#and my manager who is supposed to share my shifts so I have help just left at 2
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All Seeing, All Knowing, All Loving Part 25
Rating: No explicit sex or violence
Summary: youâre soulmates ofc I wouldnât make you break up
Word count: 2,261
ao3 link
Helen had always been the staunchest man-hater of your little group, but even she wouldnât defend your actions.
âI mean, he just got back from wherever the fuck, and you go off on him?â
âI didnât go off on him!â
âTo be fair,â Kate argued, âyou did snap at him.â
If even your girls werenât feeding your delusions, you were clearly quite deep in the shit. You poked at your Chinese with a fork, twirling the noodles around the tines. Nobody liked to admit that they were wrong, and you were no exception. Granted, you were lucky that you had friends who would call you out and bring you back to earth, but that didnât mean you liked it.
âYeah, you are gonna have to pull your head out your arse,â Helen commented, âsuck it up, put on your big girl pants, and apologise. You throw this away based on your ego, and I will, in fact, belt you.â
âYou two are my mates. Arenât you supposed to be on my side?â
Kate snorted, âBeing on your side involves calling you a dickhead when you are being a dickhead.â
You waved away their words, not wanting to confront that truth just yet, âAlright, never mind my relationship drama. Itâs film night! What we watching?â
It was a poor attempt at changing the subject, and they shared a glance, but allowed you to put it aside for now. You gave Helen the remote, allowing the pair of them to bicker while you stared somewhere past the TV, your mind on Simon.
Kate and Helen were long asleep as the credits of the last film rolled, but you were still wide awake. Youâd tried in vain to get comfortable for the last hour, but all youâd done was shift from one side to the other, rolling to and fro like a pig over a spit. You would have liked to have pretended that this was due to the fact that the other two had taken each side of the sofa, leaving you awkwardly in the middle, but there was no point. It was solely due to the fact that you hadnât spoken to Simon in days. This wasnât unusual, of course, youâd spent the last few months barely speaking, yet this time, it was a choice.
It didnât take you long to get sick of it. Very carefully, you extricated yourself from under the duvet and walked over to the hallway, where youâd left Priceâs receipt on the side. You werenât sure how many times youâd looked at it over the last few days, more than a dozen at the very least, but youâd never actually managed to suck it up and call. Sometimes, youâd gotten so far as to type in the numbers, but youâd never actually called.
Fuck it.
Tonight was the night. You grabbed your coat, sticking the receipt in your pocket, slipped your daps on, and slunk out into the hallway, taking your keys and locking the door behind you. Where you were going, you werenât entirely sure, you just aimlessly wandered down the hallway until you got out to the stone stairwell, and you sat down on the cold concrete, digging the receipt out of your pocket and then typing the numbers in your phone. God, what you would have given for the old phones, with the cords, so you could soothe yourself by wrapping your fingers around the coils, playing with the twisted plastic. Unfortunately, you had a modern mobile, so you just fiddled with the receipt.
âPrice.â
Heâd picked up on one ring. Considering it was two in the morning, you were surprised.
âPrice? You told us to give you a ring?â
âYou made your mind up, then?â
âNo.â
âWhat do you want then?â
âI want support, Price. Someone who actually knows what Iâm going through, so I can actually sort my shit out.â
âKingy will give you a ring. Sit tight.â
With that, he abruptly hung up. Prick. Even if he was helping, he could have had a bit more bedside manner. Well. It was two in the morning; if he was awake at this time, he probably had something serious going on.
It didnât take long for Kingy to ring you, your phone buzzing with an unfamiliar number, and you picked up with a heavy sigh,
âHello?â
âAlright, duck? Price said you wanted a ring?â
âWhat I wanted was support, with the whole âmy boyfriend might dieâ thing.â
âAh. Gotcha. Still reeling after the whole hospital thing?â
âI mean, he was blown up. How am I supposed to take that on the chin?â
âHeâs been blown up plenty, to be fair. Itâll take more than that to kill him.â
âThat doesnât make me feel any better, Kingy.â
âWell, what do you want? I wonât lie and say itâll be easy. My husband still worries every time I deploy, and heâs had to deal for a good few years now.â
You hadnât realised anyone else even had a relationship. They all seemed like permanent bachelors to you. You folded your coat underneath you to take away some of the coldness that was seeping up from the concrete into your skin.
âHow does he deal with it?â
âI dunno. Faith, I âspose. Faith that Iâll come back to him, that my lot will take care of me. Ultimately, I think it comes down to the person. He can deal with me being in danger. He doesnât love itâ who wouldâ but he manages. And I think thatâs about the size of it. You think you can manage it?â
It was a hard fucking question, and one you didnât have an answer for.
âTell you what. How about me and you get summat to eat? Thereâs a late night kebab place near you.â
You were well aware of that place, having ended many a drunken night trying to convince the manager to call you âboss manâ. It hadnât worked, but youâd never stopped trying.
âAlright, I could go for a kebab.â
Half an hour later, you were sat in the car park with Kingy and his husband, picking at chips as you listened to Danny,
âWhat Kingy forgets to mention is the therapy. A lot of therapy. Which is a weird, innit, youâd think itâd be them over there with the shrinks, but apparently theyâre good for us waiting at home too.â
âAnd that helps?â
âWell, that and a bit of fluoxetine to take the edge off.â
You chewed on the chips thoughtfully as you considered Dannyâs words. His husband was in just as much danger as Simon on the regular, but he seemed content with the situation, happy, even. Could that be you? Would there ever be a point where you wouldnât have nightmares about Simon dying somewhere awful?
â-and there might even be a little one on the way next year.â
You tuned back in to the conversation, âYou two having a baby?â
Danny grinned, âIf they tire of making us jump through hoops. Honest, they talk to our mums, our mates, our bosses, Iâve got reference letters coming out my arse at this point.â
Kingy snorted, âYeah, it is a bit full on. But we make it work. If youâre right for each other, youâll figure it out. Donât get me wrong, thereâll be some hard graft, but youâll come out the other side stronger.â He put down his coke to look at you, âI really think Ghost would put the work in.â
âShe dumped Ghost?â Danny cackled, âFuckinâ hell. No wonder heâs been such a cunt lately.â
You arched a brow at Kingy, and he elaborated, âOur man might have been a bit on the grumpy side lately.â
âHe made a recruit faint. And then bollocked him for fainting.â
âI think itâs more the crutches than anything. He doesnât like being anything other than peak physical fitness.â
You must have looked guilty, because Kingy immediately lectured you, âNow, donât be going back to him out of obligation. Nor pity, either. Ghostâs a big boy. The only one responsible for his mental health is himself; donât you be taking that on. Not to be harsh, but heâll be perfectly fine without you.â
You tossed a chip to a nearby pigeon, pondering Kingyâs words. What did you want? Well, dumb question; you wanted Simon. The dilemma was how much heartache would you be willing to go through for him? Would it be worth it? There was no comparing him to anyone else. Heâd brought you stunning flowers, heâd given you cats, driven out in the middle of the night just to give you a lift home, watched Twilight with your girls, even called in the middle of a damn battlefield just to wish you a merry Christmas. Fuck. Youâd never even come close to having that level of dedication before, and here you were about to throw it all away.
Kingy stopped bickering with his husband about mushy peas so he could instead prod you with his wooden fork, âPenny for your thoughts?â
âI think I made a huge cock up by leaving him.â
Danny muttered âIâll sayâ under his breath, and Kingy elbowed him in the ribs before continuing, âItâs not too late to fix things. Ghostâs been discharged to the watchful eye of the medics on base. Just say the word and Iâll take you there.â
Would it be rude to ditch Kate and Helen at your house? Probably, but they did both own keys to it, and were more than happy to make themselves breakfast rummaging through your cupboards.
âAlright. Take me.â
The base felt a lot spookier in the dark. Youâd only ever been here during the day, when it was creepy enough, but now you half expected demons to leap out at you from every corner. Kingy didnât seem so bothered, whistling to himself as he keyed in the code to the building, covering the keypad with his hand as he did so. You might have been offended if you hadnât already broken into this very base twice before. Kingy pulled the door open, then ushered you through, his voice quiet, âFair chance heâs asleep, given itâs about three in the morning. Mind you, he has been pulling all-nighters.â
He hovered at the door, and you looked down the hallway, then back at him, âNot coming?â
âHeâs the only one sleeping in this building. Wakes at the drop of a hat, so he banned everyone else from sleeping anywhere near him. Guarantee he will have woken up just from me opening this door.â He pointed down the corridor, âLast door on your right. Have fun.â
With that, he left you, the door slowly swinging shut, leaving you alone with only the quiet sound of the halogen light bulbs buzzing overhead. You swallowed your nerves, walking down to the last door, wishing you were wearing something a little nicer than an oversized T-shirt and a pair of old leggings, as though youâd leapt right out of the late noughties. All you were missing was a statement owl necklace and a pair of uggs.
Simonâs door opened before you got to it. He hobbled out on his crutches, still wearing his cargo trousers like he had been in the hospital, though now his cast was decorated with both signatures and knobs. Typical. At least his arm wasnât in a sling anymore, though now that he was wearing a regular T-shirt, you could see the bruises and scrapes decorating his tanned skin. His eyes were narrowed, a scowl playing on his lips already as he struggled with the door. For once, they didnât soften as soon as he caught sight of you. You could practically see his guard being up.
âSimon. I came here to apologise.â Your voice sounded stilted and formal to your own ears, so you overcompensated, âI mean, I was such a dick in the hospital âcause you were injured and I was stressing about you being injured and I was tired, and they shut down the Greggs near me for refurb so I havenât been able to just have a steak bake instead of cooking and Iâm so knackered because-â
âCome to bed.â
âYou what?â
He sighed, âIâm tired, love. My fuckinâ leg hurts, my arm hurts, and my sodding ribs too. Donât make me stand around.â
Christ, he really was in a mardy. Not that you were going to turn him down, though. You took the weight of the door from him, letting him toss his crutches to the side and limp back to bed. You quickly took your shoes off and hung your coat over the back of a nearby chair, then pulled your leggings down, tossing them aside for now. He was already getting back in bed, pulling the duvet back up around his shoulders, eyes already closed. You hesitated for a moment before deciding to just go with it, slipping into bed beside him. Immediately, his arm snaking around you to gently pull you back against him, lips pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. The tightness went out of your stomach as he buried his face in your neck, his fingers linking with your hand as he held you against him. You couldnât help but speak again, not quite believing youâd been forgiven so easily, âI really am sorry, Simon. I do love you.â
His voice was soft and a little muffled, already sounding half asleep. âSuck my dick and Iâll forgive you.â
Shit, youâd take that.
âDeal.â
Simonâs snore was your only answer.
#jack writes#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley#cod#cod fanfic#cod mw2#ghost mw2#cod fic#simon ghost x reader
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I am too small to survive the world today. I ended up helping three guests simultaneously with no one to help me with processes I donât know yet like picking up a bed in another state while I try to juggle three people and the phones all at once.
#vent#the other coworker with me wouldnât leave her people to help or even pick up the fucking phone#so I also fielded two phone calls#and my manager who is supposed to share my shifts so I have help just left at 2#I feel violent about that#and itâs not the other ladyâs fault because she shouldnât have to be responsible for me#and Iâm so tired my peripheral vision is just static shaking and I want to cry or bite someone
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omg after reading your last request it made me think of my own. Katsuki x reader who is the older sister in her household. basically on top of the readers hero studies, she has to still be a second mother for her many siblings and is burnt out.
hope this isnât too much or anything :)
Agh I enjoyed writing this sm :3 feel free to change any sibling names !!
Solutions

