#and we spend the days just talking and drinking and laughing forever

[nereidprinc3ss]

hourglass

in which spencer disappears from fem!reader's life entirely for three months, right as it seems they were finally about to make things official. when he comes back they reunite, all the while knowing things can't be the same as they were.

18+ (smut, angst) warnings/tags: oh god so many. NOT canon compliant in the slightest, i make shit up, softdom!spence, nipple stuff prob, fingering, oral f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex, pet names, tara mentioned, depression, mentions of trauma cause its the prison arc duh, passing mentions of alcohol, mentions of spencer losing weight, reader mistakenly thinks spencer tried to kill himself BUT ONLY FOR A SECOND, where is diana reid, nobody knows or cares, probably filming glee, optimistic ending a/n: haven't posted smut in forever but this wip required it and the angst was so angsty i just had to finish it. it was started in jan or feb and subsequently added to and changed months apart and then edited so the writing quality varies from section to section which i apologize for. originally based on good guy by julia jacklin... also the odyssey by homer? can't really explain that one you'll just have to see for yourself anyway byeeee ilysm!!! PLS tell me if you liked it! or if you hated it! but preferably if you liked it! MWAH! wc <12k

It’s been about three months since you last saw Spencer Reid.

About three months since you had an early Valentine’s Day celebration (even though you weren’t a couple) complete with champagne (even though he doesn’t usually drink) and slow dancing (even though you swore you’d be terrible and he spent the first ten minutes laughing at you as you stepped on his toes.)

About three months since you finally settled your head on his shoulder and let the warbling vinyl carry you somewhere distant as the two of you danced slow circles on the parquet floor for what felt like hours.

You’d have liked him to stay later that night. You’d have liked him to stay all night if you were being honest with yourself, but at 11:45 he gently pulled away and told you he had to go.

“Curfew?” you joked, the corner of your mouth lifting a little and you hoped you were hiding your disappointment well.

“Actually, I’m going down to Texas for a few days to speak with one of the leading doctors in experimental Alzheimer's and dementia treatment. I’m going to see if he can get my mom into a clinical trial. I leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing, Spencer! What are you doing still here? You should be at home getting ready to go!”

A rosy blush stains his cheeks and he looks down at the ground, laughing that little self-deprecating laugh of his. It makes your heart dance to see him so happy, makes you want to wrap your arms around him and never let him go so that he knows how much you absolutely adore him—but you settle for an affectionate squeeze where your hands have come to rest on his biceps.

“I wanted to see you tonight because I won’t be here for Valentine’s Day... but I still really wanted to spend it with you,” he admits meekly.

If before your heart was dancing, it is now melting.

The dreaded ‘what are we’ talk has been lurking in the dark corners of every conversation you have with each other lately—at least, in your mind it has. What you have with Spencer is not easily defined, and near impossible to explain to your friends—you act like a couple, you go out on dates, he introduces you to his team like you’re his girlfriend without ever putting it into so many words—but this validation that your pseudo-relationship might be evolving is better than any flowers he could have gotten you (although the peonies he brought will look very nice on your bedside table.)

“Four whole days... what will I do without you?” you whisper, brushing a hand along his face, and your chest aches with the heavy truth of it—despite the fact that he often is gone for stretches about that length. They don’t ever start to feel shorter.

“Well, you can start by reading that copy of The Odyssey I annotated for you.”

“Depressing,” you admit. “And a little ominous, considering you’re about to embark on a hero’s journey.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” he smiles.

You chew on your bottom lip, looking up at him as you think.

“Give me something to look forward to,” you say, earnestly.

“I—well, honestly, I just really want to kiss you and I’ve wanted to for a long time now and, you know, if that’s something you’re maybe also interested in then we could, uh, figure out a time to—”

“You want to kiss me?”

“Wh—you couldn’t tell?” Spencer says, like he can’t believe it.

As if on reflex, you lunge up and capture his lips with your own. It obviously catches him by surprise, but when you lower from your tiptoes he follows you, pulling you in closer and holding your face in his hands.

It’s too natural, too right, to be exhilarating. There’s no rush of adrenaline—it's more like stepping into a hot bath or warming your freezing hands at a fire. Like pieces clicking into place. It’s a relief.

You breathe into it, letting more and more of yourself melt against him. He keeps coming back to you deeper and deeper like a rising tide, and you want more than anything to keep getting closer to him—but then he stops. He stays close enough for you to breathe his air, but dodges your kiss gently before supplanting it with a gentle one to the corner of your mouth.

“I really have to go,” he breathes, before moving away from your mouth to kiss your forehead and speak softly against your skin. “If I don’t leave now I’ll be here all night.”

Which is exactly what you want, and the implication does little to make you want him less. But you care about him too much to be so selfish.

At some point, his hands found their way into your hair, and you gently grab his wrists.

“Incentive for you to come home.”

Nearly three months since that night.

At first when he stopped answering texts, you’d assumed he just had too much going on down in Texas. Which you could understand—you knew how stressful this situation with his mother was.

Even when four days came and went without even an alert from him that he was back in town, you thought, okay, maybe he’s been called away on a case. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s disappeared because of his work. But even then, he’d at least text you enough information so that you would know he was alive. Now, radio silence.

So you tried not to be clingy. You tried to act like an adult, to focus on school and your life outside of Spencer, but when Tara Lewis cancelled your weekly meeting due to an “unforeseen work-related emergency”you called her immediately. Tara was something of a mentor, and it was she who had connected you and Spencer to begin with. You had met the other members of his team by that point, yes, but none who you knew as well as Tara.

When she had informed you that Spencer had been arrested in Mexico and was now facing prison time for murder, you laughed.

Laughed until you realized her end of the line was silent.

Realized it was not at all a joke.

In a catatonic state of tranquility, you asked her for more details. Beyond assuring you of his innocence, she couldn’t (or more likely, wouldn’t) provide them. Asked where he was now. Asked all the right things that made sense to ask.

Then you hung up and had a panic attack because Tara said something about 25 years and you saw Spencer evaporate from your future like an apparition.

Slowly, you felt him evaporating from your past, too. Those memories from the night he left, became visions of you swaying with a ghost. Holding nothing but light between your hands as you kissed the peony air of your apartment.

He doesn’t want to see you, she had said into the phone one night, her tinny voice cutting in and out. You’re not on his list of approved visitors.

“You asked him about me?” you had whispered, curled up on top of your made bed in the dark.

I tried. I’m sorry. I’ll call you when I know more.

All your days melded together like a muddied smear of paint. Suddenly you felt you had nothing to look forward to. No anchor, no goal. Yes, a PhD... and then what?

The only thing that punctuated one 24 hour period from the next was the time you spent crying because Spencer was in prison and he didn’t want to see you and by the looks of things you may never see him again. When you weren’t crying, you were thinking about how your life was a big cosmic joke. An unfortunate statistical anomaly that didn’t mean anything to anyone else, and that you couldn’t do anything about.

That copy of The Odyssey, which wasn’t even bound and instead was a thick stack of printer paper organized by a single black clip, became something of a manifesto for you—a tome that your poured over, reading and re-reading each note in the margins, each word beautiful and imbued with meaning because you knew Spencer had selected every single one specifically for you. You traced the letters reverently, because in a way this was the last thing he had said to you—about Lattimore’s faith to the original text, Merrill’s strict use of dactylic hexameter, the stylings of Wilson and Lombardo, and how he thought you would enjoy Hammond’s prose just as much as he did.

