#and i believe from the few things we saw of him he could be willing to change

[midnightmah07]

Super random but one thing that annoys me is people villanizing Falena as a character. Like we haven't even met him yet but you wholeheartedly believe he's a clown who cannot properly take care of his country. My guy, Falena is not perfect, and I'm not saying his way of governing his country is perfect either, Sunset Savannah has tons of trouble, but he's not a dictator, he's misled when it comes to paying respect to the nature/his ancestors to the point he doesn't see current problems, but we also have to remember while I love Leona his opinion IS biased, he already has something against his brother, it doesn't invalidate his opinion but it's something worth noting. Also, may I add, he seems totally willing to taking criticism, at least it seemed so in that one line of him saying to Leona he would never be king, but he can still contribute to his country, I have absolutely no doubt in my mind if Leona criticized him seriously and gave him advice, he would listen.

But noooooo he's the source of all Leona's problems (he's not.) so he can't possibly be a good person who happens to be flawed noooooo

[bartxnhood]

mayberry | t.o

tyler owens x fem!reader

based on this request: Requesting one, where Tyler and his crew chasing the tornado as casual but there's a twist (it can be a happy or angst ending) what if the tornado they chase was heading to where reader lives, today he was planning on asking her to move on with him after they finished another successful on making the tornado gone yet when he noticed where it was going he drives faster and trying to outrun the tornado.

warnings: descriptions of tornadoes, reader loses her house, blood, cuts.

w/c: 1.8k

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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“shes a pistol, ty. hope you can handle her” javier begins, removing his sunnies and leans against his white truck while looking at tyler across the driveway of your mothers house.

tyler smiles to himself at the mention of you. he looks in his wallet, a picture of you and him at a rodeo. you’re wearing his red flannel and white cowboy hat as you kiss his cheek.

a picture he treasured most. no one knew about this picture in his wallet. it was his own little secret, you didn’t even know he had the polaroid.

tyler and you both majored in meteorology throughout your time in college. storm chasers had a limited dating pool. nobody was willing to chase after these monstrous storms in such a way and then return to laugh about it over a few beers.

that’s why he took such a liking to you.

tyler didn't try to hide his feelings first. he would constantly try to convince you to go out with him or do something else, but you would never accept his advances. you didn't believe that you could put up with his ego.

till you began chasing with him.

since then, you saw a side of him that you didn’t know. tyler was a kind hearted man, caring for the people that fell victim to these storms. he was so intelligent that it made you rethink your own decisions, that was rare.

before you knew it, you started falling for tyler owens. the rest is history.

“i’m thinkin bout asking her to move in with me after we get this storm tonight.” tyler confesses to javier, a sly smirk on his face. javier’s eyebrows raise, cocking his hip to the side and crossing his arms.

“you think she’ll say yes?”

tyler presses his lips into a thin smile, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket where it belongs. “i hope so.” he answers, looking up towards the house.

tyler had decided it was time to take the next step with you. he had been thinking about asking you to move in with him for a while now, and he was sure it was the right decision.

he loved you deeply and couldn’t imagine his life without you. he wanted to wake up next to you every morning, cook breakfast together, and spend evenings cuddled up on the couch watching movies.

the thought of you living together filled him with excitement and joy, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when he popped the question.

“guys!” lilly hollers, exiting the rv, running towards the pair. “we have huge activity southeast. we gotta move, now!”

there’s a tension that settled in over the group as they all scrambled to get their things together and radars ready.

tyler’s first thought was you. he takes off, boots stomping in the puddles as he swings the screen door open.

“y/n?” he hollers, taking his sunglasses off.

“up here!” you answer, drying your hair after a shower.

you watch in the mirror as tyler appears in the doorway, “whats up?” you ask, dropping your hand by your sides. “there’s one southeast. big one.” he’s almost grinning hoping to get you excited but his smile drops when you don’t react.

there’s a silence as you begin to rake product through the ends of your hair. “cmon, we don’t wanna miss it. lilly says it’ll touch down in an hour at least.”

“m’not goin” you reply, looking into his eyes from the mirror. “what? whaddya mean?”

“it’s mom” you answer, followed by a sigh. “she’s doing bad again, she’s freaking out over it and i’m just gonna stay with her. the house isn’t in the path so it should be fine” you say, turning to him.

you can see a soft frown on his lips as he looks down at you, “we always chase together.”

you smile sadly, and nod. you let your hand come up and caress his cheek. “i know, darlin. we’ll get the next one i promise.”

you press a quick kiss on his lips, “be safe, baby.” he replies, kissing the top of your head and heading off with the crew.

the atmosphere was thick and heavy with a sense of impending doom as the tornado began to take shape. the clouds churned and wracked, twisting into a massive, menacing funnel cloud. the noise was deafening, a high-pitched roar that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

gusts of wind howled like a beast, tearing at anything in their path. this was no ordinary twister; this was an EF5, the most powerful and destructive tornado there was. it loomed on the horizon, a sinister harbinger of disaster.

tyler, now chasing the storm, was strapped into his well-worn red dodge. his eyes fixed on the churning sky as he chased a massive storm through the southeast landscapes. his truck was a trusted companion, having borne him through countless weather events.

its engine roared confidently as tyler navigated the treacherous terrain, seeking the perfect position to observe the storm up close and capture its raw power. he was fueled by a deep passion for the spectacle of the weather and driven by the adrenalin rush of being in the heart of the swirling chaos.

“you seein this, T?!” boone hollers from the passenger seat. “i’m seein it boone!” he yells back, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

tyler doesn’t remove his eyes from the storm raging in the wheat field, but something feels off. something isn’t right.

“what is it, ty?” javier calls over the radio noticing his decreasing speed. tyler is too mesmerized by the black clouds, he doesn’t reply. “T?” boone calls.

“something’s wrong.” he mumbles, “the path..the path is changing!” he says hurriedly watching the surroundings.

lilly pipes from the backseat, “its moving northwest! heading straight for mayberry!”

“shit.” tyler hits his steering wheel before making a sharp turn, turning around.

“the path is shifting!” boone alerts over the radio.

tyler’s heart launched in his chest watching the twister hurtling towards the small town where you lived. he’d often worried about this, and now his worst nightmare was unfolding before his eyes.

his grip tightened on the steering wheel, and his eyes darkened as he gunned the engine, pushing the red dodge to its limits. he had to get to you, had to make sure you were safe. his mind raced as he calculated how much time he had, the seconds ticking away in an excruciating countdown.

there was no warning, the storm was moving too unpredictably. you should’ve monitored it closer, you should’ve been more prepared.

the house trembled violently as the tornado tore through the neighborhood.

the windows shattered, spraying glass everywhere. the walls creaked and groaned, buckling under the immense pressure of the onslaught.

pictures fell from the walls, their frames splattering on the floor. furniture was hurled around like toys, breaking apart as it smashed into the remaining walls.

“mom!” you holler, staying low to the ground reaching out for her. she takes your hand and you pull her close to your body.

“hold on tight!” you scream.

the two of you huddled together, their screams blending into the cacophony, their eyes wide with terror. outside, the world had become a blur of debris and chaos, the swirling vortex ripping everything apart in its path.

tyler stepped out of his truck followed by boone and lilly. his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he saw the destruction hoping beyond hope that she was safe. but the sight that greeted him was a nightmare. your once-cheerful home had been reduced to a pile of rubble, the remnants of your life scattered among the wreckage. the tornado had ripped through the property, leaving destruction in its wake.

the property wasn’t recognizable, the only way he knew it was your home was your white jeep wrapped around the willow tree.

tyler’s hands come up and run thorough his hair, “oh god..” he breathes. “jesus christ..” boone says just above a whisper.

tyler can’t let his emotions get the best of him. he needed to find you.

“y/n!” he hollers.

“y/n!” lilly screams. “ms.l/n” boone calls for your mom.

tyler pushes his way through the debris, his eyes scanning the rubble for any sign of you.

he continued to pulled lumber, pillars, glass and furniture for what felt like hours. “y/n!” his heart thudding against his chest with every moment that passed. panic clawed at his gut as he continued his desperate search.

finally, he heard a faint sound, like a whimper. he turned, and there you were, buried under a pile of rubble.

his breath caught in his throat as he carefully dug you out, his hands trembling.

as your face came into view, it was smeared with dirt and blood, but your eyes widened with relief as you saw him. “t?” you rasp.

he gently picked you up, cradling you against him like a fragile doll.

"i'm here," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "im here, and you're going to be okay."

you wince, standing on the unstable ground. “mom..” you croak, tears brimming down your eyes again. “she’s down there..”

tyler nods, he looks back at boone and was about to go down and search for her but boone stops him. “i got her.”

boone disappears in the pile of rubble, then he emerges with your mother in his arms. “we need an ambulance!”

tyler nods and leaves you with lilly to call for first responders.

“‘m fine, t.” you say, say in the back of the ambulance. “just makin sure..” he whispered taking your arm in his hands and scanning your skin. he needed to make sure you weren’t seriously injured, even though you were just checked out by ems.

“t..” you sighs as he continues, his hand snow on either side of your face moving your head around still checking. “tyler.” you call him again, this time your hands gripping his wrists.

his eyes meet yours, the sign of tears still staining your cheeks. “i’m okay, i promise” you assure, smiling. “jus glad you made it to me, how’d you know?”

tyler shrugs, “the wind started morning north, learned it from you.” he answers, coming to your side and pulling you in.

you stay there for a while, the sirens flooding your ears and the lights illuminating the place where your home once stood. tyler rubs your shoulders and pulls the emergency blanket tighter around your body.

you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. “is now a bad time to ask if you want to live with me?” he looks down at you.

“what?” you look up at him.

and maybe it wasn’t the right time, but he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to ask you.

“live with me. hell, bring your mom. i don’t care, just..” he reaches for your hand. “i just know that i love you and i want you around even more than you already are.” he laughs lightly, continuing to rub your shoulder.

“i would love to live with you.”

tyler smiles proudly, squeezing you closer to his side.

“now i just needa marry you.”

[scoutswritingcorner]

Hello lovely ~ gonna request what we were talking about~

Alastors antlers shedding♡ literally? Anything you wanna say about it

Shedding Season

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW: Antlers being Shed, Alastor being clingy. 18+ as it does mention Alastor having a rut. Nothing graphic I promise

A/N:This is my take on how he would deal with his antlers shed and how he deals with his rut.

Alastor finds himself needing help with shedding his antlers. You decide to help him out

It started off fine for Alastor, at first it was more of an urge to stay near his lover, you, it didn’t really bother him as he was a busy man and had things to take care of but it got worse after a day or two. The urge to stay in your vicinity got worse as he got even more agitated than before if he strayed away from you or Satan forbid Lucifer or Husker got too close to you. Then it was the constant motion of him rubbing his face into your neck or shoulder when no one was around, you didn’t seem to mind one bit but it agitated him to no end. But the feeling went away once you carefully ran your fingers through his hair, brushing near his antlers and ever so carefully scratching which caused him to pull you closer to him. 

Then it was how his body was reacting, how he couldn’t even wear his own coat anymore. It was like every article of clothing was suffocating him and how he hated it so. The best course of action he thought of was hiding in his room away from prying eyes and ears as he snarled out rubbing his horns on one of the many trees in the bayou in his bedroom. He didn’t need you to see how pathetic he looked and felt, his sweet doe would never look at him the same if they saw him like this. He was sure of it. Despite being in his own room, the wind of the familiar bayou felt on his warm body wasn't enough for him. It wasn’t until he heard a knock on his bedroom door that sent his ears turning to the sound and his head snapping up in anger.

“Alastor? Darling?” You called out from the other side of his bedroom door, his heart pounded before he willed his way towards the door ignoring the pain his antlers were giving him. He shakily gripped the doorknob before opening it only a bit. “Yes, Dear?” He asked softly trying to keep his anger at bay as his chest heaved with every heavy breath. You softly smiled at him, “May I come in?” You asked, holding onto the door frame leaning closer to him.

He weighed the options for a moment before eventually allowing you into his room, finally noticing the small basket in your hands, he tilted his head confused. Closing the door behind you he watched as you sat on his chair and waved him over, “Come here you silly deer.” You teased, causing him to huff but he followed your directions as much as he wanted to argue, he knew better. Especially at this moment. You held out your hands to him, the basket on the side of the chair, he slowly held your hands as you pulled him to sit on the ground in between your legs, his back towards the chair. 

“Need a drink or something to snack on, Love?” You asked him as he shook his head silently, he was rarely ever silent. You reached up and gently rubbed his shoulders noticing how warm his skin felt. “You’re rut is around the corner isn’t it?” He froze at the mention of his rut as his hand reached up to rub at his face. “Yes..I do believe it’s that time of year again, Cher.” He replied the radio static filter from his voice was gone as he let out a deep heavy sigh. 

You reached down and grabbed a cold water bottle to hand to him. “Drink up, Al..I’m gonna try and help you get this velvet off your antlers okay?” You whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his head. Alastor could only nod and mumble out a warning but you’ve been through this rodeo with him before. You reached down to get the tools from the basket as well as some of his favorite snacks that you got from Rosie earlier today. “They might shed as well, Al..just let it happen okay?” You carefully brushed back his hair seeing as a few strands stuck to his head that was covered in sweat. He could only reply with a hum leaning his head back against you. You were gonna have to get him a cold rag soon as well.

As you began to slowly and carefully help get the velvet off of his antlers he let out a low groan closing his eyes as sweat covered his face and neck. “Want me to go get you a cold rag, Darlin?” You asked softly tilting his head back carefully watching as he opened his eyes, his everlasting smile had dropped a while ago. “No..not yet..” He whispered out, you went back to silently helping him knowing how overwhelmed he gets during these times. 

It was only after you had gotten all of the velvet off of his antlers that something hit the floor with a soft thud making Alastor jump nonetheless. You looked over after making sure you had everything put back up and noticed his two antlers had shed, making him grumble loudly as he leaned his head back into your stomach. “Come on, Al..let me go get a rag for your face and neck.” You whispered slowly getting up as he leaned forward watching you. “Take a sip of water and eat up, okay? I don’t need you dealing with your rut on an empty stomach.” He waved a hand towards you but did what you had asked of him.

The rest of the night was spent with him sitting between your legs as you carefully washed the sweat from his face and neck, whispering soft reassurances as he kept drifting in and out of sleep. Soft jazz playing in the background as his shadow carefully wrapped around your body.

He felt a million times better and he knew that the weeks of his rut would be over soon enough with you helping him with how uncomfortable it made him.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Could you write more Eddie x shy!reader it was so good! Maybe with her staying the night for the first time?

Eddie Munson x shy!fem!reader

You stood on the porch of Eddie's trailer feeling anxiety coursing through you. You looked down at the duffel bag in your hand then back at the door that you were waiting for Eddie to answer, your anxiety getting worse as you heard his footsteps getting closer.

The door flew open and he was on the other side, a wide grin spreading across his face as he caught sight of you. It had only been a few weeks since the two of you made it official but he still got so giddy when he was around you, never able to keep that goofy grin on his face.

"C'mon in," he took you by the hand and led you inside, shutting the door behind you. "So this is the place," he gestured to the interior of the trailer and you took it in, immediately feeling comfort once you stepped inside.

"It's nice," you told him. "It feels really cozy." Eddie took that as a huge compliment. His whole life, he had been teased for living in the trailer park, but he never saw a problem with it. Just because it wasn't a house didn't mean that it wasn't a home.

"Well, I've got mac and cheese on the stove and I picked up a movie from Family Video for us to watch."

"That sounds great," you smiled and he couldn't help but mimic it, pulling you closer to him by your attached hands. He then grabbed hold of your chin with his free hand, tilting your head back so he could press a kiss to your lips.

He then grabbed hold of your duffel bag once he pulled away, leading you to his room. He pulled you inside and set your bag on his bed before turning to you, resting his hands on your waist. He then went in for another kiss, this one deeper than the one you had just shared.

Eddie was trying to take it slow with you. He knew that you had never been in a relationship and wanted to go at your pace. He wanted to make sure that you were comfortable, that you were in control of the whole thing. He wanted everything to be perfect for you.

He felt your tongue swipe along his bottom lip and he panicked. In the few weeks the two of you been together, your kisses had never gotten that far. Because if they did, they could easily escalate to sex and he didn't want to pressure you into that.

But he let you in anyway, not able to resist and your tongue swirled around his, an involuntary moan falling from your lips. Eddie could feel himself getting hard at the sound of it and he quickly pulled away from you, hoping that you hadn't been able to feel it against you.

"We should stop," he said, licking his lips and you nodded, understanding that he was wanting to take things slow. You were grateful that he was willing to do so for your sake.

"You're right," you nodded again. "Did you say something about mac and cheese?"

"I did," he smiled and took you by the hand once again before leading you to the kitchen. Just like Eddie promised there was in fact a pot of the pasta sitting on the stove.

He grabbed a couple of bowls from one of the cabinets and you didn't miss how the bottom of his shirt rose, revealing his stomach. You almost wanting to reach out and touch it, but you stopped yourself, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

You watched him fill your bowl and he handed it to you before serving himself some and he then led you to the living room. He motioned for you to sit on the couch while he put in the movie. While it started up, Eddie sat next to you, watching you enjoy the meal he made for you as you stared at the screen. You were so adorable and he still couldn't believe that you were his. That out of everyone, you wanted to be with him.

You half expected the movie to be horror, but to your surprise, it was romcom you had told him about multiple times. You knew it wasn't his thing so it warmed your heart that he had rented it just for you.

Once you finished your dinner, the two of you snuggled up, you tucked into his side, your arms holding onto each other. You decided that you could have been happy staying there forever, wrapped up in his arms. It was the most comfortable you had been in so long and it felt like home.

The movie hadn't even reached the halfway mark when you drifted off to sleep. Eddie almost wanted to wake you up, but you just looked so cute, so at peace. So he waited until the credits rolled to carry you to bed. He scooped you up with ease and saw your eyes open slowly, a drowsy smile forming on your lips.

"I'm not ready for bed," you pouted and he just laughed.

"Clearly you are since you fell asleep."

"I don't want to," you whined.

"Think about it this way, going to bed means we get to cuddle and you love cuddles, right?" He asked and you just nodded.

"Then let's go." He carried you to his room and set you on his bed. "Is it okay if I pull out some pajamas for you?" He asked, not wanting to go through your things without your permission.