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem! Reader
Summary: ruined plans by having to watch your siblings take a cute turn !!
Warnings: none, mainly fluff, bkg might be ooc
ââââââââââ ââ
ââ
â ââââââââââ
You were supposed to have a nice date with Katsuki, you had been stressed and he said heâd take you out to help you both take a break from hero work and your studies.
you told him to stay outside so you could change real quick but you said that unaware of what was gonna meet you on the other side.
As you walked in and took off your shoes you were greeted by your younger twin brothers Kyo and Tsuyoi wrestling, your little sister Hiyori crying and your angelic baby brother yuro hugging his blanket on the sidelines just watching.
You wanted to cry, the one day you thought you could share with your boyfriend was now ruined. âHey break it up you two.â You deadplanted grabbing both ten-year-olds by the back of their shirts but that didnât stop them from trying to throw themselves at each-other.
âHe started it y/n!â Kyo yelled pointing to the other boy that looked like a copy. âNo it wasnât!â Tsuyoi defended but you shut them up before they had any other words to throw.
âI donât care who did what whereâs mom?â Looking between the two waiting for an answer. âShes asleep, she said she needed to take a nap.â Kyo sighed trying to squeeze out of your hold.
You were at a defeat, she worked another night shift at the hospital and you couldnât just wake her up, but you were gonna have to tell Katsuki you had to cancel.
Walking out the door and shutting it behind you, he raised his gaze confused. âThought you were gonna change?â He tilted his head, âI canât suki, I need to watch my siblings. My mom worked the night shift and is taking a nap.â You fidgeted with your fingers trying your best to avoid his look.
âThatâs fine? Your siblings love me.â He gave a smug smile. The disappointment you were expecting never came, you were only met by him giving you another solution.
âAre you su-â the door you were leaning on opened to all your siblings peaking out to see who their sister was talking to.
âHey itâs Bakugou!â Tsuyoi shouted flinging the door open. âHey squirt.â He said ruffing the kids hair as he waved to all the rest of your siblings who thought foundly of him.
âSee they love me.â He said even smugger than before with a matching smirk. âHey I wanna show you the new video game I got!â Kyo said grabbing onto his hand dragging him into the house giving him just barely enough time to take off his shoes.
The rest of the night was surprisingly the most relaxed youâd been in a while, all of your hero studies you pushed yourself through no longer crowding your mind and to your shock Katsuki was weirdly good with your siblings.
Despite you having more brothers Katsuki never failed to include your little sister into whatever the boys were doing.
âYou surprise me kat.â You whispered trying to not wake the 4 sleeping bodies that were against and on both you and Katsuki. All of you had sat down for a movie and boom they were all fast asleep.
âWhat do you mean?â He said still managing to have at least an arm wrapped around you.
âYouâre so good with them, they donât even like me that much.â You rolled your eyes with dramatic jealousy. âDunno, I just want them to think Iâm cool I guess.â He shrugged at the confession he thought was obvious.
âThat so.. sweet.â You gave him a soft smile and laid your head on his shoulder, doing your best not to wake the sleeping yudo on your lap.
âThank you, for helping me.â you rub your cheek on him trying to show some affection. âI canât kiss you so Iâm resorting to this donât think Iâm weird.â You tried to defend. âYouâre still weird.â He laid his head on top of yours. âShut up.â
#my hero academia#x reader#bakugou katsuki#bnha#bakugou x reader#bnha x reader#mha bakugou#mha x you#bakugou katuski x reader#bnha bakugou#bakug0uzb1thc#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugou#katsuki x you#bakugo katuski#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki#katsuki x y/n#bakugou x you#bakugou x reader fluff
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defrost | s.r.
in which the heat goes out in your apartment and Spencer comes up with a creative idea to keep warm
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: fingering, hand job, good old fashioned dry humping, softdom!spencer, masturbation is referenced, unprotected p in v sex, sex on the floor (!!!), kissing, established relationship word count: 2.8k a/n: smut? havent seen that word since october. well past due if you ask me :-) hope you enjoy
It took entirely too much of your focus not to trip on the comforter that you were hauling from your bedroom, adding it to the heap of linens that youâd collected. The heat had gone out in the entire apartment complex earlier that afternoon, and while it was originally supposed to be fixed by five, the time was pushed back until the gas company finally just told you the issue wouldnât be resolved until the morning.
Luckily, Spencer had managed to light the fireplace while you gathered every linen from the apartment and arranged a makeshift bed in front of the hearth, but even when you sat in front of the crackling flames, you were still cold. Pulling the cuffs of your sweatshirt over your hands, you tucked them beneath your thighs in an attempt to defrost yourself, you looked up at your boyfriend in desperation, âWhen did they say the gas would be back on?â
âThey said eight, but before that, they said six, so thereâs really no accurate measurement that they could provide. I hope weâll know more in the morning,â he told you, taking a seat next to you and draping a blanket over your shoulders, making sure you were cozy before grabbing one for himself.
You sighed, admiring the way the movement of the fire reflected in his eyes. The two of you had ordered out for dinner, discarded takeout containers were in organized chaos on the coffee table, and two mugs were sitting on coasters filled with warm tea. Your range was out of commission, but thankfully, you had electricity. Admittedly, you were milking the situation, opting for candles over your lamps.
Spencer leaned over and nudged you gently with his blanket-covered elbow, âAre you warm enough?â He asked, looking around for another blanket to hand off to you, but coming up empty.
âIf the gas isnât back on by tomorrow afternoon, we should book a hotel,â you suggested, though, with your luck, Spencer would probably be called on a case tomorrow, leaving you to freeze on your own.
He furrowed his brows in response, âYou were the one who didnât want to stay in a hotel tonight, though?â
Shrugging, you looked at the thermostat on the wall, too far away to read, but you imagined it telling you that the apartment was becoming an industrial-sized icebox. âI donât like staying in hotels if I can help it, I like having my things and my routine,â you responded as if he didnât already know this about you.
âBut?â He pressed.
âBut Iâm cold,â you told him, wrapping your blanket tighter around yourself and smiling when he opened his blanket cocoon. Gratefully, you obliged, shuffling yourself over to him and settling into his lap, sighing in contentment when he closed the blanket around you, âOh, youâre warm.â
You rested your head on his shoulder, and Spencer took the opportunity to press a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose. âIs this better?â
Nodding, you closed your eyes and let your body relax into his, his arms wrapped around you, adding a reinforcementâa border of warmth, if you will. âYeah, much better,â you murmured, trying to think warm thoughts.
âYou know, it would be easier to share body heat if we werenât wearing clothes,â Spencer told you, shifting one of his arms until his hand was on your waist, giving it a slight squeeze.
A shy smile bloomed on your face, turning your face to bury it in his neck, though the warm glow of your cheeks was a welcome sensation, âAre you trying to get in my pants right now?â
Spencer hummed, shifting beneath you slightlyâa telltale sign that he was turned onâand gripping both of your hips, âTechnically, Iâm trying to get you out of them.â
Now grinning, you leaned forward, pressing your torso against Spencerâs until his back was against the blankets youâd stacked for your makeshift mattress. You took a moment to adjust the fabric that surrounded you, removing the layers of separation between you and Spencer when you finally reached his sweater. Carefully, you slipped your fingers beneath his layers of clothes, pausing abruptly when he inhaled sharply, âAre you okay?â
âYour hands are freezing, honey,â he told you; a lightness was present in his tone as if he was trying not to laugh.
Withdrawing your hands, you instead stuck them beneath his back, hoping to warm them up while you craned your head up to his, placing your lips on his and immediately sighing into him. You settled the rest of your body across his, bringing your knees up to his hips and grinding your core against his hardening length. The layers of clothing between you were proving to be a hindrance, but you werenât ready to rid yourself of any insulation just yet.
You bunched up the wool of Spencerâs sweater in your hands, finding a rhythm between your rocking hips and moving lips, patiently waiting for the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth and hoping your hands were sufficiently warm when you moved your dominant hand back to his torso. Slowly, you lifted your hips from his and tucked your fingers beneath the waistband of both his flannel pajama pants and briefs, making sure he didnât flinch at the temperature of your fingers when you wrapped them around his cock.
His mouth opened against yours at the contact, a low moan vibrating in his throat as you kept your hand in his pants. This was your opening, leaving you to slip your tongue in his mouth, deepening the kiss and speeding up your heart rate.
Moaning against his lips, you needed to sacrifice your kiss for the sake of a hand job, ducking your head so that you could focus on the flick of your wrist, the elastic waistbands working against you.
Spencer craned his head, dropping a kiss on the crown of your head, you could feel his abdomen tensing under your arm as you reached your other hand down to try and push his pants over his hips. âYou wanna take my clothes off, donât you?â
Your ministrations slowed as you peered up at him through your eyelashes and nodded, taking your cheek between your molars.
You hummed as Spencer used his grip on your waist to pull you up until your faces were close enough to meet again, he kissed you again, chastely this time, before whispering, âYou first.â
Bracing yourself for the cold apartment air to brush against your skin, you assisted Spencer by pulling your arms through the sleeves of your sweater, gritting your teeth while he tugged it over your head. You were pleasantly surprised when the air surrounding you remained insulated, too distracted by the heat to think about the way Spencer was pushing your pants down.
While you regained your focus, you helped him discard your pants, kicking them off into the abyss of blankets that you were still cocooned in. âAre you still warm enough?â Spencer asked, dragging his knuckles up and down your bare waist as he looked up at you.
âYeah,â you asked, the way he was so concentrated on keeping you warm and comfortable sent a flurry of butterflies to your stomach, making you all the more needier. âSpence,â you whispered, thinking about all of the layers of fabric that still separated the two of you.
He pulled you close to him, looking to the side before rolling you both over until he was on top of you. You quickly got to work, tugging at the hem of his sweater and relishing in every inch of exposed skin that touched yours. The inherent eroticism of skin-to-skin contact was beginning to drive you crazy, and Spencer noticed. He tossed his sweater off to the side, laughing lightly as you disappeared beneath the covers, finally pulling his flannel pajama pants off until it was up to him to get them off the rest of the way. Once you peeked your head back above the covers, you saw the lovesick grin on his face. âHi,â he whispered, reaching a hand up to cup your face.
You reflected his smile back at him, âHi,â you murmured, studying his face while he kept his every attention on you.
âYou look so pretty like this,â he said, moving his hand down to grip your thigh, parting your legs around his waist while you kept your eyes on him.
Raising your eyebrows, your face warmed at his claim, âWhat? Beneath you?â You teased, grinning so broadly that you stuck your tongue beneath your teeth to try and tame the smile.
He didnât falter. Instead, he tilted his head to the side and nodded, âWell, yes,â he admitted. âIt gives me the opportunity to do things like this,â he said, dropping his hand down to your core, his eyes on yours as your mouth parted in anticipation. âItâs much easier to see your face while I touch you when youâre beneath me.â
As he spoke, his index finger slipped between your folds, causing your stomach to twist even as he was just barely grazing your clit with his knuckle. âAnd here I thought it was a control thing,â you challenged, your voice weaker than youâd originally hoped, practically breaking off into a whimper.
âThat certainly doesnât hurt,â he whispered, using his finger to spread your slick over your pussy, any sounds muffled by the blankets that still surrounded you. âBut nothing will ever beat the look on your face when I slip my finger inside of you,â he teased, but his words didnât reflect his actions, leaving you slightly disappointed.
You hummed, leaning your head back and checking on the fire before looking back up at Spencer, âYou have an eidetic memory, donât you have enough of me in your spank bank at this point?â
Spencer shook his head, watching you with an undying interest as he slipped his index finger into you tantalizingly slowly. Your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth parted, and a small, choked noise escaped your lips. âThere it is, honey,â he cooed. âNo memory will ever do that justice.â
Nodding, you forced yourself to open your eyes and meet his, studying the ring of gold surrounding his irises while his hand found a rhythm. Lifting your hips as his thumb applied pressure to your clit, you gasped at the sensation, your cunt clenching around his finger while his ministrations refused to cease. âSpence,â you breathed, âfeels good.â
âYeah?â He asked, taking your reassurance as a hint to add a second finger to his ministrations, âI like it when you let me take care of you, you spend too many nights alone in our bed for my liking.â
You lifted your hands up, just barely peeking over the blankets so you could place them on his shoulders, âIâve never minded,â you reminded him. He always comes back to you, albeit in various states of disarray sometimes, but he always comes home.
He groaned, burying his face in your neck and leaving gentle kisses on the soft skin, never sucking long enough to leave a mark, but he paused once he reached your collarbone, âI mind,â he muttered against your skin, kissing down your chest until his lips were level with your breasts, taking the opportunity to take your nipple in his mouth.
As he sucked gently on the sensitive bud, you became all too aware of the familiar knot building in your lower belly, âOh,â you gasped, your hips bucking up when he hummed against your chest in response, the vibrations going straight to your core, tightening the knot.
Spencer switched nipples, latching onto your other breast while he continued the pressure on your clit. A strangled moan made its way through your throat as the rubber band in your stomach snapped, and your orgasm rippled through you, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your entire body while Spencer continued to work you through it. He separated himself from your chest, leaving tender kisses on your jawline while you tried to remember how to breathe.
Your orgasm ebbed into a dull ache between your thighs, and you let your head fall back against the blankets, wincing when Spencer withdrew his fingers from your cunt. You caught your breath while Spencer adjusted himself, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking your juices from themâit made your walls clench around nothing. âPlease,â you found yourself saying, looking up at him with wide, lust-blown eyes.
âPatience,â he cajoled, pinching your hip lightly as you squirmed beneath him. âAre you feeling okay?â
You nodded, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and trying to practice the virtuous trait, âI feel really good,â you assured him, your breath hitching when you felt his tip aligned with your entrance. âWe should have sex on the floor more often,â you told him.
He smiled dropping a small kiss on your nose and deciding to adjust the blankets around you. Although, funny enough, you were beginning to get too warm. âYou look gorgeous,â he told you, gently pressing into you, only part of the way.
Releasing a shuddering breath, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and met his shining eyes, which he accepted as an okay for him to slide further into you. You were sure you did not look gorgeous, in fact, you could feel your hair sticking to the back of his neck while he sheathed himself inside of you, giving you time to adjust and smoothing your hair out of your face in the interimâas if he had read your mind.
Your walls clenched around him, and he dropped his head in the crook of your neck, âYou feel so good,â he muttered, lifting his hips from yours before pushing back in.
âHoney,â you whispered up at him before he found a rhythm, âWill you kiss me?â
You only saw his look of incredulity for a moment before his lips were on yours, you hummed contentedly into his mouth, your breathing faltering as he continued to thrust in and out of your cunt, finding a rhythm.
One of your hands dropped to the side of his neck, cupping his jaw while you moved your mouth on his, taking control of the kiss while he focused on fucking you. Separating your lips only to take a breath, your other hand was on his back, nails lightly grazing his otherwise unmarred skin as you searched for any semblance of stability.
 There had to have been something about the atmosphere, the various flames around you, or the heat of the blankets that covered you, that brought your orgasm on so quickly. You could already feel it building, and you gasped into Spencer as you felt it.
Using one hand to keep himself hovering just above you, he took his other hand and hooked it beneath your thigh, hoisting your leg up and opening your cunt even more to him. The change eased the pressure in your core, giving him more time to build up his own, but you had to separate your lips, âGod, Spence,â you said, somewhere between overstimulated and overheated as your cunt clenched around his length.
He sighed, hot breath against your neck as he assured you, âIâve got you.â
Just like that, you were a goner, head thrown back in complete bliss as your walls pulsed around Spencerâs cock, the sensation bringing on his own orgasm. You were trying to catch your breath while his cum spurted out inside of you. âOh,â you sighed as he dropped your leg, letting your muscles stretch as Spencerâs hand massaged the inside of your thigh.
âAre you alright?â He murmured, dropping a soft kiss to your forehead.
You nodded, forcing yourself to open your eyes and look up at him, âYeah,â you answered breathlessly, wincing slightly when he pulled out of you, more at the feeling of the fluid sliding out of you than anything else.
Spencer hummed, âAre you sure?â He brought a hand up, skimming his knuckles over your cheekbone, âIt seems like somethingâs wrong.â
Shaking your head, you brought your hand up to hold his, leaving a soft kiss on his palm, âPromise,â you assured him. âIâm just warm, and I know I have to get up to go pee,â you told him, adjusting yourself on top of the rumpled blankets.
He gave you a lopsided smile in response, âWhat do you say you get up to pee, and Iâll get us some water while youâre gone?â He offered, bringing a smile to your face. âWhen we get back, we can watch a movie, your pick.â
Grinning up at him, you run a hand through his hair before ruffling it, âI say youâve got yourself a deal.â
#spencer reid smut#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds smut#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds oneshot#written by margot#margot after hours#softdom!spencer
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Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)
hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!
summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam
warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!
word count: 2,925
nsfw after the cut!!
You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.
...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.
Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up.Â
Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.
"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.
"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?"Â
His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows.Â
"Use your words," he demanded.Â
"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes.Â
"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.
"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.
"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.
He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.
âSuck,â he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.
âYou know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,â he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasnât fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.
âPoor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be âMikeyâs little slut,â werenât you? Thatâs what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?â he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.
âAwh, donât be mad, princess,â he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. âYou really think Iâm done with you?â
With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mikeâs hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.
ââM about to fuck you so hard you see stars,â he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.
âYouâre gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,â he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.
âFuck, Mikey, baby, Iâm gonna fucking cum,â you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.
âCum for me, baby,â Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.
âYouâre such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,â he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mikeâs cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mikeâs moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.
âThatâs it, baby, feels so good,â he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.
âLetâs get you cleaned up,â he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.
âYou always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,â you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.
âI love you, of course I want to make sure âm taking care of you,â he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. âThank you for letting me⊠you know.. blow off some steam,â he said, wiggling his brows.
âOf course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?â you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.
âI just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. Iâm so used to having to fight that I donât know how to shut up and listen,â he mumbled. âIt was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning⊠I just.. I donât know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?â he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.
âI love you, Mike, so much. And Iâm so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just⊠thank you,â you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.
âI love you, princess, you donât even know how much,â he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.
âOh, and baby?â he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. âWear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.â You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.
When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks youâd left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someoneâs eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldnât think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.
#josh hutcherson x reader#mike schmidt#mike schmidt fluff#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt imagine#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson fanfic#josh hutcherson fluff#josh hutcherson imagine#mike schmidt smut#olderbf!mike
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iâm actually obsessed with your jealousy promptsâŠ. whatâs better than the most jealous mf around???
seungcheol + âthey did that on purposeâ
â
seungcheol x celebrity!reader â word count: 970 â part of my closed jealousy drabble game.
â established relationship, secret relationship, pet name ['baby'], angst [if you squint]. combined with another prompt c/o anon: "i'm going to scream."
"I'm going to file a complaint."
Seungcheol is being dead serious, and yet you laugh at him. You laugh!
"Baby," you start to say, your tone edged with that familiar exasperation you take on whenever you think he's being silly. He's having none of it tonight, though. He knows his theory is one hundred percent correct.
And so he juts his lip out in a pout, crosses his arms over his chest, and whines out his next words like he's some teenager instead of a 29-year-old man. "They did that on purpose!"
That, being the recent announcement of who would be the special hosts of MBC's year-end music show. When Seungcheol first caught wind that a member of SEVENTEEN might have the chance to share a stage with you, he had been ecstatic. While your relationship wasn't public knowledge yet, he was ready to make it glaringly obvious should he be chosen to be your co-host.
He's had whole daydreams about the moment. The hand he'd casually rest on the small of your back. The smile he'd give you that would have Twitter speculating for weeks. Maybe he could even post something vague on Weverse afterwards, some cutesy message of I'm so happy~ â€ïž
Alas, all his hopes were dashed when the memo about the hosts went out this morning.
"They put you with Jeonghan on purpose," Seungcheol grumbles.
Jeonghanâ the one person Seungcheol wouldn't be able to openly go up against. The company must've known Seungcheol would throw his idol image out of the window, must've known that there was only one person who Seungcheol wouldn't pick a fight with.
The fact that Jeonghan is being extra annoyingâ relentlessly teasing, calling himself 'Mr. Steal-Yo-Girl'â has only added insult to injury.
You reach out to tug Seungcheol into your side. Even though he's technically supposed to be upset, he can't help himself; the leader leans into your touch, draping himself over you.
Your couch has always been way too small for the two of you, even though Seungcheol insist it's a 'perfect' fit. He considers it perfect because he can always pull you into his lap and bury himself in you, which is exactly what he does now despite his sullen mood.
When your fingers instinctively entangle in his hair, a part of him relaxes. That very part bristles just as quickly when you quip, "Well, Jeonghan is the pretty one in the group."
"I'm going to scream," Seungcheol threatens.
You know your boyfriend enough to understand that he's at least half serious. "Alright, alright," you huff, giving his hair a light, reprimanding tug.
Seungcheol hisses at the sensation. You appease him by pressing your lips to his cheek.
You shift in his hold so your gazes can meet. The look on your face only makes Seungcheol's frown deepen. You're enjoying this. You're amused. You're not taking his predicament seriously.
"If he's so pretty," Seungcheol starts, ignoring the way you begin to roll your eyes as you anticipate what's to come.
"If he's so pretty, why don't you date him, then?" he asks, punctuating his words with a dejected sniffle. Seungcheol looks the part of a wounded puppy.
Eyebrows furrowed? Check. Lips pursed? Check. Boba-like eyes, meant to tug at the heartstrings? Check, check, check.
Unfortunately for him, your long-term relationship has steeled you to his petulance. You take his attempt at moping in stride, opting to press another kiss, this time to the corner of his mouth.
"Because I don't want him," you say patiently. "I want you, baby."
The words still manage to make Seungcheol's heart soar. He tries not to let it show on his face. He's trying to prove a point here. He refuses to be won over by sweet nothings, even if you're so lovely as you say them.
"You're going to be on stage with him instead of me." Seungcheol's arms tighten around your waist, his expression darkening slightly. "People are going to ship you."
A surprised bark of laughter escapes you. "How do you know what shipping is, huh?"
"You're changing the subject."
"Babyâ"
The words come out of Seungcheol in a rush, fueled by his gripe with management's decision. "I want people to ship us," he grouses. "I want them to look at us and think, 'They look like they'd be the perfect couple,' because we are!"
Something softens in your expression, then, and Seungcheol knows exactly why. Promises of going public have been made since the beginning, but now it's several years in and there's no relationship announcement in sight for either of you.
Seungcheol's voice is quieter, a little more even, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.
"I just want everybody to know that I love you," he says, the words muffled against your skin. "And that you love me, too."
You stroke Seungcheol's hair soothingly. He relaxes at the familiar ministration, letting his breaths even out.
"Soon," you mutter. "I promise, baby. We'll get that really soon."
Seungcheol bites back the urge to say that it's been soon for the past three years. This is something beyond both of your control. He's not about to make you feel guilty for something neither of you can change.
He settles for the next best thing. He tilts his head just so, allowing him to catch your lips in a kiss. It's sweet and unhurried. His favorite type.
It's the kind of kiss that makes the endless 'soon's worth it.
When you pull away for air, he wordlessly reaches for his phone. You're a bit out of breath as you watch him angle his screen away from you and type something out.
"What're you doing?" you ask, craning your neck to try and catch a glimpse.
"E-mailing the CEO of MBC," he says matter-of-factly. "To make me your co-host instead of Hannie."
"Choi Seungcheol!"
#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol drabble#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt imagines#seventeen drabble#svt drabble#seventeen imagines#daegutowns#( THIS TOOK FOREVERRRRR I'M SAWREE )#( first drabble of the year. it is what it is !!! )#( sulky csc u mean everything to me )#( looked @ so many pics of pouting cheol for htis. )#(đ) page: svt#(đ„Ą) notebook
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NSFW
He was your loyal, attentive knight. You had been childhood friends, ever since you saved him after sneaking out of the palace walls. Since then, he had been training so one day, he could take care of you.
At first, he saw you as what you were, the princess he was meant to serve. You were intelligent, beautiful, and most importantly you were kind. Your people loved you, and you loved them.
And you loved him too, a fact you would share daily throughout your childhoods. When he started training to be a knight at the young age of 10, you were always there to bandage him up and let him lay his head in your lap after a tough day. You were both children, but he clung to you like a child would his mother. He was often scolded by the maids and senior knights for his clingy behavior. You were the princess and he was getting too old to be staying so close.
He would be a teenager soon, which meant the days of childhood innocence and days of fun spent with his princess would be over. Once she turned 13, she wouldnât be able to interact with any males besides her personal knight.
He worked his way up the chain, seeing you in secret when he could manage. You missed him, and as the years passed by his innocent, platonic love was starting to shift into something more⊠lustful. He caught himself staring when you bent over to pick up your fallen books, his eyes following your plump hips as you walked away.
No, he couldnât see you that way. It was against his code of conduct, his knightly duty was to protect you and your innocence so that you could find a suitable husband one day and bear an heir to the throne.
But at knight, when he laid along in his chambers, he would stroke his hardened cock to the thought of filling you with his seed, claiming you both body and soul. It was a nasty, sinful thought he had to keep to himself, he knew that.
It was hard though, when you were just so tempting.
It took him 6 years to become your own personal knight. You were 19 years old now, marrying age. He held you to his chest as you sobbed at night with the knowledge that you would have to marry someone you didnât love.
He tried his best to comfort you and push away his feelings of love and lust, but god did it get difficult when you begged him to help you escape. He should have refused and reported your urge to flee to the king⊠but he didnât.
âIâll help you escape, but⊠I need to ask you a question first.â
You nodded, clinging to him desperately as his hands ran over your hair. âMy princess, you⊠cry as if you are already in love. Could I know the person who has won your heart?â
It hurt him to ask this, making his own heart wrench painfully. You nodded, sniffling slightly as you look up him through tear filled eyes, your cheeks warm. âYes⊠itâs you. I love you, I have for years⊠being apart from you has been so hard⊠please, I donât want to marry anyone else but y-â
Before you could finish your sentence, he had already pinned you down, his lips pressing into yours. That was all he needed to hear, he would be claiming you for his own now, and as soon as he was done heâd be stealing you away.
âMine⊠my princess, my everythingâŠâ
He spent the night worshipping your body, making sure you knew just how much he truly loved you. He fucked into you, his finger rubbing soft, attentive circles into your needy clit. It didnât take long for him to fill your womb with his seed, making you his and his alone for all eternity.
He had deflowered his princess, taking her virginity and her innocence, the exact opposite of what a knight was supposed to do, but he didnât care anymore. You were his princess, yes, but you were also his first and only love.
And he would never let you go.
ââââââââ
||GOJO ||GETO || NANAMI ||CHOSO ||KURAPIKA ||LEORIO ||CHROLLO ||ARMIN ||EREN ||JEAN ||REINER ||RENGOKU ||GIYUU ||OBANAI ||SANEMI ||YOUR FAV ||
#gojo x reader#geto x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso x reader#kurapika x reader#leorio x reader#chrollo x reader#armin x reader#eren x reader#jean x reader#reiner x reader#rengoku x reader#sanemi x reader#giyuu x reader#obanai x reader#x reader#anime x reader#requests open#headcanon#reader insert#smut requests#aot smut#jjk smut#hxh smut#kny smut#fem reader#female reader#fem!reader#chubby!reader#jjk nanami
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đđš | ᎠáŽáŽáŽÉȘÊáŽ!áŽáŽáŽ x ê°!ÊáŽáŽáŽ
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Moonlight Cravings.