Day by day it was becoming more prophetic than fictional, and you allowed yourself to sink into madness. You would rather be a deluded zealot than be nothing at all.

He didn’t want to see you.

He might as well have been dead, for all that you were grieving him. And you started to hate him, because he wasn’t dead, but wouldn’t do you the kindness of proving it. Like a festering wound, scratched open day after day so as not to ever heal, you had to live knowing he was less than an hour away. So no, you weren’t exactly over it. You lived day by day, waiting for the occasional call from Tara to keep you updated on Spencer, but either she didn’t want to share much about how he was doing, or he had specifically barred her from doing so, because she was always sparse on the personal side of things. That thought actually lifted your spirits, because it meant he was at least acknowledging your existence in some tiny way.

But your routine was becoming more regular, and so you staid on top of your classes and your non-Reid related meetings with Tara once a week, and you learned to dip your toes into existential dread and the oily black pool of depression every night without ever fully submerging yourself. You learned hope, because it was pretty much all you had, and the BAU had confidence that they would get Spencer out one way or another so you did too.

So you didn’t really think about it when you missed a couple of calls from Tara some evening in May. You were preparing for finals and had way too much on your plate academically to think about anything else which was a welcome relief so you fully embraced it. I’ll call her back tomorrow, you think, as you clean up from dinner before going back to the living room where your textbooks and papers are completely covering every available surface. Maybe I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life after school, but I’ll be damned if I don’t even make it that far.

Hours later, well into the night, you’d all but forgotten about the calls. A knock at the door takes you a bit by surprise, and you frown as you stand again, tugging your Georgetown sweatshirt down over your shorts as you shuffle to the entrance of your apartment. You’re not expecting anyone, so you crack the door, peering around the edge of it.

And you couldn’t even consider trying to hide that shaky inhalation of dead air when you see Spencer standing on the other side.

Surely you’re hallucinating.

Surely this man in front of you who looks like he just got back from a day of work didn’t spend three months in prison pretending you didn’t exist.

He looks the same. Hair a bit longer, maybe—and gaunter even more than is normal for him. 

But it's him.

You can’t think about the apprehensive look on his face—you can’t think about the impossibility of him being here. You can’t think at all. Without your explicit permission, your body surges forward into his, and he’s real, and alive, and warm, and he is an anachronism in the hallway as he accepts everything you pour into the embrace, doesn’t flinch when you move your arms from around his waist to loop around his neck and back to his waist again with crushing force because you just can’t get him close enough.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer mutters into your hair, I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry, he keeps saying, rubbing your back as you try to find a solid grip on the sleek material of his suit—try to gather all the pieces of him, already afraid he might fall apart and float away again.

“You—dis—disappeared,” you hiccup after an eternity, pulling away enough to look up at his pretty face. Tears blur your vision and darken the front of his jacket, bending the florescent lights so they form a kind of halo above his head.

Through the surreal haze you can see his throat bob.

“I know.”

He knows?

He knows?

You scoff.

“You have no fucking idea, Spencer. What the fuck is wrong with you? I—I'm—”

The hot anger is such a relief for a second, boiling the oceans of your despair into a wrathful, scorching fog, but as soon as you try to tell him how you feel, the barbed wire cuts into your throat again. You shove him away, skin burning where his hands had been.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, hands hanging uselessly at his side. There’s that kicked puppy look about him—and it’s familiar, but now there’s more damage. You don’t know anything about his time in prison, you haven’t heard a damn thing, but beneath the glassy desperation in his eyes there is an unfathomable void that seems to be preventing him from being fully present—and you realize for the first time that he is different.

It chills you.

Before, you and Spencer shared everything. There wasn’t one part of his internal machinations that you didn’t understand, nothing you kept from each other. But as you study him now from a few feet away, you realize there might as well be a yawning chasm between the two of you.

He is so different.

Those eyes look deeper. No gears turning just behind the slashes of gold and brown anymore—only an endless dark corridor that goes places you will never go.

Gone is the perpetual boyish up-turn at the corner of his lips that always made him look slightly vacant in a way that you found incredibly amusing. Something you had been so fond of, even if you teased him.

He seems to have aged ten years—if not physically, then in demeanor. And now you feel like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

You cross your arms, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

You’re embarrassed. And pissed. And relieved. Everything is worse and better. You want to fall back into his arms, but you have been jarred by the revelation that this might not be the same Spencer. It might not be the same relationship. You have no idea where you stand.

He says your name gently, with so much familiarity you’re briefly jerked into the past. It makes you wish you could look up to find him as he was three months ago. Wish this was just a bad dream. But that’s not fair to him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, studying the grey carpet fibers instead of looking at him.

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says immediately, “you’re right. I don’t—” he clears his throat— “I’m being incredibly selfish. I shouldn’t have just shown up, I’ll just—I'll leave. I’m sorry.”

A silent moment passes.

You don’t look up as he turns and swiftly begins to move down the hall toward the stairway, leaving as quickly and silently as he had come, like a few bars of a song sighed in and away on a fleeting breeze.

Your bare feet are concretely planted, imagining him jogging down the steps and speed-walking away from your building—

And suddenly you’re sprinting after him, feeling like you might puke because Spencer was just here and you let him go again—and even though you’re still so mad and confused and hurt, the realization that he is leaving again makes the entire building spin and lurch.

“Wait!” You yell, almost wiping out as you run down the stairs and whip around corners in your slippery fucking socks. “Please, wait!”

The lobby is already empty as you spill out into it, and cold dread tightens around your neck like a fist as you shoulder your way through the double doors and right into Spencer.

“Please don’t leave again, you just—I'm sorry, I really need you to not go—” you blabber, lachrymose once more, gripping onto his forearms for dear life.

“I’m not going,” he breathes shakily. “I tried to leave because I think you were right and maybe I should and maybe it would be better for you but I can’t.”

“You can’t,” you agree, more sob than spoken word. He cups your jaw, then your cheeks, wiping tears and brushing away hair like he can’t figure out how to hold enough of you between his hands. The wild kaleidoscope of his eyes, bright and alive and real as he scans you desperately captures your attention enough to slow the tears to a trickle. He notices this and stares back, entranced.

A silent agreement is made, or maybe an inevitable fate is accepted—either way, something was set in motion three months ago and it matters to see it through. Spencer kisses you and you’re ready for it. You don’t need slow or tender. You need to feel how he feels. You need to know what he knows.

You sling your arms around his neck and he pulls you closer until you almost tip backward, chasing the bruising kiss even as you regain your footing. You want to drink him in and you do your best, breathing deeply as he kisses you deeper, backing you inside and toward the elevator.

“Is this okay?” he manages, only after blindly reaching for and mashing the up button on the wall panel.

Ideally it wouldn’t happen like this, but the world you live in obviously isn’t ideal and your personal situations as they coincide are far from ideal, so this is how it has to happen. But it’s hard to explain, and you’d rather not admit that this is so far from what you wanted for both of you and follow up with the fact that despite that you need him like you need water. So you don’t say a word as the metal doors slide open promptly. Instead you pull him in and let him press you to the chrome wall as he hits your floor button, and that very hand comes back to grab your ass like you didn’t think Spencer Reid capable of. It almost aches as his fingers dig into the flesh, but it’s a good ache because it means he’s real and he’s there.

You gasp as he hitches your leg up, arching into him. The shorts that you’re wearing leave very little to the imagination to begin with, but they become downright indecent like this.