"Mhm," you nodded, scrubbing at your eyes with the backs of your hands.

Eddie opened your duffel and thankfully, your pajamas were on top. He reached for them then moved to where you were sitting, handing them to you before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Once you were dressed, you joined him, your toothbrush in hand.

You both brushed your teeth and it almost seemed like you were a married couple getting ready for bed. That was something you found yourself imagining to help you fall asleep every night. And maybe if you played your cards right, in a few years, Eddie would be your fiancé.

After your teeth were brushed, you followed Eddie to the bed. You each stood on either side and got in, scooting closer to the middle where you met, getting snuggled up, pressing your chest to his and tangling your legs together.

"Good night, sweetheart," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips before clicking off the lamp behind him.

"Goodnight, Eddie," you whispered back and snuggled further into his chest beforw the two of you drifted off to sleep, both knowing that you were definitely going t make having sleepovers a regular thing.

[steddieas-shegoes]

At ten years old, Eddie’s mama gets a raise at work just in time for Christmas. This is the same year Wayne works enough to set aside almost $200 for Eddie’s Christmas presents.

Eddie doesn’t know this, and he’s a kid who knows better than to expect more than a few things in his stocking and one or two “bigger gifts” -usually books or tapes- so it’s a surprise when his stocking is overflowing and there’s a huge box under the tree Christmas morning.

Even more surprising is that it’s labeled from Santa, and Eddie hasn’t believed in Santa for nearly three years despite everyone in his classes still believing. He bounces on his feet while he waits for Wayne to get his coffee, for his mama to finish making their special hot chocolate.

The year he gets his first guitar is also the year he finds out his mama can sing like a rock star.

It’s the year he finds out Wayne used to play bluegrass at a bar back home and probably could’ve made it big if he was willing to leave his sister.

It’s the year Eddie finds out he can play by ear and uses it to his advantage to learn all his favorite songs as soon as he figures out the chords.

And for years, he is quick to pull out his acoustic to learn something new, even when he manages to buy his electric with money from helping fix cars at the shop where his uncle’s friend works.

After he saves Hawkins, and his hands stop shaking enough for him to play, he asks Steve to bring his acoustic to the hospital so he can entertain himself. Steve shares a look with Wayne, then his mama.

“It, uh, didn’t survive…everything.”

Nothing broke his heart quite like hearing that.

He pretends it’s okay though, doesn’t want his mama and Wayne to feel worse than they already did about everything.

He tables his emotions until he’s alone that night, shortly after dinner when everyone goes home to get some rest before the next day of volunteering, and cleaning, and visiting.

He’s woken up in the middle of the night by the door opening, and even though the person coming in is trying to be quiet, the door creaks from the building settling funny during the “earthquake.”

“Steve?”

Steve turns and even in the dark, Eddie can see his blush.

He’s holding something.

Something big and guitar shaped.

“What have you done?”

Steve walks over to him and gently sets the guitar case in his lap.

Eddie opens it and sees a gently used acoustic with Eddie’s name now engraved on the side.

“Steve.”

“You can have nice things. You should have nice things. We don’t have many options right now, but at least you won’t get rusty.”

Eddie cried.

Steve held him.

And after Steve wiped his tears away and kissed his forehead—which was something they’d be talking about as soon as Eddie could focus on something other than the guitar in his lap— he played slower songs, songs that even Steve could recognize, until a nurse realized Steve was here past visiting hours and kicked him out.

When his mama saw it the next morning propped by his bed, she smiled knowingly.

“I see the boy followed through.”

“What?”

“He asked me all kinds of questions about guitars and what your old one looked like and if a used one would be okay. Don’t know how he found one so quick.”

“He’s pretty determined when he sets his mind to something.”

“I think he’s set his mind on you, baby.”

Eddie thought maybe she was right.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 You Says.

Post prison Reid x Reporter!reader

Read part one here!

Summary: After a rough night and some misunderstandings, Spencer needs to do everything he can to make things right with you and get his relationship back on track. The problem is, things aren't so easy for you, and he's willing to do anything you ask, even take care of you when no one else will.

Words: 3,1k.

TW: mentions of crime and trauma (normal warnings in the serie. angst+comfort. the reader gets sick (nothing serious, just a normal cold). a little mention of spencer's past traumas. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Ok, I didn't think of doing a second part before, but reading my own work made me so sad😭 the cat deserves happy parents (we are the cat) but I warn you that I do not believe in magic apologies.

As an interesting side note, both parts of this story are named after children's games. In this case, it's for "Simon Says," which I thought was pretty cool because in this part, Spencer literally does whatever the reader wants.

I also want to thank you for the support you gave to the first part and for the 300 followers💝 I could not say it before but it makes me very happy.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Spencer had been losing his mind since the last time he saw you in person, and it was all his fault. From the moment the door to his apartment closed behind you and the oven beeped, he began to feel the broken pieces of his heart that you had once held together unravel and shatter even more. He hated himself for letting his insecurities get in the way of the one good thing he had managed to have over the past few years, and for pushing you away when you didn't want to. You had been his exception among all the bad things that had happened in his life for as long as he could remember, the only one that didn't seem to want to be temporary and left him when he least expected it. And he himself had forced you out of his life, even when you didn't want to, begging him with tear-filled eyes for a little remorse that he didn't give you.

Just a few hours after the incident, he tried to go to work as if nothing had happened to clean up the mess the leak had made and put the killer in jail. He brought Penelope the promised cookies and your computer for her to examine because it felt right at the time. Part of him needed her to find real proof of your betrayal so he could stop feeling bad about making you cry and saying such ugly things to you.

Then he found out that you were telling the truth and that your computer contained nothing but photos of the two of you, all the articles he had ever written or been mentioned in your searches, and a few writings in which you poured out all your love for him in the cheesiest and most poetic way possible. You loved him, you really did, and there was no evidence to the contrary, because even Garcia could later assure him that the information had come anonymously and had been bought for five hundred dollars. But it was too late, because he had given you a conviction without even knowing it.

That's when he started to fixate on making amends for what he'd done. Every time you left work, bouquets of your favorite flowers with notes asking for forgiveness and wishing you a good night began to appear in your car. He also made a point of stopping by to talk to you and repeat how sorry he was. You knew this would happen when he realized his mistake. You had told him before you left, and that's why you refused to see him. It was good that the security guards at your workplace didn't let him in, even with his FBI credentials. The tricky part was your building because the doorman already knew him and let him in normally thanks to the excuses Spencer made up, even though you said a thousand times that he shouldn't have.

And that was happening again, for the fifth or sixth time in the last few days.

“Please, just let me talk to you and tell you how sorry I am. Listen to me for a moment.” You could hear Reid's voice from the other side of the door.

You didn't say anything. You just sat with your back against the door and one hand on your heart, as if you were trying to hold it. It didn't even cross your mind that he was in the same situation.

“Just a few minutes, please."

Once more, you remained silent.

Silence was the worst answer someone could give. You knew it, and it hurt to have to do it with him. But you had no choice because you knew that by looking into his eyes for just a few seconds, all the bad things would dissipate and maybe you would even forgive him without thinking just because of the love you had for him. You didn't like being this vulnerable and having so many feelings for someone who didn't trust you.

Lately, you've been spending every waking moment wondering what you could have done to make him believe that you were really capable of betraying him in such a cruel and selfish way. You were the one who woke up in the middle of the night to try to comfort him every time he had a nightmare or couldn't sleep. You drove to his apartment no matter what time it was to make sure he was okay. You lost your breath repeating that he was safe with you. You drank many cups of coffee the next day so you wouldn't fall asleep on the job every time the situation repeated itself. That's why you started sleeping in his apartment, wrapped in his arms because he said it made him happy to wake up and see you. And even with all that, Spencer was able to believe that you didn't love him.

You were running your hands through your hair and sighing, trying to block out all the thoughts running through your head, when you heard his phone ring. You could tell it was important by the way he spoke and changed his tone of voice, so you got up from the floor at the same time he did to put your ear to the door.

“I really have to go now, but could you open up a little bit so I can take a quick look at you?” He asked in a pleading tone after hanging up the call. “Please, I know you can hear me. I can see the shadow of your feet under the door.”

You really thought he didn't know you were there, feeling like a fool for listening to every word he said.

“If you want to see me, turn on the TV.” Your voice finally reached Spencer, and it gave him a glimmer of hope. It was the first time you had spoken to him since that night, and even though there was a door between the two of you, you were talking to him.

“It's not enough.”

“And it's not my problem.”

That was more hurtful than your silence.

“I know, it's mine.” He replied after a couple of seconds, trying to process everything. “And I will do everything I can to fix it...I have to go now, but take care of yourself. The nights have been getting colder lately, so wrap up warm.”

You knew it was a bit silly to think of that now, but his attention to detail was impressive. Since you did the evening news, you used to get off work very late, and the change from air conditioning to the city cold was quite a lot. Spencer had cited scientific studies to you many times to make you aware and know what kind of clothing materials to use to avoid a cold. You missed that a lot.

If he had the same attitude as the night of the conflict, it would be easier. You could hate him and stop loving him so strongly.

“I love you, William misses you and so do I.”

You frowned because you didn't know anyone by that name.

“William?”

“Our cat.” He answered simply. “When we talked about how we would name him, you said that a lot of people name their pets after their favorite characters. You love the movie ‘Notting Hill’ and whenever we watch it, you always say you like Hugh Grant's character named William. It also means strong-willed warrior. I just thought you would like it.”

You didn't say anything at the time because you had to cover your hand with your mouth to keep from doing so, but you liked it and you liked it too much. Once again, he focused on the details.

“You can change it if you want because I don't know if he likes it, but what I do know is that he misses you. He lies on your blanket and starts meowing, and he also looks at the door. I certainly think that every time I come home he expects it to be you.” He kept talking as he received no response from you. “It sounds like I'm talking about myself. And it's true because it happens to me the same way.”

When he paused, a tear escaped and fell down your cheek. It wasn't fair for him to say those things now.

“If you want to see him and me not being there, you can send me a message...but I'd really like to be.” He paused again, as if searching for the perfect words.

What did it cost him to have searched for the perfect words the night he distrusted you?

“I must go, I love you.”

The last thing you heard before he left was Spencer's footsteps heading towards the elevator.

Just two weeks later, you realized that maybe you should have listened to Spencer when he said the nights were getting too cold. If you had, now you probably wouldn't be lying on your bed with an unbearable flu and no one there to bring you soup or a cold washcloth for your forehead because your mother was taking too long to get to city.

When you were younger, you thought it was a great idea to get as far away from your hometown as possible. Now, however, you realize that you need a familiar face to take care of you because you can't do it alone all the time.

You felt a sense of relief when you heard the door to your apartment open.

“Mom? I'm really hungry and the soup is all gone.” You spoke in a tired tone as you heard footsteps approaching. But at that moment, you watched as the cat you shared with Reid jumped onto the bed and started purring at you.

You thought you were hallucinating from the fever until you saw Spencer walking into your room with a couple of bags.

“I know you were expecting your mother, but we brought you soup and medicine.” He said, sitting up in bed to look closely at you and put a hand on your forehead. “You're burning up.”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, trying to pull away from his touch.

“Your mother called me because she couldn't find a flight today and was very worried. She asked me to take care of you.”

Of course she did, because she adored him and didn't know that things were bad between you two.

“I don't need you to take care of me.” You barely settled into bed and petted the cat. “Go to work, make sure no one leaks information.”

Oh, that was a low blow for him.

“I asked for a few days off because you have a high fever and someone needs to take care of you.”

“You don't have to...”

“I want to.” He said, interrupting you and putting a cold cloth on your forehead.

“Just because you're looking out for me doesn't mean I'm going to forget everything and forgive you.” You clarified right away, trying not to lose focus because of the relief you felt thanks to the cold compress.

“I know, and I don't expect you to. Just let me take care of you now, forget you hate me until you get better. I won't take advantage of this, I swear.” He looked at you with a serious gaze, as if he were swearing an oath. “Please.”

God, not puppy dog eyes now.

You used to love it when he looked at you with those sparkling eyes. Now, though, you felt manipulated by it.

“Fine, give me the soup.” You finally agreed, knowing you didn't have much of a choice. “Just a warning, please don't answer any calls near me. I can listen in and use the information to hire a nurse.”

He ignored the comment and didn't bring it up to make you uncomfortable. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was light, and his eyes searched yours as he spoke.

“Is there anything else besides soup I can bring you? More tissues, or maybe some medicine?” He asked in a soft, soothing voice.

You shook your head, still a bit dazed by the situation and your stomach rumbling. You watched as Spencer disappeared into the kitchen, and you could hear his footsteps echoing throughout the house, followed by the clatter of pots and pans and the sound of the stove being turned on. You could only lie back on your bed, feeling a wave of tiredness wash over you.

A few minutes later, he came back with a bowl of chicken noodle soup and sat down next to you on the bed, being careful not to spill anything.

“Are you planning to feed me soup?” You asked, with a hint of irony in your voice, as you watched me hold the spoon and watch you.

“If you wish, I'll be happy to.” He replied simply and brought the spoon gently to your mouth.

“I'm not a baby.”

Especially not his baby.

“You hate me, I know. But I really want to take care of you, and I won't leave until at least your mother arrives.” He paused for a second, as if to catch his breath. “If you don't want me around, that's okay, I'll just sit in the corner of the room or in the living room in silence. It hurts, but I'll take whatever you want.”

You remained silent for several seconds, dedicating yourself to stroking the cat to avoid Spencer's gaze.

“I don't hate you.” Was the only thing you could say at the time.

Something inside you was expecting a more exaggerated reaction for letting your guard down a bit, or maybe you were just too feverish. The thing was, he had only given you a small, almost non-existent smile.

“I know.” He finally spoke and gently adjusted the cold compress on your forehead. “And that's why I hate myself.”

At that moment, while you were trying to make sense of how things had changed so much in just a week, he was watching you.

Spencer was waiting for you to explode, to tell him how sorry you were for getting involved with him and his complicated world, that it was all one big mistake that you would regret forever. He was expecting disaster, pain, tears, and a lot of chaos.

But you didn't give him any of that.

Just a sweet nothing.

He could tell at that moment that even though you were in a feverish state and had many reasons to be cruel, you would not be. He realized that you would never yell at him or do anything to hurt him, that the most painful thing you could give him was your silence. And it was then that he confirmed that you loved him the way he thought he did not deserve to be loved: honestly and genuinely.

“Why?” You whispered after a few minutes of silence. “Why are you with me if you don't trust me?”

“I trust you.” He looked you straight in the eye as he spoke, trying to show that he was being completely sincere. “I just don't trust myself.”

You frowned and let out a groan from the discomfort in your forehead. You weren't sure if you were hallucinating because of the cold or if Spencer was really shivering.

“I don't think I'm good enough for you, or deserve you, or that you love me because you want to.” He finally admitted, his voice slightly shaky. He seemed to be in a worse state than you. “It's silly because you've never given me a reason to distrust you.”

“I know you thought I was going to leave. But I didn't want to leave until you asked me to.” You were close to crying, so you pretended to sneeze to hide your watery eyes. You didn't want to show how vulnerable you were. “It was easier to distrust me and blame me like I was just another bad person you catch.”

“Yes, but...” He replied, trying to answer your question.

“Don't talk. It's my turn.”

He nodded after a few seconds, watching you with concern. “Just be careful, you're still sick.��

You already knew how sick you were and how deplorable you probably looked, but you wanted to say it all and stop feeling a lump in your throat.

“You say you trust me, but you really don't, and I've been trying to understand you for almost a year, Spencer. It's been eleven months of trying not to invade your space, avoiding topics that make you tense or your eyes glaze over.” You had to stop to catch your breath and drink some water with his help. “And you think I don't understand you or really know you, but I do. I know how all your dishes are arranged, I know how you like to fold clothes and eat toast, I know that chess reminds you of someone because your eyes get watery every time we see a board, I know about the book signed by Maeve that you hide in your closet and about which you tense up every time I'm near, I know about your nightmares about prison that you don't like to talk about, and about your mother's favorite colors that change every day. I know so much about you, and yet you think I know nothing.”

Once more, there was a long, quiet pause.

“I'm so sorry.” He held your hands as he repeated the same thing, this time with a truly sincere tone. The whole room was still tense as his knees touched the floor, and the apology he gave you seemed like a plea. “I'm really sorry. I know you don't want apologies, you want trust, and I'm going to show you that.”

You didn't say anything as he sat down next to you on the bed.

“I trust you, that's why I always tell you about my cases. And I will tell you about all my past, if you want, because for me you are my present and my future...of course, only if you still want to.”

The eyes of both of you were fixed on the cat you shared, who was purring and lying very comfortably in the middle of the bed. It was nice to know that at least one of the three of you was happy.

“Tell me.”

And just as you asked, he told you everything because he wanted to show you that he trusted you.

This time he really trusted.

[castiwls]

old habits die screaming - p.z & a.d

Paring; patrick x reader, art x ex!reader

Requested; no

Synopsis;you were finally happy. You had a good thing going with someone for the first time in ages but he just had to show up.

Warnings; mentions of pregnancy/babies, infidelity, kinda toxic reader & art I guess

Notes;Not much Patrick in this (sorry) but he is there and plays a large part so I'm tagging it as both of them. also this is long 4.2k words

Masterlist

“I can’t believe this” Patrick laughed moving to run a hand through his hair. “Him. Seriously.” His voice was venomous as he spoke. You sighed, exasperated almost as you sat on the bed.

He looked over to you from his place by the door. “You dated him for four years?” He scoffed. “You didn’t think to tell me this?”

“Patrick.” You sighed moving to stand in front of him. “I was gonna tell you. I was just waiting for the right time.” You gestured to the crib. 

“You and Art.” He shook his head. The idea was so ludicrous to him. “He never mentioned you.”

“We weren’t together when-” You hesitated. “When it happened.” He grimaced slightly at your words, mumbling quietly under his breath.

Placing a hand on his cheek you smiled. “It was a long time ago. You have nothing to worry about.” His eyes met yours and for a moment a flash of vulnerability crossed his face. You weren’t technically his. Sure the baby sleeping only a few feet away was a product of you both but you and him were nothing more than two people raising a baby.

