and it was now approaching 11. this is what it always was, waiting up for her well into the night when the street lamps turned on and the sky grew dark. and you’d wait up like you always did as you were unable to sleep without her. especially in this new home, new bed, new sheets, new life. it never quite bothered you that caitlin would show up late every once and awhile, but it had started to become a habit, and you were left cold and alone. pestering her about being home at a certain time wasn’t fair to her by any means, knowing that she was just going and getting to know her team some more. but recently it felt like you were navigating this milestone in your life by yourself-your girlfriend hardly around to comfort your racing mind.

when caitlin had been drafted, you knew immediately in your heart that it was going to be rough. change was something of a challenge for you and it terrified you more than anything. you recalled sitting at that table, hearing her name announced and the deafening cheers, thinking about how excited you were for her. and even though you were thrilled for her, you couldn’t help but think about how your perfect world was going to slowly crumble. caitlin insisted that things wouldn’t fall apart, just adjust for the future you were going to build together. but now you were here, in this house-not home-trying to convince yourself that all of it was true.

suddenly, you were pulled from your period of musing when the lock of the front door clicked. it was followed by the faint creaking of hinges, old brass from the 70s, your land lord had claimed. you thought she was full of shit. weary eyes traveled to the opening door to see a very tired caitlin walking in. her hair was tousled, post practice shirt just slightly wrinkled, the slightest bags under her eyes that she insisted weren’t there. she was struggling with the move just as much as you, though she’s never admit it.

“hey,” you uttered just enough to be heard over the television. feelings of your isolation had begun to dissipate the moment you saw your girl, relief running through your veins “you’re home”

“yea” she cleared her throat as she let her bag fall to the floor. the squeak of her shoes echoed against the walls when she toed them off, eventually setting them on the rack beside the door. there was an uneasiness laced in her voice you had picked up on. she didn’t seem angry nor irritated, but she was far from her usual self when she was home. she’d typically be thrilled to see you, ready to be in your arms again and let the stress from the day wash off. you were the first thing she’d looked for when she stepped across the threshold. but tonight, her eyes were hesitant to find yours.

“are you alright?” you watched as she shuffled into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, skipping over the leftovers that you had considerately set aside just for her. her favorite meal dished into the nicest tupperware you owned. her slim figure leaned against the cool marble countertop, taking a swig of the water “you seem a bit…off”

“just tired” she glanced at you, locking eyes for what felt like the first time since she’d been home. a weak smile made its way onto her lips as she studied your position on the couch. you couldn’t lie, she did look tired, but part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that had been consuming you for months. the distance that basketball had created made it feel like you and caitlin were living separate lives, when really, this should be something you tackled together. you couldn’t blame her for any of it even if you wanted to, just hoping that things would go back to the way they were.

you wished she were home more, that her presence would provide you some sort of reassurance. maybe just to convince you that you weren’t going insane, liked you were trapped within these walls for a reason other than her career. it had been a while since you felt like you were living a life that didn’t solely revolve around caitlin’s.

“okay” you smiled back bitterly without pressing any further. any energy you had for a conversation like that had left your body hours ago. reaching for the remote and lifting yourself off the couch, you motioned to the stairwell. considering she didn’t even acknowledge the food, you assumed settling down for the night was what you both needed “ready for bed?”

she blinked rapidly, kissing her teeth silently when she noticed the annoyance in your voice. guilt consumed her as she saw the look on your face, the twinge of desire lost from your eyes.

“mhm” she hummed in agreement as she followed you upstairs to the bedroom.

maybe you both just needed some sleep, caitlin thought. neither of you were mad nor cross with each other, but you’d be fools if you didn’t sense the tension in the air. things had been different for quite some time now, all of it too confusing to address, leaving you to wallow in the awkwardness for days now. but if there was any time, any place, where all that was left at the door? it would be here with each other in bed. it was something of a safe haven, nothing else mattered when you left your worries at the door and held each other tightly.

like clockwork, you stripped of your typical daywear down to your lace panties and one of caits t-shirts. it had a worn down high school logo on it, the design fading from the countless times it had been through the wash. she, likewise, pulled her sweaty gym shirt off her body to replace it with one from her closet. you crawled under the covers whilst you took off your earrings, setting them on the small tray on your nightstand-something you picked out at target when you and caitlin went decor shopping for the new apartment. you had barely noticed caitlin also climbing into bed as the memory of that day overtook you. no words were exchanged as you both settled into the sheets, pulling the thick duvet over your shoulders and finally letting your muscles relax. it was only when a pair of burley arms wrapped around your waist, a familiar nose prodding against your collarbone, did the silence break.

“love you” caitlin whispered, breath warm on your skin “m’sorry i was late tonight and that i missed dinner. i’ll make it up to you”

“s’ok cait,” you murmured, sleep tugging at your eyelids. you brought a hand up to her head as you raked your fingers through her hair, she always loved it when you did “i love you too”

it mattered not what she did to make it up to you. she could do anything in the world, buy you countless gifts, take you on a million trips, but it wouldn’t change the one thing your heart desired for.

her.

I told you I'll be waiting

Hiding from the rainfall

trying to navigate to the locker room was a difficult task, having to push past the cheering crowds in a stadium you weren’t familiar with. you were surrounded by a blur of seattle’s green and yellow jerseys as you looked for any sort of path to follow. indiana had just taken quite the loss against the storm and you knew, the second you heard the buzzer sound, that you needed to find caitlin as soon as possible. eventually, you found where you needed to be and beelined for the locker room, hoping she hadn’t already gone looking for you.

the large metal doors stood tall in front of you when you arrived at the locker room entrance. the shift from the excitement out on the stadium floor to this quiet displeasure was staggering and you weren’t even inside yet. whatever you were about to be faced with would break your heart, you could already see it now. you pictured caitlin sitting down, head in her hands as she tapped her foot anxiously and made her best attempt to hold back her tears. she had been struggling with everything recently-the move, the new team, the continuous losses-it was slowly chipping away at her.

however, after pushing the doors open and stepping inside, it was quite the opposite from what you expected. the doors clicked shut behind you, causing the noise to reverberate around the desolate room as you took in the sight before you. and just as you imagined, your heart slowly began to twinge. caitlin sat there on the bench alone, head leaned against her locker as her chest heaved up and down. tears cascaded down her face and her lip quivered the more she sobbed. wispy strands of hair stuck to her forehead from all the sweat and her hands clutched the sides of her head in frustration. you had never seen her in such a state. caitlin was typically reserved, even with you, not wanting to be open and vulnerable. but here you were, seeing her with all of her guards down.

“caitlin” you breathed, immediately rushing over to her. you fell to your knees, body slotting between her thighs. shaky hands came to rest on her legs hesitantly as to not make matters worse “hey, hey what’s going on baby?”

she made a weak attempt at looking at you, tears blurring her vision. a hiccup escaped her chapped lips when she felt your soothing touch on her clammy skin. caitlin couldn’t even manage the words, thoughts lost in her own mind, only tangling more as she continued her cries. she managed to push herself off the locker, letting herself collapse into you as she shook her head. something to signal her unwillingness to talk. her large arms and heavy torso clashed against you as you enveloped her into a hug. warm tears dropped onto your shoulder as she pressed her cheek into your clavicle, creating a damp spot on your indiana fever t-shirt.

“shhh, i know you’re upset,” you rubbed circles onto her back, palm running across the fabric of her jersey “but i need you to talk to me, i can’t make it better if you won’t tell me”

“i just-” she croaked, voice wavering “i feel like…like a failure”

your body went stiff, the movements of your hand stopping momentarily. you hoisted her back up to face her in disbelief. the confession had taken you aback-not that caitlin had been anything but humble, but she knew how amazing she was, of her immense impact on the sport. to hear that word tumble from her lips, masked by a series of desperate whimpers, was enough to break you.

“caitlin,” you dragged on, feeling yourself at a loss for words. everyone thought so highly of your girl and it crushed you to hear her say those words “you are so far from that”

you watched her throat bob as she swallowed harshly. she tugged at the bottom of her jersey, bringing it up to her face to wipe some of the sweat away. in reality it was just an excuse to hide her blood shot eyes. another shake took possession of caitlin’s head to deny your statement.

“yea well my performance begs to differ”

“one bad game isn’t-”

“it’s not just one game” she cut you off before you could even begin to disagree. she had stopped crying by now, intense emotions now overtaken by aggravation “it’s several games. i keep fucking up. missing shots, turning over the ball-shit”

her rambles trailed off in a rampage of huffs and groans, her breath hot as she breathed angrily out of nose. she was always too hard on herself, lost in the heat of the moment and not giving herself any grace for all the hard work she’s put in thus far. it was a topic that began to consume your daily life. caitlin couldn’t seem to shake off the struggles of the day, in turn bringing them home where they became your baggage as well. of course you didn’t mind being there for your girl-hell, you’d do anything for her no matter what-but it was all starting to get exhausting.

you hated that you had these thoughts in the first place, feeling like a bad partner because you couldn’t bare the repetition of these conversations. time after time after time again you’d beat yourself up over it. caitlin deserved the world and more, but you deserved that just as much and these restless nights weren’t providing that. you didn’t even know what to say anymore, torn between how you wanted to proceed.

“there’s a lot on your plate,” you reassured, getting off your knees and taking a seat next to her on the bench. caitlin’s head automatically went to your shoulder as you took one of her hands in yours “you’re just starting out…don’t be so hard yourself. i know it’s rough, but you’re doing what you can and that’s what makes you so amazing. give yourself some grace, babe”

“i know but,” she sniffled, feeling a sense of calmness rush over her as you toyed with her fingers. it kept her distracted, grounded her for the time being “i don’t know, i’ve just been wanting to be the best all the time-for everyone-and i can barley even keep my head straight”

“i think i can speak for everyone when i say you’ve blown us all away” you traced along her lengthy fingers “your fans, your family, me…we’re all so proud of how far you’ve come”

she sighed deeply, you could practically feel the relief dispersing in her veins. in trying times like this, this is exactly what she needed. you were the shoulder to cry on, the answer to all her problems.

“you always know what to say”

she was right, you did. you’d always have the most thoughtful response lined up, no matter the reason or time. partially because it came so naturally to you, having an empathetic heart since forever, but partially from the consistency of these conversations. you couldn’t even count on your fingers the amount of times you’d sit with caitlin on tough nights, rubbing her back and whispering softly in her ear to bring her back to reality.

“well it’s the truth” you chimed “i’m always going to be here for you, cait”

you always are.

she offered you a smile through puffy pink lips, sore from biting them in strain. caitlin found the strength to pull away from you as her hands left yours, only to plant them right back onto your cheeks. her hands felt heavy on your skin when she brought your face to hers gently. your lips met in a sharp yet delicate kiss, caitlin eager to feel you against her again. but it hadn’t felt usual to you, as your bottom lip caught between her teeth and as your tongue collided with hers. it lacked that passion, that thrill of reveling in your lovers embrace. what was once fire was now a mere ember is a pool of spreading ash. you had feared this feeling for quite sometime although you’d never admit it, it felt as if she was slipping through your fingers.

bit by bit.

Tell me, what's the joy of giving

if you're never pleased?

she had changed.

locking herself away and distancing herself further from you as the season went on. she had always been hard on herself, but even then, she knew when enough was enough and what her limits were. but it seemed that after each game, she lost control of herself more and more. you had never seen her be so critical, so judgmental about her abilities.

it was hard to watch one of the most important people in your life shut themselves away. you wanted nothing more than to be there for her, but she put on the same facade each time and claimed that it as a slump to overcome. but could you really call it a slump when it was starting to weasel its way into the foundations of your relationship?

you hated to think it, but you felt neglected; your wellbeing didn’t feel like it was a priority to caitlin anymore. she used to be so sweet, attentive and caring when you were back in iowa. you wished that you were just as important as basketball. but the mere thought of accusing her of abandoning you seemed harsh when you considered bringing it up to her, because in all fairness, she was undergoing one of the biggest milestones in her life. but that didn’t mean that pushing you aside was fair either. you were taking care of the apartment, running all the errands, helping her balance her schedule, comforting her every single night as she saught after you for solace…and then managing your own life on top of that.

some days it felt like she didn’t even bat an eye at the lengths you went for her. how her laundry was done and set on her dresser, how dinner was made each night, how you picked up her favorite protein powder at the grocery store because you noticed that she was running low? she had began to expect it the more you pushed, not even offering so much as a ‘thank you’ or any regard of appreciation.

you could only give so much with little in return, you need her just as much as she needed you.

On my last strength against you

Baby, tell me what you need

you were happy for her, truly you were. it was so rewarding to see caitlin bond with her team and start to navigate her place in the W. she was beginning to believe in herself and that’s all a girlfriend could want for her partner. but something continued to gnaw at you.

you were doing everything in your power to make more time for caitlin-even if it should be the other way around. maybe by clearing up your schedule, it would make it easy for caitlin to make time for you. but you were sorely mistaken, you couldn’t force someone to make time for something that barely crossed their mind. and perhaps it was a foolish thought. an accusation a bit too cruel, but it was hard to watch caitlin celebrate life without you when most of it was owed to you. no one else served as her backbone, her crutch as she climbed her way to the top.

it was a bittersweet feeling for the most part. you smiled when seeing all the team pictures posted on instagram, chuckling lightly when caitlin retold stories of practices as she got ready for bed each night-the only time you seemed to get with her nowadays. but then there were the tears when you ate meals alone at the head of the table, staring off into the empty seat where she should be sat. and of course the mornings where you didn’t feel like getting out of bed because facing reality of your crumbling relationship was too much to bare.

it was an unfair truth; as she glances off in another direction, you’ll be glancing back to her.

Young as I want to know

I will never let you go

“baby?” her voice felt foreign in your ear. you hadn’t heard that pet name in a while.

“hm?” you responded mindlessly, unable to form a genuine reaction.

you were sat on the balcony of you apartment, the sliding glass doors open behind you. it would let the autumn chill into the house, you told caitlin many times to not leave it open. but she disregarded your commands as she leaned against the frame of the door. you had a small blanket draped over your lap to protect your bare legs from the nippy weather of the changing seasons, your chin resting on your palm as you over looked the view of indiana. your mind felt blank and overcrowded at the same time and trying to clear your head with some fresh air didn’t seem to help at all.

you hadn’t realized she would be home so soon. after all it was 5:00 on a friday evening, you presumed she’d be out with the team or running extra drills with aliyah, hell even at a media event of some sorts. you never knew what it was anymore with her. she didn’t bother to text or update you, most times you only knew of her whereabouts from socials or her family.

“are you ok?” she asked again “it’s freezing out here, you should be inside”

“it’s too stuffy” you sighed, inhaling sharply as the breeze brought in another gust “i can’t be in there right now”

you felt her tense up behind you, the image of her shoving her hands into her pockets formed in your peripheral. this was the most you two had interacted in a while, but your moody attitude appeared sudden to caitlin.

“why not?”

“jus’ can’t”

an unsteady silence filled the atmosphere. the only noises left to be heard were the sniffling of your red and runny nose and the traffic blaring below the apartment complex. you had hoped she’d leave you alone and walk back inside. the optimism of trying had started to disappear and you didn’t think you had much fight left in you. you planned to savor the last bits of energy you had to keep this alive, although today didn’t feel like one of those days. you continued to look out into the distance when she finally moved. you felt the spot next to you plunge as she took a seat.

“you never answered me,” her hand came to rest reassuringly on your thigh. despite the blanket that separated your skin, the contact still felt cold “are you doing ok?”

she had already picked up on your weariness, you were never so shut off when you were with her. but you couldn’t pretend to care when she couldn’t either.

“mhm” everything in you fought to not make it sound so obvious, the sound of your heart breaking as you croaked out the words “i’m good”

caitlin was doing so well and you couldn’t bring yourself to be the bitchy girlfriend that was groveling for attention. you weren’t okay, your relationship wasn’t, but if you just sat in the quiet and let it blow over then maybe it would be. you feared being seen as selfish and you felt guilty as you pushed caitlin away with your short answer.

she huffed, pulling her hand away from you as she hunched over her self, elbows on her knees and head in her hands.

“weeks ago you were talking about how excited you were for fall” she muttered “so that you could put out decorations and we could cuddle up on the couch and watch those old scary movies you love so much”

you allowed yourself to look in her direction, noticing how her face was covered by her beautiful long hair. but you didn’t need to see her to know that she wasn’t pleased.

“but the house looks the same and you’ve been sitting on the balcony every day even though you know it’s gonna make you sick” she craned her neck to look out across the city and you could see the trail of tears in her eyes. just glossy, but not enough to fall “it doesn’t sound like you’re ok”

you couldn’t do this, not right now.

“i’m sorry” you breathed “i understand your concern. i just think i’m a little stressed is all you know? just got a lot going on right now and i guess my focus has just been elsewhere. i’m sorry”

a nearly complete lie, all your focus had been on her these days.