Quickly the elevator stops and the doors hiss open. You don’t hesitate to pull Spencer by the hand down the hall. When you notice you left your door wide open, you don’t even care. Neither does he, apparently—once you’re inside he slams it shut, flipping the deadbolt while his eyes are glued to you like you’re already naked. Now Spencer is shameless in the way he drags his eyes over every curve, every place your clothes and hair are disheveled from his touch and eye-fucks you so obviously it makes your face warm. Three months ago Spencer would have at least been bashful about it when he met your eyes again, but this Spencer is far from apologetic as he pins you with his burning gaze once more. His hand stays stuck to the door like he’s holding himself back.

“Is this what you want?”

There’s an undercurrent of sorrow below the gravely arousal, like this isn’t what he wanted for the two of you either. But you’re both at the mercy of fate. This is all you have, and it might be all you can do for each other anymore. So you don’t need to say that, because he understands.

“Yeah. Yes, this is what I want.”

For just a second more he watches you from his place by the door, and there’s an unexpected softness to it. He looks at you the way he would have looked at you before. Like as long as he stays there he can entertain the idea of being that person again.

Need wins out quickly, though, and he surges forward. Immediately you’re caught in the riptide of him, helpless as he kisses you all the way to your bedroom.

He’s never been in here before. You find yourself glad it’s relatively clean—one of the pastimes you’d picked up in his absence was keeping everything tidy. It was something you could control.

A lamp glows at your bedside. You lean against the footboard of your bed, hands timidly behind your back and suddenly shy to have in him in your intimate space. Both of you set aside the heaving desperation long enough to catch your breaths, and for him to scan the room like he too is being forced to reconcile with the innate and unexpected intimacy of the moment. He cuts a harsh, dark gash in your sweetly decorated bedroom, radiating something wild and powerful and unsure of himself like a chained bull as he takes in the soft, pale bedding, the paintings and photos taped to the walls, the woven rug and the sheer drapery. His breathing slows as he studies it all—eyes eventually catching on something behind you. Looking is unnecessary. You’re sure he’s spotted the dried peonies in their ceramic vase. Or maybe the now worn stack of papers that is his Odyssey, marked up and soft around the edges from constant flipping-through.

Then Spencer looks at you, and that softness seeps in again. Along with something like... fear? Grief?

In some other universe your first time with Spencer is sweet and giggly and kind and he smiles at the decor in your room and looks around with wonder because it’s another way he gets to know you. It’s a different way to learn you from the inside.

You sense that he’s caught in between universes right now as well, painfully aware of what he would have given you that he can’t anymore.

He breathes your name like an apology, and foolishly you let a second go by in which you think he might offer you one. But he doesn’t. Not with his words, anyway. His eyes tell a different story.

“It’s fine,” you say unprompted on a whispered exhale, then a little louder as you push off the footboard, crossing the space until your hands are on his chest. You focus on his tie, not making eye contact as you rush to undo it. “It’s fine.”

He lets you do this for a few seconds before finally covering your trembling hands with his own. You still can’t meet his eyes.

“We don’t have to do—”

“No! No, please. I want to. I need—I need us to be okay.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, catching your chin and forcing you to look at him. “We are okay. Me and you are fine.”

It’s a pretty thought, but it’s not true. In fact, it’s a hideous and abject affront to the truth. Sure, maybe you’re fine in comparison to last week. Maybe anything feels fine compared to an eight by six cell. But it would be impossible for you and Spencer, for your relationship, whatever that relationship may be, to be fine. It’s especially impossible for him to make that claim, after all he did or rather didn’t do while he was gone. What you need is for him to stay anyway. What you need is to find a way to be with him, to exist with him, even when you are so clearly not fine.

“I just need you to stay,” you whisper, and he’s already nodding, wide-eyed like he’d do anything for you. You ignore all the bitter venom rising in your throat. You pretend this isn’t all happening after he cut you out of his life with a dirty switchblade. Instead you focus on his hands on yours, the familiar smell of him, which invites you to let go of each and every thought and worry. He must’ve showered before coming here, you realize. How long has he been out? What happened? 

“Okay. Okay, I can stay. What else can I do? How do I make it better?”

You sniffle and look back down.

“You can untie that for me.”

He hesitates, then nods some more, fingers working under yours to undo the tie around his neck.

“Okay.”

A moment goes by and after that final whispered word, the tension begins to build again. Spencer senses it in the way your fingertips linger on his chest and you step even closer, dragging them down to his belt. The metallic sound of it unbuckling, despite being your own doing, still manages to flip your stomach. How many times have you pictured this? When was the first time you realized you wanted it? You’re sure you haven’t stopped wanting it even once since then.

Spencer tosses the tie away and is shrugging off his jacket now, then before you see it coming he’s kissing you again, ducking down to do it. He feels taller this close up, and especially in your bedroom, where he just seems rather out of place. But you want him here. God, you want him here.

You break the kiss, forced to look down as you fumble with his belt.

“Sorry,” you gasp, embarrassed by your lack of dexterity. The light is barely sufficient to see what you’re doing, especially when he’s wearing black on black and your eyes are still bleary.

“You’re okay,” he assures you, and it’s so Spencer a fresh round of nerves electrifies the tips of your fingers. That thing is happening—the thing you’d hoped to avoid if you hadn’t lost momentum partway through, where you’re allowing your actual feelings for him to get in the way rather than getting swept up in the pathos of the moment and letting everything be easy and mindless. “Here, can I help you?”

But he doesn’t actually wait for an answer before he’s finishing off the belt for you, tugging it loose from his hips till it’s a leather coil in his hands. Your fingers brush the material and he lets you take it as if it were your prize. It’s heavier than you thought it’d be, and you just feel the weight of it in your hands for a moment, your dropped head brushing his chest.

You have a terrible feeling that if you do this now, it doesn’t mean everything will be alright. Because it can’t just go back to normal. Spencer has told you nothing of what must be an enormous trauma, and you haven’t spoken about it at all, but you sincerely doubt that after this he’s going to be ready to just jump into that committed relationship the two of you had been toying with for months before his absence. You’re almost... scared of him, now. Scared of where he’s been and what he’s endured—things you’re sure you couldn’t have taken. What that does to a person, you can’t imagine. He seems so solid and real in front of you now—but you know that’s not always enough. Maybe you’re just scared that somehow whatever he’s been through will have made him care for you less. That you were too far removed from the whole ordeal, and now you’ll never understand. If you could understand, maybe you could fix it for him. Maybe he’d stick around.

Still—even if you do end up pushing him further away in the long run—won't it have been worth it to have had him so completely, even just once?

You toss the belt to the ground, compressing all of these very complicated thoughts and feelings into a few seconds so short he can’t ask you any questions about them. Instead you find his top button, and just as you manage to undo it with relative ease he’s gently grabbing your wrists. You look up at him, immediately surrendering.

“If we’re going to do this I need you to relax a little bit.”

Gears grind in your chest. You feel need and anxiety comingling in every square inch of your body. It’s a sick buzz—a high on an empty stomach.

“I can’t,” you admit.

“Yeah, you can,” Spencer gently disagrees, slowly lowering your hands. When he’s sure you’re not going to try ripping his clothes off again, he releases, and his eyes lower to the zipper of your hoodie. His fingers follow, warm against the soft triangle of revealed skin at your chest as he grips the small piece of metal between barely shaking fingers. “You can.”

You match his eyeline, breathing shallowly and watching as he slowly drags the zipper down. You wonder if that sound has haunted his fantasies the way the sound of his belt has haunted yours. If he’s seen this hoodie on you and wondered what’s underneath, staring at you and daydreaming during movie night with you none the wiser.