He wanted more. He’d wanted more from the moment he’d seen you hold your daughter for the first time but he refused to mess this up. He refused to push away what was possibly the best thing that ever happened to him.

So he was willing to wait - to play the long game.

He closed his eyes, sucking in a breath. “He wants to talk to you.” The words hung heavy as you faltered.

“What do you mean?”

“It was him at the door.” His eyes hardened slightly as he almost forced the next words from his mouth. “Art.”

Your own breath caught sight. “So he told you.” Patrick nodded. “It’s not every day the guy who ditched you for your ex randomly shows up at your door.” He rolled his eyes.

You could almost imagine it. The look on their faces as they came face to face for the first time in what must have been years. “Did he say why?” You asked gently rubbing your thumb across his cheek.

“No.” He shook his head, his gaze almost burning through you. 

You nodded sighing quietly. “Okay.” You looked over to the crib. “I just got her down. She should sleep for a while.”

Patrick nodded, his face softening as he looked over to the crib. You watched him for a moment, a small smile playing on your lips.

Patrick Zweig may have been many things, but one thing he was not was a bad father.

You pressed your lips to his cheek for a moment before pulling back. “I won't be long.”

His jaw seemed to tense for a moment before he nodded. You hummed softly walking past him and down the stairs. You trailed your hand down the bannister as you thought for a moment. 

This whole situation left your head spinning slightly. You really had planned to tell Patrick about your past with Art. You knew it was something you’d have to approach gently yet apparently that had blown up in your face.

Art was still standing by the couch, though he’d taken a seat and his expression was pinched. When he saw you descending the stairs, his focus shifted and a strange mix of guilt and relief flickered on his face. 

He got to his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked you over, his gaze flickering across your figure.

You smiled gently as you reached the bottom step. You looked him over for a moment. He looked so different yet the same. He’d matured since you’d last seen him but you thought if you squinted enough you could still see the boy who you’d fallen for all those years ago.

 “Hey.” You leaned against the bannister, watching him.

Art returned the greeting, offering a faint and slightly forced smile in return, but it was obvious that whatever he wanted to say was weighing on him. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, his voice quiet enough that he knew Patrick wouldn’t overhear.

You cast a glance to the stairs for a moment just to make sure Patrick hadn’t decided to follow you. “Sure.” You paused for a moment. Whatever this was about you didn't feel like doing it out in the open was the safest idea. “Kitchen?” You offered 

The answer caused the corner of his mouth to twitch slightly in the faintest smile. 

“Yeah.” He murmured in response, leading you into the next room. He kept up a few steps behind as he walked up to the counter, leaning against it as he took you in.

You walked past him choosing to lean against the island opposite him. You left a safe distance between you both as you leaned forward, bracing your arms on the island. “Why are you here?”

Art exhaled slightly, looking up at you in earnest. It had been years since he’d last seen you, but it felt like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. He could still recognize the same fierce and determined look in your eyes. 

“I…” a moment of hesitation before he exhaled again. “I had to see you.”

You scoffed. “Seriously?” You shook your head. “What about your wife?” You spit the smile previously on your lips melting away as your gaze hardened.

Art’s expression dropped ever so slightly. It was exactly what he’d expected from you, and he knew he deserved it. Though part of him hoped you’d be more open to talking. 

“Tashi’s not…she’s fine.” He stated, waving an indifferent hand in the air. 

“Mhm.” You nodded slightly unconvinced. His appearance was more than random. After eight years why now? Why now when you finally had something good did he have to show up?

“How did you even find out where I lived anyway? We haven’t spoken in like eight years.”

His mouth twisted slightly at this, and he almost sheepishly shoved his hands into his pockets. 

“I, uh…” he trailed off, before exhaling. “I may have asked your parents.”

Your eyes widened as your mouth dropped open slightly. “Seriously? You called my parents!”

The look on your face was exactly what he was expecting, a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. He couldn’t say he blamed you for feeling that way, but he hadn’t exactly known another way to contact you. You weren’t exactly buddy buddy.

“Who else was I going to ask?” He retorted in a huff.

“Literally anyone else. What did you tell them?” You laughed in disbelief.

Art’s jaw set a little at the question, knowing how it would sound. 

“I just—“ He hesitated, not wanting to admit it. “…told them I wanted to see you.” He exhaled, and the answer came out slightly sheepish. He held his breath for a moment as you seemed to take in the information.

He knew it was low of him but part of him didn’t care.

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

You paused for a moment. “Why now?”

Art’s expression soured at the question, the reality of it weighing on him. He shifted a little, his gaze dropping as he exhaled. 

“I…” he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. He knew it was stupid but he was struggling to convey it. “I know I don’t have a right to say this, but…I need to talk to you.”

You sighed. “I’m here aren’t I?” You briefly glanced at the door.

“You know he’s fuming right?” You gestured to the doorway.  “I didn’t tell him that I knew about whatever the fuck went down between you both in college.”

The mention of Patrick made Art’s expression falter slightly, and he exhaled. As if on cue, he could faintly hear footsteps pacing upstairs, no doubt Patrick’s irritated footsteps as he was clearly itching to listen in. 

“Let him fume.” Art huffed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I don’t care.”

He knew he sounded like a child but seeing Patrick had done enough to sour his mood for the day. Of all the people in the world, why did you have to choose him?

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I have to care! He’s the father of my child.”

Art’s expression dropped slightly at the mention of you having a child with Patrick. He couldn’t honestly say he was surprised, though he did struggle to not feel a pang of something. He’d always known you were bound to grow up and find someone.

“Do you love him?” The question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

You faltered for a moment. Did you love Patrick? Sure he was the father of your child but what more was he? You’d never passed that line from friends to something more. A large part of you wanted to, but was that what he wanted?

You paused. “I…” you trailed off. “I don’t know yet.”

You shifted. “We’re not actually together.”

The answer didn’t reassure him as much as he would’ve hoped. A part of him still expected you to say yes, and he was surprised when you said something different. 

“You aren’t?” He echoed, shifting against the counter slightly. “Even…even after the baby?”

“I don’t like saying it but she was the result of a one-night stand.” You ran a hand through your hair a small pit of guilt forming in your stomach at your words. “We didn’t exactly plan this,”

Art’s expression twisted slightly at the revelation, and he exhaled. A one-night stand wasn’t necessarily shocking, but it was still somewhat surprising to hear. 

“Ah.” There was a pause, and his shoulders slumped slightly. “So…you guys aren’t…” together? The question was left unfinished, but it was clear what he meant.

“No.”

The answer made his heart leap ever so slightly, though he did his best not to show it. He exhaled, shifting uncomfortably as he tried to keep his expression neutral. 

“Do you…plan to?” He asked cautiously.

You frowned. “I don’t know okay.” 

Art’s expression softened slightly at that, despite the pang in his chest. He didn’t blame you for being conflicted about Patrick. Part of him understood that your situation wasn’t exactly conventional.

There was a moment of a pause, before he spoke up again, slightly hesitant and quiet. “And…what about me?”

“What about you?” You frowned moving to clasp your hands together on the counter.

The expression on his face was strangely vulnerable as his gaze met yours. 

“You know I—“ He paused, shaking his head as if trying to think of the right words to say. “Do you still….” His voice trailed off, and he exhaled. He didn’t know how to finish the question, he didn’t know if he wanted to. 

Do you still love me? There it was.

The words seemed to fall over you like ice. The question made your head spin slightly as your gaze darted from him to your hands and back to him. Your face softened for the first time since you’d entered the kitchen and for a moment he could have sworn you looked slightly concerned.

What was he playing at here?

“You…you’re married.” You whispered 

He knew he was married.

Art had been expecting that response, he’d thought he’d come to terms with the way you most likely wouldn’t reciprocate the statement. But hearing it still stung, and he had to work to keep his expression neutral in light of the response. 

“You didn’t answer the question.” He managed to say, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

You nodded casting a glance out the door. You moved around the island, standing slightly closer to him.

“We dated for four years. Hell, you were my first real love…I’m always gonna hold some sort of feelings for you.” You sighed, your eyes refused to meet his.

Art’s heart leapt at the confession, and he inhaled ever so slightly. Still? After all this time? After everything that happened between you two? 

He had to keep himself under control, swallowing and working to keep his expression steady. As if to compensate, he shifted on his feet, not sure how he felt being this close to you again. 

“Feelings?” He echoed after a moment. “What kind of feelings?”

You rolled your eyes scoffing. “Don’t play dumb.” 

The comment made Art scoff slightly, and he crossed his arms over his chest. In spite of himself, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He couldn’t help it, the way you responded to him was the same as it had always been. 

“I’m not playing dumb.” He shot back, his tone slightly teasing. “I just—“ He paused, a faint smile still on his face as he looked back down at you. “—I want to hear you say it.”

“What you wanna hear me say that I still love you?” Your eyes met his, yet they didn’t hold the coldness they had only a few minutes ago. Your head was spinning almost as you tried to digest what he was saying.

Art’s breath caught, and he paused for a moment. 

Yes

He exhaled again, his expression slightly pained now. He knew it was a stupid thing to want to hear. He was married for Christ’s sake, he shouldn’t want it. But he couldn’t help himself from wanting to hear the words come from you. 

“Yeah.” He found himself blurting out as he leaned forward a little. “Say it.”

“Why?” You shook your head taking a step back. “Why do you care.”

Art paused, trying to think of an answer in spite of himself. He didn’t know why he cared so much, he just did. 

“I just…” He trailed off and exhaled. “I just want to hear you say it, just so—“

The word caught in his throat, and he hesitated. Just so I know it’s not too late.

He couldn’t say that, he couldn’t admit that.

You thought for a moment. Did you still love him? 

You’d barely spared him a single thought in the last eight years yet now…now actually standing in front of him you doubted that you’d truly gotten over him. 

Flipping the situation on him you glanced to the door before looking back to him. “Do you still love me?” You pursed your lips watching him closely.

Art’s gaze flickered as your question. The answer was yes, he did still love you. If anything it was more than before, and that’s what scared him. 

“I…” He paused, again struggling to find the right words. “…yeah. I do,” he admitted shakily, the words almost a whisper.

Your breath hitched. You hadn’t expected that. “Then why did you marry her?” You couldn’t bring yourself to say her name. The thought of her alone left a bad taste in your mouth.

Art almost wished you hadn’t asked the question. He felt his body almost go tense with the question, and he swallowed. 

He didn’t know how to explain to you that he’d been desperate and scared, that he’d felt like he was losing everything and that Tashi was an escape from it. He didn’t know how to admit that he wished he hadn’t done it, that marrying her had been the biggest mistake he’d ever made. 

“I…” He started weakly. “…I thought I loved her

You shook your head staring at him dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

Art exhaled, a hand going to run through his hair. He couldn’t look at you, he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eye. 

“Everything was changing.” He said quietly. “And you were—“ He cut himself off, as if not wanting to say it. “And you were gone, and I just…” 

He exhaled, struggling to find the right response. “I didn’t know what to do.”

You sighed nodding slightly. “If you’d called I would have picked up.” You let the words hang for a moment.

The words hit Art like a truck. The worst part was you were right. You would’ve picked up if he’d called you. If only he’d had the insight to call you if he’d had the courage to call you.

“I know.” His shoulders slumped slightly, and he sighed, looking down. “Believe me, I know.”

Then why didn't you?

The words hung unsaid in the air as you stared at him. “Is that all?” You sighed after a moment.

Art exhaled again, shifting uncomfortably. He wanted to say no because he knew it was far from all he had to say. He wanted to say I’m sorry and I should’ve called and I wish I hadn’t married Tashi and on and on and on. 

Because he was still scared, he was still terrified of losing you for good. 

“Yeah.” He blurted out in spite of himself. “That’s all.”

You nodded. “Okay.” You allowed yourself to smile as you reached over to rub a hand up his arm. The touch almost made Art shiver, and he had to force himself not to lean into it. Your words stung a bit, a sharp pain in his chest. 

You were quiet for a moment before softly saying “I’m sorry it didn’t end differently.”

“I’m sorry too.” He whispered, his gaze flickering up to look at you. It was at that moment that he realized how close you were to him, and he had to stop himself from pulling you even closer.

Your hand paused for a moment as your eyes met his. Your heart seemed to stutter as you let out a breath. Art’s eyes darted between yours, his expression torn. He knew he shouldn’t, he knew he needed to pull away. He was married, he had a daughter. 

There were a hundred reasons he shouldn’t.

Yet none of them seemed to matter when you were standing so close to him.

Your breath seemed to catch for a moment as you felt a slight pull.

You shifted ever closer, your eyes still locked on his as the world seemed to almost fade away. The guilt began to claw at your brain. It screamed at you to pull back, to turn around and walk away.

To go back to the father of your child. But you didn’t

Art’s breathing hitched as you moved closer, and his mind practically went blank. The logical part of him knew he should stop you, he should pull away and step back because *this was wrong*, but he didn’t. It was as if he was paralyzed by the proximity. 

“We…” He managed to say weakly, his voice barely a whisper. “Shouldn’t.”

“I know.” You whispered sinking your teeth into your lip. “You married and I have a baby with your ex-best friend.” you looked down for a moment.

you were so fucked

Art swallowed as his gaze flickered down to your mouth, and he inhaled slightly. The words should be a reason to move, should be a reason for him to step back, because you were right, he was married and you had a baby and you weren’t even his anymore. 

But Art didn’t move away, and something about it just felt right. 

“I know.” He repeated your response, his voice coming out slightly strangled.

You nodded before dropping your hand from his arm and starting to move back.

The guilt of the situation beginning to take over. You couldn’t do that to Patrick - you wouldn't do that. 

Art wanted to swear as you moved away. Stop being logical, he wanted to say, because he knew that he should feel guilty but somehow he didn’t. 

Instead, he reached out without thinking, his hand wrapped loosely around your wrist as he gently tugged you back.

His touch burned almost. The heat travels up your arm and over the rest of your body. The touch seemed to dull the voice in your head as you swallowed thickly before you silently met his gaze. 

Art’s heart was racing in his chest as his hand was wrapped around your wrist, the feeling of your skin against his sent a little jolt through him. His eyes never left yours as he gently tugged you back towards him. 

The logical part of his mind was screaming at him to let you go, that he shouldn’t be doing this. But for the first time in years, he ignored it.

Your lips parted. “Art-“

The way you said his name sent a shiver down his spine, and Art found himself shifting even closer to you. The guilt and the fear almost completely faded out of his mind at that moment, and it was only you. 

“Shh…” He murmured, his breath coming out shaky. “Don’t talk.”

You swallowed thickly as you felt your heat beat impossibly faster. His chest pressed against yours as you craned your neck slightly to look up at him. Your mind raced.

Art’s heart was racing in his chest, his breathing coming in a ragged, uneven pace as you stood so close to him. You were pressed against his chest, and it was as if almost instantly, any sort of hesitancy or guilt he’d been feeling before was gone, replaced with an almost desperate desire. 

You tilted your head up to look at him, and Art leaned down ever so slightly so his face hovered directly above yours.

You froze.

His breath ghosted against your lips as you blinked unable to move.

Art’s grip on your wrist loosened, his hand moving up to cradle the side of your face. 

The air between you was so unbearably charged. You could almost hear both of your hearts racing as Art hovered his face just above yours, his breath fanning against your face as he hesitated. 

His thumb traced a gentle, light pattern over your skin as he paused as if silently asking for permission.

All your morals seemed to melt away at that moment. The gesture alone had your knees feeling weak as the guilt seemed to fully melt away.

You nodded slightly, your breath catching.

The instant you nodded, it was like a switch flicked on inside Art. Before you could even register it, his lips were against yours. 

It was desperate, and needy, and almost hungry as if he was trying to make up for three years worth of missed kisses at that moment. His hand not on your face moved to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.

You gasped quietly a hand going to fist his hair as your other fell to the edge of the counter. Your body moulded against his perfectly as he pressed you back into the counter firmly.

A little gasp left Art’s mouth as you tangled your hand in his hair, and the feeling seemed to send a wave of heat rushing through him. Feeling you against him was like taking a breath of air after drowning, and it just made him want more. 

Art tilted his head, his lips pressing more firmly against yours as he pressed against you.

The kiss only seemed to grow more desperate as time went on. You were both seemingly trying to make up for lost time as the world seemed to disappear until it was only you both left. 

He needed you closer. The hand on the small of your back was keeping you practically pressed against him, and he let out a low gasp into your mouth as if he was trying to taste you. 

He practically lifted you off the floor, setting you down on the counter and standing between your legs.

You shifted closer to him, your hand slipping from his hair to the nape of his neck and your other one lay on his shoulder.

The world around you seemed to narrow down to nothing more than the two of you.  The feeling of his lips against yours was intoxicating so much that for a moment you almost forgot that 8 years had passed. 

That you both had commitments to other people.

Art’s head was spinning. He couldn’t think of anything, the only thing going through his head was you, you, you, and the way your body felt against his. 

He needed more, and his hands roamed over your frame, touching your waist, your hips, your thighs, your cheeks, anything he could reach. 

Just this once, a little voice in his head whispered. Just this once.

So lost in your own world you both missed the footsteps making their way down the stairs.

Both of you were completely oblivious to the footsteps, Art’s focus was solely on you. One of his hands was firmly on your waist, fingers digging into your skin as if he was afraid you’d disappear. 

The other was gently resting against your cheek, his thumb tracing a light pattern over your skin as he pressed you as close to him as he could.

A small content noise left you as he pulled back for a moment. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath before pressing your lips back to his again.

The kitchen door opening fell on deaf ears.

you both failed to notice for a moment until the sound of someone clearing their throat broke through your haze.

Patrick looked pissed.

His jaw was clenched tightly as he stepped fully into the kitchen, shutting the door quietly, and his glare flicked from Art, to you, and back again. 

“Having a good time?” He finally said through gritted teeth, his expression hard and sharp.

[himexyandere]

As promised, here's my yandere!octopus OC! His name is Dr. Mikka Lapan, and he's a mimic octopus/marine biologist. No one knows his secret: not even you, his faithful assistant.

Not yet, at least.

“[Your Name].” 

“Yes, Dr. Lapan?” 

“Do you like sea creatures?” 

Equal parts bemused and amused, you ceased shuffling through the papers on your desk and turned your full attention to your boss. 

“No offense, doctor, but I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t.” 