“no need to be, i get it, and you know you can always talk to me about these things. but you gotta come inside, babe” she prodded “you’ll catch a cold”

with reluctance, you gave into her request and pushed the blanket off your lap. caitlin watched as you folded it and draped it over your arm before taking your hand and guiding you inside. the warmth and the calming pumpkin scent of your candle enveloped you like a hug, putting you at ease for the time being.

the both of you fell back into your typical routine almost instantly. no words were exchanged as she headed upstairs to shower, and you moseying into the kitchen to start on dinner. some polite conversation was made when caitlin came back downstairs with wet hair and freshly moisturized skin to help you finish dinner, but that’s as far as it went. no hugs from behind as you stood at the stove, no kisses on the neck, no laughter that was pure enough to make your stomach hurt. but it was simple and it was nice, enough to hold you over until the rubber band holding you together finally snapped.

Trading a baseball lover as I face the snow

“alright,” you said as you walked into the living room, heels padding against the carpet of the hallway and your dress itching at the skin on your legs. your fingers fiddled with your last earring, making you huff in relief when the clasp finally shut “i’m ready!”

it was date night tonight, the first in what felt like years, and there weren’t any words that could describe how ecstatic you were. just the thought of some much needed bonding time with caitlin gave you hope. yes times have been tough, but there wasn’t anything a little quality time (and maybe some good sex) couldn’t fix. you had been planning this night for sometime, making sure you both had the evening off and meticulously scheduling every last minute of the night. you were optimistic that tonight would open up a new door for progress.

but when you walked into the living room, your heart sunk. here you were, all dolled up with the prettiest smile on your face, waltzing into the most disappointing sight.

caitlin sat on the couch, legs spread and back against the soft cushions. she had her phone in hand, hair pulled back like always…and most definitely in a dirty tee shirt from her hamper and a pair of sweats. certainly not date attire, you knew.

“cait” you stood blankly “it’s 7:00”

“uh yea” she responded, only looking up from her phone for a moment, then quickly doing a double take once she realized your physical state “what’s with the dress? i mean you look as beautiful as always but-”

“are you serious?” you scoffed. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. never in a million years did you think this would happen in your relationship. caitlin wasn’t like that.

“what do you mean ‘am i serious’?” she was taken aback, frustration already evident on her face as her checks glowed a shade of red “i just asked a fucking question”

“you really don’t know?” shoulders slumping when you realized she actually did forget.

she shook her head, brows furrowing as she awaited your response. a quick “no” fell from her lips.

“is the 24th caitlin” you chewed at your lip nervously, trying to hold back tears. you voice wavered as it caught it your throat, making you sound weak and defeated “our date?”

the color drained from her face in seconds, gaze softening and lips downturned. she was off the couch in seconds as she stumbled towards you, bringing your hands into hers. but you pulled them away swiftly and shot her a glare. you were done with the excuses, done with being left in the dust

“babe, i’m so sorry” she shook her head and brushed off the sting that came with your reluctance to her touch “i totally spaced, i could’ve sworn it was next week”

“i’ve been talking about this for months, caitlin” the words stumbled out from gritted teeth, jaw clenched in anger. you had no idea what to say anymore.

she gulped deeply as she looked down to her feet, she was in the doghouse for sure. although you’d consider her fate to be much worse than that. you began to sniffle upon her silence. could she really not manage to say anything right now?

“let me make it up to you” she tried to compromise. part of her knew she’d never be able to outlive this, but she was delusional enough to still believe she could somehow fix it.

“no,” you breathed, bending down to take off your heels. there wasn’t even a point in salvaging this tonight “just forget it”

“no really, you’re upset and this meant a lot to you and i want to fix it”

that was your breaking point. perhaps she didn’t mean it that way, but did she really only see this as something important to you? did she care at all about spending time with you? you wouldn’t be dumb to think that she wouldn’t, she had hardly done anything recently to make you think otherwise.

“really?” you sneered again, there was nothing holding you back anymore. you tossed your shoes onto the couch, leaving them as a problem for later “you want to fix this because it meant a lot to me?”

caitlin tried to study your facial features as she said nothing yet again. she couldn’t tell if you were genuinely mad or just annoyed, willing to forgive or prepared to hold this against her. she noticed the deepened tones of your cheeks and nose, the twitch of your left eyebrow, and the motion of your tongue darting out to sooth the previous bites on your lip. she had never seen you this mad, not in the eternity she had known you. you were such a sweet and loving person, incapable of talking bad about someone or staying mad for long. but she’d be damned if it felt you hadn’t changed within a second.

“i thought you would’ve cared too” you continued “you know, since i’m your girlfriend and you should also want to spend time with me”

“i do spend time with you”

“the fuck you do”

“what the hell does that mean?” she questioned angrily “of course i do, i’ve just been busy”

“please enlighten me then” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes “when was the last time we spent time together?”

“well what about tuesday, huh? when we, uh..when we watched that movie before bed? or when we both went to the team dinner the other night? that was spending time together wasn’t it?”

“no i watched the movie, you barely talked to me all night and the crawled into bed and went to sleep with your back turned,” you choked up as you recalled the memory, you remembered how much it broke your heart. your fingers came to pinch the bridge of your nose as the familiar sting of tears washed over you. “and really, the team dinner? you call that spending time? is it really that if you just chat with your buddies the whole night? you practically ignored me the entire time”

she kissed her teeth at you, clearly aggravated, but deep down she knew you were right. she hadn’t been good to you at all these last few months. and if she were to really be fair to herself, she’d have to admit that it was taking a toll on her too. she didn’t know why she was doing this, why she was acting this way, but she had already made her bed and she’d have to lie in it. this was a habit she knew she’d been baring for quite some time, pulling away when things got hard, leaving her loved ones to cope with the pain from her mistakes. and it broke her heart each time, but with you, it was like she was losing air.

“i’m trying here, alright?” her throat was dry as she tried to give you some poor excuse. she was too caught up in her own shame that she was digging her grave deeper.

“look caitlin,” you glared “i don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but i’m tired. trying just won’t cut it. i know you’ve felt the distance too, we haven’t been normal for a while now and it’s killing me. i can’t eat alone every night, have you come home just to ignore me, and the only time i get with you is under the public eye or with your friends. i know you have shit going on, cait, but you keep pushing me further and further away from you and i don’t know how much longer i can take it. i’m here for you time and time again and you can’t find it in yourself to set aside one fucking night for me”

you chewed at your lip, carefully navigating your next move before continuing.

“i left my entire life behind for you, caitlin. my friends, my family, everything that i have ever known. i left it all to be here with you and support you. and the fact that i spend every day mourning you when you’re in the same house is suffocating, i just can’t do it”

body shaking with anticipation, you looked down at your bare feet. you couldn’t bring yourself to look her in the eyes anymore. before you could stop it, sobs racked your body, tears cascading down your face. the emotions were too much to handle.

“babe-” she cooed, voice softening upon your confession. she’d never felt so disappointed in herself.

“stop,” you said meekly, cutting her off through your own sniffles. you forced yourself to look at her briefly, wiping away the mascara that had definitely accumulated under your eyes. whatever she had to say, you couldn’t hear it tonight. whether it be an apology or total rejection, the end to this period of suffering was about to end and you weren’t ready to deal with it head on yet “i think we need some time, caitlin. i just-i’m too upset and i’m hurting and i think time will do us some good”

“wait what?”

“you need to work out your shit. i don’t know, i think i’ll go to one of my friends places or something for a while..because i can’t put myself through anymore of this”

“no,” it came out as a blurt, her mouth moving before she could think. although she wouldn’t want to think, the image of you leaving plaguing her mind already “please, no, we can figure this out! god, fuck- just please don’t leave me”

you watched her slowly breakdown, she was becoming increasingly hysteric as begged you to stay. you gulped hard when she started crying along with you, another one of the few times she had shown you this side of her. it pained you to see the sight, your instincts told you to take it all back and reassure her everything was ok. but you had to keep your head high and remind yourself that things wouldn’t be ok if you didn’t look out for yourself, even if that included stepping away from caitlin for a few days.

“i’m not…i’m not leaving you, cait. just gonna take some time away, we both need to think about how this relationship is going to continue. and i can’t have an open mind if the cycle continues. but i promise it’s not goodbye, ok?”

she breathed through staggered hiccups, trying to force her body to relax. she couldn’t stand to be without you, even if it didn’t seem like it these past few months. her calloused hand came up to run down her face, taking the tears with it in an attempt to calm down.

“yea” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. she hated this, but she knew you both needed the time. you were always right “yea, ok”

and with that, you reluctantly stalked to the bedroom to pack a bag for a few days. shoving random shirts and shorts into the small duffel, avoiding the ones that you’d previously stolen from caitlin over the years. she had opted to sulk alone in the living room, bracing herself by sitting on the couch. she still couldn’t process any of this, the fact that she wouldn’t be with you for more than a day made her sick. even more sick at the fact that you couldn’t talk this out right away, you’d both have to navigate your feelings alone for a while.

she was perched at the edge of the couch, knee bouncing at an alarming rate. her gaze was fixed at the wall in front of her, staring at the variety of pictures that you’d hung on the wall. some of you both when you were younger, others of pictures with your families, and a few from the vacations and holidays you two shared since you’d been together. but her favorite ones, the ones she couldn’t bring herself to look away from, where the one of just you both. her eyes flickered across each and everyone, looking at the way you smiled at her, eyes almost welling up again when she saw how happy you guys were. she’d do anything to have those moments back, go back in time and stop herself from treating you so horribly.

she was disrupted from her period of musing when she heard you walk down the stairs for the second time tonight. you came into view with a bang slung across your shoulder, high heels replaced with a beat up pair of converse. you grabbed your keys as you stopped momentarily to give caitlin a saddened look, lips drawn in an apologetic smile. but you had nothing to be sorry for, caitlin thought when she gave you a similar look in return.

“hey,” she said before you could reach the front door. you turned your head, hand resting on the knob. desperation lingered in her eyes “i love you, and i’m so fucking sorry”

you dipped your head and pursed your lips, letting her know of your approval before fully opening the door and beginning a solemn ascent to your friends apartment.

“i know”

On my last strength against you

Baby, tell me what you need

it had been 6 days. 6 agonizingly long days.

she had nothing but time to think, and yet, she couldn’t seem to gather her thoughts at the same time. her mind was everywhere, bouncing from regret and guilt, to anger and dissatisfaction, and of course the remorse and pain. this is what caitlin was afraid of doing, pushing herself so far away that it had finally gotten to you. she’d gotten caught up in her head so deep that she failed to realize how much you were hurting. she’d never forgive herself for this.

everything felt gloomier without you, she noticed that now. there was a certain comfort in you being there, even if she did ignore you and push you to the side, you’d always be there and she abused that luxury. from the moment you left the essence of your shared home shifted uncomfortably. it was like a storm had unleashed its wicked winds to reign terror over the household, dulling your spirt that had kept it so pleasant and welcoming.

but she had to admit, the time was good. she needed to sit and make a change, promise herself that she’d get better for you. even if that did mean she’d have to sleep alone for a few nights, order takeout because her cooking would never amount to yours, brush her teeth before bed and come home from practice with you nowhere in sight. it was a necessary torture, but only temporary, she reminded herself. maybe she’d never know why she was acting the way she was, have to come to terms with the fact that she’s a shitty girlfriend and doesn’t deserve the apology she hoped you were willing to give. but despite knowing or not knowing, at least she could catch the poison that was her troubled subconscious before it could sink too deep. it was time to give up the self loathing and internal ridiculing. she wouldn’t let herself hurt you anymore

caitlin had always struggled with holding herself to an unachievable standard, convincing herself that she would never be enough or worthy of all this attention. she couldn’t believe that so many people wanted to watch her play, that she was first pick and that she was finally playing pro like she always wanted-part of her thought it was too good to be true. but she didn’t want to wake up from this implausible dream, forcing herself to go above and beyond just to hold onto it. and in the process, she’d forgotten to make time for you too. it was foolish, to ignore you like she had, you were her everything. every waking moment, at every practice and at every game, you consumed the entirety of her mind. at the end of the day, she was doing this all for you.

it was easy to get lost in the fame and the excitement and the pressure, but it shouldn’t have been enough to make her neglect you. nonetheless, she managed to do it anyways. so she took these 6 days to reflect and really target why she felt like she needed to act like this. she would go to the ends of the earth for you, willing to pick herself apart if it meant making it up to you.

Come into my bedroom

Come into my bedroom

her foot tapped nervously against the coir fiber of your friends doormat. a faded “welcome” written in black felt contradictory as she tried to find the motivation to knock. you hadn’t texted or called, hadn’t reached out to caitlin at all to let her know you were ready. but she needed you like she needed air and just had to see you. she had to finally apologize for how terrible she was acting, beg for your forgiveness because being away from you was eating her alive.

she let out a shaky breath as her closed fist met with the white wooden door, sending a loud pounding noise through the other side. caitlin could hear your friends dog barking and scratching against the door, followed by rushed footsteps that got increasingly closer. she barley had a moment to regather her thoughts before the door was pulled open harshly.

“caitlin?” your friend came into view, disheveled as she tried to keep her dog from running out the door. she quirked her eyebrows at caitlin’s presence, shocked and confused-and definitely a little angry-as to why she was at her door “what’re you doing here?”

“i um,” caitlin cleared her throat as if to stall, wanting more time to think of the right thing to say “i was hoping i could talk to-”

“i don’t think she’s ready to see you, cait” your friend muttered, trying to keep her voice down so you couldn’t hear. and you probably didn’t, caitlin was extremely aware of that.

“i know i know” caitlin urged “but i just need to see her ok? i need to make this right”

your friend chewed at the inside of her cheek as if contemplating her next move. you were her best friend and she’d do anything to protect you. after a few seconds, she shook her head and began closing the door, offering caitlin an apology and a goodbye as caitlin continued to beg for just one chance.

“no please, just let me see her! just a few minutes!” she said louder this time, slotting her sneaker clad foot in the doorway “i just need a second i swear to god-”

your friend put all she could into getting caitlin to leave, trying to push her out the door as quickly as possible. but she was persistent and continued her pleas.

somewhere in between the endless banter, through caitlin’s desperate cries and your friends agitated dismissals, came the answer to caitlin’s prayers. you were napping in the guest bedroom when she walked up the steps to your friends home, having been exhausted from sobbing throughout the night. just like caitlin, you hated sleeping alone. but your efforts to seek out peace were quickly interrupted when you heard subtle shouts from the the other room. curious and worried when you heard your friend raise her voice, you hurried to see what the commotion was all about.

you were surprised to the see the scene unfolding in front of you. your friend wrangling the door shut as her legs fought to keep the dog at bay, cussing out whoever was behind the door. you could’ve about laughed at her antics until you suddenly realized who it was that she was trying to shut out. you had assumed maybe an ex or maybe even a family member would have been the culprit, but the long silky black hair that glimmered through the gap in the door quickly corrected you.

“caitlin?” you questioned just as your friend had before. you stood back a few feet front the door, although your voice was loud enough to make the both of them stop.

their heads both whipped in your direction, the door creaking open wider so you could see her in full view. your friend huffed, rambling about how she thought you were asleep and how she was sorry that they had woken you up. but you discarded her as your eyes locked with your girlfriends. there was a certain look of grief in her eyes, the color almost fogging over in despair. your head told you to look away, the sight too depressing to stand, but your heart yearned for her nonetheless, unable to tear your eyes from her.

“YN” she spoke. it was like a cliche movie scene, like out of a fairytale, when the prince sees his princess in her natural beauty for this first time. whist she was hardly a prince and you hardly looked the part of a princess, the feeling was all the same. that feeling of reassurance and love. you were here, right here in front of her in your pajamas and bunny slippers, and suddenly she felt some sort of relief wash over her.

you walked over to them, assuring your friend that it was ok and asking her to give you some privacy. she walked away hesitantly after giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze. she shot caitlin a disapproving glare as she disappeared back into the house. you ushered caitlin to follow you out to the front porch, motioning to the swing that croaked in the afternoon breeze.

“what’re you doing here cait?” you asked, not looking at her, as you settled on the swings cushion, using your foot to keep it from rocking back and forth “i thought we agreed to take some time”

she took the spot next to you slowly as if not to scare you off, she worried she’d mess this up with you. she so badly wanted to reach over, rest her hand against your thigh and feel the soft skin of your palm rest atop it. but she opted for her own lap, picking at her nails mindlessly.

“i know,” a sigh that had nestled deep in her chest had finally met its release when she began “but i couldn’t take it anymore. this week has been fucking torture for me…i had to see you”

sadness washed over you for a moment, like the sun in a day of mist when it has nothing to shine upon, only dissipating when you felt her shoulder brush against yours. there was almost a faint smile on the corner of your lips, you’d also missed her touch over these past few days. but reality was cruel as it brought you back to the present moment.

“it’s torture for me too” you admitted. you despised being away from her, constantly yearning to be with her whenever she was away.

“really?”

