#and again I have almost TWO THOUSAND HOURS on this game!!

[odessastone]

I’m so frustrated with OW (the game itself). I acknowledge that I am not very good, even after almost 2000 hours of playtime. But shouldn’t I be getting matched with people who Also are not good?? Every time I do comp it’s like Blizzard for some reason thinks I’m WAY better than I actually am, and I get stomped into the dirt until I finally, finally hit that agonizing 15 losses and they re-adjust my skill level. And even then, I win a few, they go “oh shit, this guy is a pro actually”, and I start getting clobbered again.

Multiple seasons now I have hit 15 losses in placements before 5 wins. I currently have a 20% win rate in this season’s placements. How is this possible. I’m not Bronze 5 (these days I usually get placed mid-Silver), so I KNOW there are players out there worse than me. So why do I keep getting put against people who stomp me into the dust?? Shouldn’t I get matched with people who put me at around a 50% win rate??

Having to play 30+ games just to place is insanely frustrating!! The last couple seasons I haven’t even bothered to complete my placements, because I literally cannot get 5 wins!!

[gingerswagfreckles]

It's crazy because this isn't the first time this has happened this year but no one ever talks about it no one ever cares. A week or two ago a woman was murdered by having her throat slit in front of her two kids by a guy who screamed "free Palestine" and all the comments on the article were theorizing that it was a false flag attack actually organized by The Jews. A few weeks before that a synagogue was bombed in France by a guy who literally wrapped himself in a Palestine flag as he did it and every single news organization cropped the images so you couldn't see the flag. Several Jewish women have been raped in France "for Palestine" and several other Jews in the country murdered. Some Jews were kidnapped in Australia by "activists." In the US an elderly Jewish man was murdered by protesters months and months ago and absolutely no mainstream news reported on it. A plane in Russia was stormed by a mob looking to find Jews and kill them because they mistakenly thought the plane was landing from Israel. A few days ago in NYC several Jewish men were stabbed in the span of a couple of hours in separate incidents by people screaming "free Palestine" and they're still hospitalized. A terrorist convicted of bombing a synagogue in 1980 and killing four Jews in France is now teaching a social justice class at a Canadian University. There was a crowd chanting "Heil Hitler" at the Israeli athletes at the Olympics while waving Palesfine flags. Students at Columbia University made a chain to block Jewish students from attending their classes. They cornered them in a library and chanted "globalize the intifada." Students at UCLA made their Jewish classmates wear badges to identify which had passed their Good Jew test and could be allowed to pass their mob to attend class. Hate crime numbers around the world have gone up by thousands of percentile points and the increase has been driven almost entirely by LEFTISTS and their crazy insistence that the full blown murder of Jews for being Jewish by terrorist organizations "isn't antisemitism" but is in fact a form of "resistance." Against the Jews who secretly control the world. This has been happening for months and months and months and nobody cares and you all just gaslight Jews and tell us we are being hysterical and this is all our fault anyway and now it's normal again to have full blown pogroms in every country in the world where mobs chase down people screaming "Jew! Jew!" to try to kill them and you are STILL. ALL. JUSTIFYING IT. You guys have become literal full blown Nazis and I am not exaggerating in the slightest. Nazism has been normalized again and it hasn't been normalized by the right, it has been normalized by the left through your desperate desire to roleplay a Huger Games type revolution against a tiny minority group who can't hurt you back.

[apartmentsmoke]

Evan tells Tommy that he's babysitting Jee, but he still really wants to spend time with Tommy, if Tommy doesn't mind - and Tommy accepts. Jee's part of Evan's family, and Howie's family, and how bad can hanging out with a three-year-old - almost four, he is told by her in the car - be anyway? What he's expecting is a night on the couch watching Frozen. (Kids still like that, right?) Maybe tea parties. What he does not expect is that Evan already has an outing planned to Chuck-E-Cheese. Surprise - Chuck-E-Cheese still exists. He would've sworn they went bankrupt back in 2020.

He's not sure what Jee is going to think of him, but she remembers him from the hospital as "Uncle Buck's dirty friend" and accepts his presence easily enough. She keeps her hand in Evan's as they walk into Chuck-E-Cheese. It's one of the cutest things Tommy's ever seen. There's a thousand kids around, laughing and crying and shouting. He only has to focus on one, he tells himself, and lets Jee lead him and Evan through the maze of games. She stops at a claw machine and demands that her Uncle Buck win her a rabbit toy. After ten minutes, fifteen dollars, and Tommy tagging in, they finally succeed. The next two hours are filled with more exploitative games, the greasiest fucking pizza Tommy's ever had, and Jee spending five minutes deliberating between two similarly-colored bouncy balls to exchange for her tickets. Throughout it all, Evan's patience never wavers, even when they lose Jee for five minutes in the crowd and have to search for her. She's hiding under the air hockey table.

Tommy's doing his best to keep up. He's led all over the place, recruited to help with games, and tries to make sense of Jee's non-sequiturs. While they're standing in line for the bouncy ball, Evan nudges him. There's a big smile on his face. "I know this isn't an ideal date. Thanks for being here." "Of course," Tommy says, and he nudges Evan back. "I like getting to know your family, Evan." It's not what he expected, but seeing first-hand how full of love Evan's family is, how much love he has for them - he wouldn't trade it. Not even for the bluest bouncy ball. Evan's smile grows even wider. They're almost out the door when Jee spots a photo booth and hones in. "I wanna photo," she says, tugging at Evan's hand, and Tommy dutifully follows along. He'll - wait out here, he guesses, while Evan and Jee take their photo. They wouldn't all fit, anyway. It's a little awkward, hanging around the photo booth, but it's fine. They disappear behind the curtain for a moment and Tommy can hear Jee's high, insistent voice and Evan chuckling and responding, though he can't make out the words. Jee and Evan poke their heads out a second later. "You too!" Jee says, and Evan echoes her with a grin. "Yeah, you too. Get in here." They quickly learn there is no way the photo booth is going to fit them all. Tommy fits maybe a third of his body in. Evan frowns, then lights up again. "Hey, Jee, why don't we get out for a second? Then Tommy can sit down and I can sit on his lap and you can sit on my lap. Okay?" "Okay," she says, so Tommy squeezes in, and a second later Evan plops all two hundred pounds of himself and thirty pounds of Jee onto his lap.

"Evan," he hisses, and Evan grins at him, unrepentant. "Smile for the camera, Tommy," he says, and Tommy finds that his smile comes easily, especially when Evan turns to kiss his cheek on the last photo. After they scrabble out of the photo booth, Evan looks down at the strip of photos and their wide, grinning faces. "Oh, yeah. That's going on the fridge for sure." "For sure," Jee repeats for emphasis, and looks up at Tommy expectantly. "For sure," he says, and he's met with twin smiles.

[this fic has matching art by @aringofsalt! it's adorable and you should definitely go take a look]

[tim-shii]

a/n: word vomit. i was salivating while scrolling thru the lego website. i need to be financially stable to purchase countless lego sets. but since i'm not 😔 here's bf sae buying you 🫵 a lego set cuz he's rich like that 😋 ending is rushed can u tell

“bad idea, i told you.”

“don’t lecture me right now. i’m—”

“you’re what? rethinking your life decisions?” sae leans by the door frame with his arms crossed. he looks like a predator waiting to pounce on its prey. he’s basically sizing you up (he’s not, your judgment is just blinded by annoyance right now).

an hour prior, you two were on good terms. hand in hand, a perk in your steps as you journey towards the lego store. sae agreed to buy you a set as a gift because he missed your anniversary due to an overseas game. what he didn’t expect was that you would pick the eiffel tower set. he tried to talk you out of it, of course.

“you are not getting that.”

“yes, i am.”

“no. you are not.”

“you’re right, i’m not. because you’re getting it for me.”

“you have the attention span of a goldfish. you’re abandoning the building process five steps in.” sae snakes his hands on your wrist, stealthily prying off your hold on the box. not stealthy enough, it seems as you pull the box closer to you, almost hugging it. “no, i won’t!”

yes, you will. sae thinks and he’s certain he’s right with how your voice pitch up when defending yourself. with your unwavering insistent, sae sighs in defeat. “fine. come on, i’ll pay up.” he nods to the direction of the counter, strong arms easily grabbing the big box out of your hold. you follow him, bright eyes and a squeal of excitement threatening to escape your mouth.

fast forward, you got in the car, sae drives you both home and that’s what brings us to now.

perhaps, he’s right. maybe it is a bad idea. are you gonna agree with him? your ego says no.

but what else can you do when you’re faced with the sudden wave of laziness in the middle of ten thousand lego pieces? of course, ask your boyfriend for help. yes, even if it pains you to ask him.

“can you..” you groaned, physically restraining yourself to say the words that will admit your defeat. sae, however, is amused with your current predicament. “yes? can i what? hm?” oh, how you wish to wipe that smug grin on his annoyingly handsome face.

“help me with this.” you point to the mess of plastic bags surrounding you.

“care to ask nicely, princess?” he raises a brow at you.

“can you please help me build this stupid eiffel towel that has ten thousand pieces?” sae’s smile widens at every word coming out of your lips right now.

“what’s in it for me?”

“my undying love and devotion.”

“don’t want that, darling. already have it, try again.”

“i’ll give you a kiss.”

“give me the instruction book, you hopeless being.”

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

[sserafics]

MAKE A WISH — henry h. x fem reader

fluff, use of y/n, reader has a bad experience w/ bdays, friends to lovers (?), set in season 4-5, second person pov

(requested!)

the dread you feel when you wake up on your birthday isn’t unfamiliar. every year it’s like this. quiet. lonely. though, it’s not all bad. at least you don’t have people nagging at you to open their presents first.. or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

your birthday has never been something you particularly look forward to; the day has always been filled with empty promises, disappointment, or just being alone in general.

this year, you’ve decided to just stay home, locked in your room all day with a blanket and movies you love to watch on repeat.

you’re curled up on your bed, surrounded by pillows and blankets while you watch a movie you’ve seen a thousand times before.

it was peaceful, almost like today was just a normal day, and not something you should be celebrating with friends and family; until a knock on your window startles you. you frown and pause the movie, getting out of bed and walking to your window. you open the blinds slowly, squinting against the light that filters into the previously dark room.

your brow furrows when you see your best friend, henry hart standing— or sitting on the tree next to your window.

“happy birthday, y/n.” he beams, smiling widely as if he’s not one slip away from falling two stories down. he’s holding a box in his hand, wrapped neatly with colored paper.

you blink. “henry, what are you doing here?” you ask, still frowning as you help him inside.

“i’m here you kidnap you,” he says sarcastically, slipping through your window effortlessly. he hands you the box he was holding, gesturing for you to open it.

you take it, looking at him skeptically before popping the lid open.

“i know you like to spend your birthday alone, but i thought you’d wanna give this a shot.” he gestures to the box, where two tickets to a carnival lay, next to a small pack of your favorite candy. a small smile makes its way to your lips.

you look back up at him, now hesitant as you remember your past birthdays. the disappointment and sadness the day always brought, but there’s a look in his eyes that intrigues you.

“i don’t know..” you murmur, your gaze trailing back to the tickets.

“come on,” he urges you gently, “just give me a few hours. if you hate it, i’ll bring you back, deal?”

you bite your lip, still a bit skeptical.

“i already bought the tickets.” he adds, smiling again at the look on your face after he says that.

you sigh, still debating in your mind if this is worth the trouble, after all, birthdays aren’t really your thing, yet the look on his face makes you second guess yourself.

you nod after a moment. “fine, but just a few hours.”

henry’s grin widens and he takes your hand, leading you out your room. as the two of you leave your house, you can’t help but wonder why he didn’t just knock on the front door. your parents aren’t home anyway, so it’s not like it’d matter.

you don’t have much time to dwell on the thought, the lights and sounds of the carnival ahead breaking you out of your thoughts.

when you arrive, your eyes widen in awe. the colorful lights, the laughter of children, the delicious smell of popcorn and cotton candy— all fills your senses as you two walk in. the atmosphere is a start contrast to the quiet day you had planned on having. you look over at henry and see he’s already looking at you, smiling at your reaction.

“well? what do you think?” he asks, letting go of your hand briefly to fetch the tickets, handing them to the guy in the booth.

“it’s… nice.” you mumble, still looking around at the lively atmosphere.

after the two of you are let in, you approach the game booths. despite your initial reluctance on coming, you start to feel excitement and enthusiasm as he hands the woman at the ring toss booth a few quarters.

you stifle a laugh as henry tries (but fails) to win you a specific panda plush that caught your eye the moment you stepped foot in the carnival.

the two of you have been standing here for about ten minutes, him being determined to win you the plush.

“here, let me try.” you tell him, taking one of the darts from his hands. you turn back towards the booth and throw the dart, hitting the exact balloon he was aiming for, a prideful smile forming on your lips as the man in the booth reaches for the plush and hands it to you.

you look over at henry, who looks shocked. his jaw dropped, almost looking offended at you hitting the balloon so effortlessly.

“i’m supposed to be winning you prizes for your birthday, not the other way around, y/n” he says, sounding exasperated yet joking.

you laugh and reach for his hand, pulling him toward another booth, the panda plush tucked under your arm. “cmon, you can win me that one.” you add, pointing to a stuffed frog at a beanbag toss booth.

when the sun begins to set, a warm glow casting over the carnival from it, henry leads you to the ferris wheel. you hold onto the stuffed animals and the other things he managed to win you tightly as the two of you enter the pod.

you take a seat on one side of the ferris wheel, and you furrow your brows at the box sitting on the other side.

henry grabs the box and places it on his lap, opening the lid to reveal a small cake, that writes ‘happy birthday y/n’ in cursive lettering on top.

“i made this for you.” he smiles, pulling out a small pack of candles and a lighter, lighting them as the ferris wheel begins to slowly move.

he holds the cake near your face, the light of the candles illuminating your face. he smiles wider as he says, “make a wish, y/n”

you close your eyes, a warm feeling in your chest slowly building up as you make your wish. you open your eyes and blow out the candles, smiling softly.

you look at him again, noticing his face closer than your used to. you don’t pull away, though.

he laughs awkwardly before pulling out a plastic fork from the box and cutting a small piece from the cake. “say ‘ah’” he smirks playfully, holding the piece up to your mouth.

you roll your eyes but part your lips, allowing him to feed you. he feeds you a few bites and even purposely smears a bit of frosting onto your nose, making your face scrunch up. he laughs at that and sets the cake down on the seat. you turn to look out the window, taking in the view of swellview below you, the sunset casting a warm glow over the buildings.

“hey, y/n.” his voice rings out, making you turn back to look at him, confused.

“yeah?”

“you’ve got some frosting,” he gestures vaguely to your face, making you frown and try to wipe it away.

“no, no. not there.” he adds, smiling wider and leaning closer. you don’t notice at first. he gently grabs your wrist to stop you from rubbing at your face.

“where is it?-“ you began, thinking he’d get it for you, but your words cut off when he suddenly leaned in and kissed you softly, cupping your cheek.

the kiss was short, almost like it never happened, but the way his hand cups your face assures you that it’s real. your best friend is kissing you.

you pull back after a moment, your cheeks feeling hot as you open your eyes, looking up at him.

“got it.” he comments smugly.

you blink. your wish came true.

later that night, as henry helps you climb back into your window, you can’t help but ask him something that’s been on your mind since earlier.

as you plop into your bedroom, you turn back to the window, where he’s sitting on the tree again.

“hey henry?”

“hm?” he hums, looking back at you, slightly confused.

“schwoz made the cake, didn’t he?”

…

“…yeah.”

(a/n) omf this took me so long to post 😞 thank u to whoever requested this!! it was so cute and fun to write 🫶🏻 also to everyone else who sent me a request i’ll try my best to get them done soon! thank u for ur patience and i hope you guys enjoyed reading!!! :)

[consextualjane]

Ransom

Brandon jumped when his phone buzzed. His nerves were nearly fried from hours of worry, wondering where Alicia could be. Tuesdays were her yoga class days. She was usually home by seven, but it was going on midnight now.

He grabbed his phone.  What he saw on the screen didn't make sense. A picture of Alicia, ball-gagged and on her knees in front of a mirror, was sent from an unknown number.  The woman who had taken the picture was standing next to Alicia with her ass pressed against his girlfriend's face.

The message under the image was even more surreal: I picked up your dumb girlfriend at a yoga class. I told her I  ran an advanced class from my home, and this idiot believed me.  She's full of drugs and had a vibrator held to her clit for the last two hours. I doubt she even knows her name right now. If you want her back, wire five thousand dollars to the link in the next message. Or something worse will happen to her.

Brandon's phone buzzed again and the link appeared.  His brain didn't register what was happening. Was this some kind of prank? Alicia had mentioned wanting to spice up their sex life. Was this her way? Or was it real?

What the fuck is this, he typed in response, not knowing what else to do. He waited for what seemed like several minutes before he received a response.

You have one minute.

Brandon's worry turned to anger. He wasn't going to indulge whatever game this was.

He typed another message: Go fuck yourself.

Suit yourself, came the response.

He tossed the phone on couch. She'd be home soon, once she realized he wasn't into whatever game this was. And then they would be having frank discussion about what he considered cheating. He flopped himself down on the couch and turned on the TV.

A few minutes of channel surfing went by before he looked back at his phone.  Who was the other girl in that photo? Why was Alicia dressed like such a slut for her? Brandon picked up his phone and opened the photo again.

There was his girlfriend, on her knees and wearing a leather belt and collar lingerie. Since when did she act like that? The other woman's big ass was dominating Alicia's face. She almost looked like she was enjoying it. His cock stiffened.

He started to rub it through his pants, but then he stopped himself, throwing his phone down. He wasn't into this kinky stuff. And he didn't sign up to date a whore.

His eyes were drifting back to the TV when he felt his phone vibrate through the couch cushion. Was that her again? Reaching for the phone, he felt his heart rate quicken. When he looked at the screen he found text message with only a video.

A surge of images flashed through his mind. Was this woman actually doing things to his girlfriend? There was no way he could watch that video. He only hesitated for a moment before his thumb betrayed him and pressed play.

The video opened to a view of the woman's bedroom. The lights were off except for a neon glow coming from behind the camera, illuminating her empty bed. An eighties-style synth pop song started playing in the background as a women walked into the frame.

Only her bottom half was visible in the video, but Brandon could tell from her thong that it was the woman from the photo. She walked in front of the camera, showing off her wide hips. Brandon felt himself getting harder despite his disgust. He held the phone closer, and noticed a bulge in the front of the woman's thong.

She  stood in front of the bed, swaying her hips for several seconds, before reaching into the front of her thong and pulling out one of the biggest cocks Brandon had ever seen, fully hard and girthy. It was nearly twice the size of his own.

She stroked the behemoth a few times. His mouth fell open as a thick bead of precum oozed out of the tip and dripped out of the frame. His own cock was about to burst through his pants. Without realizing what he was doing, he unzipped and pulled it out.

The woman on the video then walked out of view. The synthesizer-heavy song continued to hum ominously in the background. A second later Brandon saw his girlfriend climb on to the bed on all fours. A mix of horror and lust coursed through his cock as he watched the woman get on to the bed behind her.  She pushed Alicia down into the mattress and pulled her hips up before giving her ass a hard slap. He heard his girlfriend moan over the music.

After another ass-slap, Alicia turned and looked directly at the camera. Brandon felt her looking at him. Her eyes were wide, full of fear, and lust, and something that almost seemed like an apology for what he was about to see.

Right on cue, the woman sank her massive, bare girl-cock  into his girlfriend from behind. Alicia fell to the mattress, letting out an orgasmic cry just as the video cut out.

Brandon stared at the screen, his phone in one hand, his throbbing cock in the other. The shock of the video made his mind go blank. Before he could think of what to do next his phone buzzed with another message.

Send the money to see the rest.

[boyfhee]

이희승 、SHARED VICE

heeseung has a bad habit, but with your help, he can fix it. unforeseeably, you turn out to be a bad influence instead.