Dr. Lapan gave a light hum in response, seemingly satisfied with your answer. With no further questions, you went back to reorganizing the messy stack of research papers the doctor kept in the lab. According to him, he had his own system for remembering where everything was meant to go. Needless to say, you didn’t exactly believe him. 

A few minutes had passed, and you found yourself sneaking a peak at the doctor, wondering what prompted him to ask such a question in the first place. He was uncharacteristically quiet, peering blankly into one of the many tanks situated in the far corner of the lab. His hand was pressed against the cold glass, fingers aimlessly tracing along with the movements of the creatures dwelling within. 

“Doctor?” You called out to him. 

Without turning to look at you—or even stopping his motions—he responded, absentmindedly, “Yes?” 

Concern creased your brow, leading you to stand up and fluidly cross the room until you were standing beside him. His eyes were still fixated on the tank before him, the soft bluish light mirrored in the thick lenses of his glasses. 

“You seem preoccupied today, Dr. Lapan.” 

“Do I?” 

“Yeah— is something wrong..?” 

Your voice seemed to be just what he needed to be brought back to reality, as he finally turned to look at you with a guilty smile on his face, eyebrows upturned. 

“Nothing is wrong. I’m sorry for worrying you, dear [Your Name],” Dr. Lapan’s eyes softened. “As always, I appreciate your assistance and concern. We should get back to work now, shouldn’t we?” 

Having returned to his usual chipper attitude, you saw no reason to press him any further, opting instead to push his out-of-character behavior to the far recesses of your mind. 

That night, you dreamt of the ocean. 

Alone and drifting amongst the unforgiving waves, dark and opaque in a way that not even the moon could ever hope to illuminate. Your limbs wouldn’t move. Your mind was racing, but you remained still — even as one particularly zealous wave carried you further and further away from the shoreline. 

You willed your hand to move, outstretched toward the receding sands that were becoming blurrier by the second. Something—or more accurately, somethings—cold and slimy wrapped around you; limbs and all, until you were fully encumbered and immobile. The thought to scream came next, naturally, though it was all too soon thwarted by another thing coming up to cover your mouth in cold sliminess.  “If I could have you for more than a night… If I—”

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 5 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob was willing to try to be friends with Anna, but he knew his feelings wouldn't go away overnight. The more time he spent around her, the harder it seemed to make that happen. When Bradley and Jake make a suggestion about Bob's dating agenda, Anna doesn't seem crazy about it. And Bob ends up even more confused by her actions than her words. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, mentions of cheating, eventually 18+

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Being friends with Anna was one of the worst things Bob had ever had to do. But being around her while still keeping his distance was better than the alternative, so he had to do it. When she texted him, he responded immediately, and he couldn't stop thinking about how much he'd like to hold her hand.

She was all smiles when he saw her again a few days later. This time, she was the one who invited him out for a cup of coffee on Saturday morning, and he jumped at the chance to go. After cancelling his breakfast plans with Mickey with the promise that he'd be at the bar before Dungeons & Dragons, he hopped in his truck and drove off to meet Anna.

He was early, but she was already there. "Hey, Bob," she said, waving to him from a small table near the back as he approached. She already had two drinks in front of her, and Bob's brow creased in something like annoyance as he made his way to her.

"I was going to pay for your coffee," he said, meeting her brown eyes as he dropped slowly into the empty seat. 

"You paid the other day," she replied, sliding the hot tea a little closer to him. "Plus, you bought me two books."

All Bob could think about as he looked at her tentative smile was the fact that he wanted nothing more than to buy Anna every book she wanted for the rest of her life. Massive anthologies and slim romance novels and poetry collections and autobiographies... he wanted to get her every single one that sparked her interest. He wanted to catch her attention in just the same way literature did. He wanted to be what she curled up in bed with after a long day.

Bob cleared his throat. "Thanks for the tea, but next time I'm paying."

"Deal," she said softly before blowing on her hot coffee with another smile. 

"Great. In that case, we can go out for an expensive lobster dinner," he told her with a little grin. "You already agreed."

Anna looked at him as she took a sip. "Is an expensive lobster dinner something friends would enjoy together?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

Bob's heart started beating a little faster. "I think friends can do whatever they want."

She studied him for a moment before reaching into her tote bag and pulling out a book. "This is for you. It's from my own personal stash, so it's a little worn out, but I thought you might like to borrow it."

When he accepted the dog eared paperback copy of The Remains of the Day, her fingers brushed against his. "Thank you. I'll add it to my list of Dr. Webber recommendations."

She blushed slightly, and her hand went to her cheek as she said, "Dr. Webber. Sometimes I still can't believe I finished my doctorate after putting it on hold for so long."

Bob sipped his tea. "Why did you put it on hold? It's easy to see how much it means to you."

Anna chewed on her lip before she softly said, "I made some bad decisions, but I won't be doing that again. Do you want to split a croissant?" 

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

"So," Jessica said, heaving a deep sigh at lunchtime on Monday. She looked like she had just received some devastating news, and when Anna glanced toward her other friend holding her tie dyed lunchbox, she found a similar expression on her face as well. "It's true? You and Bob are friends?"

"You don't have to say it like that," Anna replied, dropping down onto the bench between the two of them with the weird looking tree behind her. "You were the ones who encouraged me to make a new friend in the first place!"

"We thought you'd snap out of it after like ten minutes alone with him again," Advanced Calculus said as she bit into the pretty lunch that Bradley had clearly packed for her. "Poor Bob."

Anna scuffed the toe of her old, beat up shoe along the concrete in front of her as she sipped her can of ginger ale. "It's not like I'm some amazing option or something," she muttered, remembering how adorable he looked when she handed him her own book for him to borrow. "Bob could do better."

"Anna!" Jessica gasped. "Don't say that about yourself! It's simply not true! You're the best!"

Anna swallowed hard, embarrassment starting to fill her up as tears pricked the backs of her eyes. She wasn't used to being around anyone who said kind words to or about her. The fact that she almost couldn't handle hearing them was making her feel vulnerable. "I just mean... I'm not really emotionally available, so it would be in his best interest to stop returning my crush on him." She was fairly certain she wouldn't be able to stop her own feelings at this point.

The other two women were quiet for a beat, and Anna started to get nervous, but then there was a fancy container of veggies and some sort of dip being held out in front of her. She helped herself to a carrot stick as her friend finally asked, "Are you ready to talk about Kevin?"

She crunched hard into the carrot before saying, "I don't like to talk about cheaters."

Jessica made a disgusted sound and said, "That's probably half of the male population. But... I think it's safe to talk about Bob." Anna groaned, and Jessica quickly added, "Okay, fine, I'll stop now!"

"Kevin cheated on you?" Advanced Calculus said, cutting right to the chase. "What a fucking dick."

"Yeah," Anna whispered, wondering why this lunch meetup was becoming so emotional. "It went on for years, as far as I can tell. I was just too busy working and trying to stay above water to notice at first. He's... still with her. I think." But Anna knew the truth; all Kevin really did was find an upgrade and stick with her. He found another medical doctor with a thriving career, just like himself.

"Men are disgusting," Jessica said ferociously. "I was going through a bit of a rough patch when I met Jake, so keep your head up, okay? There are some good ones out there."

Anna snorted. "I think the two of you found the only good ones left."

"Nah. But I do think they might all be in the Navy."

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

Bob was surprised on Friday night when he got to the Hard Deck a little later than usual and found Anna there. The deep copper of her hair was illuminated by the lights above the pool table as she stood next to Jake, sipping a glass of ginger ale. She looked like she belonged here now, even though it was just her second visit, and when Bob got closer, he could hear her asking Jake about him.

"So everyone has a call sign? In the entirety of the United States Navy?"

"No," Jake replied with a chuckle. "Not everyone."

"And your call sign is Hangman? And Bradley's is Rooster?"

"That's right."

"What's Bob's?"

Bob smiled softly, enjoying the fact that she was asking about him without realizing he was standing right there. "It's just Bob," he said, making her jump a bit in surprise as she looked up and found him immediately with her dark eyes.

She examined him with a soft smile on her lips. "Just Bob. I think I like that better. I'd probably want to be just Anna if I had a call sign. Do you want to play pool with me? We can lose to Jessica together."

It took Bob a second to put everything together in his mind. Anna wasn't making fun of his call sign where everyone else usually would have been. And now she was holding out a pool cue toward him with a hopeful look on her face that was slowly starting to fade away as he stood motionless. "Yes," he finally said, reaching out to take it from her. Just like at the coffee shop, their fingers met briefly, and Bob just wanted to hold her hand in the worst way. And maybe try to count her freckles. And maybe kiss her. He cleared his throat. "I'd love to play. Losing to Jessica is so much fun."

"It's everyone's favorite way to spend a Friday night!" Jessica replied, brandishing a Sam Adams in one hand and a blue chalk cube in the other.

"No way, Smart Girl. I like what comes later even better," Jake replied, wrapping his arm around her waist, and Bob had to look away as he kissed his girlfriend. Jake had been talking about engagement rings in the locker room the other day, and Bob was sworn to secrecy. 

He promised not to say anything. He wouldn't. The two of them belonged together, and Bob could tell how happy they would be, but he still felt nauseatingly jealous of their love. Especially when Jessica kissed Jake and whispered, "Save the dirty talk for later."

Bob's eyes found Anna's as she got the table set up. He was going to work really hard at this friendship thing, but someday when he inevitably saw her with another guy's arms wrapped around her, hugging her, he was certain he was going to have to excuse himself from her presence. But for now, all he could do was look at her.

"Do I have something on my face?" she asked, touching her cheek after she set the eight ball in place.

"Just a cute smile," Bob replied, and then he had the distinct desire to disappear as said smile grew a little bigger before she pressed her lips together. Clearly he couldn't be trusted not to make things weird. "Let's play."

They were about five minutes into the game when Bradley and his wife walked over, and Bob was really enjoying the way Anna accidentally bumped into him. Twice. But then he was reminded of the other topic of conversation that had been brought up in the locker room at work.

"Hey Bob, you still thinking about downloading a dating app?" Bradley asked him casually. Anna fumbled and dropped the blue chalk that she was holding. Bob picked it up and handed it to her, but she didn't even meet his eyes when she took it.

"Uh, I might," he replied, watching Anna miss her shot at the nine ball by a mile. Bradley and Jake were the ones who mentioned the app to begin with, and when Bob showed the slightest bit of interest, they ran with the idea. "Still undecided."

"I can help you make a profile," Bradley said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You'll just have to let me know if you'd rather find your soulmate or be knee deep in as much pussy as you can handle."

Bob felt his cheeks warm up as Bradley's wife smacked him on the chest and told him to be quiet. When he chanced a glance at Anna, she was already looking at him with wide, brown eyes. Truthfully, Bob kind of wanted to find his soulmate and be getting a lot of pussy, but just from that one person. 

"Can we talk about this later?" he muttered, sinking the nine ball for his team when it was finally his turn.

"Sure. We can download it later," Bradley said with a smirk that didn't quite sit well with Bob. That wasn't what he meant at all, and now Anna wasn't even looking at him. It took him bringing her another glass of ginger ale for her to even acknowledge he was still there.

"Thanks," she said softly as she took it from him. They'd been trounced by Jess and Jake, and now they were standing off to the side together. "You know," she added, "if you download a dating app, you'd probably get a lot more attention if you put up a photo of you in your uniform. Or one of those jumpsuit things."

Bob shook his head and looked at his feet. "You'd swipe right?" he asked before he could think better of it.

Anna laughed and said, "Honestly? I'd swipe right if you were wearing your Dungeons & Dragons shirt."

Once again, he didn't know what to say. She only wanted to be friends with him, but this was the second time she told him she found him attractive. "It's called a flight suit," he said, waiting for her to meet his eyes. When she did, she looked confused. "Not a jumpsuit."

She smiled again at the clarification. "Well, whatever they are, I like them. And the call signs. Especially yours. You seem like you don't need a lot of fancy stuff. Just Bob."

"Just Bob," he whispered. He didn't need anything fancy, but right now he sure wanted Anna.

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

On Tuesday at lunchtime, Anna was the first one to the bench, and she had to sit there awkwardly and hope that her friends showed up. She could be back in her office, alone, thinking about what she wanted to do in her next Feminist Literature lecture. She was about to text them when she glanced up as Jessica's glasses reflected the bright sunlight, and both women were heading her way. Then she saw her beat up copy of The Remains of the Day held in the same hand that was holding the tie dye lunchbox.

"This is from Bob. He gave it to Bradley to give to me, and I had to promise to give it to you."

Anna took the book from her and whispered, "Thank you." Had Bob already finished reading another of her recommended books? Was he really this perfect? That's when she noticed there was a slip of paper peeking out between the pages, and she barely heard her two friends talking as she pulled it out.

Anna,

You really need a bookmark. All of the dog eared pages made me feel terrible for this poor book as I read it. I enjoyed the story immensely, but seriously, you need to stop folding the pages over to save your spot. Unless it was your intention to bring an element of horror into the tale? If so, well done. Also, now that I have your attention, do you feel like grabbing a drink on Thursday evening? We could go to Chippy's and eat some of the best peanuts in the world. Just text me and let me know.

Bob

She whimpered softly. Everything this man did delighted her. She wanted to recommend a dozen more books to him if it meant she could have one more little handwritten note to tuck away. Or to use as the bookmark that would keep him from stressing out about the pages.

"Earth to Anna," Jessica said, waving a hand in front of her face and making her finally look up. 

"Bob asked me to go to Chippy's with him," she blurted out, holding the note tight in her hand. 

"Oh!" Advanced Calculus gasped. "You should go!"

"No," Advanced Physics whined. "That was supposed to be a girls' night outing!"

"I want her to go. It's the only thing that will get Bob off the dating app. I can't believe Bradley brought that up in the first place. He doesn't know a damn thing about it."

"I want her to go with us for the first time!"

Anna looked back and forth between the two of them, that familiar whiplash feeling returning as they argued with her in the middle. But in the meantime, she got her phone out and texted Bob.

If we go to Chippy's without Jessica, I think she might have a fit.

Bob must have been on his lunch break as well, because he wrote back a minute later while the two of them were still arguing. 

Bob Floyd: All the more reason to do it, really.

Anna laughed quietly as she told him about her office hours on Thursday, promising to meet him for some life changing peanuts at 7:15. Then she put her phone away and announced, "I'm going with Bob. The three of us can go to Chippy's on a different night."

Jessica looked mildly annoyed while her other friend looked smug and said, "Get him off the dating app. Those women will eat that sweet man alive."

But Anna knew she couldn't and shouldn't even try to do anything about that. Friends were supposed to be supportive of each other, and Bob was her friend. Just her friend. But when she thought about how much attention he was probably getting, it just made her so sad. She could have had that. She could have been the one with his beautiful eyes focused on her while she inhaled his delicious scent.

Maybe she'd just make one quick comment about the app when they were together. "I'll see what I can do."

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

Of course Bob would get dismissed early on Thursday when he had nothing better to do than wait around until it was time to go to Chippy's with Anna. He skipped the locker room shower, opting to head home to get ready instead, and it looked like Jake and Bradley were of a similar mind as they walked out to the parking lot at the same time as him.

"You said you'd share your lasagna recipe," Bradley said, annoyance laced in his voice. "Sugar really likes it."

"I said I would think about it," Jake replied smoothly. "It's not like you need help getting laid. It's not like you're Bob. No offense, Bob."

He just sighed and glared at the blonde. "I don't need help getting laid."

"Sure, pal," Jake replied as he approached his truck. "But I'll give you a free tip anyway. I'm going to go home and shower and pack up dinner. Then I'm going to stop and get some flowers for Jess, because girls like that shit. Then I'm going to her office hours where the combination of a homemade meal and pretty flowers will have her pulling her panties off as soon as I walk in."

"Please," Bob moaned. His stomach turned at the thought of Jessica, who made up a ridiculous voice for her D&D character, removing any article of her clothing. "Please stop. She's my friend."

"So is Anna," Bradley said with a smirk. "Did you download Tinder yet? Or are you going to stop and get some flowers and man up before you go to Chippy's?"

He didn't know how to explain to them that the last thing he wanted to do was push her away, and he was almost certain that a romantic gesture like giving her flowers would do just that. He also wished he hadn't even told them that he and Anna were going to Chippy's together. It was another excuse to see her, sure, but he was convinced she'd really like the peanuts.

"I have it under control," Bob muttered, passing Bradley's Bronco and heading for his own truck. Anna told him she'd made some bad decisions in her life, and he wanted to know more. Maybe going out tonight would be a way for her to open up to him a little bit. He knew from real life as well as some of the books he read that love could be built on solid friendships, but he tried not to tell himself that something like that could work out for him. Friendship was enough. 

"Robert!" Suzanne called from her open front door as he walked up the path. "You're home early."

"Hey, Suzanne. Yeah, got out early today."

"You know what you should do, Robert? You should spend this extra time getting on a dating app."

He paused with his key in the lock of his own front door and listened to the game show that she was watching as the sound filtered outside. "Thanks so much for that amazing idea, Suzanne. Have a great night."

It didn't take him too long to get ready, and while he definitely didn't want to show up at Chippy's with a bouquet of flowers, he came up with another idea. A better idea. And if he could manage to locate Anna's office in the English building, he would meet her there.

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

Anna had one student show up to her office hours, and even then, it was just so he could complain about how they were only reading 'books by girls' in English 522.

"It's Feminist Literature," she explained slowly. "The main themes and topics revolve around equality of the sexes and advocacy for women's rights. The female point of voice is what we are exploring this semester."

"But why is it all chicks? I don't really like these books."

She sighed and said, "Everything has been on the syllabus since the first lecture, and I haven't deviated from it. If you don't think you can handle it, then I suggest your drop the class."

When he finally left, she groaned and put her head down on her desk. Just a few more minutes, and she could go meet Bob. Bob Floyd. The man who read books by authors of every kind. The man who would probably enjoy sitting in one of her lectures. The man of her dreams.

"Fuck you, Kevin," she whispered before picking her head up and fixing her braid. When there was another knock on her door, she jumped in her seat. "Come in!"

And then there he was, pushing the door open and filling up her tiny office with his broad shoulders and handsome features. Bob smiled at her, and she immediately believed everything would be okay forever. "Hi," she whispered, standing up behind her desk, the large piece of furniture the only thing between them now. "Bob."