“of course” you snorted, shaking your head as you look out across your friends lawn. you eyed the hydrangea bushes that weaved its way through the porch railings, the patches of yellow that spread through the grass-what a statement to question “i always miss you when we’re apart, why wouldn’t i?”

it sounded stupid to say, you realized once the words left your mouth. nothing you had done would insinuate you missing her, especially leaving her to wallow in your apartment alone, if anything it did quite the opposite.

“cause i’ve been a fucking asshole” she blurted “i wouldn’t miss me either to be honest”

she wasn’t lying, she was an asshole. the pain and loneliness that you endured over the past several months were dreadful, and she was finally ready to admit that it was all her fault. there were no more excuses to hide behind, not when your relationship was at stake. as she reminisced on the many years you’d been in each others lives, she found no reason to validate her behavior. you were everything she could ever need, ever want, and she was taking that for granted.

“nothing could stop me from missing you, cait”

a bitter taste filled your mouth as you anxiously responded to her. you’d been biting down on your lip so hard that you had started to bleed, barely even noticing it through the stiff tension between you. it was silent again for a while as you both pondered on your next moves. should caitlin beg for your forgiveness, get on her knees in front of you and cry? or maybe it should be you, convincing the both of you it was a misunderstanding and you should just forgive her and go home? you’d been straining yourself with your own stubbornness and you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up. part of you wanted to hold your ground and let her know that you wouldn’t except this treatment, but the other part of you just wanted to fall into her embrace and forget about the whole thing. but before you could conquer this battle within your brain, caitlin beat you to it with a rapid burst.

“baby, i-” she said, stoping herself to think-was she even allowed to call you that anymore? her tongue clicked and her eyes squeezed shut, this feeling of guilt was insurmountable “i can’t tell you how sorry i am. how much i regret everything”

she sounded defeated as she fought to get the words out, a whimper threatening to spill at any moment. her nose stung as she sniffled back cries. she thought she’d never get through this, that she wouldn’t even be able to look you in the eyes. but to much of her dismay, your delicate hand met with hers, forcing her fidgety fingers to relax. she turned her head to look at you through damp lashes, and finally seeing your sparkling eyes looking back at hers, found the courage to continue.

“i get so…caught up in myself, and i forget about what’s right in front of me. practice, games, all the hate i’ve been getting recently-christ everything just starts beating down on me and i get so lost. i isolate myself and i push away anyone who tries to break through this damn wall i’ve put up..and when they do..i just end up hurting them” she watched your face contort as she spoke, your lips turning downward to a sympathetic frown. you were always too sweet to her, too good for this world “and that’s what i’ve done to you, the most amazing person in my life and i won’t ever forgive myself for it”

“honey..” the pet named rolled off your tongue effortlessly. caitlin would be lying if she said that hearing it didn’t put her mind at ease. you stuttered, trying to find the words yet again, but she urged you to let her finish.

“i’ve let my shit get in the way of loving you the way you should be. there’s no excuse for how i’ve treated you since the move to indy-not tough games or being homesick or any of that-and i’ve regretted every minute of it. you don’t deserve to go to bed alone just because i was upset, o-or to feel like you have to deal with your stuff by yourself…i know moving has been hard on you, especially since your entire family is back home…and the fact that i haven’t been any support to you is unacceptable and i take full blame for that. and for everything else too, like making you feel neglected? it’s fucking breaking my heart knowing that that’s what i’ve caused, that i’m never around and that i’ve been the furthest thing from a girlfriend. we’re supposed to be a team, we are a team, and all i’ve done is let you carry the weight of both of us. i’m so incredibly sorry and i’ll keep saying it until you believe me”

her chest rose and fell ever so faintly as she breathed deeply. she had run out of air as the words left her in a haste, eager to get her apology out. these past days were spent planning each word, each motion, each action so meticulously and she needed it to work.

and with her final huff, there was a gentle silence again, the wind chimes hanging from your friends porch ceiling clinked softly together. you removed your hand from caitlin’s, letting it rise to her and face and resting it on her cheekbone. the pad of your thumb rubbed into her soft skin, feeling the prominence of her defined cheekbone. she felt warm, probably worked up from the heightened emotions, but it was soothing in a way.

“i believe you, cait” you breathed. you felt her instantly relax into you, the weight of her head pressing into your palm. her eyes fluttered shut and her brows furrowed, she felt undeserving of your reluctance “and i know you’re sorry, it’s okay”

“it’s not” she mumbled against your hand “it’s far from okay. and i’m going to do everything i can to gain your trust back”

“you’re right, it’s not. but i know you’re actually sorry…and you don’t need to gain my trust back, babe. you’ve always had it” her lips quirked when she heard the lighthearted tone of your voice “you really hurt me, and these past few days have been straight from hell. but the fact that you came and owned up to it all shows me that you’re going to work on it”

she nodded frantically, agreeing with every word. because it was true, she’d go the extra mile to ensure you never felt like this again.

“i can’t imagine a world in which i’m not spending eternity with you..so i’m willing to forgive, but my heart won’t be able to bare this again and i need you to promise me it won’t happen in the future. i know you have so much going on in your life, you’ve gone through a lot, but it can’t continue to get in the way of us. i’m here for a reason, to listen and to help in any way i can. please talk to me instead of shutting me out-i want to be there for you okay?”

“of course, i’m going to be better. for you. you deserve more than what i’ve shown you and that’s far from how i want to be, we’re in this together and i want to change. i love you so fucking much and it’ll never happen again”

with a hand still on her cheek and a smile tugging at your lips, you leaned in closer to her. the denim of your jeans rubbed against the swing cushions as you moved nearly into her lap, close enough to press your lips to hers. you could tell the kiss caught her off guard when you felt her body jolt, but quickly relaxing when she fell under your enchantment.

it was a feeling that was hard to explain, like a flame being reignited or a spark nestling in the depth of your chest. you hadn’t kissed caitlin in quite some time, and when you did all that time ago, it had felt meaningless. but here it was different, the taste of jovial tears mixing with that of your lips, creating a rejuvenated feeling of love and adoration. there as a kick to this kiss as she pulled you in deeper, her hand coming to the back of your head to cradle you. it felt good again and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“i love you too”

Come into my bedroom

Come into my bedroom

it had been about a week or so since you decided you were ready to come home and work on healing your relationship with caitlin, and it had already been going better than you had expected. even though the conversation on your best friends porch went smoothly, you had only imagined the fights and anger that would be exchanged once you came home. but caitlin had shown quite the change already and you could already feel the rips and holes of your relationship beginning to mend. she had been just as doting and soft as she was at the beginning of your relationship.

she was treating you to candlelit dinners, drawing you the most relaxing baths, and fitting time into her schedule for you no matter how long it might be. she even took you golfing with her and was dragging you along to outings with the team and occasional press events. you hadn’t felt this excited in a long time, it was like you were crushing on her all over again.

for the first time since your life started in indiana, the little things were beginning to matter.

and now it was a quiet weekend night in, the plushness of the living room carpet weaving between your bare toes as caitlin’s hands rested quaintly on your hips. the furniture had been been pushed off to the outskirts of the room in order to give your bodies plenty of space to sway freely. the overhead light fixture had been long forgotten once the evening sunset began to bleed through the window, creating the sweetest source of light. the old record player, the one you brought with you when you moved away from home, sat on the the table in the corner as it spun yours and caits favorite album. the tune hummed quietly as its scratchy notes bounced off the walls, yet it was perfect for a night like this.

maybe it was cheesy, the way you and caitlin rocked side to side as you danced in your pajamas to sappy love songs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. it was like a page out of the romance novels you read in high school. you were convinced this was all you needed in life, no luxury clothes or fancy dates, just you and caitlin soaking each other in as you danced around the apartment. it healed something in you as she spun you in her arms, laughing heartily when you stumbled. she was finally back to being your caity girl once more.

“what?” you giggled breathlessly after catching yourself from almost falling, pushing a loose strand of hair out of your face. she was staring at you when you faced her again, dimples evident as she grinned at you. her eyes had a softness to them, similar to the softness of her hand that snuck under your shirt to lightly pinch your side.

"nothin'" she shook her head with a wavering sigh "you're just...everything i've ever dreamed of, and i don't know- i just can't believe this is real"

she seemed choked up, in genuine disbelief that you were standing right in front of her, and it made your heart melt. it was moments like these that you craved, where her walls came down and she was completely herself with you. no pressure to look strong or tough, no holding back tears or true emotions, just pure love.

"of course it's real cait" you titled your head with an appreciative pout. you pulled her in with a comforting hand to the back of her head, leveraging yourself on your tiptoes to place a kiss to her forehead "what do you mean, baby?"

"like," she tried to find the words as she cleared her throat "like i can't believe that you're still with me. i don't know anyone who would stay through anything like the pain i've cause you. and the fact that you're right here in front of me, been so patient with me and understanding...i just feel so undeserving"

"hey, of course you're deserving" you politely scolded "we all make mistakes and sometimes they're bigger than we intend. but i love you more than words can describe and i know you've been trying to mend them. everyone has rough patches in their relationships, but i'm here to stay, caitlin. i'm not going anywhere"

you watched as her shoulders fell drastically; it was apparent that your words meant more than you had originally thought. she had always need reassurance, having always doubted herself in anything she did, and it was an unmatchable feeling knowing that you were the one to soother her. she nodded, not saying anything as leaned into you even more. so, you confided, not prying for a response. this vulnerability was already a big step for her.

you rested your forehead against hers, arms coming to loop around her neck. her long lashes fluttered as they tickled yours. the music was still playing in the background, allowing you both to fall into another oscillating rhythm. although it was cut short again when you felt her lips part, a quiet voice barely escaping her.

"it was you" it came out almost inaudible, leaving you confused on whether you hear her correctly or not.

"hm?"

"it was you," she said clearly this time, foreheads till touching and eyes shut in romantic bliss "from the second we met i knew it was going to be you. like a soulmate or life partner..whatver you want to call it, i just knew that you were going to be it for me"

as you stand there, your heart races, the world about stops spinning. each syllable strikes a chord deep within you, resonating with the echoes of past moments you’ve cherished with her. you could hear those words over and over and never get tired of it. The weight of uncertainty from the past months finally lifts, replaced by an exhilaration that makes everything else fade into the background. nothing else mattered anymore, no stress and no disdain for the road ahead, just you, caitlin, and an eternity together.

"you're it for me too," you said "in every lifetime"

-

A/N: FINALLY!! it's finished!! i definitely didn't spell check this, so if you catch any mistakes, feel free to DM me so i can fix it! i love you and thank you for your patience with this fic :')

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Shirt On.

Pairing/Au: Sub!Joel X soft dom f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 4645

Rating: + 18, MDNI, NSFW. I’m not joking with this one, if you’re a minor please stay away from it.

Summary: Joel getting pegged by you while you wear his flannel shirt. That’s it, that’s the fic. LOL

I know it's not everyone's cup of tea but if you decided to stay, the rest is under the cut.

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, smut with feelings, established relationship, established dom/sub dynamic, sub!Joel, soft dom f!reader, reader wears jeans and a top (and of course Joel’s flannel), has breasts and vagina but apart from that no other specific description of her is given, pegging, use of a double strap-on, mention of plugs, lube, edging (m receiving) , orgasm control, oral (f receiving with the strap-on), mention of anal play, squirting, a little bit of nipples play (m receiving), ass slapping, swearing, dirty language, mention of threesome, mention of nipple clamps, mention of Joel conservative environment as a child (? I don’t know, i imagined that), a whole lot of fantasies made explicit, pet names (mostly good boy, honey, baby), use of “mommy” once, Joel is so soft and needy in this one, reader is cheeky, brief Tommy appearance, mention of alcohol consumption, I think that’s all but if I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

I love sub!Joel so much and and I've been thinking about writing it for a long time so here we go!

It’s my first sub!Joel fic and pegging fic, I’m so nervous about it, I really hope it’s good and you will enjoy it.

One inspiration for this fic was this work by @milla-frenchy : Her, if you haven't read it yet and you love sub!Joel RUN to do it because it's amazing and she’s so talented.

The other one was the sex toy described lol

As usual, English is not my first language, no beta and no proofreading so it’s all my fault, I apologize for any mistake.

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated, I would love to have some feedback on this (please, be kind) !

Thank you so much for reading❤️

Joel is unloading materials at a construction site when he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket.

He puts the brick pack down and rubs his hands on his jeans, takes out his phone and unlocks it. There is an unread message from you. 

“Baby, I’ll wait for you at home at 6. Don’t be late” 

He quickly types a reply and sends it to you. “Yes, ma’am.” 

He smiles. 

He had never done anything like this before, but with you everything was different right away. 

——————-

When he first met you, at Tommy’s birthday party, he thought you were a wonderful creature. 

You were talking to someone he doesn’t even remember unlike your bright smile, your contagious laugh, your breathtaking body and your impossible-to-miss charm. 

The pair of jeans you were wearing hugged your hips and waist perfectly and your tight top highlighted the curve of your tits so deliciously that his mouth started watering instantly at the sight. 

You turned to him probably sensing his eyes on you and your eyes weren’t even close to be intimidated or embarrassed. 

You held his gaze fiercely and he knew in that moment that you were going to be troubles in the best possible way. 

He had always been quite successful with women but he suddenly felt like someone destined to remain on the bench who has to compete with the team's star player.

The challenge excited him anyway, he decided he had to find out something about you.

He entered the house and found Tommy busy opening a bottle of wine. He asked him who you were and he replied with a smirk, "Maria's coworker. Why do you ask? Do you fancy her?” 

“I don’t even know her!” he retorted. 

“Yeah but you think she's hot” he stated raising one of his thick eyebrows and looking at him with a sardonic grin.

Joel snorted “I knew I shouldn't have told you anything”

Tommy bursted into laughter and said nothing else.

And he didn't do anything, there was no need. 

Joel couldn't imagine it but you know exactly what you want and you know how to take it.

He was at the buffet table taking a beer when you approached tantalizing him “You think you’re going to ask me for my phone number or not?” 

“Why?” He tried to play it cool and nonchalantly.

“Well you've been staring at my ass all night, so… either you want to know where I bought these jeans or you like my ass, cowboy, what do you say?” you waited, delighted by the state of confusion you had caused in him.

He hadn’t expected it in the slightest, no one had ever been so cheeky with him.

And then you added “The thing is… I like yours too, so we could do something about it”.

Of course you sneaked off the party and you immediately jumped at each other in Joel’s truck after finding a fairly isolated spot along the road, sloppy kissing and hands everywhere like you were both starving. You haven't even made it to his house.

Of course you ended up sharing contacts because you just had had the most incredible sex and wanted more. 

Many dates and many months later you moved in together.

The harmony between you two was strong from day one and never changed.

You know how much he needs to have his coffee in the morning, he knows how you love your eggs, you know he always fail to put his dirty laundry into the basket in the laundry room, he knows he’s the one that has to take care of the garden because you have absolutely zero skills and you kill the cacti too. 

The domesticity between the two of you always feels like the most precious gift.

You talked many times about what you like in bed and you have confessed to Joel that you love to be the dominant part in the relationship. 

Joel had no difficulty accepting and embracing it, he is happy that you are the one taking the reins. 

He is always in charge at work, his construction company is doing really good and has several employees, he is used to being the boss and making decisions all day long. His mind is sometimes so tired of that that coming home to you and let you decide for him allows him to shake off all the stress that is weighing him down.

“This is actually good for my own peace of mind” he told you “I feel free” 

You have set rules and boundaries and you talked throughly about what you want and don’t want from this dynamic. 

You both respect and understand each other. You love each other like there’s no tomorrow, Joel told you he has never been this happy before.

And experimenting with him is the most exciting things in the world. He’s prone to it, even more than you thought at the beginning. 

So when you brought up to him that you would love to try some anal play he accepted straight away. 

He told you that he had done it before, he had never been on the receiving end but he was more than happy to do it with you.

You’ve proceeded by step, experimenting with your fingers, while he fucked you senselessly like you wanted to, then it was Joel himself who suggested trying a plug. 

“You sure about that, babe?” you asked “I'm happy that you want to indulge with me in this but I wouldn't want you to do it just for me”

“No,” he assured you, with the sweetest smile “I’m not doing this just for you, even though you know how much I like it when you’re satisfied. I love what you do to me with your fingers and I think I’d like to… um… try something more.”

“okay then, let’s dig into it” you replied with a little smirk. 

He grabbed your laptop and you searched online together, sitting on your couch with your head resting on his shoulder as you explored site after site giggling together in total complicity.

You can’t forget the thrilled look on his face as you decided to order a trio of plugs in different sizes.

And you can’t forget the moans he made the first time you tried it. 

The trust you’ve built has made it truly special. Joel knows he can abandon himself to you, you’ll never do anything he doesn’t want and you’ll always take care of him as much as he does with you.

Joel’s protective side makes him sensitive and attentive to your needs. For everyone else he’s just a somewhat grumpy, reserved man and a tireless worker, but for you Joel is the most thoughtful man you’ve ever known.

He is amazed by the patience and delicacy you put into getting him where you want him to be, and you’re completely fulfilled by how much of a good sub he can be. 

