#Last Flight is SO GOOD but it’s also SO sad
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theaologies · 9 months ago
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I am once again asking the Dragon Age fandom to read Last Flight for your Griffon Lore
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hyperions-light · 3 months ago
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Someone was being a fucking hater on my explicitly positive DATV post AGAIN (u all know I can see your tags right. They get delivered to me express mail style) so here’s an essay about how I thought the Grey Warden plotline was great:
First, it was extremely lore-consistent. I don’t know how to tell people this, but the Grey Wardens simply are sort of shady— it’s part of their charm. In DAO alone we found out they:
- kill anyone who refuses the joining
- are definitely using a blood magic ritual to induct people
- tried to usurp the throne of Fereldan
In DA2 they:
-Forced Malcolm Hawke to perform a blood magic ritual against his will to contain Corypheus, by threatening to kill his family
- Built a giant prison in the mountains they didn’t tell anyone about and that someone could wander into and not be able to escape
- the entire Corypheus thing. They didn’t even tell the other Wardens like what he was or how dangerous he was.
DAI:
- the demon army thing was pretty bad
And that’s not even mentioning any stuff from the books or comics or shows! That’s just stuff in the games!
So they’re shady. It’s okay! They’re my little woobie guys, idc if they’re sort of shady!
But the plot in DATV is about all of those previously established issues coming back to bite them in the fucking ass, as they should! Knock knock, it’s the consequences of your actions, baby! The chickens are home to roost
(Which is just good storytelling. Like if you set up a bunch of issues and then never pay them off or anything that’s bad.)
Destroying Weisshaupt was inspired! Firstly bc Davrin is Weisshaupt, metaphorically (bulwark against the darkness, etc, I already made a post) so it serves his character arc. But also because it strips away the pageantry and the grandeur from them; no more castle for you! No more myth!
Davrin explicitly tells you that the First Warden is a traditionalist; he represents the historical attitudes of the Wardens. They do not accept help, they do not give up their secrets, they are standing alone against the dark. And it doesn’t work! He’s fucking wrong (and very punch-able). Being secretive and isolationist is a mistake that costs them nearly everything.
But also, and I’m not sure how many people experienced this on the first go-around, the game does ultimately come down on the side of the Wardens always trying to do the right thing. You CAN talk the First Warden down, because in the end he’s a Warden, and he might be stubborn and curmudgeonly and miserable but he CARES about the world. He came to do good. He admits he was wrong and he helps you. Because the heart of the Wardens is about selfless service to other people. In Death, Sacrifice.
Stripping away Weisshaupt and the glory and pageantry leaves the Wardens at their most vulnerable and forces them to return to their fundamental principles: helping people. That’s what Lavendel is about. Helping individual people and preserving every life possible even if it doesn’t feel that glamorous or heroic. Lavendel isn’t a significant place; it doesn’t matter, but it matters so much.
And then, the Cauldron.
First off, do not at me about Last Flight. I don’t think people should have to read external materials to play this game and understand it. If the information is vital it should be presented to the player in the text.
The Cauldron is the repository of the Wardens’ secrets; it’s where the keep the bones of the Archdemons, the secret to the Joining, ancient and dangerous weapons, as well as the bodies of the griffons, which represents their most shameful errors. Isseya is the avatar of the Wardens’ mistakes; she’s been hurt by what they made her do, and her pain was never acknowledged by them. They buried her story and her suffering like they bury everything they don’t want to deal with and are ashamed of. They left the bones of the griffons, whose deaths they directly caused, to rot because they were too sad to acknowledge them.
But it was wrong to walk away, it was wrong to bury it. Isseya makes sure that they can never do that again, that they have to own what they did and take responsibility. By discovering who she is and by restoring her personhood to her, by reminding her of her love which drove her to her anguish in the first place, Davrin saves her and he saves the griffons. He doesn’t do it using violence, because another sin of the Wardens is just assuming that they can kill their way out of their problems, which the game disproves by revealing the origin of the Blight. You can kill as many darkspawn as you want, you will never fix it! The Titans’ dreams do not need to be slain, they need to be healed.
Isseya is in so much pain because of her incredible love for both the griffons and the Wardens, and because of her guilt. Look what she builds! An alternate Weisshaupt, a distorted reflection of her home. She entreats both Davrin and Assan to join her, because she doesn’t think she’s trying to destroy anything. She’s trying to save them! She wants them to come home. “I am their mother,” she says, and she’s right. She saved them, then, and she ends up saving them now! Because she made Davrin and the other Wardens look, unflinchingly, at what they had done, it will never happen again. She was going about it wrong during the game, but she was ALWAYS trying to save them.
Davrin, Antoine and Evka represent the Wardens’ commitment to being different. They let Flynn undergo the Joining without becoming a Warden, they reveal secrets to non-Warden Rook, they offer to help the Viper without asking for anything in return. They ask for help and offer it freely. If the Wardens are going to persist into a world without Archdemons, they HAVE to change. They can’t be what they were anymore. The game is asking what a Warden is when they have to be more than their oath, when they have to live. It’s a great exploration of and expansion on previously established lore.
Anyway, my advice if you hated the plot and the game and the characters is to a) make your own post b) don’t bother me about it, because I have the time and I will be loudly positive in response!
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three--rings · 1 year ago
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One thing I haven't seen a lot of talk about in the fandom so far is about the financials of this season.
It took us two whole months to get a confirmation of renewal from Max, and I talked at the time that I think there was probably a lot of heated negotiations going on at the time with contracts and that's why it took as long as it did.
I think we see a huge number of indications of the compromises that were made in order for S2 to be made. One obvious one that has been talked about is being making in in NZ instead of LA, to save $.
But there's also the eight episodes instead of ten. And then the cast aspect. One downside of moving overseas was having to fly out and house the cast, not just pay day wages.
We knew immediately about Guz Khan not coming back, losing Ivan as a character. At the time I was sad but I thought it had the air of a pretty harshly practical call. If you went through the main recurring cast and said okay which character will affect the fewest things, has the least character interactions of anyone? It would be Ivan. (With the only competition being The Swede IMO, but he's Stede's crew and therefore a little more central.)
And then this season started and we got first The Swede sidelined and taken out of major scenes. And then I noticed that different members of the crew were simply absent for long stretches, like Wee John isn't around for ep 5 at all. And then Buttons takes flight.
Lucius and Pete aren't at the party for most of it. Fang isn't in the torture scene. Roach and Fang aren't in the bar. Etc. SCHEDULING IS HAPPENING.
The new characters are almost entirely played by NZ local actors, which is great, but also...cheaper.
In other words there are big signs that they did everything possible to give us a giant cast of almost everyone we love from S1, and cool new characters, in the most economical way possible.
And I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful we got S2, and it looks great, and it's well written, I'm having a blast, and we get to spend more time with this awesome cast.
But I also kinda think it needs to be said that the cost-cutting shows. That it shouldn't have been only 8 episodes, the pacing is off. That we miss every time someone from the ensemble isn't on screen.
That despite what they've put on screen looking very good, there's far less costuming budget, there's less elaborate sets, and it's a little disappointing. And it's clear it's not a lack of will or talent or vision but blatantly lack of money.
Look, streaming networks want brilliant shows that people love (that will get them to subscribe) but they very don't want to pay anyone to make them. That's like, the whole moment we're having right now.
Max puts out promos about how great it is to not have unions messing shit up in NZ. Well I have friends who are union costumers in LA and guess what union costumers did amazing last season. This season, well, I guess Stede got three whole shirts, so that's cool.
So I dunno. It's just stuff I think about. I'm not trying to be negative about the show in any way. I'm extremely happy with this season; I love it more than well, possibly any show I've ever been in fandom for.
But I see you, Max. You're cheap. You weren't that cheap when you were called HBO.
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tojisun · 9 months ago
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Poor poor hockey! Simon :(
he lost and now the only thing to make him feel better is a good bj
this made me twitch so here u are my love !!!
!! comfort/smut - minors dni; hockey au; praises (in a tender way and but also in a kink way); D/s-ish; some semblance of plot ig // 2.4k words (LMAO)
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the horn blows, marking the end of the game and, with that, the end of spec gru’s season.
it was heartbreaking to watch the way the boys' bodies slump, their loss descending onto them like heavy rain. the arena shakes, screams from the opposing team's fans piercing your ears, but you can't blame them, really—they won on home ice, against the leviathan of the league. it is a tremendous win for them, and a devastating loss for your side.
you feel your hand getting squeezed and you turn, looking at johnny's fiancee, seeing the way her own face is crumpled in her sadness.
"i guess that's that, huh?" she says, comforting, her voice a quiet whisper that was almost devoured by the loud cheers.
sometimes you forget that she's an athlete too; that she feels things a lot more intense than you do because she understands the grapple. the desperation. the way how everything you give and everything you put out is, at the end, not enough.
you sniffle, holding her hand tighter.
"i'm so proud of 'em," you say wetly, unable to compartmentalize your grief.
she laughs, the sound of it so empty of any humour but not any less kind.
“i am too.”
you both turn your gazes back to the rink and watch the teams shake hands with each other, the players finally amiable like they hadn’t just been tussling on ice, all sparked by the sharp tension that buzzed throughout their play.
you watch as simon takes a lap, patting the backs of his team members with his lips pursed, but otherwise he is put together. and yet here you are, shaking, lips wobbling, nose twitching because you are trying your best not to cry. it isn’t like you were the one who lost so you wonder why your heart twinges with so much pain; why is it that you are the one holding back the tears?
simon turns to the crowd, roving his eyes past bodies, until they finally lock on you. his lips twitch into a smile; you give him what you hope is a big one—the type of smile that will let him know how in awe you are of him, win or not.
they skate away and you all shuffle out, preparing for the flight back home.
.
it was expected for the players to fly back home together—a semblance of normalcy even amidst the staggering defeat. it was their last attempt at showing sportsmanship; at showing the hounding media that despite the abrupt end of their season, they remained close-knit. 
simon understands it, of course. it was a media play, one that contends with the politics of the league, but it was difficult to act impartially, especially when they were making their way back, empty-handed, from the home ice of the team that had defeated them. it was difficult to not show the turmoil in their hearts, but they all managed to hold their heads up high during the exit and that was that.
they didn’t talk about it much, avoiding that last game as best as they could until the briefing, but hunger thrums in their jowls—no one was satisfied with being the second best. 
the promise of a better next season hung above them, but it is still so unreachable.
simon feels angrier than usual, unable to stop himself from taking this loss personally. like what costed them their win were only his shortcomings; like this defeat was his sole failure because he did promise to lead his team on ice, with price unable to stand as their official captain during the games. he had promised to score the most, after all, and had promised to keep the opposing puck out of price’s net, but he failed in both and, well, here they are.
back home, anguished. defeated.
he–
simon's phone rings, a quiet trill that echoes in the empty locker room. 
he shoots awake from the swirl of his thoughts, sluggish as he pulls it out of his bag. he expected it to be laswell or keller, or maybe their coach, but simon feels his world tilt when he sees your name flashing on his screen. and just like that, like he wasn’t even drowning in his self-doubt and self-hatred, simon feels like he can breathe again. 
he feels lighter, his anguish seeping out of his pores, leaving him with nothing but his flesh and his heart and his love. 
simon picks up the call, hears your voice, then he is up and running back home. 
.
there is a sense of urgency in the way he finds you, his cold body folding into the warm touch of your own. you gasped out his name, surprised at how fast you have him back in your arms after a whole season of flying and leaving and pursuing his chance at the cup—
“i’m home, petal,” simon murmurs, his voice deep and beautiful and longing, and you giggle, your eyes watering, before you nuzzle into his chest.
he breathes you in, the faint smell of ozone and rain and something distinctly flowery fills his nose, and somehow this is what grounds him, his blood spiking as desire and need fill him up instead.
and it trickles into him like wafting smoke—soft, gentle, cascading like a warm kiss. it is still intense, hungry, but it is tender. quiet. like everything about simon’s buzzed energy had transformed into this careful folding. the anger, the desperation, all of it snuffed out for a vulnerable moment.
“baby,” you begin, voice muffled from where your head is still pressed on his chest. “love, you did so well.”
he shakes, his words failing him now. 
you pull back just enough and he sees the glazed look in your eyes as you stare up at him, your lips curled in your smile. “i’m so proud of you, si.” 
his heart stutters inside the cages of his ribs, jumping, before it lodges itself in his throat. 
you giggle at his wordless tremors and press close again, your body melting onto his again, before you tip your head back to his chest but this time, instead of a nuzzle, you greet his beating heart with a kiss. one that is so light he barely feels it from his shirt, but simon feels so shaken. 
he feels so raw. 
you are holding him like he is the best thing in this world. like all his bulk and his size and his anger is still worth this softness.
“i need you,” he croaks out, unable to stop the way his feelings bloat and rage in the pit of his stomach. 
“you have all of me,” you reply, breathless, your eyes still blown open, wide and full of wonder. then they shift, turning sharper, gaining edge; still careful, coaxing, but overwhelming. “tell me, my love. tell me how you need me.”
“fuck,” simon rasps out, feeling like he’s running out of air. his fingers twitch, digging deep into your skin, feeling it mould under his touch.
he’s missed this, alright. he’s—
“mouth,” he finally manages to bite out. “wan’ feel your mouth, love.”
“okay,” you croon, kissing his pec again. “sit f’me?”
simon doesn’t even have it in him to feel embarrassed about the way he falls to his ass on the plush mattress, bouncing a little bit because of the force, before he spreads his legs open, so, so desperate. 
you have your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, canines dimpling the flesh, and simon feels like he is burning from the inside; doused with the fires of need, spark untamable, licking up, up, up.
“come on, firelily,” he rumbles, needy. “c’mere an’ kiss me.”
you huff, fond, and fall to your knees, scooting close to him. 
it was silent as you fumble with his sweats, tugging at the drawstring and grumbling when the hem gets snugged on his hips. simon chuckles, pushing your hair out of your face before he juts up just enough to give you room to slide his sweats and his boxers down.
the cool air makes him tremble and you murmur something. it was so faint that he doesn’t get to catch what it was, but his curiosity sizzles at the sight of you licking your palm, shyly with how you refuse to meet his eyes. he almost teases you, his cheeks round with giddiness, but then you wrapped your fist around his half-chub, and his sanity is razed. 
simon hisses, eyes fluttering close at the warm curl of pleasure.
jesus. he’s missed the feeling of this; your hand is softer, more supple, around his cock. it was so different from when it was his own fist rubbing himself, beating at his angrily flushed cock with desperation only for his peak to tip over mutedly, and not enough to truly satiate his hunger.
but this? fuck. 
simon doesn’t even realize he’s whimpering, his head thrown back at the curious pace of your hand, not really jerking him off but mapping along his veins almost in quiet awe. 
“‘m not gon’ last long if you–” he gasps at a particular twist. “if you keep doing that.”
“oh, no we can’t have that,” you tease, chuckling, and simon’s reply builds on the tip of his tongue, cheeky, but then you’re already moving, your back folding, your breath hitting his sensitive head.
his thighs tense in his anticipation, his stomach locking. you flit your eyes up at him, pupils blown wide in your own ragged need, before he jerks at the feeling of your tongue pressing on the underside of his cock, licking up, and teasing his leaking slit.
simon moans, guttural, his voice caught on the back of his throat. he drops his hands to his sides, fisting at the sheets as you keep licking, teasing his slit and tracing his veins, lapping at his cock so messily. 
if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re inexperienced; all sloppy and curious, like you’re attempting things you’ve probably seen in porn, but then you close the ring of your mouth around the bulbed head, suckling like it’s a goddamn loli, while your hands drop to squeeze his balls, and simon’s gone. 
“shit-!” he gasps out, battling air like he’s back on ice. 
he bucks his hips forward, unable to help himself, and only stops at the warbled sound of your surprise.
“fuck,” he hisses, hand coming up to swipe the hair from your sweaty face. “i’m sorry, darlin’. didn’t mean t’force it down. s’just that y’r so good.”
he keeps petting your cheek, overtaken by his desires and no longer able to stop the string of words trickling from his heart. “missed you lots, swee’art. missed you so much—take me deeper?”
your cheeks hollow as you hum, so obedient for him.
“yeah, jus’ like that,” simon trills, his chest rising as he breathes in deeply. his stomach flexes at the feeling of you swallowing more of him, taking his thickness past your gummy cheeks and into the wet vice of your throat. “shit, baby. christ. y’feel so fuckin’ good ‘round me. so perfect an’ wet.” he giggles, drunken in his bliss. “such a messy baby y’are. so sloppy. y’wanted my cock that much, din’ya? so hungry f’r it.”
there’s a wet slurp when he hits the deepest you could allow him, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. you choke, your body lurching in protest, but simon is at the throes of his pleasure and his rational thoughts are devoured by his gluttonous need, and simon knows it is wrong to ask but—
“hold it in? can you do that f’r me, love?” he croons, his voice curling in his euphoria.
he knows this is playing dirty; to use your weakness—the deep rumble of his voice and the gentle beckoning—to make you weak, malleable. to make you just as desperate for him because he knows all you want to do is to be good for him even when it has you straining, your eyes filling up with tears. he knows it is wrong, but he can’t help it. he wants you this way.
and you want him like this too—his desires sharpening, shaping him to be mean and dangerous. his thickness fills you up, pressing at the roof of your mouth and trapping your tongue underneath the weight of his flesh. your larynx is stretched out, stuffed, but simon is looking at you so adoringly, his own ecstasy so dizzying, so addicting.
you nod, sniffling, finally replying to his question because you want him to feel good. because you want him to lose his restraints when it comes to you.
because you want him to use you until he’s truly relaxed, his body exhausted with something beyond his heartbreak. with something beyond his loss.
simon’s lips wobble like he knows what it is you are thinking of. 
he fucks your throat that way, gentle and sometimes slipping into something so mean it makes you squirm on your knees, the muted throb of your strained legs finally turning into staticky numbness, but you don’t complain, your jaw relaxed as you let simon use you.
he growls out his praises, his words chewed on in his peaking euphoria—nose flaring, cheeks flushed red—or lilting as he teases you—pulling his cock out enough that all that is left is the head, and you whine because you want him in, please simon. wan’ more please—
“gonna cum, sweetheart. gonna cum—fuck!—gonna—”
simon throws his head back, a blinding white filling his eyes and his ears ringing. his body trembles at the intensity of his orgasm, immense pleasure overtaking every synapses in his body until all that he feels is the feverish wrap of your mouth on him.
he flicks his eyes down, panting, and twitches at the sight you make—jaw slack, eyes faraway, skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat. 
you look, fuck, you look angelic like this.
simon cups your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your teary eye. you focus back to him slowly, blinking owlishly. 