Short summary: Vampire!Tom has known heâd make you his ever since he first met you. When his need for your blood grows unbearably strong, he knows itâs time to finally make a move.
A/N: As I plan on writing more than just one full-length fic for my Vampire AU anyway and havenât had the time to work on it yet, I thought Iâd get started with a how-vampire!Tom-would-slowly-declare-his-presence-in-your-life drabble/fic.
wordcount: 1,0k
Tomâs presence looms over your life like a shadow. He seems to be wherever you go, and though he never pays you much attention, he still is there. Either casually leaning against the wall near the class you are attending next or accompanying his friends to the Three Broomsticks when you are there as well. Which is quite ironic, considering most people know Tom doesnât even like butterbeer.
In fact, you are not quite sure if he likes anything really. Each time you share a class, Tom is mostly quiet, except for his witty remarks whenever professors ask questions. Even outside the classroom he doesnât talk much, mostly found in the library with his head buried in books. Well, as long as you are in the library as well, that is.
You donât think too much of it. Itâs Tom Riddle, after allânaturally one of the most handsome men you have ever laid eyes on, but oh so unreachable. You vividly remember a girl back in your third year asking him to attend the Yule Ball with her. It was a decision she made against the advice of practically everyone she asked, and it ended exactly the same way you had told her it would. Things like these never end well with him, so you donât even attempt questioning his behaviourâinstead, you think you are utterly delusional for even assuming there could be anything between the two of you.
Tom, on the other hand, is entirely consumed by you. From the moment he first caught your unmistakably sweet scent, he knew he had to have you, his mind going blank every time you simply passed him in the corridors. Itâs as if there is a force pulling him towards you, one that he canât control, one that clouds his mind and strips him of any sane thoughts he had left. Taming his needs as a vampire has never been difficult. Not until he met you, that is.
And as soon as bouquets of your favourite flowers show up in your dorm every other week, accompanied with small gifts like your pralines of choice, you canât help but wonder whether there was a chance Tomâs strange behaviour did have something to do with this. Itâs these thoughts that keep you up at night and make you zone out in class. There is not much you can do except wonder who it is that admires you, but you sure have a guess.
During yet another restless night, you decide to get up and take a walk through the castle to calm your mind. The hallways are faintly illuminated by the moonâs glow, shining brightly as it completes yet another full circle around the earth. Although your steps are as quiet as they can possibly be, you soon feel the air shift around you, as though someone is watching you. But when you turn around, no one is there.
âYou shouldnât be wandering around the castle this late at night.â A voice coming from your right remarks, and you almost drop your wand, heart hammering wildly in your chest in response to the unexpected interruption. A tall figure emerges from behind a pillar then, and it takes you less than one second to figure out who it is. You had forgotten that Tom Riddle also happened to be a prefect.
Itâs too dark to make out much of his face, but there is an undeniable red glow that flickers in his otherwise dark brown eyes. Before you can even process the thought, he blinks, and itâs gone. Instead, the corner of his mouth lifts just slightly as he takes in your startled expression, raising his eyebrow expectantly.
 âI suppose I- I couldnât sleep. You must know, walking helps to clear my mind.â You manage to get out, and although it isnât a lie, your hesitation sure made it sound like one.
Tom huffs. âA selfish action that just cost your house ten points. Now, you surely wouldnât mind me escorting you to your respective dormitories?â
You donât try to argueâit is still Tom Riddle youâre dealing with after all. Instead, you respond with a small nod and retrace your steps with him by your side.
âWhat might your mind be troubled with?â he asks then, his voice cutting through the silence of the night. The question makes you tense slightly, your fingers curling tighter around your wand. Itâs the first time he actively looks for a conversation, the first time his presence feels intended and real.
You take a breath, not exactly knowing what to respond. âYour seemingly seventh sense for my whereaboutsâ doesnât seem like an appropriate answer after all.
The upcoming exam season saves you from the awkwardness. Although he doesnât seem to fully believe you, he lets it go, not speaking another word until you disappear behind your dormitory door.
But even then, you canât seem to sleep, the image of the red glow in his eyes lingering in your mind. You know there is something you can connect it to, and soon, a memory of a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson in your second year resurfaces.
Full moon. Pale skin. Red eyes. They all match, and yet you find it hard to believe. Vampires have been extinct for nearly 400 years in Great Britain, there was no real reason for you to think he could be one.
Right?
#im so excited to write more for this au!!!#im gonna try to be quick#just veeeery busy atm :((#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom marvolo riddle#tom riddle fic#tom riddle fanfiction#tom riddle fanfic#tom riddle vampire au#slytherin boys#slytherin#harry potter#vampire au#divider by strangergraphics#áŻáąđ© áŽáŽÊâê± áŽĄáŽÊáŽê± âá°.á#vampire!tom
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COWBOY SPENCE! COWBOY SPENCE! WE WANT COWBOY SPENCE!
Fluff. Kind of a continuation to this but not really. 1.3k. Also thank you anon for bringing back my cowboy spence agenda.
Spencer gives you a ride on his horse to watch the sunset.
-
"You're not supposed to be here," he said the moment he saw you enter the stable. And he was right, visiting his ranch on a random Tuesday evening was the last thing you should be doing.
Emily had sent you to interview someone tied to the case, and you managed to gather more information about the Unsub, which you shared with her over the phone. But on your way back to the police station, you realized Spencer's ranch was just a half-hour drive away from town. So you turned the steering wheel, hoping your boss wouldn't notice your impulsive detour.
"Well, you're supposed to reply to my text," you shot back, the sound of your boots echoing on the ground.
He offered a sheepish smile. "Sorry about that, I got caught up today, havenât had the chance to check my phone."â
"I guess some things never change," you remarked as you approached him standing inside the horse arena, hopping up onto the fence. "Give me a kiss."
Spencer chuckled softly, gently patting Mildred's mane as he stepped around her, the beautiful white horse who seemed to acknowledge your presence with a subtle bow of her head. As he reached your side, he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, his touch sending a rush of warmth through you.
This was exactly why you had wanted to see him. The absence of his presence had left a void you hadn't realized until now and you groaned when he gently pulled away. His touch lingered as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his concern evident in his voice.
"Aren't you going to get into trouble?"
"Maybe," you admitted with a playful shrug. "But some things are worth the risk, don't you think?"
"Emily wouldn't be too happy about that," he pointed out.
"She can do just fine without me for an hour or two," you countered before your attention shifted towards Mildred. "Hey, Millie!"
He laughed. "Millie? You've only met her once and you already have a nickname for her?"
You flashed him a grin. "Well, she just looks like a Millie to me," you said, reaching out to stroke Mildred's soft mane. The horse nuzzled against your hand affectionately, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"I think she likes her new name," he remarked. "Wanna take her out on a ride?"
Your eyes widened at the suggestion. "And break my back? I don't even know how to ride a horse."
"Come on, I'll ride with you," he insisted, leading Mildred towards the arena gate. With a quick hop, you jumped off the fence and caught up with him just as he stepped out of the gate, his horse following behind.
You hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you looked up at him from beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. "I don't think this is a good idea."
He met your gaze with a reassuring smile, his arm outstretched towards you. "You'll be fine, you trust me, right?"
His confidence was infectious, and despite your doubt, you found yourself nodding.
"Alright, let's do this," you said, placing your hand in his as he helped you onto Mildred's back. "Don't let go of me!"
"I won't," he said with a chuckle, and your foot stepped onto the stirrup as he steadied Mildred. With a deep breath, you swung your other leg over, settling onto the saddle.
"You ready?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement. But before you could answer, he smoothly mounted himself up and settled behind you, his presence comforting as Mildred began to move beneath you both.
"Holy shit," you couldn't help but mutter, feeling extremely conscious of sitting so high up on a horse. "This feels weird."
He moved his arms securely around you as he held onto the reins. "You're doing great," he said soothingly, his voice close to your ear. "Just take it easy, you'll get used to it in no time."
His words filled you with warmth, and you couldn't help but lean back against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. His arms around you gave a sense of security as Mildred carried you forward, and that was when you saw it, the vast expanse of his ranch unfolding before you.
The rolling hills, the sprawling fields, and the distant mountains dotted with trees and bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun painted a picturesque scene that took your breath away.
"Spencer Reid," you mused, your eyes tracing the landscape, watching a group of cattle running around at the side of the field. "You're rich rich."
He chuckled softly, his chest vibrating against your back. "I prefer to think of it as being fortunate."
"No wonder you don't want to work with us anymore."
"Honestly, thereâs a part of me that doesn't want to leave all this behind," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "But it's not just about the ranch. Being here reminds me of the simpler things in life, the BAU can be... overwhelming at times."
You understood his sentiment, "I get that," you said softly. âI'm just glad you seem happier now."
A soft smile tugged at the corners of Spencer's lips as one of his arms circled your waist. "Thank you," he murmured. "I'm actually happier with you here."
Your giggle danced through the air and his smile widened at the sound. With a gentle squeeze around your waist, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Look at the view."
You followed his gaze, looking out in front of you just as he urged Mildred to stop. As the horse came to a halt, you found yourself gazing out at the breathtaking scenery spread out before you.
The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The rolling hills and sprawling fields seemed to stretch on endlessly, while in the distance, the mountains stood tall against the horizon.
"It's beautiful," you whispered, the awe evident in your voice as you took in the stunning view.
Spencer's arm tightened around your waist as he leaned in. "Very beautiful.â
Your smile widened as you fished your phone out of your pocket to capture the moment, but as you faced the camera towards the scenery, the screen showed the front camera instead. You both burst out laughing, but then you took the opportunity to lean back against him and angle the camera right in front of you.
Spencer smiled as you cupped his cheek with your free hand, his stubble rough against your palm, before you snapped the moment. You then examined the result, admiring the way he was leaning close to you, his bright hazel eyes sparkling with warmth, with the soft lines of his smile at the corners of his eyes.
âIâm changing this into my wallpaper now.â
His grin widened as you showed him the picture.
"I like the sound of that," he said, his eyes lingering on the image with fondness. Just then, there was a sudden notification on your screen and you exchanged a quick glance with him before opening the message.
Boss Woman: You better not be visiting Reid
Boss Woman: Oh who am I kidding? Of course you are. Say hi to him for me
Boss Woman: But get your ass back to the station right now
His laughter echoed behind you. "Itâs like she has a sixth sense."
"I havenât even told her about us yet," you replied, shaking your head in amusement. "Let's head back before she sends out a search party."
With a nudge from him, he turned Mildred around and guided her on the way back to the ranch. And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the landscape in a warm golden light, you knew that this was worth the trouble. You felt the gentle sway of the horse and you couldn't help but smile, placing a hand on the arm circling your waist.
You were definitely going to visit him again.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#cowboy spence
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A Shot at Love | luke hughes
Luke hughes x reader
Warnings: none
I love this one
Masterlist
The excitement in the Prudential Center was undeniable. The New Jersey Devils were taking on a fierce rival tonight, and the arena was buzzing with energy. The crowd was a sea of red and black jerseys, fans eager to see their favorite players hit the ice. Among them stood Y/N and her friend Lilly, although they couldnât have been more different in their enthusiasm.
Lilly was the epitome of a passionate hockey fan. Sheâd been counting down the days to this game, proudly sporting her Jack Hughes jersey, bouncing on her feet as warm-ups started. Y/N, on the other hand, wasnât much of a hockey fan. She had tagged along to support Lilly but hadnât expected to find herself so wrapped up in the moment. Clad in baggy jeans and a plain white hoodie, she blended into the crowd of hardcore fans without really meaning to.
Lilly pressed a poster against the glass, holding it up with excitement. The sign was simple: **âWe drove 19 hours to get here. Can we have a puck?â** Y/N couldnât help but chuckle. It wasnât the most creative sign sheâd ever seen, but Lilly was determined, and her joy was infectious.
As the Devilsâ players skated around the ice, Y/Nâs attention drifted, but Lilly was glued to the glass, shouting and pointing, completely engrossed. Y/N had to admire her friendâs dedication, even if she didnât quite share it.
âLook at them, Y/N!â Lilly exclaimed, barely able to contain herself. âTheyâre right there! Oh my god, Jack looks amazing!â
Y/N just smiled, nodding along. âYeah, they seem⊠really good,â she replied, though she wasnât entirely sure what she was supposed to be looking at.
Meanwhile, on the ice, defenseman Luke Hughes had been glancing over at the crowd. It was part of the pre-game ritualâplayers often interacted with the fans, tossing pucks and exchanging smiles. But when Lukeâs gaze landed on Y/N, something made him do a double take. While everyone else was decked out in Devils gear, cheering wildly, there she stoodâunassuming, looking almost out of place but undeniably catching his eye.
Luke skated closer to the glass, noticing Lillyâs sign. He smirked. The sign was cute, and it deserved some recognition. But what really caught his attention wasnât Lillyâs signâit was Y/Nâs calm, almost detached demeanor, a stark contrast to the chaos around her.
As Lilly turned to talk to Y/N, holding the sign against the glass with one hand, Luke seized the moment. He skated right up and banged on the glass, making a sharp *thunk* sound that startled both girls.
Lillyâs head snapped around, her eyes going wide when she realized it was Luke Hughes standing just a few feet away. She practically bounced off the ground in excitement. Luke chuckled and pulled a puck from his pocket, tossing it over the glass to Lilly, who caught it like it was the most precious thing in the world.
âThank you!â she squealed, clutching the puck to her chest.
But Lukeâs attention shifted to Y/N again. She wasnât jumping around or shouting, but the way she smiled, a little amused and a little shy, made Lukeâs heart skip. He pointed directly at her.
Y/N blinked, taken aback. âMe?â she mouthed, unsure.
Luke nodded, then held up a finger, signaling for her to wait. He skated over to the bench and spoke to one of the trainers, pointing at something behind him. Moments later, Luke was handed an extra hockey stick. He grabbed a marker, uncapped it, and scribbled something on the shaft before capping the pen and skating back over to where the girls were standing.
Lilly was bouncing on her feet again, totally overwhelmed by what was happening, but Luke was focused solely on Y/N. He pointed at her once more before tossing the stick over the glass, aiming for her to catch it.
Y/N, wide-eyed, managed to grab the stick, her hands trembling slightly from the sudden attention. She looked down at the stick, her eyes scanning the shiny surface, and there it wasâLukeâs number, along with a small smiley face.
Heat rushed to Y/Nâs cheeks as she realized what he had just done. Her heart raced as she looked up, but Luke was already skating away, a mischievous grin on his face. Before he disappeared into the tunnel with his teammates, she saw Jack and Nico nudging Luke and laughing, clearly teasing him about what had just transpired.
Lilly grabbed Y/Nâs arm, practically shaking her. âOh my god! Luke Hughes just gave you his stick! *And* his number! Are you freaking out? Because Iâm freaking out!â
Y/N could hardly process what had just happened. âI⊠I donât even like hockey,â she muttered, though a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Her heart was still racing, and the blush on her face only deepened when she thought about the way Luke had winked at her before skating away.
She glanced down at the stick again, her fingers tracing the number he had written. Lilly was still rambling excitedly beside her, but Y/N could only focus on one thing: Luke Hughes, the quiet defenseman who had somehow made her feel seen in a crowd of thousands.
With a deep breath, Y/N pulled out her phone, the nerves still fluttering in her stomach as she added Lukeâs number to her contacts. She wasnât sure what would happen next, but she knew one thing for sureâthis was a game she wouldnât be forgetting anytime soon.
Please send me request and reblog
#hockey#nhl#nhl x reader#fanfic#luke hughes#luke hughes blurb#luke hughes smut#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes imagine#hughes brothers#new jersey devils x reader#new jersey devils#nhl43#nhl hockey#nhl fluff#nhl players#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#nhl fic#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes x oc#luke hughes x you
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LADS X Non-Mc Random Thoughts Pt2