Sometimes he gets denied for days and it’s all about you coming repeatedly on his tongue or he’s only allowed to watch as you masturbate, other times you ask to be fucked several times a day or you demand to see your tall, broad, strong and gorgeous man bent over on your bed while you play with his ass.

Every session was pure bliss, he was a little bit flustered to try the biggest plug but he ended up getting an orgasm that was out of this world. 

And now he's ready to try the strap on, which makes you incredibly wet just thinking about it.

As with the plugs, you chose together which one to buy and once you decided you were both so excited that you allowed him to fuck you and come inside you after a whole week of chastity, edging and ruined orgasms.

___________

Joel leaves work at 5:30, gets in his car and curses all the way home against the traffic that threatens to make him late. 

He parks in the driveway and opens the door “I’m here, my love” he quickly says as he puts his keys on the cabinet in the hall. 

“I'm in the kitchen, babe, come here”

Joel rushes to your command and the sight of you leaves him speechless. 

You're standing in the middle of the kitchen wearing only his flannel shirt left open and the strap-on you both chose. The leather straps wrap around your hips and a large dildo stands out between your legs.

“It came in the mail today,” you smile at him, extremely pleased by the rapt expression painted all over his face.

“Oh fuck, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen” he breathe, his eyes feasting on your body. 

He loves it when you wear his clothes, he loves seeing you walk around the house in his shirts and wearing his boxers and he loves it even more when you let him watch you masturbate in just those.

He tries to get closer to you and you raise one of your arm stopping him “no, wait, not yet. Look at me a little longer” and saying that you take the big cock in your hand and begin to stroke it slowly “talk to me darling, tell me more about how it seems to you”

“It's big,” he gulps “and it looks great on you.”

You have chosen a type that stimulates both of you, so you have a dildo inside you. With each stroke you feel it penetrate a little deeper, widening your walls.

“What else?” you coo “What would you like to do now? Would you like to suck it?”

“Yes, my love, I would like that, please.” 

He’s fixed on your hand moving on the fake cock. 

“Eyes on me, baby, what else?” you gently scold him

His look shifts immediately on yours as he answers you huskily “I wish you would fuck me with that. Please”

You move closer to him, without stopping touching the dildo, you raise your hand to gently stroke his raven curls lightly streaked with silver “Oh, I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby, I’m going to split you open and you’re going to be the best boy, right?” 

He closes his eyes, abandoning himself to your caresses and he whispers “yes” 

You tug his hair “louder, babe” 

“Yes, my love” 

“Perfect. Kneel down for me, now” 

He immediately goes down, in front of you, on the kitchen floor.

“Take this cock, babe, make it all nice and wet” you purr

You put your hand back in his hair and bring him closer to it.

You can see a sparkle in his gaze as he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue to lick the tip.

You feel a shiver of pleasure run through your body seeing him like this, malleable like clay in your hands, on his knees, hungry, totally involved in what you were doing, so endearing and beautiful. 

“More, baby, show me how good you are” 

He opens his mouth wide and bends over the cock starting to make it disappear into his mouth, his lower lip trembling slightly. 

He raise a hand to grip the base but you slap it and say firmly “take it fully in your mouth first” 

He frowns and he gag a little when the tip bumps on the back of his throat but immediately gather his control back. 

“good boy, now suck. You can use your hand on mommy’s cock” 

He looks up at you in gratitude as he circles the base with his fingers and begins to suck greedily.

The entire length is now coated in his saliva as he moves up and down on it continuing to suck and every time he goes down, the dildo inside you hits a deeper spot making you moan just as much as he does. His big hand is all wrapped around the silicone cock, the other sunk into your hip above the leather straps and his grunts are like the cherry on top. 

You continue to praise him and he’s enraptured by your gaze and you can clearly spot his cock hardening in his pants, it strains against the hem of his work jeans. 

“You like that huh? So good for me” 

He swirls his tongue around the tip and goes down flat on the underline and swirls around again taking the mushroom between his luscious lips and sucking on it.

He’s still fully dressed and yet you could swear you could come just by seeing him all engrossed in sucking your big fat dildo.

His nose hits the end of the cock bumping into your clit as he tries to put it all back in his mouth, gagging around it, trails of saliva slide down his chin, your thumb smear it all over his jawline “Just like that, baby, keep going for me”

Your fingers are tangle in his curls and you push him down the length arching your back, making him gasp for hair, his eyes start watering a little but he keeps sucking. Pressure is building on your clit at every brush of the base on it and the other end sink deep into you all slick and soaking wet with your juices. He’s basically masturbating you sucking the dildo.

You’re about to give in and you convulsively yelp “don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, Joel”

He sucks at an even faster pace, stroking the base and lingering on the tip every time he comes up.

You toss your back and shut your eyes closed, overwhelmed by your first orgasm washing over you, panting hard and feeling you knees buckle.

Joel continue to suck quietly until you regain the ability to speak.

“You’ve been very good, darling” you coo “get up for me now”

He let the dildo slide out of his mouth with a lewd pop and stands up and you order: “turn your back and put your hands on the table for me.” 

He does so and you lean back and wrap your arms around his waist. You close your eyes and enjoy his warmth as you try to calm down.

“Well, we have discovered a new talent in you” 

“I- yes” he mutters

“Don’t be shy baby, there’s nothing wrong with sucking a dick” and you leave a trail of kisses on his back 

“You’re right” His voice is uncertain, as if he had just realized how much he liked it.

You move to look him in the eyes “it’s all good, honey? do you want us to stop here?”

He shakes his head.

“Words, baby”

“No. No, my love” 

“Good. You know you can always use the safe word, right?”

“Yes. Yes, I know… I was just thinking…” 

“What, honey? Talk to me” you stroke his arm trying to reassure him, peering into his big brown puppy eyes.

Joel grew up in a conservative environment and you know that he distanced himself from it as soon as he could and he is certainly sure he can tell you what he would like, you decide but you always allow him to express himself. 

Every now and then a kind of reticence resurfaces in him, and it melts your heart the way he tries to fight against the beliefs that were put in his head as a child.

“Do you think we could try a threesome sometime?” 

You giggle lightly caressing his cheek “Sure, we could do that. Why were you so afraid to ask me?” 

“I didn't want you to think that you're not longer enough for me. I mean you’re perfect, absolutely perfect and I love you and-” 

“Babe” you interrupt him “it’s okay. It’s your fantasy and I find it hot too. Would you like to do it with another guy?” 

“Yes…uhm..I would”

“Mmmm God, that would be so hot, you trying a big meaty cock…deep in your throat”

He blushes instantly at your words and the corners of his mouth curl into a smile “I- yeah, I think I would love to try”

“I would masturbate while you do it and then I would let you fuck my cunt while the other guy’s cock would go deep in my mouth. How does it sounds?” You lewdly whisper to him.

“Oh fuck- yes” he reply, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

“You’re such a dirty boy, I love that. How do you get so good at sucking anyway?” you ask him mischievously

“Well, I learned something by watching you, you’re the best at it.” he states with a proud tone. 

“Mmm you’re such a flatterer. Now shut up and let me play” you tenderly scold him kissing his lips “unbutton your pants” 

His hands fiddle with the button and the zipper and as soon as he’s done you order “put your hands back on the table”

You leisurely slide one hand into his pants and make room in his boxer to reach his already hard cock.

You flick the tip with your fingertips gathering his precum and you slide over his length wetting it, you can feel his breathing thickening and a sigh of relief leaves his mouth.

You pump him until he reach the edge, throbbing in your fingers, then you stop, a muffled sound of impatience run through his lips. 

You smile, your gaze chained to his “keep calm, love”

You take a small remote control out of the flannel shirt pocket and show it to him. “Look what I have”

He mumble “oh my fucking God”, his voice cracks a little and your lips curl, even more pleased “I forgot about it” he admits. 

“Yeah, it’s going to be fun” you giggle “let’s go to our bedroom now”

He immediately follows you and once in the room you lean on the piece of furniture in front of the bed and you demand “take off your clothes” 

He does it slowly as he knows you like it, first boots and socks that he throws in a corner, then his jeans that he leaves lying on the floor and finally the shirt, that also ends up on the floor at the foot of the bed. With every part of his body revealed to your eyes you lick your lips thinking that you will never get used to seeing such beauty. His broad shoulders, his wide chest, tiny freckles scattered on his skin, his narrow waist, his slightly soft tummy, the thin line of hair that ends up hidden by his boxers, his meaty thighs… you can never get enough of him.

He remains in a pair of boxers, standing in front of you. “Good boy, take them off and lie down on the bed,”

There is sweetness in his gaze, trust and a desire to abandon himself, at this point you can read him like an open book.

You're taking off the flannel you’re wearing when he looks at you pleadingly “Can you please keep it on, honey?”

“You like seeing me like that?” You smirk

“I do. You’re so damn sexy” 

“Okay, baby, I can do that” you grant and he smiles gratefully.

Once he's lying down you take the lube from the nightstand and then you climb on the bed right next to him, your fake cock still shiny with his saliva.

His naked body is still and waiting for you, and you take his cock back in your hand “you did so well for me” 

“I’m glad, my love, thank you” he whispers

You pinch his nipples with your other hand, pulling and twisting them between your fingertip, teasing them while you keep stroking his lenght slowly. 

“God, I love your nipples, baby, they drive me wild, so pink and turgid and delicious.” 

 You run your tongue over his chest sucking them into your mouth. 

“I think we should try nipple clamps sometime, would you like that?” you say before taking back one of his buds between your lips. 

“Oh - God, yes. Yes, please, my love” 

His moans go straight to your cock-covered clit, you feel it hardening against the soft and smooth silicone.

You know perfectly well that he is much stronger than you and could easily tip you over onto the bed and trap you with his weight, but he won't.

This awareness makes you feel powerful and the mere thought of how far you can go with him and still be safe makes you dripping wet.

You take him back to the edge again and then you stop, his cock is throbbing and the tip is angry red and leaking profusely. 

His hips slightly twitch a couple of times and you can tell how desperate he is for a release but he knows that he can’t come until you say so. 

You start pumping him again after a couple of minutes and you can hear the stifled moans crowded in his throat as you take him on the edge again. 

He’s such a mess of sweat and cries and glassy eyes but he’s managing to remain still like you ordered to.

“I can’t believe I have such a good boy all for me” you purr “You want my big cock in you? You want that?” 

“Yes, please, my love. Please” he whines. 

“Turn around for me like the good boy you are” 

He turns around and you take the lube squeezing a good amount into your hand, spreading it all over his hole, caressing it gently and penetrating it with two of your fingers.

He cries “please” 

“Don't be impatient” you say firmly slapping his ass cheek, leaving a red mark. 

“I’m sorry” his voice is hoarse and deep and you can hear his struggle in every single word which is such a turn on, he wants you so bad. 

He’s so excited and needy that he basically cries and the sound of his voice reverberate into your ears like a music.

“So sweet, my big boy crying for cock” 

“I want- please. I want it so much, pl- please” he’s bucking his hips against the duvet and you slap his ass again.

“Behave, baby” you order “stay still for me” 

You linger a little longer in his hole, moving your fingers slowly. 

“You have the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen, you know that? Is it ready for me?”

“Yes. It’s all yours, love, please take it” he begs. 

When you finally place your body behind him spreading his ass cheeks with your hands and poking at his entrance with the tip, he leaves out the loudest groan you’ve ever heard from him. 

The inside dildo is still hitting you the right way and in this position you can feel it even deeper than before. 

“You okay?” 

“Yes - oh - yes, love it”

“Good” you whisper caressing his hips “we’re almost there, baby. You look so gorgeous like that, Joel. So fucking gorgeous”

You keep pushing the cock inside him, until you’re balls deep inside and you start moving, thrusting into him while the other end thrust into you.

“You’re doing so good, Joel, so good for me”

He whimpers while you brush against his prostate, lifting his butt to feel you even more, you could swear you’ve never seen anything more intoxicating.

You take the small remote that you placed on the bed and turn on the vibration at the lower setting, just enough to add that little buzz into the already overwhelming sensations you’re both experimenting.

Joel lets out a “fuck” so deep and hoarse, you feel him clenching around the cock and the vibration hits your clit and your inside too and you almost lose it.

You take a deep breath and focus on him.

“Just like that, you love taking this cock, don’t you?” 

“Yes OH GOD YES - I think - I think I’m almost c-” 

“Sssh not yet, baby, don’t be to greedy, hold it until I say it” 

You pump harder and his body tenses, you can see every muscle in his back flex while he tightens his hands on the sheets underneath trying with all his might to hold back, his face leaning in profile sinking into the mattress, little drops of sweat beading on his skin, his plumped lips open in search of air letting out moan after moan.

He’s almost incoherent by now, just babbling please and fuck and begging you to let him come and you can feel yourself getting right on the edge.

You get out of him to change positions as you fear of losing control because of the vibrating dildo inside you slapping at your walls “Turn over on your back for me,” 

He turns around immediately, you make him lift his legs and rest them on your shoulders and then you go back inside him with a single thrust “OH FUCK” he wails “fuckfuckfuck” 

“Yeah, baby, do you like watching me fuck you with your shirt on? You like that, huh?” his look is ecstatic as he reply “Yes - GOD- fuck - you’re so beautiful” 

You start to pound again against his prostate, deeper into him with each movement, your tits bouncing and obscene slapping filling the air mixed with the buzzing of the dildo, until you can’t fight your orgasm anymore.

It’s too much, all too much, the vibrations, the dildo crushing on your cervix, and the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen all worked up and sweaty between your legs, just losing his mind for you.

“Come baby” you order in a breath “come for me” and he throw his head back on the mattress rolling his eyes and lets himself be invaded by a devastating orgasm right after your command, long spurts of his cum painted all over your tummy and his shirt.

You can feel his whole body shaking and you hold on to his ankle as you hastily pull out with the other one and squirt all over the dildo, drenching the duvet underneath you.

You’re completely shattered and exhausted but totally appeased, no thought left in your brain but a complete state of serenity that mostly comes from the fact that you can be completely you with Joel, no disguise, no mask, no filter is needed when it comes to him.

You turn off the the dildo and let it out him, you throw it on the empty side of the bed and lie down in his arms, it’s all you want and it’s all you need now.

He welcomes you and holds you tightly as you both try to get your breathing back to normal, you abandon your head on his chest and you feel his heart beating fast behind his ribcage. 

After a few minutes of silence he is the first to speak “that was…fuck…I don’t have words. Thank you, love”

You tilt your head to look at him and he’s smiling with his entire face, his eyes sparkling and his cheek flushed and his adorable dimple showing off. 

“I love you, Joel” you murmur and your mouth reach the bald patch in his beard to place a kiss there. 

“I love you too, honey, so much you have no idea” and he gently takes your lips. 

“I’m sorry, your shirt got wet” the final part is practically stuck to your skin, soaked in sweat, cum and squirt.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind at all. We’re both sticky and sweaty but we can think about that later”

You laugh and kiss him again, nibbling on his lower lip.

When you break the kiss there is a question you feel curious to ask him “Joel?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“I have a question” 

“Shoot”

“Why do you like it so much when I wear your clothes?”

He gives you a sweet and slightly shy look as he replies “For starters, they look sexier on you and then…it makes me feel like you’re mine in some sort of primal sense, you smell like me and I love that you have something of me on you”

You giggle.

“Did I explain myself?”

“Yes, yes you perfectly did, honey” you reply hiding your head in the crook of his neck and inhaling his woody citrusy scent. 

He smells like home, the only one you truly feels to belong to.

[morganas-pendragons]

Tease | Celebrimbor

This is a 2nd person version of something @pentaghasm and I wrote. I miss writing. (I’ve been obsessed with Shadow of Mordor)

****

“Y/N….”

You beam as you duck behind the table containing his tools, his creasing hammer poised between your fingers as Celebrimbor pursues you across the forge. The rest of the Gwaith-I-Mírdain have retired for the evening. That has left the two of you alone, and Celebrimbor refuses to retire to your shared chambers.

“You,” Celebrimbor laughs in disbelief as you lightly tap the end of his nose before spinning out of the way so he can’t pull you into his embrace. It is the first time that you have been able to catch his attention since Annatar has arrived. “Can have this back when you submit, my love. You can’t work if you don’t have the proper tools!”

He crosses his arms across his chest and narrows his eyes.

“You wish to play this game? Let’s play.”

“Oh, so now you’re taking that as a challenge? What if I just told you that you simply work too much and I want to spend it with you?”

You grin from the other side of the Forge. Just behind you is the table that holds Fëanor’s hammer. You have half a mind to take it and run as far as possible across the city so it will force him out of the forge.

Though he cannot deny the stirring he feels at her antics, he buries it for the moment. “I have certain duties as the Master Smith,” Celebrimbor protests sternly. “Certain responsibilities as the Lord of Eregion.”

“Really now?” You ask. Your fingers wind around Fëanor’s hammer as you watches him approach, but you cannot find it in you to move yet. “And however will that work if I’m to be your wife someday. There’s not supposed to be secrets between us, you know.”

You have purposefully done this to antagonize him, and it’s only for one reason: You have never seen Celebrimbor riled up and you really want to.