ꔫ pairings : play boy! heeseung x fem reader ꔫ warnings : kissing, implications of smoking ꔫ notes : this was supposed to be a roommate series

“i thought i told you to clean up,” your voice takes in the way he fixes his t-shirt while looking in the mirror, pausing for a brief second as his eyes settle on you before travelling back to his reflection in front of him.

“giving me orders in my own room,” and he sounds a little too haughty, especially with the smirk that dances on his lips. his eyes travel down to you— up and down, as he looks at you with a teasing glint, kicking a few empty packets of snacks lying around his gaming setup aside.

“that’s a nasty habit,” you’re commenting this for the thousandth time ever since he moved in, the scoff that falls off his lips tells you how much he expected you to say the same words over again. 

“everyone has one,” he shrugs, sighing as he pushes the keyboard further on the desk, leaning against it before his lips curl up into a cheshire grin as he leans down towards you. “you have too, i know about it; your very, very nasty habit,”

and you feel your breath get stuck in your throat, knowing a little too well where this conversation was heading. he stares at you for a while, finally bored as he sighs, getting up from the desk and taking a step towards you— careful not to break eye contact. 

“i’m off, hope you clean this—” but you’re quick to react, taking a step back just as soon as he leans closer, looking away and pointing your index finger at the empty packets and unwashed clothes lying around. “—shit,”

“lend me a hand?” he leans back with a soft sight, slightly tilting his head to the side, the grin on his face never leaving. “i could really use some help here,”

“and why would i do that?”

“maybe, i can help you with your nasty habit in return,” he suggests with a certain innuendo, towering over you with a heavy gaze, one that figuratively makes it difficult for you to even move. “roommates need to look out for each other, right?”

and heeseung is a wrong deal in himself.

you’ve seen the way girls around the campus fawn over him and also the way they walk out of his room with tears. you’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve come back to the apartment, seeing him with a new girl. you know better than gravitating straight towards him, although your heart keeps swerving. you hate his habits, he smells of cigarettes and the strawberry candies that keep his mouth busy during hours of valorant sessions. it’s a deadly combination, vinously so.

“i don’t know—” 

“you can stare at me all you want while helping me clean the room,” another step towards you, another step back taken by you— and you’re against the edge of the bed, whipping your head around frantically as you almost stumble, although not sure if it’s because of his actions or the close proximity in between. “don’t you like to do that, pretty?”

or if it’s both.

“we’ve only been roommates for a while but i know exactly what you’re thinking right now,” he leans down further, lips almost brushing against yours. “do you think i haven’t noticed your eyes being all over me?”

your mouth is dry, mind rushing at thousand miles per minute to think of any words to defend yourself. you thought, you’ve been discreet with it— the stolen glances at him from across the room, the subtle smile on your lips whenever you two talk, despite most of it being just annoying banter. it wasn’t news to your friends when you told them about your little crush on your roommate, however you made sure to keep it a secret from him. he tilts his head to the other side, gazes switching between your eyes as your lips, the feeling incomparable to how you’re drawing him in.

“hee—” you’re cut off by the sudden movement of his arm around your waist, perhaps to keep you from falling down on the bed, but maybe it’s yet another excuse, this time made to hold you close, just enough to make you feel all the butterflies.

“maybe,” the words caress against your lips, making your head dizzy. “it’s a shared vice,” and before you could retract— his lips are yours, hands pulling you close by your waist to hold you in place, feverishly kissing you as you feel his tongue brush against your lips. 

it's another nasty habit, one he can’t get rid of— the one he won’t get rid of, especially at the way your lips feel against his, it aligns with how he thought you’d taste. your hands fiddle with the hem of his shirt in nervousness and yet, you leave him breathless and intoxicated with the lack of air. it’s like a drug, gets worse the way your hands hesitatingly rest on his chest as he tilts your head, pulling you even deeper into the kiss. it’s an addiction, and good for heeseung, you’re just as hooked as him.

[strawbeerossi]

This Is Me Trying

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Ex-wife!Reader

Description: Spencer shows up at his ex wife’s door late in the night, riddled with guilt from years of their separation and needing to confide to her why he left her the first place.

Content Warning: Prison arc discussed but no spoilers, mention of PTSD, mentions of drug addiction/relapse, mention of violence, heart wrenching angst, crying, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, missionary, lovemaking, aftercare, happy ending.

Word count: 4.5K

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The last thing that she expected was to hear a firm knock against her apartment door. It was ten in the evening, who would need anything from her this late? Maybe it was Mrs. Martin, the sweet little old lady next door, wanting to drop off some freshly baked treat that she wanted her to try before she took it to one of her game nights. Which, Y/N had to admit, she loved when she’d come by with her signature chocolate chip brownies, she always made a heaping amount to share with her younger neighbor just because she expressed liking them one time.

She was approaching the front door. Using the peephole of the door, her heart sunk. Instead of seeing an older woman with a plate of treats in her hand, she was met with Spencer Reid.

It had been years since they talked last, the last time being a tearful Y/N begging her husband not to walk out the door, to stay and work out their marriage that she was afraid was starting to crumble into a thousand pieces. She could remember the bitterness, the hatred in his voice.

“Wait! Spencer, baby, please.” Y/N’s voice was hoarse from sobbing, her throat raw from having to yell over his loud voice just to get him to listen. “I know it’s hard but I need you to stay, we can work this out together. You know that. We always do.” Spencer was turning his head to face his wife, already packing his clothes away. “I don’t want to fucking stay. I don’t want your pity. Ever since I got home, you’re treating me like I’m some sort of child! I’m not!” His tone was laced with venom, enough to make the tears spring up in Y/N’s eyes again.

She knew prison would chip away at the Spencer she’d fallen in love with five years ago but she never expected things to go down like this. She’d done everything she could’ve thought of. She always made him some of his favorite dishes, she’d read to him, she’d hold him when he sobbed in her arms and relived the most traumatic experience he’d went through thus far. It was never enough.

He was different now. Irritable, temperamental, and he had a hard time composing his anger, not to mention that his once beautiful honey colored irises were dull, almost lifeless. He lost himself in prison, he wasn’t ever going to be the same. Instead of always greeting her with a hug and a smile after his days at the BAU or after cases, she was greeted to him starting to distance himself from her. It went from him coming home an hour late, to two hours, then three. She stopped making dinner, she stopped staying up to wait for him, she even stopped trying to reach out to him.

There was guilt, her brain rattled with so many what-ifs. If she left him alone more, would he have stayed with her? Would he have given her the same amount of love and dedication he’d once given her before? What could she have done to make him slowly begin to push her away, to serve her with fucking divorce papers?

Her tears stained the documents, her signature blurred out from how much she sobbed over the idea of losing the one real thing she’d ever known. No matter how much she wanted to hate him for his decision, she just couldn’t. Spencer had her heart, he took it with him out of the door when he left her, tucked away in his suitcase covered by the numerous suits and other necessities.

She was pulled out of her pain filled memories the moment she heard yet another knock. Was this a cruel joke? She was taking in a breath, collecting what little confidence she could manage to build up before she was unlocking the front door, her hand shaking from fear. As she was opening the door just enough to peak her head out, her lips were pursed in a fine line.

“Spencer.” Y/N spoke, her gaze firm on the man who had given up on her. “Hi, Y/N.” His voice was soft, a stark contrast to the tone of their last conversation. “Can I come in..?” He asked, though his hand was slowly resting against the front door as he pushed it open, Y/N taking a few steps back to grant him access. She should’ve slammed the door shut, she should’ve locked it and sent him on his way. Yet here she was, slowly closing the door as she invited him to make himself at home.

“What are you doing here?” It took a lot of courage for her to open her mouth, her arms slowly crossing over her chest. She wasn’t going to cry anymore, mainly because she was so tired of crying over him. She’d done it enough within the past few years, if anything, she should’ve been out of tears.

“I’m here to talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“Y/N. I haven’t been honest with you. Guilt has been eating away at me and I can’t help but feel shitty.”

You should.

She’d never say it out loud but judging by the face she made, Spencer already knew what went through her mind.

“I just want to apologize. You are owed that much. Whenever I got out of prison.. I was a different person entirely. I stopped putting much effort into any of my personal relationships..” He began, which before his ex wife could cut him off, he was looking up from his feet with glassy eyes. “It’s because I was getting comfort from.. Other influences. Dilaudid.”

Spencer’s last addictions never defined him throughout their entire relationship, in fact, she was proud of him. He’d been doing so good, the temptation coming up every now and then but she’d be there to push him, to give him so much love and support to try and curb the relapse that could occur.

“Drugs change the writing of neurotransmitters in your brain, which can lead to aggression or mood swings. That’s why I was always hostile towards you and why I didn’t want to be around you.” Spencer explained, eyes on the ground in shame while his hands were coming up to rest over his face. “I knew I had a problem, I did. There was one day when you were trying to get me to eat lunch and.. I wanted to hurt you.” His voice broke at the admission, unable to meet her gaze. “That made me realize that I had a problem. A problem that I couldn’t control. If I couldn’t control my emotions, I would get to the point where I couldn’t control my actions..”

Just the thought of that scared the hell out of him.

“I left because I didn’t want to hurt you. It would kill me if I ever did anything to you. I mean, I was already spiralling because of the vivid nightmares from prison. PTSD and drug use are a horrible combination, dangerous. I couldn’t risk hurting you.”

The explanation had hot Y/N like a ton of bricks. How could she not notice he had a relapse, she was supposed to be by his side and she couldn’t even fucking tell that he was struggling with impulse control as well as his emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me? Spencer, I could’ve helped you.” She whispered, stepping closer to her ex husband while slowly taking her hands in his.

“Because you didn’t deserve a damaged husband who would weigh you down. I can’t expect you to babysit me all day and night, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You have a career, you have friends, you have so much going for you. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if you threw your life away to essentially take care of me.” His words were barely above a whisper, as if the two had a risk of anyone listening in on their conversation.

“You are not damaged.” Y/N scolded softly while she was squeezing his hands slowly. “Spencer, I love you so much, I’ll always be here for you. Wife or not.” She said softly while her hand was now coming to rest gently against his cheek, as if he were fragile and one wrong move would shatter him like a stained glass window.

Spencer was finally meeting the irises that he couldn’t ever get out of his mind, the way there was a shine in them. Eyes were the window to the soul and hers reflected a beautiful, colorful soul and a strong fighting spirit she always carried with her. Even when she was broken down, that shine was there.

Her love was radiating onto him at the smallest touch, the man’s eyes closing briefly as if to compose himself. “I love you so much, Y/N. I will never be able to forgive myself for the way I pushed you away, the way I ended our marriage. I should’ve confided in you sooner. I just.. I was worried about you.” His words were genuine, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He whispered soon after.

If his pupils could be the shape of hearts, they would be. One thing about Y/N was that he adored her. He cherished her, took care of her. Even in the end when things went south, part of him still had that love that was locked away behind a crippling addiction that broke him down in the worst way possible. “When I wanted to just go back to using, I thought of you. How proud you’d be of me if I held off, how you’d tell me I did an amazing job getting back on track. You are my inspiration.” He whispered, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks, holding her face in his hands as his thumbs traced over her soft skin.

There was a soft smile gracing Y/N’s features. “I am so proud of you. It takes a lot to admit when you have a problem, it takes even more to better yourself. Even if I’m not fond of the way you went about it, I understand.” She was honest. She didn’t like how he had to divorce her and disappear from her life. Nobody in their right mind would be okay with that.

For the first time since he’d came inside, there was a content silence filling the living room. It was comfortable. For the first time, home felt like home. However as the both of them stayed within each other’s embrace, it wasn’t long before Spencer was leaning down to kiss her.

Their lips met in a bittersweet collision, as years of longing and unresolved emotions surged through their bodies. The kiss began tenderly, a delicate exploration of familiar territory, before gradually intensifying with the fiery passion that had once defined their relationship. In that moment, they momentarily forgot the pain that had driven them apart, reveling in the sheer magnetism that still bound them together. There was no more pain, no more wondering what had gone wrong.

Their tongues danced in a rhythm only they could understand, tasting the remnants of past love and the promise of a future reignited. As they reluctantly pulled away, their gaze locked, and they both knew that their love still burned strong, an everlasting flame that kept them bound together. After all they’d been through, the love and care was permanent.

While drawing in a breath, Y/N kept her gaze on Spencer before slowly running her hands up his chest. It wasn’t a suit tailored for him like she’d been so used to before, instead a casual cotton shirt. In a way, it was comforting. He thought about her at times where he wasn’t chasing evil men and women on cases, when instead he was home at.. Well, wherever he lived now.

“Do you want to stay tonight?” She asked after a moment, her words coming out slow and her tone delicate, as if she had to worry about scaring him off if she was anything but. “I always sleep so much better with you..” She added on soon after while playing with a loose thread on the shirt, almost as if she had to distract herself from the way her heart was nearly beating out of her chest.

It gave her flashbacks to when she and Spencer had first started dating, the both of them being soft with each other. The way that they’d both be nervous to ask the other to stay the night or when they’d be laying together and spoil each other in the wonders of intimate touch, their lips moving in sync.

That seemed so long ago now.

“Yes,” Spencer responded, not needing to spare a second thought. “I’d love to.” His own heart was racing, the feeling of being home slowly coming back to him. The comfort of Y/N being home, willing to hold him when he needed her. Tonight, he knew he needed her. In more ways than one.

Without a passing thought, the woman was being lifted into his arms while Spencer was reattaching their lips. There was love and need, yearning for the soft touch that they once shared. With the feeling of fingers tangling in his longer hair, he was almost running back to the bedroom that he’d remembered so well.

Without breaking the contact of their lips, Spencer was leaning down while carefully placing Y/N on her back, as if she was breakable. She needed to be handled with care, with appreciation. Not anyone would accept their ex husband despite his faults or listen to him when he’s explaining why he left. Most women would probably slam the door in his face. Not Y/N. Not the woman with a heart of gold. He didn’t deserve her love but she was willing to continue serving it to him.

Once she was on her back, Spencer was slowly pulling away. “I love you.” He whispered, the words just falling out of his mouth, reverting back to the ways that once were. The nights where they’d lay in the darkness, embracing one another during lazy post-coital conversations before falling asleep in those same positions.

“I love you so much.” He repeated as he felt like she needed to know his feelings never changed. His lips began to trail down her neck, his hands running down the silk nightgown. “I love you.” Y/N finally whispered in return, her head relaxing in her pillow while her eyes were fluttered shut, melting at each placed kiss.

Spencer let his teeth graze the now burning skin of her neck, eliciting a beautiful moan to fall from the woman’s lips.

This was heaven.

His lips were moving from her neck soon after that, his head lifting while the two were interlocking in a shared loving gaze. “You can keep going, you know.” She whispered, a little giggle leaving her lips at the way his eyes glistened in the soft lighting of the bedside lamp at her urging him to continue.

Spencer’s fingers were coming up to the flimsy straps of the nightgown, slowly pulling them from her arms while leaning down to trail kisses along her right shoulder. His hands were working to slowly tug the sleep garment off, almost as if he had to carefully unwrap a present to preserve the wrapping paper. He didn’t want to rush this. He wanted her to see how much he truly did love and miss her.

He’d take care of her tonight.

Once she lifted her hips to assist in discarding the nightgown, he was drinking in the sight of the near bare woman in front of him.

Spencer had eidetic memory, however, when it came to Y/N’s body, you’d think it was his first time seeing it. The way his cheeks would flush, the way he’d revert back to being the shy man who couldn’t help but stare as if she were a beautiful oil painting hanging in one of the highest esteemed art galleries in Paris, France.

He was now sitting between her open legs, eyes scanning over her body as his large hands were slowly running up her inner thighs. “I’ve missed you, so much.” He spoke, gaze now moving to the beautiful smile that was spreading across her face. “I’m glad you’re here.” She spoke softly, the two basking in the moment. There was no rush, no. Instead, they were enjoying the intimacy of soft touches, admiring bodies, sharing longing glances.

“May I?” He asked, fingers now getting dangerously close to the place where she needed him most.

“Of course.” Her head nodded, a blush on her face.

The panties she had on had a sizeable wet patch in the center of them, her body reacting so positively to his kisses, his touch, everything. His fingers were slowly running over her clothed cunt, electricity shooting through her body at the mere touch.

“My beautiful girl.” His voice was husky now, fingers looping in the waistband of her panties before he was tugging them down her thighs, a groan ripping from his throat once he could see her glistening pussy, sticky with arousal. “God, I love you.” He repeated for what felt like the millionth time in the night.

Spencer was getting up momentarily, pulling his shirt over his head before discarding his pants as well, leaving him in his boxers. As he’d gotten onto the bed, he was now laying between her thighs, hips pressed into the bed for when he ultimately needed relief of his own.

With one hand keeping her plush thighs apart, his tongue was now licking a stripe up her pussy, collecting just a taste of her arousal. Hearing her shaky breath from above him was enough to encourage his movements. After a few more long and teasing licks, his fingers were coming up to spread her puffy labia apart, his lips blowing cool air while the woman was mewling from pleasure, goosebumps spreading across her skin.

He ate like a man starved, his tongue lapping up all she had to offer to him, like eating one of the ripest fruits on the vine that was bursting with more flavor and sweetness after being freshly pulled from the tree branch. His chin was coated in her glistening juices, his nose brushing against her clit while his tongue was focused on swiping over her velvety walls.

With the sounds of pornographic moans filling the room along with the way her fingernails were digging in his scalp, it became to a point where Spencer was desperate for relief, his hips rocking against the mattress while he was focused on bringing the woman to her peak. As soon as he could feel her thighs begin to shake and her words were more incoherent, he knew what was to come next.

It wasn’t long though until he was pulling away, chuckling at the way she was desperately clenching around nothing as soon as he pulled away. “Hold on, pretty girl.” He purred, getting his fingers lubed up with his own spit before he was plunging them into the woman, a low moan leaving his lips as she was greedily clenching around his digits and pulling them in more.

“There we go.” He praised, the two fingers being thrusted inside of her needy core.

“I’m gonna— oh fuck, Spencer.” Y/N breathed out as her eyes were squeezing shut, her words encouraging him to fuck her faster with his fingers. She could feel the coil tightening in her stomach, her moans and whimpers of his name falling steadily from her lips.

All it took was him curling his fingers and pushing against her spongy sweet spot before she was cumming around his fingers, her hips rocking steadily against Spencer’s hand as she was doing her best to catch her breath, chest rising and falling rapidly.

As she’s ridden out the high, Spencer’s hair was being tugged in a gesture that was telling him move your ass, Reid.

So he was nearly stumbling to crawl up to hover over her again, the two attaching their lips in a much needed, more messy kiss than before. “Please,” She mumbled against his lips, making Spencer pull away. “Please what?” He asked, needing to hear her say it.

“I need you.”

Those words had his already hard cock aching in his boxers, making him stumble a bit just to get them down his legs before they were being tossed with the rest of the clothes in the bedroom.

“I don’t have a condom.” Spencer spoke, letting out a hiss of pleasure from the feeling of her hand wrapping around his cock to give it a few tugs. “We don’t need one. I don’t care right now.” Her voice came out in a desperate tone, making the man nod as he was letting her line up his tip with her leaking mound.

He was pushing into her slowly, sinking all the way to the hilt while the two let out a collective moan, Spencer’s head falling against Y/N’s shoulder as he let his eyes flutter shut, kisses being sponged to her shoulders as he gave her a minute. The way her hands were gripping onto him was a big indicator that just like himself, she’d probably not really gotten much action in a while.

“I’m ready.” She whispered, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she was practically hugging him close. “I’ll go slow.” He spoke in return, now lifting his head to smear their lips against one another’s.

Spencer loved slow and intimate sex, the way they were pressed flush against one another, drinking each others moans while the world slowly stood still. His hips were thrusting at a steady pace, the feeling of her legs wrapping around his waist just to try and bury him impossibly deeper inside of her.