I was planning to wait a while before posting again, but I unintentionally opened the floodgate in my mind and now I'm currently drowning, so I might as well drag you all with me XD. Also, if there is anyone out there who wants to use any of my random thoughts as ideas for your own fanfic, by all means, do as you please, just make sure you tag me, cause I want to read it, please and thanks. This account will also be a backup account to my SharieB25 account as it's not working at the moment. Random Thought: Destiny Cafe We can all agree that we may have read various fanfics that have considered Destiny Cafe as being empty with no staff or customers whatsoever, but what if it wasn't?
Destiny Cafe may as well be a fairly well-known and successful cafe to the point that it has two different locations, so it may have its fair share of loyal customers. So instead, I came up with the idea that both location has a section in their buildings, maybe a room or floor that not many of their customers use or know about. That's where our LIs like to stay the most. Maybe at first, they visit the cafe due to it being recommended to them by their friends or coworkers due the their delightful atmosphere and menu items, or maybe just them stumbling upon the cafe's location that they all visit at separate times. During their first visit, each LI realised, at the time of each of their separate visit, how crowded the cafe was, despite the quick service at the counter, he were hoping to get a seat somewhere, but the cafe was full, until the old yet sweet owner/manager of the cafe noticed the LI and asked if he would like to sit somewhere more private. At first, each LI at the time was hesitant, but then agreed and followed the manager to either a small room around the back of the cafe or up the stairs to the second floor of the building. The moment they each entered the space, the LI couldn't help but feel drawn to this cosy, closed or open space (depending on which cafe they are at). The manager told the LI that the space was supposed to turn into a storage room, but they couldn't bring themselves to do so for some odd reason. The old manager cleaned the best spot in the space for them to sit (like it in the photo, which I don't own as a disclaimer) and then told the LI that he can stay there as long as he likes before leaving him in the quiet, cosy room. The LI stayed in the room for a time, enjoying both his ordered drink and possible treat(s) before getting comfortable and ending up lounging in the chair (just like in the game) for a while. That was until he sensed a presence near him The same outworldly yet familiar presence from earlier, when he interacted with Mc, was now in the cosy space as if engulfing the entire room, causing the LI to tense up for a moment. The LI who was currently occupying the room at that moment knew that he was supposed to be the only one here in this room, but he couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes on him. The LI should be weirded out or concerned as to whether there were hidden cameras in the room, but instead, he felt completely at ease as if he didn't want to leave this very room as he stared at the wall in front of him. Then he spoke out loud to himself as if greeting a close, yet maybe old friend, who was by the door. In his mind, he thought he was going mad at this point, talking to himself... There was until the presence replied to him
That startled him, but his body didn't show it was as if he currently had no control of his body anymore. In his scrambling thought, he can't help but compare the voice to MC, yet it was so completely different as well. Was it due to the cute accent/tone in its voice when the unknown presence speaks? Or was it because his whole body finally became so at ease and off-guard in a sheer short moment that made him both intrigued and uneasy? Soon, he saw a sudden shift in front of him, as if the presence in the room was becoming almost personified. And when it did, the Li's breath hitched. It was a person... well, more like a holographic/ghostly version of a person. The unsettling thing was... The person looks almost exactly like MC... but not truly her at the same time. This person in front of the LI didn't look perfect or flawless like MC always have been in every way... but at that moment his heart was crying out for the person before him, as if after many years if not centuries out at sea, battling the rough rolling seas, he found the shine of a lighthouse from a distance.
I finally found you.
#love and deepspace#lads x non mc#lad x non mc#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#caleb love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#zayne x non mc! reader#xavier x non mc! reader#rafayel x non! mc reader#caleb x non mc! reader#sylus x non! mc reader#self aware au#non-mc
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Can you make something with Marc Bernal and reader as roommates?
đđđ
Lights Out~Marc Bernal