“That may be. However, there are responsibilities that even you are unaware of.” Celebrimbor moves with a speed that most have never seen from the Lord of Eregion, stalking toward you with a fire in his eyes. “My hammer, please.”

“And if I say no?”

He steps forward, crowding your personal space and backing you up against a workbench. “Then I may need to resort to other means.”

“Careful. You’re going to ruin Mirdania’s space. You know how she likes to keep it!” You exclaim.

He gives you a long, calculating look. Before you can do anything else, Celebrimbor traps your arms behind your back in one smooth move. You would be lying if you said it didn’t gasp at the motion and feel your knees begin to weaken beneath you.

Fëanor’s hammer clatters to the ground. The other hand is pressed against the small of your back, and you’re so thrilled by the turn of events that you look up at Celebrimbor expectantly. His hair has fallen from its usual precise styling, now a mess of loose curls that allows several to hang solely over his forehead.

Oh.

Celebrimbor leans forward, close enough to kiss you, but instead goes to your ear to murmur lowly, smirking, “I believe this means I win, my dear.”

“Oh no.” You tilt your head and kiss the shell of his ear. Your breath fans warmly across his cheek. “I don’t ever give in without a fight.”

Celebrimbor somehow summons the strength to resist a full body shudder, stomach twisting with desire that steadily grows in his belly. He shifts his hold on you to allow his mouth to descend to your neck. “Two can play at this game.” He growls softly. You know each other too well. This is a dangerous game to play, especially in the forge.

“I will not acquiesce to your demand,” You swallow the knot in your throat, desperately trying to keep your composure and your grasp on his creasing hammer. “Not when I simply said you need to come spend time with me away from the forge. I will run across the city with this hammer if I must.”

His mouth is still busy with your neck, his tongue trailing over the most sensitive part of your neck that makes your knees tremble.

His hands, however…. He reaches around and deftly maneuvers your empty hand between you, and you can feel the effect she has on him. Celebrimbor cannot keep the desire out of his voice as he speaks, hoarsely, “It’s rather a bit late to run, you naughty thing.”

‘’I never wanted to run,” You murmur, breathing heavy. He has you right where you want to be. He could do anything to you and you would gladly accept. “I just wanted you to pay attention. Did it work? I can surely-“

“Don’t you dare,” Celebrimbor growls. He’s then hoisting you over his shoulder and striding toward his private chamber. He enjoys the squeak of surprise that you cannot stop from escaping her lips. Celebrimbor deposits you on his chaise and then turns to shut and then lock the door. The look on his face when he turns back toward you is.. wicked, to say the least.

“You, my dear, have a lesson to learn.”

[thevanillerose]

TITAN II | YANDERE!AIZEN x TINY!READER | BLEACH

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators. Content Warnings: Yandere / Kidnapping / Giant/Tiny / Violence A/N: Request [10/10] for my 100 Followers Celebration!

The final request, and it’s another sequel! I’m happy Part I was a hit, and that I have an excuse to write more Yandere!Aizen because that man…that man…

He gets a whole lot scarier in this part so you’ve been warned.

Your glass prison was maddening.

The cushions beneath you were soft enough, but you yearned for your real, actual bed. You were given food, water, all the sustenance required, but none of it you could enjoy. The box was minimalist, clinical, and yet it felt like a gilded cage. Always with the same view. 

His room. The room of the giant who had captured you. 

No amount of screaming or pounding against the walls had drawn anything more than an amused glance from Aizen, who had since settled into his chair with his ever-present calm composure, sipping tea as if your capture were no more significant than securing a rare artifact.

He didn’t care. He didn’t empathize or sympathize. 

He liked it. Seeing your hopelessness. 

You paced back and forth, your tiny fists clenched, your mind racing with possibilities. There had to be a way out—there had to. You couldn’t accept this as your fate. You wouldn’t. But every time you turned to assess the glass walls, the towering figure beyond loomed in your periphery. Aizen’s gaze never strayed far, his sharp hazel eyes tracking your every move.

Even when he wasn’t present (which was a rarity) you were scared to try your luck. Any time you had, it never ended well for you. The bruises and bite marks were indicative. While he may not have gone as far as trying to kill you, clearly preferring to keep you alive, he had still done enough to start whittling away at your will. 

“It’s futile, you know,” his voice cut through the silence, and your thoughts, like a blade, smooth and composed. He leaned back in his chair, setting down his tea with a soft clink. “You’re wasting energy flitting about like that. Save your strength.”

You froze mid-step, glaring up at him. A little anger flared, despite your nerves.

“You can’t keep me here forever. Someone will come for me. They’ll find you, and when they do—”

“They’ll what?” he interrupted, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Do you think anyone would dare challenge me here? You came because you believed yourself strong enough to defeat me. And yet…” He gestured lightly toward the glass box. “This is where that belief has brought you.”

His words stung more than you cared to admit. You wanted to believe you were tougher than this, but you had to be honest.

You’d never been more scared in your life. 

Still, you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter. If you just stayed determined enough, maybe you’d be able to find a way to get the hell out of here.

Maybe.

…

Later…

Aizen spent much of his time in this clinical looking excuse for a bedroom, seeming to have put most of his sinister plans on hold, or in the hands of other enemies, so he could dedicate his time to you.

It was a kind of torture. At your new size, it was all too easy for him to pick you up, push you around, squeeze you in his fist just to hear you squeak. You began to realize he had a twisted sort of love for you which had only become prevalent now. His fingertips would linger and caress on your skin in such tender patterns sometimes. He’d get this strange, blurry look in his eyes…

He wanted you. In ways you never would have expected. 

And how long he had, you didn’t know. 

Things could only get worse from here, that was something you were certain of. If this kept up, you were literally going to break. Somehow, in some way, you needed to find a way out of here.

Your opportunity came after Aizen had fed you at the usual time. At exactly midnight, much as he did at midday, he opened the box and lowered a meager portion of food inside, diced to a size you could kind of swallow. Of course, you didn’t make the mistake of trying to climb his hand to get out. Your abdomen still ached from the time you’d tried before, and he’d flicked you like a bug.

Such a simple, easy motion for him. An absolute gut punch for you. Literally.

So, no funny games. But…he had been a little neglectful this time around. You noticed the faintest gap between the glass lid and its frame after he set it back in place, and walked out of the room. 

Your heart leapt. It wasn’t much, but it was something. 

As it was midnight now, the gigantic menace had to rest. Surprisingly human, for such a monster, to lay down and rest his head against the pillow below him with such a peaceful expression. 

Now’s the best chance I’ll get.

Quietly, you made your way over to the cushion corner closest to the gap. Taking a deep breath, you crouched down low, built momentum, and jumped up with all the strength you could muster. It took a few tries, a lot of effort, but you managed to reach and hook your fingers around the hard edge of the box. 

Grunting, the soles of your bare feet slipping and sliding as they tried to find grip against the glass, you managed to haul yourself up and squeezed your body through the gap under the lid.

Finally, you slipped through. Jumping down, you landed on the desk with a delicate thud.

Freedom.

Now, you just had to get the hell out of dodge before he found you.

If he did…

If he did…

A horrible chill struck through your petite little body, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, shuddering with fearful thoughts. You didn’t want to think about it. 

The vast desk stretched out like a white wasteland, but you were focused on the edge, on freedom, on escape. Running over, you sought some way down that wouldn’t leave you dead on the floor as a crumpled mess, but his room was minimalist enough there was nothing stray you could cling or jump onto.

And, it was too late anyway. 

You could feel his presence before you heard him—like a storm cloud gathering behind you. You didn’t even have to look.

“Going somewhere?”

His voice, smooth and low, cut through the stillness like a blade. You froze in an instant, every hair on your body standing on end. Slowly, with a dread that made your stomach churn, you turned to see him.

Aizen was awake, standing right over you, his figure dipped in shadow. His hazel eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, boring into you with a mix of amusement and something darker. The dark cast chiseled shadows on his bare, muscled chest.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” he asked, his smile stretching into something sharp, something cruel. His tone was cruel yet calm, almost bored, and you trembled. You stumbled back instinctively, panic clawing at your chest. 

Think of an excuse! Think of an excuse!

“I-I wasn’t—”

“You weren’t what?” he interrupted, his voice dropping an octave. “Weren’t trying to run? Weren’t defying me? Lying doesn’t suit you, little one.”

Just run!

You bolted abruptly, running for the edge, desperate for something, anything, even willing to take a leap of total faith if that was what it took—but you’d barely made it two steps before his hand descended. 

His fingers curled around you, the force of his grip knocking the air from your lungs and throwing you backwards. You thrashed and kicked, your tiny fists pounding against his skin, but it was like hitting solid stone.

“Pathetic,” he murmured, lifting you to his face. His smile had vanished, replaced by an expression of cold fury. Any amusement was gone. He was plainly pissed.

“Do you know how insulting this is? I could have killed you long ago. A horrible death. Yet I spared you. And this is how you repay me?”

His grip tightened, the pressure making your ribs creak. You gasped, struggling for breath, your vision blurring as panic set in. “P-please,” you choked out, your voice barely a whisper. “I-I’m sorry—”

“Sorry?” His laugh was sharp, bitter, like the crack of a whip. His thumb jammed up sharply against your gullet, choking you, forcing your head back like he might snap it off entirely.

“No, you’re not sorry. Not yet.”

Without warning, he slammed you down onto the desk, the impact sending pain shooting through your body. You screamed, but there was no time to recover. His hand pinned you in place, his fingers pressing down just enough to make you wheeze. 

“You need to understand something,” he said, his voice calm and deliberate, but his eyes burning. “You belong to me. You are mine. And I do not tolerate disobedience.”

He lifted you again, your body hanging limp and aching, holding you by the waist, his grip tighter this time, his thumb pressing against your chest now, invasively, in a way that made it even harder to breathe. 

“And yet you insist on it,” he said softly, his tone almost mocking. “Disobeying me. Trying to leave me. Do you want me to punish you?”

He tightened his grip again, the pressure making your vision go white. You clawed at his fingers, your body writhing in desperation, but he didn’t let up this time. Tears streamed down your face as you gasped for air, the world tilting dangerously around you.

He’s going to crush me! He’s going to…kill me!

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice soft but cold. “To see how far I’ll go? To test the limits of my patience?”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t beg. Your body struggled feebly, your breaths shallow and ragged. He watched you intently, his expression unreadable, before his grip loosened just enough for you to suck in a desperate gulp of air.

“You’re lucky,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “I could end this right now. One squeeze, and it would all be over. But that would be too easy…wouldn’t it…”

His dangerous gaze flickered aside suddenly, to the edge of the desk. It was easy for you to see then, the cogs in his mind turning maliciously, and dread took hold.

“Aizen–”

Swiftly, he swung you over the drop, dangling you in the open air, only his pinching thumb and forefinger keeping you from a deadly plummet. Your heart stopped, your body going rigid as you stared down at the distant ground. 

“A fall from here would kill you,” he said, his tone almost conversational. “Shall we see how far you can fly?”

“NO!” you screamed, your voice raw with terror. “P-please, don’t—!”

His smile returned, sharp and wicked. “Then remember this feeling,” he said softly, pulling you back to safety. “Remember what it means to defy me.”

Lifting you before his handsome, huge face, you saw his lips curl into a relaxed, smug smile again, his gaze hooded and raking slowly over your little form, his breath heated when he spoke.

“It would be a shame, if I lost my precious little pet so soon.”

You swallowed thickly, flushing, looking away. The tip of his finger guided your head back to look at him again.

“I still have so many things I want to do to you…”

‘Do to you’.

Not with you. To you.

You felt sick. You didn’t even want to imagine it. 

“You’ll never try that again,” he said, his voice soft but malice-filled. “Because next time, I won’t be so merciful.”

His fingertip moved from your jaw to your heated cheek, gently dabbing away the tears that now wouldn’t stop falling. You sniffed and sobbed, giving up. 

Aizen, content with that, returned you to your prison, making sure the top was secured this time by placing a heavy book atop it. As he turned away to return to bed, you collapsed onto the cushions as well, your body trembling uncontrollably. Your chest heaved with ragged wails, which you tried to muffle behind your quivering hands so he wouldn’t be angered again. Your mind raced with fear and despair. 

He had been right about one thing. You’d remember this. You’d remember it every time you thought about running, every time you dreamed of freedom.

Because now you knew: he wouldn’t just stop you. He would break you.

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[fan-goddess]

could you write something with dom!aegon idk why i get the feeling that he’d be downright mean when he’s jealous 😵‍💫

Authors Note: Of course I can! I definitely see what you mean so I made him mean especially for you 😉 (also just realised this is my first Aegon request 😅)

Summary: Aegon doesn’t like it when you talk to his brother

Warnings: jealousy, spanking, dirty talk, P in v sex, orgasm denial, ass play if you squint, breeding kink (if I miss any let me know)

Taglist: @lovelykhaleesiii,

The ball has been the hands idea of uniting whatever support they had. A joyful occasion he had claimed. Yet when everyone turned up and the music tuned for people to dance to, no one did. It turned into a political evening where men would show there wives off and drink till there hearts content.

Your own husband was more leaning towards the second part. He’d left you early in the evening when a tray of a dornish red passed him and he chased after it eagerly like a wolf in the north would chase its prey, and as annoyed as you should be by his departure you cannot help but find it strangely endearing.

“I’m surprised my brother has left you alone, given his habits.” A voice breaks you from your thoughts, and when you turn around you are greeted by the face of Aemond.

“A certain Dornish Red took his priorities. Is Helaena not with you?”

“The noise and chatter, aswell as the stress of the babe became too much for her, so she’s gone to enjoy the company of the twins.” A rare small smile makes its way on Aemonds face at the mention of his dear wife and the children. It’s adorable to see the usual stoic and emotionless Aemond find such utter joy in the small family he has made for himself.

“Ahh. Give her my best when you see her next please dear brother.” You yourself cannot help but smile too. Helaena always seemed to have that effect on people. Making them adore her with no real intention.

Aemond and yourself talk like this for a while, with the only interruption being the refill of each others cups. You make sure to inquire on how Helaena’s doing as of late. The babe it seems is making her latest pregnancy more challenging than her time with the twins. Aemond reassures you though he is making her rest, as much as she protests to both his and your amusement.

Eventually though, the night begins to turn dark, and Aemonds eye seems to drift to something behind your figure.

“It appears my brother is done with that Dornish red…” He trails with a smirk. Your head turns with a smile, expecting to find Aegon with a kind smile. Only instead, Aegons face is practically thundering. His eyebrows are furrowed with a matching glare, but it’s not aimed at you. It’s aimed at Aemond.

The music that once loudly played throughout the hall, aswell as the overwhelming murmur of politics goes silent as Aegons eyes meet yours. He begins to make to make his way over to you both from the other side of the hall, and you can practically hear the thundering footsteps echo in your mind.

His eyes which whilst he walked were on you, now look to his brother with a thunderous look in them.

“Hello Aemond. You seem to be enjoying my wife’s attention an awful lot.”

“Yes brother. Me and her were just discussing how Helaena has been recently. You do remember her yes? My own wife?” Aemonds tone is one of a condescending nature. It almost makes you laugh. Yet only a hint of a smile appears. Both you and Aemond are well aware of Aegons possessive side. Sometimes the two of you would joke on how Aegon would sometimes wish to lock you in a tower and only he would have the key. Not that he’d ever dare do that of course.

Aegon eyes flicker to your lips as you quirk them, and with the rage you can slowly see festering in his eyes you know Aegon will most likely not forget it any time soon.

“It appears I have grown too much into my cups,” Aegon begins to say. His hand, which once clutched heavily on his goblet, now interlaces your fingers together tightly. “My wife I believe needs to fulfil her duties and escort me to our chambers.”

The look Aegon gives you, as well as the current grip that he holds, leaves no room for debate. He practically drags you by your arm from Aemond, with the latter laughing slightly whilst his brother does this.

When you arrive at your marriage chambers, one of the Cargyll twins is guarding the entrance, and turns to the both of you when he hears the thundering footsteps belonging to your husband.

“No one is to disturb us tonight Cargyll. No one to enter me and my wife’s chambers under any circumstance.” It’s not a suggestion, nor an ask. It’s a command with no room for disagreement. The guard nods his head with a murmured agreement, and steps aside to let you two in.

When you do both enter though, Aegon practically throws you in the direction of your shared bed. The thunderous look, whilst softened in your presence, still holds the same look of anger. “Get on the bed wife” He demands. While his eyes are soft, the tone he uses and the way his pants seem to tighten are not soft in anyway.

You follow his instructions obediently, sitting on the bed looking at him. He makes his way towards you, now towering over you while his fingers pinch your chin and lift your head to look him in the eyes.

“You weren’t acting very much like my wife at the ball today. You were acting like his wife…” By the way he hisses the word you know he’s talking about Aemond. Aegons always felt inferior to Aemond, and the sight of him making his wife laugh and be happy must’ve pushed him over the edge.