“shh,” he croons, gentle. “i’ve got you, darlin’. i’ve got you.”
a whine builds from the back of your throat and simon hums, responding to your wordless babble, trying to ease you back down from the fog. he continues to hold you even amidst his oversensitivity, waiting so patiently so he can take care of you now.
yeah, he thinks to himself as he continues to return your unblinking stare. i’m glad to be back home. 
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hope this was good :'33 once again pls dont judge me for my blatant self-indulgence hhHHHHH oki oki mwah!!
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lavenderspence · 9 months ago
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To Lean On You | Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.
Word Count: 8.6K
Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other. 
A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3
Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:
Hearts by Jessie Ware
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift
Lost Without You by Freya Ridings
In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles
masterlist
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79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.
70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.
65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started. 
Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.
March 4th, 2017
It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds. 
Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost. 
Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain. 
Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go. 
Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.
“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”
You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair. 
You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.  
“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true. 
Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.
“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list. 
“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.
“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone. 
“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment. 
You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”  
For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?” 
“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.
"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.
All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him. 
“Emily-” she cut you off.
“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.
“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest. 
As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.
“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home. 
You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico. 
His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.
Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to. 
“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”
You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other. 
You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped. 
You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking. 
You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes. 
You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been. 
“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside. 
You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore. 
And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.
“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud. 
“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did. 
“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you. 
“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew. 
“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.
“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him. 
“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her. 
“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.
You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.
“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough. 
She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier. 
“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking. 
“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt. 
“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.” 
“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.
“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off
“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more. 
“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again. 
“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say. 
“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight. 
Spencer’s POV
The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight. 
In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him. 
Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.
He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive. 
He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends. 
In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in. 
Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take? 
His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared. 
Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you. 
He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.
He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.
Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote. 
As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?
“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num. 
In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same. 
“Do what?”
She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card. 
“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again. 
Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused. 
Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different. 
For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit. 
Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy. 
He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.
And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years. 
He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt. 
Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown. 
Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place. 
How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.
Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly. 
Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one. 
Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth. 
And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness. 
Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.
Your POV
You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine. 
You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both. 
There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature. 
Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt. 
It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled. 
Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him. 
As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.
It’d either make or break you both.
You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.
You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed. 
The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that. 
Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time. 
Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.
You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.
Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out. 
Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.  
You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure. 
He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn. 
70 days of slowly killing you both.
When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.
His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.
Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly. 
Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over. 
89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did. 
When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see. 
His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over. 
One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out. 
“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them. 
His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms. 
Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation. 
“That’s not fair.”
You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.
“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now. 
If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned. 
You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth. 
His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.
“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet. 
He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face. 
“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry. 
He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined. 
He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to. 
He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him. 
Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground. 
“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.
Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment. 
Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of. 
The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes. 
And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own. 
If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much. 
And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline. 
You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head. 
You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him. 
He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you. 
You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other. 
After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand. 
It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent. 
“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in. 
You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again. 
“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice. 
You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it. 
“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto. 
You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head. 
“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. 
“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.
“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to. 
And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became. 
To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace. 
He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.
“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it. 
“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real. 
“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple. 
“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?” 
"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you. 
Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss. 
You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.
“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.
He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time. 
“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy. 
His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process. 
If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices. 
A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.
“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.
Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived. 
“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours. 
He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go. 
He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching. 
It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together. 
Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.
When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.
And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered. 
“I love you.” 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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azzifuddfanpage · 30 days ago
Note
Paige catching Azzi masturbating and she doesn’t let it go but instead tease her and join her in helping her cum
Caught
———— thank you for the prompt!!!🫶
ALSO PLEASE GIVE ME UR FEEDBACK AND COMMENTS OR IM NOT DOING ANOTHER PROMPT TN THANK YEW
———-
3.1k words tw: smut
themes: smut like all smut good luck 👍 (hope u sluts are happy 🤷‍♀️)
———— Paige and Azzi had spent the majority of the year attached at the hip. 
When the espys rolled around and Paige had to fly out to Los Angeles, Azzi couldn’t help herself but miss her after spending almost every waking minute together.
“U really have to go?” Azzi asked, her arms connected tightly against Paige's waist, and her face nuzzled into the crook of her neck. 
Paige took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Azzi’s coconut lavender shampoo. 
“I know baby, I have to go, but it’s only for a few days, and I’ll FaceTime you every night.” 
“Better be everyday too.” Azzi pouted. 
Paige's heart warmed seeing her girl all clingy to her, and she tightened her grip around her.
As happy and blessed she was to be given this opportunity, she was sad she couldn’t have her best friend/ girlfriend beside her.
———
Seeing Paige in the suit, her hair pulled back into the low messy bun, her eyes sparkling under the spotlight. Azzi couldn’t hide the nagging heat between her thighs that was desperate to be settled.
Paige was originally supposed to come home 2 days after the espys.
The first day after was filled with parties, and then the second day she had to meet with someone to work on her nil deal with her shoes. 
What Azzi didn’t know was that Paige had changed her flight, and instead of flying out that next morning, she would fly out that afternoon. 
———
Azzi on the other hand had more important things to worry about, more specifically, the evolving heat in her core that had been growing since the day Paige left.
She tried to ignore it, she tried to distract herself by watching frozen (5 times), working on extra skills in the gym (even though there was only so much she could do since her last injury), or even learning how to make baked Mac and cheese from scratch (one of paige’s favorites), but none of it seemed to scratch the itch that was so badly limiting her.
She knew she wouldn’t be able to skip out on watching the espys that night.
So when she clicked on the tv and saw the way Paige's fingers wrapped around the mic, she was already very fragile.
Somehow she managed to hold off that entire night and into the next day.
She continued to keep herself busy like she had done before, going to rehab, focusing on the summer classes she had taken to work through her masters, but by the time that evening rolled around and she opened TikTok she knew she was screwed.
The first video on her for you page was an edit of Paige in her espys fit.
Azzi’s eyes glazed over as she saw the way Paige's nimble fingers grasped the microphone, the level of confidence seeping out of her as she spoke. But what did it for her most was the way her veins popped in her arms the same way they did when her fingers were thrusting in and out of Azzi’s lower stomach, desperate to please her.
Azzi looked at her phone, the ache in her stomach too strong to ignore, she moved her fingers down to her waist band and slipped them into her panties, her clit already sensitive  to the touch as she rubbed against it, collecting her stick from the entrance of her hole.
She moaned at the contact, her eyes focusing on the video of Paige, her Paige, she imagined her fingers were Paige's needy long fingers that could never stay off Azzi.
Azzi didn’t even feel embarrassed at this point, it wasn’t like she had never done it before, when they had been long distance before they had to use similar methods, but now, she wasn’t used to this.
The feeling of her own fingers against her skin, would never match Paige's.
Paige knew her body better then she did, knew what made her whimper, what made her legs shake, what made her white syrup spill as Paige thrusted against her g spot.
As Azzi slugged off her shorts and began to lazily fuck her fingers into herself, she could already feel a release brewing, but it wasn’t the same. She felt as though the release she had was bottled up for so long that it was stuck. 
Azzi fucked herself, transitioning between thrusts in and out of herself, to soft rubs and aggressive rubs on her clit, she went back and forth with this for a while, her orgasim remaining close but still so far.
Azzi let out a frustrated moan, her focus going back to the video, pretending her fingers were Paige's, persistent and begging to be swallowed by Azzi’s needy pussy.
Azzi threw her head back moaning Paige's name.
——-
Paige was honestly tired from her long day of flying, but after 3 days without seeing Azzi, she too not only missed her emotionally, but she also had an ache between her legs that only a curly haired brunette guard from UConn could cure.
Paige walked into the suite and was met with an overwhelming layer of silence. 
She wanted to surprise Azzi. 
When Paige finally pushed open the door, she saw Azzi’s legs spread open, her fingers desperately against herself.
Paige felt her knees buckle at the sight.
The way Azzi was folded over, her body spread out on the bed, a bead of sweat running down her forehead. 
She watched as Azzi’s fingers dip lazily into her hole. 
Paige continued standing there, her eyes unable to leave her girlfriend's vulnerable frame. 
Azzi threw her head back- eyes still shut- as she moaned.
“Paige.” Azzi whimpered, her phone still lying forgotten in front of her. 
Paige smirked hearing Azzi’s breathy whimper of her name.
“Not even locking the door first damn az.” Paige finally spoke, breaking the silence.
Azzi let out a yelp, jumping at the sudden unexpected presence in her room.
Pulling out her fingers she threw the blanket over her.
“JESUS PAIGE WHAT THE FUCK” Azzi said a little out of breath from how startled she was.
“you actually just scared the living fuck out of me.” Azzi continued rubbing her face with her hand (not the one that was just inside of her) 
“Ya literally” Paige snorted, walking closer to her and pulling down the sheets exposing Azzi’s naked frame.
Her nipples were hard from the cold air, and Paige could see how wet she was under the light.
“Really couldn’t wait for me, could you baby?” Paige said, running her finger along Azzi’s abs.
Azzi shuddered under her contact, shaking her head embarrassed.
“I tried- just missed you badly.” Azzi said ashamed, her eyes subconsciously darting to her phone.
Paige looked at Azzi’s phone and then back at her. Both their eyes darted back and forth.
Paige lunged for the phone at the same time as Azzi, beating her there.
Flipping it over she unlocked it and smirked when she saw the edit of her playing on the screen.
Azzi threw a hand to cover her face.
“I’m never gonna hear the end of this am I?” Azzi asked, burying her face in the pillow. 
“Not if you want me to help you baby.” Paige says, putting down her phone with a smirk. 
She pulled Azzi's hand away from her face, using her fingers to tilt her chin towards her. 
“Missed this pretty face so much.” Paige whispered, leaning forward and climbing onto the bed so she was now hovering over Azzi. 
Paige ran her hand along Azzi’s neck, moving it up and tracing along her jaw.
She leaned forward and placed a soft open mouth kiss on the soft skin under her ear.
Azzi let out a whimper, her hips wiggling as Paige adjusted her position, her legs straddling either side of her. 
“So needy baby.” Paige whispered as she sucked a little on Azzi’s skin, releasing it and licking over the reddened skin with her tongue. 
“Please.” Azzi moaned as Paige's tongue licked at her lip, dipping inside.
Paige pulled her tongue away, sitting up slightly so she could look at Azzi’s desperate state underneath her.
“Tell me how much better I am at fucking you.” Paige whispered, as she watched Azzi’s lips pucker in the air, reaching out for Paige's. 
Azzi’s eyes opened as she pouted.
Paige laughed, her finger tugging at her puffy bottom lip. 
“Do u want me to help you finish or should I just let you finish yourself off.” Paige said simply, her finger running back down and connecting with her neck as Paige's lips connected back to Azzi’s.
As their tongues massaged against each other, Paige smirked against her.
Paige softly bit against Azzi’s lip, tugging at it and listening to the soft sigh that left her.
When she finally sat up, Azzi whined. 
“Paigeee.” She whined.
“Fine if your gonna be difficult, you’re gonna keep fucking your sled and we’ll see how far you get.” Paige decided, sliding backwards off Azzi’s bed, and facing her.
Azzi’s face turned red as she watched Paige needily stare at her throbbing pussy. 
“Don’t be shy now baby- all u have to tell me is how much better I am at making you finish.” Paige said with a smirk, her eyes running over her folds. 
Azzi, being the stubborn person she was, refused to let Paige win this.
She rolled her eyes and moved her fingers back down to her pussy, running them through the wetness that had collected near her hole.
She moaned at the much needed contact, and began to rub her fingers in small circles over her clit.
“Look at me while you do it.” Paige said her voice was soft but firm.
Azzi looked up at her slowly, her breath shakily.
When her eyes met Paige's, and she saw how dilated they were-drunk on the sight of her pussy, she almost came right from that.
“You know if I was touching you right now, I would have had you cum by now.” She said confidently, smirking as she watched Azzi crumble under her eye contact.
Azzi blushed even more, looking away from Paige and focusing back on pleasing herself.
Her fingers moved away from her clit, traveling down and dipping into her entrance. 
She inserted two of them gently, thrusting and curling them against herself.
She let out a seductive moan that sent shivers down Paige's spine.
Paige wanted nothing more than to shove Azzi’s hand aside and take her right there, but she was also stubborn.
She watched helplessly as Azzi’s fingers curled into her pussy, thrusting them in and out, speeding up.
Azzi moaned, sitting up on her elbow to give herself a better angle.
As much as Azzi didn’t want to give in, she knew she wouldn’t even have to. She knew paige. 
If Paige wanted to eat, she would eat.
Azzi looked up at her, “Paige.” She moaned, staring at her intently until Paige's eyes- that were entranced by her fingers- found hers.
“Fuck it.” Paige said practically jumping on her, ripping her hand away from herself and diving her mouth into Azzi’s pussy. 
Azzi let out a laugh as Paige tongue tickled her inner thigh.
“Fucking always get ur way don’t u princess.” Paige said as her tongue ran against Azzi’s wetness, spreading it across her pussy.
Azzi moaned loudly, her hand coming and wrapping in Paige's hair tugging her closer to her core.
Paige dipped her tongue into her whole, thrusting it in a couple times as her finger played with her clit.
Azzi let out a whine, needing more stimulation.
Paige brought her tongue up to her clit, exchanging the pressure of her tongue, for her pressure of her fingers, now filling her.
As Paige sucked and pulled on Azzi’s clit, her 3 fingers went to work, thrusting in and out.
Azzi, who had already gotten herself very close before, was now gripping at Paige's scalp, Paige's fingers slamming against her walls.
“Fuck P.” She moaned as paige lapped at her clit. 
Azzi adjusted her position, sitting up on her elbows to watch her as her fingers stilled inside her.
Feeling Azzi’s eyes on her, Paige looked up, still pulling on her clit. 
The sight of Paige's big blue eyes completely drunk off her pussy, the feeling of her fingers thrusting back into her, and her tongue flicking at her clit, was all too much for her.
“Fuck paige I’m gonna cum.” 
Paige smirked as she could feel Azzi’s legs shake.
Her fingers stilted inside her, and she lifted her head to her ear, letting her lips tickle it.
“Tell me how good I am to you.” She paused, pressing her lips to Azzi’s ear. Azzi moaned, the throbbing between her legs, too much for her to take.
“Fuck need you to fuck me paige please.” She whined, giving in as Paige sucked at her neck. 
“Tell me how much better I am at fucking you.” She whispered, her tongue soothing the now purple skin.
Paige moaned into her ear and Azzi caved, “fuck you know my body so well baby. You’re so good, please continue.” Azzi whispered, her hips thrusting up to get some type of friction.
“If you insist.” Paige winked, her three fingers diving back down and fucking into her. 
Azzi moaned, her abs flexing as she hunched over from the pressure of Paige's fingers hitting at her walls.
Azzi moaned, and Paige's fingers dove deeper inside.
Paige’s other hand grabbed Azzi’s stomach, pressing on it to stabilize herself.
Azzi felt her finger brush her g spot, and the band in her stomach snap.
Paige lowered herself down so she was angled at her pussy as she could hear her fingers squelching as Azzi released.
She drank up every bit of liquid that spilled from Azzi’s cunt.
“tastes so good, baby.” “Missed her so bad.” She said as she pulled out her fingers, letting more of Azzi’s cum spill out of her.
Azzi was a pile of moans, and Paige eventually pulled away from her cunt, climbing back up to connect with Azzi’s lips, letting her taste herself.
Paige swallowed Azzi’s moans as their tongues fought together.
After Azzi had caught her breath, she pulled Paige away from her.
“Hey just cuz I gave in and let you fuck me doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be able to do it on my own.” Azzi assured, her eyes finding Paige's. 
“Whatever you say baby.” Paige said, snuggling herself into the crook of Azzi’s  arm.
“Wait no.” Azzi said, pushing her off of her.
Paige's head fell onto the bed. 
“What are you talking about Azzi?” Paige sighed.
Azzi climbed on top of Paige so she was straddling her.
“Why don’t you think I could fuck myself as good as you do?” Azzi asked, holding Paige's arms down so she couldn't resist her.
“Nah I know u could, I’m just better.” She replied cheesing. 
Azzi teasingly shoved her face away. 
“Ya we’ll see about that.” Azzi said as Paige's face contorted into a confused look.
Azzi pulled up Paige's shirt, placing soft kisses above her sports bra. 
Paige moaned as her teeth nipped gently at her skin. 
Azzi pulled down her bra, exposing her hardened nipples.
Azzi looked up to find Paige already looking at her with big needy eyes.
Without looking away, Azzi leaned down and wrapped her mouth around Paige's nipple, pulling on it and releasing it with a pop.
She watched as Paige moaned, throwing her head back.
Azzi smirked as she left her bra up, keeping her tits out as she trailed down to Paige's waist band.
“Lift up for me baby.” Azzi said as she dipped her fingers into the band of her sweats.
Paige lifted her hips so Azzi could pull off her sweats.