ă»â„ă»prompt list
ă»â„ă»masterlist -> part 2
ă»â„ă»who I write for
ă»â„ă»a/n: this was so cute i loved writing it sm. I hope you enjoy <3
It wasnât usual for boys and girls to share rooms at La Masia. But their situation had beenâŠunique.
Last-minute paperwork mix-up? Not enough available space in the girls' wing? A very persistent manager who said âItâs just temporary, youâll manage.â
And now she was here, in a room with twin beds and one bathroom, sharing her space with Marc Bernal.
At first, it had been awkward. Some rules were unsaid but formed between the two of them. No walking around shirtless (him), no leaving bras hanging off the door handle (her), headphones in after 10 p.m., and absolutely no crossing the invisible line between their sides of the room.
But after a few weeks, it became easier.
Marc wasnât loud or annoying like she expected. He was neat and surprisingly thoughtful. He always kept her favorite protein bars stocked because apparently âthey were on sale.â He also somehow managed to look stupidly good even in the hideous pjs he wears.
Like most nights, she laid in her bed after lights out, staring at the ceiling while Marc scrolled through his phone across the room.From two feet next to her, she heard him shift.
âYou canât sleep again?â he asked, voice soft in the dark.
âNot really,â she muttered. âMy brain wonât shut off.â
He was quiet for a moment.
âWant me to tell you a story?â
She smiled to herself. âWhat are you five?â
âI mean youâre the one who canât sleep, not me.â
She laughed, the sound barely a breath.
âFine. Story time, Bernal.â
She heard the rustle of his sheets as he turned on his side to face her. She did the same, the distance between their beds suddenly feeling... small.
âSo,â he began, voice hushed, âthereâs this girl. Sheâs at La Masia. Really smart, really competitive, really talented too. A bit of a pain in the ass at first.â
She narrowed her eyes even though he couldnât see her. âRude.â
âBut she was kind of brilliant, too,â he continued, ignoring her. âAnd this guyâŠhe ends up as her roommate by some random scheduling screw-up. At first they didnât talk much. She thought he was weird. He thought she was intimidating. But then she laughed at one of his dumb jokes one night. And suddenly it wasnât so awkward anymore.â
She didnât say anything, just listened with a small smile he probably couldn't see.
âShe started leaving him notes on his mirror before his games. He started buying her favorite snacks. They started talking before bed like this every night. And the guyâŠâ He paused. âHe realized heâs in trouble.â
Her breath hitched for a second.
âHeâs got this ridiculous crush on her,â Marc said quietly. âLike, heart-racing-when-she-laughs, canât-focus-when-sheâs-in-his-hoodie type of crush.â
Her heart stopped at his little confession.
His voice lowered slightly, like he was suddenly nervous. âHe tried to stop it. It wasnât part of the plan. He was supposed to focus on football. Keep it casual. But he couldnât help it.â
Silence took over, before she opened her mouth to speak. Her voice was barely above a whisper. âWhat happened next?â
He hesitated before talking again. âHe didnât know if she felt the same. He was scared sheâd freak out. Or worseâŠstop talking to him.â
She pushed her blanket down and sat up, heart racing.
âMaybeâŠâ she said, eyes locked onto his shadowy outline, âshe had a crush on him too. But she didnât want to mess things up either.â
Marcâs breath hitched and she could feel a smile form on his face. âYeah?â
âYeah.â
He shifted, one foot touching down like he was about to stand, but then he stopped.
âCan IâŠ?â
She slid to the edge of her bed and moved her hand into the space between. âWeâre literally two feet apart. You donât have to ask.â
He laughed under his breath nervously then crossed the small space between them.
When he sat beside her, they both stayed still for a moment, thighs brushing barely. Then, quietly, he leaned in. His head resting on her shoulder, then her head above his.
âIâve liked you since the week you beat me in shuttle runs and told everyone I was âpathetically slow.â â
She laughed into his hair. âThat was a nice day.â
He tilted his chin up gently before reaching up to cup her jaw gently, his hand a little shaky. âCan I kiss you?â his voice was low, almost desperate.
She nodded without hesitation and when he sat up and kissed her, it wasnât rushed or wild. It was familiar, soft, sweet. Like something that had been meant to happen.
When they pulled away, both of them smiling like lovestruck idiots, Marc couldnât help kiss the corner of her mouth again, which made her giggle silently.
âSoâŠdo we tell anyone? Or just keep it between these walls for now?â
She looked around their overstuffed and slightly-too-warm room, then smiled.
âFor nowâŠâ she said, brushing her nose against his, âletâs just stay right here.â
And just like that, the invisible line didnât exist anymore. Or maybe it didnât even exist since day one, but neither of them had the guts to admit it.
my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha @universefcb @mariejuli (lmk if you want to be added!!)
#football#football x reader#football blurb#football imagine#football one shot#footballer imagine#barcelona#fc barça#fc barcelona#fc barca#marc bernal one shot#marc bernal fanfic#marc bernal imagine#marc bernal x reader#marc bernal fluff#marc bernal x y/n#marc bernal x you#marc bernal blurb#marc bernal
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Merry (First) Christmas! (Sylus x reader)
Summary: Sylus never really cared about Christmas. Until you decided to decorate his house.
Words: 1671
Tags: fluffy; romance; domestic; established relationship.
Notes: I wrote this as a Christmas gift for @valkyyriia, and I decided to share it here now. So, even if I didnât name reader, I wrote this keeping her and her OC in mind ;)
Sylus never really cared about Christmas. Not that he disliked it, but it was just an ordinary day for him. Sometimes, people invited him to grand parties or auctions during the season, but that was about it. For that reason, he never bothered with decorating either. Why would he, anyway? He was the leader of a criminal organization in the N109 Zone, his house also served as his headquarters, and he was sure no one cared about such trivial things.
He hears giggles as he enters his house. That soft, joy-filled sound could only be yours. Youâd told him earlier youâd stop by, and heâs glad you actually made it. A small smile tugs at his lips at the thought of seeing you, but it quickly shifts to a dumbfounded expression when he steps into the living room. Boxes filled with tinsel, balls, and ornaments are scattered across the floor â red and silver, curiously matching his houseâs decor. A large tree stands in the corner, right beside the wall where his guns are displayed.
Luke and Kieran, who were supposed to be working elsewhere, are there with you, trying to help you untangle a string of lights. Mephisto is also there, perched on the couch next to you, and the sight of the crow wearing a tiny Santa hat is odd, to say the least. Sylusâ red eyes quickly scan the room again, and he huffs, realizing how effortlessly you manage to bend even his henchmen to your will.
âI see youâre making yourself at home, sweetie,â he says in a teasing tone, his deep voice resonating through the living room.
You look up, and your face lights up when you see him. You spread your arms wide as you reply in an excited voice, âHey, Sylus! Weâre decorating for Christmas!â
âI can see that,â he smiles at you for a second, then turns to the other men and the crow in the room, raising a questioning eyebrow at them. âAnd why are you here?â
âShe needed help!â the twins reply as if itâs the most obvious thing in the world, and Mephisto agrees with a âcaw.â
Sylus appreciates when they keep you company or watch over you for him when he canât, but he needs them to do their actual jobs. And, more importantly, he wants them gone so he can spend time alone with you. He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing just enough to send them a clear message. The twins catch on quickly, their shoulders slumping as they lower their hands and drop the string of lights onto the floor.
âWe need to go,â Luke says, sounding dejected.
âWe have work to do,â Kieran adds in the same tone.
âItâs okay, donât worry,â you smile. âThank you for your help, boys. Iâll make sure to add a little bonus to your gifts.â
This makes them perk up immediately, identical masked faces turning toward you at the same time. âOur gifts?â
âYes. I bought gifts for everyone. Iâll place them under the tree so we can open them together on Christmas.â
âI see,â Kieran says, turning to his twin. âWell, we have to go now.â
âWe have work to do, and we canât disappoint Boss!â Luke adds.
Their tones are happier now, and the way they rush out of the room tells you that the idea of receiving gifts boosted their morale.
âYou know theyâre going to search your car and your things until they find the gifts, right?â Sylus comments, finally taking long strides into the room and stopping by your side.
âYeah, I know.â You grab the string of lights and extend it to him to hold. âAnd you know youâll be my decorating assistant now.â
âI know,â he repeats your answer, grabbing what you gave him and continuing the twinsâ work of untangling the lights. âWhat inspired you to do... this?â His tone is genuinely curious, and you smile softly.
âI donât know,â you shrug. âI just thought itâs not something youâre used to doing, and since Iâm spending my first holidays here with you, I thought itâd be something nice to do together.â
âOh, so your plan was to make me help you all along?â
âMaybe,â you smirk. âI know you donât like to waste time with boring and useless things, butâŠâ
âThis isnât boring or useless,â he says, reaching for your face and gently holding your chin to tilt it upward. âNothing I do with you is, sweetie.â
âSmooth,â you mumble, fighting to keep your cheeks from blushing, but you know youâve lost the battle when he chuckles at you. âOkay, now letâs put this on the tree.â
The two of you have good synchronicity when working together, and decorating the tree is no different. You coordinate where most of the decorations go and how to place them, and Sylus listens attentively to follow your instructions â his tall stature being a great help for reaching the higher parts.
You smile and laugh, humming and singing Christmas songs. Sylus absorbs everything, engraving every single sound that comes out of your lips into his memory. Heâll make sure to learn all of them so he can sing with you.
You spin around with the tinsel, even daring to throw one around his shoulders as a playful gesture, and his lips curve into a soft smile that he only shows you. Something inside him warms up, something only you can, something that makes him want to do anything as long as it makes you smile at him.
He takes the tinsel off his shoulders and throws it onto yours, but he tugs at the ends, pulling you closer to him. You blink at him, and he lets out a soft laugh through his nose. His large hand reaches for your face, holding you as the most precious treasure in all the universes (and you are!). Red eyes lock with yours for a moment, and he leans in, his breath tickling your face. Your eyes flutter shut instinctively, and he smiles at how trusting youâve become with him before closing the gap between your lips. The kiss is gentle and sweet, and when youâre about to deepen it, you both hear a loud âcaw.â You jolt away from him, completely forgetting that Mephisto was still in the room.
Sylus rolls his eyes, turning his gaze to the crow. âGet out already.â
Mephisto opens his wings wide and flies out of the room, letting out another âcawâ on his way out.
âI⊠forgot he was still here,â you say sheepishly.
âThatâs hardly a problem, but heâs gone now,â he says, his eyes returning to you. He reaches for the tinsel around you, pulling you back into his arms. âAs we were sayingâŠâ
His lips are on yours again, and this time he doesnât wait to deepen the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth, drawing sighs from you. You throw your arms around his broad shoulders, your hand finding the hair at the nape of his neck and tangling in it. He kisses you again and again, softly and demanding, passionate and possessive, until youâre breathless and barely able to stand because your legs feel like jelly.
âWe need... to finish the decorations...â You somehow find the strength inside you to stop the kisses when you get a break to breathe.
âAre you sure, sweetie?â His voice is deeper, dripping with sensuality and not-so-hidden intentions â and he knows it.
âYes,â you mumble. You swallow hard, shifting your gaze to avoid falling into temptation again.
âAlright.â He gives you one last peck before taking a step back. âWe can continue this later,â he says with a sly smile, and you feel the anticipation coursing through your veins.
A little while later, youâre finally done. Youâre on the couch, his arm draped over you as you rest your head on his chest, admiring your work. The lights illuminate the room in an almost magical way, and even though you did your best to make everything match the aesthetic of his house, itâs still funny to see a Christmas tree in the corner of the room.
âItâs not that bad,â he comments, tilting his head to the side for a better look.
âYes, it looks good. It feels like⊠home,â you lift your head to look at him.
âIt does.â Sylus turns to you, his fingers gently caressing your face before his lips press a sweet peck to your forehead. âWe can always ask the chef for a feast if you want the whole Christmas experience.â
âWe can?â Your eyes instantly light up, and his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners as he smiles softly at you.
âOf course, sweetie. Anything you want.â He kisses your cheek and pulls you back to lie on his chest.
Sylus stares at everything with eager eyes and a warm heart. You teach him so much, and you donât even realize it.
You once taught him about music, how to wear accessories, and what it feels like to love someone.
Now, this is another thing youâre teaching him, and that heâll remember for all his life.
Youâre quietly enjoying a cup of hot chocolate in the living room with Sylus, still admiring your efforts while he cleans his gun, when the front door opens with a loud bang. You jump, startled by the sudden noise. Hurried footsteps echo in the hallway, and suddenly two identical figures appear in the doorway. Boxes that were once wrapped are now open in their hands, and they make no effort to hide it. Instead, they rush toward you in sync.
âMiss!â They open their arms, ready to give you a big hug. âThank you!â
Their arms barely touch you before theyâre yanked away. They groan as they land carelessly on the floor, the misty black and red energy dissipating.
Sylus doesnât even look up, just keeps cleaning his gun as if nothing happened, and you can only roll your eyes with an amused grin on your lips.
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#love and deepspace#lads sylus#lads fanfics#lads writings#lads x reader#lads sylus x reader#lads#love and deepspace x reader
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positions | wonwoo
Author: bratzkoo Pairing: wonwoo x nurse! reader Genre: fluff, more fluff Rating: PG-13 Word count: 1.3k Warnings/note: first wonwoo fic and it's inspired by ariana's song positions and my Anna, my best friend and the best nurse in the world. Written in Third person and Wonwoo's POV.
summary: itâs a matter of time before you tell your boyfriend that as long as heâs down for you, youâre down too.
taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): -â
requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist
The scent of sautéing garlic and ginger wafted through Wonwoo's apartment as he carefully stirred the contents of a sizzling pan. His brow furrowed in concentration, eyes darting between the stove and his phone propped up on the counter, displaying a cooking tutorial video. The sound of keys jingling outside the door made him look up, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Y/N breezed in, her presence immediately filling the space with a vibrant energy that Wonwoo had grown to love over the past seven months. "Hey, you," she called out, kicking off her shoes and padding towards the kitchen. "Something smells amazing in here."
Wonwoo's smile widened as he turned to face her. "Welcome back. How was your shift at the hospital?"
Y/N groaned dramatically, draping herself over the kitchen island. "Exhausting. But rewarding. We had a patient recover from a difficult surgery today." She perked up, sniffing the air curiously. "What are you making? It doesn't smell like your usual kimchi jjigae."
"Ah, well," Wonwoo rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice. "I thought I'd try something new. It's supposed to be mapo tofu, but..." He gestured vaguely at the pan, where the sauce was a shade darker than the video suggested it should be.
Y/N's eyes softened as she rounded the island to peer into the pan. "Wonwoo, that's so sweet. You didn't have to go to all this trouble."
"It's no trouble," he murmured, his ears turning slightly pink. "I know you've been working hard lately. I wanted to do something nice for you."
Y/N reached up, cupping his cheek gently. "You're always doing nice things for me," she said softly, before a mischievous glint entered her eyes. "Even if some of them are potential fire hazards."
Wonwoo huffed out a laugh, gently bumping her with his hip. "Very funny. Why don't you set the table while I finish up here? I promise not to burn the place down in the next five minutes."
As they settled into dinner, Wonwoo couldn't help but marvel at how comfortable this all felt. Seven months ago, he never would have imagined himself here, sharing a meal he cooked (albeit imperfectly) with a woman who had somehow managed to slip past all his carefully constructed walls.
"So," Y/N said around a mouthful of tofu, "tell me about your day. How was practice?"
Wonwoo launched into a recap of SEVENTEEN's latest choreography session, complete with dramatic reenactments of Seungkwan's latest aegyo attempts and Mingyu's clumsy mishaps. Y/N listened attentively, laughing at all the right moments and asking questions that showed she genuinely cared about his work and his members.
As their laughter subsided, a comfortable silence fell over them. Wonwoo found himself staring at Y/N, taking in the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the little dimple that appeared on her left cheek. A warmth bloomed in his chest, a feeling he'd been experiencing more and more lately but hadn't quite put a name to yet.
"Oh!" Y/N exclaimed suddenly, breaking Wonwoo out of his reverie. "I almost forgot to tell you. You know my friend Alexys? She called me today, all excited because her boyfriend finally said 'I love you' to her."
Wonwoo felt his heart skip a beat. "Oh?" he managed, trying to keep his voice neutral. "That's... nice."
Y/N nodded, seemingly oblivious to Wonwoo's sudden tension. "Yeah, they've been together for about as long as we have. Can you believe it's been almost seven months already?"
"Time flies," Wonwoo murmured, his mind racing. Were they at that point? Should he have said it already? Did Y/N expect him to say it? The thought of those three little words suddenly felt monumental, and he found himself at a loss.
If Y/N noticed his internal struggle, she didn't show it. Instead, she stood up, gathering their empty plates. "Come on, let's clean up. I'll wash, you dry?"
Grateful for the distraction, Wonwoo nodded, following her to the sink. They fell into an easy rhythm, Y/N washing and rinsing while Wonwoo dried and put away. It struck him how well they moved together, anticipating each other's movements without a word.
As Y/N handed him the last plate, their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through Wonwoo. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the air between them felt charged with unspoken words.
The moment was broken by the sudden blare of music from Wonwoo's phone. He had forgotten he'd set it to play his evening playlist. The opening notes of Ariana Grande's "Positions" filled the apartment.
Y/N's face lit up. "Oh, I love this song!" Without warning, she grabbed Wonwoo's hand, pulling him into the living room. "Dance with me!"
Wonwoo stumbled after her, laughing despite his initial reluctance. "Y/N, you know I'm not much of a dancer outside of work."
"Nonsense," she retorted, already swaying to the beat. "I've seen your performances. Now come on, show me those moves, Mr. Pop star."
As they danced, Wonwoo found himself relaxing, letting the music guide his movements. He spun Y/N around, delighting in her laughter. When she pressed close to him during the chorus, singing along softly, Wonwoo felt that warmth in his chest expand, threatening to overwhelm him.
In that moment, watching Y/N move with abandon, her eyes sparkling with joy, Wonwoo realized something. This feeling, this warmth that had been growing for months â it was love. He was in love with Y/N.
The realization should have terrified him. Wonwoo had always been cautious with his heart, keeping people at arm's length. But as Y/N looked up at him, her smile radiant, he found that he wasn't scared at all. This felt right. It felt like coming home.
As the song slowed for the bridge, Y/N's movements became more languid. She draped her arms around Wonwoo's neck, swaying gently. "You know," she said softly, her eyes never leaving his, "as long as you're down for me, I'm down too."
Wonwoo's breath caught in his throat. He recognized the weight behind her words, the echo of the song's lyrics carrying a deeper meaning. This was Y/N, brave and beautiful Y/N, putting her heart on the line.
Time seemed to stand still as Wonwoo gazed into Y/N's eyes. He saw hope there, and vulnerability, and something else â something that mirrored the feeling in his own chest.
"Y/N," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I love you."
Y/N's eyes widened, a small gasp escaping her lips. For a heart-stopping moment, Wonwoo feared he had misread the situation. But then Y/N's face broke into the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.
"I love you too, Wonwoo," she breathed, her voice thick with unshed tears of joy.
Wonwoo pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. They stayed like that, swaying gently as the song played on, both marveling at the newfound depth of their connection.
As the final chorus swelled, Wonwoo, feeling bold, attempted to dip Y/N. He miscalculated slightly, nearly dropping her, but managed to catch her at the last second. They froze for a moment before bursting into laughter.
"Maybe stick to the choreography your team gives you," Y/N giggled as Wonwoo pulled her upright.
"Noted," Wonwoo chuckled, cupping her face gently. "But I think I'll keep improvising with you."
As their laughter faded, Wonwoo leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips in a soft, sweet kiss. The song came to an end, but they barely noticed, lost in their own world of newfound love and endless possibilities.
In that moment, as they held each other close in the middle of Wonwoo's living room, both knew that whatever positions life might put them in, they'd face them together, always down for each other, always in love.
#wonwoo#wonwoo fic#svt#seventeen fics#wonwoo fics#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo fic#wonu#seventeen wonwoo
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â TEARS ON THE GRAND PIANO
â pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader (MINI SERIES)
â synopsis: moving on from the only person youâve ever loved is proving to be hard⊠so hard that hiring an escort seems to be the only way forward.
â warnings: poor dialogue lmao but my excuse is that it was written a while ago, offensive language, word count: 3K
â Prologue | Chapter 1