“I think I should punish you” he muses. His grip almost seems to tighten when he’s in thought. Though the mixture of the faint pain the grip gives and the atmosphere of the room makes a small whimper echo in the chamber.

Aegon focuses his gaze back to you at the sound. His mouth curving to a dark smile. “Flip you dress, hand me your smallclothes and bend over the fucking bed.” Again, there is no sympathy. Only a fake kindness and a dark intention.

When you take of your smallclothes, they’re already damp with how wet you are. Now they’re off, you can only run your thighs together to stop the slick from pooling on the part of the bed you lay on.

It’s only worse when you turn around to watch Aegon, and find him slightly sniffing your smallclothes before placing them in a pants pocket. “I think ten is a good number. Ten spanks for laughing and flirting with my brother?”

“I wasn’t flirting with him!” You snarl. A sudden burst of confidence hit you. It goes away though as quickly as it came though, as a sudden harsh slap is directed to your ass cheek.

“That one was for talking back to your husband. These ones I want you to count. If you can’t, we’ll start again.”

The first slap comes down hard and fast. You barely manage to utter the first number before his hand comes down on you again. He does this a few more times, giving various pauses both for you to moan a number and for him to get the element of surprise.

“What number are we on now little whore?” Your head feels like it’s working. So much so you’re barely able to utter the number. “Say it louder for me princess. Be a good wife for me…”

“It’s seven husband…” You whimper.

He praises you before making quick work of getting the slaps over and done with. Each time you whimper the remaining words louder with a whine. “Well don’t I have such a little whore for a wife…” His hand caresses the deep red skin that’s taken the slight shape of his hand, and laughs when you slightly edge away from him. “Oh no dear wife you stay right there. Besides…” The same hand travels from your ass to your soaking cunt. There’s no barrier between you two, so when his fingers swipe at your soaking cunt you cannot help but moan in denied pleasure. “It appears you fucking loved it either way…”

When you turn around, you practically feel yourself salivating at the sight of your husband slurping at the wetness he picked up with his fingertips. It only gets worse when you turn back around, and hear the sound of Aegon undoing his belt and the rustling of his clothes. You can’t help yourself from turning around again, and feel a whole new patch of wetness forming at the sight of his nude form. The stretch marks from his recent weight increase aswell as the marks and scars he received from battle were nothing but glorious to admire.

“I thought I told you to turn around?” He teasingly asks, slighting pinching the red skin he’d slapped raw earlier. You whimper slightly, but it’s quickly replaced with a sharp moan when you feel Aegon slide into you harshly, with no regards for your comfort.

He lifts your ass, so now he’s positioned you so it’s in the air while your upper half is slumped on to it bed. When he begins to thrust quicker and harsher, you can already feel your knees buckle under the weight and fierceness. Yet you can’t, as his hands grip your thighs tightly.

You don’t even realise your practically screaming his name at this point. It comes out in small bursts whenever his cock seems to magically brush against that spot inside you yourself can never reach.

That coil that’s been tightening ever since Aegon first spanked you is almost at its limit. Your almost there, about to feel utter euphoria… before the complete full feeling of Aegons cock is taken away and the coil inside you is quickly loosened.

Your head feels a strange sort of funny, and is unable to process what has exactly happened. Yet when you turn around to look accusingly at Aegon, his dark eyes are already tuned to looking at your unkempt and body.

“You will take what I give you wife.” Is all he says before he is back at it again, heavily thrusting inside you with no mercy. His hand reaches out and takes ahold of your bare throat, squeezing slightly so whilst you can still breath, there’s still some breathlessness.

“Do you think my worthless brother could make you feel as good as this?”he hisses. You can already feel your peak coming once more with the lack of breath Aegon provides you with. However, once again when you feel yourself about to reach a wondrous high, Aegon all of a sudden pulls himself out and smiles.

“Please husband! Don’t be so cruel!” You whine. Your cunt now feels sore, yet it still aches for more. When Aegon lightly hits you right on your pearl, you can feel yourself subconsciously clench on nothing and moan lightly in the sheets.

“As I said before wife… you take what I give you. Though maybe I have been cruel…” His tone is misleading. You have been married to Aegon long enough to know what that sounds like. Yet your mind cannot seem to pick up on that, only thinking of a possible peak you may or may not receive.

While you head is slowly surrounded by a faint cloudiness, you can feel Aegon slowly insert himself into you and pick up to a rigorous pace. You can’t even hear you see moaning and whining anymore from the buzz that only seems to grow more prominent.

What brings you back though, is the slight intrusion you feel on you puckered hole. You can’t even turn your head to ask Aegon what he is doing due to his hand still holding a firm grip on your neck. You can only find it within yourself to mumble some illegible words as your peak soon comes for the third time that evening. You do fear Aegon will deny you once more, but it seems your peaks arrival only seems to entice Aegon to be faster, to be harder in his movements. His weight is already practically holding you down, making it so only your wrists and head can really move.

It feels worth it, when the feeling of utter euphoria hits you. You clench harshly on Aegons cock, faintly feeling the wet patch that’s formed on the bed. Only it’s not over, Aegon is still pounding inside of you holding onto you firmly.

“A-Aegon w-what…” You mumble within a moan as the coil which only just unraveled is already tightening once more.

“You claimed I was being cruel?” His voice held innocence, yet even with your head clouded with an impending peak, you could tell his bullshit a mile away. Though the more he speaks the more the once innocent tone darkens to a more possessive one. “Now… I’m going to give you my cum. You’ll take it like the good and obedient wife of mine I know you can be, and who knows… maybe if I fuck a child into your tight cunt, they’ll know exactly whose wife you are…”

With the combined sound of his voice, the nudges Aegons cock is providing to your special spot, and Aegons single finger teasing and dipping slightly into your puckered hole, you’re not surprised at how quickly you are able to finish once more. You could feel your own juices flow out of you and drip down your legs. Your strength is long gone, so now the only thing that holds you up is Aegons thick arms.

Within the spasming of your cunt, you can hear Aegons loud groans echo in the room, indicating he’s close to his own release. His mumbles soon turn to rambles, which soon turn to near shouts. “You’ll take my cum, without spilling a drop, because you’re a good wife. I’ll breed you so all of this realm knows your mine by the seed that grows deep in your belly… yeah they’ll all see…” All near the same as his eyebrows furrow in a strangely beautiful way.

You moan slightly as you feel your inner walls get painted with Aegon cum. Though you quickly whimper in slight pain as the previous actions catch up to you.

Aegon grabs one of the many pillows that uselessly lie in your chambers and uses it to prop your lower half upwards slightly. When you turn to him with a lazy raised brow, he can only respond with, “Maester said it increased chance of you being pregnant. No idea how.” While he makes sure to find a comfortable position for you to sleep in, insisting on your lower half being up still to your annoyance. “It’s for the baby!” He just kept insisting.

It’s almost annoying when Aegon finds you a good position, and the exhaustion from the previous activities hits you quicker than you’d expect. It’s a wonderful moment, listening to the sound of your husbands heartbeat, and relishing in that Targaryen heat they all seem to possess.

You even find yourself lazily tracing a hand on your stomach, imaging it swelling in a few months, and making Aegon a father. That night while you slept, you had dreams of a little girl playing and giggling with Aegon, while she called him her kepa. You’d already decided on a name for her. Her name was to be Aelora. Aelora Targaryen, first of her name.

[writingduhh]

Omg, yes, I'm so glad I found your blog, I absolutely love ur writing! Anyways, I was thinking recently a lot about how ted or schlatt(separately) would do if readers cat hated them. Specifically inspired by my childhood male pet cat who hated all men for some reason, so like what if readers cat hated man too, including Schatt and Ted and how would the two cope with the cat, especially with a reader who loves their cat more than life and treats the cat like their baby.

-💣 Anon

Thanks so much! ❤️ and I love this idea! I hope you enjoy! I wrote for both of the boys, sorry of they’re similar i just wanted to make sure they were both meeting the request the best I could :(

X fem reader

❥ Jschlatt:

Schlatt had never been one to shy away from a challenge, but this was a whole different ballgame. Your cat perched on its favorite spot on the back of the couch. It glared at him like he was the ultimate enemy. And sure he’d faced some fierce opponents in his life, but none quite like this… A fluffy ball of fury with sharp claws and an aversion to his very existence.

“Come on, furball, what’s your deal with me, huh?” Schlatt muttered, holding out a treat. But as expected, the cat hissed in response, tail flicking with irritation. Schlatt glanced at you, half-amused, half-frustrated. “Your little demon hates me.”

You smiled sweetly from the kitchen, clearly unbothered. “He doesn’t hate you. He just… has trust issues with men.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Schlatt muttered, stuffing the treat back in his pocket. He watched as you moved around, your attention on anything but the cold war happening between him and the cat. It stung a little, mostly because you loved your cat more than anything, and Schlatt just wanted to be a part of that little bubble.

Later that evening while you were reading on the couch your cat curled up contentedly on your lap. Schlatt sat beside you giving the animal plenty of space. “I’m telling you, it’s personal. I haven’t done a damn thing, and he acts like I kicked him.”

“He’s just protective,” you said, scratching behind the cat’s ears as it purred in contentment. “He doesn’t know how amazing you are yet.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t feel that way.” Schlatt crossed his arms, his eyes locked on the little furball a mix of determination and affection in his gaze. “You love him, so I gotta get him to love me. I’m not giving up.”

The next few days became a silent competition between Schlatt and the cat. He tried everything, treats, toys, even soft-talking to the feline when you weren’t around. But the cat, true to form, would hiss, swat, or flat-out ignore his every attempt.

One night after you’d fallen asleep on the couch with your cat beside you Schlatt sat on the floor, staring at the sleeping ball of fluff. “I get it, alright? You’re her baby. But you gotta cut me some slack here, man. I’m trying.” He spoke quietly as if not to wake you. “I’m not going anywhere, so maybe... ease up on the whole hating me thing?”

To his surprise the cat blinked lazily at him, but there was no immediate swipe. It was a small victory.

The breakthrough came a few nights later when Schlatt found himself alone with the cat while you ran out for groceries. He sat on the couch scrolling through his phone when the cat jumped up beside him. Schlatt froze, not daring to make a move.

“You finally gonna give me a chance, huh?” He murmured. The cat stared at him for a moment then slowly curled up at the farthest end of the couch. It wasn’t much, but for Schlatt, it was a win.

When you came home, you found Schlatt grinning, pointing at the cat. “Did you see that? Progress.”

You laughed softly, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Looks like he’s starting to come around.”

Schlatt wrapped an arm around you, feeling triumphant. “I told you, babe. It’s only a matter of time before we’re best buddies. Just wait.”

From that point on, the cat’s hostility slowly lessened. And every time Schlatt got a bit closer, literally or figuratively, he’d look at you with that smug grin of his as if to say, See? Told you I’d win him over.

Because in the end, Schlatt knew there was no way he’d let a cat get in the way of the two things he loved most: you and your weird little family.

❥ Ted:

Ted had always considered himself a bit of an animal whisperer. Dogs loved him. Birds? Sure, they’d chirp at him from time to time. But your cat? Your beloved furball who, for reasons Ted couldn’t understand, seemed to despise him on sight? That was a different story.

“I don’t get it,” Ted said, standing a safe distance from where the cat was sprawled on your lap. The feline’s eyes were half-closed, but the moment Ted moved too close those eyes would snap open, ears flattening like a silent warning.

You giggled from your spot on the couch, running a hand through the cat’s fur. “He’s just picky. Besides, he’s never liked men. Nothing personal.”

Ted gave you a look, half-bewildered, half-amused. “How can it not be personal? I’ve been nothing but nice to him! Look, I even bought him treats.” He held up the bag of cat treats he’d picked up on his way over waving it like it was some peace offering.

Your cat of course was unimpressed.

“He’ll come around,” you said with a smile, completely confident in your cat’s ability to forgive. Ted, however, wasn’t so sure.

For the next few days, Ted became a man on a mission. If you loved your cat as much as you said you , and it was obvious that you adored the little furball, then Ted was going to win the feline over. That was just the way it had to be.

First, he tried some charm. He’d lean down, give the cat his most disarming smile and speak to it in the softest tone. “Hey, buddy. We don’t have to be enemies, you know? I’m a great guy. Your mom likes me. Maybe we could start over?”

The cat blinked slowly and then turned away, flicking its tail in Ted’s direction. He sighed.

Next came the food. Every time he came over Ted brought new treats, convinced that sooner or later, the cat would crack. But it seemed the feline’s hatred ran deep because not even the fanciest most expensive treats Ted could find would win him any favor. At most the cat would sniff the offering, glance at Ted with a smug “nice try” look then walk away.

You watched all of this with a mix of amusement and sympathy. “They’re stubborn,” you said one evening after Ted’s latest attempt at befriending your cat ended in failure. “But so are you.”

“Yeah but he’s winning,” Ted muttered, looking defeated as the cat curled up smugly on the other side of the room, far from him. “And I don’t like losing.”

Then one day while you were in the kitchen making tea Ted was alone in the living room with the cat. He sat on the floor, facing the animal, trying to bridge the unspoken divide. “Alright, listen up,” Ted began in a serious tone. “I get it. You’re the king of the castle. But I’m not trying to take your throne, okay? I just want to make her happy. And if that means you and I have to find some middle ground, then fine. Let’s do it.”

The cat blinked at him still looking unimpressed, but for the first time, it didn’t turn away.

Ted, feeling like he might have made some small progress, reached out carefully and the cat didn’t immediately swat at him. It wasn’t exactly purring in his lap but it was something. Ted’s heart swelled with hope.

You walked back into the room just in time to catch the tail end of the scene. “Wait, is he… is he letting you pet him?”

Ted grinned proudly, hand hovering above the cat’s head still wary but cautiously optimistic. “I think we’ve had a breakthrough.”

Ted glanced up at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Yeah, well, it only took me three bags of treats, a couple hours of groveling, and a motivational speech.”

But as if on cue, your cat did the unthinkable… He leaned into Ted’s hand, just a little, allowing the smallest of pats. Ted froze , his eyes wide in disbelief.

You gasped beaming at the sight. “He likes you!”

Ted chuckled his heart racing at the sight of your happiness. “Yeah, well, how could he not? I’m irresistible.” He teases

From that day forward, Ted and your cat were far from best friends, but there was a mutual understanding. The cat still gave him a hard time now and then but every once in a while, it would curl up near him. Even sometimes let him pet him without fuss. And each time that happened Ted would look at you with the biggest grin. Like he’d just won the world’s most important battle.

And maybe, in a way, he had.

[muiitoloko]

Hiii, may I req for either a colin firth/reader or harry hart/reader fic wherein theyre exes turned lovers? Thank u !!

Title: In the Line of Love

Summary: When duty demands they act as a romantic couple, Harry and his ex-girlfriend can no longer avoid the tension that simmers between them. Old wounds resurface, but so does the undeniable chemistry they once shared.

Pairing: Harry Hart × Fem! Reader

Warnings: implied sex, foul language

Author's Notes: Honestly, I had no idea what to write, so I just ended up putting together something short and quick. Sorry about that! My brain has been on a bit of a vacation lately 😅

Also read on Ao3

The tension between you and Harry was palpable as the two of you stepped into your cover roles, pretending to be the perfect, loving couple for the sake of the mission. It should have been easy enough—after all, you had done this countless times before with other agents—but with Harry, things were… complicated.

It had been months since you and Harry had dated, and though your relationship had started out with undeniable chemistry, it had ended in a mess of unresolved feelings and sharp words. The two of you had avoided each other ever since, exchanging only the bare minimum of conversation when duty demanded it. Yet, somehow, you were always paired together, as if fate—or perhaps Merlin—was having a laugh at your expense.

Standing in the lavish hotel room now, dressed to the nines for your cover as a high-profile couple, you couldn’t ignore the way Harry’s eyes lingered on you. His gaze was intense, darker than usual, and you could tell he was thinking about the same thing you were: the last time the two of you had been this close, both in and out of the bedroom.

“Still can’t believe Merlin thought we would make a convincing happy couple,” Harry muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with dry humor, though there was an edge of something else there—something deeper, darker. His brown eyes flickered to yours, challenging, as though daring you to respond.

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain the professional facade, but you couldn’t help the sharp retort that slipped from your lips. “Maybe because we used to be one,” you shot back, your voice low and biting as you adjusted the neckline of your dress. “Or did you conveniently forget?”

Harry smirked, the kind of smirk that made your blood boil and your pulse quicken all at once. “Oh, I remember,” he said, his tone dirty and teasing as he stepped closer, the air between you thick with tension. “I remember everything, darling. Every touch. Every moan. Every time I made you scream my name.”

You swallowed hard, hating how easily he could affect you even after all this time. “That’s all in the past, Harry,” you said, your voice sharp as you tried to focus on the mission, on the task at hand. But it was difficult when his presence was so overwhelming, when every inch of him radiated that same irresistible mix of danger and desire.

Harry chuckled softly, his hand brushing against your waist as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “You say that,” he whispered, his voice low and dirty, “but I can see it in your eyes. You remember too. How good it felt when I had you against that wall, your legs wrapped around me, begging for more.”