It was the ultimate form of love. Being able to savor one another, enjoy the closeness. There were times in the past where the two would talk and even giggle with one another while his cock was buried inside of her. It was comforting in its own odd way.

Tonight though, there wasn’t much talking. Instead there was soft, loving kisses, the mixture of moans and groans falling between the both of them, as well as the sound of the bed squeaking along with each thrust that the man made.

There was nothing but love in that bedroom, the two whispering sweet nothings to one another and making promises that would fully be fulfilled going forward. This was going to be the start of something beautiful, that was something the two were confident of.

“I’m close,” Spencer’s words were being muffled into Y/N’s mouth, the woman slowly pulling out of their shared kiss while she was bringing her hands up to cup his cheeks. “Me too, don’t stop.” Her words were soft, a moan leaving her lips as she was letting her eyes flutter shut, head falling back against the mattress as she could feel her stomach tightening again.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Fuck.” His words slurring together as he brought one hand between their bodies, his thumb swiping over her clit in order to have her cum first. He prided himself on pleasuring her first and foremost, himself being mostly an afterthought.

As the warmth of her orgasm was washing over her, Y/N was hugging him as close as she could get him while a soft cry of the male’s name slipped from her lips. Chasing her orgasm, it wasn’t long until Spencer was letting go, a few more thrusts doing the trick as his warm cum was filling her to the brim. The feeling had the woman shuddering in pleasure.

With a thin layer of sweat coating their skin and their bodies still intertwined, Spencer was turning his attention down to the woman who he felt an intense and burning love for. “I promise you that I am not going anywhere this time. I’m tired of fighting M on my own.” His words were soft, his breathing still uneven. “I love you and I never want to be away from you like that again..”

“I love you so much more. You know that I’m always here for you, right? No matter what you’re struggling with. We are supposed to always be by each other’s sides. I made that promise to you and I never intend on breaking it.” Y/N assured.

“How about we to get cleaned up?” The make suggested, forcing himself to move away from the warmth of her embrace briefly. Instead of letting her get up though, Spencer’s hand was wrapping around her ankle before he was playfully pulling her to the end of the bed, making the woman laugh as she was being lifted in his arms.

“You could’ve broke my leg!” She gasped, a teasing tone chasing the words as she was letting her arms wrap around his shoulders, lips pressing kisses across his face.

A she was carefully sitting her on the edge of the tub, Spencer was turning on the faucet. After he’d gotten the water warm enough for the both of them, he’d retrieved the plug for the drain. Approaching the bathroom cabinet, he was kneeling down and rummaging until he was grinning triumphantly as he was retrieving a bottle of bubble bath soap, holding it up. “I knew you’d never get rid of this. As dumb as it sounds, I was so pissed because I didn’t take this with me.”

After putting a generous amount of the soap in the tub and watching it foam up, he was waiting until the tub was filled to their liking until he was turning off the water. He was the first to step in, getting comfortable before holding his hand out to help Y/N get in, a smile on his face. Even if it was a little awkward considering he was a tall guy in a small tub, they managed to get comfortable together with her on his lap.

One of her hands was collecting a bit of bubbles from the water before she was moving to place them over his face, a little laugh leaving her lips as she’d given him a bit of a bubble beard. “How old are we?” Spencer asked teasingly as he was doing the same thing with her, the two unable to help the soft laugh filling the bathroom.

“So, I have a legitimate question,” Spencer began while leaning back against the tub, a smile on his face. “Does this mean we have to get married again?”

The question made Y/N pull a face as she was pondering over the question. He had a point. How did this work?

“I say yes. Only because I think you owe me a much bigger wedding this time.” She joked, making the male laugh.

“My queen gets whatever she wants.”

[ficnation]

Chapter 4: Bon Appétit

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, 18+, SMUT A/n: I'm really putting off the inevitable here sksksksk. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3 Btw this is my first time writing explicit smut (unedited)

This is also another late piece to @the-slumberparty Bingo Card event (prompt: proposal) - > Events Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

When Will comes home that night after promising you he’ll only be gone for a few hours, he’s doing anything in his power not to look you in the eyes. He kept his word, coming back exactly three hours and twenty-six minutes later. You stare at him, intrigued. You don’t understand why he’s acting this way, but your mind screams at you that it can’t be anything good—it’s right, like always.

“I resumed my therapy with Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” he informs you after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. He still doesn’t look at you, as he takes off his jacket and boots.

“You did what?” You blink at him in confusion—utterly dumbfounded. The meaning of his words doesn’t even register in your brain. 

“I’m going to keep on seeing Hannibal,” Will repeats in the same monotonous voice.

It hits you like a train, and your stomach churns at the thought of them sitting across from each other, talking about emotions and Will’s life. Your expression turns to one of disapproval as the man expected.

“After everything he’s done, after everything he put you through, why would you do that?”

Will doesn’t respond right away, and you can tell he’s struggling with his words. “There are things I need to learn about myself,” he says finally. “About what it’s like to be me.”

You stare at him, burning invisible holes in his head, trying to decipher what is truly happening here. The guilt that emanates from his person, the fact that he still can’t meet your gaze—it’s more than suspicious. The realization hits you even harder than the fact he wants to be anywhere near Hannibal Lecter.

“Why are you lying to me?” you ask, voice on the verge of breaking. You hate yourself for ever thinking that he trusts you completely after all those years apart. The tears gathering in your eyes are more angry than sorrowful.

For a moment, Will goes silent. The silence is thick, full of tension as the two of you remain in your positions—you watching him, and him with his back turned to you.

Then, he closes his eyes tightly, as if fighting against a headache. He finally speaks, but only after turning slowly to face you. You immediately notice the pained expression on his face, the guilt that drips from his very skin.

“I have to keep seeing him.”

You go to protest again, but the sound of your voice cracks, and no words emerge. Will doesn’t wish to ever hear this noise from you again. It feels criminal—being the one who caused it. His heart breaks in a way it never did before—it stings like someone delivered it one thousand cuts.

You both remain silent for what feels like an eternity. Will doesn’t look away from you, and your eyes are locked on him, on that misery and pain staring right at you. No one moves, no one blinks, no one probably even breathes. Everything is still, except for your heart which aches even worse than it did before. The silence gets so thick you can almost feel it—touch it. For the life of you, you don’t want to be the one to break it.

You want to speak, beg, convince him to stop these mind games, to give you an explanation you could understand. But you choose to keep your mouth shut, slumping further into the cushions of the armchair. 

Will’s eyes don’t leave you. They remain fixed on you as if willing you to speak, to tell him something that would make all of this suddenly go away. Anything.

He wants you to read his mind, and understand his pleas, but you can’t— and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You don’t do anything, don’t even move a muscle and after a few moments of waiting, Will finally breaks the silence.

“I don’t want him to do this to anyone else,” he says. His words are soft and quiet, but they carry a weight that you feel in your chest.

“Yet you didn’t start with that. You chose to lie.” 

Will sighs. He looks exhausted as if you’ve been here asking him questions for hours, even though it’s been twenty minutes at most.

“I didn’t want you to stop me. There, I said it,” he says. “It was hard. Harder than anything I’ve ever done. Can you just cut me some slack over here?”

You don’t answer right away. You don’t know what to think or what to say about this whole situation. It seems absurd, and you have to remind yourself that you might’ve paused your story with Will Graham, but for him time has passed, things have changed.

You’re not proud of the words that leave you next. God, you wish you could just catch them in the air before they have a chance to reach his ears and put them back in your mouth.

“Change your fucking tone, Will.”

You’re shocked with your own words, but Will doesn’t seem annoyed or offended, not like most people would. He’s still staring at you, but you notice the slightest hint of amusement in his expression as if this new side of you intrigued him rather than annoyed him.

“You don’t like me speaking to you like that, my dear?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He makes no attempts to sound serious—just enough to make you laugh, but his words carry weight. He’s genuinely curious.

Will Graham just called you “my dear” and your whole face warms up at this term of endearment as you observe him fall to one knee in front of your person.

“What are you doing?” you choke out, confused, butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest.

Will takes his time to reply, his eyes scanning you and your reactions. He seems to enjoy the sight of you flustered, barely keeping up with what’s happening right in front of your face. His heart skips a beat more than twice in the span of a few seconds.

“I’m proposing.”

The words seem so absurd that you half expect him to break the tension with a quick joke, but he doesn’t. His gaze is glued to you, his words as serious as they can be. You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to react. Your mind is frozen.

“What the fuck, Will?”

Will grins at that and shakes his head as if he’d expected your reaction to be no different. He keeps his stance, one knee on the floor, as he stares at you affectionately—with so much love you’re surprised he doesn’t explode from it. The man is enjoying your confusion and the fact that he managed to pull it out of you. He’s not ashamed to admit it, either.

“That’s the kind of reaction I was hoping for,” he says quietly and in a matter of time, his hand is on your thigh, tracing invisible circles on the soft fabric of your pajama pants. “You were always going to say no for the first time.”

You blink at him, trying to coax out words from within you, but you don’t find any. That only makes you even more confused, and your expression turns to a frown. Is he really… asking you to marry him?

“I know, I’m quite the romantic.” He pauses, trying to stifle his chuckle. “Do you want me to ask you the usual way?”

“Will, are you serious?” you ask, your voice so gentle the words barely sound like they’re yours. Will only nods his head. “I don’t want you to ask at all. I want us to get married as soon as possible.”

He reaches down to grab your hands in his. “I never believed in marriage. I’m not sure if I do now either,” he admits awkwardly, playing with your fingers. “But I really want to hear people call you Mrs. Graham.”

Your heart jumps as he speaks as if you’d been waiting for him to admit those words for years. The words sink in slowly and your eyes become distant, as if you’d been taken back in time. A warm feeling spreads across your chest like you just swallowed a whole bottle of wine in one ginormous gulp.

“You know I can’t say no.” Your words are quiet and soft. He pulls you down onto his lap, his hands still around your fingers as he brings them to his chest. “Can I call you mine too?” 

“Always,” Will replies, his voice low and quiet, but full of love and emotion. “It’s been you all along.”

A soft smile rests on your face as you look down at him. Your head is right above his, but you decide to close the tiny distance between you by leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. You feel your heart race as you do so.

“Did you come up with this to distract me?” Your voice is playful, but the air around you is thick and humid. 

Will leans forward and wraps his arms snugly around your waist, hugging you tight. Your fingers play with his curls, his head back on your chest. The whole weight of him hangs onto you like all the sins in the world, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Maybe,” he replies, a smile tugging at his lips, even though he seems serious.

You can feel his body shift, and suddenly Will presses you firmly against the growing hardness inside his jeans. The whimper that pushes past your lips as you feel it through the thin layer of your pajama pants is downright desperate. You both can’t hide the fact that your breaths are becoming more irregular, muscles tensing under each other’s hands.

“I like being distracted like this,” you whisper, your nose nuzzling against his temple. 

A low growl comes from the man’s chest. You’re close enough to the source of the sound to feel the vibration against your body. He presses his face to your neck, taking in the scent of your skin like he’s oxygen-deprived.

“Should I distract you too, Will?” you ask him quietly, tugging at his tousled hair.

“You’ve done enough, dear. I’m already distracted.” His voice is soft, and his words catch in his throat. Will doesn’t seem to have a single rational thought going through his head. It’s like all he can process is his need for you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say this was a spell cast on him. “I want you.” His hand moves to your hip, and he presses into you harder, your breath catching in your throat. “Please.”

And who are you to deny him of anything his soul could ever want or need? You don’t wait for more encouragement as your fingers start working on hastily unbuttoning his shirt. They trace the smooth lines of his chest, the scars that mark his skin, and every little detail of him—every part of his history that he once saw as a defect. It’s not. It’s who he is, who he’s always been—his past is a part of what made him the Will you know and love. 

Your fingers slowly make their way down to his belt and unclasp it too in one go. You graze over his hardness on accident, already feeling its heat through the thin layer. You let out a whimper and your whole brain starts to short-circuit. 

“Slowly.” Will’s voice is hoarse and raw, his fingers digging deeply into the skin of your hip. “I want to see you.”

The man doesn’t waste any time in waiting for your reaction as his hand moves up to your face. His touch is gentle as it pushes back your hair, his fingertips rubbing against the skin behind your ear before they start pursuing the shape of your neck—every muscle and tendon.

“Slowly,” he repeats, and you can’t help but groan.

Nevertheless, you obey, letting your hands explore every surface of his flesh again like he’s the perfect puzzle that you need to solve. His own mirror yours, sliding below the thin layer of your t-shirt, grazing over your navel, and pushing upwards.

Every move you make leaves its mark, causing his body to tremble even more. His breath becomes so uneven, you think he might fall apart at any moment. The mere sound sends shivers down your spine.

“Yes, like that,” he mumbles, and his lips are right next to your ear as he whispers these words. His hand moves again and starts to tug at your shirt.

You help him remove it in one go, left in only your plaid pajama bottoms. Will’s touch is familiar, one you could never forget—not like the dozen strangers through the past few years, you never even remembered their faces come tomorrow morning. But his touch sets you ablaze—burns and soothes at the same time, it’s unforgettable.

Will reaches up to pull your head against his so that you’re staring straight at one another. His touch is gentle, but there’s an intensity to it that you can’t mistake. His lips slowly approach yours with such an intense need that you can read it in his gaze. Even though he doesn’t say it, you feel that this kiss is more than just desire—it’s a need to be as close to you as possible, to never let you go again. His tongue delves inside your mouth, and you sigh into it.

The feeling of your skin pressed against his leaves Will desperate, his mind so overwhelmed and in a haze, he can’t even form the words to describe the sensation. His hand keeps moving as if your flesh were an addiction. The sound that leaves from his throat is something so close to a purr—he’s almost embarrassed. 

You feel his body tensing, his muscles flexing against yours, and your skin feels hot and all too sensitive. He’s taking advantage of this moment to touch you anywhere he can reach. His fingers leave no inch of your skin unexplored as he slowly begins to lower your pajama bottoms.

“God, you’re beautiful.” The sound of your voice draws Will’s eyes closed as he inhales deeply.

Will’s fingers glide down toward your legs, and he looks as if all his dreams are coming true at once. You see his eyes flicker open, and he looks at you with such intensity, such concentration, that it’s hard to breathe as you’re pulled along by an invisible force. He finally lets go of your chin so that he can drag your pajamas down further until they’re thrown across the room. 

You take his hands in yours, placing them over your breasts. And it’s only when his teeth drag across your neck, from just above your collarbone down to the crook of your shoulder, that he loses it completely. 

There’s no being slow or gentle when he pushes you away, standing up and pulling you to your feet. You take hurried steps back as he nudges you toward the bed. Soon enough, your calves hit the mattress and you fall back onto the blue duvet. You don’t even have a chance to take a breath, Will is hovering over you, elbows on each side of your head. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles, looking deep into your eyes—so deep you’re afraid he can see the broken soul behind them. 

You help him push his jeans and boxers down the length of his legs. The second they’re no longer an obstacle, Will’s fingers delve between your thighs, circling your clit teasingly with the gentlest of touches. Your lips part in a gasp, hands falling onto the covers to clench them in your fists.

“Will, please,” you plead between whimpers. He was the only one who could ever bring you to the point of begging, and you hope he knows it somewhere deep within. 

The man faces you with glassy eyes, swiping the tip of his tongue over his bottom lips. He doesn’t need you to say anything more, he just nods feverishly and lets your fingers guide him inside. The sensation of your heat gripping him tightly makes him groan, lips falling agape. You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing them behind his back, and pull him even closer. 

“Will,” you moan his name against his lips.

It spurs him on, makes him even more eager to please you. He draws back almost completely, then buries himself inside you again in one smooth motion. Your thighs tremble visibly, and it almost makes him smile. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, fingers tugging on his curls. 

Will rocks into you deep and steady, one of his hands digging into the meat of your thigh with so much force it hurts—but goddamn, you love this kind of pain. And he makes it feel even more heavenly when his thumb begins to trace circles over your clit.

It doesn’t take him long to take you over the edge—hard and fast—turning you into a mindless, hot, whimpering mess. You mumble his name over and over again as your heat pulses around his length, making him come just a few moments after you. He claims your mouth with his, making you taste your name on his lips. God, does it taste heavenly.

Night came quicker than you realized, covering the sky with bright stars and a full moon. Despite it, it’s not pitch black outside. The shimmering snow reflects the shining lights, fighting off the darkness well enough. It doesn’t make you feel any less threatened, even though it should.

You’re wrapped only in the blue duvet that covered the bed, as you lie on your side, facing Will, who’s already asleep. His bare thigh is right against yours, and the heat of his skin is almost impossible to resist. You let your eyes wander across his body, his physique—he looks like a sculpture, a masterpiece of flesh and bone.

Your body still aches from his touch, and you feel like you’re a puddle of emotions with the sole mission of holding love, affection, and desire for him. You’re about as far away from being “fine” as possible. You didn’t even get a chance to tell him you’ll be working together from now on. He doesn’t know he’s allowed back in BAU, and you wonder if you should leave him unknowing for as long as possible. It’s not your greatest idea, but the idea of him breaking beyond repair terrifies you.

You try to calm your heart as it races and skips a beat every time his body shifts—the smallest movement seems like it could wake him up. But as you lie there in the darkness, his hand reaches out and finds its rightful place on your thigh again, his fingers barely grazing your skin. The sensation makes you almost jump out of your skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Why are you awake?” he asks with half-closed eyes.

“Can’t sleep,” you reply softly, wanting to touch him back, but not sure if you should.

“I figured,” he murmurs. “You didn’t sleep much yesterday either.”

You sigh sadly, you didn’t think he’d noticed. His hand moves up your thigh, almost instinctively, until it touches you just below your hip. It stops there, and your eyelashes flutter at its warmth against your skin.

“You can touch me.” Will’s voice is so quiet it’s almost inaudible, and you don’t have to be told twice.

Your fingers slip under the duvet, so the fabric doesn’t block your touch, and you begin to trace the outline of his leg with the tips of your fingers. Will’s eyes finally open, and he looks almost nervous at the intimate touch—until you find the spot where he’s ticklish. He lets out an adorable whimper, so naturally, you laugh and keep going.

“No, no, please stop,” Will moans, trying to fight back his chuckles, squirming as he tries to get away from your touch. The whole time he’s half-smiling, his fingers digging into the duvet for stability. He tries to grab your hands, but it only makes you laugh harder. 

You find another ticklish spot on the side of his torso and continue to tease him. Eventually, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you watch Will scoot back, out of your reach. Your sour mood from before is gone in an instant.

Will moves up so that he’s sitting up against the wall, practically on the edge of the bed, and he looks almost offended by your reaction. Your gaze shifts, so you can get a fuller view of him.

“I’m not as ticklish as you think,” he says, his tone serious, though you can still hear a tremble in his voice. “If you wanted to see me squirm,” he adds, “you could’ve found a different method.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and you immediately pull the sheets up to cover the bottom part of your face, trying to hide your flustered reaction from his eyes. 

“You’re so cute,” he says, his voice just a whisper, almost as if he was afraid that anything above a murmur could wake the dogs sleeping by the fireplace. “So adorable.”

Will’s hand rests on your head, his fingers playing with the strands of hair that cover your ears. You can feel him studying you—how your nose twitches and your eyes almost close as you wait for his next words. Something about it feels intimate as if he’s taking in every detail of your expression one by one. It’s been a while since he’s done that, you didn’t even realize how much you missed it.

“You can pull it down, you know,” he says playfully, his hand still in your hair. “This must be suffocating.”

“I know,” you say quietly, as you pull the sheets down from your face.

Will’s fingers interlace with yours, and you can feel his thumb circling your wrist. 

“And yes, it is a bit suffocating.” You pull the sheets down to your collarbones, and a chill runs through your body as the cold air touches your arms. “Maybe you can warm me up.” 

Will smiles—a small, sweet smile, with a bit of mischief thrown in.  “Maybe I can,” his tone is playful as he pulls you close, your cheek finding a home on his chest, right above his heart.

After a few long minutes of silence and listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat, you turn to face him, resting your chin above his pec.