Azzi threw them behind her, leaning down to level herself with Paige's pussy that was still covered by her boxers.
Azzi ran a finger over her clothes pussy feeling the slick through it. 
“God Azzi.” Paige whimpered as Azzi pulled down her boxers too.
“Need you so bad princess.” Paige said, tangling her fingers in Azzi’s curls pulling her mouth towards her slick.
“Oh is that right?” Azzi said, her breath hitting against Paige's wet clit, sending a shiver through her body.
Paige whined at the feeling against her slick. 
She nodded, but Azzi wasn’t satisfied.
“Well maybe u should just fuck yourself since you’re so much better than me.” Azzi teased, running her fingers on her inner thigh, dangerously close to her aching clit.
“Bruh come on you know I didn’t mean it baby.” Paige whimpered as Azzi’s fingers traced over the sensitive bundle of nerves.  
“Maybe but I want you to tell me.” She whispered seductively, triggering a submissive reaction in Paige's body.
“Need your pretty fingers so bad sweet girl.” Paige moaned.
Azzi could have cum again just from Paige's words, instead she licked a long stripe up her pussy, rewarding her for good behavior.
Paige moaned, shifting her body so her hips were elevated and pressing into Azzi’s mouth. 
Azzi switched to kitten licks against her clit, motivated by her words.
“Such a good girl- doing me so well.” Paige moaned, running her fingers through Azzi’s curls, pulling them back and away from her face.
Azzi sucked on her clit, and her fingers ran through her wetness, dipping into her hole.
“Please baby- need you so bad pretty.” Paige moaned as her fingers inched deeper into her slowly.
Azzi felt Paige's breath shift underneath her.
“Ya you like that don’t you. Just love fucking this pussy huh baby?” Paige growled.
Azzi didn’t answer, instead she responded by thrusting her fingers deeper into Paige's pussy, thrusting them in and out.
Paige groaned, her hand pushing Azzi’s head into her pussy so she was sucking on it harder.
“Right there fuck baby you’re so good.” Paige moaned as Azzi’s fingers pounded against her g spot.
Azzi smirked against her clit, Paige's hand directing her movements so her tongue was now rubbing up and down against it.
With her fingers still fucking deep inside her walls, and her tongue sucking and lapping at her clit, paige could feel the orgasm closing in on her. 
“Gonna cum baby…fuck.” Paige moaned, her legs shaking around Azzi's body.
Azzi wrapped her arms around Paige's thighs, pulling her so she was closer to her.
Azzi sat up a little, pulling paige into her lap to change her angle, fucking her fingers deeper inside her, letting paige’s moans fill the air. 
Paige moaned loudly as Azzi’s teeth grazed her sensitive clit.
Before she could even realize what was happening, her cum was pouring out of her and Azzi was greedily drinking it up.
Paige was still out of breath as Azzi rode out her high.
“You like the way I taste mama. you’re so perfect. Such a good girl eating me so well.” Paige says as she pulled a strand of Azzi’s curls out of her face and pulled it behind Azzi’s ear.
Azzi continued to fuck her through her high until paige was physically pushing her away and pulling her up so she was laying her on her stomach. 
“You did so good pretty.” Paige whispered again to Azzi's cheek as she rubbed small circles against her bare skin.
Azzi sighed contently as she nuzzled deeper into Paige's chest, letting the warmth of Paige's skin surround her.
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itsprashimusic · 6 months ago
Text
Monaco and Monza
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Summary - Charles, his favourite person (and their puppy) before, during and after the most important race wins of his life.
Pairings - Charles Leclerc x fem!Reader
Warnings - no use of y/n, google translate French and Italian, r can make decent conversation in French and Italian, possible inaccurate timelines, it is hinted that R is not from France or Monaco, honorable louis tomlinson appearance bc I am a former louie girlie, R has blue light glasses, cuss words. Happy reading🩵
W/C - 3.9k
A/N - i write all my female Rs with a desi in mind. Written in 2nd pov. I wrote R with a mindset and likes similar to mine, you are free to skip this fic if you don't like it.
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Before Monaco
An hour had passed on the three hour flight from Imola to Nice. Charles was asleep and Leo was curled up in your lap. Sitting in an oversized top and sweatpants, you were quite comfortable while doing some work. You work for a company that allows you to work remotely, which is a huge blessing considering your longtime boyfriend travels the world every other week.
The tiny pup yawned big as he woke up from his nap. You scratched him under the chin. Leo moved around in your lap, found another comfortable spot and went right back to sleep just as Charles also moved to find another comfortable position to nap in. You smiled to yourself and continued working.
Soon the plane landed in a private airport in the French city of Nice. Your bags were handled by the hired help, and Charles insisted on carrying your laptop bag for you. This left you walking along his side with Leo in your arms, still sound asleep. The boat ride to Monaco didn't take long and the drive to your shared apartment went by in a blur.
It felt nice being home during race week. You left Leo in his bed and joined Charles in the living room. Coming up from behind you hugged him while softly asking, "Qu'est-ce que tu penses?" (what is on your mind?). Even after all these years you still cringed at your accent.
"The race" he replied.
You sighed as you remembered the dnfs, mechanical failures and team errors that Charles had to endure. Year after year, the pain just kept getting worse as you watched from the grandstands and eventually the garage.
"You should focus on the positives. The team has been performing well and this season has been different than the last 3, there is hope." you weren't sure if what you said was the right thing. You kissed him on the cheek and moved around the couch to come and sit next to him.
"It is not easy when every other time I have had hope, it has been ripped away and torn into tiny pieces," Charles said while looking defeated. You felt sad seeing him like this. You just held your arms out and let him fall into your embrace. With the couch being big enough for two people to sleep on it, soon you and Charles fell asleep, still in the hug.
During Monaco
Photographers snapped photos of you and Rebecca, Leo's leash entwined with your hand. The two of you were spotted outside the Ferrari hospitality an hour before qualifying. Charles was busy with his engineer and strategist and asked you to give him some alone time. So, you thought a small walk around the paddock with your puppy and good friend would be beneficial.
Eventually the crowd of fans surrounding you and Rebecca who wanted to see Leo was getting quite large, so you politely said goodbye to the fans, picked up the pup and made your way back to the Ferrari motorhome. You got a text from your boyfriend.
Can you come to my drivers room?
You entered the room and put Leo down, allowing him to calm down and drink some water from his very own water bottle and attached bowl. "Darling, do you need something?" you asked Charles as he looked tense.
You moved closer to him. Charles caught you by surprise when he pulled you even closer and hugged you extremely tight. "Je ne me sens pas bien," (i don't feel good) he whispered. "C'est bon. Tout ira bien. It's ok, you'll be ok." you quietly kept repeating to him until Leo began demanding attention with his big brown eyes and soft whines.
Charles wiped the few tears that escaped and picked him up with a new smile adorning his face. For a moment, it was just the three of you, your perfect little family. There was a knock at the door, followed by a Ferrari team member informing Charles that he was required in 5 minutes. Charles placed a wet kiss on your forehead.
"Thank you for supporting me the way you do. I love you so much, mon cœur," (my heart) he said, his lips still on your forehead. The pair walked out of the room and split ways. You had the hired help watch Leo for the duration of qualifying in a private room.
You sat with Charles' family just as the Sky Sports camera panned on you. You smiled when you saw yourself on the monitor and gave a small wave while sitting next to Charlotte.
Even though you knew that Charles would easily clear Q1, you could not help the anxiety that made its way throughout your body. He crossed the line and made it to Q2. With the next session, your anxiety worsened. But within 15 minutes your nerves eased.
Q3. This was it. As the minutes slowly turned from 12 to 2, you were feeling sick. Charles' sleek Ferrari flew over the finish line and your hands flew to your mouth. Pole Position. At his home race. At your home race. The cameras focused on you to get your and his family's reaction.
At parc ferme, Charles ran over to his team who hyped him up even more. He signed the wheel and posed for the photos, the smile never leaving his face. Even after finishing up his media duties and making his way back to his family and you in the motorhome, his smile remained ever present. You swore he never hugged you tighter than that.
Race day. The day that actually mattered.
You entered the paddock a few steps behind Charles, Leo once again in your hold. You didn't get a lot of time with Charles, considering he was the man of the hour after securing pole. The two of you shared a moment together before he had to head out for the national anthem.
"Comment te sens-tu, chérie?" (how are you feeling, darling?) you asked him while he changed into his race suit. He looked up and the look on his face gave you your answer. You smiled and he continued wearing his suit. There were butterflies in his stomach. That meant he felt nervous, hopeful, anxious and confident all at once.
Charles was out on the track, and you once again joined his family in the motorhome. At that point though, it would be more appropriate to call them your family. You and Charles have been together for a long time. The pair of you had seen each other at their lowest and highest. When Charles lost his father and when for nearly a year you could not get a job. When news of Anthoine's death reached Charles, he was on holiday with you and your family in another country. Your family gave him the comfort he needed. When you got news that your parents contracted covid, there was nothing you could do sitting in your apartment in Monaco. Pascale was like a second mother to you.
The race began. You found a place to sit and watch the race. Charles was in the lead. A huge crash. A totaled redbull and a red flag. You felt the butterflies creeping up from your stomach to your throat. The race resumed and continued. Piastri was close to Charles, but not enough to threaten his position. It felt like time slowed down during the final lap. You had an earbud plugged in one ear and could hear Crofty's iconic last lap commentary.
The number 16 Ferrari flew past the checkered flag and fireworks flew out from the sides of the track. Charles' family members were already hugging each other and some of the team members who were there. But you didn't move. Tears were flowing down your face and a smile was etched on your face. The first person you moved to hug was Charlotte, the older woman was like an elder sister to you.
The camera's stream kept cutting from Charles out on the track to you and his family in the motorhome. Everyone quickly left the garage and made their way to parc ferme. You saw Charles pull up and stop in front of the 1st place stand. You watched from the back as he ran to his team, Arthur and Lorenzo pushed their way to the front. After getting weighed, the team moved to allow you to come to the front where Charles walked towards you.
Normally, you and Charles would keep the pda on the lesser side when cameras were around, but not this time. The forever smiling face, messy-haired and slightly teary-eyed boyfriend of yours pulled you directly into a powerful kiss. His left arm was around your back while his right hand was half on your face and half on your neck. You could hear and feel all the cameras going off around you.
Charles broke the kiss but kept your foreheads connected. You held both of his hands. "Tu l'as fait," (you did it) you repeated in all the languages you knew while nodding your head. You could see the tears welling up in his eyes again. He quickly blinked them away, "L'ho fatto," (i did it) he said in Italian quickly kissed you once again before hugging you.
You stood below the podium and watched as he received the trophy he had been waiting his entire life for. You were still crying. The tears would not stop, and they only got worse when Charles made eye contact with you after he was presented with the medal. He mouthed the words I love you. So much. Thank you. You could only hold your hand to your heart in response.
After Monaco
Even after a full day, you could still smell the fragrance of champagne wafting off of Charles.
You and Charles had celebrated his win on Sunday night in a club. He was practically glued to your side the entire night. No matter who he was talking to, either he did it while having an arm around you or holding your hand. By the end of the night, you were left with a very clingy and very drunk boyfriend. With Joris's help, you got Charles into the car. He drove the both of you home.
Back at the apartment, Charles seemed to have sobered up a bit after you made him eat some food.
"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" Charles was lying down on the bed and was lovingly staring at you.
"All the time," you answered while changing for the night.
You finished changing and joined Charles in bed. Leo who was previously perched near Charles' feet climbed onto you and snuggled up on your chest.
Charles got your attention by saying your name, "I want you to understand what I mean when I say this. I love you. I appreciate you so much, even I cannot comprehend it. You have supported me throughout my years in Formula 1 and Formula 2. You have stood by me all these years, even when you had to sacrifice your job and sleep schedule for me. Je veux que vous compreniez la profondeur de ce que je dis." (i want you to understand the depth of what i am saying).
His eyes kept moving around but eventually rested on your face. He looked into your eyes when he finally spat out what he truly wanted to say.
"Mon cœur, mon âme, ma vie, je veux passer le reste de ma vie avec toi. Veux-tu m'épouser?" (My heart, my soul, my life, i want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?)
I took you a second to process what Charles said. You looked down and saw him holding a simple gold band with three small diamonds set in it. His free arm was laid across your stomach under Leo, who woke up when he sensed his mom feeling strong emotions.
Tears filled your eyes, your heart began beating faster and you were sweating a bit. Leo moved to the bed and was now licking the tears that fell from your eyes. You felt like you couldn't speak, but you very much knew what your answer was.
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Before Monza
The summer break was perfect. You used your paid leave and were fully able to enjoy your time with the entire family. The photos of Leo that Charles posted to his instagram were adored by the fans. Your insta account remained private, but you still posted the dog nonetheless.
Neither of you announced the engagement just yet, wanting to keep it to yourselves for a while. Fans got curious when they saw a new ring around that special finger after Charles' win in Monaco, but since it was quite simple and small, they thought nothing much of it. You were known for wearing many different rings on the same finger, so people thought it was just another ring you fancied.
Unfortunately, after your long break, you were required to come back to the office for a few days for important meetings with the higher-ups of your company. That meant you missed the race in Zandvoort and Charles podium. But you made it up to him by joining him in Monza, his adopted home race.
Walking in the streets of Monza with a loved Ferrari driver was always quite the experience. Leo loved the attention from all the fans, he was a born extrovert. You and Charles had lunch at one of your favourite restaurants. The both of you sat in a relatively private section of the restaurant.
"I missed you at Zandvoort," Charles said before eating a morsel of his favourite pasta. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I tried to leave as early as I could, but by the time the meeting finished it made no sense to come," you said wishing you could have been there for him. Ever since Monaco, the team had been struggling. It brought back painful flashbacks of 2022 and 2023.
Things were not the best between you and Charles during the week you were out for work. The timings never seemed to match, when he had the energy to talk you were too burnt out, and doing all of this while also planning a wedding was not easy. It put a small strain on your relationship which seemed like it was reaching its breaking point during this weekend.
During Monza
You spent the rest of the week working. In between the free practice sessions, you were spotted with a pair of blue-light glasses on and bent over your laptop and a notebook. Leo was either sleeping in his carrier by your feet or was with Arthur or Lorenzo.
You barely saw Charles the entire weekend. He was either busy with his engineer and strategist or was filming content. It only made the strain in your relationship even worse and left Rebecca having to hear your side of it for most of the weekend considering both the boys were quite busy.
It was only before qualifying that you managed to get a moment with Charles at all.
"Charles, I know this is an important race for you, but we need to talk," you sternly said leaving no room for arguments. Charles was about to protest but you simply pulled him by the arm to his drivers room.
"Pourquoi tu ne me parles pas?" (why are you not talking to me?) you folded your arms while facing him. "You have been avoiding me ever since Thursday!"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were too tired and 'fagged out' to want to talk," he replied sarcastically and with air quotes. "Je ne comprends pas pourquoi tu dois te comporter comme ça!" (I don't get why you have to behave like that!) Charles started walking around angrily and went off rattling away in French at such a fast pace you could not understand what he was saying.
"Just stop!" you yelled. "Just tell me why you are angry at me," you said, softer this time, almost in defeat.
"I don't like it when you are so busy with your work that you do not have time for us," Charles whispered after a long pause.
"And how do you think I feel when you are so busy with your work? I am required to go to the office at least every six months. You travel around the world every other week. You have less free time than I do, but have you heard me complain? So, instead of getting angry that I had to leave for one week to discuss plans for the company's future with the CEO, you should be happy that it was only one week out of the 52 in a year."
By the time you finished speaking, Charles had his hands over his face and was standing quite far from you. He whispered something inaudibly. With a confused look on your face, you moved closer to your fiancé. Upon feeling your body heat in the cold room, he removed his hands from his face and repeated his words.
I'm sorry.
The both of you wrapped yourselves in an embrace and for 5 minutes were only apologising and promising to do better in the future. You left the room after giving him a kiss. You headed down to the garage wanting to watch quali with Arthur who was watching Leo while you worked.
The timer began the countdown into Q1. Normally you would've been feeling quite nervous, but you were distracted by the charming british singer sitting next to you. Being a young girl during the height of One Direction was something else entirely. Your childhood dreams of meeting your favourite singer from the famous boyband had now come true.
Soon it was time for Q3 and you got a photo with Louis who by the time Q3 began, just like the rest of the world, fell in love with Leo and his photos. Charles put in great laps, but ended up only p4 alongside Russel.
Charles finished with his media duties and met up with you inside the motorhome. You were on a work call when he walked into the room. Leo was in the corner of the room scarfing down his food as if he hadn't eaten in years, his ears flopping all over the place.
You cut the call frustrated, removing your glasses from your face and placing them on your head. "Est-ce que tu vas bien?" (are you good?) he asked while holding you from the side and kissing your temple. You nodded and just packed up your things while Charles gathered his things as well.
The grandstands were filled with a sea of red and occasional yellow. Your outfit consisted of only red, yellow and black. Charles had left for the paddock earlier, so you made plans to have breakfast with Rebecca and leave for the paddock together.
You walked around before the race with Leo on the leash in front of you, Rebecca by your side. "So, how is wedding planning going?" she asked, her beautiful scottish accent making you smile. "We are still looking at venues. All we know is that it's going to be sometime in August of next year."
The drivers would soon be called for the national anthem. So, you went back to the Ferrari garage looking for your soon-to-be husband. You found him sitting next to Arthur, water bottle in hand. Leo instantly ran towards him and began climbing up his dad.
"Just do your best. Give it your all. Je t'aime tellement." (i love you so much) you sent Charles off with a hug. Leo was fast asleep in his carrier, so you joined Arthur down in the garage. You put on the large red headphones and waved at the camera when you saw yourself on the broadcast.