13TH NOVEMBER 2022
You were pretty sure your face was melting off with the way your cheeks burned against your hands. Your jaw ached tremendously from clenching, each muscle protesting against the pressure of the emotions welling up inside you.
The room felt like a pressure cooker, and the silence was the ever-tightening lid that threatened to explode at any moment.
The weight of awaiting unspoken words hung in the air, creating a palpable discomfort that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. Seconds stretched into minutes, each passing moment intensifying the unease.
Your mind raced, replaying the events that led to this standoff⊠of sorts.
Joining the Avengers four years ago wasn't anything you wouldâve expected for yourself. Raised as a normal teenage girl in a quiet suburban household, with a normal life planned ahead of you, you never imagined that your destiny would lead you to the extraordinary world of superheroes.
Tony Stark, the genius behind the Iron Man suit, approached you with an offer that would change your life forever. He explained that the world needed new heroes, and your unique abilities were the missing piece they had been searching for. After some hesitation and contemplation, you decided to accept the invitation to join the team.
And here you are - now a grown woman - sitting across from the same Tony Stark. His jaw was slack, eyes wide to an almost inhuman degree. For a man who had faced gods, aliens, and powerful foes, the revelation seemed to have caught even the Iron Man off guard.
To put it shortly, he was stunned. Such an uncharacteristic reaction from the philanthropist.
âWhat did you just say?â He finally managed to answer.
This was supposed to be easy; simple enough to not stress you even more, but you should've known that nothing comes easy with this man.
âI think you heard me, Tony.â
âYeah, but I never thought Iâd hear that⊠come out of your mouth.â He slaps his hand against the chair excitedly. He was both amused and bewildered by the unexpected turn of events.
âI mean, everyone thought you were a virgin, with the lack of relationships over the years, but I guess not, huh?â
His laughter irritated you no doubt.
Despite being twenty-three years old, your teammates, in their misguided assumptions, were certain you were a virgin. It was a label that stuck, fuelled by your shyness about your personal life. No one ever dared to inquire about your relationship status, but subtle concerns were shared between them, creating an unspoken curiosity.
In reality, your heart harboured a secret love for someone you couldn't have â a person who existed in the realms of impossibility. It was a love that had silently grown over the years, nurtured in the shadows of silent words and unfulfilled desires.
âSo, you want me to set you up with an escort?â He asks, humour still evident in his voice.
You nod, a mix of embarrassment and anticipation washing over you. Your eyes briefly met his before retreating to your fidgeting hands, the room still echoing with his laughter.
âThatâs fine. But first, I need you to answer some questions.â Tony continues, his tone shifting to a more serious note.
Confusion creeps across your face as you tilt your head, thrown off course by his unexpected shift in seriousness.
âFirst of all, why?â He inquires, leaning back in his chair and studying your reaction.
You hesitate for a moment, contemplating how much you should reveal. "It's complicated. There was someone⊠but the feelings werenât mutual, and itâs time to move on. I thought this might be a way to help me do that."
Tony raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Feelings, huh? Well, I'm all ears. Spill the beans. Who's the lucky guy?"
You sigh again, knowing that this part might complicate things. âItâs not something ⊠I just donât think-,â You donât want to tell him, it feels all too frightening, âI canât say.â
He hums lowly, observing your obviously nervous state.
âOkay. Whatâs your preference?â
Your confusion grows.
He sighs, âMale or female?â
He asks so simply whereas youâre caught off guard.
Your ears burn in embarrassment as the implication dawns on you. You knew this would have to be spoken about at some point, you just didnât expect it to be so soon.
âUh, I t-think, female.â
Tony can't help but wear a sly grin. âSo not a virgin and not into dudes. No wonder you shot Sam down.â
The mention of Sam makes you cringe, recalling your first encounter with the man who couldnât take a hint that you were definitely not interested.
You attempt to regain your composure before warning Tony to be serious, but he interrupts your process, seemingly already moved on from your revelation.
âAnyways, what else?â
Again, youâre stumbling over how to answer but he saves you this time, deciding to lighten up on the teasing.
âIâm talking physically. What would you want her to look like? Tall, short, blonde, brunette, redhead?â His hands move drastically as if sculpting an imaginary figure in the air.
You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was serious. "Does it matter?"
âWell, yeah, escorts are usually pricey, especially the ones I use to hire so⊠you might as well fuck someone youâre actually attracted to.â
He was right. It would cost a fortune for a high-end escort. Given your public image and the constant scrutiny you faced, you realise that anyone you brought into your private space would need to be discreet and accustomed to the world of celebrities. There would be NDAs to sign, and security measures to consider, and the whole process seemed more complex than you had initially thought.
âAssuming you want an escort for that?â
His words interrupt your thinking. He had a knack for understanding things without needing them explicitly stated. It was both a blessing and a curse. The fact that he guessed your intention to hire an escort without you saying it out loud was both impressive and mildly embarrassing.
Your blush deepens.
âIâd prefer her to be taller than me, brunette, green eyes.â
His grin slips slightly, realisation sinking in. Your preference seemed to match the appearance of a certain witch.
âSimple enough.â
âAnd also, old- actually, she can be my age, but Iâd prefer an older woman.â You add, unknowingly unravelling another layer of mystery to your request.
Tony hums.
âPreferably not American, maybe like European, orâŠâ
It couldnât get any better for the man. The quick panic in your eyes, let alone the twitch in your lip, helped finalise his theory.
But ever the optimistic, thereâs no way heâd caught that slip.
There are a lot of tall, brunette Europeans in America.
Surely.
He rests his head in his hand, feigning false nonchalance, âSounds familiar.â
Oh.
Wanda Maximoff arrived in America with a heavy heart and a troubled past. The scars of Sokovia and the loss of her brother, Pietro, weighed on her soul, but she was determined to forge a new life. She was haunted by the memories of experimentation and the pain that had been inflicted upon her throughout her life. The scars, both physical and emotional, served as a constant reminder of the darkness she had endured. Yet, as she stepped onto American soil, she felt a glimmer of hope.
Hope for a new life.
Almost every day, she participated in training sessions to harness and control her formidable powers. Vision, an android and fellow Avenger, became her mentor and confidant. Together, they worked tirelessly to channel her abilities, turning the chaos into controlled strength.
Her dark eyeliner that used to coat her waterline thinned with each passing day. Her green eyes, now a striking contrast against her porcelain skin, began to reflect not only her pain but also the resilience that lay within. Her long, brunette locks remained a constant, gracefully cascading down her back.
The Sokovian Accords had torn her away from your life, but Steve Rogers, the man with an unyielding sense of justice, had set her free. She had been detained, left to rot in chains and a power-disabling device. But now, she lived in the shadows, on the run from those who sought to control her immense power.
The next time you saw her was on the battlefield in Wakanda. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the Wakandan landscape, and you found yourself standing amidst the chaos of the battlefield. The air was charged with tension, tangible electricity that mirrored the clash between the forces before you. Amid the chaos, you caught a glimpse of a familiar figure, moving with purpose and grace.
Wanda. The woman you once knew as a fiery teenager, full of anger and confusion, had transformed into someone entirely new. Her crimson hair, cut to a length that framed her face, caught the fading sunlight as she weaved through the battlefield.
The old Wanda you knew was gone and yet she was still as beautiful. Still the same Wanda you were in love with.
Even so, she was your best friend.
The age difference never seemed to matter; you clicked in a way that transcended space and time. To you, her friendship was everything. And yet, as life unfolded, so did the unexpected twist of emotions that left you utterly devoted to her.
But your love was unrequited. She fell for Vision. The robot born from the mind stone, the same stone that granted Wanda her powers. They clicked instantly.
Unrequited love can be a heavy burden, and you carried it silently, painfully. From a distance, you observed the deep connection between Wanda and Vision strum stronger. Your heart ached, knowing that you never stood a chance against the android who had become the love of her life.
Her space and time.
And then came Westview. It hit you like a tidal wave of sorrow. Wanda, now known as The Scarlet Witch, had created an alternate reality in an attempt to find solace, to build a life where she could have everything she ever wanted. It was a bittersweet revelation - she had her family, but it was a fragile illusion. Life had decided to take everything good from this woman and that included her husband and twin boys.
Learning about their fates left you shattered. It had been a while since you cried over Wanda. You felt so much for the witch. To you, she deserved the universe but for all the time you knew her, she had only experienced pain.
It was a heartbreaking paradox - the one who could rewrite reality couldn't escape her own suffering.
Tony moves closer to you, breaking you out of your trance.
âYou could always look for her.â His hand hovers over yours, unsure.
âNo, I couldnât,â You whisper gently, afraid your voice will betray you, âI donât want to.â
He doesnât say anything as he moves back to his original position, battling with himself whether to accept your defeat or encourage you to fight for love.
âOkay. I'll look into it.â He answers shortly.
âThank you, Tony.â
You really do appreciate his help. He has always been there for you, a fun yet steady presence in your life. He had guided you through tough times in your career and offered a shoulder to cry on when needed. In many ways, he was more than just a friend â he was like an older brother.
âIt wonât take long for me to find your woman. So make sure youâre ready for the best night of your life.â He concludes by flicking his tongue grossly between his pointer and middle finger.
But heâll always be a pig.
--
15TH DECEMBER 2022
A few weeks later, you found yourself in the penthouse suite of one of Tonyâs infamous drunk hotel purchases- The Ritz. He had managed to find an escort that fit your preferences within the same night, but due to conflicting schedules and multiple anxiety attacks, you pushed the date back as much as you could.
Tony helped you understand all the unspoken rules of high-end escort services. For high-risk clients, such as yourself, itâs imperative that a fake name is given.
Monica Dunn.
Tony said you didnât look like a Monica but you didnât care. Youâre pretty sure it wasnât an escortâs job to care what name their clients use.
Afterwards, NDAs are usually signed, despite the use of a false identity, just in case the escort discovered who the clients were, and sold the information to the press.
This has happened before. You giggle, remembering the scandalous article about Tony and his rendezvous with an escort that gladly divulged a particular fetish of his.
Five minutes before the agreed meeting time, the front desk rings, informing you that your guest had checked in and was on her way up.
You pace around the front door, nursing on the almost empty glass of wine. Soft music playing through the TV just outside the large conversation pit, a sunken enclave surrounded by plush, velvety sofas and cushions in hues of deep royal blue and silver. The pit was nestled in the centre of the room, creating a cosy and intimate atmosphere.
Perfect for tonight.
The suiteâs architecture was utterly beautiful. The walls were adorned with gilded frames housing masterpieces of renowned artists, and the floors were covered in an expanse of soft, ivory carpet that allowed you to sink your feet into its embrace. A grand chandelier, dripping with crystal prisms, hung majestically above the conversation pit, casting a warm and gentle glow over the entire space.
Residing in front of the large glass windows, a grand piano stood proudly, its polished surface reflecting the glimmering chandelier above. Your eyes were drawn to it, a majestic instrument that seemed to beckon you with its silent invitation. Unable to resist its allure, you gracefully make your way towards it. The rich scent of aged wood and varnish envelopes you. Fingers delicately glide over the smooth keys, feeling the cool touch beneath.
You sit upon the plush bench, posture adjusting with the grace of a seasoned pianist. You begin to play, letting your fingers dance effortlessly across the keys. The room fills with an enchanting melody, each note resonating through the space. Lost in the music, you start to hum along, your voice blending seamlessly with the piano's tune.
The same tune you wrote for Wanda all those years ago. It's been a while since youâve played this song. Youâre not even sure why youâre playing it now.
The keys dip. A sombre note rings true. The music swirls into a reflection of your emotions, a silent expression of the feelings you had kept hidden for so long and how they remained unbound.
âThatâs beautiful.â A voice broke through the harmony, pulling you out of your musical reverie.
Startled, you turn to find her standing there, in all her glory.
And time ceases to exist.
She stands tall. The red hair that once defined her is now a rich, deep brown, still its usual thickness and tied into a high ponytail that exudes a casual confidence. Bangs frame her sculpted face as a gloss stains her lips. She looks different. You can't help but marvel at the maturity that now graces her features. There's a certain grace to the lines that weren't there before, a subtle testimony to the experiences that have shaped her.
The room becomes a backdrop to the flood of memories rushing through your mind. The air is thick with festering emotions as you look up at her, trying to process the unexpected reunion. It's been years since you last saw her, and the wounds of her departure still linger.
You donât say anything but she does. She steps closer, eyes flickering over your stilled hands on the instrument.
She laughs, and familiarity strikes as she recalls the tune you were playing. "Is that the song you were writing that night?"
The question hangs in the air, summoning memories of the last time you shared your dreams and melodies, the things that mean most to you. She was your muse and you had bared your soul to her in your music. And now youâre trapped between the resonating notes of the piano and the echoes of your past.
For a moment, you struggle to maintain composure. Indifference projected as a firm shield, a sort of defence against the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.
"It's just a tune." You reply nonchalantly, trying to downplay the significance of the moment.
With that, her gaze intensifies, a shadow of uncertainty rushes across her features.
You can't help but feel a sense of curiosity mixed with a tinge of unease.
All this time that has passed and now she decides to come find you.
You donât understand why sheâs here.
She goes to speak but you interrupt her. âWhat are you doing here, Wanda?â
Sheâs lost for words, not even fully sure herself.
âI came to see you.â
Wanda sees the strain on your face. She didnât have to read your mind to know you were in turmoil. Without much thought, she gently cradles your face in her hands, thumbs tracing delicately over your lips, and you lean into the touch, momentarily forgetting everything thatâs occurred over the last few years.
This doesnât last long. The warmth of her touch turns cold, and you stand up abruptly, the piano bench skirting backwards loudly. Anger simmers beneath the surface.
âDonât touch me.â
You donât expect it to hurt as you see the pain your words cause her. Â
âSeriously, Wanda. Why are you here?â You continue, voice thick with led.
Wanda sighs, unwilling to lie to you anymore. âTony sent me.â
#my fics! ê°áą. .áąê±âËâč#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff#cr:@florietas
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click!: in frame. 1 (e.w.)


SYNOPSIS: you crave redemption more than love. [idk au]
WORD COUNT: 7.7k
WARNINGS: professionalphotographer!ellie, strugglingartist!oc whoâs black, ANGST!!, loss and unhealthy grieving, papa issues, verbally abusive parent(PLEASE TREAD LIGHTLY), depictions of therapy and counseling, light discussion of anger management, brief mention of alcohol, bullying, a lil fluff, SMUT!! YIPPEE MDNI, bondage, squirting, bathroom sex, eating out no taqueria, ellie getting sloppy from a hot milf thatâs itÂ

You look like your mom.Â
Your fatherâs admiring whisper yanks you out of the hazy turbulence in your mind. You shovel a handful of caramel popcorn in your mouth. You donât dare look at him.Â
Daughter things, I guess. Your dad simply hums. Silence simmers between the two of you. Itâs not comforting. Not like it should be. A bomb is coming.Â
Honey, I⊠I love you. Your father sounds like he's crying and it pauses your aggressive chewing. You finally turn to face him and your fingers twitch when you see his globby tears. Theyâre heavy as he releases his regrets in silence, just like he always does during this time of year.Â
Me, too, dad.Â
Youâre not sure if youâre lying or not. Some things are impossible to forget, you suppose.Â
You eat more popcorn with a permanently damaged heart.Â

FOUR YEARS LATER
FIRST DAY WITH DOCTOR BROWN.Â
âSome people believe that any form of assistance is⊠insulting. Whether it be to them as people or⊠specific traits that they hold that others may find unfamiliar or unsettling. Iâm not here to judge or anything of that nature. Just here to help you figure out why specific aspects of your life affect you the way they do.âÂ
Your arms cross over your chest. Dr. Brown realizes youâre not taking the bait, so she attempts to get you more comfortable. âI think icebreakers could help ease some of the tension. So⊠Whatâs your favoritâ â
âMy dad died last year.âÂ
Your statement makes her freeze, her smile melting off her face, eyes shifting across her face. She adjusts some papers on her clipboard and clicks her pen. âAlright, hun,â Her gentle tone makes your stomach twist. âLetâs talk about it. What was the relationship with your dad like?â You simply shrug.Â
Dr. Brown nods and tries again. âWere you and him close? Your notes say you and your mother were inseparable, just like me and mine.âÂ
Your nails sink into your cuticles and tears burn in your eyes, âI⊠I wanted to be. Close.â You whisper. âHe wasnât around like that, though.âÂ
She scribbles and solemnly nods, âDid he work often?â Your head bobs and droplets stream down your cheeks.Â
âI didnât think Iâd care that he died⊠He was never around growing up, so⊠like, whatever.â You grumble lamely.
âWhat did losing him feel like?âÂ
The end of your mouth curls downward, the familiar searing youâve grown to loathe, âLike⊠the world was burninâ.âÂ
âElaborate.â She pries softly.Â
Another bounce from your shoulders. You readjust in your seat. âI wasnât even sad. JustâŠâ You trail off, fingers twitching under your arm.Â
âAngry. I was angry all the time.â You rush out quietly, face burning with shame. âJust like he was.â You pause when your breath shakes, âI wish I got some of my momâs traits. My dadân I are just alike.â You fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater.Â
â⊠Youâre not like himâ â
âI amâ â
âYouâre not. Youâre trying to put in effort to be better for the future. Could he have said the same?â Sheâs stern when she speaks.
Youâre stumped. You wipe your tears harshly. For the first time, you're at a loss for words.Â

WEEK TWO WITH DOCTOR BROWN.Â
âThink about the first time you saw your dad lash out. You can elaborate on how you felt, how you reacted, how your environment changed⊠Anything you feel comfortable sharing.â Your eyes stay glued to your therapistâs couch as you recall the day. Every detail and foul verbiage he directed towards your mother resurfaces and falls at your sock-covered feet.Â
It was the morning of your first day of second grade. Your mother spent the entire morning hot-combing your hair, bumping your ends, littering your locks that were bound to recoil in seconds in bobbles and clips. She could tell by your expression that you didnât like it, but she completed your bright pink outfit with itâs not for you, itâs for me! Sit still! She never failed to live vicariously through you; Every childhood moment she couldnât live out was now yours.Â
Your father wasnât around much. He was a truck-driver, on a constant voyage to wherever he was instructed to go, hundreds to thousands of miles away from solace for months â sometimes years at a time. He missed birthdays, holidays, family reunions; There was always a missing space for him somewhere in your childhood home, whether it be his customized keychain that he forgot, shoes he didnât pack, a hug he didnât give. Proof of him was always scattered around somewhere, but he was a shadow. A blank memory.Â
So, why were your cartoons interrupted by his booming voice in the kitchen?Â
You remember turning the television down, only by a couple digits, your ears honing in on every word he screamed at your mother. You were so confused. Half of those words youâd never heard before. Why was he so mad this early in the morning?Â
You knew it was serious when your mother retaliated just as loudly, the cracks and shrieks from her belts sounding alarms in your brain. Your momâs in trouble! Help her! But how could you? You were defenseless against him. It felt like the day flew by as their aggression intensified, curses nearly shattering the glass of your backyard door before everything went quiet.Â
But still, your feet carried you to peek behind the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. Your attempts at being discreet were pointless, though. When you saw your mother pinned up against the counter by your father, tears streaming down her face as he spat with every whisper onto her cheek, you gasped. Your memory is washy after that, but you remember your mother wiping her tears and slapping that comforting grin on her face. You wish you didnât remember how broken she sounded when she said alright, baby! Ready for school? Donât wanna be late!Â
You suffered through social studies, language arts, and math. Your mind wasnât where it shouldâve been; You couldnât shake the fact that your mother could be hurt and she had no one to tell. You just prayed to yourself as your teacher spoke, hoping that your mom would be on time to pick you up at the end of the day.Â
Your eyes travel over the teal incisions of thread on your therapistâs seat. Youâre still not used to the sound of your own voice. âItâs⊠itâs a funny storyâŠâ You sound so weak. You retell what you can, all while following the tip of your therapistâs scribbling pen.Â
Why did it have to be green? Why are the clicks deafening?Â