“We’re back on the team, you know?” you mumble almost mindlessly.

Will looks down at you, his expression gentle as he caresses your hair. 

“I know.”

His gaze trails down your face and lingers on your lips for a brief moment before it shifts again. There are so many things Will wants to say, but he can’t bring himself to do it—he fears it would ruin these quiet, peaceful moments between you two.

You don’t question how he already knows that, choosing instead to voice your other thoughts—ones that’ve been on your mind almost the whole day. “What did Alana want from you?”

Will’s hand pauses against your face when you bring up her name, and for a moment he seems speechless, which is rare a thing for him.

“I…” He trails off but then speaks again as if he’s found the courage to say the words. “Alana wants me to stay away from Hannibal,” he says quietly, his fingers moving on your cheeks, your brows, your chin, as if his hand isn’t allowed to stay still for a second without touching the flesh it can. “She’s sleeping with him.”

“Why does she want you to stay away?”

“Because I tried to kill him.”

You don’t even blink at his confession, there’s no fear in your gaze—no ounce of surprise. There was a time in your life when this revelation would’ve shocked you, broken you in half, but after your father’s death, when you’re faced with it, it’s… easy to handle. Will expected this kind of indifference, he knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t judge nor be afraid.

“How?”

Will lets your question hang in the air for a long minute before he speaks. He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Not by my hand—not like that,” he starts. “Hannibal has a lot of… a lot of hold over me,” he pauses again, “he made me want to do it.” It’s probably the most vulnerable, the most genuine explanation Will has given anyone. He’s speaking to you from the heart and in pure honesty. “An opportunity fell on my lap to send someone after him, so I took it.”

You nod your head in acknowledgment—it makes sense to you. “It’s a shame it didn’t work out.”

A hint of a smile appears on Will’s face. He moves his fingers to the nape of your neck and to caress the lines of your ear—it’s something he always used to do when he was thinking and you were nearby. “Alana’s very upset with me.”

Will’s other hand slides over your thigh, his fingers teasing the skin, almost as if he was trying to test it, like a cat with a piece of string. He’s still thinking when his hand starts to move upwards, closer to your hip.

“Don’t take it to heart,” you advise him, leaving a soothing peck on his jaw. It was the best you could do.

“I’m trying.” He laughs in a low rumble, his hand moving between your legs and your whole body tenses. “I’m trying,” he says again.

The touch is so soft and gentle—almost teasing, yet your body seems to be craving it. It makes him nervous, but also excited, and when he closes his eyes his head just falls back to rest against the wall, his teeth showing as he breathes in deeply.

“Would you have done this if I��” his words trail off into silence as the man doesn’t seem certain about how to finish his sentence. He looks at you, his face revealing all the questions that he doesn’t dare to ask.

You grasp his jaw between your hands, encouraging him to speak his mind, but being unconditionally patient at the same time. He tries to say something again, then changes his mind. It’s as if he’s playing a constant game with you, trying to reach into your mind without opening his mouth like most people do.

“If you…”

“If I was still the same,” he mumbles out finally.

“Will, you are still the same person. Perhaps a little more broken than before, but it’s still you.”

Will stays silent and still for a minute with his eyes closed, his hand still between your legs. The tips of his fingers keep barely touching you, almost a caress, although a bit harsher than before.  His lids flutter open, so you can see his face as it’s lit by the moonlight.

“There’s something I’d like you to promise,” he says cautiously as if every word is carefully thought out before he speaks it aloud. “Promise me that you’ll keep trusting in me... even if you don’t understand.” 

Will’s hand moves up from between your legs so that he can touch your waist and hold you in place. The fingers of his other hand stroke your face down to the side of your neck, and you can feel how your heart starts to beat faster and faster with each touch.

“I will always trust you, Will. Just never lie to me again, have a little faith in me too.”

Will lets his eyes fall down to your lips again, and he can’t help but bite his own in response. As if he was trying to hold himself together but the urge to kiss you was almost too strong, the way his gaze kept shifting. 

When his lips touch yours—it’s a long, slow kiss, deep and gentle at the same time. He holds you in place, your hips pressed against his as if he doesn’t want you to move, even a centimeter. And you don’t dream of being anywhere else but here—by his side.

“I love you, Will.”

[mixtapedoh]

wonwoo + uni concept cause you know i’m a slut for what we’ve created

⋰˚☆ jeon wonwoo x university! au . . .

he feels overwhelmingly shy when you're close to him like this — bodies nearly touching as you lean closer to him on the campus shuttle. the football game being held that evening accounted for all of the people on the bus and the unusual proximity you were faced with now, as there were more people than accommodations the shuttle could account for. you murmured an apology as your shoulder knocked into him, and your hand brushed against his, electrifying warmth in contrast to the heatless railing. "we should have left earlier to beat the crowd," you suggested, but as wonwoo watches the softness of your lips shaping the almost conspiratorial commiseration and feels heat creep up the back of his neck, he can't help but think he'd like to be in a thousand cramped busses on a thousand crowded campuses just to be this close to you again, near enough to see the blemishes on your cheeks and the myriad emotions swirling in your eyes.

he cleared his throat, but his voice was still deep in his chest when he spoke. "i don't mind."

the comment was enough to pass his shyness to you, a triumph wonwoo would quietly revel in for the rest of the evening, as the both of you made it to your building, and at the hallway where you would part ways to make it to your respective dorm rooms, said a lingering farewell.

"we're still on for a study date on wednesday, right?"

a date. wonwoo still gets a particular kind of rush from you calling the mutual study sessions the two of you had a date, juvenile as that might sound. the ambiguity of it let him read into it what he would, and he rather liked to think that you enjoyed the vagueness of it, too, and that's why you insisted on calling them such.

"yes, of course. and, umm..." wonwoo wasn't sure what confidence spurned him on, but you took a step closer at his words — reaching back into his personal space just like you had on that campus shuttle, though there was no need for your proximity, now, other than that which you made for yourself. "coffee? after? only if you still want to, then, and it's not too late".

which it would be, of course. the both of your course and work schedules meant you only ever got to study together late in the evening, finishing only when the night came in close to blanket you both in sometime quiet and still. coffee at that hour would be laughable. the only thing more ridiculous than coffee after studying all night would be the impulse to consider asking if he could kiss you, or hold your hand, or listen to you ramble about your course load, or the professor you were warring with, or the every minutia of your life that wouldn't amount to much of anything, in the end, but the feeling that he was collecting little pieces of you that he could hold dear for as long as you'd allow.

but you were smiling something beautiful, the corners of your perfectly transfixing mouth stretching upward, cradling all the joy you were capable of holding as you agreed, "yeah... let's do it. coffee. i'd really like that."

send me an idol + a concept & i’ll give you a little moodboard & blurb

[bruhnze]

Apple tarts and tiramisu - part 3 - Lucy Bronze x reader

Other parts: part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

Lucy Bronze x Barista!reader

Summary: this story takes place in 2022, when Lucy just moved to Barcelona, ​​all fictional of course.

SMUT - MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3k? Maybe a bit over that .. warning, i didn't proofread..

Apple tarts and tiramisu 3

You dropped besides her on the bed out of breath and laid on your back panting.

"You are so good in bed" Lucy said after a bit "you probably won't believe me but usually others can't really make me cum"

You laughed because not only did you make her come multiple times in the past couple of hours, yesterday you had also made her come twice and that happend pretty quickly if you remembered it right "yeah right, you dont have to try to make me feel good, i already do" you chuckled.

Lucy rolled her eyes "i told you you wouldn't believe me, but now your even laughing at me ouch" she put her hand on her chest and faked being offended.

You climbed on top of her "aw sorry did i hurt your feelings" you sarcasticly said "Do i have to make up for it with another orgasm?" You traced you fingertips at certain parts of Lucy's body, resulting in the exact reaction from her body you had hoped "see, we just did all that and you still can't get enough" you came closer to her ear and wispered "if anything, i think your easy".

Lucy's jaw dropped open, she was usually, almost always, the one who would take the lead in the bedroom with her previous partners.

Lucy couldn't believe what you did and how much effect it had on her.

You broke the tension "but sadly im totally done for" you sighed and stepped out off the bed "shall we take a shower?"

She looked at you confused and with refueld desire "are you just gonna- now you want too-

You smirked and then joked "yeah im not an athlete like you,.. i should probably work on my stamina"

She groaned "sure you dont want to come back to the bed for a minute"

"Lucy," you laughed "if i lay down one more second i am a thousand percent sure i will fall asleep"

"Okay" she sighed "lets take a shower then".

////

The following days were quite busy for Lucy, she wouldn't be free until next sunday. You had asked her if she usually only had an off-day on sundays.

''Hmm, yeah i guess, sunday is supposed to be my rest day, because it's usually the day after the match, so then i shouldn't do too much, saturday's before games are also free time, but then i have to be even more carefull. But my scedule is very versatile, so i just try to live day-to-day really. I look at my agenda weekly and keep it at that''. Had her answer been.

You had a lot of respect for her, you knew she loved football but it was truly a life dedication to play for Barca, you imagined the pay would be quite good but you didn't know if you would trade your own simplistic for such a hectic one.

You thought about how things would be if you and Lucy would get together as a couple one day and daydreamed about it during your whole monday shift.

Lucy had told you she had a busy day that monday and besides that, you weren't sure if she would get her matcha at your coffee shop still after the weekend you had. You didn't know why you had the thought because the two of you had basicaly been texting ever since you left her house that night until she, and you, had to go to sleep. That morning you had recieved a goodmorning text and you had send one back, you had already opened the shop. When she send a picture of her brushing her teeth, you send her one back of you preperaring the coffee machine, deserving a ''cute x'' You didn't know what to reply so you had just replied ''no you x'' After that it had been quiet, resulting in you daydreaming the whole shift.

Around noon your phone buzzed again, for the umpteenth time this day you quickly checked if it was Lucy. Normaly your phone was on silent when you worked, but today you were so eager to recieve another text from the woman that had taken over your thoughts that you had left it on vibration mode.

You smiled, your lockscreen said 'Lucy apple tart send an image , unlock to see.'

You opened it and saw a selfie of her with a sweaty face on some kind of massage table.

@Lucy apple tart: still think im cute 🙃?

@y/n: yes but what are you doing, getting massages?

@y/n: thought you had training 😂

@Lucy apple tart: just done training, and this is physio btw not massages

@Lucy apple tart: although we get those too sometimes, but thats more a recovery thing

@y/n: ah, got it, when is your next game?

@Lucy apple tart: saturday why

@y/n: you have to recover after that right

@Lucy apple tart: yup

@y/n: need a masseur?

@Lucy apple tart: 👀

@y/n: 👀

@Lucy apple tart: its a nearby away game which means i will be back v late 😔

@y/n: ah and sleep is the most important recovery!

@Lucy apple tart: wise and pretty you are!

@y/n: thats just me quoting my PE teacher friend, she's quite a serious gym girl haha

@Lucy apple tart: the one u took to the game?

@y/n: yes shes my bestfriend

@Lucy apple tart: can i meet her sometimes? she sounds v nice

@y/n: bet she would love that

@Lucy apple tart: cool

@Lucy apple tart: if you want it could be at the game saturday?

@y/n: maybe a bit too public no?

@Lucy apple tart: GIF

@y/n: sticker

@y/n: cant be seen in public with u

@Lucy apple tart: 😂😂

@y/n: but fr?

@Lucy apple tart: love that you care and take my side in to perspective x

@Lucy apple tart: but ill fix tickets thatll get you access to the lounge before and after the game, we wont be there before the game but after we will, and then i could meet her?

@y/n: really

@Lucy apple tart: yeah im excited to meet your friend, usually that comes before the parents right

@y/n: lol u already met my mom tho

@Lucy apple tart: 😳

@y/n: well (yfs/n) will be v excited

@Lucy apple tart: im too!

You took a screenshot of the conversation to send to your bestfriend to tell her that she had been invited.

You wrote ''Espero que encara sigueu lliure, vau ser convidat per la mateixa senyoreta abs xx'' (hope your free, you were invited by miss abs herself xx) send her the screenshot.

One second later you realised you had send it back to Lucy.

@y/n: fuck

@y/n: wait dont translate pls

@y/n: just wanted to send yfs/n that she should keep her saturday empty

@Lucy apple tart: 😂😂😂😂Lucy apple tart

@y/n: omg

@y/n: didnt even remember that i had put that as your name

@y/n: 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

@Lucy apple tart: senyoreta abs 👀

@y/n: nooo abs is something else in catalan

@Lucy apple tart: what does it mean then?

@y/n: it means absolutely :)

@Lucy apple tart: ah okay!

..you texted your friend the screenshot and one of this part of the conversation..

@y/n: my excuse was terrible wasnt it

@Lucy apple tart:😂

@y/n: sry for objectifying you 😔

@Lucy apple tart: nah you give the best nicknames lmao

@y/n: really?

@Lucy apple tart: yh i cant pick if i like guapa or senorita abs best

@y/n: senyoreta abs

@Lucy apple tart: 😂 okay that ll be it then

@y/n: no you wrote spanish dummy

@Lucy apple tart: oop, senyoreta abs*

@y/n: good

@Lucy apple tart: good girl?

@y/n: now your pushing it apple tart!

@Lucy apple tart: sticker

@y/n: Sticker

@Lucy apple tart: ah shit gtg

@Lucy apple tart: ttyl pretty girl

@y/n: sticker

////

''I love this for you'' your friend said to you as you were sitting in the car driving to the stadium one town away ''and that you sent her the screenshot omg, so funny''.

''i felt so dumb omg'' you replied in Catalan ''but luckily she passed all the tests, she's not stuck up at all'.

Your friend quirked an eyebrow ''all the tests?''

''yeah, the putellas shirt? and now this too, she didn't even tease me about it'' you said.

''Maybe she's saving that'' your friend grinned.

You had told her to very detail about your experiences in bed with the dark-haired defender. The two of you always shared everything, eventhough her story's would be about men and yours about women.

''Stop it!'' you kept one hand on the steering wheel and with the other you poked her side ''and you will not say anything embarrasing about me later''.

''i wont y/n'' your friend said truthfully, but jokingly added ''i love getting to watch these games from the stands, im not going to take risks and end up behind the TV again''.

''good keep thinking about that'' you said.

''you aren't nervous are you?'' she asked

'' a little bit maybe, but i dont really know why, just healthy nerves i guess'' you stared at the road.

''hm, well im there to hold your hand'' she said and rubbed your arm affirmatively.

''Thank you''

..

''by the way, i wanted to pick up going to the gym a bit more if you still wanted me to come with? '' you asked.

''ugh i hate the fact that i know your motivation is sex but i love that you finally want to come so ill take it'' your friend groaned.

''what?''

''nah dont play stupid, you told me yourself that you lacked stamina to keep up with her''.

''Sorry sometimes i forget we share too much with eachother'' you groaned back

''nuh uh no such thing as oversharing'' her smile came back ''i love hearing about your life and i love oversharing mine''

''yeah true that, how did that date go anyways?''

''thuesday?''

''yeah''.

////

It was after the game. Your friend and you had watched Barca beat Girona FC with 1-4. It had been a scary start, as Girona had been 1-0 ahead, but overall Barca had been the better party.

''Here'' your friend handed you a drink ''got it from there'' she pointed at a bar in the corner.

There were quite a few people hanging around in the lounge. You saw your friend observing everyone ''recognise annyone?''

Your friend laughed ''yeah it's funny, i see some family members of the players'' she nodded in a direction ''i believe that is Olga, she's Putellas girl''.

''How do you know?''

''Instagram'' she replied ''honestly i cant believe how bad you're living under a rock, even now, i would've been searching the whole internet if my girlfriend was famous, you have-

''she's not my girlfriend'' you hissed as your cheeks got flushed.

''oh sorry'' your friend smirked but when she saw your face she said ''ill behave''.

''Good, corazón de melón''

Your friend cringed, she hated when you used that nickname. But when she looked over your shoulder her face came back to a smile ''if that isn't senyoreta abs''.

You turned around shamefully quick and saw a few Barca players entering the lounge, freshly showered and dressed in a tracksuit.

You turned back to your friend wanting to ask were, but when you saw a stupid grinn on her face you know she had fooled you.

''ahhh you shouldve seen how quickly you turned'' she burst out laughing.

''Something funny?'' you heard a farmilliar face.

This time you turned around more slowely ''Lucy?''

''heyy you remembered my name'' Lucy said as she walked over to the two of you and gave you a hug.

''well this is yfs/n'' you looked over to your friend ''yfs/n this is Lucy''.

''yep i knew'' your friend said unusually shy.

You chuckled ''where did your big mouth go, it's just lucy''.

Lucy became also a bit shy ''hey yfs/n heard so many good things about you., can i hug you?''

''yeah ofcourse'' your friend said enthousiasticly.

The three of you chatted for a while and when the players left the room one by one , Lucy was the only player left in the lounge.

When your friend and Lucy talked about a subject you didn't really care for, sports, you're eyes wandered around the room.

''eh Luce, dont want to be a buzz kill but your mates have left''

''Oh shit'' Lucy said ''thanks, should probably get running, dont want to miss the bus''.

She dapped your friend up, which made you frown, but then gave you a hug. ''bye pretty girl'' she wispered in you ear.

As she walked off you said ''bye apple tarts'' but you doubted she heared it.

////

You were back in your apartment, you had dropped of your friend at hers and was now walking to your bed, dieing for something more comfy to wear.

Your phone rang, it was Lucy.

''Hey'' Lucy said carefully.

''what's up'' you said as you had the phone between your ear and shoulder pulling of your pants and socks.

''Hello to you too'' lucy laughed ''wanted to ask if you got home safe''

''sorry'' you laughed back ''im multitasking, but yes im at home''

''oh what are you doing?'' She asked sincere, truely curious what you were up too.

You snickered ''well if you need to know, im getting undressed''

''oh, really'' she said cheeky

Your phone buzzed and you took it in your hand to look.

*FaceTime request from Lucy apple tarts*

''ohh nooo apple tarts, cheeky bastard'' you laughed.

''ugh, worth a try'' she pouted true the phone.

''If you really want a peek you'd have to come here'' you teased

''Well,.. i guess i still have that offer for a massage to take you up on'' she said.

In the same tone she used you replied ''yeah i guess you do, you should probably cash that, never know when it will expire''.

////

You had taken out oil from somewhere and lit a candle, on the bed you had placed two folded towels and a white bathrobe.

''hello'' you called true the intercom as Lucy had buzzed it.

In the time it had took her to come to you, which had been suprisingly little, you had put on some lingerie and on top of that a oversized shirt.

''y/n'' she said as you opened the door.

''hey Luce-'' you said with a dopey smile.

''what? were are you smiling at?'' She asked and looked at her sweater, thinking she had maybe spilled something.

''No silly'' you stepped into her space ''happy i can finally kiss you again''.

''hmm'' lucy said as she came closer to your mouth with her own ''yeah finally indeed''.

...

''wow, you have prepared'' Lucy smiled

''yeah, you can wear the robe i guess, i have to admitt i dont realllyy know what im doing''.

''hm'', Lucy grinned ''well im with you, i only know sportsmassages and than im in my kit'', ''or underwear''.

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow ''underwear''

''yeah you know, sportsbra'' she lifted her shirt a bit and pointed at her briefs ''boxers''.

''ohhhh underwear'' you sarcasticly replied ''okay so, underwear? or i could put those towels over you''.

''mkay'' Lucy grinned ''if you insist, i wouldn't have minded to be bare''.

''well we haven't started yet, you could-

''no ill take that towel'' she smirked ''for over my butt''.

...

you had spent a fair time kneeding Lucy's back muscles and shoulders and was now busy on her hamstrings.

''very thight'' you said, not realising how dirty that sounded.

Lucy hadn't picked up on it either and groaned ''yeah especially that left one''

You moved to her left.

''ah yeah, there'' ''uhg, a litte more le- ahrggghh yeah like that'''.