Both of you have your eyes glued to the span of skin as the zipper parts. Spencer stalls with the zipper at your sternum, just below the band of your bra.

Right. No shirt.

You look up and find his eyes already on you, tinged with a curious kind of humor.

“I wasn’t expecting guests.”

The words come out shy. Spencer’s chuckle has its own nervous airy quality as he resumes tugging on your zipper, leaning down until your noses bump.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Then he kisses you again, a little sweeter now. Sweet enough to give you butterflies and for them to flutter right out of your stomach and spill from your lips in a little whimper against his.

It comes as a surprise when he pushes the fabric from your shoulders without looking or asking. Not that you’d have said no—you're just underprepared for how assertive he is in this foreign context.

Left just in your flimsy shorts and your thin bra, you feel quite exposed—but Spencer’s hands are as demanding and hungry as his mouth. They skim up your sensitive sides and sweep lower, suggesting less proper placement over your ass and pulling at your bottoms until you gently put a stop to their wandering.

“Wait. We’re... we’re uneven.”

It’s a struggle to get any words out at all when he keeps chasing your lips, nipping at you like he physically can’t stand not kissing you, but they catch his attention and he laughs airily, pulling back to let his gaze pour over your less clothed form. It lingers and catches and lights you up everywhere it touches, drops of heat soaking into your skin and making you feel all fuzzy and needy.

“We are,” he acknowledges, tone low and colored with the faintest smile. “You’re a lot prettier without your clothes on than I am.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The challenge comes immediately and thoughtlessly. Spencer’s golden eyes flash up to yours. He’s breathing a little harder than usual.

“You want me to show you what I mean?”

If that means getting him naked, then yes, absolutely.

You nod, but rather than immediately stripping, he takes your hand and holds his own open next to it. A thick pink scar bisects some pretty significant palmistry lines, but you don’t mention that. Instead you swallow—your thoughts, your words, your nausea.

“That’s new.”

You wonder how you hadn’t noticed it earlier.

He nods.

“A lot is new.”

It sounds almost like he’s challenging you—there's a kind of tremulous force in his voice, despite the perpetual softness there, like he’s inviting you to say it’s ugly. And you realize he’s referring to more than just the glowing scar cutting an asteroid trail against the flesh of him palm. The scars he obtained in prison must form a constellation over his body.

“I don’t care. I wanna see you.”

Spencer swallows, cupping your face with the scarred hand once more. You can’t feel it against your cheek but you know it hasn’t gone away.

“I’m sure you think you do,” he permits, and that’s where the conversation ends for the moment—with his hand on your face and his lips back on yours. “For now why don’t you let me worry about you?”

Obediently, you breathe, “okay.”

This is, for whatever reason, amusing to him. The brief levity dies as quick as it comes like a snuffed-out brush fire as soon as he lets his hands fall back down to your hips.

“I want... I want to give you slow. But...”

But slow is for people who didn’t lose three months of their life. Slow is for people who don’t know what it’s like to be starving. Slow is not for the desperate.

You understand the feeling.

“I don’t need slow.”

You’ll let him use you up like quick-burning fuel if that’s what he needs. You’ll go as fast and as bright and as hot as he tells you.

“But you want slow,” he murmurs, a secret acknowledged into your own waiting mouth. You’d keep it there forever. You could be the object he hides his soul in. “I know you do. You deserve to get what you want.”

“I can go fast. I want whatever you can give me.”

Spencer’s shuddering exhale is like a drug, dizzying as you inhale it and your eyes flutter at the high, pressed head-to-head with him. For so long you’ve needed him so badly. It’s overwhelming to have him now, all over you. If only your walls could breathe him in the way you are, if this room could remember what it feels like to hold him the way you will, if any inanimate object could bear witness to how you’ll give yourself, any part of yourself, over to him, so willingly.

“I’m going to try.” Spencer’s voice is hoarse as he walks backward to the bed, taking you by the hips as he goes. “I want to do it right. I want to do this the way I... the way I imagined it, before...”

Now he’s sitting, and you’re standing between his legs as he finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, his fingers a comforting pressure where they ghost down the slope of your back. Your heart is pounding at the confession, at the way his tongue darts over his bottom lip and his fingertips journey back up to your straps, looking up at you with haloed irises as if he’d find anything other than the most dangerous kind of smoldering devotion in your eyes—the kind cult-leaders seek and spend years nurturing, and he’d earned with a mere brush over your bare skin.

The fabric slides down your arms, and as it falls to the floor, you watch something like despair flash-flood his eyes. It is a deep, distinctly human grief. The ineffable kind where something is almost too beautiful; so perfect it offends the mortal senses because it should be permanent, but nothing is, and the clash of divine beauty with unstoppable time which oxidizes copper and covers marble with vine is almost as grotesque as metal rending delicate flesh. It is the grief that drove the first poet to write and the first parents to press their baby’s painted hands to the walls of a cave. It is the desire to do the impossible—to capture ephemeral perfection and make it eternal, and the knowledge that it is hopeless. You recognize it because you’ve felt it for him.

“I thought about you all the time,” he whispers, doesn’t bother calling you beautiful but you don’t mind because he’s telling you with his hands and his eyes and the waver of his voice. “When I was gone, I thought about you—”

You’re just as quiet, just as soft.

“Don’t, Spencer.”

He doesn’t get to tell you about when he was gone. Not now. Not after he acted like you didn’t exist.

“Okay.” He swallows the things he’d wanted to tell you like you choked on the things you needed to tell him for three months. “I’m sorry.”

But his hands—his hands are perfect over your waist and his lips are perfect where they kiss your ribs like they’re his homeland. You could forgive a thousand wrongs for each kiss he puts to your skin. Light from the full moon stretches over the room like a blessing from the cosmos, and you have every intention of making the most of that gift, how the silver gilds the planes of his face and highlights curls like they were carved, and invites you to search for something in each shadow.

Some of his kisses land over the sensitive skin of your breasts though you doubt he has much intention or that there is any sort of end-goal with the trail he blazes—in fact, you have to root your hand in his hair and pull gently back when he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s making you wait again. His eyes are glassy and cheeks slightly pinkened—you weren’t expecting this wave of fondness to knock you on your ass but here you are, falling all over again.

“You don’t have to go that slow.”

A slow smile splits the heart of his mouth at your bashful tone and he’s emboldened to bring his hands higher for a moment, thumbs brushing particularly delicate though not downright indecent spots. Nonetheless, your breath catches.

“Impatient girl,” he scolds, and though it’s lighthearted it still inspires heat to dance across your face. Oh, I think I’ve been plenty patient, you itch to say, but you bite it back because it’s only sad and true and unkind.

Still, he gives you the beginning of what you want, really only the tip of the enormous iceberg that is your desire for him, by slipping his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down. His hands slide up the fronts of your thighs, tracing the trim of your underwear, and you’d swear he’s not even breathing. The moment one of his hand loops behind your knee and pulls forward until it’s pressed to the mattress and you’re half-kneeling, half standing, desire begins to truly cloud your mind. Manhandling never seemed like Spencer’s style, but when paired with how softly he reveals your hip, pulling gently down on the fabric of your underwear just to admire you up close, you don’t mind it.

More kisses are littered over your stomach, and he takes you by surprise a second time with a quick maneuver landing you on your back and him on top of you.

“I wasn’t doing you justice with my imagination,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I couldn’t have known.”