Then her eyes dipped down as he held out his hand. "These are for you." He was holding a six pack of ginger ale cans, and it was then that the smell of clean soap and hot tea invaded her senses. "An office warming gift."

"You're sweet," she said softly, and he smiled as she accepted the treat from him. "Thanks."

He just shrugged and looked around the room. "Nice place you got here."

Anna laughed. "You don't have to lie about it. You're tall enough that you could touch that wall with your hand and the opposite wall with your foot at the same time," she said, pointing from one side of the space to the other.

"It's still nice," he told her as he adjusted his glasses. "You must have two hundred books in here. And it smells like a library. And bread?"

She nodded and said, "That's because I'm near the cafeteria. You get used to it."

Bob's laughter and genuine smile had her whole body clenching. "Smells better than jet fuel. You ready to go to Chippy's?"

"Yeah." It came out like a whine. This felt like a date. She wanted it to be a date. She wanted to live in an alternate universe where she could feasibly date someone. As she set her ginger ale cans down and picked up her office key and tote bag, she started to make her way to the door. When she stopped, Bob bumped into her, his hands landing on her waist.

"Sorry," he muttered, and he put some space between their bodies immediately.

"It's okay," she replied, pulling the door closed and locking it. Anna couldn't control the thundering of her heart as they walked side by side down the hallway and stepped outside into the cool, evening air. What was she supposed to talk about with her friend Bob when she just kept thinking about his hands on her body? She cleared her throat as they walked quietly down the sidewalk toward the bar. "Did you wear your jumpsuit at work today?"

Bob's smirk made her giggle. "Flight suit, Anna. For someone who has a bunch of friends in the Navy, you could really use a tutorial. And yes, I did wear my flight suit."

She bit her lip and tried to picture him in it. "I liked your khaki uniform with all the pins on it."

His brow scrunched up as he looked at her, leading the way toward Chippy's. "When did you see my service khakis?"

Oh shit. She'd been staring at the selfie he sent from the bookstore so frequently, she just outed herself. "Um. You sent a picture to me. A while ago."

His features smoothed out as he held the bar door open for her to walk past him. "Right." His voice sounded a little deeper as she passed him. "Forgot about that."

She sure hadn't, and she never ever would. Scrambling for something to say as she walked across the sticky floor littered with peanut shells toward a group of students drinking beers, she blurted out, "I thought all Naval uniforms were navy blue."

When he pulled out a stool for her at a high top table, she took a seat. His voice was close to her ear as he said, "Your tutorial begins now. Can't have you embarrassing yourself like this next time you come to the Hard Deck. You want a beer?"

She wasn't much of a drinker, and the last thing she needed was something that would amplify the way her heart felt like it was beating erratically right now, but she simply nodded. Then Bob disappeared, leaving her really wondering what this tutorial might include. She tracked his movements back toward the bar where an older man with a deep scowl on his face started to reach for two pint glasses. Bob pulled his wallet out of his snug pocket, and Anna was too distracted to realize that he was paying for something for her. Again. 

"Damn it," she groaned, realizing how quickly she was slipping tonight. She wanted Bob to explain in great detail everything about the United States Navy while she ate peanuts. She wanted to feed him some and let her fingertips brush his lips. "Stop it." He was returning to the table now, and she watched as two women at another table pointed at him subtly. He was so attractive, and the way he was carrying two full glasses cupped in one big palm left her dizzy.

"Here you go," he said, handing her one of the beers along with a big dish of peanuts. "Best peanuts in San Diego. I swear."

Anna took one and smashed it open as she said, "I'll be the judge of such things." Bob looked really sure of himself as he sat down opposite her, and as soon as she tasted it, she knew he was right. It was roasted to perfection with just the perfect amount of salt. "Oh, god."

"Told you," he replied, reaching into the dish for a few. "But don't tell Penny I said that. I don't want to break her heart."

And that was just thing about Bob. Anna would have believed him if he said he never wanted to break anyone's heart. His fingers brushed against her as they both reached for more peanuts at the same time, but he ended up scooting them a little closer to her. 

"There are some that are navy blue," he said, his eyes bright behind his glasses. "Uniforms, that is."

"I knew it!"

"But we hardly ever wear them," he added with a soft smile. "We wear the white ones even less frequently."

"White ones?" Anna asked as she took a sip of her beer, eyes fixed on Bob's fingers as he worked a peanut out of the shell. She could write poetry about his hands, they were just that graceful and strong looking. He was talking, but she could barely keep up with the conversation, and when she set her beer down, it was half empty. 

"But that's just when I fly with Phoenix," he was saying. "I've been getting tossed around from pilot to pilot recently, which I hate. But my flight suits are what I wear the most, followed by my khaki uniform."

"It looked nice on you," Anna whispered loudly, surprised that she said it out loud. Again. 

"You said that before," Bob replied, his cheeks flushed a delicious shade of pink. Would he feel warm to the touch? Why was it so hot inside Chippy's? Why did Anna agree to come here without the girls?

She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants, wishing she wasn't so awkward. "Why did you study aviation? You seem like you'd have been a spectacular English major."

Bob shrugged. "A free ride to the Naval Academy is prestigious enough that you just don't turn that down. Where did you get your PhD?"

Anna hated answering this question, but she'd be honest with Bob. "I started out at Princeton, but it was expensive, and I decided to use my money for... other things. I finished at a state school. A New Jersey state school."

"But you finished," he said with a smile as she gulped down the rest of her beer in one go. "You've got more letters after your name than I do."

Anna laughed, because he wasn't wrong. "But you've got more letters before your name than I do. Lieutenant Floyd."

"No, I don't," he said easily. "Dr. Webber."

"Shit," she croaked, really feeling the beer now. "You're right. That sounds so badass."

"It is badass," he promised as Anna's head swam with warmth and desire and contentment. He cracked open another peanut, slipping it between his parted lips. She leaned in a little closer, and his eyes went wide at what she said. 

"Did you download a dating app? I don't think you should. The guys don't know what they're talking about, and you don't really need it. You could get anyone."

Bob studied her as she tried to keep her expression neutral, fingers spinning her empty glass around nervously in front of her. "No," he said slowly. "I didn't download an app. If I'm being honest, I think I'm still hung up on the idea of meeting someone and falling for them naturally. Like accidentally bumping into them in a bookstore." Her mouth went dry as he softly said, "That's kind of what I always wanted."

It was her. She was the one he bumped into before they even knew they had mutual friends. She was that girl from the bookstore. Why couldn't she have this? She wanted it, too! And now he thought she didn't. 

"It's okay," he said before finishing off his beer. "We can be friends." He set the glass down, and Anna felt his gaze move from her lips up to her eyes. "You ready to go?"

"Yes," she whispered, slowly reaching for her things. "Thanks for the beer."

Bob shrugged as he helped her down from the stool. "Any excuse to come to Chippy's."

As they walked past the clusters of students on their way toward the door, Anna waved to the bartender. "Does he always look that cranky?"

"Ol' Chippy? Yes. Always."

She made a point to wave a little more vigorously as Bob's hand found her side and guided her outside while she laughed. "Sorry, I'm a bit of a lightweight, and now it's my goal to get him to laugh."

"I have a feeling you'll be working on that mission for a while," Bob said close to her ear. "Are you drunk?"

"No," she whispered. "Just silly."

Bob couldn't seem to help himself as he chuckled and led her along the sidewalk with one hand resting softly between her shoulder blades. "I don't really know what that means yet when it comes to you, Anna. Let me drive you home."

"Okay. It's not far," she replied, trying to imagine what it would be like if Bob ever saw the inside of her tiny apartment as she rattled off her street address. She climbed into his truck with a little bit of help, and then he reached for her seatbelt before pausing and placing it in her hand. 

"Buckle up," he told her as she stared down into his face.

"I will," she said slowly, narrowing her eyes. "If you promise not to download that app."

His lips twitched into a smile. "You have my word."

Bob walked around the front of his truck before climbing in and starting up the engine. He played with the radio dials while he drove as Anna breathed in her surroundings. Everything smelled good in here where Bob's fresh soap scent seemed to blend with the tang of jet fuel. She had to press her thighs together as she imagined running her nose along the front of his flight suit before he got himself cleaned up after a shift at work. 

"Oh no," she whispered as Bob pulled up to a red light a few streets from where she lived. Sky Writing's poetry swirled around in her mind, and she was afraid she might have whispered the words out loud when Bob turned and looked at her in surprise. 

"What did you just say?" he asked, eyeing her closely.

She thought about the words she had memorized once again. Passion pulses through my veins like a wild river. Binding me to you in a dance of fire.

"Nothing," she told him as the car behind his truck honked, still sitting after the light turned green.

When he parked at the curb in front of her building, he turned toward her with curious eyes and whispered, "I thought you said-"

But Anna had reached her limit with Bob. She released her seatbelt and leaned toward him, feeling more and more sure of herself the closer she got to his mouth. Then she pressed her lips gently to his and whimpered as she kissed him. Bob reached out and ran his graceful fingers along her cheek, and Anna melted into him before he abruptly pulled away. 

"Anna. I don't think this is something friends do," he croaked, voice raspy enough that she was forced to consider that she just kissed him.

"I'm so sorry," she gasped, hauling herself back across the seat and throwing the door open. "I'm so sorry, Bob."

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

I can't decide if that was a mistake or not on Anna's part. But the longing got to be too much for her. She wants him badly. I hope she doesn't go into hiding. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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[merthosus]

It hurts, doesn't it?

Summary: After going through heaven and hell with your boyfriend Diego, you couldn't trust your eyes as you saw him an fives girlfriend going in a date with each other. Five told you he had a bad feeling about this so you both followed them in Diegos Van. Watching them cheating on you both, made you feel things you never knew you could.

This Story was inspired by this TikTok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeKLJqmX/ (But I changed the roles a little bit)

"I understand you, down to your bones"

With each passing minute, you sink more and more into the seat of the old SUV that belonged to Diego. Just like your heart, your body slid further and further down to make what you saw unseen. “I can't believe it Five,” you mumble to yourself. Five is sitting next to you, his hands clenched into fists, eyes fixed on what is happening in front of him. He didn't answer you at first, too busy banging his leg uncontrollably on the floor. “I knocked the stars out of the sky for her and this is the thanks you get?” he says angrily.

You are watching two people eating in a restaurant. You've noticed for a few weeks that Diego has been behaving strangely and it was only when Five approached you to tell you that something wasn't going right with his girlfriend that you realized it.

You sit in silence for a moment, the disbelief weighing heavily in your chest as you glance between Five and the scene unfolding in front of you. Diego and Five's girlfriend were laughing, their body language too comfortable, too intimate. It felt like a betrayal too big to comprehend. The man you’d trusted, the one who had fought for you time and time again, was sitting across from another woman, completely at ease with someone else.

"How long do you think this has been going on?" you whisper, your voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would make the scene more real. Five’s jaw tightens, his eyes still glued to the two of them. "Too long," he spits bitterly. His leg continues to bounce with agitation, and his fists only seem to clench tighter. "I should have known. I could feel something was off, but I didn’t want to believe it."

You nod, understanding the sting of that realization all too well. You had brushed off Diego’s odd behavior at first, convincing yourself it was stress, maybe something work-related. You’d tried to ignore the little signs, dismissing the growing distance between you as temporary. But now, seeing them together, it all made sense.

Your breath catches as Diego reaches across the table to brush a strand of hair from the woman’s face. The tenderness in his touch, the smile that followed, it was too familiar. Too painful. You bite down hard on your lip, willing yourself not to break down completely.

"I just...I don’t get it," you manage, feeling the weight of the betrayal sink deeper. "We went through so much. How could he throw it all away like this?"

Five finally turns to you, his eyes softening for just a moment as he takes in your hurt. "Some people aren’t who we think they are," he says, his voice low and bitter. "No matter what we’ve been through with them." You swallow hard, feeling the sting of his words, because they were true. It hurt like hell to realize Diego might not have been the person you thought he was. The person who stood by you through thick and thin, who promised you the world, could betray you like this.

Five turns his gaze back toward the window, his voice suddenly cold and determined. "We have to confront them. I can't sit here and watch this any longer." You hesitate, your heart racing. The thought of walking into that restaurant, of facing Diego and seeing the truth in his eyes—it feels like too much. But as you watch Diego lean in closer to her, your anger flares. As he takes one hand up, to reach the door handle, you grasp his hand with a quick movement. "Don't", you say, stopping him from getting out.

Your hand lingers onto his. Five glances down at your hand gripping his, his sharp, icy gaze softening just a fraction. His leg stops its relentless bouncing, but you can still feel the tension radiating from him. For a moment, you sit in silence, neither of you knowing what to say. The world outside the car seems to blur into the background as the weight of the situation settles over you both. “Why not?” Five’s voice is low but laced with frustration. “Why are we just sitting here, letting them get away with this?”

You tighten your grip on his hand, your fingers trembling slightly. “Because I’m not ready,” you admit, the words barely audible. "I don’t know if I can face him right now. If I see him, see them together like this... I don’t know what I’ll do." Five’s eyes remain fixed on yours, searching for something—maybe reassurance, maybe strength. The pain in his gaze mirrors your own, a shared agony of betrayal that cuts deeper than either of you expected.

"I’m furious too," you continue, your voice thick with emotion. "But confronting them right now… It feels too raw, too soon. I need a moment to think before I... before we do something we can’t take back." Five exhales, the sound heavy with disappointment, but he nods. "I get it," he murmurs, his voice slightly softer now. "I just don’t know how much longer I can sit here and watch them act like none of it matters. Like we don’t matter."

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. "We do matter. We’re worth more than this. But if we go in there now, we might make things worse." You glance over at Diego and Five’s girlfriend, your heart twisting at the sight of Diego smiling, his eyes crinkling at the edges the way they used to when he looked at you. Five shifts in his seat beside you, his hand finally relaxing in your grasp. "So what do we do?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"I don't know five", you whisper. Five heard all of the hurt in your whispering and his heart arches worse than before. You can feel how his fingers slowly start gliding into yours. "It feels like someone ripped my heart out", you describe it to him, still knowing that he must feel exactly the same right now. "Hurts, doesn't it?", he asks you. You were kind of happy that he was here with you. You don't even want to imagine what it would be like to catch them like this and sit in the Van alone.

"Might sound pretty dumb but I am very happy that you are here with me", you tell him, hoping he would get what you meant.

Five's grip tightens around your hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin as if grounding both of you in this moment. For the first time since you got in the van, he looks away from the betrayal unfolding in front of you and focuses on you. His sharp, cold demeanor softens, and for a moment, you see past the anger, past the pain. There’s something raw and real beneath it all—something only the two of you could understand right now.

"It doesn’t sound dumb," Five replies, his voice quiet but steady. "I’m glad you’re here too. I don’t think I could handle this alone." The weight of his words hits you, and you realize how much the two of you are holding each other up in this nightmare. It’s an odd, tragic comfort—knowing that someone else feels the same pain, the same betrayal. But there’s also a strange sense of strength in that shared sorrow. "I don't know how to handle this five, I feel so empty", you try to describe what you are feeling.

"I understand you, down to your bones", he says. The words made your eyes tear, you didn't want to cry. You always wanted to appear hard and unbreakable, that was what Diego gave you. A safe space, where you could let all your emotion out, but now the first man you ever felt safe with, shattered you more than anything. As soon as Five noticed you, breaking apart, he climbed over the clutch and sat beside you. "Don't cry please I can't look at this...", he mumbled as he hugged you. Now that he also was cheated on, he hadn't had the strength to contain his wall to cover his own emotions.

His arms glide around you, like a cloth trying to protect you from the outer world. As Five’s arms wrapped around you, it felt like the dam finally broke. You had been holding back, trying to stay strong, trying to process the betrayal in front of you without falling apart, but his embrace shattered that fragile resolve. You buried your face into his chest, letting the tears fall, the ache in your heart too heavy to carry alone.

“I’m sorry,” Five whispered, his voice rough and low, but full of sincerity. He wasn’t apologizing for the situation—he couldn’t control what Diego or his girlfriend did—but for the pain you were both feeling, the weight of betrayal that neither of you deserved. His hand moved up, gently cradling the back of your head as he pulled you closer.

The tension in your body slowly began to melt, your grief finding an outlet in the comfort of his embrace. You hadn’t realized how much you needed this—how much you needed someone to simply be there, to hold you in the middle of the chaos. And somehow, Five’s presence made everything a little more bearable. It didn’t take the pain away, but it made it feel less suffocating, less isolating.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered against his chest, your voice trembling. “It hurts too much, Five. How are we supposed to move forward after this?”

Five’s hold on you tightened slightly, his chin resting on top of your head. He was silent for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “I don’t know either,” he admitted softly, his voice wavering in a way that made you realize just how much this had affected him too. He pushed himself a little bit away from you, so you both were looking at each other. You look at his tear streamed face, imitating yours. "I don't get what I did wrong that he had the demand to cheat", you say with a broken voice.

"Don't... don't do this please", he grabbed your cheek, covering your face. He wiped away a tear with his thumb. Five’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away your tears, the warmth of his touch contrasting with the coldness of your emotions. His eyes, usually sharp and full of wit, now brimmed with a pain that mirrored your own. "You didn’t do anything wrong," he said, his voice raw and steady, though it cracked at the edges. "Don’t blame yourself for their choices. This... this is on them."

You stared at him, seeing the reflection of your own heartbreak in his face, the weight of his words trying to sink in. But the doubt, the sense of not being enough, gnawed at you. "Then why does it feel like I wasn’t enough?" you whispered, your voice barely holding together. "Like if I had just... done something differently, maybe he wouldn’t have—"

Five shook his head, cutting you off gently. "Stop," he said, his voice firmer now. "People like them... they make their choices. It’s not about what we did or didn’t do. We gave everything, and they chose to throw it away. That’s on them, not on us."

His words, spoken with conviction, made your heart twist. You wanted to believe him, but the hurt was so deep, the betrayal so fresh. How could you not question everything about yourself when the person you trusted the most shattered that trust?

Five’s grip on your cheek tightened slightly, grounding you in the present. "You are enough," he said, his tone unwavering. "More than enough. And if Diego couldn’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you." You blinked, more tears spilling over despite your efforts to hold them back. "But it still hurts," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper. Five’s expression softened, the fire in his eyes dimming as he pulled you closer once more. "I know," he murmured, his voice low and comforting.