The sounds Lucy made and the words she grunted had you blushing.

You went to her calves for a bit before retrieving back to her hamstrings creeping up slowely but surely. Your hands were already pretty far under the towel, but the towel had been so big that when you had folded it double, it still covered way to much area for your liking.

''i think i have to get the towel out of the way'' you say ''cant reach your gluteus maximus''.

Lucy laughed into the bed ''if you want to touch my butt just ask''.

''no'' you stayed in your role ''this is a sportsmassage, cant ignore the largest muscle of the body, can i''.

''Calling my ass fat'' she snickered

''You think its funny?''' You said smugly and experimentally gave a little smack to her butt.

'Agh' a moan escaped her throath.

You massaged her ass, grabbing hands full and kneeded it. Before you tracked back to her muscles, continuing the 'sports' massage.

You didnt know if you saw it right, but you thought you saw her lifting her butt just a bit from the bed.

You stood up. "Turn around?" You asked.

She groaned bit turned around, she didn't bother trying to cover up anymore. Leaving the towel where you had dropped it next to her on the bed.

You shamelessly let your eyes roam her body.

Lucy squirmed under your gaze and reached out to one of your hands and placed it on her body.

"tan bonic" (so beautiful) you said softly almost wispering it.

You traced over her abdomen, feeling the buldging muscles below her skin.

Lucy's nipples hardened, and she grabbed her boobs with her own hands.

"Ey, atura ho" you said with an husk voice "i thought i was giving you the massage".

"O" lucy retracted her hands and laid them back besides her.

The way she obeyed you turned you on increddibly.

You climbed on top of her, sitting on hip height of her body, feeling your pulsating heat press into her body.

You want to reach forward to cup her breasts but the long t-shirt that you wore was caught between your bodies, restricting your movement.

With your knees on either side of Lucy you sit up a bit and pull of the shirt. Leaving you in just your underwear but still more dressed than Lucy is.

"Best massage ever" lucy grinned " a masseuse that takes of her shirt"

"It got in my way" you said a you palmed her chest.

"Im not complaining" she said.

When you took her nipples between your fingers she closed her eyes.

You leaned down to kiss her neck. Making you grind on her a little wich make you realise how wet you were.

Her hands found your hips and encouraged your movement.

You sat up a little bit more searching for the angle that worked best for you.

Lucy looked you in your eyes, you recougnised lust in her eyes.

"Tell me" you pant, slowing your movement "what's your happy ending?"

She tried to read your face, not completely understanding you or wanting to make sure she understanded you correctly.

"Anyting" you wispered ensuring "celebrate the win with me?"

She gulped and sat straight up, your upperbodies were now almost touching as you sat on her lap.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Mhm" you grinned "i can see in your eyes you need something"

Luxy pulled you in for a kiss and turned the two of you so that she was now on top of you.

"I brought something" she wispered "wait for me"

You laughed "no i wont go anywere i promise" after all you were laying in your own bed, you wouldnt even know were to go.

You blew out the candle that you saw was still burning, thinking it was hot enough in the room. And made yourself comfortable.

You realised how late it actually was and thought about the fact that you didnt feel sleepy at all.

If anything you felt adrenaline, curious about the thing Lucy had brought.

You didnt have to wait for an awnser long because Lucy stepped back into the room.

You saw her wearing a strap-on, with a black harness.

Lucy looked at you waiting for a respons.

When she didnt move, you stood up from the bed and walked her way.

You gave her a little kiss on her bottom lip and then went to her cheek.

"Hey" you said in her ear and turned to kiss her neck. You felt her shiver below your tender kisses.

"Hey" lucy said back "what do you think?" She asked carefully.

"I think your hot" you said softly biting her skin "and maybe you should carrie me to the bed" you hand felt up her stomach and went to her bicep.

Lucy smiled "you ike me muscles pretty girl?"

Her voice was low and she sounded more english, you took it as a sign that she was just as turned on as you.

She grabbed your ass and effortlessly lifted you up. You sat against the thick plastic item attached to Lucy.

You groaned, the 'massage' you had given lucy and the grinding on Lucy had already worked you up so much that you were sure you didnt need much to come undone.

Lucy turned around before the bed and sat down with you on her lap.

The two of you became entangled in a heavy make out session.

She was such a good kisser, you lost yourself in the kiss and your hips moved on their own.

She broke away from the kiss, placing a few more on your lips.

"Want to ride me?"

"Mhmm yeah" you moaned out, imagening feeling her inside already.

You stepped of her lap and quickly took of the pieces you were still wearing.

Lucy scootched back on the bed. Leaning her back against the headboard.

She looked at you with a glistering in her eyes. "la chica mas bonita" (the prettiest)

You smiled and got back on the bed, taking place on her thighs.

"cant wait to have you on my cock" Lucy said as she rubbed your upper thighs and hips.

You looked at her with wide eyes, not expecting those words.

"sorry, too much?

You didnt answer but kissed her. She returned the same energy but let yku lead the kiss.

When you broke the kiss you wispered " want to feel you inside me luce"

She guided you on to her strap, you lowered yourself carefully.

You closed your eyes and your hands found Lucy's abdomen to stabilise yourself.

She replaced her hands so they were a bit more on your ass rather then your hips and leaned in to kiss your neck.

The movement with her inside you set a low moan free from your throath.

She kissed your neck softly.

Once you had adjusted to the object that was within you, you began to move slowly.

"Lucy you feel so good" you said grinding down on her.

She kneeded your ass and sat up straighter, you removed your arma from inbetween the two of you to around her. Pulling her even more close to you.

Her mouth working you neck, her hands on your butt and her body coliding with yours in many places by the intimit embrace you shared all took part in the uncontrolable high you experienced.

You cried out Lucy's name and digged you nails in her back as you rutted up and down her dick a few more strokes before collapsing against her.

Her fingers traced your back and then went to wipe some strands of hair out of your face "that was amazing" she said with a scrill voice.

"Hmm" you nodded against her neck "you feel amazing, show me how good you can make me feel?"

"now?"

"Mhmm" you groaned "i want you lucy"

-----

That concludes part 3 😳 hope you liked it

more parts

[myfictionaldreams]

Omg, could you do a challenge like reader see's a challenge on tiktok ,, no kissing" and she doesn't kiss and avoids kissing Steve. Steve gets annoyed and ask her whats wrong and at the end of the day they do cuddles and fluff and smut

This started as a drabble and ended up taking a life of its own.

tags: 18+ readers only, smut, slight angst, teasing, begging, sad boy steve, overstimulation, edging, crying because of mean!dom steve, aftercare

You thought it would be easy not being able to kiss Steve for a few hours and it was only a silly little TikTok challenge that had you laughing as you scrolled through the tag on the app watching other people's attempts.

You even contemplated involving Bucky but then it would be too much work so you just kept it to yourself, deciding to start whilst at the office. It didn’t help matters that you were wearing Steve’s favourite dress so his eyes seemed to be constantly glued to your exposed legs and pushed-up breasts. Ok, maybe you were playing up to the challenge and wanting to look as irresistible as possible to the mafia boss but then he always explained that you could be wearing a plastic bag and he would still find you captivating.

Sitting in your little lounger to the side of the office, you hide your phone camera and wait. Like clockwork, two minutes of glances was all it took for Steve to stand tall from his desk and walk over, squatting in front of you and taking the book you were pretending to read from your grasp. His face inched towards yours and you almost forgot about the challenge as you craved to meet him in the middle but in the last second, you turned your head.

“I was reading that”, you say innocently, plucking the book back and beginning to read. Steve frowned, trying to think back to the thousands of times the two of you had kissed and if you’d ever avoided him and came up empty. Maybe you were just distracted he decided and kissed your temple and moved back to his seat looking like a puppy with his tail between his legs.

He wasn’t the only one who was suspicious as you caught eye contact with Bucky who was squinting his eyes at you in confusion. You shrugged your shoulders and continued reading.

This all happened once more half an hour later as you stood and approached Steve, arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his neck to take his attention from the screen. Immediately his hands settled on your waste as he pulled you onto his lap. Steve dipped his face towards your lips and you turned in the last moment so he kissed your cheek.

“Why are you doing that?” he asked, trying not to sound hurt or annoyed, he wanted to feel your lips against his, why were you denying him? Had he done something wrong, he thought.

“Doing what?”, was your nonchalant response as you continued to act as normal.

Steve leaned in again, his hand on your chin to try and keep you in place and now the only way you could escape was by standing and announcing that you were going to the toilet. However, on your way past Steve, he grabbed your arm, his fingers on your chin just like Steve’s and you didn’t shy away from the kiss which only made him more confused as you walked off. You actually did have to use the bathroom so you weren’t lying. As you exited though, you were greeted by your other boyfriend, standing with his arms crossed and a frown on his face.

“You sent me this TikTok two weeks ago, I know your little game”, he informed you, your rouse already up.

“Please don’t say anything to Steve, I want to see how far I can take him before he snaps”.

Bucky stepped forward, towering over you as he contemplated for a moment. “You know he’s going crazy in there right? I don’t think it’s getting the desired effect you were hoping for, he looks more upset than anything. He thinks he’s done something to upset you”.

A sinking feeling came over your heart as you felt bad that he felt like he’d done something wrong. Maybe you would go and tell him about the trend but then again… it had only been an hour, you could always make it up to him later.

“I won’t do it for much longer, I promise just please go along with it Buckaroo”, you begged, fluttering your eyelashes up at him until he succumbed and pecked your lips.

Back in the room, Steve’s eyes followed you as you now sat at the main desk with your book, flicking through the pages and feeling his eyes burn a hole into your body.

30 seconds. 30 whole seconds ticked by and Steve was out of his chair, dropping to his knees as he moved yours back until you were looking down at him.

“What did I do? Please talk to me, what can I do to fix it?” Steve begged sincerely. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you reached to cup his cheek, instincts taking over to care for him.

“Nothing Steve, you’ve done nothing wrong, I promise”, you tried to reassure him.

“Then kiss me baby”, he implored, his hands settling on the outside of your thighs.

You leaned forward and kissed his cheek and moved back again to see him frown.

It was Bucky who spoke next as he sat opposite you at the table, “For the love of God, please can you tell him what you’re doing, he’s breaking my heart, Mama”.

Steve’s frown deepend until there was a deep line in between as he looked between you and Bucky. Sighing you stood and picked up your phone, stopping the recording. “It’s a TikTok trend, ‘no kissing on the lips’, I was seeing how long we could go but we only got… just under an hour”.

Whilst you explained, you didn’t see the calculating, predatory gaze Steve was giving you. There he was, frightened he’d hurt his best girl and there you were teasing and laughing at him. He stood, taking swift large steps towards you before halting, taking your phone and throwing it onto the lounger.

You stared up at him with wide eyes, swallowing audibly as he tilted his head and looked up and down with a hungry gaze. “My funny, sweet girl with your fun little games”, he mumbled, lifting his finger and stroking over the tops of your breasts causing you to shiver at the rough feeling of his calloused fingertips. “I guess then you won’t mind if I play some of my own?”

Steve’s game was not as fun as yours, in fact, you could safely say it was anything but fun to be edged for hours on end. All office work was cancelled for the day and given to Sam and Natasha to do as Steve had Bucky hold your hands on the table, your dress ripped from your body as his face between your legs, then his fingers, then his cock. Each stroke, thrust, and lick had you whimpering and begging for more but Steve would always pause, letting the pleasure feelings disperse before starting again.

It got to the point where you were crying and shaking for him to let you cum, repeatedly apologising for teasing him but he just continued until you were so overstimulated that he stopped altogether. You were in Bucky’s arms, his strong hands under your legs to keep you upright as Steve was pumping his cock into you when he finally decided that you’d had enough.

Stroking away the sea of tears dripping down your cheeks, Steve carefully lifted your face more towards him, “I love you”, you said without needing any prompting, pouting out your lips to get him to kiss you.

“I love you too, you’ve done so well for me, Honey”, he kissed your lips slowly, moaning into it and then began to provide aftercare, taking you from Bucky, cleaning your body of the sweat and juices, making sure you had a glass of water and a little snack before dressing again and preparing to go home.

[sillylittlestoryblog]

(Not) Hard to Love

( Part 1 of 2 )

Trafalgar Law x Reader

Warning: ⚠️ reader has self love issues, angst, some suggestive thoughts, not a native English speaker here :)

Authors notes: I have read your comments about writing a part 3 to Keeping me warm, i hadn’t really planed it as a series, so if you have a suggestion how the story should end, I would love to hear your thoughts.

I know this story isn’t that much different. But I am just living for that angsty pining shit. 😗✌🏻this will have a part two and it will follow soon. Anyways have fun. Feel free to comment your thoughts. And remember nice words are good for everybody’s mental health. ;)

"You're staring again"

Robin's words snapped you out of your thoughts. The dark-haired girl was sitting next to you on a sun lounger. There was an open book on her lap. She giggled.

" what?! No. I'm not!"

"Are you sure? You seem to be quite fascinated by him"

She held her sunglasses up for a moment so that you could see her eyes. She winked before putting the sunglasses back on her nose. She grinned and looked happily towards the sun.

It was a hot midday on the Thousand Sunny. Chopper and Luffy were playing a mixture of catch and hide-and-seek, with Luffy usually winning.

Zoro was snoring on deck, his swords always beside his sleeping body.

Usopp and Franky repaired small things on the Sunny and Sanji prepared a few refreshing drinks. While Brook was singing to himself somewhere.

Nami, Robin and you were sunbathing on the main deck. At least that was Nami's plan. Robin had gone along to do some reading. And you had mainly agreed to it for a very specific reason.

Normally your friends would have been reason enough, but the drastic heat was anything but pleasant.

If it hadn't been for this one reason, you would have gone somewhere in the shade long ago, preferably to Sanji in the kitchen or to the girls' room. Somewhere where you could best escape the sun.

But your reason for staying out on deck hadn't really moved for two hours. He was sitting at a small table with a parasol, a few sheets of paper and books spread out in front of him. Immersed in his work.

He was sitting far enough away not to be disturbed by Chopper and Luffy's games.

Trafalgar Law had been on board the Sunny for a few weeks now. Being part of the Strawhat crew again, even if only for a short time, was really getting to him. Groaning, he stretched his body, which was already a little sore from the uncomfortable posture. He really should take breaks from studying more often.

He walked briskly towards the kitchen. As a good doctor, he knew how important it was to drink water regularly, especially in these temperatures.

" and do you like what you see?"

" huh?!"

Once again, your mind wandered. For a brief moment, you wish you could take photos with your eyes. Just save certain moments in your mind forever. And return again and again to study them in detail.

That's all it was. You wanted to know what his deal was. Although you had already had several conversations with him, and in your opinion always with friendly intentions, he had managed to make you feel terrible every time.

Almost every conversation had degenerated too quickly. You could hardly believe how stubborn someone could be. And your captain was Luffy.

So you definitely knew your way around stubborn men. But Law was different. He was cold and grim and always wanted to be right.

You were annoyed by him from day one. Annoyed because this handsome, strong pirate was making you feel things. And that completely destroyed your former inner harmony.

There were either constant arguments or harsh silence between you. Sometimes he ignored you for days. At first you didn’t understand why he stayed with your crew, if he hated it so much.

But every now and then you could see a different side to him. How he talked caringly to Chopper about medication, how he complimented Sanji's cooking, how he gave Robin a brief smile after she had shown him her newest book collection in the library.

But these little moments were never with you. Every interaction between you and him was a disaster. He was grumpy, stressed and strict. So most times he just gave you a weird glance or turned the other way when he saw you walking towards him.

At least you had tried. But ever since Law decided to treat you differently from the other crew members and set out to make your life a living hell, you didn't want to be the friendly one either. You were sure, he didn’t have a problem with the rest of the crew. His problem was you.

But the heat was getting to everyone, and with such temperatures you can shortly forget the real problems.

Especially after Law had gotten rid of his long coat and overly thick sweater. Even his hat, which he usually wears, had been laying on the table next to his medicine and history books for almost half an hour.

And law without all that, was definitely interesting enough to briefly forget what the real problem was.

Tattoos on his upper and lower arms, his dark hair crushed and disheveled from wearing his hat. And his warm eyes that were now really visible for the first time.

"Robin! ... Why is he like that?"

" like what, y/n?"

" like so... so... so arghhhhh..., annoying ?! Angry? Attractive?!" You sighed and put your hands before your face. Not wanting even more people to see your blushing face.

Robin grinned again and took the book off her lap.

" so you do fancy him. Nami and I were right. ... hey Usopp! You owe me 50 berry!"

"Oh no. You did a bet on me ?!"

You loved Robin. She was the most beautiful, intelligent and loving woman you knew. But sometimes you were a tiny bit mad at her for knowing you so well. You couldn’t keep any secret from her. This woman had all the wisdom of the world (+ the gossip on the sunny ) in her head.

" I just don't get why someone who has that gorgeous hair and pretty smile, is such an asshole."

" Law isn't that terrible, Y/N. I told you he's just shy around new people. He'll make friends with you sooner than you know, I'm sure of it. And I don't think he hates you. He just doesn't know how to talk to you yet."

"Yeah, but he can't really get to know me and be my „ friend“, if he always leaves the room when I walk in.... I just want to know why he won't at least try to be friendly to me.

I mean, we have a lot in common. And I was really nice to him on his first day here. I showed him around the ship and even made him fresh juice from Nami’s trees and prepared his room. And all I got was a grumpy face and not a single comment.

And I just don’t know what is wrong with me?! He likes you guys, and he is so kind to Chopper." A sad frown making its way onto your face.

„sounds like you are jealous.“

Nami hadn’t really participated in the conversation yet. But she just enjoyed teasing you too much.

„ ahhh… just shut up, Nami.“

Now hiding your entire body under the beach towel you had brought with you.

You sigh after rolling your eyes for a moment. This wasn’t helping. You would have to find out what exactly his problem with you was.

Later that day, you helped Sanji in the kitchen. You were preparing some muffins for after dinner.

" Hey, can I ask you something?"

" Sure thing, honey. What's on your mind?"

Nervously, you bite your lip. Should you really ask Sanji for help? He certainly wasn't your first choice, but you felt you had to talk to a man. And the other men on board wouldn't be much help either.

„ but of course you are! You are incredibly beautiful and as pretty as a glowing nightsky or a bouquet of expensive flowers.“

Sanji was dancing around you with hearts in his eyes. Making weird noises while twirling like a ballerina.

That’s exactly why you were nervous. Surly Sanji wasn’t the right one to talk about this. But you at least had to try and find out what was wrong with you.

„ but like… do you like my personality too?“

„ yes of course sweetheart, you are the kindest, sweetest and most loving creature to ever bless my eyes.“

„and do you think that the others think so too? That I m helpful ? And kind ? And have a purpose on this ship?“

Sanji stopped dancing and looked at you seriously. „ why are you doubting yourself so much Y/N ? Of course the others think so too. You are part of our Nakama. What makes you think that way? „

Sanji stepped behind you and wrapping his arm around you. „Did the stupid Marimo say something again? I told you not to listen to the shit he says.“

You sat down on one of the chairs next to the kitchen table.

You immediately felt your chest tighten. You didn't want to cry. You really didn't. But the whole thing bothered you more than you initially thought.

"I just don't understand what I did wrong. I was only ever friendly and did everything I could to make him like me. But he hates me and I don't know why."

You sat uncomfortably on the chair with your legs drawn up. Sanji had never seen you so irritated.

" hey hey. It's all good, y/n. Who are you talking about?"

" The fucking Doctor, of course..."

Sanji smirked. He had almost suspected that. He had seen how you kept looking after the dark-haired man after he had ignored you and quickly left the room.

" I just don't get it! Why does he hate me? I've really tried everything, but he won't even look at me when I talk to him.

I've been asking myself for days... am I so ugly that he can't even bear to look at me? Is there really nothing to like about me?“

Hot tears started falling. Your flushed cheeks covered with them.