“Couldn’t have known what?” you pant as he shamelessly digs his fingers into the plush of your ass. You almost hope it bruises.

“How pretty you would be,” he coos like he means it, and you dissolve, slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. “You were holding out on me.”

It’s a tease, not at all serious, but you manage to hit him with a, “Was not, asshole,” and he chuckles, placating your little hurt with another sticky kiss, and you get another disorienting glimpse of some other timeline where you’re both a little less damaged. Where it’s a little easier.

But in this timeline, his touch becomes starving and ragged and urgent, and you accept the drag of his thumb up your thigh and between your legs, gasping when he runs his knuckles up the center of you. This touch is metal on screeching metal. It does not pretend to be anything more than what it is—brute, powerful, executed to elicit sensation. You get the sense that Spencer’s never touched anyone this honestly, and while you do envy the girls who got to have him gentler, you’ll take this as the compliment that it is. A kind of vulnerability that is nearing primal.

His lips, though—always his lips—are kind when they brush and land on your skin guided by some invisible map. A dip down your neck and chest and then a plunge, his tongue dragging over your hips, chasing the fabric of your underwear as he almost pulls it off and then reroutes, making room for himself between your legs and pushing lace aside to mark the hinge of your inner and upper-most thigh. Your chest heaves and you don’t dare move for fear he’ll stop leaving signs of himself on your body and you won’t be able to reassure yourself that it was real and he was here and it was not another dream.

Because something in you knows, if only consciously recognizing it for the first time now, that he will disappear again. That this may be your only chance.

The desire to make the ephemeral eternal. An impossibility.

He’s clearly losing himself to something, eyes shutting blissfully. You wonder when the last time he let his guard down even a  little was. You’re okay with being the thing he gets lost in, even if you’re not exactly okay with him—something you are becoming more acutely aware of as each touch makes a part of you want to cry. Maybe you still have some things in common. A strange pain that doesn’t quite feel like it belongs to you, for one thing.

You slam back into your body as his nose nudges against you through fabric, and his lips catch on cotton as he drags himself up, eventually settling a kiss against the little bow at the waist of your underwear. There he stays, eyes closed, mouth pressed to you.

“Is this okay?”

You swallow, buzzing. Is this really what he wants? After everything?

“You don’t have to...”

“But is it okay with you?”

Nothing more than an airy whisper, you reply, “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

Being emotional at this point seems wrong, but it’s difficult to ignore the fact that you have thought about this before and it’s finally happening but it’s not exactly as you’d imagined it. There is an indelible sadness to it, to the way he’s so hungry for you because he’s been deprived, to the desperation with which he touches you because he’s had everything taken from him.

For a moment, before he tugs your underwear down, he pauses, and you wonder if he’s freezing one moment in time, this moment, and grieving all the other ways it could’ve been, and accepting that this is the way it is going to be. You are.

These higher realms of thought abandon you as he finally pulls the last barrier down your legs and encourages you to spread them further. You don’t have time or energy to be embarrassed, not even by his staring, or the way his eyes dart up to yours and back down again, wide and shining, as if to say, have you seen yourself? Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

All you feel is the lack of him on you, the pull to have him closer so strong it’s almost sickening because he could be gone at any second. Maybe he understands that because he doesn’t waste anymore time before he’s kissing the most sensitive part of you. The drag of his tongue has you loosing a shuddering cry.

His mouth wanders, making connections you wouldn’t have realized the value of until you feel them on your skin. Your hips buck as he traces you and you’re unable to stop yourself from tangling your hands in his hair. Speech fails you—hell, you can hardly breathe as you watch his with a furrowed brow and parted lips, only expelling air from your lungs in the form of little cries and gasps and failing to hold your hips down to the bed.

The tip of his tongue teases around your entrance and he catches your leg as your foot rises off the bed, slinging it over his shoulder and consuming you more fervently until you have no choice but to moan though you’ve never been one for theatrics. Nobody has done this for you like he’s doing it for you. Locks of hair fall in front of his face and you hold them back for him, shuddering as he shifts his weight and presses the tip of his finger to your cunt.

“Ah—please,” you manage, your first words since he started. Spencer groans against you and the sound is so wonderfully unexpected, so much better than in your dreams. You cant your hips up in further invitation, chirping as he takes it, pushing two fingers into you at once. Your eyes screw shut and you bite back a whine at the slight stretch, unconsciously writhing your hips either to get further away or take him deeper, you’re not sure.

Spencer pulls back, kissing your hips and thighs and pumping his fingers very slowly as you adjust.

“’M sorry,” you pant, “it’s been awhile, I...”

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says like it’s simple, his own breath coming quicker. “How’re you feeling? Need me to stop?”

“No! No, it feels really good, I feel good.”

He holds your burning gaze, matching it with his own, and his hair is tousled and his cheeks are flushed as he continues to move his hand.

“Yeah?”

“...Yeah.”

This little show of obedience, of call and response, has him smiling before he occupies his mouth with something else once more. It’s a different smile than you’re used to from him, but you decide you don’t at all mind it.

Like that, with his tongue and fingers working tirelessly, your orgasm comes on quickly. The feeling is rare but not entirely foreign, and in that brief moment of utter disconnect between your brain and reality, of sheer white-hot pleasure, you don’t feel you’re missing out on anything at all. How could you be, when you are here and Spencer is here and for a moment all your neurons are lighting up and flashing neon? How could there be anything more to life than the searing feeling of him slowly withdrawing his fingers from you, than your hips between his hands like he’s cradling the world, and his lips, indiscriminate with where they kiss because every part of you is worthy of attention?

You’re reeling, and your legs are gelatinous as he so affectionately sucks the darkest mark yet onto your inner thigh like a parting gift, like he’s signing his trembling work. If you could clamp your legs shut around the almost painful aftershocks you would, but he’s climbing back up your body, so all you can do is wriggle against him and release delayed, stunted little moans. He stops to kiss your neck before he makes it to your mouth and drinks down all your sounds until you’re gentle and pliant for him like you haven’t been yet.

His voice is soft and sympathetic when he speaks. “Better?”

Wordlessly you nod, both comforted and unsettled by how well he knows you. What, exactly, has been made better, you’re not sure. Not trust. You don’t trust him anymore. Something cheaper, but temporarily effective. A sense of permanence, maybe, however fleeting it may be. You’ve completed something with him now, and he’s still here, still sweet.

He looks into your eyes, then, for a moment—and there is just enough light in the room for you to tell yourself that the shadows dancing there as he looks at you are love.

They morph as you watch into haunting, wild hunger. Pained even now.

He sits up abruptly and so do you, scooting back against your headboard and pulling your knees to your chest to protect your pounding heart as Spencer takes you in with darting eyes and quick breaths. His fingers find the collar of his shirt and he begins to unbutton.

“I need you to remember it’s all going to heal.”

He swallows, and you hardly have the wherewithal to study the way he unbuttons his shirt, a way he exists in the world that you had previously not been privy to. The words are too distracting.

“What?”

Sometimes he reminds you of a deer, with those big brown eyes that can’t help betraying anxiety. Moreso in those old pictures he’d shown you from his early days at the BAU—but it shines through occasionally even now. It’s reassuring to know that something inside of his has remained soft.

“Just...” his fingers don’t stop at their task, and you come to the disturbing realization that his knuckles are bruised. “Please don’t freak out, alright?”

Your mouth goes dry, eyes glued to the lengthening span of revealed skin.

And before he even has his shirt fully undone, something isn’t right.