Halfway through the race, it hit you that Charles could possibly win. It was a stretch considering he was attempting a one-stopper. But as lap after lap went by the possibility of that dream coming true seemed more and more likely. His tires were probably gonna look like chewed-up bubblegum by the end of the race, but if he managed them just right...
He did it. He fucking did it. The roar of the Tifosi was stronger than ever. Unlike his last win, this time you were not seated. You were jumping up and down, cheering as loud as you could, matching the energy of the Ferrari team members around you. Some of them hugged you.
While Charles was finishing his cool-down lap, the mechanics and other team members rushed out to greet Charles in parc ferme. You stayed close to Arthur, knowing that you could possibly get pushed in the wrong direction. With a hand around your back, he guided you to the front where you could see the beautiful red car pull up.
Charles came running toward the team, moving quickly to try and hug everyone possible. As he moved from Arthur to hug you, from the corner of your eyes you could see more cameras making their way towards you. FLASH! And that was how one of the iconic photos of Monza 2024 was born. Charles' arms wrapped around you and he had his visor up, his eyes filled with so much emotion. You were smiling widely in the photo and had your hands on either side of his helmet. But the part that made the photo iconic was that your left hand was facing the camera, and in that, you had tucked away all of your fingers except the one with your engagement ring.
Winning the Italian Grand Prix as a Ferrari driver is always special, so you watched the podium celebration from inside the motorhome, wanting him to enjoy the moment with the team and the Tifosi to the fullest.
After Monza
For the next two days, the streets of Monza were filled with Ferrari flags being either hung from somewhere or people waving them around. It seemed like every other Italian was asking for an autograph from Charles or a photo with him. But it wasn't just Charles and Ferrari who were the talk of town. So were you.
That photo of you and Charles just after the race had gone viral. At first, people were freaking out, wondering if the two of you were really engaged or if it was a joke. Only when Charles reposted the photo to his story did fans really start freaking out.
Congratulations were pouring out of everyone's mouth who had seen the photo or heard of the news. You didn't mean for the news to overshadow Charles' incredible win on 38-lap old tires. But it didn't. As a matter of fact, the win and engagement news gelled well together, neither taking away from the other.
The night before the team would be heading to Maranello you and Charles laid in the hotel bed, Leo fast asleep on his own bed. "I'm sorry for not asking if you'd be fine with me announcing our engagement," you said in a soft voice while drawing shapes on his torso. Charles, who had you wrapped around his side, kissed your forehead and said, "Je suis content que tu l'aies fait," (I am glad you did it).
The next morning Charles posted a photo of a formal dinner the two of you had with not just his but also your family where the engagement was announced. Of course, Leo was in the center of the photo.
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A/n - honestly idk what i even wrote. i am tired af and just needed to get this out of my system. Hope you enjoyed reading🩵
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rafesbuzzcutseason · 22 days ago
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chasing city lights
chapter 11 - flatline
synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.
masterlist
cw: language
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after your day with rafe yesterday, the girls had so many questions and you told them everything, down to the song he wrote for you. what you didn't expect however, was that the song was going to be released in a few days time.
"i genuinely can't believe this," sarah started, "i mean him opening up to you? the commincation? the song? where is rafe and what have you done with him." she giggled.
"no y/n i don't think you understand the extent of this. like we've all been friends with rafe for a good 6 years, and i have never seen a girl have this affect on him before."
"guys stop you're making me think i'm some kind of miracle." you laughed with them.
"that's because you are a miracle." cleo joined in.
"so do you think you'll become official soon...?" sarah questioned.
"i don't know, the fans already think we are." you stated.
"the fans are fucking crazy. you'll get used to that i promise. when me and pope started dating everyone went bonkers over it." cleo reassured you.
"i guess so, it's okay i don't mind it, it's just getting used to seeing my face whenever i open twitter." you said. "whatever, we've got a flight to catch." you all finished your last minute packing and made your way into the car that was waiting for you outside the hotel.
part of you was sad to be leaving the state you had made so many memories in, but you knew heading back to new york all together was just the beginning for this new chapter for you and rafe.
once you made it to the airport, you found the rest of the boys who had left earlier as they all entered 'dad mode' and were getting stressed, john b to blame for that.
"finally you're here!" john b began as he saw you walk through the door.
"yeah thought we were gonna have to leave without you." pope said sarcastically.
"enough. we're here now aren't we?" cleo said rhetorically.
"yes ma'am" jj joined in, everyone was in agreement that cleo was the boss of the group.
you made your way to say hi to topper, who was slowly starting to become his usual self again, you assumed him and rafe had a conversation to try and clear the air.
but you eventually made it to rafe, who looked like his was patiently waiting his turn to get your attention, "hey you" he said.
"hey" you replied with a slight blush, "i didn't know you were actually going to release the song." you rushed out.
a look of concern took over him, "do you mind?" he asked worriedly.
"no! no i'm happy" you started, "but the fans are a little crazy."
"yeah i know they are and i should've warned you about that, but the best ones mean no harm and all you can try and do is ignore them." he replied.
"hard to ignore them when they're commenting on everything i post." you quietly said.
"i can say something if it really bothers you, okay?" he softly reached out to give your hand a squeeze.
"okay" you smiled at him, always putting you at ease.
"ok love birds pack it in," jj hollered "i don't think this plane is going to wait for us."
"whatever dude" rafe grinned, "ready?" he turned to you.
"ready."
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a/n: sorry guys i made this chapter a lot more smau, just as i had the idea to do the thread (which took me ages LAWD) and also wanted to get the song mentioned ! 5 points to anyone who knows the actual song and band🙈
taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation @chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover @yesshewrites1@amterasuu@babykhloutofthisworld @blushmimi  @moonywhisp3rs @rafeysworldim19 @marleymarleymarleymarley@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account@vcnillafairy @bambii1i @sammyrenae68 @popou61
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enwoso · 2 months ago
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A MERRY JOY — alessia russo x australian!reader
twelve days of christmas | day 11
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based on this request
"i wish you were going to be here for christmas" alessia pouted with a sad look on her face as you hummed mirroring her pout over facetime.
"me too baby, but i'll be back just after new years" you promised as alessia nodded, she understood that you wanted to spent christmas with your family in your home country of australia but that still didn't make her wish any less that you could be by her side for the magical day.
"i know, i just miss you" alessia sighed as you had to hide the grin from appearing on your face. "and i miss you so dearly too"
"love, i’m gonna have to go. mum's wanting some help, i'll call you when i'm going to sleep — have a good day" you quickly rambled out as she nodded, "i love you" sending you a kiss through the phone as you caught it holding it close to you, sending her one in return.
"i love you too lessi"
pressing the red button after sending each other a few more kisses through the phone, you glanced around the airport as what alessia didn't know is that her christmas wish would actually come true and you would in fact be with her for christmas.
pulling a few strings and with the help of your girlfriend's older brothers you had managed to get yourself on a flight that would get you to your girlfriends childhood home for christmas morning.
so as you spoke to your girlfriend you weren't at home and your mum definitely wasn't wanting any help as she was in actual australia while you were sat in a lounge in dubai.
but luckily you had managed to find excuses and tried your best to call alessia when you had time but also when it wasn't a suspicious time in australia so alessia as far as you knew didn't suspect a thing.
boarding your last flight which would be sending you straight to london, you sent a quick message to luca, alessia's brother, to let him know you were boarding.
him quickly replying saying he would see you on the other side but also telling you were your lift would be waiting for you once you were through.
-
after a gruelling six hour flight you had finally landed in london and it was taking everything in you not to message or call alessia and tell her you were here but you were so close to pulling off your surprise you couldn't ruin it now.
especially not after a full day of travelling from one end of the world to the other which you were definitely starting to feel the effects of as you waiting in the line for your passport to be stamped.
your eyes feeling heavy as the man behind a screen checked your passport, "have a lovely day ma'am and merry christmas" the man spoke with such joy even with such an intimidating look as you smiled wishing him the same.
you waited for your luggage as you caught luca up and told him you should be arriving in the next hour or two depending on traffic — him just telling you about your blonde girlfriend who wasn't even awake and to be honest you don't blame her.
you wouldn't want to be awake at half seven on christmas day either.
watching out the window of the cold air that hit london as you got into the car where a driver had been waiting to take you to your girlfriend like the ending of a fairytale.
the roads winding and before you know it your on the last little stretch which takes you to her childhood home, remembering the roads from the very first time she took you home to meet her parents.
sending a quick message to luca telling him you were only a few minutes, you started to get a weird feeling in your tummy. your head wondering how she would react and how much you could wait to be back with her.
it may only have been a few weeks but those weeks had felt like years especially when your used to living together and seeing and being with each other 24/7.
getting out the cab, thanking the driver and now it was time for you plan.
place your luggage at the side of her childhood home where it couldn’t be seen from the front door.
then place the flowers which had photos of the two of you that you’d printed and placed in the bunch while in the cab. putting a card addressed to her next to it on the door mat.
hide around the side of the house, which was close enough from the front door you’d still be able to hear everything said.
ring the door bell, wait for the code word from luca. ‘maybe’
"less it's for you!" luca called back as you gave him a small thumbs up, placing the flowers you had bought from the only shop you could find open on christmas day on the doorstep.
hearing the complaints from your girlfriend as she walked to the door, luca disappearing but not too far as you had asked him to video it.
"luca there's nothing there?" alessia complained as she looked around clearly not looking down at the floor where the flowers were, "oh...awh"
"who they off?" luca asked as if it wasn't obvious with the big red roses that were in them.
"who do you think?" alessia deadpanned, holding up the note which was attached to them. "how on earth has she managed to get someone to deliver them on christmas day?" alessia asked more thinking out loud as her brother just shrugged knowing exactly how you had got them there.
"maybe you should ask her" luca shrugged his head pointing to the door where you were now stood as alessia had her back to the outside as she stood in the doorway of her front door.
"well she'll be-" alessia trailed off as she caught a glimpse of movement as she was about to move and shut the front door but instead a gasp came from her.
"oh my god-" alessia screamed seeing you as she dropped the flowers, as you stood with your arms open waiting for her to jump into them and that she basically did.
"hi lessi baby" you mumbled in her ear as she gripped you tight, you doing the same back having missed her dearly even if you had been away for only two weeks — in your two books that was a long time.
"i- how?" alessia as much as she didn't want to incase you disappeared pulled away from the hug, her hands still resting on your hips as you kept a smug smile on your face.
"well i must admit i had some help-" you paused as alessia's brow deepened before she clicked who you were looking at, "you knew!"
"well duh who do you think managed to get her here?"
alessia was still in shock as she looked at you, yous told with the biggest smile on your face which was no leaving any time soon.
“should we go inside?” you asked as you tucked a strange of her hair behind her ear noticing the goosebumps which were appearing on her arms from the cold air.
alessia nodding as she let one of her hands fall from your waist as you moved towards getting your suitcase which you’d hidden round the side where you were waiting, “i’ll get it!” alessia called out as she quickly walked in front of you to get it pushing it into her childhood home.
“luca? who was at the door?” you heard carol, alessia’s mum, call out from the kitchen as it could be heard that the front door was finally shut.
“just y/n” luca called back so casually as he made his way into the living room, leaving you and alessia to have some time for it to actually settle in that you were here.
“what- she’s in- oh y/n!” carol smiled as you walked over hugging her mum as her dad also joined in to see what the whole noise was about. you also getting a welcome hug from her dad.
“thank goodness your here, alessia’s never stopped moping about” her mum whispered in your ear as you hugged her, a small chuckle coming from you as you hummed. “so i’ve heard”
“mum, dad i love you both but can i have my girlfriend back.” alessia asked with a sweet smile as you shook your head at her clinginess. her mum and dad letting out a laugh as they passed you back assuring that you would catch them up on all things australia and what their other son, giorgio was up to while he was in your home town in australia.
“you don’t want any-“ you began to offer as alessia was beginning to drag you up the stairs, you forcing your heels in but it not exactly working from the sheer strength your girlfriend had compared to you.
“oh don’t be silly y/n, you go and spend some time with moody pants” carol chuckled as she waved off your offer before spinning on her heels to go back to help her husband prepare the christmas dinner.
“oi i heard that!” alessia pouted as you were now half way up the stairs, you reassuring the blonde with a sweet kiss as alessia kicked her door open with her foot.
your lips still on hers, a feeling you had been imaging on the plane after not seeing her for a few weeks. alessia strategically moving you around her room as the kiss grew more deeper and sloppier.
“i’ve missed you so much, my love” alessia breathed out before planting her lips back into yours, this time slipping her tongue in as your hands reached to find the back of her head drawing her in even closer — if that was even humanly possible.
the rest of the day was spent with alessia by your side, sharing kisses which you’d been longing for while you were back home. but most importantly you were just happy being in her warmth and surrounded by her family — it made christmas away from home that little bit more merry and joyful.
even if you were snuggled up fast asleep against alessia in the living room after your christmas dinner by 3pm because of jet lag, alessia fingers drawing shapes on your arms as you slept.
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absolutebl · 3 months ago
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GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels
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This is the point where I remind you that GMMTV announced 16 BLs for 2024 and didn't actually release 4 of them in 2024: My Golden Blood, Ossan‘s Love, Sweet Tooth Good Dentist, and The Ex-Morning.
So despite the fact that these are from GMMTV 2025 line up, some of them will not happen until 2026, and some could get dropped entirely or have cast changes.
I'm not including the GLs, grab bags, or possible bromances. Confirmed full-tilt gay af only.
In order of ones I'm most excited about.
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Dare You to Death
trailer
JoongDunk as police investigators in a mystery suspense thriller. Yes, I'm in. This is it. This it the one I wanted to instantly watch. Even though their's 20 BLs airing right now.
This is the only trailer I immediately rewatched.
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Boys in Love
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Our only true high school BL from GMMTV and it's fresh faces for the youths and old favs for the teachers. It's milk teeth Make it Right and that is perfectly fine with me! I like lotte milk. Also DIMPLES! Yay! I suspect they're using this one to test some new pairs for future seasons. Like a Project 101 Thai BL. (Honestly I just invented an amazing reality TV for you GMMTV, you're welcome.)
Like My School President was in 2023, this could be a major 2025 sleeper hit for me.
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Memoir of Rati
trailer
Sing the praise song with me BLabies! GreatInn in a HISTORICAL with a class divide and everyone's favourite side couple! Be still my heart! I'm beyond pleased. (Also I got my boat in a lotus pond at last.) My only concern is this could end sad, it's in the title after all.
This is the only trailer that gave me chills.
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My Magic Prophecy
trailer
Paranormal mystery with a fortune teller and a doctor. I'm in. I hope the script doesn't fail JimmySea again, they are such a great pair. I'm intrigued by this one but it felt the most formless of all the trailers, so I'm thinking we could see some significant tweaks.
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Me and Thee
trailer
A photographer gets involved with the mafia? OMG is this a Thai dupe for Target the Finder? Only mixed with Cyrano? WILD. I mean to say, this one is wild WILD! Plus Est (my love) back in suits and ear dongles I see. Also GMMTV never gonna let us forget they bagged two of BL's best bods with PP, thanks all for the visuals.
Of course this is for me. I'm the shallowest, remember? Plus I love a BL that's just a little bit...... well...... stupid.
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A Dog and A Plane
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A prissy gay flight attendant in a push-pull relationship with an EMT dude-bro. Characters are a bit throwback to PeteKao (no bad thing) not to mention the looming shadow of What the Duck? (bad thing). But the side couple is the always appealing MarcPoon.
Okay GMMTV, surprise me, I'm game. And you know TayNew are my OG GMMTV pair du jour.
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Cat for Cash
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Finally something fluffy with a pair I like. Looks cute. I like cute. Yay for me! Adorable gay boys and cats.
This one is basically made to be a tumblr comfort meme meets thirst trap. I see what you're doing GMMTV and I applaud you. Carry on.
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That Summer
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The only side pair to seriously level up. Okay so amnesia is my least favourite trope, and I tend to not be wild about secret identity either, but I like both pairs in this one, so I'll watch.
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My Romance Scammer
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New couple! My boys Ohm and Fluke (no, not that Fluke, the one from My Ride). Honestly, Fluke has popped up as a side in a couple GMMTV shows I was wondering who they'd BL him with.
This could win. Prettiest human on earth paired with the world's most potent single dimple. Will I survive? I honestly don't know, because Ohm historically doesn't have much chemistry with anyone but the original Fluke so... Still I l do love JuniorMark and this as a really unique premise (gay Heartbreakers), so I'm game.
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Head 2 Head
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The Boo kids are back. I don't love this pair (I find their chemistry and acting awkward) or the main trope (E2L) but I do like the new sides and their trope (2nd chance is a fav of mine). So this one will depend on whether those are full side dishes or just crumbs.
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Ticket To Heaven
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GMMTV is doing Boy Foretold by Stars concept? Interesting, did not have religious boundary pushing and bildungsroman down on he Thai BL bingo card.
This isn't my thing but I think G4 are actually going to be amazing in it and I certainly look forward to them pushing their acting chops. Not to mention the discomfort something like this can cause in general/global viewership. I like it when BL makes people (who aren't me) uncomfortable.
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Burnout Syndrome
trailer
GMMTV doing edgy is never a good thing IMHO, and in this one they're handling sex work. *shakes head* However, Not Me is the noted exception and this is that same pair with the same director. So I'm curious if not wild about the content.
That said, I'm delighted to see Gun with someone else (Dew is a stunning choice, thank you Casting) even if only for a love triangle moment. It's been a WHILE.
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Melody of Secrets
trailer
Not wild about ForceBook, do like a mystery, don't like horror or psychological thrillers... not sure on this one.
I like BL pushing into new territory, even if it's not my territory, but this is defiantly not made for me, that's for damn sure.
And that's the end of my list.
"But wait," you cry. "P'ABL you're still missing some."