Your heart raced at the memory, heat pooling low in your belly as his words stirred something inside you that you had tried so hard to bury. You glared at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he still affected you. “We’re on a mission, Harry,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to keep your voice steady. “Focus.”

But Harry wasn’t backing down. If anything, your resistance only seemed to fuel him. His hand slid lower, resting on your hip as he pressed his body against yours, his lips brushing against your neck in a way that made your knees weak. “Oh, I’m focused,” he growled, his voice a low rasp as his fingers traced the curve of your waist. “But it’s hard to stay professional when all I can think about is how good you’d look under me right now.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you were both lost in the intensity of the moment, the mission forgotten as the unresolved tension between you flared to life. You could feel the heat of his body, the roughness of his touch, and it took everything in you not to give in to the desire that had always simmered just beneath the surface.

But you couldn’t. Not here. Not now.

With a deep breath, you pulled away from him, the heat from his body lingering on your skin as you stepped back. Setting your lipstick aside, you turned to face him, your anger flaring to life. "What the hell game are you playing, Harry?" you snapped, your voice sharp and accusing as you met his gaze. "Or have you conveniently forgotten that you were the one who ended things between us two months ago?"

Harry's smirk faltered slightly, but his eyes still held that infuriating mix of amusement and desire. He opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t give him the chance.

"No, don’t even try," you cut him off, your voice rising as you took a step closer to him, your heart pounding with a mix of fury and hurt. "You ended it, Harry. You walked away. You were the one who said it wouldn’t work, that we needed to ‘focus on the mission.’ So why the hell are you teasing me now? What, no other woman’s falling for your charm, and now you’re coming after me again?"

You could see the shift in his expression—surprise, then a flicker of something darker as your words hit home. But you weren’t done. Not by a long shot.

"Are you really that desperate to get your dick wet?" you hissed, your voice laced with venom as you stepped closer, your chest brushing against his. "That you’d come crawling back to your ex-girlfriend, thinking I’d fall for it all over again? Is that it, Harry? Are you so pathetic that you can’t handle the thought of being rejected by anyone else, so now you’re back here, hoping I’ll give in like I used to?"

Harry’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as he absorbed your words, and for a moment, the room was thick with the tension between you. He opened his mouth to respond, but you could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between his pride and his desire.

"Don’t flatter yourself," he finally growled, his voice low and dangerous, though there was an unmistakable edge of hurt beneath it. "I’m not here because I’m desperate. I’m here because I can’t fucking stop thinking about you."

You blinked, taken aback by the rawness in his voice, the way his usual confident facade seemed to crack for just a moment. But you weren’t ready to let him off that easily.

"Thinking about me?" you scoffed, crossing your arms as you glared at him. "Is that what you call it? Thinking about me when it’s convenient for you? When you can’t find anyone else to fuck?"

Harry’s eyes flashed with something dangerous, and before you could react, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you flush against him. "Don’t push me, darling," he growled, his voice thick with both frustration and desire as his lips brushed against your ear. "You know damn well that no one else can even come close to what we had."

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as his breath tickled your skin, his grip firm but not painful. And damn him, even in the middle of your anger, you could feel the pull—the magnetic attraction that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface.

But you weren’t going to let him off the hook that easily.

"Then why did you end it?" you whispered, your voice quieter now, though the hurt was still there, sharp and undeniable. "If no one else compares, why the hell did you walk away?"

For a moment, Harry didn’t answer, his jaw clenched as he stared down at you, his dark eyes filled with conflict. Then, finally, he let out a low, frustrated sigh, his grip on your wrist loosening as he stepped back, running a hand through his hair.

"Because I’m a fucking idiot," he muttered, his voice barely audible, though the bitterness in it was clear.

The confession hit you like a punch to the gut, the anger inside you wavering as you stared at him, unsure of what to say. You had expected him to argue, to throw more barbs your way, not to admit… that.

"Harry…" you started, but he cut you off with a rough shake of his head.

"Don’t," he muttered, his voice thick with frustration as he turned away from you, his shoulders tense. "Just… don’t."

The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound your ragged breathing as the weight of his words hung between you. You had expected a fight, a verbal sparring match like the ones you’d had before. But this… this felt different. More real. More raw.

And as you stood there, watching the man you had once loved struggle with his own demons, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, things weren’t as simple as you had thought.

You sighed, turning back to the mirror as you resumed applying your makeup, the tension from your argument with Harry still buzzing faintly in the back of your mind. You focused on the task at hand, trying to regain your composure for the evening ahead. In the reflection, you caught sight of Harry, pacing the room behind you, clearly trying to keep himself busy. His fingers trailed over his glasses, which had been resting on the bedside table, and with a quiet breath, he slipped them on.

You watched as he sat up straighter, the familiar gesture signaling that he was about to check in with Merlin. A moment later, you heard the soft tone of his Kingsman glasses connecting him to HQ, and his voice became all business—steady, professional, but still with that edge of charisma that never seemed to leave him.

"Merlin," Harry said in a low voice, glancing briefly toward you before focusing on the conversation. "We’re in position. The dinner’s in a few hours, and the target should be downstairs with his wife by then. No changes on our end. We’ll proceed as planned."

You continued touching up your lipstick, trying to keep your focus on the task and not on the way Harry’s voice stirred memories from the past. As frustrating as things had become between the two of you, you had to admit—he was still damn good at his job. Professional. Calculated. And frustratingly attractive in that sharp suit of his.

The mission was clear: get close to the target couple, make friends, and slowly work your way into their trust. It was a long-term operation, and neither you nor Harry knew how long you’d be in Sweden. The days could stretch into weeks, maybe even months, depending on how quickly you could gain the information you needed. It meant maintaining this façade of a romantic couple—a charade that was proving to be far more complicated than you had anticipated.

As Harry continued talking to Merlin, updating him on the latest details, you couldn’t help but glance at him again through the mirror. His posture was composed, his voice steady, but there was a tension in his shoulders that betrayed how much this situation was getting to him. Perhaps it wasn’t just the mission weighing on him—perhaps it was the unresolved feelings lingering between you.

You turned your attention back to your reflection, fixing the final touches to your eyeliner as you heard Harry wrap up the call.

"Understood," he said in that calm, clipped tone. "We’ll check in after the dinner. Galahad out."

The connection ended with a soft beep, and Harry removed his glasses, setting them back down on the bedside table. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the mission—and everything else—hanging in the air between you.

Finally, you broke the silence, your eyes still focused on the mirror as you adjusted the neckline of your dress. "So," you said, your voice casual but with an underlying tension, "romantic honeymoon, huh?"

Harry gave a small, dry chuckle, standing from the bed and straightening his tie in the reflection of the mirror. "Seems fitting, doesn’t it?" he replied, his voice laced with that familiar, teasing sarcasm. "Playing the part of the perfect couple, when in reality, we can barely be in the same room without biting each other’s heads off."

You smiled despite yourself, shaking your head as you put away your makeup. "Just stay focused on the mission, Harry. We need to get close to the target, not each other."

Harry smirked, adjusting his jacket. "For the sake of the mission, darling, I’ll do my best to resist your charms."

You rolled your eyes, standing up and smoothing out your dress. "Just don’t let your charm get us into any unnecessary trouble."

Harry’s expression softened slightly, his eyes flicking over you with an unreadable intensity. "Trouble seems to follow us wherever we go."

You didn’t respond, instead grabbing your clutch and heading for the door, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingered on you as you walked past.

The mission awaited downstairs. And whether you liked it or not, Harry would be right there beside you, playing the perfect partner in every sense of the word.

The dinner was lavish, a perfect display of wealth and elegance. You and Harry were seated at a round table, surrounded by the target couple and a few other high-profile guests, all of whom were oblivious to the real reason you were there. The conversation flowed easily, with laughter and wine, but underneath the charm and smiles, the tension between you and Harry simmered quietly.

He played the part of the perfect partner, his hand resting lightly on your lower back as he leaned in occasionally, whispering something into your ear that made you smile and nod along, all for the sake of the performance. But each time his fingers brushed against you, or his breath tickled your skin, it was like a spark igniting something that had never fully burned out.

You could feel his gaze on you throughout the evening, dark and intense, even when he wasn’t speaking. And though you tried to focus on the mission, on the task at hand, it was impossible to ignore the way your body responded to him—the heat that bloomed low in your belly every time he so much as glanced in your direction.

By the time dessert was served, you were both locked in a delicate game of cat and mouse. Harry's hand would linger on your thigh just a little too long, his touch sending jolts of electricity through you. You'd press closer to him when you spoke, your lips brushing his ear just enough to make his breath catch. It was all part of the act, but there was no denying that beneath the surface, the chemistry between you was undeniable.

As the evening wound down and the guests began to retire to their rooms, Harry stood and offered his hand to you, the perfect gentleman. "Shall we?" he asked, his voice smooth but with an edge of something darker—something hungry.

You nodded, placing your hand in his as you both excused yourselves from the table. Together, you made your way through the grand hotel, your heels clicking against the marble floor in the quiet hallway. The air between you was thick with tension, but neither of you spoke as you entered the elevator, the doors closing behind you with a soft whoosh.

The moment the elevator doors sealed shut, the carefully constructed façade began to crumble. Harry’s hand tightened around yours, and when you turned to look at him, the raw desire in his eyes made your heart race.

"How long do we keep pretending?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous as he stepped closer to you, his body towering over yours. "Because every time I touch you, every time I have to play the doting husband, it gets harder to remember why we’re even fighting this."

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as his words echoed in the confined space. "Harry…" you started, but the words died in your throat as he backed you up against the elevator wall, his hand bracing against the cool metal beside your head.

His breath was warm on your skin as he leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Tell me I’m wrong," he whispered, his voice rough and filled with a hunger that matched your own. "Tell me that you don’t feel it too."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your body aching to close the distance between you, but your mind fought to stay rational, to remember the mission. "This is dangerous," you murmured, though your resolve was quickly crumbling under the weight of his gaze.

Harry’s smirk was slow and wicked as he closed the gap between you, his lips brushing yours in a barely-there kiss that sent shivers down your spine. "Danger’s never stopped us before."

The kiss that followed was anything but tentative. It was fierce, filled with months of pent-up frustration and unresolved tension. His hand slid up your waist, pulling you flush against him as his mouth moved hungrily over yours, tasting, claiming. You moaned softly into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, desperate to feel more of him.

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal the empty hallway that led to your suite, but neither of you moved. Harry’s hand gripped your waist tightly, his lips still pressed to yours as if he couldn’t bear to pull away.

When he finally did break the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing ragged. "Tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice low and hoarse. "Tell me to walk away, and I will."

But you didn’t want him to walk away. Not anymore.

Instead, you grabbed his hand and led him down the hallway, your heart racing as you both stumbled into the suite. The door hadn’t even fully closed before Harry had you pressed against it, his mouth on yours again, his hands roaming your body with a desperation that mirrored your own.

Clothes were discarded hastily, the need between you too strong to wait. Harry’s hands were rough but sure as they explored your skin, his lips trailing down your neck as you gasped and clung to him, your back arching as he pressed his body against yours.

"I’ve missed this," he growled against your skin, his voice thick with desire as he nipped at your collarbone. "Missed the way you taste, the way you feel."

Your breath hitched as his hands slipped under the hem of your dress, lifting it over your head in one smooth motion. "I’ve missed you," you admitted breathlessly, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Harry froze for a moment, his dark eyes locking onto yours as if searching for something—some sign that this wasn’t just the heat of the moment, that there was more to this than just lust. And in that moment, you knew there was. There always had been.

Before either of you could speak, Harry’s lips were on yours again, but this time the kiss was different—softer, more tender, as if he was savoring the moment. His hands cradled your face as he kissed you deeply, and you could feel the shift between you, the chemistry that had always been there now igniting into something far more dangerous.

When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip, his voice was low and filled with an emotion you hadn’t heard from him in months. "We shouldn’t have ended things," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I was an idiot for letting you go."

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared up at him. "Then don’t let go this time."

With a low growl, Harry lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently before climbing over you. His lips found yours again, and as he made love to you that night, it was with a passion and intensity that left no doubt in your mind that this was more than just a rekindling of old flames.

This was the start of something new—something neither of you could walk away from this time.

[caustinen]

Omg I’m actually so in love with your Hollywood au 😭😭 do you have any headcanons for them? Like how they started dating, or what they do on a daily basis, general domestic things!!

Hi!! Sorry I took so long to reply but your ask sent me SPIRALLING — this whole au was such a random quick thing and I never expected it to go anywhere, but thinking of a response to this I got so into it I might actually manage to write something!

Just the first meeting hc got so ridiculously long that I’ll respond to the domestic hc’s (I HAVE SO MANY) on a separate post and tag you! Thank you for the inspiration luv 💘

HOLLYWOOD AU! First meeting:

Their first impressions are not very good… John hasn’t made it big yet but he’s definitely getting some attention so he decides to relocate to Hollywood and find a good PR-team around himself despite having always thought that the marketing/branding side of his profession is capitalistic nonsense — and while he has changed his attitude to the exctent of ”if you can’t beat them join them”, he’d still expect all the suits to be cold business men who don’t care about the art of it all.

Gale on the other hand expects all actor clients to be self-obsessed nepo pricks; he’s been climbing in the industry steadily for years and enjoys the challenge of bringing the best versions of people out and finding them their best options (he takes pride in being very good at what he does) but since initially he ended up in the industry through his love for film, he’s also often annoyed by the up-and-coming stars who only care for the fame.

Loud, relaxed and seemingly no-care-in-the-world John fits this prejudice perfectly, as does John’s expectation for an uptight, borderline rude PR-executive in a suit — at the end of the meeting he chooses a much more laid-back seeming guy called Brady to represent him, and Gale is relieved he’s not stuck with him, he really is, despite the teasing, annoying smile of that bastard refusing to leave his mind for the rest of the day.

Their second meeting is somehow WORSE, in a week or so a meeting runs long so Brady invites John to after-work drinks. Gale looks so different out of his suit (now in a white t-shirt and black pants that hug his waist tightly, hair mussled and curlier after a long day of running his hands through it) that Bucky is absolutely blinded for a second and goes to introduce himself flirtily. Gale stares at him for a bit before informing him they met last week and while John is able to laugh it off with the others, this doesn’t exactly help with Gale’s image of him (why can’t i get that smirk off my mind when he couldn’t even bother to note me??)

It doesn’t help that Bucky gets very drunk and keeps seeking his company, not caring he’s only receiving grunts as reply to his stories told draped over the blonde’s shoulders as Gale sips on his non-alcoholic beer (he also shares the Buck story and starts calling him Buck like in the show), and whatever progress John might’ve done to make him almost smile a couple of times is undone immediately as he flirts with everyone else just as much when he leaves Gale’s side, cementing him in Gale’s mind as a playboy who’s gotten a bit too into his own head with his modest success lately and decides to forget all about him.

After that they run each other a couple of times at the office and social gatherings, and things are civil enough, they chat briefly each time but there’s some strange tension between them that makes Gale uneasy and John confused and a bit frustrated because he usually gets along with everyone but this man just seems to be immune to his usual charm; he can’t understand why the man is seems so cold and barely ever speaks up, that sweet smile he rarely sees him show others is completely wasted on him in his opinion.

They only properly meet again at a premier of John’s new movie a couple of months down the road, the first one under Gale’s firm, and end up in the backroom between the red carpet and John walking into the theater post-film (Brady is busy with organizing everything) and it’s TENSE, they’ve never been in a room by just the two of them and John is obviously nervous wreck which makes him antsy and Gale isn’t making any effort to make small-talk to ease his nerves (he’s not a natural at that okay, and esp with John he doesn’t know what to say)

Only when John is basically doubled over on the couch groaning into his hands as the film approaches its end Gale is forced to interfere. ”Why are you so upset?” ”They’re gonna hate it.” Gale is thrown off, never expecting to see this vulerable side underneath all that loud confidence. ”They’re not gonna hate it.” John scoffs. ”And how would you know?” Gale frowns, annoyed. ”Listen, it’s not Casablanca but you had to know that walking into the project, and you give it enough life to keep the tension up ’till the end. This is your best work since Thorpe Abbotts so just sit back and relax.”

John stares at him, mouth open, despair forgotten for a while. ”You know my work?” he asks, blindsighted, and Gale blushes and turns away. ”Maybe. I go to most films they show in my local theatre so don’t make too much of it.” John doesn’t have time to digest the words properly before he’s ushered to take the applause of the crowd, but it stays with him.

Things shift after that. John starts to pay attention to what Gale says, and realizes while he might speak rarely, when he does it’s always meaningful and thought-out. When Brady wants to make him do some new audition tapes he asks him to bring some of his collegues for second opinions, and he’s satisfied to see Gale roll up to the little studio they’ve rented one afternoon.

Wanting to impress Gale apparently works wonders because he feels like he reaches a new level with scene they’re working with, and the feedback reflects this. Even Gale gives him an approving nod, which somehow sends butterflies down his insides.