âEllie, holy fucking â shit, these look fucking incredible!â Yuki whispers, expression impressed as she snoops over the auburn-haired girlâs shoulder, inspecting the aerial shots sheâd taken a few hours ago. Editing is a bitch. âI donât know how you do it. YouâreâŠâÂ
âA genius, I know,â Ellie says dryly, a soft grin hidden behind the hand that holds her head up. Itâs almost eleven. âMâalmost doneâ â
âNope! Not happening!â Another voice exclaims from the black lounge chair on the opposite side of the room. âYouâre not the one that has to lock up every goddamn night! I ainât stayinâ here âtil two again! You got two seconds to finish up before I drag you up outta here.âÂ
Yuki giggles at Saliyahâs scolding, and Ellie sighs. The pictures look almost perfect. Almost. Theyâre not there yet! All she needs is an hour⊠or threeâ
âWhat did I say! ââ
âAlright, alright, fuck.â Ellie shakes her head before closing all her tabs, pulling her flash drive out of the PC before shutting it down. She stands from her rolling chair and snags her blazer from over the back of it, throwing it over her shoulders and grabbing her work bag, camera already securely inside. She shoves the drive in a random pocket before stretching.Â
The two girls already have all of their belongings in hand, more than ready to clock the fuck out. Yuki eyes her slyly, sarcasm dripping from her tone, âOh, wooow, sheâs actually taking orders, now? Listening to instructions for the first time? ââ
âCan you stop.â Ellie mutters as she follows the girls descending the stairs. âNo!â They both say in unison. Ellie smiles. Does she really stay out that often? Thereâs no way sheâs that stubborn.Â
All three girls crack jokes as they vacant the building, ensuring all the lights and equipment are shut off and prepped for tomorrow. Itâs an early day.Â
âAlright, bitches!â Yuki screams into the darkness, bag swinging as her heels click-clack on the pavement. âI want you bright and bushy-tailed tomorrow! Busy day! No time to fuck arouâ âÂ
Saliyah yawns, eyes droopy, âGirl⊠fuck you.â Ellie cackles and rubs her tired eyes. She canât wait to get these six hours in. And see her baby. Saliyah wraps her arms around Ellieâs neck, muttering see you tomorrow, stinker into her neck. Ellie hums and holds her before watching her get into her vehicle.Â
Ellie does the same after both girls leave the parking lot, her head falling back onto the headrest, eyes shutting in exhaustion. Today was insane⊠Fuck, it was incredible. She's always accepted opportunities to take photos in nature. Landscapes are her prestige, but when she got the offer to take aerial shots of the ocean, she couldnât say no. Just when she thought sheâd never get on an aircraft out of fearâŠÂ Â
The shots were mystical, the monsoon winds carrying the waves in all directions as the foams ripple, a scene straight out of her dreams. The second she got off the helicopter, she got to editing. Staying in late to perfect her captures has become a terrible habit, but what can she say? She loves her job. Thank God her coworkers are as sweet as cherry pie and support her bad habit. Besides tonight, apparently.Â
Days like this keep Ellie humbled⊠Most times. She deserves to boast every once in a while. She often thinks back on her college days, how out of touch chances like these seemed. The number of times she was brushed off by respected professionals because she lacked ânecessary resourcesâ was astronomical. But look at her now. She had everything she could ever want: a career sheâs passionate about, healthy friendships, and the means to take care of her father.Â
Well⊠she has most things.Â
She sighs and starts her vehicle, the diamonds in her Rolex sparkling under the street lights beaming in from the window. The streets are calm. Not normally bustling like they would on a regular day. The clouds are coming in; Rain is due. Sheâs so excited.Â
Itâs a calm drive back to her small home. She pulls into the driveway and exits with all her supplies, unlocking and entering her place of peace.Â
Meow! Meow!Â
Ellie clicks her tongue at Pickle, âHiii, mama. Iâm home.â She drops her bag on the small couch near the front door, bending down to pick her up. âYouâre heavy, fuck.â The baby purrs and nuzzles into her neck as they enter the kitchen. She sets her down on the counter and opens the fridge for water. Thereâs soft scuffling from behind her as she sips.Â
Ellie turns to see Pickle playing with a pen, rolling it across granite. She swallows her last gulp before sighing, picking up the utensil, the one memory she kept of you. Your colorful fucking custom ballpoint pen. Pickle nibbles her fingers, trying to snatch it back to play with, but Ellie clicks it over and over.Â
âMiss her? Yeah?â She whispers. Pickle licks her index. Ellie will never admit it, but she thinks about you whenever she sees her baby. Yours, too.
She hopes youâre alright.

âYou said that going to his funeral was different from your momâs. Do you mind elaborating?âÂ
You shrug and scoff. âShouldnât everybody feel sad when they parents die?â Dr. Brown mimics you, âNot at all. Every reaction to loss is different and not all reactions are symmetrical.âÂ
âI was angry.â Your statement is blunt and abrasive.Â
âExpound.âÂ
âI wanted to dig him up and spit on him my damn self.â You say, sharp as razor blades. Brown hums, unfazed by your sudden aggression; What the hell do therapists write on those clipboards? âI just⊠Seeinâ all these fuckers I didnât know talk about how fuckinâ⊠great he was and how missed heâll be was fuckinâ infuriating. They donât know shit about that man or the shit heâs done.âÂ
Sympathy washes over Dr. Brownâs pupils. âSee, your temper is the reason youâre here. Youâre not obligated to forgive anybody that wronged you, butâŠâ Sheâs simultaneously stern and empathic, âYou do not get to use those emotions to inflict negativity onto the people around you. Youâre perpetuating the same harm you wanted to avoid in the first place.â Â
You instantly know what sheâs referring to and guilt radiates all the way down to your toes. Amaya⊠Oh, you miss her. Another good person caught in your violent crossfire. Your last conversation was vile, and you hate yourself every day for the things you said to the only person who unconditionally cared about your wellbeing. Tears brew in your ducts, but you blink them away.Â
âI didnât⊠know what to doâŠâ You didnât, so you screamed and shouted and told her to never call your fucking phone again. The last thing you berated was the final nail in the coffin for your relationship. You left me, youâd said over and over until the line went dead. You left me alone! I fucking needed you!Â
âNo one has the answers for these types of situations. Why we react the way that we do to traumatic events will always be a mystery.â She adjusts in her chair, leg crossing over the other. âWhat I do know is that⊠youâre fighting grief. Youâre choosing not to experience it, and itâs making you lash out on people who donât deserve it.âÂ
But how does one grieve the person that made their life⊠unlivable? Through rage. Rage in its purest form: unfiltered, erratic, sizzling. Itâs unrelenting and unforgiving and holds no bounds, prepared to be released at any moment, no matter whoâs present. Your fatherâs home has seen it all at this point: glass shattering on walls, screaming into the closet where all his clothes hang, punching the pillow he slept on every night.Â
Everything was exactly where your father left it, and instead of crying, you relinquished hell on the home he left in your name. Youâre still surprised it wasnât engulfed in flames after his funeral.Â
âI justâŠâ Harsh sniffles from you, desperately wiping your tears with damp hoodie sleeves, âI donât know what to do. Nothing feels⊠real anymore.âÂ
âYouâre real, baby.â This is the most delicate Dr. Brown has ever sounded, tone hushed. âYour feelings are real, your pain is real, but so is everyone elseâs. You have to remember that.âÂ
Youâre listening so intently, âWhat I'd suggestâŠâ You already know what sheâs going to say, and youâre petrified. You sag into your seat.Â
You owe those two girls an apology.
Flashes of green race across your memory. The meadows are back, and theyâre haunting.Â
âThree.â You whisper.Â
âHm?âÂ
âI oweâŠâ A heavy exhale. âThree girls an apology.âÂ

OCTOBER, 2013Â
Ellieâs officially fifteen. Sheâd give anything to be home right now.Â
She was so happy before she left that morning. Her dad woke her up with a heaping stack of iced chocolate chip pancakes that were the size of her head and happy birthday candles. Laughter echoed through their household, following as they cascaded down the stairs to blast music. Neighbors be damned. Everything was perfect. Up until she was dressed and ready and in the car.Â
Ellieâs dad held her hand the entire drive. He didnât comment on her white knuckles as she gripped his digits when he kissed the back of her hand. It took her a second to exit the car when they arrived, so he said the usual. You got this, kiddo. The extra encouragement provided a boost, for sure. She was able to get to class on time.Â
Every time a wad of paper or a sharpened pencil hits the back of her head, she regrets not begging her dad to let her stay home. Sheâs grown used to the snickers, the shoulder chucks in the hallway, but it doesnât hurt any less.
English concludes and sheâs silently packing when her bag gets yanked out of her hand.Â
Missed you, stalker, A kid who Ellie doesnât fucking remember snarks with a dark grin. Whereâs that book you always haveâ
Tyler! The teacherâs voice booms, the class filling with ooohâs, That's enough. Give her stuff back now.Â
Câmooon, I canât talk to my girlfriend? The remaining students burst into laughter and Ellieâs face burns, swallowing the lump thatâs forming in her throat.Â
How about I call home? Tyler sucks his teeth at the threat while his friends laugh, dropping Ellieâs things on her desk with little care. She wastes no time to flee, shoving her earpods in and synching each trembling breath with the heavy percussion.Â
Her dad comes to pick her up an hour later.Â
-
-
A light tap on your shoulder tears your attention away from the lengthy equations on the board. Numbers and letters? Your fucking ass; Absolutely not!
You turn to Amaya, whoâs smiling wide, shoving a folded note in your hand, rushing you to open it. Your brows crease as you face forward, unraveling the nest crevices and met with⊠hearts? Glitter? Pretty penmanship? No man wrote this, thank God.Â
Hi. Youâre really pretty and nice. Would you like to sit with me during lunch?Â
CeniyahÂ
⊠Ceniyah? ⊠Thee Cece? The person youâve been obsessed with since middle school? What the fuck is going on!Â
You turn back to Amaya whoâs giggling into her palm, catching glimpses of a shy Ceniyah, who keeps her head down, her beaded braids shielding her face. Your face burns and you jerk back forward. Itâs not a fucking prank, what the fuck, what the fuckâ
Class drags like a bitch, but the bell finally rings, and everyone hustles, shoving books in their bags, running to the cafeteria. You refuse to move, though. Your iron is low and the person youâre in love with asked you to crunch on celery sticks with her. Alone. You're bound to pass out the second you breathe wrong.Â
Hi.
You nearly fly out of your seat at her soft tone. She sounds like an angel. Youâre going to die. You jump out of your chair and⊠take in the beauty that she is. She smells like heaven and her skin is perfect, not a blemish in sight. You hope she canât see your acne scars⊠and sheâs shorter than you. Are minors allowed to get married?Â
H-Hey, You hold up the pink piece of construction paper, I, uh, got your note⊠Itâs beautiful. Her smile shines brighter than the sun. She shakes her head and the chains locked on her clips tinker like fairies.Â
Are you kiddinâ me! That mural you helped create was crazy. That was beautiful.Â
I love you.Â
Your eyes go wide. Did you say that? You donât think you said that⊠Her smile turns confused and you realize you said that. You almost stab yourself with your pencil. I mean, like, I love how you appreciate art! Like, not m-many people⊠do that, and stuffâŠ
She smirks and your heart squeezes with delight, And stuff? She inquires with an arched brow.Â
Iâd appreciate it if you ladies headed to lunch so I can enjoy mine. Your teacher interrupts, And the next note that gets passed earns a detention.Â
A soft, floral-scented hand closes around your wrist, over your beaded bracelets and charms. You grab your bag with your last remaining strength and follow her like a puppy, her flowy skirt brushing against the bottoms of your jean-clad legs.Â
Best⊠day⊠ever.Â

PRESENTÂ
Ellie needs to start doing finger stretches. Her hands are starting to hurt every time she clocks out.Â
Sheâs sitting at her desk, re-editing the infant photos she took earlier today. The twin girls from earlier were absolute angels, smiling and cooing up at the camera behind their matching pink pacifiers. She's never thought about having children⊠ever, but it might not be so badâ
Meow! Meow, meow! MeowMEOWâ
⊠Nevermind. Kids are not for her. She can barely get this one to act right. The pictures are cute, though.Â
âWhatâs the matter, mama?â She coos down at a doe-eyed kit-kat. âHungies?â Pickle jumps up and into her lap, staring at the bright screen that displays Ellieâs editing software. Ellie smirks down at her, âWhat, you wanna try?âÂ
Pickle blinks up at her. No thoughts, just kibble.Â
She decides to save her progress on the photos and give her munchkin some love. The few minutes of head pats and runs are cut short when she gets a pop-up from her email. She pays it no mind at first, but she zeroes in on the subject with furrowed brows. It simply reads hi⊠an overdue apology. Ellie blinks a couple times before suspecting spam⊠But who the fuck names a spam email something that cryptic? What the fuck?Â
Ellie opens it⊠and her body goes numb as her eyes follow each word.Â
hi, ellie. iâm not sure how to start this off, but i hope itâs decent enough to sit through. i apologize in advance.Â
you probably donât remember me, but we had statistics and used to live together in college. it was only for two months (i think, kind of a blur) but⊠yeah. i hope it semi-kinda rings a bell. hi again.
this is a very random time to reach out, and i understand any confusion, but i just wanted to apologize for everything. i was terrible to you. i'd never thought i'd become a judgmental person, but i did. i mocked you, i spoke behind your back, and probably ruined your last year of school, and i carry that regret with me everywhere i go. iâm not sure if i'll ever be able to express my remorse properly.Â
iâm trying to do better. i want to do better, but i canât unless i express it.Â
you never have to talk to me again, and i understand if you donât, but if you ever want to have a conversation with me, iâd be more than willing to come wherever you are to do so. or we can exchange numbers if itâs less of a hassle. i see how busy you are.Â
thank you if you took out any time to read this jumbled mess of thoughts. iâm very nervous. i hope you continue to live beautifully.Â
sincerely, someone trying to start fresh.Â
(p.s. i swear i'm not a stalker. youâre really popping on instagram. congratulations on everything.)Â
Ellie wastes no time and unplugs her entire PC, the screen going black. Her heart is racing and water surfaces above her pupils. Pickle purrs in her arms as she backs her rolling chair from under the desk and scurries into her bedroom. She sets the kitty down on her bed and clutches her chest. She forgets to count, forgets to breathe as detailed images of you scatter in her head.Â
You⊠what the fuck.
Ellie feels her hands start to shake, so she squeezes them in a fist as she paces. Her gasps are choked and sheâs spiraling into panic; She canât unsee your teary, brown eyes, how you tried to mask your sadness when she stated she was leaving. She was able to convince herself that sheâd never see you again, and it took her so long to be okay with that. Sheâs grown to be okay without your presence.
The burnt trail she left behind has reignited again. She's sinking, drowning, just like she did years ago.Â

WEEK FIVE WITH DR. BROWN
âHow do you feel now? Be honest.âÂ
â⊠Still shitty⊠but alright, I guess.â Youâre hoarse when you speak.Â
âElaborate. What does alright mean for you?âÂ
You pick at your fingers, âIâm not⊠I donât wanna, like, kill myself⊠if thatâs what youâre asking. The ballâs in their court now, I guess. Iâm⊠Iâm just alright.â Your shoulders bounce in a shrug.Â
âHas anyone answered?â Your head shakes in denial. âDonât let that jeopardize your progress. However they react to you contacting them is not on you anymore. They either accept it or they donât, and theyâre valid in both options.âÂ
Dr. Brown pauses and eyes you skeptically, âWhat?â You ask.Â
She shrugs, âOne person isnât on your making amends list.âÂ
Your reply is immediate, âProbably for a reason.âÂ
âDo you remember what you told me during our first meeting?âÂ
Irritation boils under your skin. âI see where youâre taking this conversation and Iâm not messinâ witâ it⊠Respectfully. Next topic, please.âÂ
Her hands raise in surrender, âAyâ, Iâm not here to make you do diddly-squat. Merely providing perspective.âÂ
âRight.âÂ
âYou did beat that girl to a pulp, though. I will sayâ â
âItâs what she deserved.â You say flatly. âShe⊠humiliated me, and when her bitch left, she tried to come back to me. Get me pregnantâ â
âChile, Iâm not tryna hear all thatâ â
You scoff and fall back in your seat, cushions and pillows molding with the curve of your spine. Dina bringing her happy ass to your fatherâs home after his death was one of the most infuriating experiences of your entire goddamn life. The second you opened the door, you were met with wildfire and permanently scarred. The least you could do is give her a fucking black eye.Â
What you did after that⊠youâll never regret. Ever. She can blast you on Twitter all she wants; Sheâs dead to you.Â
Dr. Brown sips on her black tea with a pointed stare, âYes, maâam?â You say sarcastically.Â
âWatch that tone,â That look in her eye⊠she meant that. Youâll be quiet. âShe was wrong for what she did, but you ainât innocent.âÂ
âIâm sorry, but I disagree. That one⊠she can choke. I donât care.â Dr. Brown is disappointed by your answer, but frankly, you donât care. That ship sailed and sank like the goddamn Titanic.Â
She seems disappointed in your answer, but she lets it go. â⊠Alright, then.âÂ