How Dare
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Only Friends Dream On
trailer
Yeah, no fuckoff. I will not be watching this. I already marked it pink on the Spreadsheet of Doom. (Pink means CNF or an automatic no watch for me.)
But dude was it nice to see all those pairs busted. That's always a good time for me. Anyway, all you so-n-sos who gave the first one your eyeballs are to blame for this. Watch it n weep. Without me.
(Side note: I love it when a title reviews itself, Only Friends: Dream On, indeed. It's like media aptronym.)
and last and definately least......
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Love You Teacher
trailer
no
no no
NO NO
NO!!!
I do like Perth & Santa (although I'm not sold on them as a pair). But words cannot describe how much I dislike this premise. SERIOUSLY? No thank you very much. I could, just maybe, hate watch Only Friends 2, but it's gonna be hard for me to even turn this on. Infantilization and people acting like children wigs me tf out. YKINMKBYKIOK of course, but not in my BL GMMTV. Stop it! (This one also got the dreaded pink of will not watch.)
More Disappointments
Thor didn't get the lead in anything. (Pouts in "but he so sexy.")
No major pairs were significantly busted.
Tonally it's gone darker than I expected. I prefer lighter fluffier BL so this tonal shift for GMMTV as a whole is not a win for me personally. Should be left to Japan IMHO.
That said, most of my favorite GMMTV pairs are in my top picks to watch as well, so I'm happy for that.
I'm Intrigued Despite Myself
My favorite trailer of all was actually Wu (red thread fated paranormals are my favoritest thing ever next to isekai) but that's not a branded pair so I'm not convinced it's BL. Hoping it is, but that happened in 2024 with these boys, so I'll leave it in the air for now.
I like that we're making push to leave uni and high school behind (don't worry, other Thai studios will fill the gap). I think GMMTV is doing this in order to
keep branded pairs together and
keep the actors of those pairs interested in the BL scripts.
As their major pairs age out of uni, GMMTV has to hand them more meaty and grown up stuff. I didn't think they would actually do this, so I'm pleased to see it happen. Even if it's all going darker than I like, at least it's different.
I don't really report on GL and I rarely have time to watch it these days. I thought the new MilkLove looked cute, but I'm still recovering from whatever happen in their last one. The Girl's Rules one looks like a light-weight L-Word. Still happy to see GMMTV move out of school for thier few GLs too.
(source)
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leascorner · 11 months ago
Text
j.s. | Welcome home
Summary: After a mission, Jake gets some well deserved break at home. However the week might not turn out how he had planned.
Pairing:  Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x childhood bff!f!reader
Warnings: Angst, mention of death and near death experience, mention of break-up, probably inexact american army facts, ever most likely inexact description of Texas, mention of food, two idiots in love, happy ending
Word Count: 9.2k
A/N: I've said it before, I will say it again. The only trope that I can write/read about Jake is a childhood/best friends to lovers, don't fight me. I also see Jake as an older brother to two half-sisters his mother had with a very good man, after his father abandonned them. This is my canon.
Anyway, this is way too long and way too chaotic but I just couldn't stop writting so enjoy!
Masterlist
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Y/N was literally hopping up and down with impatience - or perhaps was it the three cups of coffees she had drunk to be able to keep up with the 2-hour-long drive to the airport in the middle of the night. She was standing on the arrival floors, on her tiptoes, trying to locate the person she was picking up. The flow of travellers coming through the arrival doors was continuous, so many blond heads coming through and none of them was his.
Her childhood best friend’s flight had landed a dozen of minutes prior; 3:28 a.m. was the time she received a “be right there, see you soon” text. Ever since then, the seconds had been going past very - very - slowly and with every second passing, Y/N chest had got narrower from anticipation to the point she felt like she couldn’t breathe. It hadn’t been more than a year and a half now that they had seen each other in the flesh. Of course, there were the texts, the emails and the FaceTime calls, but it was never the same.
“Jake!”
The sea of people in front of them seemed to split in half to let them collide in one another. The said Jake let his bag fall to his feet to catch a flying Y/N, lifting her from the ground as if she weighted nothing. Her hands found the back of his neck and her head found the crook of his neck, reuniting their bodies as if they were only one mind.
“Hey sweetheart,” he sniffed her hair, intoxicating himself from her perfume.
Jake let her down reluctantly when he realized they were in the way of other people reunions. After swinging his bag over his shoulder and dragging her near a row of seats, he finally took a good look at her, dark circles under puffy red eyes and hair all other the place. He dried her tears softly and kissed the top of her head, something he was sure he hadn’t done since they were in high school and that fucker of Chad had broken up her heart - thinking of it now, it seemed like it was a lifetime away. However, he knew that in this moment there was no sadness in her tears. She was crying probably a little happiness to seeing him again, but most certainly a lot of relief to have him alive in front of her.
He took another step back to have an even greater look at her. Y/N was exactly how he last saw her one year or so ago, and exactly how she looked like even all the other times he had to leave. She did not seem to age, and he was sure that the fine smile lines she was now wearing had always been there. It brought comfort to his heart to know that whatever would happen, she would always be waiting for him. He knew it was also selfish, but he had made peace with those thoughts a long time ago. These were moments that he was collecting in his mind for when he was somewhere overseas, fighting for his life.
“My my, did you grow up a few inches?”
“Oh, shut up!” Y/N laughed and tried to nudge him in the ribs. Jake easily grabbed her right elbow to bring her closer in another embrace, so very glad to be home, even only for a little while.
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Ventilation was swinging litters of hot air into the car's cabin as it was a rather chilly night for October in Texas. The full moon was lighting up all the roads in front of them, just as if it was making sure they would get home safely.
During the drive, the main discussion turned around how excited everyone would be to have him there. Y/N and her parents were the only ones to know about Jake’s surprise visit; they had only known for about three days before his flight landed that he unexpectedly got a week of leave. They would surprise his family later that day for lunch - only after they both had a rather long nap to make up for the sleepless night.
Jake had seen his family a couple more times than Y/N this past year and a half. Even if he considered Y/N to be family, this wasn’t exactly the rule of the administration. Blood family had some more privileges, like sometimes visiting for the holidays. His mother and one of his little sisters also visited him in Singapore when he was stationed there for an exercise in the Taiwan Strait; they had booked a vacation to be able to see him there. Y/N, at that time, had been unavailable - she had her own life after all.
It was what Jake found the more difficult; to keep up with her life. Most of her friends were common friends from high school. With her going to a different university and later with her different jobs, some of her friends were total strangers to him. However, they all seemed to come and go into her life, leaving more or less damage.
“I am sorry about you and Nick.”
Y/N finished getting back to the right line of the highway and removing the blinker, before glancing quickly in Jake’s direction. He was looking at her, with an expression she couldn’t quite read, but that she understood as some kind of gladness. She sighed while turning her focus back on the road.
“You can lie better than that, Jake.”
“Well, didn’t like the guy so…”
It had been a couple of months now than her longtime boyfriend Nick and she had broken up. What confused Jake the most was how this was not a topic for discussion. She hadn’t called crying; she did not seem to be angry. She just announced it to him like it was nothing and directly switched subject. He hadn’t found a way to bring it back on the table, so he asked their friends and family. They all had the same answer; she was doing fine. She seemed to have continued her life just like nothing had happened.
“Was it him-”
“It was me,” Y/N cut him off quickly abruptly, leaving Jake with an uneasy feeling. She sighed again, probably realizing how harsh her tone had been. “This wasn’t working out anyway.”
Though she could not see him, Jake nodded back acknowledging her response. He still felt like there were more to it, but he understood that now wasn’t the time to discuss it. Ever since they had known each other - and it went back to kindergarten, they hadn’t had many secrets for one another. And if they had, it was never anything major.
So, he shook off this feeling and gently grabbed her hand resting on the gearshift to squeeze it softly.
“I do am sorry, though.”
“I know.”
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It was nearly six in the morning when Y/N pulled up in her parents’ driveway.
The porch light was on, welcoming them, making sure Jake knew he was expected, and it made him smile fondly. It still felt surreal somehow; after everything, he was home. Getting out of the car, he breathed the fresh air of Texas like he hadn’t breathed in years.
Y/N was already opening her trunk, getting out a duffel bag that seemed to contain some clothes for today. Jake jogged toward her before she was able to get his own khaki bag out. She rolled her eyes, smiling, when he gently slapped her hands away to take care of it.
“Mom set up a spare bed in my room,” Y/N informed him while walking to the front door. “Just like the old days.”
And nothing in the house had changed either.
The hallway was still a drive along memories with all sorts of pictures hanged upon the wall. Y/N’s parents wedding portrait. Y/N’s baby pictures. Y/N on the day of the start of her first kindergarten year - just before they met each other. A couple more of first day of school pictures - this time with him in it as well. A couple of family vacation pictures. And along with them, a couple of pictures of events he wasn’t even there to attend. Y/N’s university graduation, her parents’ thirty-year anniversary celebration party, her first promotion celebration dinner…
The kitchen was still on the right, the living room on the left and straight ahead the stairs to the bedrooms. Y/N’s bedroom still had Justin Timberlake poster hung up on the walls along with some pictures of friends and family. The teddy bear he won for her at the funfair when they were not even ten stood on her bed. Jake swore that if he opened the dresser, he would still find the shelf that was for his stuff back then.
Without many words, both of them got ready for bed. Y/N took the en-suite bathroom first and when Jake got back in his sweatpants, she was already in bed, cuddling Mister B the teddy bear. His chuckle made her look up to him with sleepy eyes and quickly look away when she realized he didn’t wear a shirt. He kissed her on her forehead before tugging her more tightly in her sheets and turning off the bedside lamp.
“Do you remember when I couldn’t sleep unless someone was holding my hand?”
Jake only hummed in answer, and even in the darkness of her room, his hand found hers instinctively. Their fingers intertwining immediately, he did just as he had promised when he was only just a kid; he never let it go.
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“Son,” Y/N’s father spoke from the other side of the kitchen, “don’t worry about it.”
Jake shook his head, smiling, before proceeding with what he was already doing: loading the cup he had used to drink coffee in the dishwasher. Ever since he had been up earlier that morning, Y/N’s parents had pampered him with all their attention while also being busy preparing lunch. Every time he asked if they needed help, they would assure him he just needed to stay put in his seat.
It had always been like this, for as long as he had remembered. Whenever he had gone over when Y/N and he were still in middle school, her parents had always taken good care of him, making sure the crust of his PB&J sandwiches were cut off, putting on his favourite beddings when they were having a sleepover, drying his clothes in the air dryer when they came home soaking wet from the park. He felt loved in a different way than he did at home, where he had a hard time adjusting to his new family dynamics with his two younger step-sitters. Growing up, they continued on listening to him and caring for him. Y/N’s father was the one he went to for advice before he enrolled. Ever since, and with the little time he had with them every time he came home, it still hit him in the face how much they loved him like he was their own son.
“Do you need help with anything?” He asked once more.
This time, they did not have time to answer. Y/N appeared on the doorstep, changed out of her pyjamas, hair still wet. “The shower is all yours, Jake.”
She watched him go as if she had to make sure he remembered the way to her room. She hadn’t really realized yet that he was really here, with them, and feared that he would just disappear at any minute or that she would just wake up from whatever dream she was having. Somehow this also seemed to be all too familiar, like a play they had rehearsed a hundred time before. It broke her heart a little to know this was most likely not going to happen again before a very long time, that it could actually never happen again.
Y/N got this thought out of her head as soon as it came. She didn’t need to think about this. Not now. Not ever. She just needed to enjoy whatever time she had with him at home.
“He looks good,” her mum stated once Jake had made it to the top of the stairs.
“Yeah, he does,” Y/N spoke softly, eyes lingering to where Jake had been only a couple of seconds before, suddenly wondering if he was really as good as they thought.
When Jake got back to the kitchen the entrance clock had just struck eleven. Only sixty minutes until he would be reunited with his family. It never felt more real, but he couldn’t quite realize it. He was so used of being far away from them, totally disconnected from their realities, hearing their news after everyone else. Yet, he had always found them as he had left them, eyes watering to see him home or gone.
He joined Y/N on the vegetable preparation. Washing, peeling, cutting kept him busy while the anticipation started to build up. All while Y/N’s father asked him about what new manoeuvres he had learned. Being an aviator himself, they could talk about flying for hours to Y/N’s greatest damn; she had the biggest fear of flying - and perhaps the fact that Jake nearly crashed them while flying an old aircraft he had restored with her father when they were teenagers had something to do with it.
“These boys,” Y/N’s mother sighed playfully as Jake and Y/F/N were debating whatever solar planes were the future of aviation. Y/N smiled as she shared a knowing look with her mother, who was getting ready to lay the table in the dining room.
“Mom, hold on,” Y/N called before reaching inside the cupboard next to her, “you are missing a plate.”
“Why? Is Mark coming after all?”
Y/M/N’s face went white in only a second as she realized what she had just said. Not knowing what to do else, Y/N handed her the white plate. Looking sideways to Jake, she hoped he hadn’t heard - she didn’t want him to find out like this, when his whole family was going to be here in the next thirty minutes.
It was already too late though; Jake’s attention had of course switched to their awkward interaction. Her father was quick to step in, wiping his hands on a cloth and moving towards his wife.
“Of course he is, darling. Let me help you bring those into the dining room.”
Y/N watched them disappear before quickly turning back to the carrots she was now cutting in a Julienne, praying Jake would just drop the subject. Ever since she had learned that Jake was having a leave, she had planned their reunion to be perfect. She had purposely lied to his family, pretending to have a very big news to share with them so they all agreed to gather even if the atmosphere was not good. She had made them promise to bury the hatchet, for “her” and most absolutely for Jack. Whatever touchy topics they would have to talk about, they could do it after.
“Why wouldn’t he come?” Jake still asked and, at that moment, she knew that whatever she would tell him would never be sufficient to not draw his suspicion any further. She couldn’t lie to him even if she tried.
“Just been busing with work lately, you know how it is.”
Without letting him time to ask more questions, Y/N went for the stoves to make sure the sauce was still reducing as it should have. She could feel Jake’s eyes burning holes on her back and could only hope he would drop the subject.
“Jake, son,” Y/F/N had just gotten back from the dining room, “would you mind giving me a hand with the roast?”
After taking a last look at Y/N, still very focused on stirring the sauce, Jake turned to her father. It wasn’t until she didn’t feel his eyes on her that she turned to look at him. She watched as her father made him took out the turkey so he could put some more butter on it. Out of the corner of his eye his father gives him a reassuring wink signalling her he had got this.
The bell rang at the exact same moment Y/N put the last plate of hors d’oeuvres at the centre of the table. Shooting a look across the piece, she saw her father squeezing Jake’s shoulder in what seemed to comfort him. She smiled shyly, trying to hide her own nervousness. Thanks to her father, Jake had nearly forgotten about the earlier incident about Mark and the reason he wouldn’t have been able to make it. He hadn’t asked any other questions, and they hadn’t given away other secrets. All was well in the best of all words, or so she still tried to convince herself. It was all that mattered.
“Just like we said, you both stay here, and we’ll bring them for you.”
Y/N watched as her parents disappeared in the hall. She turned to Jake who she now realized he was close at her side - she knew from the way his lips were set in a tight smile that he was somehow nervous. When noises started coming from the hall, Y/N grabbed Jake’s hand without thinking. She needed him to know she was there, that she would always be there, just like they promised when they were younger. It would take much more than a thousand of miles and a few hiccups to take them apart. As if he was thinking the exact same thing, Jake squeezed her hand back.
Jake’s step-dad was the first to enter the dining room. Y/N saw his eyes go from herself to Jake right next to her side, his eyes lighting up in realization. Yet, he didn’t say anything, holding a finger to his lips to let them know he would stay silent while moving further into the room as if nothing had happened. He and Jake had never been particularly close; he was a good man, a good husband, and a good father to his daughters, but Jake’s fatherly figure had always been Y/N’s father.
Next to enter the room was Jake’s youngest step-sister, Sophia. She immediately spotted him, letting out a cry and running into his arms. He crushed his sister in one of those same hugs he gave Y/N when she picked him up from the airport. It warmed her heart to see them like that. Sophia was still very young when Jake had enrolled; she was only just a kid and had grown up with the lack of his older brother. She was looking up to him so much that Y/N had sometimes to remind her that he didn’t have only qualities. He was her hero in so many ways…
Sophia’s reaction got the rest of the family - his mother, Olivia, his other step-sister, and his step-brother, Mark - in the dining room quite quickly. There were a lot of “Jake!” shouted from across the room and loads of tears, happy smiles, and hugs.
“I can’t believe he is here.” Sophia cried again; this time she was in Y/N’s arms. “And I can’t believe you lied to us.”
“Sorry not sorry,” Y/N smiled, tugging a string of her hair behind her ears before bringing her in an even closer hug if it was possible. She wasn’t sure she had seen her this happy in her life, she realized.
Y/N was an only child with a very little family. Over the years, Jake’s family had grown to be her own as well. As children first, as they were always all together at either one’s house or the others. As teenagers when his step-sisters weren’t babies anymore and they had started to be able to play more with them. She remembered helping his mom getting both of his sisters ready for school, all of them celebrating Christmas at her parents or going dress shopping for Olivia’s first prom.
Ever since Jake had been deployed on the West Coast and later overseas, they had grown even closer. There were brunches on Sundays, just the three of them, where Sophia would file them up on her latest dating adventures. There were lunches at Olivia’s office after they had taken a midday yoga class. There were breakfasts with Sophia before her classes began. Y/N had always made sure they were alright, as if she had to do it for Jake.
So far, the lunch had turned out great.
Jake had told them all about his last position and this group of pilots he had been joining overseas. Everyone had started feeding him bits and pieces of what had occurred ever since the last time he’s been home. Olivia and Mark had managed not to fight, which was a miracle in itself, per Y/N’s opinion. Jake’s mom had finally stopped crying. And Sophia seemed to have forgotten about those hard choices she would have to make once she graduated from college at the end of the year.