You didn't deserve all this attention you were hoping for. There was a reason nobody loved you. Something must be wrong with you. Something everybody probably knew, but was too afraid to tell you.

Were you this hard to love ? Why did you have to be so interested in this dude anyway?! Oh yeah, he was gorgeous to look at, intelligent like no other and had seen more of the world than you could ever dream of. Of course you had a stupid crush on him. But for him, you were only air. Or maybe something worse.

Sanji didn’t know if he should laugh or cry with you. He couldn’t believe how stupid you were. Almost as stupid as his captain and the dumb green haired swordsman.

„ y/n hey. Calm down. It’s okay. Nobody hates you. Shhh.“

His arms wrapped around you and held you in a tight embrace.

He almost chuckled thinking about what happend just a few hours before.

Law couldn’t take it anymore. The weather was already killing him. But seeing you in just your short bikini, laying just a few feet from him in the glistening sun. That was clearly to much.

He frowned under his breath. What a cruel joke. Almost as if his crew was behind an evil prank. Watching him, suffering all by himself.

He knew he was fucked the moment he saw you for the first time. He was just saying goodbye to his crew, when he spotted the newest crew member on deck. You were holding Chopper up like a toddler. Making sure he wasn’t gonna fall overboard, while still being able to see the other pirate ship.

Law had looked at you far to long for his liking. Your hair floating around you in the sea wind. And your bright smile lighting up his entire mood. You were mesmerizing.

How did Strawhat-ya always find these people? Law was almost jealous. Even tho he knew he wouldn’t be able to have a woman like you on his crew. It would never work out.

Looking up from his textbook he noticed you watching him again. In some wild fantasy in his head, he would wink at you now.

But Law was a serious man. He had things to do. And he couldn’t get distracted. Even tho the sight before him was definitely something he couldn’t forget in a while, he knew it wouldn’t be good if he was gonna stay sitting at this place. His mind was already wandering to very different places.

This wasn’t good.

Law exhaled and got up. He picked up the textbook before him and went inside. The kitchen wasn’t nearly as hot as the outside and definitely not as distracting.

The blonde cook was standing next to the stove preparing something that looked like dinner.

„ Hey. Is it okay if I sit here for a while?“

The cook turned around and gave him a kind smile.

„ sure. I don’t mind. Was it to hot for you outside?“

„ something like that.“ Law muttered, wishing he wouldn’t have noticed how the sentence had a double meaning. Ignoring Sanjis knowing grin he pretended to already be occupied with his book again.

During the afternoon, some crew members came by the kitchen. Law remained quietly seated at the table, absorbed in his studies.

Even when Nami and Robin entered the kitchen together, still dressed only in their bathing suits, Law did not look up from his work. There was no reaction to be seen on his face.

The others had been observing this behavior for a while. And Sanji was pretty sure by now.

His expression was mostly relaxed or thoughtful. Busy with his work. But that could change abruptly. Because Law showed some other forms of reaction as soon as you entered the room.

You had fallen asleep in the afternoon sun and after finding the deck empty, the first thing you did was head for the kitchen. A glass of water was now your only salvation.

Sanji saw you climb the stairs to the kitchen. And even though he would have liked to continue looking out of the window, enchanted by your face, he had more important things to do. His gaze darted back to the Surgeon of Death as inconspicuously as possible.

When you entered the room, he had already given himself away. Law's face was strangely tense. His eyes stared as unnaturally as Sanji had ever seen them, at the sheet of paper in front of him.

Bingo.

Sanji knew exactly what was going on.

Only when y/n turned to Sanji did Law look up from his book.

Law had to swallow. The view in front of him made him freeze for a moment. His mind going absolutely blank.

The next time Sanji turned his gaze to Law, he held his hand in front of his nose. He rushed out of the kitchen with a bright red head.

Sanji couldn't help but grin. So he had been right all along.

Nami, Robin and Sanji whispered through the night. Their captain laying and snoring between them. Luffy had initially been very excited about this secret meeting. But after he had found out that it was only about you and Law, he had fallen asleep from boredom.

"Haha, I knew it." Nami was beaming from ear to ear.

"Usopp doesn't stand a chance. I'll be rich tomorrow!!!"

"Oh Nami love, it can't just be all about money for you, can it? After all, it's about love, devotion and passion. Law is so attracted to Y/N that he can't even stand to be in the same room with her."

Sanji got heart eyes. "That's the most romantic thing I've ever witnessed. Oh to be in lovee..."

Robin giggled. "So what exactly are we going to do now?“

„ We have to get them to confess to each other !!“ Nami hushed to her friends „and not just for the money“ she added while holding her hands up in the air. Signaling a promise.

„ Maybe we could set up a romantic date for the two of them. I could cook their favorite meals and“ Sanjis lovestruck face suddenly changed into a dark frown.

„ Watch over them, because if Traffy tries to hurt my dear Y/Ns feelings I will kill him.“

„ Oh we shouldn’t do that Sanji, it would be more than stupid to do that. If he hurts her I will simply give him to the marines. At least we could make a profit like that.“ Nami was grinning proudly at her plan.

„ My dear friends, I don’t think that’s gonna happen. Let’s see, Franky said that he didn’t have time yet to repair the door to our storage room yet… let’s say for some unknown reason he doesn’t repair it until in a few days? I m sure there is enough other work around the sunny!“

„ What are you suggesting Robin, Dear?“

The dark haired woman placed her chin on her hand, grinning into the blonde cooks face with a mischievous look in her eyes.

„ You’ll see Sanji. You’ll see.“

[vhstown]

miles away

— 1610!miles morales x gn!reader

summary: Long distance is hard — even more so when your boyfriend's mom is Rio Morales.

warnings: fluff, spanish that is hopefully right??? (pls feel free to correct if not)

word count: 2k

a/n: worst eboy known to man. another miles one-shot i thought of way too late at night lmao my boy miles is STRUGGLING somewhat edited

convention boy is online.

Miles was active: the cute boy you'd met at a Brooklyn science con last year and had been talking to for the past few months — your boyfriend? He might as well be, if it weren't for the absurd distance between you two. You almost missed the call icon with how fast you tapped it, buzzing with anticipation at the thought of speaking to him again; you hadn't talked properly in so long you almost thought he changed numbers.

Riiiiiing... Riiiiiing...

You stared at your own reflection, which was frowning back at you as the call rang for longer than usual. "Convention boy" (you'd definitely have to change that soon) was probably just busy, but your day had been infinitely boring, and you really wanted to talk to him. The both of you had chatted pretty much every day after you left Brooklyn, and despite the time difference, your calls went on for hours, making conversation about school, art, the science convention you were both forced to go to, how you almost got run over for the hundredth time — nothing and everything.

Miles probably knew more about you than your actual friends. You had jokes that nobody would be able to understand even if you tried explaining them, thousands pictures saved of each other, lots of random games you played together (that you always seemed to win somehow) and so many messages where you were flirting like you were in a middle school relationship; embarrassment was a foreign concept in your chat logs. The only thing you didn't have was... Miles himself.

He was in Brooklyn, probably the most exciting place right now. Maybe it was for the fact that Brooklyn had Spider-Man, or you were getting sick of living with your parents. Either way, you were glad you were getting out of here soon; your parents hadn't told you much, but you knew you were going to New York for school. That meant you'd be closer to Miles. Maybe you could even meet up — if Miles picked up, that is.

Beep, beep, beep!

The line went dead, and you were left staring at your own string of messages. They were read, but there was no response; he was ignoring you. Did he just... give up on you, or something? Was he no longer interested? Surely not... Should you try calling again?

He was offline now, and you flopped on your bed with a groan. It had been a whole week since you'd even texted — surely he'd let you know if something was up? It was late in New York right now, but that hadn't stopped him before. Maybe you'd try again tomorrow; he couldn't be available for you all the time.

That didn't stop you from being petty, though.

Missed voice call at 10:29PM

k Read 10:31PM

You gritted your teeth when you saw that it had been read, stopping yourself from typing another text as you rolled on your side, throwing your phone out of sight. Maybe you should ghost him — okay, you were definitely just being petty. He could still have a reason for being radio silent for so long that you just didn't know about.

The lack of his voice or even just a "hey" made you miss him, though, and the pillow you held just made your arms feel more empty than usual. You were being a little unreasonable, but you hadn't exactly had the best week. Maybe you should leave his contact name as it was, because right now it seemed like he didn't want to be anything more than some kid you met at a convention. And you thought he was supposed to be your boyfriend—

Bzzzzzt! Bzzzzzt! You reached for your phone, a preview of your own face coming up on screen. "convention boy" — he was video calling you? That was weird; as much as you did video call, he was always reluctant to turn his camera on, and he never started them. He was always "on a run" or on low battery or something; maybe he wasn't today? You realised you'd been staring at your own face for too long, scrambling to fix yourself up a little and accept the call before you missed it.

Miles' face appeared on screen; he had his headphones on, brows drawn together and eyes fixed somewhere else for a moment, before he looked back at his phone. He gave you the tiniest wave and that wonky smile that always made your stomach flip.

"Hey," you muttered, hating the fact that you probably didn't sound as mad as you wanted to be. "What's up with you? You okay?"

Miles just nodded silently, giving you another smile that looked more like a grimace before glancing off to the side again. Weird.

"...Are you sure?" you asked again, raising an eyebrow at him. Whatever Miles was trying to convince you of was completely thrown out the window, his lips pressing together in debate before he mouthed something. You couldn't make it out.

"Uh, what?" You squinted at the screen, your brows drew together even more in confusion.

"I'm GROUNDED," he mouthed again, his own brows raising to emphasise what he was trying to say. You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

"You're GROUNDED?" you mouthed back, trying to keep the teasing smile from spreading across your face.

It didn't help, Miles' eye twitching a little in embarrassment as he mouthed back "YES!"

"So you're like, grounded grounded?" you continued to mouth, making Miles narrow his eyes at you. "Like, actually grounded?"

He didn't seem to entertain your mockery, just crossing his arms at you and moving away on his chair. His phone appeared to be propped up on his desk, and you caught a glimpse of his textbooks in the corner.

You gave up, rolling your eyes. "Fine, fine, but you can't like, speak at all?"

He shook his head, before you heard his door creaking open. The camera immediately went black as he shoved his phone underneath the textbooks before you had a chance to say anything.

"Mijo, what are you still doing up?" You could recognise the voice as his mom's. Oh boy.

"Uh, just studyin', ma." You could tell he was lying by the way he was speaking, but you stayed silent despite his headphones, hoping his mother didn't catch on.

"You better be studying Español, then." Miles laughed awkwardly in response, but you couldn't tell if it was a joke or a threat. He'd only ever referred to you as a "friend" to his mom, so you turned off your camera just in case, hoping Miles had some God to pray to in the mean time.

"Yeah, uh, estoy estudiado—"

"Estudiando", she corrected, with rapid execution. You decided she was scarier in Spanish, and Miles seemed to as well, murmuring something in apology you couldn't catch.

You decided to look through your notifications while Miles was keeping his mom at bay to see that he actually had texted you back after you sent that very creative message.

sry im grounded

i dint mean 2 ingore u

dnt be mad pls :(

He must've resorted to calling you. At least your pettiness had worked.

"Estoy estudiando..." (I'm studying...) you heard Miles continue carefully. "And tired, so I'll go to bed soon."

"That light better be off, niño," (boy) she replied, and you heard the door faintly creak again. A few moments passed before you heard Miles' chair move and the door very quietly shutting all the way before he retrieved his phone and looked down at it from his lap. You had no idea what on Earth Miles had done to get grounded, but the way his mom spoke to him and the worried expression he was wearing right now didn't tell you anything good.

Miles looked back at his door for a second longer before picking up his phone, hesitantly preparing to say something. If it weren't for your own tension, you would've probably laughed at the way his face looked from that angle.

"Why's your camera off?" you heard him whisper, his worried expression still stuck in place.

"Do you really need to see my face?" You decided to tease anyway, despite his predicament, getting a sigh out of him.

"Ba—" He winced as he caught himself, eyes automatically trailing to his door again. Miles was lucky he couldn't see your amused grin. Baby? Babe? Hopefully not basta—

"Please?" he mouthed, almost looking hurt.

You turned your camera on so quickly it was almost embarrassing. You also prayed it was dark enough for him not to see the blush burning away at your cheeks; you just couldn't say no when he looked at you like that.

"Thank you," he nearly whispered. He let out another breath, shaking his head and smiling before mouthing something you couldn't make out.

"Huh?" you asked way too many times as he tried to mumble it a little louder. Both of you were too stubborn to end the call, so it was like playing charades, but with someone who really sucked at charades. He was pointing to his face, and then at you, and then trying to draw it out in the air.

"Just text me," you sighed, letting out a slight chuckle at his defeated expression.

you look cute

Your stomach flipped, cheeks tingling with warmth again as you stared at the text message for far too long, almost forgetting Miles was in the corner of your screen.

"...Thanks, you too," you mumbled out, hoping you didn't sound too weird over the call. "You sure you don't wanna just text...?"

na

wnt2 see ur face

n hear u speak

A part of you wanted to decline right now out of sheer self respect; you were so hot in the face by his... simple words that the darkness of your room definitely couldn't hide how flustered you were.

"Fine," you murmured, trying to keep your eyes on the screen as he watched you. "Can't you at least try to text properly, though?"

Miles frowned, and you could hear the gentle tap of his fingers on the screen as another text followed.

tryin 2 keep up w u gimme a break

The two of you shared a smile before you talked for a bit through this awkward system. It was good enough for now; at least Miles didn't have to watch his back so often.

ur cute

"You already said that..."

cutie

"Dude." Miles seemed to forget you could see him, sporting the biggest, stupidest smile on his face as he scrambled to keep texting you.

dont call me dude

my pride

thought we were passed that

past*

convention boy is typing...

hol on gank is txting me

"Gank...?"

romm mmate

You decided to let it be, watching Miles' cheeks puff with air as he switched over to text his "romm mmate". It was taking a little long and you didn't want to start missing him when he was right in front of you (albeit just on your screen) so you decided to talk anyway.

"Uh, there's something I wanted to tell you," you started, and Miles' eyes flicked upwards for a second, kind of like if you were actually sat opposite him.

"I'm moving states soon — for school." He raised an eyebrow, the tapping of his fingers slowing down a little. "New York. I don't know where exactly, but I should be getting an email soon? I was thinking maybe we could like... meet."

Miles stopped texting entirely, eyes wide as a grin spread across his face.

"After you get uh, un-grounded."

The smile faded just as fast. His eyes fell in defeat, lips twisting awkwardly as he got back to texting "Gank".

"I haven't checked my emails in a while actually, let me see..."

You scrolled through your email— well, it was a shared email (an email you often deleted a lot of school-related stuff from.) An email you'd missed ages ago caught your eye; you assumed it was from the school you were supposed to go to, the sender titled "Ms. Weber."

"We would like you welcome you with open arms to our academy..." The email bored you with its formalities and packing list and many many flourished attachments. You didn't read through it properly — most likely because you didn't want to face the fact that you might actually miss your home here.

What caught your attention, though, was the school name; it was in Brooklyn. Miles was in Brooklyn.

"Miles — the school's in Brooklyn, that's even better!" You couldn't hide your giddy smile, Miles' eyebrows raising in interest as so many thoughts swirled through your head. You could actually meet up again. Maybe you could even go on dates that weren't to do with science conventions. Maybe you could actually be a couple.

Bzzt! Miles' text appeared at the top of your screen.

what school is it?

"Uh..." You paused, unintentionally dramatically as you checked the name again. "Brooklyn Visions Academy."

"WHAT?!"

Miles' mouth went agape as you saw him roll back on his chair, bringing his face towards the camera to look at you almost hysterically. You were about to ask why he was so taken aback before—

"¡MILES! ¡¿CON QUIÉN ESTÁS HABLANDO TAN TARDE?!" (WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO THIS LATE?!)

Maybe your meet-up would have to wait a little longer.

🕸️🔭🎧

omg this was ... longer than expected anyways i could not get this idea out of my head haha i wrote it partly for myself and my friend chewy (who helped me w the summary ily i suck at em) and now its for u! hope u enjoyed (also if the spanish is weird pls correct i literally take spanish as a subject but i suck)

reblogs appreciated as always i get so happy when ppl reblog lol <3 catch the rest of my atsv stuff here!

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 8

Hello! Thanks to WIP Wednesday I managed to finish a chapter of each of the stories so things are moving right a long with this story and the others. With any luck, I'll have Secret Tunnel (game show AU) finished by the time the weekend is over with. Fingers crossed.

In this Steve goes on a bit of a roller coaster of emotion. Also a bit of naughtiness in the middle, so 18+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

~

Steve put together the package he had be planning after he ate his burger. It was no chili burger from Benny’s but it was really good. It had caramelized onions with a thousand island dressing on the bun which was some kind of fancy bread.

Now the fries, that was something to rave about. They were seasoned and deep fried. He had eaten almost all of them before he even touched the burger.

Then once he was done with the package, he went down to the front desk for them to mail it off. Now he was at loose ends again. He could go back up to his room, but he really didn’t want to.

It had only been three days since he got kicked out and he was bored. So he looked around the lobby for inspiration. Then he spotted a discarded newspaper. Probably someone who wanted to read the financial stuff and found their stocks had tanked.

That was what his dad did every day. He didn’t understand it anyway. You were paying for nothing. Even when things were really good, you didn’t want to sell your shares because things might get better. But if the stock drops than you’ve lost money. It was gambling in the worst sort of way.

But he picked it up and began flipping through the pages, looking for the movie listings. When he found them he looked through the ads to see if there was anything good. Which there wasn’t.

With a sigh, Steve put the paper down. He chewed on his nails for a moment or two. Then he snapped his fingers. He’ll call Dustin. See if the kids wanted to go to the arcade. He had money to burn, so why not let the kids go nuts for a couple of hours.

He looked at his watch and then winced. Oops! Maybe that would be better for tomorrow as it was way later than he thought. But he could call Eddie.

That brought an instant smile to face and he dashed back upstairs. He walked into the room just as the phone began ringing. His smile turned into a grin as he walked across the room. He picked up the phone and said, “Hello!”

“You sound happy, little Canary,” Eddie purred. “You have a good day?”

Steve laughed and kicked his feet. “Much better now that I’m talking to you. I sent off your surprise and it should get to you by the time you get to LA.”

“Aww, baby,” Eddie said. “I can’t wait.” He paused for a moment. “I wanted to apologize to you about Chrissy. She was fucking rude to you and I chewed her out for it.”

Steve blinked for a moment. What now? He was used to people being rude and dismissive to him. No one ever apologized for that. “You did?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Eddie said sternly. “I did. She thought that this little arrangement of ours was going to be temporary, but when I told her I had paid for the room for six months, she was very upset. She told me I couldn’t just throw money around like that. That’s when I told her about my little presents for you. Then she really hit the fan.”

“Oh,” he murmured. “I don’t want to cause you trouble with your management, but I–I don’t have anywhere else to go. My dad is still out there trying to make my life difficult.” His bottom lip began to shake.

“But don’t worry a thing, pretty bird,” Eddie cooed. “I got her sorted out and now she understands how important this is for me and somehow my impassioned speech managed to sway my bandmates too. I don’t think they knew how bad things had gotten for you.”

“What–what did you tell them?” Steve asked softly, his voice beginning to break.

“Nothing that they didn’t already know,” Eddie soothed. “I just made it as dire as possible so that they got the message loud and clear.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged in relief. That–that he could handle. Because as much as he wanted to shrug this off and pretend he didn’t need or want help, the truth was that he did need Eddie’s help and if getting that help meant getting all of Corroded Coffin on board and their manager, too then that’s what Steve would have to accept that.

“I really appreciate this,” he murmured. “I knew my dad was going to make trouble. I just didn’t think he’d go this far. To make sure I didn’t have anything but my car and my clothes.”

“I know, little Canary,” Eddie said, “just put your trust in me and I’ll take care of you. Okay?”

“Okay, Eddie,” Steve breathed. “I owe you so much and I don’t know how I can pay you back.”