"It hurts so damn bad five", you say while laying your face more into his hand. Five’s thumb gently traced the curve of your cheek, his touch soft yet steady, grounding you in the swirl of emotions consuming you both. His breath hitched as your words echoed between you, the rawness of your shared pain palpable in the small space between your faces. "It hurts so damn bad, Five," you whispered again, leaning into his hand, letting the warmth of his touch soothe the ache inside.

For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in the weight of the emotions swirling around you—the betrayal, the anger, the heartbreak. But there was something else too, something that had been bubbling beneath the surface ever since this nightmare began. The way he had been there for you, how his presence was the only thing that made this unbearable situation just a little less suffocating.

Five's gaze softened as he watched you, his eyes still shining with unshed tears. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned in, his face inches from yours, as if testing the waters, searching for any sign that you didn't want this—didn't need this. But you did. In that moment, with everything crumbling around you, the only thing you wanted was him.

You closed the distance between you, your lips meeting in a kiss that was soft at first, tentative, like two broken souls finding solace in the only place that felt safe. Five's hands slid around you, holding you closer as the kiss deepened, the intensity of your shared pain spilling into the tenderness of the moment.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a release, a way to channel everything you had been holding in—the heartbreak, the betrayal, the feeling of not being enough. And in that kiss, it was like you both found a way to remind each other that you were more than enough. You had each other, and in that moment, that was all that mattered.

You let yourself fall back, with him following you. you both melt into each other, something you never felt before, Diego couldn't give you before. His kisses get harsher, finding an output for his anger, as you did the same.

The kiss deepened, growing fiercer as the tangled emotions of anger, pain, and longing poured into it. You clung to each other as if you were the only thing keeping the other from unraveling completely. Five’s hands traced down your sides, holding onto you as if he needed the connection to stay grounded, to stay sane amidst the chaos.

Your heart raced as you felt the fire in his touch, each kiss pulling you deeper into a world where the pain seemed to fade, even if just for a moment. There was a sense of desperation in it—both of you trying to drown out the betrayal, to find comfort in something, anything, that felt real. His kisses grew more urgent, more passionate, as if he was trying to pour all his frustration and hurt into each touch, needing to feel something other than the overwhelming sense of loss.

And you met him, kiss for kiss, letting go of everything but the present moment. The SUV, Diego, his girlfriend—it all faded into the background. For once, you let yourself feel without thinking, without analyzing what any of it meant. It was messy, raw, and full of the unresolved emotions that had been tearing both of you apart. But it was also a release, a brief escape from the reality that had shattered around you.

Five pulled back, breathing heavily, his forehead resting against yours. His breath was warm and uneven, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he tried to steady himself. "This…" he began, his voice hoarse, but he couldn’t finish the sentence. Neither of you knew what to say, because words couldn’t capture what you were feeling.

You met his gaze, eyes still glassy with tears, and for the first time, you didn’t feel alone in your heartbreak. His thumb brushed over your cheek again, but this time, it wasn’t just to wipe away tears. It was something more—something that told you, in this shattered mess of your lives, you weren’t facing it alone.

But your bodies, pressed together, shuddered at the same time as a loud thud emerged onto the Car window. Five's head flew up and yours did too. Diegos eyes were watching you two, your hands still clinging onto five and his hand resting on your cheek.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!", Diego screamed.

New post in a while, just started my job! I hope you liked this one shot, let me know what you think!

[eu-nicola]

Strong Love - Enzo Vogrincic x Reader

summary: Enzo makes a bold decision to save his relationship after rumors of infidelity spread. warnings: without

from a request

You have been in London recording a film for a month now. You initially planned to travel with your boyfriend, Enzo. However, unforeseen circumstances kept him back in his home country, managing interviews for his new film and other commitments. Soon, your name flooded social media, not for your movie but due to a particular photo everyone was tagging you in.

It was Enzo with his ex-girlfriend, Sofia, seemingly happy and together on the streets at night. The moment you saw it, confusion and pain set in. You wanted to believe it was a mistake, but the evidence was there. Unable to gather the strength to confront him in person, you sent him a text message, desperately seeking an explanation.

On the other side, Enzo anxiously stared at his phone, feeling the tension building up as he contemplated your message. "I saw the photos, Enzo, and I need you to explain what's going on," your message read. The realization of the photo's error struck Enzo, and he feared you wouldn't believe him.

As you noticed his delayed response, you tried to focus on your work on the film set. A mix of emotions overwhelmed you, from surprise to anguish. The images of Enzo and Sofia haunted your thoughts, creating a knot of insecurity and sadness. While attempting to concentrate, you awaited the answers Enzo was willing to provide.

Enzo, understanding the gravity of the situation, desperately sought to explain. When you finally checked your phone, you saw his rushed messages justifying the encounter. Amidst the filming chaos, you struggled to concentrate and process the flood of notifications that made you feel powerless and hurt.

"Love, you need to know it wasn't what it seemed. I ran into Sofia on the street by chance, and we only talked for a moment. There were no hidden intentions, I promise."

"Sofia is part of the past; you are my present and future. I made a mistake not anticipating how it could affect you, and I take full responsibility. I am willing to do whatever it takes to fix this because you are the most important thing to me."

"I know the photos may seem compromising, but I'm being honest with you. It was an unexpected coincidence. I'm sorry; I love you."

You loved him, and you knew he was being honest, but it didn't ease the pain, especially considering Sofia's past harassment when you first started dating.

"Enzo, the photos are hard to ignore, but I appreciate your honesty. I need time to process it all. I'm hurt, but I want to believe in you. We need to talk when I return." There were still a few months left until your return, but if he was truly willing to fix things, you hoped he would understand and wait.

Enzo, feeling overwhelmed by the distance and the anxiety of waiting, made a bold decision after days of reflection. He decided he couldn't wait months to resolve things and was determined to fight for you.

Within a few days, without saying a word, Enzo arranged a flight to London. Landing in the bustling city, his heart pounded with nervousness about your unexpected reaction.

That same afternoon, a few hours before you finished filming, he appeared on the set, searching for you everywhere, asking everyone where you were, and the consistent response was, "in her dressing room." When he finally found your dressing room and knocked on the door, you opened it, thinking it would be anyone but him. Seeing him, you were completely surprised.

"Enzo, what are you doing here?" you asked, a mix of disbelief and excitement.

"I'm sorry; I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to see you, talk to you face to face. Explanations and apologies aren't enough through messages," he replied, determination in his eyes.

You were moved by the fact that he flew there just to see you, a mix of emotions overwhelmed you. He continued, "I made a mistake; I shouldn't have talked to her, and I'm willing to face the consequences. But I'm also willing to fight for us, to show with actions that this is what I want most in my life, that I love you."

After hours of conversation and shared tears, you forgave Enzo because you truly loved him and saw that each of his words was sincere. During that time, he stayed with you, and despite the rumors, you paid them no attention. Every day, you both seemed more in love than ever, and everyone noticed.

After some time, you returned home, and the return flight felt different; you were better, and you liked that. You didn't know how things would unfold, but something inside you told you that everything would be okay.

[roanniom]

more eddie phone sex more eddie phone sex i am screaming it from the rooftops

Not a Creature Was Stirring

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY!, phone sex / masturbation, dirty talk, light alcohol consumption, light drug use (pot), tiny bit of distance related angst, these idiots are actually pretty sweet so a lil fluffy though it’s filthy? Idk

“So what are you wearing right now?”

“Eddie I’m on the phone in my parent’s kitchen. You can’t be a perv right now,” you chide him in a whisper, but he definitely still hears the smile in your voice.

You’ve been gone for less than 10 hours and yet Eddie is already going out of his mind missing you. Since you’d only been dating for a few months, the two of you agreed that him going home with you for the holidays might be moving a little too soon. You both, however, are bitterly regretting the decision.

“Not being a perv, baby. Just trying to picture you standing there all pretty, happy to talk to me,” Eddie replies. He intends for it to sound teasing, but it comes out just as genuine as he means it. It makes your throat get a little tight.

“Wish I was talking to you in person right now instead.” Your voice is small and his heart skips a bit.

“Me too.”

“This was stupid. Can’t believe I didn’t tell you to just come with me,” you huff, twirling the phone cord around your finger in distress.

“I mean we said it was too soon for the whole meet-the-parents thing,” Eddie reminds you, but his jaw is clenched as he holds back all the things he’d wished he’d said. Like how desperately he wanted to spend this special time of year with you, and how he would have loved the chance to win over the people who you care about most.

“Yeah but we were wrong. Who says there’s a timeline set in stone for this kind of thing anyway?”

“If you weren’t so far away, I’d hop in the van right now and let you know exactly where I want us to be on the timeline,” Eddie declares, feeling bold due to the distance and the fact that you can’t see his face. You laugh, which he’d hoped you would.

“If you weren’t so far away I’d let you.” It comes out shaky. You hadn’t said much but you’d said plenty, holding back the tears that threatened to spill out of nowhere. Eddie can hear it over the phone and he aches with the need to encircle you in his arms. To make any and all bad feelings melt away. He’s desperate to hear you laugh, so he tries his best.

“You can make it up to me by touching yourself and letting me hear some pretty sounds.”

“Eddie!” you say with a hushed squeal. Your eyes dart around to make sure you’re still alone in the kitchen, though nobody would be able to hear him even if they were near.

Eddie barks a laugh.

“It was worth a shot.”

You chew on your lip and contemplate, checking the clock on the wall above the sink.

“If…if you’re still up at midnight I can…maybe call you back from my room,” you saw slowly. Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Oh honey, if it means the chance to hear your sweet voice, I won’t be the only thing up at midnight.”

~*~

You’re adorably prompt, calling him back at 12am exactly on the dot. Eddie knows because he had been staring at the clock for the last fifteen minutes, willing time to fold in on itself if it could bring him just a little closer to you.

Eddie wrenches the phone to his face, a massive smile on his lips.

“Hey Princess,” he says, nice and low. Your laughter on the other end is breathless.

“What if it hadn’t been me? What if it was Wayne calling to tell you something?”

“Wayne would survive being called Princess,” he says with a shrug you can’t see. You giggle and Eddie preens. “What has you in such a good mood in the witching hour baby?”

“It’s all you, Eds,” you confirm, keeping your voice soft because of the time. “But I did steal a bottle of wine from my cousins after I said good night and I might have had a few glasses quickly before calling you.”

“Ah, looking for a party, are you?” A thrill runs down Eddie’s spine and he sits up a little straighter in bed, reaching for a pre-rolled joint and a lighter. He’s seen you tipsy before and you’re both adorable and insatiable.

“Yeah. And I was a little nervous,” you add honestly. You’d never talked dirty over the phone before, and even though you’ve had sex with Eddie many times by now, you’re still a little self conscious. Worried you won’t say the right thing or be sexy enough for him.

“Nervous about what? That someone’ll hear? You’re in your room, right?”

“Yeah, the cord from the hall phone was long enough to reach inside here, thank god.”

“So there’s nothing to be nervous about. You’ll be quiet, like a good girl, and nobody’ll know that you’ll be touching yourself for me.”

His words go straight between your legs, turning you on even more than the anticipation for this conversation had turned you on. He hears your sharp intake of breath and feels proud. Proud that without even touching you, even from so great a distance, he can still have a physical impact. Eddie strikes his lighter and inhales deeply, breathing his joint to life and taking a good long hit.

“I’m not nervous about people hearing I’m nervous that…” you trail off and Eddie feels apprehension for the first time all night.

“Nervous that what, baby?”

You huff in frustration, words not as easy in your tipsy state while also the excitement in your veins prompts you to get over yourself and stop wasting the time you have with him.

“You so much better at the dirty talk than I am…” you try to continue but he scoffs, cutting you off.

“If you dare say you’re nervous that what you say won’t be hot enough for me, I’ll scream.” Eddie drops the lighter back on his bedside table and scooches down to recline more comfortably now that he’s confident that your concern is silly. “Not to be creepy, but you could just breathe into the receiver while I jerk off and that would be enough to get me to cum my brains out.”

You let out a startled laugh at the absurdity of the statement and Eddie feels accomplished, taking another hit.

“You’re a fucking weirdo,” you respond affectionately.

“Yeah? But I’m your fucking weirdo,” Eddie counters, letting his hand smooth down to the front of his boxers. “And your fucking weirdo is hard as a rock right now, so is there anything you want to do about that?”

“Well…” you begin, getting comfortable in your bed despite the blood pounding in your ears, making it harder to hear the rustling of Eddie’s clothes over the phone. “If I was there…I’d probably tell you to get those boxers off and out of my way.”

“How did you know I still had my boxers on?” Eddie chuckles.

“Because I can hear you touching yourself through them. And because you always like doing things the hard way.”

“So, so hard Princess,” Eddie muses, pulling them off. “Ok, I’m naked for you. Boxers off as requested, ma’am. Now I repeat the question that I asked earlier - what are you wearing right now?”

“I’m wearing your Dio shirt. The one you left at my place last week,” you whisper sheepishly. Eddie swells with pride (and something close to possessiveness).

“You’re in my shirt and I can’t even see you? That’s cruel, baby,” he pretends to be cross. “Ok my Dio shirt and what else?”

“Nothing else,” you reply.

“So if I asked you to put your hand between those pretty little legs you’d be able to tell me how wet you are for me right now real easy?”

You do as he’d mentioned, bringing your hand down to gather your waiting slick.

“I’m really wet for you right now, Eds.”

“Good. Can you rest the phone on your shoulder or the pillow or something so both your hands are free?” he asks, doing the same thing himself as you move to follow his instructions. He holding his joint up in the air while getting a glob of lotion from the bottle on his nightstand, bringing it down to slide over the shaft of his cock. It adds a smooth glide to his motions that makes him swallow a moan.

“Something I should be doing with these two free hands, handsome?” you ask. You’re really pushing yourself here, trying to be confident in spite of the nerves. Eddie appreciate it and silently vows to make it so worth your while.

“Yeah. Take one and play with that little button I love so much. And the other one…tease your nipple with it through my shirt.”

You do as he says, rubbing circles into your clit, sending ripples of pleasure to your extremities. Your other hand presses and teases at your nipple through your shirt, making it harden from the friction of the material. You hum at the feeling and Eddie chuckles.

“Good, baby?”

“Really good. But not as good as it would have been with your hands.”

“No? Well why don’t you go and put two of those fingers inside you right now. Let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

You slide your middle and ring fingers inside your tight entrance, finding little resistance with how wet you are. Your other hand squeezed your breast more fully as you find a rhythm moving your fingers in and out of yourself.

“What about you? Are you…jerking off?” You ask shakily. You hadn’t been joking when you’d insisted he was better at dirty talk. Eddie usually talked all night long, leaving you with no obligations beyond feeling fucking incredible, moaning, and occasionally responding with a “yes! Yes!” or a “feels so good!” when prompted.

Eddie chuckles over the phone at your attempt, but the sound makes warmth spread through your body, rather than the embarrassment you’d assumed you’d feel. Apparently you’re too turned on to feel anything other than desire for him.

“Jerking off is a little crude. I’m not exactly a horny fifteen year old here, baby,” he admonished jokingly, abandoning his joint in the near by ashtray. You can hear the shick shick shick over the phone though and your stomach swoops. Of course he’s all lubed up. You know Eddie likes it wet. “I am, however, stroking my cock to the thought of your sweet pussy.”

“Oh god,” you whisper and Eddie laughs again. Your free hand abandons your tits and comes down to play with your clit as you add a third finger into your hole. Still not enough to recreate the stretch of Eddie’s fingers, let alone his cock, but still, better than nothing.

“Mmm what did you change? What’s got you moaning like that?” Eddie prompts. You feel heat spread through your body.

“I…I added another finger,” you admit and Eddie all but growls.

“That’s what I’m talking about. I know my baby likes to be stuffed full.”

“It’s not enough, Eds,” you whine then, and his heart wrenches. His instinct to give you something, more, everything hitches in his throat and he’s fucking his fist in earnest.

“Well then what will help? You got a toy there or anything that’ll feel…I don’t know, fucking more like me?” he laughs. You let out a frustrated laugh too.

“No, I don’t have a massive dildo just laying around at my parents house, Eddie.”

Eddie groans and squeezes himself even harder to stave off the urge to cum suddenly.

“Oh fuck, say more about how my dick is massive.”

“I didn’t say your dick is massive,” you say rolling your eyes, but thrusting your fingers in and out of yourself faster nonetheless. “I was talking about a dildo -,”

“I know what you meant, baby. No need to get coy with me now.” Eddie’s voice is hoarse. He’s trying his best not to cum, but something about your desperation, the sound of your voice (and if he’s being honest with himself, probably the weed), is bringing him all the way to the brink.

“Okay you’re right,” you say, finally letting go, circling your clit with abandon and bucking your hips to meet your hand, simulating what it feels like to meet Eddie’s thrusts. “Your dick is massive and perfect and I wish I was bouncing on it right now.”

Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Ah, so you’ve been picturing yourself on top?”

“You’ve been picture yourself on top?” you counter.

“Well yeah,” he admits. “But I just needed a visual, baby. I can flip us over in my head,” he adds with humor.

“No tell me what you were thinking,” you ask, you voice suddenly quieter, strained. You’re so close, desperate to cum with him. The way he wants you.

Eddie rolls so that he’s no longer on his back, his knees now digging into the mattress. He braces himself with one hand by where your head would be if you were there, his other moving furiously up and down his cock, tugging in down strokes that would have him bucking right into your pussy.

“I’m thinking about what its like when you’re under me and I fuck you so hard, every part of you jiggles. And those tits. Fuck.”

Eddie loses himself for a moment, grunting through the feeling of fucking himself. Imagining you there with him.

“You always take me so well, Princess. You’d take me so well, huh?”

“Yeah. I’d…I’d be so good for you, Eddie,” you whimper.

“I know you would be, baby. You make it so easy to just sink right in and just…fuck. Just give you everything I’ve got.” He’s so fucking close now he can feel his balls tightening, heavy and waiting.

“I-I want it,” you whine, voice cracking.

“What do you want princess? Tell me,” he commands gently. His hips are thrusting down towards the mattress now and he’s right on the edge of combusting.