At least, that was the case until Jake asked about it.
“So, any thoughts yet about what you’ll do next year?”
“No, not really.”
Y/N had already seen that look on Sophia’s face. It was the same one she made when she was hesitating between an avocado toast and pancakes at the place they were used to going to brunch; every time she had been making this face, she had ended up with ordering both. Sophia eyed her tentatively and Y/N immediately shook her head no, silently pleading her not to do whatever she was thinking.
Today was not the day. Jake had only gotten back from abroad hours ago, they would have enough time to discuss it in the next couple of days.
“I am thinking of enrolling,” Sophia stated abruptly.
Boom.
The bomb had landed.
Y/N sighed, mentally cursing Sophia for needing whatever validation from him. They all had talked about this extensively for months on now. Decide to enrol was one thing, accept that one of your relative would do the same was another. She knew how Jake was; he didn’t look like it at first sight, but his family was his everything. He had made the selfish decision that could result in them losing him forever, yet he wouldn’t accept that she’d do the same.
From the deathly silence that came after Sophia’s statement, Y/N rested the cutlery on the side of her plate, bracing herself for whatever had to come. Her attitude made Jake immediately turned to her. She had never seen the wrinkle between his eyebrows this deep before. She didn’t know if it was from dread, disappointment, or anger.
“You knew?”
Jaw tight, Y/N didn’t answer, and Jake huffed - of course, she knew. How could she not? She was here, with his own family, when he was thousands of miles away fighting for his country. She was here, only a ride away, when he couldn’t even remember the last time he had enough telephone network to FaceTime them. She was there, physically with them, when he was just a ghost, present for a few days a year before disappearing for months on hand.
Y/N tried to reach out for his left arm to try and calm the whole situation down, but he moved ever so slightly she couldn’t touch him. The fire in Jake’s green eyes was incandescent. He was angry, with Sophia, with her, with everyone. And to know he didn’t even know half of it…
“Let’s not start now,” his older step-sister stepped in to try and reason him.
“Why?” Jake retorted immediately. “Wanna updates me on what is going on with Mark as well?”
Olivia opened her mouth to answer and as she couldn’t seem to find something to say, she then closed it and lowered her head. She and Mark had officially announced a few weeks before Jake returned that they were going to take some time apart. They had been married for nearly three years and they were having a rough path. They had started couple therapy, trying to make things work. Y/N couldn’t count the hours Olivia had spent on her couch, crying and eating ice-creams.
Y/N knew exactly how she felt like. The deception of thinking she had found the love of her life only to realize it was more complex than this. The sadness of loving someone and it still not being enough for the two of them to be happy. The paralyzing fear of being alone, of never being well enough.
She needed a shoulder to cry onto and a lot of love, and not to be reminded of what a failure she thought she was.
“I am sorry,” Sophia mumbled. Y/N wasn’t sure to whom she was apologizing. Jake? Them?
“You can’t seriously be thinking about it?” Jake half-shouted, pointing her finger at her like he was accusing her of the worst betrayal.
“Don’t say anything you’d regret, son.”
Y/N’s father word seemed to put some sense into him as he leaned his back against his chair, folding his arms against his chest. The distress on Sophia’s face was now palpable and she was on the verge of crying from Jake’s quite violent reaction. Though she didn’t expect Jake to be totally supportive, Y/N had not expected him to reject the idea that much either. She had thought that he would’ve still listen to her reasons, maybe try to talk her out of it, but finally make peace with the idea. Just like they had. Just like they all had when he was in her shoes.
Olivia had regained her composure and wrapped an arm around her sister’ shoulders. The look she sent Jake probably refrained him from attacking again his little sister. Instead, he chose another target for his anger.
“How can anybody be cool with this?”
Before Jake’s mom could speak, Y/N called him out. “Why could you do it and not her, Jake, huh?” She wants to be like you so bad, don’t you see?
“That’s not the same thing.”
Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes.
It made her even bitter. For all the things he hadn’t told her when he had no reason to hide it from her. For him being hurt that they didn’t want to discuss as such important topics over the phone. She would have liked to be sorry to hide all this from him, yet his reaction had only comfort her on her choice.
“You’re being unfair.”
“Am I now?” he laughed. “Excuse me for putting my life at sake and not wishing for me sister to do the same.”
“Did anybody ask you to? If anything, we would all have loved to keep you by our side.”
“Oh, I see. So, this is all my fault, right?”
The daring look he offered her made her heart jump in her chest. Her stomach was in fire; consuming her from the inside. She was tired from the sleepless nights she had for the last few months. And sad about the outcome of this lunch. And disappointed in him. And quite frankly done with his attitude.
Sighing, she gave in and looked away, throwing her napkin on her plate at the same time. Whatever this was, it was too much for her to handle. “If you’d excuse me,” she announced as she moved her chair back. “I am not hungry anymore.”
“Y/N-” he called after her, grabbing her arm to make her stay. She gave him a pained look before abruptly pulling away from his grip.
“Welcome home, Jake.”
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Jake’s face appeared once again on her phone screen.
Big bright smile, sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, forehead sun-kissed by the first rays of sunshine of spring. The picture had been taken one of the few times she had fly out to California to visit him. They had such a good time that Y/N used to hold all those memories close to her heart. Now, she couldn’t even look at it.
She couldn’t count the number of texts Jake had sent nor the number of messages he had left on her voice mail. She hadn’t read nor listened to any of them and had even decided to turn off her phone at some point during the night. She needed some time alone to take a breath and to swallow the disappointment that was forming a lump in her throat.
Despite the emotional roller coaster this day had been, she hadn't fallen asleep until late in the night, turning over in the sheet nonstop while thinking of all the comebacks she could have said to his face. And like every other night for months now, when she had finally managed to get some sleep, her worst nightmare had woken her up a couple of hours later.
It only made her feel worse and she cried all the tears in her body. It was like whatever emotion she had retained in the last year had come back to her like a wrecking ball. She was angry for all sorts of reasons all linked to Jake one way or another. She was also very sad of the situation she found herself into, of Jake having spoiled their reunion, of the spectacle she had given in front of her loved ones.
So, when she turned on her phone a few hours later, eyes still puffy and red from the lack of sleep and the crying, she didn’t hesitate to turn down his call when his smiley face appeared on her phone screen. At that time, she discovered the multiple texts and missed calls of her parents and Jake’s sisters. She sent them a quick group message, letting them know she was fine and that she would catch up later. Leaving her phone on the kitchen counter, she got ready for her day.
Her phone rang four more times while she was getting ready. She was now determined to let him know to leave her alone. She was still pissed, and she needed to compose herself. This was without counting on the doorbell ringing when she was about to answer her phone.
Stopping whatever she was doing, she made the few steps from the kitchen counter to her apartment door, opening it without even thinking who she would find behind. Much to her surprise it was the only person she didn’t want to see. Jake. Standing there, phone in his hand.
“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed when she nearly shut the door in his face.
He stopped it before it was fully closed and after a deep sigh, Y/N let him in without even giving him a look. She closed the door behind him, passing him - still without looking at him - and went to the living room. She leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing her arms on her chest much like he had done during lunch just the day before.
Jake stood in the middle of the room, watching around him. It was the first time he was in her new place, the one she started rented after she broke up with her long-term boyfriend. It wasn’t much, only a one-bedroom apartment with a sanitized decor - she hadn’t had the heart to make it her own. It was close to her work and not a too long drive from her parents; it was all she really needed.
Y/N studied him in silence. He must not have had the memo about the Texas weather at that time of the year as he was only wearing a beige sweater, sleeves rolled up. It wasn’t much of a surprise he had forgotten how it was; he had spent so little time home in the last ten years.
When her eyes finally got to his face, she realized he was now staring at her. She tried reading him like she could before, but what she found in his eyes, she couldn’t interpret. Perhaps something had been broken between them. Perhaps there were only so much absence someone could handle. Perhaps they had let the miles come in between them for real this time.
She couldn’t tell how long they stayed like this before he finally spoke.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Long gone was the hope she had that he would apologize.
Jake had never been one to be wrong; he was probably even the most stubborn person she had ever met. Though she liked this confidence in him, she also knew it was hiding something much deeper. His trauma of being abandoned by his father when he was still a toddler. The fear of his loved ones realizing what a failure he was, despite everything he had already accomplished. The fear of never being enough.
He had assured her it wasn’t one of the reasons he had enrolled, and she knew he was lying to her just as much he was lying to himself. But she wasn’t her twenty-something-self; she wasn’t going to protect his feelings anymore. Now that they didn’t have an audience, she could lay her cards on the table.
“Do you mean, just like you didn’t tell us about the ejection seat accident that you had six months ago?”
She saw his face drop ever so slightly before he regained his composure back. She wasn’t the only one keeping things from him, yet contrary to him, the things she was keeping a secret weren’t really hers anyway.
“How would you know?”
“Javy called me that time,” she stated dryly, memories of the call she got in the middle of the night flowing to her head. She still had nightmares about it most nights. “He wanted me to know in case your brain injury worsened, and they had to call your family.”
This secret, she had never told anyone and had carried the weight of it on her own until now. She had smiled and assured everyone that all was fine for the days - sixteen in total - they didn’t hear from him; how could he, he had been literally in a 24h surveillance at the hospital. She had had Javy on the phone to report every little detail he had of Jake’s evolution. She hadn’t had sleep for weeks straight and had nearly cried when Jake had called him after a very busy and unexpected mission he took part in - another way for putting he had just got cleared from the hospital.
“It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing, Jake! You got banned from flying for six weeks. Six fucking weeks!”
“And yet, it wasn’t the first time I ended up in the hospital, nor was it the last time. You know that’s part of the job.”
Y/N snorted.
Like hell she knew. The job description went with never being in the same time zone as your loved ones, missing every single milestone in their life, putting his very own safety at risk so they could all be free and safe, and omitting all details of the national security missions to which he was taking part. She was pretty sure though there was no line in his contract about lying about his health, especially when he could have died, to his family.
For some reason, this whole situation had made his absence even worse. She realized he didn’t feel safe to let them know when things had gone bad; if this time she had known, she couldn’t even imagine all those other times Javy hadn’t been there to inform her. It had awakened a visceral (and most likely also irrational) fear in her. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him and she still wasn’t ready to accept it.
“Why is this such a big deal when you knew what was going in here and didn’t even tell me?”
If she hadn’t been this tired, Y/N would have probably walked to him to slap him. How could he compare his near-death experience to his sisters’ decisions? How could any of it be equivalent?
“This was not my truth to tell,” she only replied blankly.
Yes, she wasn’t very proud of hiding things from Jake and lying on purpose. But she wasn’t thirteen any longer and when people confided in her - when she promised she wouldn’t tell him anything - she wasn’t going to go running to her best friend to spill all the tea.
“Will you then tell me the truth about what really happened between you and the other dickhead?”
“I already told you everything,” she answered dryly, a little bit too quickly for it not to be suspicious.
“I don’t believe you.”
Y/N knew from the sound of his voice it was pure provocation. He gave her the same daring look she had just seen the day before - the same consuming flame was in his eyes - and she could see his infamous smirk dawning on his lips. She wondered why he wanted to prove just how right he was - how he was always right - so bad. It made her skin scramble how infuriating he was.
She didn’t answer right away and stared at him, arms crossed on her chest a little bit tighter to protect herself. Everything that was happening was only making her angrier towards him. He had ruined everything, and he had just decided to continue on doing so.
She had dreamt about him coming home for months and months, to have him by her side and now, she could only wish for him to go away. The anger, the pain, the animosity; it was all too much. She couldn’t keep up anymore.
“What do you want me to tell you, huh? How much of a great boyfriend and man he was, but that it still wasn’t enough? How much a horrible person I am for not being able to fall in love with a person that would devote his own life to try and make me happy?”
Jake opened his mouth to respond, but closed it as the words sank in. It all made sense to him suddenly. Why she seemed to be relieved it was all over. Why she didn’t call him after he broke her heart. Why, on the rare occasion he had discussed the break-up with his sisters, they had never talked badly about her ex-boyfriend. He didn’t break her heart. He never did.
She was the one breaking his.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, this time his voice much softer.
How could she? When it all started with his accident - that she wasn’t even supposed to know of. When it took her five years of a stable relationship to realize her longtime boyfriend had never have been the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. When it took her half of her adult life to understand she had been lying to herself for almost all her life and that even now, she didn’t know her truth from her lies any more.
Knowing the truth, Jake didn’t know what to say. He wanted to feel sorry, he wanted to tell her he was. But was he really? It would be lying to say he didn’t exult when he had heard of the break-up... On the day she introduced him to Nick, they he had discussed - quite vividly - about the country actions in Afghanistan - one of the campaigns he had just come home from - and from that day, Jake had just decided he wouldn’t like the man. He hadn’t been very subtle about disliking him, but in his opinion, Nick had paid him back in his own coin: monopolizing Y/N whenever Jake had her on the phone, making her choose between the two of them when he had had the opportunity to fly her oversea. He still felt nauseous to recall how Y/N had seemed to only look at him every time Nick was in the room with them.
He made a few steps in her direction, going to comfort her, but Y/N only shook her head. She wouldn’t let any of this go so easily. It wasn’t because she had confided in him, that he now knew all the truth from her part, that everything else would be forgotten. There were still a lot of unspoken truth to uncover.
“Why are you really here, Jake?”
“What do you mean?”
“The reason you got this leave, what is it?”
They stood less than a metre away, eyes in eyes. Jake never felt so vulnerable as every time she looked at him as if she could read his soul. He knew she was looking for something. Something he couldn’t give her.
Looking away, he answered, “It’s nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Y/N slipped away before he could even react. He watched as she turned back towards the front door. She opened it without a word and looked into his eyes as she stood leaned against it.
“Goodbye, Jake.”
And this time, he didn’t even try to fight.
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Javy: Hey, got Hangman on the phone today. You okay?
Y/N: Did he vent at you for calling me that one time?
Javy: Almost.
Javy: He wasn’t really angry though. Just frustrated I guess.
Y/N: I bet. Wasn’t really the nice little break he must have planned.
Javy: If there is anything to learn from all this it is that truth is better spoken from the person they apply to.
Javy: You should talk to him.
Y/N: Yeah well I’ll see about that.
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Jake was very nervous, and he wasn’t very nervous a lot.
In fact, he was pretty sure the last time he was that nervous was when he had picked Y/N up for their senior prom. Just like every year since starting high school, she had been his date - though Chad nearly had taken her away from him, but this dumbass had broken up with her only a couple of weeks before prom. That year, for some reason, everything felt different. High school years were coming to an end, they were both going to different universities. Everything was about to change, and it would never be the same. Jake had dreaded taking their relationship to the next level. If only he had known that despite going to different universities, Jake enrolling and basically the two of them living their life in parallel, their relationship had made it.
More or less so... It had been three days now since the lunch at her parents, two since their other discussion - if he would call this an argument, he was still unsure - and today was the first time he was seeing her since then.
After spending time with his family, he was on his way to meet with some of their childhood friends. Normally, Y/N was one of them and she had been invited. But with the recent events, he didn’t know if she would be here. He had had time to reflect on what had been said and finally had apologized to her voice mail as she wouldn’t let his calls through. He had given her plenty of time and space, sending in only a couple of good mornings and good nights texts, just like he was used to. Yet he didn’t know what to expect.
When he spotted her already sat at the table he had booked, his heart started pounding furiously. It gave him hope not everything between them had been broken.
“Hey,” Jake greeted Y/N softly when he had gotten at her level.
Y/N only nodded, barely looking at him, before continuing her discussion with their friend, Monica, like nothing had happened. Jake swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing to greet everyone around the table.
In all those diners they had had with their friends when he had been home, she would have been sat next to him, so close but merely touching. He would have had his arm resting nonchalantly on the back of her chair. He would have whispered all sorts of things in her ears, and she would have laughed open light-heartedly at every single one of his jokes.
That night, she was sat as far as possible from him and he had difficulty focusing on the group discussion, his mind going back to her every time. He probably went the whole evening looking at her not so subtly in the hope she would like to give him a look. She did not.
“You good?” Matt, sat at his side, asked him after the main course.
“Yeah,” Jake answered though the little tremor in his voice didn’t reflect confidence.
“Just give her a little time. It’s just a lot, y’know.”
Jake only nodded.
The problem was indeed just that: time. His flight back was in two days now and she was supposed to be his ride. He knew she would be able to drop him off without speaking a word, while he sat there in the agonizing silence. He was sure he was not able to do it for a couple of hours, he couldn’t imagine what it would be to not have her speak to him every again. He couldn’t get back to combat with Y/N still mad at him. He needed to fix things. He had been able to do it with his sisters; he had to do it with Y/N.
Indeed, the lunch had finished soon after Y/N’s dramatic departure. His sisters hadn’t spoken another word to him, and Y/N’s parents had tried to maintain some semblance of a conversation. Jake had taken a quick walk to clear his mind before going to his parents.
He had sat down with Olivia first and then Sophia, so they could tell him everything that had been going on. He sat there listening to what they had to say until they were done. There had been a lot of crying on their side (only a tiny little bit on his side - most likely because he had a dust in the eye, he would say). In the end, they had hugged and laughed and remembered that they loved each other and that nothing could be more important than that.
He had realized Olivia seemed much more at peace, somehow differently but also similarly to Y/N’s. She had so many plans on her side - buying a house, planning a trip to Europe, getting a puppy – as if she had just discovered she could be a unique person outside her marriage and she genuinely was happier.