On the brink of a heart attack perfectly explains how Ellieâs been feeling for the past week. The number of times sheâs reread your fucking email is genuinely embarrassing, but sheâs weighing her options: she either blocks you or accepts your offer. She's never been so conflicted in her life. She desperately needs a fucking break.Â
She never takes Saliyah and Yuki up on their offers to turn up on Friday nights, but her rampant emotions backed her into a corner⊠and now sheâs tipsy on the dancefloor of some rinky-dink club. One night of release wouldnât hurt.Â
Ellie really wishes she had a grilled cheese. Theyâre quite delicious⊠Probably not the thoughts she should be having with a hot older woman pushing back on her to fucking T-Pain, but sheâs hungry! Liquor gives her the appetite of a fucking rhinosaurous, what can she say!Â
Saliyah and Yuki are handling business for her, though, giving the ladyâs ass very encouraging slaps every time their hips connect. Ellie probably looks like a fucking dumbass as she pumps her fist in the air like an old man, but she canât remember the last time she partied. Sue her!Â
Itâs not until the woman stands upright, her sweaty, nearly bare back pressed against Ellieâs button-up, an arm coming up to loop around her neck, slightly shifting her bow tie that Ellie freezes, her fists clenching even tighter in the air. Her core gives a sharp squeeze when she feels sticky, glossed lips imprint on her throat. Her eyes bulge as she frantically searches for guidance from her friends, but theyâre no fucking help, as usual! What the hell is miming sex and eating pussy going to do for her? She can barely breathe.Â
Her friends shoot her finger guns in encouragement before heading back to the bar. A tongue darts out to lap up her anxiety-induced sweat, and her body tremors, her hands untwisting to land on the girlâs jean covered hips for leverage. She feels teeth beam on her neck and her entire body flushes.Â
âYouâre adorable!â Ellie hears her scream over the blasting music. Her tongue jumbles as she searches for a reply, but nothing leaves. She just drops her head onto the womanâs shoulder⊠and nearly flat lines when she eyes the cleavage sitting taut in her halter top. Her heartâs pulses synch with the ones from her clit when the woman giggles. Ellieâs ninety-five-point six percent sure that her nipples are poking through her shirt.Â
Her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek when the woman spins to face her, chest to chest, noses almost touching. The womanâs gaze drops to her neck, cunning as a fox as she undoes the first button of her shirt before unraveling the loop of her bow tie. She leans in, wafts of cinnamon flooding Ellieâs nostrils.Â
âCome to the bathroom with me?â Ellieâs nodding before the lady can conclude the purr in her ear. Her hand gets snagged and sheâs being dragged through the hot crowd, all the way to the back of the club and shoved into the giant restroom. She finally takes in the goddess in front of her: dark hair, plump lips, pretty lashes. The wrinkles by her eyes and laugh lines are sending dopamine alarms in her brain.Â
Ellie receives one gentle kiss that makes her hips
grind forward before she hears, âYou ever been tied up?â The raven-haired woman mumbles against her mouth. She whines, cheeks burning, âN-No,â she whispers.Â
Her perfect teeth shine, âYou wanna be?âÂ
Does she? âI â yeah, I guess?âÂ
âPut your wrists together,â she hums and Ellie does. Her own bow tie gets looped and twisted around her nimble hands. The woman drops to her knees in front of the trembling girl, massaging her thighs over her jeans, planting kisses all over them, âYou gotta name, honey?âÂ
âEllie⊠MâEllieâŠâ The womanâs hands creep up to unbutton her jeans, the soft hiss of the zipper, âWhatâs yours?â She only receives a shrug. âWhatever you want it to be.â Her jeans are yanked down seconds later, her⊠fucking Cartoon Network boxers drenched all the way through. The woman giggles and calls Ellie a cutie pie and her clit jumps.Â
Her manicured nails hook under the band of Ellieâs boxers, slowly inching them down until her soft, sticky hairs are on display and her boxers are around her knees, âGonna let me eat this pussy out, angel?âÂ
Ellieâs vision whites out. Only for a second, âY-Yes, maâamâŠâ
Ellieâs sopping lips and pulled apart, her red, throbbing clit on display for the fucking witch in front of her. âYouâre so fuckinâ cute. Anybody ever play with this pretty cunt?â Reality crashes down on her like a boulder as images of you touching her, kissing her flash before her eyes. Her jaw slacks as her words flurry.Â
âJust â fuck, just one time.âÂ
âYeah?â She coos, massaging gentle circles on her clit, âI'm your lucky second?â Ellie nods frantically. Her knees buckle when a sharp slap lands on her pussy, âFfuckââ The strokes on her clit are punishing, fast and non-stopping, the womanâs teeth gritted when she asks, âSteppinâ out on your girl, huh?âÂ
Ellie moans around her denial while her cheeks glow, âNâ agh, s-shit, wasnât mâgirlââ
âYeah? She touch you like me?â The woman snickers, and Ellie burns red. Sheâs already so close and she canât fucking think, âThink mâcumminâââ Ellie slurs, her tongue thick in her mouth as her walls squeeze down, desperately trying to pull something, anything in as deep as possible.Â
âCan feel it. Tell me when.â But Ellie couldnât. Her orgasm crashes into her like a fucking truck and her body falls forward, legs trembling as it wracks through her in harsh waves. The thighs that try to close are forced open, sharp stings radiating off her skin from the nails that pierce them. Strong suctions attack Ellieâs clit and she sobs, practically riding the womanâs face. Vibrations from satisfied hums stimulate her further, and she swears sheâs going to pass out.Â
The pleasure builds all over again and her eyes squeeze shut, her hips thrusting forward and into the womanâs mouth. Her optics cycle into her skull when the space right below her clit gets stimulated just right and she rides that edge all over again, but this time, itâs stronger. The womanâs groaning in her pussy like sheâs starving, and Ellie can barely garble her warning of another orgasm.Â
She squeaks when a gentle finger slides between her walls and she wishes it felt like yours did. Ellieâs bound hands entangle in the soft locks and pull, pushing her head any which way to guide her where she needs. She doesnât register that sheâs whining your name until the woman asks, âThaâs your girl?â Right on her pussy, and Ellie tips.
Sheâs so loud when she explodes all over this strangerâs face, wetness coating her inner thighs, dripping all the way down to the bottoms locked around her ankles. You take refuge in the nasty side of her brain as she envisions you between her legs, you making her feel this good. Something about the way you touch her⊠She thinks it's impossible to replicate till this day.Â
When Ellie comes down, she falls against the door, relishing in the steady kitten licks on her twitching bud. One last gentle kiss, and the woman separates from the mess between Ellieâs thighs, chest wet with her juices.Â
âGood, honey?âÂ
Ellie blinks like sheâs risen from the dead, short hair clinging to her forehead. She shoots the woman two thumbs up and she chuckles, untying Ellieâs hands and helping her back onto her feet. The woman helps her redress after she cleans herself up, and Ellieâs nose twitches when her own stickiness latches onto her clothes. Her arms fall back to her sides when her belt gets secured.Â
Sheâs winded when she finally speaks, âUm⊠thanksâŠâ How the fuck does Ellie say goodbye to someone who sucked her soul out?
âNo problemâŠâ The womanâs warm hands are soft as they push away damp strands from Ellieâs forehead. The freckled girl nearly purrs. Call her Pickle at this point.Â
Ellie steps away from the door so that the fucking seductress can exit. The woman backs away and unlocks the door with a gentle smile. âYou should text her.âÂ
Ellieâs stomach churns. â⊠What.âÂ
âThe girl thatâs not your girl.â Thatâs the last thing she says before stepping out. Ellieâs heart plummets when her eyes lock with Saliyahâs, then Yukiâs. Her friends gawk at her disheveled appearance, lipstick stains littered all over her button up. Ellieâs not nearly as embarrassed as she should be; All she can think about is you.Â
âI think Iâm in trouble.â Ellie states mindlessly.
âDoesnât look like it.â Yuki snickers and pulls Ellie out of the bathroom. She hides her face when sheâs met with the long line of people desperately needing to piss.Â

WEEK SEVEN WITH DOCTOR BROWN.
âYou look bright.âÂ
You feel brighter. Just a little bit. Youâve finally gotten your locs retwisted.Â
âAmaya texted me back.â Dr. Brown seems impressed at your statement, happy for you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.Â
âYeah? Whatâd Ms. Producer say?âÂ
âShe, um⊠She wants to have dinner.âÂ
âOh? And whatâd you say?âÂ
âI said of course and then sobbed until I got here.â Dr. Brown chuckles, âWhenâs the big meal?âÂ
âIn two days. I got a hotel near where sheâs at, so⊠Yeah. Probably wonât see me for a little.âÂ
âGood for you, honey.â She says proudly, âHeard from any others?â Your head shakes. Itâs not surprising that Abby and Ellie havenât reached out to you. They donât owe you any closure, even though it took you a while to accept your karma.Â
âProgress is progress, nonetheless.â Her tone reverts back to stern, âRemember⊠when you see that girl, donât expect anything to come from it. Sheâs going out of her way to speak with you, not the other way around.âÂ
Your head bows shamefully. You're incredibly nervous to see your best friend⊠if you deserve to call her that anymore. Anxiety isnât foreign to you, but youâre anticipating the worst for your meeting. Youâd give anything to mend your relationship with Amaya, but howâre you going to be able to overcome the guilt of abandoning her?

You canât remember the last time you went to the campus coffee shop.Â
When Amaya sent you her new address in the middle of your old college city, you sobbed for half an hour. Youâre not sure why considering the entirety of your graduating class is gone (hopefully in hell); Itâs a mix of emotions coming back here. The baristas that used to work here have been replaced with new bushy-tailed freshmen with under eye bags. The coffee isnât the best, but itâs oddly nostalgic. You feel fucking old just looking at their bright customer service smiles.
Your attention gets snagged away from your steaming cup when a sharp gasp echoes from behind you, nearly spilling your drink all over your flannel when someone calls your name. Anxiety spikes in your gut when you seeâŠÂ
Who is that?Â
âOh my goodness! Sweetheart!â An older woman with gray hair and a cardigan places her hand on your shoulder and your eyes bulge out of your skull. âItâs so good to see you!â
What the fuck is going on? âYou... You, too, uh⊠maâam!â You put on the most believable smile you can. Is your memory really this fucking bad?
âStudents donât usually stick around after this long! Our major was pretty small, you know how it is.â Major⊠Students⊠Graphic design⊠Professor! Your memory clicks but her name doesnât. What the fuck is this womanâs name! You feel like a cunt all over again!Â
âIâd love to catch up if youâre sticking around!âÂ
âUm⊠yeah, of course.â Her smile is bright when she enters the line. Relief floods through you when she gets to the service counter and one of the baristas says good morning, Professor Meyers!Â
You silently thank the Lord.Â
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âWhat brings you back to town, honey!â Professor Meyers asks excitedly.Â
âUm⊠just missinâ school, I guess.â You lie. Fuck this school.Â
She swallows her sip of tea before pausing, âWow. First time I heard that. I didnât see you at graduation!âÂ
Your chest concaves and your face burns, âI, uh. I didnât graduate. I dropped out.â Professor Meyers' expression drops, pity written all over her face.Â
âWhâ Why?âÂ
You shut down her interrogation, âI just⊠stuff happened. I couldnât handle everything all at once.â Her eyes sadden and she places a comforting hand on top of yours.Â
âIâm so sorry, honey. Whatever it was⊠I hope itâs okay, now.âÂ
âGetting through it.â You shrug, feigning nonchalance. The air is suddenly suffocating.Â
âYâknow⊠if youâre interestedâŠâ Professor Meyersâ tone is suggesting. Your brow quirks at the woman plotting in front of you.Â
âSome of the art profs are always looking for some extra help for the introductory courses. Your rough drafts were always pretty spectacular.âÂ
Your body burns. âThank you.âÂ
She smiles and reaches into her bag in the other chair, pulling out a small card and handing it to you. âThis is my contact information. I can set you an interview with Professor Ronson if youâd wanna join the little alumni support team.âÂ
You accept her card, âBut Iâm not⊠I didnât graduateâ â
âOh, hush now! If you go to college, youâre an alumni! These exclusive rules are outdated!â Professor Meyers stands with her bag and tea. âI gotta run, but please consider it! It could be a great marketing opportunity for you!âÂ
You're left to simmer in your thoughts as she rushes out of the cafe. You didnât even have the chance to tell her that you havenât touched a canvas since your fatherâs funeral.Â

You waltz into the upscale restaurant with tied lungs. Prepping an outfit for tonight was a hassle; You were forced to rummage through your fatherâs closet for suitable attire. You canât remember the last time you made a purchase for yourself.Â
You feel out of place standing here with the⊠upper class. Theyâre dressed to the nines and itâs incredibly intimidating. Your eyes cast downward to your wrinkly shirt and blazer; Why didnât you bring a fucking iron?Â
âHow can I help you, miss?â
Your eyes bulge when they lock with the hostâs and gut churns with discomfort. Your legs wobble closer to the counter, âIâ thereâs⊠reservationâŠâ
The host stares at you with utter confusion, âOh, sure! Whatâs the name?âÂ
âUm⊠Amayaâ â
âMs. Robinson?â The hostâs eyes fill with glitter, âOh my gosh, when I saw her walk in earlier, I was like, no way sheâs actually here. This is crazy! But it was really her! I couldnât believeâ â
Another host interjects, âMy apologies, maâam! Sheâs a bit, uh, excited. Your table is right this way.â The host begins walking, and your feet move on autopilot, âWould you like a menu?âÂ
âNo. Iâm good, thanks.â You wonât be able to keep anything down anyway.Â
You move through bustling walkways, ears filled with bouts of obnoxious laughter and corny jokes with each table you pass.Â
Your heart stutters in your chest when you see the isolated leather and rosewood booth where Amaya sits, her back to you. Thereâs two glasses and a bottle of⊠something on the table.Â
âMs. Robinson! Your guest is here!âÂ
Amaya, filled glass in hand, cranes her neck and meets your flitting gaze. Her eyes are stagnant, unmoving, and your nerves wrack. She looks fucking immaculate with the slit in her black dress, smokey makeup, heeled
shoes. Sheâs dressed down for a fucking funeral. Yours.Â
Youâre actually not ready to see her. Youâre not ready at all.Â
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âYou want a glass?âÂ
Amayaâs tone is cold. Colder than the dripping neck of the bottle right in front of you. âN-No thank you.âÂ
She scoffs laughter around the rim, âShocking.â You scramble for a reply, anything to say to the woman oozing impatience in front of you.Â
âIâm sorry.â You whisper. She sets her glass down with an unsteady clink.Â
âYou said that already.â She states, brown eyes sharp. âWhy are you?âÂ
You scratch at your ear, trying to mask the tremors in your fingertips, âBecause⊠I â I wasnâtâŠâÂ
âI donât hear from you for months,â She spits, âAnd then I get a phone call from my drunk best friend screaminâ at me, tellinâ me that I fucking left her to grieve by herself⊠because Iâm selfish and money hungry⊠Right?â
Angry tears sizzle in Amayaâs eyes as she continues, âAnd I still come and visit you⊠only to get a door slammed in my fuckinâ face.âÂ
Youâre completely frozen; You can barely look her in the eye. Your hands are clenched together under the table, nausea creeping up your throat. âI⊠thereâs no excuse for what I didâ â
Amayaâs eyes are void, âWhy did you do it.âÂ
âI donât know how to explain it,â you rush out, desperate. Youâre losing her, âHe â I was just â I couldnât control myself and I screamed and yelled and blamed everyone for what happened. I was just so mad and I couldnât stopâ â
âAbby called me two days ago.âÂ
You gasp, âS-She didâ?âÂ
âShe told me she hated you.â Amaya says plainly. The remaining shards of your heart dissipate like dust, leaving your mouth when you whimper, âO-Okay.â Tears stream down your cheeks and neck, harsh sniffles filling the small corner of the restaurant. âShe hasnât, um⊠never mind.â Thatâs why she hasnât reached out, you suppose. Well deserved.Â
âI don't⊠hate you, you know that, right?âÂ
You sob, palms in your eyes, âSâokay if you do. I deserve it.âÂ
She shrugs, âI donât. Iâm just very disappointed in you.â You nod in agreement, in understanding. You accept that this is probably the last time youâll ever see someone you considered a sister.Â
âIâm so sorry, Mayâ â
âMâgonna head out. Iâm,â She wipes a tear and grabs her bag, throwing a hundred-dollar bill on the table. âI⊠I donât hate you.â You cry as you watch Amaya gather herself, stand, and leave without another word. You heave and attempt to dry your face with the fresh napkin but they wonât stop flowing.Â
Itâs difficult, accepting that youâre undeserving. That youâve dug yourself into a hole that you canât escape. Itâs dark and cold and youâre desperate for comfort but it never comes because you chased it all away. You eye the tall bottle that sweats; Very tempting, but you leave it where it stands. The blame for your downfall is yours to take; The only reward you can receive now is from your upkeep. To dig yourself out from beneath the maggot-infested dirt. To resurface and recover what you can.Â
Youâre unsure how long you sit here crying. Devastation sets hard in your tummy when you stand to leave the restaurant, ignoring the judgmental stares from the annoying, old fuckers that wouldnât stop glaring at you.Â
The air outside is fresh and soothing as you walk, right past your parked car. Past the young people mingling and taking pictures. Past the girl doing graffiti on the old building across the street. Something beats in your chest when you eye her spray paint cans, brushes in her hand, the bright colors all over her bare arms. Her passion is evident, even from a distance, and you miss that. That feeling that takes over when you create something that no one else can replicate. Her style is unique to her just like yours is to you.Â
Color sparks in your soul for the first time in a year, and you know what you have to do tomorrow morning.Â

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