He turns his show-off when they go for drinks as a group next time to actually have a conversation with the blonde, and it turns out Gale is OBSESSED with old hollywood — whenever things were bad in his childhood home (often) he’d hide himself into the world of fiction of all kinds, and he’s seen an obscene number of films and loves learning trivia about it too, film star biographies are his favorite genre of books. He used to go to his little local movie theatre so much he was eventually offered a job there and could help with picking the movies, but his brief dreams of being an actor were never realized as he knew he needed a less pecarious job to give himself the stability his childhood home didn’t offer.

Learning these pieces of information draws John even more facinated with him, and Gale seems to be laughing at more and more of his jokes too. Once Gale lets his guard down he has also started to see John underneath the bravado, and makes mental notes to check out the books he recommends and he might even lightly flirt back these days, secretly enjoying the those dark, observant eyes fixed on him and squeezing into a surprised smile.

All in all, it’s been going better for a while until a faithful day, when they’re doing another auditiong tape. Bucky’s been rejected from a film he really wanted earlier that day, and his previous film has gotten some lukrwarm reviews upon getting into streaming services, so he’s in a shitty mood, and the unimpressed faces Gale keeps making annoy him to no end.

They call it a day and they agree to meet at a bar closeby to start the weekend and get everyone’s spirits up. The beer only serves to make Bucky more upset tho, espescially when he sees Gale hitting it up with someone who walks up to him, laughing at his stuff and looking relaxed in a way he never quite does with him. A bit drunk and a lot angry he follows him to the bathroom, Gale noticing him as he walks in with the same swing of the door. He turns around and greets him, the smile from talking to that whatever dude still lingering on his lips being John’s final straw.

”Oh, so you can be happy? Thought it was fucking impossible to achieve.” Gale’s smile immediately drops and his posture shifts, arms crossing over his chest. ”What are you talking about?” ”You’re always making those faces no matter what I do. You’ll ruin your pretty face with all that frowning.” ”What on earth are you-” ”When I try to talk with you. Or when I do a scene and you’re supposed to help but you just keep looking at me like I’m an idiot. I don’r get it.”

Gale starts to get upset too now, something John has never seen before, his calmness finally breaking. ”What do you want me to say?!” ”I don’t know, be fucking supportive for once?!” ”I am being supportive by being honest! Do you think that was the best you can do?” It surprises John, but he’s already too worked up to back down. ”Well what if it is?” They’ve gotten closer to each other in the empty men’s room, and Gale’s hands are no longer crossed, he’s pointing at John’s chest and staring him down. ”You have so much goddman potential, John Egan, and it’s killing me to see you waste it like that. Reach for something bigger. Get more complex charachters, more nunaced scripts. If it takes you hating me to hear that then so be it.” John scoffs despite the blush trying to creep to his cheeks. ”Well since you know fucking everything maybe you should help me find those roles.” ”I’m not your agent, or your publicist, or your mom, or your boyfriend, I don’t see how it’s any of my-” They’re practically yelling at each other, and without thinking John takes the wrist of Gale’s hand poking his chest to his and pushes it down so they’re chest to chest, noses almost touching, so close they’ve gotten. ”Maybe you could just help me out if you didn’t hate me so much.” John isn’t yelling anymore, and all of Gale’s nerves are on fire, he can feel John’s breath on his cheeks, his own pulse pounding in his chest. ”I don’t hate-” And that’s as far as he gets before John crashes their lips together, the small movement inevidable as the sun coming up each morning.

Gale makes a muffled sound into the kiss and goes to grab his shirt, pulling him closer as John reaches to cup the back of his head. The kiss is just as messy and teethy and perfect as the months of growing tension between them has promised. Gale wants to climb him and bite him and drag him down the floor, his own desire punching air out of him as John stumbles until his back hits the wall, his big hand protecting his head from the hard impact. They are lost in it until their lips are swollen and bruised and they’re both more than half-hard after being pressed so tightly together, and Gale bites his abused lips to silence a moan trying to escape him as John dips down to suck and lick on his sweaty neck, his own hand tangling in his curls and pulling and feeling victorious as John makes a choked sound. He pulls until their eyes meet again, and he’s sure his own pupils are as big as John’s as they stare at each other for a moment, both of them trying to catch their breath like they just ran a marathon. ”You drive me fucking insane,” Gale grits at him, and John laughs a short sound. ”I drive you insane?! You’re the one prancing around… Being all, you know, intelligent and sexy with your James Dean features and Paul Newman eyes.” Gale stares at him for a little bit, mouth open, before pulling him into another kiss.

They go back to Gale’s eventually (Gale comes back to himself enough to realize he does not want to be caught with all his collegues on the other side of the bathroom wall) and they make out for a while more, little less heated but just as passionate, but when it’s getting more intense again John has a moment of clarity and pulls away. He’s drunk and tired and overwhelmed and he doesn’t want this to be just a hook-up. Gale understands but asks John to stay the night anyway and he ends up sleeping on his coach that night. It’s a bit awkward in the morning because neither of them really knows what to say and John’s just about to leave, thinking this was a mistake after all, when Gale suggest they’d watch a movie, and the nervous hope in his face grips John’s heart enough to realize there’s no walking away from what he’s started to feel for this man. They watch a film, and another, and by the third the funny commentary both of them make has shifted into the movie playing in the background as they make out, Gale in John’s lap, and it feels right.

John ends up staying the whole weekend, they just watch films and make dinner together and get to know each other. John is scared he’ll overstay his welcome but Gale makes it feel natural, and the exciting newness of it all is addicting, and perhaps exactly because they’ve had to overcome so many of their own prejudices about the other everything feels more vibrant and exciting. Seeing Gale relaxed and smiely and silly and nervous as he rolls his eyes at him when he sings along to the radio as they cook makes his heart miss a beat. He’s completely prepared to not go further than kissing for now but after a delicious, footsie heavy dinner on Sunday evening at Gale’s kitchen they finally end up in bed, and it feels just right that their first time together is slow and searching and absolutely perfect, and they get the final confirmation that their chemistry seems to be working out pretty fucking well.

After that weekend, John never accepts a role without running it by Gale first (they often read them together naked in bed on the weekends, making each other giggle while dramatically imaging the scenes while leaning into each other amongst the fluffy pillows), and within a year he’s a rising star and his name is on everyone’s lips, but he’s only got one pair of lips in mind.

It isn’t just smooth sailing after that either, navigating a relationship and his career and the publicy, but as slow as their love might have started it’s all the more steady for it, and it never stops growing.

SORRY THIS GOT SO INTENSE!!! Literally all of this came to me as I thought how to respond to your ask so thank you for being a major motivation 🖤

[svt-luna]

HAPPY NEW YEAR, MY LOVES 🥳🎉🎊

as we step into 2025, i want to take a moment to reflect on the incredible journey we’ve shared since i started this blog back in august of 2024. it feels like just yesterday when i was nervously writing my first post about Luna and Jeonghan, not knowing if anyone would read my impulsive and bored ideas. and now, here we are— 2,639 of you beautiful souls, united by our love for this story. i am endlessly grateful for every single one of you!!

2,639?!!? TWO THOUSAND SIX HUNDRED THRITY-NINE?!?!?

i still haven’t wrapped my head around that fact. i love you. i am grateful for you. i appreciate you. i adore you.

in just a few short months, this blog has become something beyond my wildest dreams. it’s not just about the numbers or how fast we’ve grown (though WOW, it’s humbling); it’s about the connections we’ve built. through this blog, i’ve had the privilege of meeting so many wonderful people.

you’ve trusted me with your stories— about your struggles, your triumphs, and your lives. your bravery and openness have been such a gift. to those who’ve shared with me, you already know who you are: thank you from the bottom of my heart for trusting me. and to those i haven’t spoken to yet, i’m always here, ready to listen, ready to celebrate your triumphs, struggles, and stories no matter how big or small those are!

to my lovely anonymous messengers— though i don’t know your names, i see you. i see your kind words, your unwavering support, and the love you pour into this little corner of the internet. thank you for being a part of this journey, even from the shadows.

but as with every story, there have been challenges. there were moments when people doubted me, spoke down to me, bullied me, and tried to drag me down because of this blog— they still do. those times were hard. there were days when i questioned whether i should keep going. but then i would see your messages, your love, and your support, and suddenly, the weight didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

you kept me grounded. you kept me going. you reminded me why i started this in the first place. for that, i will always be thankful.

despite the challenges, 2024 was an unforgettable year filled with stories about favorite our bunny couple, Jeonghan and Luna. you laughed with them, cried with them, and fell in love with them over and over again. and let me promise you this— 2025 is going to be even better. i have so many exciting stories planned, and i cannot wait to share every single one with you.

so, here’s to the stories we’ve shared, the ones we’re about to write, and the community we’ve built together. thank you for making this blog a place where love, creativity, and connection thrive.

i couldn’t have done it without you, my lovelies!!

wishing you all a year filled with love, laughter, and endless inspiration 🩷🩷🩷

With all my love,

sel 🌙

[shadeysprings]

A Toast to New Beginnings

—Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary — Reconnecting with your childhood best friend was supposed to be a wonderful experience—until it wasn't.

Warnings — noncon/dubcon, drugging, implied kidnapping, childhood best friends to lovers with a dark twist, possessive Bucky and more that I could have forgotten.

Word Count — 1.7K

A/N — My second entry for @thebasementspouses The 12 Men of Christmas Writing Challenge. And it was such a thrill to write for Bucky again. As soon as I was able to choose what item to pair with him, my mind just went berserk. I mean, how could you not?!

Shoutout to my beta @sgt-seabass. But all mistakes are mine alone.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

“It’s really good to see you again, Bucky.”

The smile you give him is mirrored on his face as he takes your empty plate, stacks it with his, and places them in the sink.

It’s been years since you last saw him, years since you ran away from home and established a new life in the city. You thought he would be angry for leaving him, your only friend in your small town, after you had both promised to be there for each other no matter what.

Though life back then was tough and unpredictable. And as a teenager, it gave you no choice but to leave everything behind, to escape the hardships. Including him.

The years seem to have worn on him with the way he’s grown. You couldn’t believe that this is the same Bucky you knew who roughed up the kids that made fun of you, and stole lollipops from the local store just because you wanted them. He was reckless back then, a bad boy as the old women called him. But now, he seems like an entirely different person and yet at the same time familiar. Like home.

Gone is the long hair you’ve always known him to have, recalling how he beat up the boys who teased him for it, and loved how his mother would comb it out for him despite saying how much he disliked it. Now, his hair is neatly trimmed with the shadow of his beard just kissing his face. He’s also grown bigger; muscles bulged from his shoulders and arms, almost making his navy henley shirt too tight for him. 

Guilt suddenly swirls around you, twiddling your fingers together as you remain seated at table and watch him tidy up the kitchen. You even take the time to observe his apartment—a complete bachelor’s pad. But you can’t help but notice the small touches he’s added that reminds you of his childhood home.

He’s never brought up the past once since you met last week by chance at the grocery store. Never once has he shown any emotions of betrayal for what you’ve done. But with you, it’s all you’ve been thinking about after parting ways and agreeing to his invitation to reconnect.

“You remember my mama’s eggnog back then?” He says, disrupting your train of thought, a smile still ever present on his lips when you look up at him.

You smile once more, the memory washing over you like a wave. “How can I forget? She always made mine with chocolate.”

“You always were her favorite,” he laughs heartily. “Liked you more than her own son.”

“Well, she always did want a girl. And I’m the closest thing to a daughter she’ll ever have,” you say with equal mirth.

“Yeah, yeah. Go sit on the couch.” Bucky instructs with a playful inflection in his voice.  You stand from the dining table, already making your way to the living room. “I’ll bring you a mug before I give you your present.”

“Present?” That surprises you.

Taking a seat on the couch, you finally notice a small red box sitting on the low coffee table, your name written on the card. You didn’t know he was preparing something for you, and you came to his place empty handed. If the situation were different, if this were to happen in the past, you would have teased each other about it. But with so much time wedged between the both of you, you can’t help but feel another bout of remorse and realize how much things have changed.

“Here you go.” 

You look up at Bucky and take the offered mug, the warmth radiating in your palms. He joins you on the couch, a mug for himself in his hand, and a smile grazes his face when he takes a sip. His blue eyes cast over at you, curiosity present. 

“You’re sad.” He says, turning in his seat to face you completely. “Did something upset you?”

Placing your drink on the table, you clasp your hands tight and stare blankly into nothing. Of course something upset you. Everything since Bucky came back into your life upset you. It wasn’t because he was part of the past you wanted to forget but more so because you abandoned him.

Yet here he is, making you meals and your favorite drink, the gift adding to the pain that you desperately keep hiding deep in your chest. 

“Bucky— I—”

“You don’t have to say anything.” You look over at him when he interrupts, his mug now sitting beside yours. “You did what you had to do, I know. It took time to accept it, but I eventually did.” His hands then envelop yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. There’s a slight smile on his face, the same one that always brought you comfort whenever something troubled you. 

Slowly, he reaches over to give your cheek a gentle pinch, ultimately making you chuckle at the childish gesture. Your mug is placed between your palms, and he takes his all the same, sipping on it before nodding in your direction. 

“Go on. Mama’s eggnog always makes you feel better during the holidays,” he urges. 

“Well, she always made mine special,” you respond, sticking your tongue out playfully at him, and take a heavy gulp of the warm beverage. But your face twists when you swallow, a sour aftertaste scattering on the surface of your tongue that makes you look at your mug, then at Bucky. 

“Is something wrong?” He asks in concern.

“No,” you say, trying to appease him, but the cough you release lets him know otherwise. “Just— I don’t remember it being this bitter.”

“Shit. I must have added too much cinnamon in it.” There’s a frown on his lips as he stands from his seat, holding his hand out for the mug. “I can make you a new one if you like. Probably hold back on the cinnamon this time.”

“Oh, don’t bother.” You tell him, schooling your features as you take another sip. “It’s still good. But maybe I can have a glass of water with it?”

“Already on it.” 

You take another mouthful as he leaves for the kitchen, hoping to get used to the bitter aftertaste. But it’s an endeavor you stop, placing the mug back on the coffee table and instead reaching out for the red box to guess its contents. 

But your heart begins to beat at a rapid pace, hands shaking uncontrollably, and you gasp when you feel your muscles tighten then loosen altogether, making you lean back against the cushions of the couch like a wilted flower as you try to decipher what’s happening. You try to call for Bucky to help you in your mysterious ordeal, but no matter how hard you try, no words leave your lips. And in just a matter of seconds, you’re rendered helpless and incapacitated. 

Your eyes widen when you see Bucky return, eyes cast down on you as he sets the glass of water beside your mug. He says nothing, not even questioning how you’ve come to be this way, yet there seems to be no sense of urgency permeating through him. And instead, he lets out a chuckle when he takes your legs from the floor and lifts them up to the couch. 

“Well, what do you know! It does have a fast reaction time,” he says with a grin, taking a seat at your side and reaching over to caress your face.

What? He did this on purpose? But why?

Confusion runs wildly in your head as tears stream down your cheeks. You feel nothing yet everything all at once; the sound of his heavy breaths when he leans closer, the heat that flutters on your skin when he grazes his fingertips against it, and the sight of his intense stare, how the blue of his eyes grow bolder, the concern and, dare you say, love in them earlier replaced with hunger, possessiveness and something darker.

“After years of waiting, I finally have you, my Dove.” 

That name. 

It’s been years since you’ve heard it. And it was only him and his mother who called you as such. The name that used to bring you joy each time you heard it. Yet now, it elicits fear in your chest.

Sapphire orbs bores into your eyes while his hand caresses your cheek. “Unlike before, I won’t let you go that easily.” His hand snakes down to your neck, then lower to your breast, taking a tit in his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “In all honesty, you did this to yourself. If you never left me, we would never be in this situation. We could have been married. Living a simple life on the outskirts of town. Maybe even here in the city.” Releasing your breast, he pushes his hand lower, skating down your blouse and stopping just at the edge of your jeans. With deft hands, he undoes the button and pulls down the zip, your chest pounding as you foresee the coming events, wanting to kick him away from you—but it’s no use.

You no longer see your childhood best friend, your protector through the years. What you see is a stranger, a monster, here to haunt you through the next.

He’s strong, pulling the fabric off your thighs and tossing them haphazardly to the ground. He then stands, eyes raking over your body, and you’re once more stricken with fear when he starts to undo his pants. 

“Now, I’ll make sure that you never leave me,” he continues, kicking his pants away and taking your legs in his hands, lifting them over his shoulders as he kneels before you. 

You do nothing but watch in horror and feel his ministrations when he pushes your panties aside and presses his thumb against your clit. He rolls it slowly, teasing, dampening your cunt with each stroke he makes, pulling at the pleasure you desperately tamp down, but all your efforts are useless with your body subdued.

He lines his cock against your cunt, feeling the way he rubs the tip against your folds, taunting to penetrate at any moment. 

“This time, I’ll make sure we’ll be together forever.”