The talk with Sophia had been a little bit more sensitive. The idea of her enrolling made his blood boiling, but he had remained calm – or at least tried to - and listened to her reasons. If he was afraid to see himself in her, her reasons were solely different than his. She didn’t want this only to do like him; it was more that he had paved the way for her. He had made her promise to think some more about it - at least, graduate from college before deciding anything - and he had promised to be supportive. He would have some work on himself, but he would cross that bridge when he’d get there.
They had of course talked about Y/N and how she was carrying the whole family on her shoulders. She always made sure everyone was alright, answering her phone at 3 a.m. to pick up Sophia from a frat party gone wild, welcoming Olivia in her tiny apartment - giving her the only bed to sleep on the couch, despite her protest - the time she turned things round after Mark and she had decided to take some time apart. She even made sure their mother was alright when his step-dad was away for business, bringing her homemade meals that she only had to heat up and keeping her company.
If he always knew what an amazingly caring person she was, it only proved him right. He would be forever grateful she was the first person to have talked to him on his first day of kindergarten. He would be forever grateful for the woman she was. If he was honest with himself, it all made him love her even more.
He wasn’t ready to watch her from afar - well, from much far away than his current position - but he would do it (or at least try), should she ask him to…
After what seemed to be an eternity, the evening finally came to an end.
Jake didn’t get the opportunity to speak to Y/N though he hesitated multiple times to just call her out or walk to her and demand that they had a chat. She was currently bidding goodbye to everyone in front of the restaurant, and Jake was watching her attentively to ambush her just as soon as she was finished. He didn’t care if he would be rude to anyone by not saying thank you for coming and goodbye; he needed to talk to her.
After she hugged Monica and promised to let her know when she got home safely, she reached for her car key in her bag and made her way to her car without even looking at him. Jake took his luck and followed her. He called after her, but she refused to acknowledge him.
“Can we not?”
“Why?” she turned around suddenly. “Want me to tell you anything else?”
“Y/N, please.”
She only raised an eyebrow before turning back and continuing walking. Too bad for her, Jake wasn’t one to give up this easily. He followed her lead up to her car that she started to unlock to get in. A wave of panic got through him as he could feel her slip away from his fingers and he didn’t want that. If they didn’t have this talk now, he was not sure they would have it at all.
“I only have two days left,” he said, interposing himself between the closed door and her. “Please.”
Y/N froze at only a few centimetres away from him. She seemed to think about what options she had. Unfortunately for her, there just wasn’t much as she couldn’t make Jake move even if she wanted to. So, she chose the reasonable choice. She crossed her arms over her chest and listened.
“I-” he sighed, passing a hand on his face, frustration clearly visible on his face now. “There has been an incident. We lost two men.”
Y/N’s arms immediately dropped to her side; the mask she wore on her face cracked. She could have been angry he lied to her, yet again, but this time, it was too serious. People died. The command had given them time off because of it. It only reminded her it could end at any time. She really could lose him.
“Jake,” she sighed.
“I-”
His voice broke and Y/N didn’t hesitate to go in for a hug. Out of habits, his arms found her waist and he buried his face in her hair. He breathed her perfume in, trying to ground himself and not totally lose it. She was his rock. There were no ways he would still be here if it wasn’t for her waiting for him at home.
He couldn’t lose her.
“I can only imagine the worry I cause you all,” he muttered in her hair. “I didn’t want to add anything to it.”
Y/N grabbed his face with both her hands and forced him to look at her. She wore a small frown on her eyebrows and determination in her eyes. While she was touched he wanted to spare their feelings, not knowing what was going on was even worse. She couldn’t count the number of times she had thought he was dead when an unknown number had called her phone. In order to support him the best way they could, they needed to know.
“Getting you back in one piece is our priority,” she started, voice bold as if she wanted him to engrave her words in his head. “That’s why we are keeping things to ourselves. We don’t want you to worry about us when you should be solely focused on staying alive.”
Jake half-smiled in return, which made Y/N relax a bit. Her hands fall on his shoulder as he kept her close to him, so close that there was no space between their two bodies. They had realized they wanted the exact same thing for one another: for them to be safe and sound.
“I worry about you all, all the time. I worry about you, all the time,” he confessed, his voice still low.
Jake reached out to tuck a loose string of hair behind her ear and Y/N instinctively leaned in his touch. It was like this between them, easy and pure. It always had. Sometimes - like these last past days, they were so caught up in life they seemed to forget what they had was so unique. Every time they had found their way back to each other.
“I left you alone while I am off, living my dream.”
“Don’t say it like you could have made any other choice, Jake.”
“I don’t regret it,” he answered right back. “Yet if I had to do it all over again, there are a lot of things about you that I would do a whole lot differently.”
Y/N nodded slowly, her heart rate slightly going up. If they often shared I-love-you’s more out of habits than anything else - though they were always genuine, Jake had never really expressed out loud how he felt about her, and from the electricity in the air - totally different from the explosive tension that had built up until now, she could feel there were more to it.
“It’s never too late, they say,” he smiled softly, his hand making it to the back of her neck.
Y/N hold her breath, searching in his eyes if he was being serious and if he was really wanting to finish the conversation they had started the night of their senior prom. If he wanted to do it right here, right now in a parking lot. It was a conversation that could have totally changed their life if they had it. A conversation for which they every so often imagined what they would have said if fear hadn’t stopped them.
If there were much younger back then, nothing now had changed at all.
“I’ve always been yours,” Y/N whispered. It would be lying if relief hadn’t wash over Jake. Of course he had known - he had always known - yet, hearing it was another thing.
“I know.”
Y/N’s bright eyes saw his eyes dove down to her lips, only a dozen of centimetres away she realized now, then back to her eyes. Her cheeks were burning up from the anticipation of what was to come. Yet, lost in each other’s eyes, none of them moved.
At that moment, the world could have stopped that they wouldn’t have noticed. Nothing else but them mattered.
“Well, kiss me then.”
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thewritetofreespeech · 11 months ago
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Could I request Astarion and his s/o getting into a sass competition where Astarion ends up confessing to her by accident and now he's all flustered?
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Astarion x Reader
“Can’t you go any faster?”
“I’m not exactly as well versed into taking these off as I am in putting them on, darling.” Astarion quipped at you as he fiddled with the lock on your cuffs.
Being somewhat of an anti-hero liaisons these days, the group had been pinched on some trumped up but completely true & legal charges of petty theft and larceny. Your options were fight, flight, or get arrested when confronted by the guards and charges. And since you couldn’t fight a whole city’s worth of Iron Fists, and running also seemed unplausible as you’d have to come back to the city sometime, you decided to take you lumps and went to jail. Luckily, where there’s a will there’s a way. Or in this case: a vampire with a lockpick up his sleeve.
“Why did you wait to do me last anyway? Just to see me suffer?”
“Well,” Astarion cooed, “it does have a certain visual appeal.”
You clicked your teeth and rolled your eyes. “Could you just hurry up? I’m starting to lose the feeling in my hands. All the blood is rushing out of them.”
“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want that.”
“Well, if you want my blood again, you should be more sympathetic to my pain.” You told him. Sighing heavily as one arm was free and Astarion moved on to the other one.
“Don’t you threaten me. Besides, if you won’t give me what I want, I’ll just move on to some other lucky companion in our camp.”
“Ha! Like anyone else would have you.”
Astarion frowned. “I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who would welcome my teeth at their necks. Hundreds. Thousands!”
“Yeah. One blood obsessed drow and…who was the other one you tricked again?” You pulled at the shackles, which jiggled the irons and knocked the lockpick free, but unbroken. The vampire growled at you.
“I tricked you easy enough, didn’t I?”
“Only because I took pity on you.”
“Pity?!”
“Yeah.” You told him. “That poor, sad, puppy dog ‘please feed me’ look was just something I couldn’t say no to.”
Astarion growled again. “That is not how it happened. Besides, if you didn’t like it you wouldn’t keep asking for more.”
“Oh sure. Blame the victim.”
“You are not a victim!” He snapped at you. He seemed a little wounded by that one. Maybe you went a little too far. “Gods.” He cursed under his breath with a frown. “You are lucky I love you so much, otherwise I would just leave you here, chained up, and never bite you again. No matter how much you begged me.”
The lock finally snapped open and your arm fell to the side. You lifted it to rub your wrist but were uncharacteristically silent.
“Would it have been too much to expect a thank you??”
“Did you just say you love me?”
Astarion froze for a moment. A little wide eyed at your question. He seemed to be racking his brain for a moment. Trying to remember the conversation before an ‘Oh. Shit.’ expression came over his face. “What? Oh, that. Figure of speech darling, of course.” He let out a single nervous cough after that and a rushed, “let’s go meet up with the other.” Before he turned on his heels and made a speedy exit.
You rub your wrist one more time as a soft, shy smile came to your lips behind his back. You follow after him and meet up with the others. Waiting just outside the prison for the two of you, as apparently just around the corner was enough of an escape from the mighty Iron Fist.
“Ah! I just love this fresh air.” You exclaim, followed by more comments on how dusty & dank your cell had been, but really just watching Astarion’s shoulders tense.
You spent the rest of the day subversively tormenting Astarion. Making comments on how much you loved the weather, or loved a dress in a window. How much you loved dinner that night. How much you loved getting a good night’s rest that night.
By the time everyone had gone off to their respective tents for the evening, Astarion had apparently had enough and slunk up to yours. “I know what you’re doing. Now stop it!” He hissed.
“But I thought you’d love it.”
“Stop it!” He hissed again. If he could right now, he would blush. You were tempted to let him feed on you for a moment to get the full effect. “I mean it! How would you like it if I threw every verbal misstep in your face? I don’t keep bringing up the time you said Ibis instead of Ignis, now do I??”
It was pretty funny when that bird showed up.
“So, are you upset that you said it and I’m teasing of you, or are you upset that you didn’t mean it and I keep bringing it up?” You honestly didn’t know which answer would be worse at this point. You felt bad you had wounded his pride to the point that he came to talk to you. But you also don’t think you could take it if he told you that he didn’t love you.
Astarion just stood there for a moment, thinking, before he sighed and waved you off. “Just…knock it off ok. I’ve had quite enough today. I’m going to get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”
He turned to walk away and just before he fell out of ear shot you called to him. “Hey Astarion,” he looked back over his shoulder at you, “I love that you could come and talk to me about this.”
He huffed, but you could see the corners of his mouth struggling to keep down. “Oh shut up.”
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ferrarifinnick · 1 year ago
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time zones | charles leclerc 16
charles leclerc x reader
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in different cities, plagued by different time zones, charles misses your phone calls once again. suddenly things don't seem so sustainable anymore.
note: hate to do it to you, but here's some angst. get those tissues ready and prepare to clutch those pearls. also, first charles fic! what do we think? love <3
masterlist
warnings: angst, long distance relationship, miscommunication, heartache, sad charles poor charles :(
700 words
7:02am.
Charles stared at the blurry numbers on his phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen and the sunlight pouring into his bedroom. He squeezed his eyes shut when he noticed the notifications from you. Three texts, two calls. All unanswered.
The first text, at 11:58pm.
I just finished work. I'll call you on the way home. Can't wait to hear your voice. I need it.
Charles' chest hurt. 11:58pm, minutes after he must have dozed off. He had tried so hard to keep his eyes open but his day had been so long and sleep was fighting a good battle against him.
At midnight is when the first missed call came through. It would've been 5pm for you. You would be getting out of work and Charles would be about to get into bed. You would've just got to your car, set up Google Maps, and called him. That was the only time you could find to chat to each other lately, and Charles had missed it.
Worse yet, he let you drive home with the disappointment of waiting all day to hear his voice, only to still be alone come night time.
Twenty six minutes later, at your 5:27pm and his 12:27am, the second text came through.
I made it home safe. I saw you got P2, congratulations! Very well deserved my love. Are you still awake?
That's when the next call came through.
Charles knew that you'd have been upset when he didn't answer. He knew you'd be holding back the intrusive thoughts. The what-ifs, the tears, the disappointment. It would have been keeping you up much later when you'd be trying to sleep. But he knew what was really eating at you was the hope that he would wake up and light up your phone with an incoming call.
He knew it was true when he saw the text at your 11:03pm and his 6:03am.
I think we've missed each other tonight. I was looking forward to hearing your voice, but I hope you celebrated that win well. Congratulations on P1 my love, well deserved. Goodnight.
He stared at the time of your last text, your 11:03pm and his 6:03am. One hour ago. You'd barely been asleep for an hour and here he was waking up to start his day. By the time you'd wake up, he'd be in meetings. By the time he'd get out, you'd be in work. By the time you'd finish, he'd be going to sleep.
Charles squeezed his eyes shut. Distance was never easy, but this wasn't the first time you'd missed your small window to talk to each other. It had been happening a lot lately. He knew it was hurting you because it was killing him.
He opened the tab on his phone of flights that neither of you could take. He was stuck where he was, and you were stuck elsewhere. There was never time. Something always changed the circumstances for the worse, and Charles sank his shoulders in defeat.
He deleted the tab on his phone.
Opening your messages, he sent his own reply.
Good morning, mon amour. I'm sorry we missed each other last night. I hope you're sleeping well. I'll call you after you finish work.
He stared at your missed calls again. There was nothing he could do except stare at them and wish they weren't real.
The alarms he forgot to set would have urged him out of bed over half an hour ago, and so he got himself up and dressed for the meeting he was about to be late to, but he couldn't open the door of his lifeless hotel room.
Guilt gnawed at his stomach. It wasn't fair of him to make you live this way for him. You deserved more than a short phone call every couple of days, and he realised that the only way for that to ever change was if you were here with him.
But he knew deep down that following him around the world wasn't what you wanted. While he could give you security, he couldn't give you stability. That's what you wanted more than anything, and that's when he finally realised, after suffering the long distance for so long, that there were two things in life that meant most to him.
The job and the girl.
He wanted both. But as he opened the door of his hotel room, he realised he could only have one. He had to pick. But he knew it wasn't really a choice. There was only one option.
And it wasn't the girl.
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flemingsfreckles · 6 months ago
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Be Home Soon
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Synopsis: based off this request! Jessie has some hard feelings about being away from you and your kids so much, you do your best to reassure her.
Warnings: it’s a little sad, but nothing major.
WC: 1.7k
A/N: as I joked, this could be my last Jessie fic. I have a fear that seeing her in person at the game today will make me feel ~weird~ about writing for her, so we’ll see 🤷‍♀️
I also just finished writing this, gave it a quick skim and I’m posting it, so there’s bound to be errors, but I wanted it posted before I had to leave for the game.
The sound of the FaceTime call connecting has you running back over to where your phone sat. “Hi sorry, give me a second.” You quickly wave at the sight of your wife on the screen before running off to the other side of the room where your daughter sat in her playpen playing with blocks.
“Come here Kara, we’re going to say hi to Mom.” You reach down and pick up your daughter, propping her on your hip and walking back over to the phone that’s propped up against a water bottle on the kitchen table.
“Hi, sorry, it’s been a little hectic here. Kara’s been sassier than usual and Blake’s been coming down with a cold or something, I’m hoping she didn’t catch what he’s got.” Your daughter begins to whine on your hip, you gently start bouncing her, trying to soothe her fussing. “Look, it's Mom.” You point to Jessie’s face on the screen to show your daughter.
“Hi Kara, hi baby girl.” Jessie tries to pull your daughter's attention to her but your daughter is too busy pointing to the cabinet wanting a snack.
“Blake, come say hi to Mom!” You shout in the direction of your son’s room.
“Hey,” Jessie changes her tone, no longer using her high pitched baby voice, “are you taking care of yourself too?”
“Uh, yeah, just, the kids are priority.”
“Babe.” You knew she must’ve noticed the darker than usual circles around your eyes, you hadn’t been sleeping well, the empty bed next to you and a sick child were a lethal combination to your sleeping habits.
“Jess, I’m good, don’t worry.” You shoot her a pointed look over your shoulder letting her know not to push the subject at the moment. You wait a second before shouting for your son again, you hear his bedroom door open and he comes walking over to the phone.
“Say hi to your Mom.” You point at the phone.
“Hi.” Your son waves at the phone, he doesn’t sound thrilled to see your wife unlike your daughter who was repeatedly saying Mom into your ear.
Jessie starts asking him about school, she’d only been gone ten days so far, but she had missed the first full week of school for your kids. She was asking about teachers and homework and all the things she missed out on hearing about. You turn around occupying yourself with making your daughter a small snack
“When are you coming home Mom?” It was a question your son asked you frequently. When would Jessie be home, why was she gone so long, why did she always leave? Everytime he asks, your heart hurts for him. He just missed his mom, you missed her too, but playing was her job, her passion, you couldn’t ask her to step away.
“Soon, I promise, I get on a flight tomorrow night, I’ll be home the next morning.”
“I miss you, I don’t like when you’re gone.” You hear your son's sad voice from behind you. Closing the cabinet, you turn just in time to watch a flash of hurt run across Jessie’s face as she tries to fake a smile to your son.
“I know buddy, I’ll be home in two days though, you know my job makes me travel a bit.”
“I hate your stupid job.” The words sound so angry coming from your child’s mouth, your jaw drops and eyes widen.
“Blake!” You are quick to scold him. “Don’t talk to your Mom like that.”
“No, I hate it, she’s always gone.” He shouts back at you before storming off back to his room. You watch the irony, your wife’s name and number splayed across the back of the shirt he was wearing as he stomped away.
You suck in a big breath before slowly releasing it, throwing your head back, trying to compose yourself. When you tilt your head back down your met with the face of your wife, clearly hurt by what your son had said.
“Oh Jess, honey.” You grab the phone with your free hand before walking to sit down on the couch, letting Kara crawl back to her blocks.
“Sorry.” She sniffles, biting her lip and blinking hard as she looks up at the ceiling. “I just, it’s hard being away.”
“I know babe, you don’t have to be sorry.”
You watch as a tear falls from Jessie’s eye. “I know but I am, I’m so sorry. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to you, or to them. I feel like I’m never home.”