“You,” you say, your voice small. Almost silent as all of your energy and focus zeros in on the tension building in your core, ready to snap. “Fuck…want you. Wanna cum. Wanna cum so bad Eddie.”

“Cum, baby. Come on and cum for me.” His tone is desperate, and the breathlessness is what has you tipping over the edge. The sound of your quiet moans, as your walls spasm and tighten around your own fingers, is what does him in. Eddie, free to be much louder alone in his trailer, cums with a deep groan that passes over the phone lines, through your ear and directly into your cunt, making your clit pulse anew beneath your frantically rubbing fingers.

“Merry fucking Christmas to me,” he finally mutters, sounding hoarse and wrecked when he finally drops onto his back on the bed, letting his softening cock fall from his grasp, spent. He hears your weak giggle over the phone and smiles.

“Hope you get everything you want for Christmas this year, Eds,” you whisper, fondness swelling inside you and evident in your voice.

“Oh Princess,” Eddie says with a chuckle, throwing an arm over his eyes and breathing deeply to help himself settle in the come down of his high. He wishes almost bitterly that you were in his arms right now, cuddling in the afterglow, but that sound of your voice on the line and the promise of your impending return keep his heart light. “I’ve already got all I could ever ask for.”

~*~

[lady-phasma]

A willing pawn

Daemon Targaryen x fem! Dornish!reader

A huge thank you to @zaldritzosrose for this amazing board. You read my mind and I don't know how you did it! An equal thank you to @black-dread for providing the missing puzzle piece to make this fic work.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, hurt/comfort if you squint, little bit of size kink, use of an infantilizing pet name (because Uncle Daddy Daemon), flimsy plot, creampie (and I truly did not plan what was going to happen there, Daemon just does whatever he wants in my brain, cheeky bastard)

Summary: You had a mission in the Stepstones, but he wasn’t as fearsome, this prince, as you had been led to believe. I’m not sure about my soft!Daemon but here he is. 4k words

The encampment was dark, lit only by dying fires. This night had been chosen because it would be moonless. Your soft-soled shoes were silent on the rocky earth as you crept between tents. You had planned your path at sunset, marking in your memory where the prince’s tent stood. As the orange light had faded from the sky, your stomach had begun to knot and twist with anxiety.

Could you really follow through with this? You knew you were able but were you capable of such a thing. The circumstances didn’t offer you any choice in the matter. Prince Qoren Martell wanted to avoid the costs of war, in gold and lives. His war counsel thought of every possible measure they could take to win this war, including involving House Yronwood. You were a cog in a larger plan and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You ducked around another tent and tiptoed to the edge of the large royal tent. This is as far as you had gotten in your strategy. From this point forward you could only hope for luck, as stealth wouldn’t matter when faced with the prince’s guards. You were sent here with the barest of plans and what little plan there was, was foolish. You listened for movement inside the tent and heard none. As you neared the front you expected a half-dozen guards but saw only two. You held your breath.

You couldn’t walk right up to the tent and demand to be let in. Sneaking in seemed to be impossible, but if you could, what next. Your heart pounded in your ears. Godsdamn it, you thought. You let out a shaky breath and slunk back into the shadows. When you turned around you almost walked face-first into a giant wall of armor.

The guard almost threw you into the tent but did not relinquish his grip on your elbow. You grunted and jerked your arm away from him as you stumbled into the large room. You caught your balance and stood up straight. The ground was covered in rugs. A table laden with maps and documents stood in the center. Next to it sat the Prince.

“We found this creeping about outside, your highness,” the guard grumbled.

Prince Daemon lounged in his chair, legs outstretched, crossed at the ankles. He was peeling a pear, paused mid-knife-stroke, and looked up from under his brows. They raised slightly, seemingly amused, but he didn’t bother to lift his head. He resumed his peeling.

“Leave us,” he commanded without looking up. You heard the guard’s armor as he left but didn’t take your eyes from the prince.

“What terrible deed have you been sent to do child?” He didn’t look at you, only sliced a bit of pear and popped it in his mouth. When you didn’t respond he brushed aside papers to make space on the table and laid down the knife and pear. He wiped his hands on a napkin, dropped it next to them, and stood up. Finally, he looked at you. He finished chewing, swallowed, and wiped one corner of his mouth with his thumb.

He strode toward you, sucking the pear juice off his thumb and assessing you. Much of your face was covered by your hood, stay strands of dark hair were visible but your features were cast in shadow. He dipped his head slightly and looked closely, standing only a few paces in front of you. His silver hair swung loose from his shoulder. The violet of his eyes was unnerving. You squared your shoulders.

“I am no child,” you replied, leaving off the honorific. He was no prince of yours.

“Is that so?” Daemon reached for your hood and flicked it back from your head. The only hint of surprise he allowed to show was a brief widening of his eyes. You were well aware the effect your father’s blue eyes had when set against the sienna skin you got from your mother. You narrowed your icy eyes at him.

“I’m gown enough to make it this far into your camp, am I not?” Daemon chuckled and flipped his hair back over his shoulder. He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled at you.

“I suppose so… but you did get caught, little one.”

Your cheeks flamed and you wanted to strike him but the smile on his face caught you off guard. Had he just winked at you? You were too frustrated to think and that wink made your blood boil. This was not going at all how you had expected when the guard snatched you up. Daemon didn’t so much as blink when you moved your hands from inside your cloak to push your hood back further. He was amused with you. The handle of your dagger glinted in the candlelight and caught his eye.

“So you were sent here to assassinate me?” He smiled that infernal smile. “Would you say it is going well?”

“Time will tell,” you answered through gritted teeth. Then he laughed at you, actually laughed. You clenched your hands into fists at your sides.

He took a step toward you and you tensed. You hadn’t the faintest idea what this man would do. You had only heard the rumors and propaganda in Dorne. When he reached out, you tried to take a step back from him.

“Uh-uh,” he commanded quietly. Then his hand dipped into your cloak and before you could move to stop him, he snatched your dagger out of your belt. He spun it lazily around, watching it dance in the light.

“This might have done the trick,” he spoke to the blade, not to you. “But I imagine someone with more experience should have been entrusted with it.” His eyes flicked back to your face. “Though, perhaps there were none as fierce as you.”

With absolutely no thought in your mind, you lunged forward and tried to grab the weapon from him. He deftly moved it out of your reach and grabbed your wrist with his other hand.

“As I said: fierce,” he quipped. You tugged your arm against his grasp to no avail.

“But I must!” You almost snarled at him. His expression wasn’t surprise but interest. He let you go and turned to lay your weapon on the table. When he faced you again a small smile was set on his mouth.

“Must you?” He raised an eyebrow. “If a child assassin has been sent to slay me, Dorne must be desperate indeed.”

“I am not a child! I am a woman grown, of 20 years!” You had no idea why this infuriated you but the prince knew that it did. He grinned again.

“Pardon me, my Lady. I should have said a ‘small’ assassin,” he mocked you. It was somehow kind. You were taken aback by his jest, by his demeanor. You hadn’t taken the time to pause and evaluate Prince Daemon. You had only been concerned with the ramifications of your failure.

Now that you looked, you saw a man not much older than yourself. A man who moved with experience in battle, with an ease not unlike your own. Graceful, even. Then he did the most unexpected thing. He extended his hand, offering you to sit in the chair opposite his. You had come here to threaten his life and now he was treating you like a guest! You gawped.

Before you could decide what to make of the situation, Daemon slid down into his chair and stretched his legs out again, completely unwary of you. He glanced at you one more time as he reached for his unfinished pear. You were too shocked to do anything other than sit. You closed your mouth and sat down across from him. You slipped your cloak off of your shoulders as you sat. Your common clothes weren’t uncomfortable but you weren’t used to them. You tried to adjust them as you sat but instantly became more frustrated. Daemon’s eyes on you didn’t help to easy your new-found insecurity. You were meant to have been unseen.

“Who sent you?” The blunt nature of his question startled you.

“And why should I tell you?” you retorted. You were behaving as if you were at home entertaining men you had grown up with. This was madness.

“I believe I am owed an explanation as it was my life you were planning to take. Also, what else is there to do?” He popped a slice of pear in his mouth. His eyes didn’t leave yours. “Let’s start with your name, shall we?”

You hesitated, but he was right: what else was there to do. You could sit in silence until he decided to have you executed. You could try to run from the tent only to be caught and executed sooner. So you told him your name and your house name.

“Very good,” he tossed the knife and pear back on the table. “What did Martell threaten? What predicament did he put you in?”

Your eyes widened. Was Prince Martell’s reputation so tainted, so sullied, outside Dorne?

“Not him,” you spoke quietly. “Though I suppose, ultimately, he knows. We are not a political house but we have wealth that is necessary for Dorne to succeed.” Your eyes flicked down from his at the last word. You weren’t sure why but you felt ashamed for being in this position, had all along if you thought about it.

“So if not the prince himself…” Daemon paused, waiting for your answer.

“His war counsel,” you replied. “They have many strategies in play, I’m sure, but one is to ‘motivate’ certain houses to bring the war to an early end. I have no knowledge of the other plans. I only know that my father was threatened. Whatever that threat was, it was powerful enough for him to send his youngest daughter to the Stepstones.”

There it was. You had spilled it out to the enemy in a gush and felt like vomiting or crying or fleeing. You looked up from your lap. Daemon was studying you. Once again he surprised you. Perhaps you expected him to mock you but the kindness on his face somehow made your situation more real. You bit your lip to stop the tears. You would not cry. You were angry and frightened and when the prince had called you a child it made those feelings more real.

“What choice did you have?” He sounded almost compassionate. This couldn’t be the petty tyrant you were warned against, who would rape, or torture, or kill you if you were caught. “You came all this way on an errand not of your choosing and meant to go through with it. That’s more than a little honorable, don’t you agree?”

You had no idea. You were confused and overwhelmed and angry. You had never been a zealot, but you had been more sure of your mission when the target was evil or cruel. Perhaps he was at times, but not now.

“I suppose so,” you muttered, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Well what do I do with you now?” He leaned forward in his chair. “I can’t set you free. Yet I don’t want another prisoner. And you don’t want to return home as a failure. I can see that. I could keep you as a hostage and demand gold for your safe return. Would that keep your honor intact?”

You blushed, not just from his nearness but from the fact that he could see your thoughts so clearly on your face. You and your family would be dishonored if you returned unsuccessful. It would also be unfavorable to the prince to appear compassionate to would-be assassins.

“It would,” you answered. “But I do not think the ransom would be paid.”

“No? Not for a young woman as fierce and cunning as yourself? Not for someone so precious?”

Your eyes flicked up to his at this curious word. You watched him, suspicious, as he slid out of his chair and knelt in front of you.

“I think you’re quite frightened of either choice: being sent home or being held here. I don’t want you to be frightened. Maybe the Crone had a purpose for bringing you here.”

You felt your breath catch. He looked so sincere. He was intoxicating but you believed him. You didn’t want to feel relief at the prospect of no longer sneaking, hiding, being a stowaway, but you did. Almost instantly, you imagined a hot bath, a dress and not these rags, and food that wasn’t brown. Then something else flashed in your mind and the heat returned to your face.

Daemon slowly reached out to you and stroked the side of your face. He skimmed a lock of your hair with his fingers, watching it catch the light. Its deep brown shown with hints of gold. You studied him closely. When he turned his gaze back to you, your heart pounded in your chest. His eyes searched yours as he cupped your cheek in his palm.

“Gevie,” he whispered. You thought it was High Valyrian but you weren’t sure. Your lips parted almost involuntarily as you looked up at him. He leaned toward you, silver hair cascading off his shoulders. You felt his lips on yours and closed your eyes.

His hand holding your face felt safe. His lips were warm and tasted of pear. You dared not move. You were overwhelmed and confused. However, there twisted in your belly some need, some desire for him. Your chest ached with the delicious feeling of being safe. You didn’t question how this was possible so far away from home and with your “enemy” no less. So you kissed him back.

Daemon slid his other hand to frame your face. His kiss wasn’t rough, but it was deep. You had kissed men before, you were experienced in the most basic of ways. You realized now that all the men before had not kissed you, they didn’t see you. They saw a Yronwood daughter or practice for their marriage beds. You had made those choices willingly. You weren’t concerned with being married for political reasons and had enjoyed your freedom. Until now. In this moment, you felt… precious.

Tentatively, you raised a hand to him, your fingertips grazed his jaw and neck, and came to rest on his chest. He slid his hands from your cheeks as he broke the kiss. As if waiting for your permission, Daemon rested his hands on your upper arms. You kissed him in answer. His arms swept around you and scooped you up as he stood. Your head spun but you steadied yourself by putting your hands on the back of his neck.

Daemon sat you on his bed and smoothed your hair back from your face. He stepped back and pulled his shirt over his head. He dropped it on the floor as he leaned down to kiss you. You made room for him on the bed, drawing him toward you with your kisses. He knelt between your legs, kissed your neck, and slid a hand under your shirt. You arched your back, pressing into his palm.

He brushed the underside of your breasts with the tips of his fingers and his other hand glided up your ribs. He pushed your shirt up above your breasts, fixated on your hardened nipples. His hair slid over your chest as he took one nipple in his mouth. He propped himself up on one hand and cupped your breast with the other. You moaned and writhed under him. You instinctively ran your fingers through his hair and held him against you. Daemon groaned and the sound vibrated from your chest to your core. When he pulled away you realized you had been grinding against his leg and flushed. He smiled down at you.

Wordlessly, he guided you to raise your arms so he could remove your shirt. Then he began to unlace your breeches. You watched his muscles move as he slid your pants off. You lifted your hips and giggled a little when you plopped back down on the bed as he tugged them off your legs. You weren’t shy but the action was awkward and you were quite exposed now. He tossed the breeches on the floor and smoothed a hand up your thigh. He stared, rapt, at the dark hair between your legs, so different from the silver of his own.

You bit your lip as you looked from his face, down his chest, and to the evidence of his arousal. His breeches looked uncomfortably tight now. His hands absently stroked your legs and your lower belly but paused as you sat up. You held him between your legs. When you kissed his stomach he hissed in air through his teeth. Your hands grazed over his hips and to the laces in the front of his pants. You let your fingertips glide over the shape of his erection before undoing the knot. You kissed seemingly every inch of his stomach then looked up at him as your hand dipped inside. His face was curtained by his hair as he looked down at you. You smiled as you stroked him.

Daemon moved his hands from your legs, smoothed over your hair, and then gently pressed your shoulders back. You laid down, already missing the feeling of him in your hands, but the sight of him between your legs was almost as pleasant. He leaned over you, kissing your forehead gently, then your lips, and pressed his forehead against yours.

You gasped as his fingers slid between the lips of your cunt. He licked his lips and continued to explore your wetness. Stroking, searching, learning. He circled your opening, your clit, and back again. One finger slid in easily and he grinned. You lifted your mouth to his as you lifted your hips to his hand. He slid in a second finger.

“You are so tight, little one,” he grinned down at you. You rocked your hips against his hand and moaned in reply. You placed one hand on his arm, pulling him deeper into you. With the other you smoothed his hair behind his ear and trailed your fingers down his jaw. You drug your fingertips over his lips. His eyes were dark as he watched you pleasure yourself on his hand.

“More, Daemon, please,” you moaned, saying his name for the first time. Hearing his name come from your lips pleased him immensely.

“Say it again,” he breathed as he curled his fingers inside you.

“Daemon, please.”

Slowly and with a tinge of disappointment on his face, he pulled his fingers from you. He was enjoying the sight of you but couldn’t wait any longer. He freed his cock from his breeches. Then he slid his hands up your thighs to your lower back. As he sat back he guided you onto his lap. The transition was clumsy at first, legs bumping and twisting. You both smiled as you held onto his shoulders. When you knelt over him you rubbed your clit against his cock. You rested your lips against his forehead as you rocked your lips. You moved your mouth nearer to his ear and murmured his name.

Daemon lifted your ass and placed you above his cock. With one hand between you, he guided himself into you. You sank down onto him slowly, watching his face. He clenched his jaw tight. You felt his hand move back to your ass. He let you set the pace, let you move against him. You pulled up and then sank down again, taking all of him. The moan that came from your lips was lewd and deep. You clutched at his neck, the back of his head, fingers entwined in his hair. He groaned but did not move to meet your hips. You rocked back, then forward, finding your rhythm.

He kissed your chest and breasts. His hands stroked your ass and lower back, constantly moving. You leaned forward slightly and pressed yourself against him. At this angle he wasn’t as deep in you, but you found friction against his stomach. You ground your hips into him, almost, but not quite able to get what you needed.

“Seven hells,” he panted against you. His hips had begun to move in time with yours. Your fingers twisted tighter in his hair and you tried to find that much-needed angle again. When he realized what you needed he slid a hand between you. You threw your head back as his fingers circled your clit. You sped up, fucking him hard. He kept pace with you, circling and pressing his fingers against you. You couldn’t keep a steady rhythm. You felt him brace your lower back with his hand and pull you closer to him, steadying you, supporting you. You felt your climax tug at your core and sank further onto his cock with each stroke.

“Come for me,” Daemon whispered into your neck. You did. You cried his name, clinched your fists in his hair, and buried your face against his head. You sank all the way down onto him, thighs resting on his as you shook. Your cunt spasmed around his cock but he didn’t stop moving his fingers. He pressed into you with his hips, rocking under you, and bringing forth tiny gasps from you. You lips found his and you panted into his mouth. Tiny sounds mingled with his name flew out of your mouth with every movement of his fingers.

When you thought the overstimulation might be too much he moved his hand from between you. He slid his hand under your arm and pulled you down onto him by your shoulder. A new wave of pleasure crashed into you as he spilled into you. His hips stilled, holding his cock deep inside you. He came panting and moaning your name.

You wanted to sink all of your weight onto him. It took too much effort to support yourself on your aching knees. Neither of you wanted to move yet, though both of you needed to. You released your hands from his hair. You kissed him and smoothed his hair back from his face.

You smiled at him as you rose shakily from his lap. He helped you as much as he could, but your legs were numb and your head was empty. You all but fell back onto the pillows. He watched you grind your hips against the air as the last of your climax left you. His eyes were locked on his seed sliding out of you. He leaned forward, his legs shaking as well. You watched him through half-closed eyes and settled yourself on the bed. His fingers slid through his cum and you twitched as he grazed your throbbing clit. He looked into your blue eyes as he gathered more of it on his fingers. You smiled seductively as he leaned over you and raised his fingers to your lips.