“You don’t owe me anything, I’m just happy to be able to help you.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. He closed his eyes as tears began to well. He was just so overwhelmed from the kindness of a stranger that he was about to start bawling right there on the phone. A hiccuping sob escaped his lips and then it was like the floodgates had opened. He just sobbed and sobbed. No one had ever been this kind to him before.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed. “I wish I could be there to hold you. So this will just have to do.” And then he started singing softly. It was gentle and slow and spoke of having a safe place to land.

Slowly his sobs slackened and he gave a final hiccup. “That was beautiful. Did you write it?”

“Sure did,” Eddie said proudly. “First song I ever wrote in fact. Wrote it the night the court awarded permanent custody of me to my Uncle Wayne. I knew from that moment on that my dad couldn’t come back and hurt me again.”

Steve rolled over onto his belly with a sigh. “That must have felt so good. Having someone you trusted to step up and take care of you.”

“He’s a good man,” Eddie agreed warmly. “And this is me paying that kindness forward to you, little Canary.”

Steve let out a small shuddering breath, letting the knot in his chest loosen. “So tell me about your concert tonight,” he said. “Where were you playing again?”

Eddie made a small huff of laughter. “We were in Texas tonight...”

Steve let Eddie’s warm voice wash over him.

“You feeling sleepy, my little Canary?” Eddie murmured after awhile.

He let out a little sleepy snuffle. “No.”

Eddie chuckled. “If you say so sweetheart.” And he continued to talk until the snuffles became a soft sonorous snore.

“Good night, Stevie.”

~

Steve woke up to the dial tone in his ear again. He moaned as he rolled over on his back and ran his fingers through his hair.

He needed to stop falling asleep to the musician’s voice. It was really becoming a problem. It always made him wake up hard as a fucking rock. He picked up the phone and put back in its cradle. He flopped back on the bed. He lifted the covered to glare at his aching erection.

He palmed his cock in an attempt to get it go to down. But instead it made it worse. He pushed down harder, but his own roughness made him moan. He could feel the outline of cock as it throbbed against his hip.

He hadn’t gone this long without at least rubbing himself off since he was a stupid freshman. He knew he should wait until he was in the shower, but the walk would be so fucking painful. Steve threw off the covers and then shoved the front of his shorts down to free his cock. He then slowly unbuttoned his sleep shirt. Rubbing his nipples and stroking his chest to get himself really riled up.

If he was going to this, he was going to wring out as pleasure out of this as he possibly could. He lifted his hips and slid the shorts off as slow as he could.

He brought his hands back up his legs, his thighs spreading as his palms cupped his cock. It was leaking at the tip and he dragged his thumb over his slit, smearing it across the glans. He moaned again. This time louder. That felt so good. He did it again, going the other direction. Slow and rough.

He imagined Eddie watching him. Directing his every move. How hard he should pull. How rough he should get.

The way he came hard and long was a testament to Eddie’s raw sexual power, and Steve’s vivid imagination. He grabbed a couple of tissues from the tissue box next to the bed and cleaned himself up the best he could.

Then he shucked off the top and waddled into the shower, tossing the tissues on his way.

~

It was a little bit before noon by the time Steve got to call Dustin.

“Steve!” Dustin greeted warmly. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“What are you dorks up to today?” he asked bluntly.

“I don’t know,” Dustin whined. “I don’t think we really have any plans. At least not together.”

“Call up the goon squad and find out,” Steve said. “And then call me back.”

Steve could feel the kid’s skepticism through the phoneline as he thought about it. “Yeah. Fine. I’ll call you back.”

Just before he hung up, Dustin bit out. “We call ourselves The Party, Steve. Not the goon squad.”

“You call yourselves the party Steve?” he murmured. “That’s so sweet of you–”

There was a click and a dial tone. Steve grinned at the receiver before putting it down on the cradle. He threw open his wardrobe and started shifting through his new clothes. He was going somewhere with a lot of kids and soda and greasy pizza, so nothing too fancy.

Not finding anything fit the bill, he went through his drawers. He decided on a nice pair of jeans and a dark blue tanktop with a black short sleeved button up over the top. He fixed his hair in the mirror and then pulled on his old sneakers. He didn’t want to get any of his new shoes sticky.

He had run his fingers through his hair one more time when the phone rang.

“Hello!” he greeted.

“Well, hello to you too little Canary,” the warm velvet voice sounded through phone. “You sound happy today.”

Steve’s gut felt like warm chocolate had pooled there. “Hi-ya, Eddie.”

“I was just calling to tell you that I’ll be out of rang cell phone wise and so you won’t be able to call me until I get to Arizona tomorrow.”

“Awww...” Steve huffed. “Way to make me sad.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie purred. “I just wanted to make sure you knew, so that I didn’t think I was avoiding you.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips. “Thanks for that.”

“Have a good day, okay?” Eddie said.

“I’ll try!” Steve chirped back.

He barely hung up the phone before it rang again, his hand never leaving the receiver. “Hey.”

“Steve!” Dustin cried. “I tried to call you but your line was busy!”

Steve let out a long slow sigh. “Other people do call me, Dusty. Like the guy who’s paying for all this?”

Dustin huffed. “Well if you would just tell me who he is, maybe I would be more forgiving...”

“Ain’t gonna happen, Dusty,” Steve bit out. “I don’t want it getting back to my dad who it is. And before you tell me you’ll never tell. You’ll say something when you think no one is around and someone will hear you. Until my dad gives up his little Crusade, I ain’t tell you shit.”

“Come on, Steve...” Dustin begged.

“I was going to take everyone to the arcade today but if you’re going to keep hounding me about it, maybe I won’t.”

The line went silent.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Dustin murmured. “I just want to make sure he’s a good guy and not taking advantage you.”

Steve let out a breath through his nostrils and closed his eyes tightly. “He isn’t even in Hawkins right now and I don’t know when he’ll be back, okay?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Okay.”

Then he held the phone away from his ear.

Wait for it.

Wait…for…it.

“You want to take everyone to the arcade?!” Dustin screamed.

“Sure do, bud,” Steve said once it was safe to do so.

“I can’t wait to tell everyone!” Dustin screeched. “When? What time are you come over? Details please!”

Steve worked out all the details and sorted out rides. When they finally hang up, Steve positively beaming.

Eddie was paying forward the kindness his uncle gave to him to Steve. And Steve was paying it forward to his kids. And that left a warm feeling in his chest like nothing else could.

~

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[giveafike]

omg ty that was sooo cute n well written 🥲 what about they’ve been dating for a little while n she’s got a great game but she gets stuck on her serve sometimes, so ben teaches her his technique and then she wins her next match - then i’ll leave u alone promise 😂

TLDR: Part 2 from Game, Set, Match (here if you haven't read the first part) Tennisplayer!fem reader x Ben Shelton LAUNCHING each other, triple date, overcoming insecurity and learning with each other <33.

EDIT: part 3 here!

Word count + info: 7.1k! SUPERRRR LONG!!! Dialogue, instagram comments etc.

Character Inspo: Once again, for tennisplayer!fem reader, I envisioned a bit of a bratty, sassy, cheeky, funny girl. In this, she gets vulnerable tho. Visually, I gravitated towards a mix of Tashi Duncan and Tyla. No specifications are mentioned (except a general "shorter" height than Ben).

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW (suggestive themes - nothing explicit/ NSFW) - no warnings

Azzie Notes ✚: heheheehee I'll blush! ask as many times you want! trust me there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing than writing my little fake scenarios and daydreaming <3 In saying that, I’m begging for my desi women to request a desi imagine 😞 Please, please give me some inspo so I can get into my element.

The support and attention pt. 1 got was genuinely so heartwarming, seeing the couple of reblogs and tags and comments meant sm to me, massive thank you for your support <333 kisses to all of u!!

————————————————————————

Game, Set, Match (Part 2) - B.T.S

Time with Ben flew by in a blur of stolen moments after your first date, before you knew it, it had been close to a year since you first started dating. Between matches and games, you both rearranged photoshoots and postponed interviews just for the chance to spend even a few hours together, sneaking in time wherever possible. Naturally, speculation followed. Paparazzi snapped glimpses of you at gas stations, and fans posted short, blurry videos on TikTok and Twitter of your late-night drives. One clip even sparked rumours of lipstick stains on Ben’s face while driving, barely visible in the shadows. What they missed were the hickeys trailing down his neck, hidden beneath his crumpled t-shirt, evidence of the stolen moments just before. You both laughed at the videos and sometimes interacted, keeping everyone on the outside guessing.

Truthfully, you wanted to savour this feeling for yourself a little longer before it became the latest headline. You had travelled the world, met some of your heroes, performed in front of thousands but nothing felt as exhilarating as this.

You felt young, carefree, and most importantly, yourself. With Ben, there were no PR restrictions, no expectations, just the thrill of being together. Running through hotel halls at midnight, sneaking off for food at ungodly hours like two big backs, lying down in closed parks whispering sweet nothings under the stars; it all felt so raw, so pure. You were smitten with puppy love for each other. You’d take long, aimless drives, rapping and singing bar for bar, holding hands while the world outside blurred by. With Ben, life felt like one endless adventure. You had broken the news to your close circles of friends and family, but not anyone outside. The hardest part though was resisting PDA at public games and events. You almost slipped up during an interview, calling him your 'boyfriend' before catching yourself, covering with 'boy-best-friend' and a sweet smile. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but not quite the truth either. You knew sooner or later, you’d have to make it official and that idea was both exciting and terrifying.

After some plotting, you decided on a soft launch first, acclimatising your audience to it. You and your team were pros at staying active online, and it fit perfectly with your social media presence. For TikTok and Instagram Reels, you posted a 'Day in the Life' vlog - clips of your skincare routine, a fit-check featuring a white, sleeveless high-neck tennis dress with forest green accents that cinched your waist, and a casual lunch. But for those paying close attention, there were clues, Ben’s cologne on the bathroom counter, his duffel bag in the background, his laugh echoing faintly in the background during lunch. Of course, some people picked it up after some time.

Ben couldn’t resist teasing either, replying under a clip of your lunch, 'Who’s taking you on a lunch date?'

You shot back, 'A big-backed loser who ate his own food and then stole from my plate .'

One fan commented, 'Wait, is that Ben’s gym bag in the shot?!?!' to which you cheekily replied, 'Where? that ugly, uninspired black bag?' Ben couldn’t resist adding: "That bag has seen more wins than your TikTok views."

Another comment pointed out the Polo 67 cologne in the background: 'That’s definitely not your scent, Y/N. Whose cologne is that?' You replied, 'Some desperate fanboy left it here. Sweet guy tho ig."

The playful back-and-forth only fueled more speculation, with fans buzzing, 'Wait, is this a soft launch!!', 'I'm tellin' yall, it's Ben', "Am I reaching or is Y/N pulling smth here? collab?"

You both laughed, curled up in bed, scrolling through the comments like a pair of idiots. Two weeks later, it was time for the hard launch.

Ben stifled a laugh as he leaned back on the bed, the duvet lazily draped across his hips. "Y/N, stop overthinking it," he teased, leaning over to plant a kiss on your forehead. Meanwhile, you sat cross-legged, agonising over which photos to post, what caption to use, and whether or not the launch would feel and look perfect; not nonchalant but not too much either. He made it look easy, Ben had his post prepped and ready to go like the sappy man he was, while you were knee-deep in hundreds of photos, searching for the right one to tell your story.

You scrolled through the shots, a smile tugging at your lips as you relive the memories, silly videos, 0.5x candids, live photos of him in goofy poses. Then, one image stopped you. A simple photobooth strip from a date you’d gone on together: four black-and-white shots, each capturing a different moment. The first one had you both flipping the camera off with cheeky smiles, his arm over your shoulder. The next, Ben was kissing your cheek, while in the third, you kissed his, making him grin wide with his gummy smile, his eyes crinkling in joy. The last photo was pure gold. You kissed each other, his hands cupping your face gently, tucking your hair back as he held your jaw while your fingers curled around his shoulders as if you didn’t want to let go. Both of you smiled into the kiss, eyes closed, fully in the moment. It was perfect, effortless.

You sighed, knowing this was the photo. It said everything, no need for several pictures to make a statement. You thought for a moment before you typed out a simple caption that summed it up: "Turns out I'm not the only one with game, @benshelton"

Ben, sitting opposite you, smirked and was the first to comment followed by a few others.

benshelton: "I love you so very much"

yourfriendusername: " 'bout time y'all launched"

ayan.broomfield: "Oh you ate with the caption. Me and Frances are screaming rn"

"Nice caption, loser" he chuckled as he beckoned you over to him. You crawled over to Ben with a shy smile, curling up on his chest as his post was uploading.

Ben’s post was a blend of personal, fun, and a little bit cheeky, a video recorded by his sister, Emma of you two playing tug-of-war with his dog Halo at his house, giggling uncontrollably as the dog barked, tail wagging furiously. A candid photo of you leaning over into his side of the car, his smile half-hidden as he laughed from the driver seat, one hand on the wheel. Then a shot of you both in matching hoodies, his idea, of course, followed by a serene moment of you standing on a seaside cliff, both gazing out at the ocean during a quiet getaway. Lastly, a photo of you two kissing on a picnic blanket, your hand on his face, and his smile beaming into your kiss.

You looked up at him and kissed his cheek as the likes and comments came flooding in.

His caption read “Her biggest fan, my biggest distraction”.

taylorfritz: "So nice of Y/N to take pics with her fans. So humble"

↳ Y/N.Y/LN: "Always a pleasure, this one was a little weird tho"

↳ benshelton: "shut up"

francestiafoe: "Finally upgraded from being the 5th wheel to being in the driver’s seat."

↳ benshelton: "Been driving this whole time, you just didn’t notice"

_emmashelton: "Wow, Ben finally found someone to put up with his snoring???"

↳Y/N.Y/LN: "The snoring I can handle, but the random sleeptalking tennis commentary at 3 AM?"

↳benshelton: "💀 I’m deleting this post."

morganriddle: "No more babysitting you with Taylor now!"

atptour: "Ben’s doing better off the court than on lately 👀"

↳benshelton: "No distractions, just love. But thanks for the shade, ATP"

↳Y/N.Y/LN: "His best ATP title to date: my boyfriend <3"

As you typed your last reply, Ben set his phone aside and gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer until your body was flush against his. He kissed the top of your head before his lips began to trail softly down your temple. You tossed your phone to the other side of the bed, locking eyes with him. His curls were messier now, and the glint in his eyes told you exactly what he was thinking.

"Y’know..." Ben murmured, his voice dipping lower as he traced his fingers along the curve of your jaw, then down your neck, sending a shiver through you. His other hand slipped under your t-shirt, resting on your bare waist, his thumb making lazy circles on your skin. "We don’t have anything planned until later… and you look so damn good right now."

His lips grazed your neck, slow and deliberate, before pressing soft kisses there. You tilted your head to the side and swept your hair back, letting him have his way as your fingers tangled in his curls, a small gasp escaped your lips as he nipped lightly at your skin.

"Shouldn’t we… celebrate?" you whispered, your breath hitching as he found the spot that made you melt, his hands guiding your body closer to his. "I mean, we did make some big news."

Ben didn’t reply with words. Instead, he hummed softly against your neck before gently flipping you beneath him. His lips captured yours in a heated, intoxicating kiss, his hand sliding up your shirt, fingertips grazing your soft skin. Your bodies pressed together, the heat building as you giggled into the kiss, knowing exactly where this was headed.

The rest of the day went in a haze of cuddles, stolen kisses, and binge-watching your favourite shows and movies. By evening, it was time to get ready for your triple date with Taylor Fritz and Morgan Riddle, and Frances Tiafoe with Ayan Broomfield. While the guys had bonded at ATP events, you were still the "newbie" among the girls, though Ayan and Morgan had taken you under their wing almost immediately, forming a tight trio.

You slipped into something special for the evening, a stunning black satin dress that hugged your curves perfectly. The backless design draped elegantly, the slit at the thigh adding just the right amount of allure, and the low cut bringing even more drama to the fabric. The soft fabric shimmered slightly under the light which you paired with black stiletto heels and a slickback ponytail.

Ben couldn’t stop staring when you stepped out of the bathroom. He’d matched your elegance effortlessly, wearing a button-up, the top two buttons undone to reveal silver chains around his neck, and his silver Rolex twinkling in the light.

"Wow," he said softly, taking in the sight of you. His gaze lingered on the curve of your back, the way the dress dipped and shimmered. "You’re killing me, babe."

You smirked, stepping up to him and straightening his collar as you teased, "And you’re not looking too bad yourself"

Ben leaned down, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder, his lips warm against your skin. "I’d say we’re a pretty damn good match."

Arriving just a bit fashionably late (thanks to Ben’s lingering hands and his desperation) you entered the rooftop bar together. He had one hand securely around your waist, guiding you smoothly through the entrance, his hand holding yours as you walked up the stairs in your heels. The city lights twinkled around you, setting the perfect mood for the evening.

When you made it to the table, everyone was already waiting, Ayan and Morgan squealed in excitement the moment they saw you, rushing to hug you.

"You look amazing!" Ayan said, practically bouncing on her heels as she pulled you into a tight embrace.

Morgan stepped back to admire your outfit with a knowing smile. "How's Ben behaving?"

"Trust me, he's already a challenge," you replied feigning annoyance, earning a playful giggle from the two of them before they caught you up on recent gossip.

The boys, of course, couldn’t resist teasing Ben the moment he arrived. Taylor clapped him on the back while Frances laughed, giving him a knowing look.

"So... you finally made it official," Taylor teased, drawing out the word with a grin.

Frances grinned. "Big Ben’s had this all under control, right? Didn't need a little push from us? At all?" He threw a playful punch at Ben’s arm.

"Yeah, yeah," Ben said with an eye roll, but his smile betrayed him. "Now you guys can all stop making fun of me!"

Settling into your seats with Ben beside you, the night was filled with laughter and conversation, the six of you effortlessly clicking as a group. You could feel the warmth from Ayan and Morgan, who made you feel like you’d been part of their circle for ages. The easy, fun, teasing banter between everyone only made the night more fun, and as you sipped on cocktails and shared tapas, you couldn’t help but glance over at Ben every now and then, feeling the pull between you two all over again.

The table was lively as usual, laughter spilling over from one side to the next. Frances and Taylor had already made it a mission to tease Ben relentlessly.

“You know, I’m glad you’ve finally got a date,” Taylor said with a smirk, swirling his wine. “For a while, we were worried you were just gonna hang around like a lost puppy.”

Frances chimed in, throwing a playful arm around Ayan. “Yeah, man, it’s about time you stopped being the spare wheel. Now you’re in.”

Ben rolled his eyes but squeezed your hand. “You guys act like I was suffering. I’m pretty sure Y/N was worth the wait.”

Morgan chimed in. “Oh, don't worry Ben, we tease because we care. But seriously, you were giving big lone wolf, single energy for a while. It’s nice to see you two together. You’re like, the new ultimate power couple.”

Ayan nodded, glancing between you and Ben with a smile. “Seriously, though. We all knew it was only a matter of time. And I gotta say, Y/N, you bring out a whole new side of him.”

You laughed, raising a brow as you turned to Ben. “A new side? Should I be worried?”

Ben grinned, shaking his head. “Nothing you can’t handle, I promise.”

As the night continued, the conversation drifted between shared stories of travel, upcoming tournaments, and off-court gossip. Dinner had been fun, the usual banter between your friends, but that one offhanded comment had sucked the air right out of the room for you.

“So, Y/N,” Frances grinned, swirling his whiskey glass, “you ready for the Open? It’s gonna be tough seeing Navarro again after she got the best of you last time, huh?”

Your eyes went wide for a moment before you laughed it off, taking a small sip of your drink and brushing it aside as if it hadn’t landed as a smack with the weight of a brick. "It was just one match," you said, trying to sound nonchalant. But the words felt hollow in your mouth.

But inside, everything collapsed.