“Jessie.” You wish you could climb through the screen of your phone and engulf your wife into a hug.
“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to reassure me, you’re already doing so much. You’re the best wife, and the best mother, I wish I could be as good of a mom as you.”
“Honey. You’re an excellent Mom.” You knew there weren’t enough words in the world to make Jessie believe you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try.
“No Blake’s right, I’m hardly home, I feel like I’m always traveling, I miss important life events.”
“Jessie, you’re home plenty. It just feels long right now, it’s been two years of major tournaments.” It felt cruel for the World Cup and Olympics to be back to back. It was always a hectic two years even when you didn’t have kids, but you also couldn’t lie, when the Olympics were over it was nice knowing there wasn’t a major tournament for almost two more years.
“Yeah I guess. I just sometimes wonder if I’m making the wrong choice, still playing.” She puts her hood up on the sweatshirt she’s wearing, sitting back into the pillows of the hotel bed.
“It might not help, but I don’t think it’s the wrong choice. Jessie you’re not gone as much as it probably feels like. And I know Blake said he hates your job, he’s just having a rough day. That kid loves you and your job, he’s never not in one of your club or Canada jerseys.”
“I know I just feel bad.” You watch as she fiddles with her hands in her lap, a small quiver in her lip tells you she’s on the verge of tears again.
“Baby, when someone asks his favorite athlete, he always answers ‘my Mom’, he finds ever opportunity to talk about how his Mom is a professional soccer player, he loves watching you play, and yeah the long tournaments are harder, but I think he’d miss watching you play. Kara, she doesn’t quite understand yet, but she likes seeing you on the TV too, I don’t think it’s time for you to be done yet.”
Jessie doesn’t say anything, she just looks at you through the screen, you know she’s probably doubting herself, every tournament she’s played in since your kids were brought into the world, every weekend she’s away. Her heartbroken face upset you. You sit for a moment before starting again.
“And Jessie, you take the time to call, you call them before and after every game, you call every single night, you haven’t missed one. You read them bedtime stories over the phone. You’re still an excellent Mom to them, it’s from a distance sometimes but you still make the time. There’s plenty of parents who wouldn’t, plenty of parents who go on work trips and don’t bother with even one call. And when you’re home, you’re their favorite person, you play with them and you teach them all the silly little facts you store in that brain, you show them how to be good humans and that is so important.”
“It’s not just Blake and Kara though, it’s a lot of extra work that gets put on you.”
“Yeah, but I knew that.” You shake your head slightly with a smile. “Honey you’ve been a professional athlete our entire relationship, I’ve sat through World Cups and Olympics, and the weekends away, it’s not new to me. I knew what I was signing up for when I asked you to marry me, I knew what I was signing up for when we started talking about kids, I knew what I was signing up for when we actually had our babies.”
Jessie just nods along to your words. You reach down, picking up Kara who had wandered over and was hanging on to your leg. You place her on your lap, adjusting the phone so Jessie could see her.
“And Jessie, despite knowing you’d be gone, and busy occasionally, I couldn’t imagine my life without you, I wouldn’t have this life without you.” You look down to where your daughter had stacked a small block tower. “I love you Jess, you’re an amazing wife, and an even better Mom. You working, doesn’t change that.”
Jessie’s now got tears in her eyes again. She reaches over grabbing a tissue from the bedside table before wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. “Sorry, I love you, you’re incredible and I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“You deserve the world Jessie.” You say before you hear your son's bedroom door open. You hear the small pats of his feet before he’s standing across from you, his freckled face reminiscent of your wife.
“Hi Blake.” You say, letting Jessie know he was back in the room.
“Hi. I’m tired. Can Mom read me a story?” He asks, pointing at the phone. You look down to see Jessie’s face break into a small smile.
“Sure buddy.” She answers before you get the chance.
“Of course.” You shoot Jessie a smile on the phone. You give her a smile before handing the phone over to your son. “I’m going to hand you to Blake, I love you, we’ll talk later.”
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rafesbuzzcutseason · 29 days ago
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chasing city lights
chapter 6 - you look good
synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.
masterlist
cw: lanuguage
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you headed out of bed and made your way downstairs to where everyone was having breakfast, a rush of nerves taking over you entered the room, searching for the group.
you could feel rafe's gaze on you before you even looked in his direction, and when you did, you could see his eyes narrow, his look unreadable.
"there you are!" sarah spoke, "thought we were gonna have to leave without you." she laughed.
"don't be silly i just needed my beauty sleep." you laughed back. "what's the plan for today?"
"thought we could have a walk around a bit before we had to drive back?" cleo asked.
"sounds good" you said as you grabbed some pastries. "you gonna come rafe?" you asked him directly as he was yet to address you.
"i will if you are" he said quietly, making your heart skip a beat, his remark not going unoticed by the rest of the group.
jj cleared his throat, and a small smile played on sarah's lips, enjoying the small interaction between the two of you. "alright lets get going then, you guys ready?" she said.
"yeah lets go" topper said bluntly, a shift in his usual upbeat demeanour, but he quickly bounced back as you all made your way outside.
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after a few hours walking around, you all made your way back to the hotel to pack up your things and get ready for the drive home. the boys had a flight to san francisco for their show before they were headed to LA for their last nights on tour there.
you had all made a rough plan to fly out to LA for the last show, making sure the whole group was there to celebrate the end of tour.
as everyone made their ways to their rooms, you hung behind with rafe, walking slower than the rest of the group, intenitally from you, and hoping it was for rafe also.
"how are you feeling to be finishing the tour?" you asked him, breaking the silence.
"sad, but ready for a long break and to spend some time at home" he replied leaning against the door as everyone got into their rooms.
you nodded understandingly, "LA will be good though. it'll be my first time there."
"no way? i'm gonna have to show you around then." he responded smugly.
"yeah?" you pushed.
"yeah." he smiled, "can't have you lost in the streets of LA now can we?" his height meaning he had to lean closer to you to get his words across.
"i guess we can't."
"i'm happy you're gonna be there." he added
"you are?'
"course." he responded quickly. "always nice to know there's a pretty girl in the crowd cheering me on." and with that, he turned away from you and made his way to his own room, leaving you flustered and stuck in your stance, taking in his words. pretty girl?
as you went to open the door, it flung open and sarah dragged you in.
"oh my god not to be a CREEP but i heard that all" she said excitedly. "y/n he likes you. i knew it i knew it!" she shut the door with an exagerated slam, not even giving you time to process what just happened.
"lord sarah what just happened." your voice barely above a whisper.
"he literally just called you pretty. i KNEW he was acting different around you, he's been so nervous." she squealed.
"are you sure it wasn't just rafe being rafe?"
"stop right there. look i'm not blind. it all makes sense now, the way he's always looking at you. i just thought he was trying to figure out his opinion on you, but he likes you. rafe isn't the type to throw out compliments like that, he's always playing it cool, he doesn't care about anything. but the way he just spoke to you? that was different"
"you don't mind?" you asked nervously.
"i would if i hadn't got to know you like i do now. i'm so protective of him and his whack ass fans, but i love you y/n, you've become my best friend in such a short time, i want you happy, and i want my brother happy. do you like him?"
"fuck, maybe. what does this mean?"
"i don't know, but i know LA is about to get a whole lot more interesting." she grinned. "come on let's hit the road and chat with the girls. we need to come up with a plan."
and with that, you finished packing and headed out the door, making your way to the car for the long drive home, where you were sure a lot would be unpacked.
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a/n: feeding you all today, felt the slowburn needed to be RESOLVED. anyway just wanted to clarify you can tell who's ig story it is by the profile pic as i'm not sure if that was clear or not my bad
taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation
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bangchansgirlsblog · 1 year ago
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Ive been imagining this and ik its weird BUT ot8 skz being perv and so obsessed to fem 9th member.. Like they get super jealous and the fem readed being a people pleaser like she cant say no to her friends and cant stand seeing them sad so when the members started to became sexually touchy w her they used that against her and be like "dont u want to see us happy? We've been tired and we just want to relieve some stress.. I thought u can help us.. I guess not" and they pretend to be sad abt it and the reader just felt guilty for not helping her friends so she lets them touch her which led to smut KDNDJFKDJ its weird but idk i die for these kinds of fics
Hands on me?
Warning: Angst, sexual activity, manipulation?
Pairing: polyOT8 x reader.
Summary: Don’t you wanna see us happy baby? They said as they slowly peeled her clothes off.
AUTHORS NOTE: this has been in my requests for a while and I write this when I first started off SO it’s not good at all BUT I’m going to write another one using this same request cause I have another idea AND this was in my drafts for a while so I’m dropping it to clear it.
I hope whoever requested this, enjoys it 🥰
**
"Baby?!" She heard someone call for her from the living room. 
"I'm in here!" She replied. Her hair was up in a pony tail and she was currently wearing shorts and a croptop with no bra on making her look yummy.
She heard a bunch of voices start piling up in the living room meaning that the boys were back home.
A small smile creeped up on her face as she continued to wash up the dishes she had used to cook dinner. She made a big dinner because at the end of the day she was feeding 8 of her boyfriends who were also MEN. 
"Hey love," Han walked into the kitchen. His hair was in a hat and he had his normal hoodie and cargo pants on. "Are you feelings better?" He asked while taking a few steps towards her until he towering her. His breathing was heavy probably from the flight of stairs.
"Mmm, yeah. Just been a long day that's all." She sighed and looked up at him. He had a pout on his face making her coo at how adorable the boy was.
"I missed you," he said in between kisses. 
"Missed you too momo," he rested his head on her shoulder she continued to finish the dishes.Han was always clingy, not more than Felix but it was more than the other boys, that was for sure.
As she finished up she felt His hands slowly wondering around her body then slowly landing on her ass. oh, makes sense. He was horny.
She did love every interaction with her boys, she really did but today she wasn't in the mood at all. She was tired and she had a horrible headache from work. having sex was not on her to-do list but a nap was.
"Do you want me to take care of you?" He whispered in her ear causing shivers to run down her spine. She was sad because she was going to turn him down and she knew how stressed all the boys were, he just wanted have fun.
"Maybe not right now momo, I'm not in the mood," She told him while finishing the last of the dishes and drying her hands. He pouts and lets out a small whimper.
"Have you eaten yet?" She asked him changing the subject.
"Not yet no," he frowned.
"Okay then sit, let me call the other guys to come eat too," She encourage him, "and don't forget to put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket," She tiptoed and gave him a quick kiss before going to the living room to find only Changbin sat while scrolling through his phone.
He was wearing all black and he had his glasses on. His hair was fluffy and curly meaning today he was in the studio all day.
"Binnie?" She walked and sat by him, "what are you doing?"
"Hey baby," he kisses her temple and then her lips, "I was just lacing up my shoes, what about you? How was your day?"
"I'm tired that's all," she pouted, "and my period is coming soon so I'm breaking out!" she exclaimed and crossed her arms causing him to chuckle.
"I mean atleast you look nice," he dropped his shoe and pulled her close to his body, "you look beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, amazing-"
"Okay, okay I get the point," she roll my eyes playfully.
"Hey? Am I not allowed to praise my beautiful girlfriend?" He playfully frowns.
"You are I geuss," she giggled and he couldnt help but pull her onto his lap.
"Then let me praise you huh?" He kisses her cheek and slowly starts moving down her neck. A small moan leaves her mouth.
"B-Binnie, I'm not in the mood, please," she told him.
"Why not? You're always in the mood," he looks confused.
"Not today, just come have lunch yeah?" she give him a peck on the lips and got off him so he could stand up.
"Fine," he huffs. He makes his way to the dining area as she depart6ed and headed to Felix's room
"Felix?" she called while knocking on his door.
"It's open!"
"Hey sunshine, dinner is ready-"
"Hey! no kisses? No hugs?" He frowned and turned around from his desk.
"Oh-" she giggled when she realized and then walked over to him, "Hey lix," she repeated and  gave him a kiss as he automatically pulled her on his lap.
"How's my baby doing?" He asked as his hands wrapped around her waist and he cuddled her body.
"Mm just tired," she sighed.
"Oh my poor baby, should we watch a movie later?" He was craving her. he wanted to spend more time with her because he felt like he had spent so much time with the boys that he was neglecting her.
"Yeah that would be nice but first go get lunch," she forced herself out of his grip but he let out a soft whine due to the lack of touch and well...the bulge that was now very visible through his pants.
"Look what you've done to me," he whined again causing her to laugh at his distraught state.
"Oh oh, you better fix that before you go down,"
"Help me please!" He frowned.
"I'm not in the mood Felix, please."
"Come on pleaseee, it's been a long day. Don't you want to see me happy?"
His eyes were shiny and hungry, it was obvious.
"Fine after dinner," she lied to him so he could get up and he actually believed it.
"Okay okay, I'm running there now!"
He got up from his sit and rushed out the room.
She followed behind him and checked the dining room to see everyone now sitting down including Chan, I.N, Seungmin and leeknow.
She went around to give them quick kisses before returning to her room and changed into just a  huge shirt (that was probably for one of the boys) and underwear.
She turned off all her room lights and entered bed now being able to have a peaceful sleep. A nice, nice qui-
She felt the bed dip and hands wrap around her body. Her eyes open quickly and she saw familiar hands. Chan.
"Channie?"
"Hey babe, I wanted to cuddles," he pouted.
"Fine but no disturbing my sleep," she scolded him and turned so it was easier for him to wrap his arms around her waist.
Her eyes slowly closed once again and she finally thought she was to get some sleep until the door swung wide open and closed quickly, two more people walking in and making themselves comfortable in her bed. Han and I.N. At this point she was so used to it that she just let them stay as they both argued on who was sleeping where.
"Guys if you're going to be in here, you have to be quiet and sleep," She told all of them off. Even if she was getting a little frustrated she scooted up a little so they could all enter the bed.
Not even a few minutes later all the boys were now in her room on her bed piling onto one another under her fluffy blankets. She knew exactly what they wanted when she felt one of their hands massaging her leg.
She let out a sigh, "Such horny dogs!" she groaned.
"Common baby, it's been a long day. Don't you care about us?" Hyunjin teased her in a manipulative manner.
"Just a little fun. Come on please," Han rubbed her leg once more back and forth causing shivered to run down her spine.
"You look good too," Felix complimented her while tugging at her bra strap, "really good." They were basically already peeling her clothes off with their cold ass hands.
She let out a sigh and finally gave in, "F-fine I geuss so," her eyes wonder to Chan who gives her an assuring nod.
//please idk how to write a smut but just imagine the nastiest thing ever happens//
When they were done and the boys were satisfied as Y/n sat on the bed. Her heart was racing from all the action but she was in her own space. Spaced out.
The constant thoughts of the boys using her for their sexual desires made her enter a depressive episode. Yes she enjoyed the sex and the attention but so many emotions were running through her tiny body that she couldn't handle it anymore.
She felt used like a sex toy and the tears in her eyes slowly started to build as she started to breath rapidly. The air in the room getting suddenly thick. Seungmin was in the bathroom running her bath for her after care. The sound of the water falling was the only sort of noise she could hear.
She held her knees against her chest as she tried to calm down. Han's hand wrapped around her waist. As he kissed her temple. "you did so good for us, you know that right babygirl?" he praised but she didnt even notice him in the first place. Her eyes were hazy and completely black and when Han noticed, he gave chan a look. 
"Hey, are you with us?" Chan asked immediately as he pulled up his sweatpants. "Y/n?"
No response.
She was staring at the wall right in-front of her. She felt unloved. She felt tired. She was in pain.
The boys (some of them were still dressing up) all turned to look at her. Her body was still bare and the bruises on her arms were visible.
"Is she going into a trance?" I.N asked panicked. "Chan do something, please,"
"Hey Y/n? Babygirl? It me. Can you hear me?" He walked over to her and grabbed her tiny hands.
"C-channie?" She chocked as She looked up at him. The tears slowly starting to fall.
"Yes my love, it's me. Can you tell me where you are?"
"I'm alone, I'm all alone," she sobbed. "Why am I like this? Why am I so disgusting?" She cried.
"What do you mean Y/n?" He asked shocked.
"I-I want Binnie, I want Binnie now," she said reaching out for him. Changbin did not hesitate. He was right by her side pulling her onto his lap. The rest of the boys understanding what was going on and quickly taking action.
"I'm here princesses, tell me what's wrong," he had no shirt on and the skin to skin was slowly giving her comfort as his body heat was radiating warmth.
"I-do you love me?" She asked. The panic in her voice was clear. She was soon going to get a panic attack. it was building up.
"Ofcourse I love you babydoll, why would you think otherwise?" He questioned while kissing her forehead.
"i- i dont know, please dont be mad at me," She sobbed in his chest. The view was heartbreaking and the boys knew that if they didnt find a way to cheer her up soon it would end up into a full blown panic attack.
"I'm going to make some brownies for her," Felix said because he knew this was the only way he could comfort her on his part. He quickly leaves the room after hesitating for a bit not wanting to leave her.
"I- are you guys using me? For sex?" She cried harder. Her hands held Changbins chest as She struggled to breathe. Their faces were in absolute shock. was this what they made her think? was this all she thought she was to them? 
"Ofcourse not," leeknow knelt down infront of her. He slowly rubbed her thigh. "Jagi, you need to breathe. Can you do that for me?" He asked her. Her body was shaking still. she tried to gasp for air but failed. 
"Listen to me beuatiful, you need to breathe like me....see," he took a deep breathe to demonstrate to her but it was no use. 
"i- i cant breathe," she gasped and let go of changbin to grab her neck. it felt like it was closing up. Her vision was blurry now and the lack of oxygen was getting to her. 
"C-chan?" she gasped as she slowly she started to pass out. Her body giving up on her due to the many emotions.
"come on baby, stay with me," she heard in the distance.
"Guys! call 119,"
***
This is just a fic no one come for me 😔
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