He’s like a Pollack of bruises—starbursts and watercolor blots of discoloration blooming over his side and stomach.

You’re glad the light is off for two reasons: one, being that you don’t think you could handle the bruising in all its glory, and two, you hope the look of horror painted on your face is at least partially obscured from Spencer.

But you can’t. You simply don’t have the gas in the tank to freak out, as he’d said—at least not externally. Those bruises shouldn’t be there, but 96 days is a long time to be gone.

You drag your eyes back to his—nervous, deeply insecure and mistrustful. A deer. Just like those pictures of a 24 year old Spencer in an FBI jacket that was too big for him.

It’s enough to have you scooting on your knees across the mattress to him. Those big eyes stay glued to you as you draw near, falling as you carefully push open his shirt, cautious not to bump any tender spots as it falls to the bed. A flash of white gauze wrapped around his forearm that makes your stomach flip. How? You want to ask. Why?

He doesn’t seem to know what you’re going to do, and neither do you, until you’re grabbing his hands, bruised knuckles and all, and just... holding them for a minute.

“I lost weight,” he says quietly, as if that’s the most shocking thing about his current appearance, though it is noticeable.

“You’re still pretty.”

He smiles at this—a true Spencer Reid smile. Flattened lips, eyes tinged silver with sadness, voice quiet and anxious and wavering.

“I didn’t have a lot to spare.”

A moment goes by.

“I’m not going to ask you about them,” you promise, though you care so much and you want to know but you already understand that he won’t want to tell you.

Another moment. It doesn't surprise you to watch the shiny vulnerability in his eyes to freeze over completely. But he squeezes your hands once in thanks, and you know it’s still the same Spencer.

“Lie down.”

Oh. Right.

This.

You do as he says, taking a deep breath to try and exhale the concern twisting your stomach like a poison. Somehow your room feels so unfamiliar, so new with him in it. Even the whorls on your ceiling look different as you study them, trying to time the pattern of your breathing with the pattern of the paint and plaster and not let the sound of Spencer further undressing quicken your heartrate too much.

Soon he’s coaxing your legs apart again, reverently, and kneeling between them, studying every part of you—lingering not on the parts you’d expect. He traces the scar on your knee with his thumb, follows a line down your thigh to the freckle on your hip. The scrutiny is unnerving and warms you everywhere. Perhaps he senses the microscopic clench of your thighs as you imagine pushing them together, if he weren’t in the way.

“You alright?” He asks, still stroking your hip. Tender again. It’s so hard to keep up.

“I...”

Suddenly your heart beat is a deafening echo in your own ears. The tide of your breathing is too powerful, too in and out and whooshing, leaving you always too empty or too full but never comfortable.

Maybe he’s changed, and he’s harder to know now, but he is the same Spencer. He is the Spencer you’d fallen in love with. The hard part is knowing that now you may never get a chance to tell him that. You don’t know if he’d be able to hear it.

There are things you can’t have with him anymore. Not now, at least. Maybe not ever. But you can have this. It will be different, but you’d rather him be different and here than the same and only in your memory.

You swallow.

“I’m good.”

Tangling your hand in his hair once more, you pull him down into a kiss. It’s hesitant, at first—maybe he can taste your thoughts, where they’d been balancing just on the tip of your tongue. But the uncertainty fades and he kisses you deeper, harder, in a way that is hard to keep up with. You like the messy overwhelm of his lips, teeth, tongue. That’s the only way he knows how to want you.

When you go to wrap your leg around his waist he catches it, running his hands over the soft plush of your thigh. The hard line of him presses against you like memory foam and you gasp and he breathes it in deeply as your brain short-circuits, as you realize this is really going to happen, that you’re going to have him like you’ve never had him before and in ways you’ve only imagined and immediately felt ashamed for.

“Spencer,” you whisper. He ducks to leave open-mouthed kisses along your neck and your eyes flutter shut, craning your neck but not losing sight of your objective as you reach down blindly. When you find what you’re looking for he freezes, groans against your neck at the same time as you breathe the tiniest whimper. Just in your hand he feels impossible, hot and imposing and hard. Your heart palpitates.

Without thinking, you angle your hips up and encourage him closer, until the tip of him is smearing through your folds, and you both go utterly silent like the breath had been stolen right from your lungs. The moment crystallizes, time around you hardening like preserved amber to keep you frozen there forever.

And then he rolls his hips, catching the underside of his cock on the crux of you, and then he does it again, and you choke out a moan and so does he, and it’s beyond perfect—it's nirvana, more than you could ever have conceived of, with his weight pressing you into the mattress, arms caging you in, his heavy breaths hot against your neck and vice versa as you twine together like serpents on a rod, your foot floating in the air as you widen your legs to make more room for him.

And you’re not even fucking yet.

“Oh my god,” you whine, just for him, barely audible under the heavy cloak of night, the thickened air in your bedroom and the sound of panting and fabric shifting. It’s like your heart is trying to reach through your chest to his own where they’re pressed together—that is how hard it’s beating.

Spencer only breathes a long, low curse and shifts so he can grasp himself. Your fingers drift down the shaft of him as he slots himself at your entrance, notching half an inch in and you hold your breath, and you brace yourself—and then he’s kissing you again, but gentler this time. Reassuring. You soften, you can’t not, releasing all your air in a soft gust through your nose, and then he’s pushing in.

Your lips part at the stretch as it fuzzes your mind, but he stays right there, nose pressed to your nose, lips ghosting over your own. He’s not going anywhere, you think, and you’re glad for it, when it burns ever so slightly, and the tiniest whine escapes your open mouth.

“Shh,” he soothes immediately, low and soft, only fractionally louder than you had been. “You’re okay.”

Spencer. Your Spencer.

For a moment, you’re living in that alternate universe. The kinder one. The flash of pain you feel then has nothing to do with the way he’s opening you up.

This is the closest you have ever been, and in some strange way, the furthest apart.

Together, fingers brushing, you guide him until he settles at not quite your deepest point. You can feel that he’s not giving you everything yet, but you’re okay with that, as you adjust to the full feeling. Spencer again senses your desire to close your legs against the deep intrusion, and gives you the best he can by encouraging you to wrap your legs around him.

“Good girl,” he whispers tenderly, nudging at your jaw with his nose and dragging kisses along the ridge of it. Your stomach flips at the moniker and your brain turns to warm sludge as your eyes flutter shut. It makes you feel all light-headed and you flutter around him. Spencer chuckles into the junction of your neck and shoulder and the vibrations send a chill down your arching spine. “I thought you might like that one.”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm. How are you? You okay?”

“’M ready.”

“You’re ready?” His tone is dripping sarcasm and faux-disbelief as he pulls back the slightest bit only to push right back in deeper, this time. Your toes curl, one thigh sliding higher up his waist as you cling to him.

“Fuck,” you manage, a pitiful, high pitched curse tossed to the wind. He echoes the sentiment.

“Oh, my god,” he groans, continuing with that slow pace, “you feel so good, angel.”

You grapple at his back, searching for purchase as your brow knits. “Faster.”

This inspires another breathy chuckle, but he obliges, and you cry out softly. It’s almost unreal, your head buried against his neck, drunk on his scent and the drag of him like a shock felt in the far reaches of your body, again and again.

There’s nothing you can say that will accurately demonstrate what you’re feeling, so you elect not to speak, to remain silent and try to get a grip on this cacophony of sensation and emotion. But it’s too much to be alone with. You feel you have to get it out, to seek understanding. You can’t do it alone.