You opened your mouth, your eyes never leaving his, and he painted your tongue with his seed. You closed your lips around his fingers and let him feel you swallow. He slid his fingers out and surprised you by kissing you deeply, tasting himself in your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist. You playfully pulled his weight on top of you. He let you but also guided you both to lay on your sides. Your legs intertwined and you were a tangle of limbs for a moment. Then you buried your face into his chest and breathed in deeply. You sighed as he smoothed your hair and rested his chin on the top of your head. You were quite small in his arms. Daemon breathed deeply as he stroked down your back, your buttocks, and up again. You curled against him, one hand between you, the other resting on his hip.

“I have you now, little one,” he murmured against the top of your head.

Masterlist

[lucvly]

girllll please do a smut where matt is on tour the reader is on the phone with him and she starts hearing his heavy breathing and grunts so she stops talking and he says something like “keep talking pretty girl, im so close”

— radio, matt sturniolo. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: smut smut smut. also this is short my bad. not proofread.

a/n: oh my god i saw this and knew i had to get cooking. i’m working on so many reqs rn be patient w me i beg !! sensitive stans dni i bite

at first, matt had begged you to come with him on tour, you two were together almost every day so it wouldn’t be all that different from your usual routine. however, as much as you would’ve loved to join him, you had to stay back home and tend to some important work matters. this meant having him away for almost a whole month.

not having your boyfriend around was painful to say the least. sure, you had work, family and friends to keep you busy, but nothing compared to having his presence right there next to you. of course, you texted every day at almost every hour, and you called each other every night to tell the other about your day and just hear each other’s voice.

on this specific night, matt asked you to call him a bit earlier than usual, which you didn’t mind at all. at the end of the day you got to hear your boyfriend’s voice, but it did seem a bit out of the ordinary.

“hi princess, nick and chris went to target to get some things we need, so i figured we could call a bit earlier.” matt spoke, his voice just as sweet as always, though you could sense a small smile in his voice. “tell me about your day, i wanna hear every detail.”

and that’s how an almost endless rant about your day started. you’d had an incredibly long day, you told him all about how you went to the bookstore in the morning and got some books that you’d been dying for, how you’d gotten some work done after that, then you told him about some meaningless argument you had with your mom.

“it was annoying, but– we’ll get over it.” you let out a soft sigh, laying back on your bed.

“i’m sure you will, baby.” matt’s voice seemed a bit deeper and breathier than usual.

his reply made your brows slightly furrow, normally he’d offer some sort of advice, try to comfort you or distract you but his reply was simply– underwhelming. he was never this quiet when it came to you. what on earth could he possibly be doing that made him go quiet— oh. as if on queue, to pull you out of your thoughts, you heard a shaky breath on the other line, followed by a slick and wet movement.

suddenly all the pieces started to click together in your head. was he jerking off? the thought of it made a small smirk appear on your face. you couldn’t believe him. he didn’t even have the decency to tell you so you could help him or join him? so that’s why he called you a bit earlier when his brothers were out, and that’s why he seemed so off throughout the call.

a part of you just wanted to go ahead and join him, tell him how much you’ve missed him over the past few weeks, how much you’ve been craving his fingers inside of you, or simply how much you’ve missed him inside of you. but the other part of you wanted to see how far he was willing to take this. it was funny enough that he didn’t realize you were already catching onto his situation, teasing him a little wouldn’t hurt.

“what should i do? i’m just, upset. you know?” your voice managed to sound the slightest bit sad, yet a smirk was displayed on your face.

“i– yeah, i mean–” he cut himself off before reconsidering continuing further with an act he knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep up with any longer. the slick sounds from the other line had picked up a quicker and swifter speed.

“hm?” you only let out a hum. knowing he was getting off to your voice was incredibly hot, but you wanted to see what would happen if you just– stopped talking. knowing you had full control over him without him even realizing it was simply arousing.

all that could be heard from the phone were soft grunts and heavy breaths, followed by some slick sounds which only made the smirk on your face grow slightly wider.

“fuck– princess, just do me a favor and keep talking for me, yeah? i promise i’ll make it up to you.” his voice was breathy, short pauses with shaky breaths between almost every word.

“care to tell me what’s going on?” you teased, letting out a soft giggle. you were just as turned on as he was, but you wanted to focus on your boyfriend’s pleasure first and foremost because of the short amount of time you had before his brothers came back.

“shit– just keep talking, pretty girl, i’m so close, please.” his breathing was shaky, you could hear the slick and wet sounds getting louder, picking up a quicker speed as a low grunt could be heard over the phone. “god, i miss you. i miss being inside of you.”

“and i miss having you here with me, i wish i could take care of you,” your voice was sweet, and your cheeks started to heat up with the tint of a soft pink color. “i miss you.”

your voice was needy and barely even audible, but those three words were all he needed to reach his release. the pace of the wet sounds managed to quicken even more before a soft “shit–” could be heard over the phone, followed by a slightly louder groan as the slick sounds began to cease.

“you’re the best, you know that?” his voice was almost a whisper. he was clearly tired out, his voice a bit deeper yet softer than usual.

“at least let me join next time,” you joked, playfully rolling your eyes as if he was right there next to you to see it. a small smile was still displayed across your face as you twirled a strand of hair around your finger.

“i will. i promise. next time will be all about you, princess.”

[sleepingelvhen]

Sleeping Spider Lily Pt. 2

Blade/Reader NSFW Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- [🌹Part 4🌹] Minors DO NOT interact MASTERLIST Your world was turned upside down when you discovered the love of your life was alive and a completely different person. Now, you need answers, even if it was risky.

Nighttime on the Luofu was the most peaceful. For you, at least. Not many enjoyed strolling the less patrolled streets as you did, the mara-struck a blight upon the planet-ship that kept most everyone away. It made things easier for you; the further you strayed from civilization, the fewer guards there were, and the less likely you were to get reported to Jing Yuan for completely going against his request.

Maybe your logic was slightly skewed from the complete lack of sleep that muddled your logical thinking. Possibly also combined with the questions that consumed your mind. Questions only Blade would be able to answer if he was willing. If this reckless plan went wrong however…well, it’s been a while since you’ve sparred with someone.

Slipping through the shadows, you avoided another group of guards within Stargazer Navalia. Hood up to cloak your face, a deep breath to calm your nerves, and a moment to take control of a docked starskiff, soon you were flying through the Luofu, guiding your way to the only place you believed Blade would hide out. 

The one place you haven’t been to in a few hundred years now.

Complicated machinery was quickly replaced by sand and the ripples of waves. A reminder of where the races of the Luofu came from before their home developed to soaring through space. 

It was a familiar sensation when your feet sunk into the thin beach sand, a wave of nostalgia in your heart making you feel so lightweight it felt for a moment you were floating.

He was here, he had to be. It was like a second sense, something you once believed was a supernatural connection you had had with him. A bond that connected the two of you so that you would always know he was near. Part of you wanted to believe it to be true, but if you had gone this long not knowing he was even alive…well love makes you delusional.

Scalegorge Waterscape was beautiful enough to cause your eyes to water a bit as you approached the main entrance. Memories of friends…family…a love you had lost…they all appeared as ghosts in your mind now drowned by the now risen sea levels. Only a part of it still really existed, a platform with a statue depicting the Imbibitor Lunae, another friend you had lost all those years ago.

Eyes fixated on the statue, it took you a moment to really notice that you weren’t alone. You felt his presence, knew he was there. But a part of you didn’t want to look, scared to really face the reality of the situation.

“He must face his betrayal,” his darkened voice pulled you from your mind. A bit of a reminiscent tone within words that he attempted to make sound completely careless. “No one can run from a price to be paid.”

You finally turned to look at him. Surprisingly, he looked quite peaceful here, eyes staring up into the statue of Dan Feng. You thought you saw a flash of sadness in his eyes, maybe a bit of hope that he could return to the past. Or maybe that was just a bit of your own hope peaking through.

“Why have you come here?” Red eyes met your own then, you hadn’t even noticed he had turned to acknowledge your presence. Just like before, eyes filled with disdain and a desire to kill. But it was just what he was, it seemed. There was no desire in him to attack you, there was no intent to kill you. He was simply filled with bloodlust and it caused a shiver to climb up your spine.

“I…” your voice caught in your mouth. “I need answers.”

“Don’t we all?” He looked away from you again, eyes fixated upon the stretching ocean. You followed his gaze there, reminded of how this place used to look. Once filled with life, now beneath languid waves. Just a reminder of what you both had lost.

“Do you…remember me?” It was the only thing you could really think to ask. While it sounded so simple coming from you, it was just…the only thing that left the fog of your chaos-filled brain.

Blade huffed, almost a laugh. Aeons have you missed that. Blade never had a loud laugh like many, it was always cocky and short. One thing you had loved about him. Something that made your heart pang when you heard it again.

“I remember you…” His voice softened, eyes closed, refusing to turn to face you. “You seem to have changed.”

You gritted your teeth then and clenched your fists. With a deep breath, you walked forward, joining him where he stood. The silence was louder than the waves, louder than the crunching sand beneath your feet.

“We both have.”

Blade dipped his head in agreement, no reaction to you moving next to him. He didn’t move away, didn’t step closer, just stood there, staring out at the sea. You closed your eyes, trying to enjoy this for a moment, pretending it was like old times. The man beside you was Yingxing, and you were his lover. Standing upon Scalegorge Waterscape, simply reveling in the silence and one another’s company. 

Back then, you would gently take his hand in yours and he would squeeze it to tell you he was there and would always be there. Back then, he would tell you about his day and about the ways he was improving in his craft. Or maybe he would show you a sword he was proud of. You thought fondly of the day he showed you Shard Sword, proud upon its flawless creation. The smile upon his face was one you had tucked away into your memories, so vivid you could look at it whenever you pleased.

“You came here seeking answers,” the growl in his voice pulled you away from your thoughts, your eyes opening, your head turning to see him staring down at you intensely. “Ask your questions.”

He had blue eyes once, you remembered. But the red, it was entrancing and almost suited him better than the blue. Despite all the changes he still looked like himself, still looked so gorgeous. It was always so easy to get lost in his eyes, so easy to search for the feelings he kept hidden. You saw it there, a subtle flash of vulnerability. Eyes awash with affection.

“How are you alive?” You watched as his mood fell a bit, his brows lowering, a sharp intake of breath hinting at something painful inside. 

“The mara,” he simply said, unsheathing his sword, Shard Sword, and gliding his fingers against the golden marbling of its perfection. He hummed in consideration, nicking the pads of his index and middle finger, blood dripping down onto the blade, then onto the ground beneath him. Then, you watched wide-eyed as the deep cuts glowed and healed in simply a few seconds. Blade closed his eyes and sighed. “I pay my price in blood…and endless life.”

“Yingxing—Blade…” You stumbled over your words, correcting the name when you saw him turn his head away from you upon hearing his old name. He sheathed his sword, clenching the fist that he had previously cut.

“I left as I was cursed. Determined to die. Instead I became this. Immortal. Mara-struck. A blade to be used." His explanation made you understand truly what had happened. His allegiance with Dan Feng, his betrayal of the Luofu. Yes, they had found immortality in their search to revive their friend, but he was living proof of what that did to a short-life species. 

“You have your answers.”

But you didn’t leave, you just stared at him, tears in your eyes. You were exhausted, heart-broken, and…still absolutely in love with this man despite who he had become. A criminal, betrayer of the Luofu, ally to the Stellaron Hunters, and the love of your life. 

He took a sharp breath when he saw you staring, eyes darkening as he looked down at you. He cocked his head to the side, watching you carefully. 

“Your general would not be pleased if he discovered you here,” his voice was low and breathy, as if he was whispering.

“Jing Yuan would understand,” you simply said, unable to take your eyes away from him.

“Hm,” Blade turned his head, gaze still fixated upon your face. The noise he made sounded like a growl, or a huff of irritation. He used to do that when Jing Yuan would get too close to you, too friendly. A dusting of pink colored your cheeks as you looked down at your feet.

“I missed you…you know. Every day.”

Blade didn’t answer you. Instead, two fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes, flickering with something that looked all too familiar. Intrigue, affection, and hesitance. 

“Every day?” He asked, his voice husky.

“Every day,” you answered, your own voice growing warm and soft.

You swore you saw a ghost of a smirk grace his face, a glimmer of his arrogance. 

“Hm…you are tired,” Blade pulled his fingers away slowly, the feeling of his touch lingering on your jaw. A soft gasp left your lips when he leaned in close, his lips against the shell of your ear, his whisper breathing a warm breath against your skin. “Go sleep, little dove. You will see me soon.”

He took your hand in his, his fingers slipping a piece of paper into your now weakened grip. As soon as he had been so close to you, he was walking away, hands behind his back as he regarded his environment. 

You wanted to stay, taking a step forward to reach for Blade before you stopped and bit your lip. He was right, you were on the verge of falling asleep right here right now. And nighttime was almost over. You fought the urge to stay, and left the Waterscape, gliding back home on the stolen starskiff. 

Once back in your room, you slipped into your sleeping clothes, sitting on the edge of your bed with the paper in hand. It was soft against your fingers, making your mind reel as you wondered what was within. Hesitance didn’t stop you as you opened the small slip of paper, revealing the message Blade had given you.

An address and a meeting time. He was hiding within a small building. Right here in the Divination Commission.

[steddieas-shegoes]

“Hey, Wayne said you refused to talk to the therapist.”

It was day 34 of visiting Eddie in the hospital, and there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. If Eddie would talk to the therapist, he could be released into Wayne’s care.

The therapist spent two hours with him, and apparently got nothing more than some sighs and eye rolls.

“I didn’t like him.”

“Well, we can get you another one.”

“I don’t like them either.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“You haven’t even met them yet.”

“I just know I won’t,” Eddie said as he crossed his arms, hissing when he rubbed against the bandages still covering most of his torso.

“Do you want to stay in the hospital forever?”

“No.”

“Then why can’t you just talk to the therapist? You don’t have to tell them everything, just how you’re feeling now.”

“I don’t want to.”

Steve was trying not to get frustrated. He promised Wayne he’d try to talk some sense into him patiently. It was proving to be harder than he thought it would be.

“What is it that you don’t want to tell them?”

“That maybe I did kill Chrissy! That maybe if she had just gone home or I told her no that she’d still be alive! Maybe Vecna would have gone to the next victim and I wouldn’t have to be here in pain!” Eddie was breathing heavily, his heart monitor beeping more rapidly the more he spoke.

Steve didn’t visibly react, though he wanted to. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold Eddie, turn back time and pretend that it was possible that Chrissy wouldn’t have died, let Eddie live his life not knowing these horrors existed.

He wanted to be able to scrub the memory of carrying Eddie’s limp and bloody body from his mind so he could go back to his regular nightmares of him dying, not the man he-

“Sorry.”

Steve’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Eddie spoke his apology so softly into the room. It was a direct contrast to how he’d been before, and it was startling.

A thought occurred to Steve, one he hadn’t thought of in at least two years, but felt right now.

“You know, I used to be kind of friends with Chrissy. Not close, but we talked.”

Eddie stared at him curiously, probably wondering where this could be going.

“It was funny. It didn’t happen until I wasn’t popular anymore. I guess that just shows she was a great person.”

“Yeah. She was.”

“I remember I was sitting alone eating lunch. Jason and his crew weren’t there and she walked up to me and said ‘let’s be lonely together for today.’ And I guess that was our thing, being lonely together. It sounds stupid.”

“Doesn’t sound stupid to me.”

Steve looked up and saw Eddie’s wide, wet eyes staring back at him, silently begging him to continue his story. Maybe he needed this.

“It happened a few more times and then we ended up hanging out a few times before graduation. We actually,” Steve paused and bit his lip. This would give a lot away and may end up making things worse for Eddie, but he wanted to believe it would help. “We bonded over our crush on you.”

He let it sit in the air for a moment, eyes refusing to look back up at Eddie.

Until he felt a hand on his.

“You both had a crush on me? Me?!”

“Don’t tell Robin, but she was the first person I came out to. Accidentally. And it wasn’t really coming out so much as admitting I thought you were cute.”

“You thought I was cute?!”

“Well, yeah! Always playing with your hair and doodling during class. Helping the freshman find their classes. Giving those speeches. You were brave.”

“Steve. That’s not bravery.”

“It is when everyone is willing to hurt you because of who you are.”

“I barely ever actually got beat up. Words are just words.”

“We both know that isn’t true.”

Eddie nodded, swallowed, then sighed.

“Yeah. I just didn’t want anyone to feel like me.”

“That’s why we had a crush on you!”

“Well, that’s nice that you bonded over that.”

Steve didn’t like the sudden change in his tone. Like he’d liked hearing the story, but now he realized it didn’t matter.

And maybe it didn’t.

Chrissy was still gone. Eddie still had to watch her die a terrible death.

They were both still traumatized.

But Steve still had a crush on Eddie that wouldn’t go away no matter how much he repressed it.

And maybe that part of the story was something that could change for the better.

“Robin told me I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, she tells all of us that often.”

“But this is about something specific.”

“What is it?”

“Well, I never got over my crush on you. And instead of saying something about it, I just thought I’d forget about it eventually.”

Eddie blinked at him.

“Chrissy once dared me to ask you out. She said when you graduate, I should do it. Just take the risk.

She was pretty sure you were into both anyways.”

“She was right.”

“Yeah, she usually was,” Steve nodded. “But the problem here is you haven’t technically graduated yet.”

“No I haven’t.”

“You could, though.”

“Maybe.”

“But you have to get out of here first.”

“I see what you’re doing, Harrington.”

“What’s that?” Steve smirked and reached out to move Eddie’s hair away from his face.

“Bribing me to graduate with promises of a date.”

“Is it working?”

Eddie sighed. “Unfortunately.”

“Good. So you’ll talk to the therapist tomorrow?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“You always have a choice, I’m just hoping you choose you.” ——————————— When Eddie walked across the stage two months later to get his diploma, Steve was giving him a standing ovation.

He ignored his original plan of flipping off Principal Higgins, he didn’t want more eyes on him than he already had.

He ignored it because now he had a new plan. He was gonna walk off the stage, throw his cap in the air, and then kiss Steve Harrington.

Part 2: Prologue