Navarro hadn’t just beaten you. She’d dismantled you. Something over the past few months felt like a mental block, like you were slowing down but this match? It didn't just slow you down, it blew you out of the water completely. Her aggressive baseline play came with heat, her ability to push you wide on every shot, forcing you to scramble and defend, and it all came rushing back. You could rewind the entire match all over again in your head, watching points fly from you. You had no answer to her consistency, her precision. And her serve, you could still feel the frustration of trying to return them, each one faster and sharper than the last. Your own serve had crumbled under the pressure, double fault after double fault.

What was worse was you remembered how the crowd had watched you, narrow-eyed, the press merciless afterwards, dissecting every moment of your failure. You’d walked onto the court that day full of confidence, only to be torn apart and exposed, your weaknesses on full display.

That match haunted you, but you hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell on it or process it. Instead, you buried it beneath a whirlwind of distractions; endless empty hours of practice, late nights out at clubs, and drinks flowing as you tried to drown the doubt. Social media posts curated to show your best self, brand deals, and sponsorships filling your time so you wouldn't have to confront the anxiety gnawing at the edges. You hid behind the glamour, the glitz, pretending the loss hadn’t rattled you completely to your core. But sitting here at the dinner table, with your friends blissfully unaware of the storm inside you, the weight of that memory clawed its way back up and sat in your throat heavy. Every buried doubt, every insecurity, came crashing down, no longer masked by the carefully crafted image.

You smiled through it all and nodded along with the conversation, but your mind was lost, rehashing every single moment.

The taxi ride back was quiet. Ben, ever observant, didn't take long to notice the shift in your mood. He reached for your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of it. "Hey, you alright?" he asked softly, his voice gentle, concern etched on his face.

You gave him a half-hearted smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. "Yeah, I’m fine," you replied, but the quiver in your voice betrayed you. You bit the inside of your cheek as you turned away, facing the low hum of the city through the window.

Ben wasn’t buying it. He squeezed your hand a little tighter, his voice steady and tender, with a small smile. "Come on, baby. Talk to me. What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

You hesitated, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. But Ben’s gaze never wavered, his eyes searching yours, not for the athlete, not for the public persona, but for you.

And just like that, the dam broke out from your lips.

“Ben... I—” You swallowed hard, your voice cracking under the weight of everything you’d been carrying. “That silly, stupid comment Taylor made about my last game, it just... It hit me harder than I thought-"

"Do you want me to get an apology?” he asked, his thumb brushing your chin, his expression caught between worry and protective anger.

You shook your head and sighed, shutting your eyes. "N-no, Ben. It's true, you know? I don’t feel like myself anymore. Tennis has always been who I am. And after that match against Navarro, well even a bit before that, everything just... fell apart. I don't even know who I am off the court.”

Ben turned toward you, his full attention on you now, his hands never leaving yours. He didn’t say anything, didn’t interrupt, he just let you speak, let the words spill out.

“I’ve always been so sure, so confident," you continued, your voice trembling. "I’d walk onto the court knowing I could beat anyone, or at least put up a good fight. I used to own that space. But then when it came to Navarro... she broke me. That match wasn’t just a loss. It was...embarrassing, humiliating. Every serve, every swing, it all felt wrong like my own body was betraying me. I could feel everyone watching me crumble.”

Your hands trembled as you spoke, your throat tightening, but Ben’s thumb never stopped its soothing circles on your knuckles. He was quiet, and patient, like he understood this moment wasn’t about fixing anything, it was about you finally letting it out, letting you be vulnerable and freeing your mind to him.

“I used to brush off bad days, but now... now I’m terrified. Every time I pick up my racket, I think about that match, how she exposed me, how I couldn’t handle it. I’m supposed to face her again, and I... I don’t know if I can do it.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you tilted your head back, trying not to lose it completely. "If I lose tennis, Ben... I think I'll lose myself. It’s not just a game for me. It’s everything. Without it, I don’t know who I am.” Your voice cracks into a soft whisper as your lip trembles.

Ben leaned in, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, and your nose, grounding you in the moment. His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “I love you, so, so, so much. And not because of what you’ve accomplished, or your ranking, not because of tennis, or your titles, not because of your brands or sponsors. I love you. The person who’s real and flawed and strong as hell, even when you don’t feel it. The girl that keeps me on my feet, leaves me wanting for more and makes me feel like I have the whole world in my hands. Because you are my whole world, you've become that for me. I’m grateful that you’re open and raw with me, but seeing you so hurt and scared breaks my heart. I just want to hold you and make everything right again. You don’t have to face this alone, baby. You have me, I’m here for you, always. No matter what”

He gently cupped your face, turning you toward him so your eyes met. “You are more than a match. So, so much more. Navarro didn’t break you. She might’ve shaken your confidence, but that’s all. You’ve built your entire life on your talent, skill and hard work, and one bad match doesn’t erase that. You’ve been through rough times before, and you always come out stronger, baby”

You shook your head slightly, doubt still tugging at you, your eyes wide and watery, as you pouted softly. “What if I’m not good enough anymore?”

Ben smiled softly, brushing away a tear from your cheek. “You are more than good enough. I see the way you light up when you talk about the game, but I also see you. The Y/N who wakes me up with kisses, who dances around the kitchen, the Y/N who’s so smart and who cares so much about the people around her. Tennis is a part of you, but it doesn’t define you. You define you. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, his presence comforting in a way nothing else had been. The tension in your chest loosened ever so slightly as you exhaled a shaky breath, resting your head against his shoulder, and squeezing your eyes shut.

“And listen,” he continued, his voice soft but sure, “when you step back on that court, it’s not just about proving anything to Navarro or to anyone else. It’s about showing yourself what you’re capable of. You’ve always been a fighter, Y/N. And I know, no matter what happens, you’ll come through and rise up.”

In the quiet of the taxi, you felt the weight on your chest begin to lift, if only a little. You curled into Ben, his hand still tracing comforting patterns along your back. For the first time in a long while, you felt seen, not as the athlete, not as the image the world expected, but as you.

By the time you got back to the hotel, exhaustion and emotion hit hard. You kicked off your heels at the door, plopping onto the sofa as the weight of everything finally crashed down on you. You let your hair down from its ponytail, feeling it cascade over your shoulders as you sighed and placed your head in your hands. The tears came without warning, silent, but heavy. They rolled down your cheeks as you sat there, your shoulders slumped, the muffled rush of your own breathing the only sound as you tried to hold it together.

Ben sat beside you, his arms wrapping around you like a lifeline. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to fix it, he just held you close, his presence a quiet comfort in the storm of emotions. After a few moments, he pressed a kiss to your temple, the warmth of it grounding you just enough.

“You don’t have to carry all of this on your own,” he murmured softly. “I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to face it yourself.”

You swallowed hard, another wave of emotion swelling in your chest. His words felt like a release valve, a safe place to let go. “I just... I don’t know how to shake this,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “It’s like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to come up for air.”

Ben pulled you onto his lap with his arms still holding you, his thumb brushing gentle strokes along your skin. “I’ve seen you do incredible things, Y/N. You’re not lost, you’re just stuck. And tomorrow, we’ll get back on the court. Together. I’ll help you, okay? We’ll figure this out, step by step.”

You looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of frustration or obligation. But all you saw was softness, sincerity, his deep, brown eyes full of unwavering care for you. A shaky breath left you as the idea of getting back on the court with him settled in. “You sure?” you asked, the vulnerability in your voice raw. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Oh please, you’re never a burden,” he said, his lips brushing against your hair as he kissed the top of your head a few times. “We’ll work on your serve, your shots. Whatever you need.”

You nestled into Ben's chest, your body still trembling slightly from the release of emotions, but now, with him holding you, the weight seemed just a little lighter. You sighed, his warmth surrounding you like a cloud, which made you plant a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek as you studied his face. Ben chuckled, a low, comforting sound that vibrated through you as he hugged you even tighter.

“You keep looking at me like that with those big puppy eyes, and I’m gonna think you’re trying to butter me up,” he teased, mischief dancing in his eyes as he looked down at you.

You shook your head gently, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Maybe I am,” you murmured. “Is it working?”

He grinned, tilting his head as if pretending to consider it. “Hmm, maybe,” he said, leaning down to pepper your face with kisses, your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, until you burst out laughing, squirming in his lap.

“Ben!” you giggled, trying to push his face away, but he just held you tighter, his laughter mingling with yours as he planted one last, exaggeratedly loud kiss on your cheek.

“There we go. That’s the smile I was waiting for,” he said softly, brushing away the remnants of your tears with his thumb. Then he added with a teasing grin, “God, you’re a pretty crier, you know that? Am I this whipped, or is your crying actually so beautiful to me?”

You laughed, feeling a blush creep to your cheeks despite the lingering sadness. “Really? You can’t give me a break from my beauty even when I’m a mess?”

His expression softened, and his voice dropped to a tender whisper. “You’re my beautiful mess, baby. You're stronger than you think. Tomorrow’s just another step, and I’ll be right there with you through all of it Y/N. But tonight... let’s take it easy, okay?”

You nodded, the vulnerability in your chest easing as you nuzzled into him, letting his reassurance sink in. “Okay. But only if you promise to keep the kisses coming. I don’t actually mind them that much.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. “Oh, trust me, I have plenty more where those came from.”

You laughed again, feeling lighter as the weight of the day was lifted and shared. With a final few kisses, he shifted, pulling you closer into a cocoon of warmth, your head resting on his chest as his fingers gently played with your hair.

“Let’s order room service—some sweet little treat or whatever you call it. I know you’ve got a weakness for ice cream.”

You tucked your face into his neck, hiding a smile. “Alright, but only if you promise to share.”

“Deal,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll have some ice cream, watch the fuckin' dumbest movie we can find, and tomorrow, we’ll tackle the court together.”

You nestled deeper, his warmth surrounding you as the heaviness of the day slowly faded. He stroked your hair gently, his thumb tracing calming circles on your back.

“How do you always know exactly what to say and do?” you mumbled against him, your voice soft, exhaustion still lingering at the edges.

Ben chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “It’s a talent,” he teased. “But you’re easy to read. I’ve got my boyfriend role down to a T. Ice cream and kisses are my foolproof pick-me-up.”

You lifted your head to look at him, a smile on your tear-stained face, finding him unbelievably sweet. There was something timeless about his words as if twenty years down the line, he would still have you like this. You held his face and kissed him deeply, feeling his giggle in the kiss. Overwhelmed by his love, you wanted him to feel it too.

The two of you shared ice cream and silly banter, the tension of the day slowly dissolving into warmth, laughter, and love. As the night deepened and the movie ended, the ice cream tub empty, you drifted off into the most peaceful sleep you had in a long time, safe in the knowledge that whatever tomorrow brought, Ben would be right there beside you, helping you every step of the way.

The next morning, Ben stayed true to his word. You hit the courts just as the first light of dawn brushed the horizon, the air crisp and cool. Though you were still shaking off sleep, Ben seemed full of peppy energy, tossing you your racket with a grin. “Alright, superstar, let’s see what you’ve got!”

You lined up, feeling the familiar weight of the racket in your hand, but the first serve fell flat, hitting the net. You frowned.

The next few tries weren’t much better, either flying out of bounds or clipping the net. Frustration bubbled up, and you let out an exasperated sigh. “I can’t get it right.”

Ben walked over with a few more balls, calm as ever. “You’re tense,” he said softly, his hands finding your waist again. “You’ve been in your head too long, baby. You need to feel the court, not force it. Breathe, take it easy and try again.”

You rolled your shoulders, trying to loosen up, but your mind was still spinning. “It’s just not coming back,” you muttered, frustrated.

Ben didn’t respond right away, just came up behind you, his presence a steady comfort. “Let me help,” he said, his voice soft. His hands guided yours on the racket, adjusting your grip before sliding down to your hips. “It’s not all in the swing. It’s in how you use your whole body, how you shift and follow through. Let the court come to you.”

His hands lingered, his chest pressed against your back, steady and sure, as he tilted your hips slightly, helping you find your balance again.

“You know this court, star,” he whispered, his breath warm against your neck. “It’s yours. Remember how it feels under your feet.”

You nodded slowly, closing your eyes for a second, trying to push the frustration away. Ben’s voice, his touch, helped as both a guide and a distraction. When you opened your eyes again, you focused as tension had begun to ease. You served, this time letting the movement flow through you. The ball cut through the air cleanly, landing near the baseline. There was no power struggle, no overthinking, just instinct.

“That’s it, baby” Ben murmured smiling, watching you. “Feel that? You’re not forcing it. You’re moving with the court.”

You started again, focusing less on hitting a hard serve and more on control, allowing the court to guide you. Each serve felt more natural and precise. Ben stood right beside you, offering gentle corrections, praise, and soft, reassuring touches. His hand rested on your lower back, his fingers brushing against your arm, sending tingles through you. You’d be lying if you said coach Ben wasn’t just a little sexy in his element, the way he moved with confidence and authority, every glance filled with admiration and encouragement. He noticed the blush creeping up your cheeks, and a knowing smirk spread across his face, making your heart race even more.

As the session went on, you felt yourself loosening up bit by bit, your body remembering what it was capable of. The court started to feel familiar again, like an extension of yourself. The frustration melted away as you explored each corner, reclaiming your space, and rediscovering the rhythm of your game.

“You’re getting it back,” Ben said softly, stepping closer to brush a light kiss on your temple, his eyes filled with pride. “Little by little, you’re taking control. Good job, star.”

With each swing, you felt more confident. The serves landed deeper and accurately, and you were no longer second-guessing and stalling yourself. It was like the mental block that had blocked your game was lifting. You were in control, not just of the ball, but of the court and of yourself. The sensation was exhilarating, like finding something deeply familiar yet long forgotten.

Ben grinned, watching you get into the groove of it. “That’s my girl,” he nodded, walking over to plant another soft kiss on your forehead. His touch was gentle, his presence grounding. “See? You’ve had it in you all along, babe”

You smiled back, feeling the warmth of his encouragement seep into your skin. The court was yours again, bit by bit. Each serve became more fluid, more instinctive until you weren’t thinking at all, just playing.

By the time you finished, your muscles were tired, but your spirit was light. You collapsed onto the court bench, breathless but smiling wide. Ben sat next to you, tossing a towel over your head with a playful chuckle. “Not bad, star,” he teased, his arm slipping around your shoulders, pulling you close.

You pulled the towel off, laughing softly, leaning into him. “Not bad? I’m just getting started.”

Ben chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead, his voice low and full of pride. “You’re ready, babe. Navarro won’t know what hit her.”

You tilted your head up toward him, your heart swelling with the warmth of his support, his belief in you. “Thanks, Ben,” you whispered, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

He smiled down at you, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Don't thank me, you're my star. You always had it in you, you just needed to be woken up. You’ve got this.”

As you settled into the comfortable silence, you couldn’t help but smile at him a little. “You know, you were kind of, well really, hot when you were coaching me back there.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh really? Didn’t know you were into coaches,” he replied, leaning closer with a playful glint in his eye.

You felt heat flooding your face as you tried to maintain your composure. “What can I say? I guess I’m a little hot and bothered by a guy who knows what he’s doing.”

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hmm, maybe you should forget more moves so I can show you how to do them, and some more,” he teased, winking.

Feeling a rush of flustered energy, you tossed the towel at him playfully. “Shut up, Ben!”

He caught the towel with a laugh, his eyes gleaming with amusement. Before you could react, he leaned in, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you closer. His lips brushed against yours in a teasing kiss, warm and lingering.

“Just so you know,” he murmured against your lips, a playful smile dancing on his face, “I won’t tease you... for now.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile breaking through as you quickly picked up your bag and darted away, glancing back at him with a cheeky grin. “Catch me if you can!”

Ben laughed, instantly springing into action, his competitive spirit kicking in as he chased after you. You could hear his footsteps pounding behind you, and the thrill of the moment sent your heart racing.

You knew what lay ahead, your work was cut out for you, but this playful exchange filled you with renewed energy. With only a matter of days left to tighten up your game, you were ready to tackle it head-on, and with Ben by your side, you felt unstoppable.

The roar of the crowd felt distant as you walked through the tunnel and set your bag down, it was like background noise as you stepped up to the baseline.

You bounced the ball a few times, steadying your breath, closing your eyes and remembering to feel the court. For the first time in a long time, the nerves weren’t overwhelming. The fog that had clouded your mind for so long had finally lifted. You could feel it, the control, the power, the pure joy of being here again.

You looked across the net at Emma Navarro. She was focused, her eyes sharp, but you weren’t intimidated. Not anymore.

You tossed the ball up, your body moving fluidly. The serve was powerful, and precise, landing just inside the line. Navarro barely managed to reach it, her return shaky, and you pounced on the ball with ease, sending a clean shot down the sideline. Point, yours.

As the game continued, you could feel yourself loosening up even more, the flow of the game taking over. You were back to being fluid. Each serve was strong, each shot deliberate. The crowd's cheers grew louder with each point you won, but your focus was laser-sharp. You were smiling, actually smiling, because, for the first time in a while, you were enjoying the game in full. Truly enjoying it.

Navarro, on the other hand, was starting to crack. Frustration etched itself onto her face as she missed returns, her shots hitting the net or flying wide. You could see it in her body language, the stiff movements, the clenched jaw. She screamed to herself after missing a particularly crucial point, her racket bouncing once on the ground in frustration. You remained composed, feeding off her energy but not letting it affect you.

You’d been there before, the frustration, the doubt, but today, you were on the other side of it. Calm. Confident.

The last point of the match came fast. Navarro’s serve was weak, and you returned it with a backhand that forced her wide. She scrambled, barely making it, sending a lob over the net. You didn’t hesitate. Stepping into position, you smashed the ball down with a powerful overhead. The crowd erupted, but you barely registered the sound. It was just you and the court, and that sweet feeling of victory settled over you like a warm glow.

Game, set, match—yours.

Navarro offered a tight, forced smile as you shook hands at the net. She was clearly upset, her frustration barely contained, but you didn’t linger on it. You had won. Not just the match, but the battle with yourself.

As you walked off the court, your body thrumming with the adrenaline of victory, the weight that had been hanging over you for months felt lighter. The pressure was still there, but now, you felt in control of it.

The tunnel to the locker room was quiet compared to the roaring arena. You rounded the corner, towel slung over your shoulder, your breath and heartbeat finally starting to steady. As you approached the locker room door, you stopped in your tracks.

There, sitting on the bench inside, was Ben.

He stood as soon as he saw you, a wide grin breaking across his face. He didn’t wait for you to say anything before he crossed the room and pulled you into his arms, holding you tight.

“You did it, baby,” he murmured into your hair, his voice warm with pride. “I knew you would.”

You buried your face in his chest, the exhaustion settling in, but there was also this overwhelming sense of relief and joy.

“I haven’t felt like that in so long,” you whispered, your voice muffled against him. “It felt... so right.”

Ben pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks gently. His eyes were soft, filled with so much love that it made your chest tighten in the best way.

“That’s because it was right. You were incredible out there. I’ve never been prouder of you, my star.”

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling at the nickname.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you said, your voice soft but full of truth.

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled back.

“I’ll always be here to help you get on your feet,” he said quietly, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincerity that made your breath hitch. “No matter what. I’ll be right here, cheering you on, every step of the way.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of his promise settle deep within you. It wasn’t just about tennis anymore. It was about everything, the future, the ups and downs, the challenges and victories. And you knew, without a doubt, that Ben would be there through it all.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Ben’s grin softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulled you close again, his lips brushing your temple. “I love you too, star. More than you know.”

For a few moments, the two of you just stood there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading into the background. It was just you and Ben, your hearts beating in time, the promise of something stronger, something deeper, wrapped around you like a blanket of safety.

With his arm draped around your shoulders, the two of you walked out of the locker room, your heart lighter, your spirit soaring. The future felt wide open, full of endless possibilities and with Ben by your side, you were ready for all of it.

And just like that, the world melted away again, leaving only the two of you in that tiny bubble of love and safety, where nothing else mattered.