“Spencer.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know...” the sentence trails off into a gentle keen. He moves to kiss you, speaking against your lips.

“You don’t know?”

Shyly you shake your head. Spencer sighs wistfully.

“Do you know how much I missed you?”

It’s like he can sense your need for comfort. For something grounding.

And while this topic was off-limits earlier—you're softer now. The stone walls that form your boundaries have been chipped away and lowered.

Spencer continues unprompted.

“I thought about you every day. Every night while I was falling asleep. You were always on my mind, angel girl.”

You whine. Whether it’s pleasure or distress is anyone’s guess—including your own.

“You were gone so long,” you whisper, eyes shut.

At this, Spencer slows again, and the tension that was building settles back to a simmer.

“I know. I wish I could—I wish I could change that. But I’m here, okay? I’m right here with you.”

Then he makes sure you feel every last inch, and it takes your breath away. If your thoughts were any more coherent, they’d be something along the lines of: but for how long? How long until you leave again?

“You’re here.”

You say it like a mantra, once out loud, and then again and again in your head, timed with every clash of your hips. With each repetition he becomes more real. Every little ache, every tingling, head-emptying brush against that most sensitive spot inside proves to you that he could not be any closer. This can’t be faked. It can’t be another dream to wake up in tears from.

“You’re here,” you gasp as it hits you, as it truly sinks in.

“I’m here,” he breathes.

There’s so much you want to say—three months of words you need him to hear, of things you need to talk to him about, things you need to yell at him for and things you can only say crying in his arms and things you can only say laughing or whispering or drunk or half-asleep—and in this moment you can’t manage any of it. Every word condenses into one drop of salt water, drifting away from your eye and down your cheek. Spencer doesn’t tell you to stop crying. He only kisses the tear away, and murmurs I’m here I’m here I’m here over and over again against your skin until he’s not even speaking it out loud anymore. But you feel it. With every brush of his lips, every breath, every movement, you feel it.

Soon he’s adjusting his angle, gradually picking up the pace but retaining that unforgiving depth, and your nails bite into the skin of his back as your jaw drops. Spencer hisses, pressing impossibly closer.

“I’m sorry!” you squeak.

“Do it again.”

“Wh—what?”

“Please,” he begs, low and hot against your jaw, just beneath your ear. “Do it again, honey.”

Honey.

You’d do anything for him if it meant he calls you that again.

When he shifts his weight to one arm and reaches down between your bodies to play with your aching clit in exactly the right way, you don’t really have a choice. You arch and moan wantonly enough to feel embarrassed as your nails scratch down his back. At the same time he’s making noises of his own, and you almost feel guilty for marking him up like this only you think he likes it. The most perfect and troubling tension is building in your core, so taut you almost fear the inevitable rebound when it snaps. But you’re driven to be exactly what Spencer needs right now, and to let him try and be what you need. Even if it scares you. Even if you’re not sure how.

Spencer groans, head tucked to the bend of your shoulder. “I’m not gonna last.”

Any response you might’ve been about to muster is annihilated by a sudden, deep bolt of pleasure.

“’M gonna cum,” you mewl like it’s a secret.

“Are you?” he asks, coming up breathless. If your eyes were open, you’re sure you’d see him above you.

“Mhm.”

“Look at me. Look at me.”

It is unmistakably a command—one you fight to follow.

You cry out as you meet the intensity of his gaze, those shadowy corridors suddenly ablaze and alive. They are not unending, like you’d thought. They are a door thrown open to let the light in, or maybe to let the fire out. They’re open in this moment for you.

No more words are spoken after that—you cum hard, gasping as you fall and spin. Spencer follows very shortly after, like he was holding it together just for you, and your eyes are still locked though everything is a bit bleary.

“Fuck,” you whine as he continues to fuck you for as long as he can, despite your writhing hips, but you’re entranced by him, unable to look away now that you’re hooked. Until he slows to a halt, glances down at your mouth, and you just have time to pray that he’ll kiss you before he does. You whimper against his lips—a plea for understanding. A plea for him to stay, even though this is over. He kisses back so soft and sweet it’s like he can read your mind. Echoes of I’m here I’m here I’m here still buzz across your skin. His eyelashes tickle your cheek. Your heart stops beating quite so quickly, melting and warm like the rest of your body.

Soon the kissing ceases and you’re just breathing together, trapped and faced with the knowledge that it must end just the same as you had waited for it to start.

Eventually the air between you becomes mostly carbon dioxide and you let your head fall to the side, dizzy and giggling breathlessly as you nearly avoid asphyxiation. Spencer laughs too, letting his head fall to your shoulder once more, and you finally let your eyes flutter closed. To do something as simple as laugh with him again is its own small euphoria. It’s unexpected, and a soft landing once all that tension breaks underneath your combined weight.

It can’t last forever, you know that well. But the slow fade of it makes the next parts a little easier.

Spencer presses a kiss to your neck. “Is your bathroom through that door?”

You hum a confirmation and are only slightly disheartened when he pulls out and rolls off of you. You’re further disturbed when you see there’s gauze around his thigh, matching what’s around his arm, and you wonder how you missed that. Spencer scoops up his clothing and disappears into the adjoining restroom, assuring you he’ll be right back and leaving you alone with your thoughts and the whorls on the ceiling which have seemingly shifted into entirely new constellations.

He leaves the door cracked which is oddly reassuring—the sliver of warm light and the sound of the sink running. Only a few moments pass before he’s returning clad in boxers once more to sit on the edge of the bed, pushing away the sheet you’d just pulled over your chest and pulling one of your legs over his lap. Your face warms as he brings a washcloth between your thighs. As soon as he glances up at you and catches your eye you’re looking back to the ceiling.

“I should’ve asked first,” he says quietly as he cleans up the mess he’d made of you.

You speak just as softly, like you’re both afraid of disturbing some peace, of waking some sleeping giant. “It’s okay. I would’ve told you if I didn’t want it.”

His reticence, his unreadable face, make you nervous.

When he’s done, he rises to toss the dirtied cloth in the laundry bin, and with his back to you (as scratched up as it might be) you feel braver.

“Are you gonna, like... hate me now?”

It was a mistake. That’s clear by the way he turns around, brow knit deeply and grimacing slightly like even the suggestion offends him.

“Am I going to hate you?”

Again you pull the sheet up, and again you look away, studying the pattern of moonlight stretching out over the floor and scooting to make room for him when he steps in it.

“Not hate, I just...” the bed dips beside you and you are indescribably glad he’s not immediately running out the door. “I’m not dumb. I know what this was.”

He pulls you into him and you settle against his chest. It feels good. “I never thought you were dumb.”

This is your first real conversation since he’s gotten back, you realize. And how quickly you’re falling into familiar patterns, familiar syntactical beats. You know when to speak. You know when to bite your tongue and keep him talking.

The silence goes on longer than you’re used to. Maybe he got good at not speaking while he was away.

Eventually your eyes wander, falling to the white strip over his thigh where it is parallel to yours on the bed, only over the sheets.

“What happened?”

You said you wouldn’t ask, but that was then, and you’re upset again. You almost want to hurt him. To piss him off. You don’t know.

But it doesn’t work.

“Do you really want to know?” There’s a note of something heavy in his voice, and you look up at him. It’s a privilege to have him this close—his beauty is a constant surprise that you’d become unaccustomed to over the months. You say nothing, and he takes that as the yes that it is. “I... I did it to myself.”

He may as well have reached down your throat and grabbed for fucking heart for all its clenching. Tears well almost immediately, though they’ve been waiting in the wings all night.

“What? Did you—were you trying to—”

His eyes widen.

“No! No, honey, no.” You wilt as he gathers you closer, a deeply confused frown still contorting your features, too heartbroken even to cling to him, or to appreciate the ease with which honey slips past his lips again. “No. I was—it's complicated. I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to hurt myself, but I had to—I had to do it before someone else did something worse.”

The bruises covering his abdomen.

You sniffle and pull back enough to look up at him tearfully. “Why would they want to hurt you?”

Mist fills his eyes even as he’s looking down at you, a layer of separation, as if he’s two places at once. Even as he goes to brush your hair behind your ear, to stroke your cheek.

“I’m... not... the same, as I was.” It’s not an answer to your question—but it’s the beginning of the answer to a question you’d been too afraid to put into words.

“Don’t say that,” you beg, because you know where this is going. He keeps smoothing your hair like it’ll make this easier.

“But it’s true,” Spencer says gently, the slightest waver betraying his own emotion.

“You’re just going to leave again.”

And you’re losing to the tears.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will,” you insist, like a child crying to a parent come to comfort them after a bad dream.

“Not right now. Right now I’m here.”

I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.

For now, maybe that has to be enough. 

You cry on his shoulder. He kisses your head and doesn’t tell you to stop. 

Eventually, you sniff and wipe your eyes. 

“We were so close. Before you… we were almost there.”

You’re sure of it. You’re sure that if he hadn’t gone when he did you would’ve been a real couple. You would’ve told him you loved him. 

“We’ll get there again,” he promises, rubbing your arm. “I just… I need a little bit of time. I think you do too. But we’re going to get there again.”

Maybe it will never be like it was. 

But as so often is the case—Spencer is right. Difference doesn’t mean it won’t ever be good again. 

You have to believe that, just as you had to believe you’d see him again. 

You look to The Odyssey on your bedside table. 

The sun has been obliterated from the sky, and an unlucky darkness invades the world. 

But the sun has a habit of rising, time and time again, after the longest nights, after the darkest storms. 

You feel the beginnings of its rise, see the golden tips of it lighting the room as he holds you. Even now. 

[veritasangel]

Fave thing to do with you

ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Megumi, Choso

⋆ ˚｡⋆ any pov ୨୧˚ warnings: none, slight mention of drinking in choso's

↣ this was kinda rushed so i'll probably edit it more tomorrow

wc: 1.k

Nanami Kento - cooking with you

Nanami loves doing domestic things with you.

It’s a constant reminder that you’re his partner and he’s just so thankful to do mundane things with you, like chores.

Cooking’s a little better though because you both get to enjoy tasty food together afterwards.

There’s something so peaceful to Nanami about cooking together. He’s got something on the stove whilst you chop vegetables, humming happily to yourself as some music plays in the background. He’s grateful to come home to you after work, enjoys the simplicity of spending time together like this

“I said stop-“ you laugh as he approaches you, “C’mere you got sauce on your face.” He laughs as he approaches you with some kitchen towel.

“I got sauce on my face because you let it splutter everywhere.” You finally compose yourself enough to let him tenderly wipe your cheek.

“Well if you had put the lid on the pot like I asked, it wouldn’t have spluttered anywhere.” He sighs, shaking his head as he looks down at you, pulling you in for a brief hug and a kiss before returning to chef mode and judging your cutting skills on the veg with a smile on his face.

Fushiguro Megumi - reading together

You love reading, he loves reading so why not do it together?

He likes that even though you’re reading different things, you can still chill together silently.

Quality time is his love language and so laying on his bed with you as you both enjoy your hobbies is enjoyable

Some might argue it’s antisocial but you guys don’t agree. There’s nothing more  relaxing than feeling no pressure to talk with someone, just enjoying the comfortable silence between you both as you both read away. The lingering touches every now and then reminding you of the other’s presence.

You’re laying on his bed as he threads a hand through your hair, only occasionally stopping to flip the page as he holds the book with one hand. You’re lying down in between his legs, head on his chest as you read your own book.

“You comfortable, sweetheart?” he asks, looking away from his book momentarily to glance at you.

“Mhm, are you?” you mumble, looking up at him as he smiles and nods, kissing your forehead tenderly before the two of you return to your books.

Gojo Satoru - snuggling with you as he sleeps

Such a busy life that when he sleeps, he sleeps.

It’s one of his favourite things in life, after you of course and so snuggling in bed with you is perfect for him.

Will sleep for so long if you’re in his arms.

He will honestly fall asleep anywhere, especially with you. You’ll be chilling together and the moment your hand runs through his hair, he’s out. And once he’s asleep, you’re stuck because he refuses to let you leave his arms until he’s well rested. He just adores being so close to you in such a relaxed and peaceful state.

“Mhm, stop moving.” he mumbles, voice low from sleep.

“It’s like four in the afternoon toru, we have stuff to do, we can’t just be napping like this.” you laugh as he pouts up at you.

“Can’t we just reschedule our plans?” he grins, chin resting on your chest.

“We already did that yesterday.”

“I guess we did, oh well, one more day won’t hurt them.” he smirks mischievously as he snuggles up further into you, already drifting back to sleep.

Suguru Geto - taking you on motorbike rides

There’s something about seeing you on his bike that he loves

Maybe it’s a possessive thing but loves when you cling onto him during rides, especially if you’ve only ever been on one with him.

It’s been his safe place to just go on these rides and clear his head so he loves sharing that with you now.

He’s very passionate about his bike so he was definitely over the moon when you showed an interest. Tells you everything about the design and the model and can’t wait to get you on it. Spends forever convincing you to, selling it as hard as he can.

And when you finally join him, he’s obsessed with the sight. Takes a billion pictures of you with your helmet on as you sit on his bike.

“You look good like this.” he grins, pressing his helmet to yours.

“So not normally?”

“Of course you do, idiot, it’s just different- makes me feel more possessive of you, actually.” he teases as he leans against the bike, looking down at you, “Soo, you up for a late night ride again tonight?”

Kamo Choso - going to concerts with you

I reckon you both met at a concert so now he just has a soft spot for them.

Gets to enjoy his favourite music with his favourite person.

And you’re all dressed up, looking pretty so it’s a nice bonus for him.

Similar to Megumi, he enjoys when the two of you can both appreciate something together without necessarily talking. He sings along to the music with you as you both sway to the beat.

A hand around your waist practically all night so he doesn’t lose you to the crowd, because god knows that’s happened before and he freaked out for a good 10 minutes before you returned with drinks in hand. (you got a lecture that night)

“I can’t hear you, what did you say!” you have to shout slightly to be heard over the speakers as you turn around and look up at him.

“I said that you look good under these lights.” he says, gesturing to the twinkling overhead lights.  

And you can’t help but grin as you look up at him, “And you look hot, Cho!” you call out and he has to steady you slightly because he knows you’re already tipsy, shaking his head with a knowing smile.

༄ m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[strictlyfavorites]

George Carlin's wife died early in 2008 and George followed her, dying in July 2008. It is ironic George Carlin - comedian of the 70's and 80's - could write something so very eloquent and so very appropriate.

An observation by George Carlin:

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships.

These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

And always remember, life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by those moments that take our breath away.

George Carlin

[alexsoenomel]

Being loved by Dean Winchester would include: (you being not so clueless edition)

Note: I'm currently kinda heartbroken over someone I've never dated (we were best friends) so I added some cute things he used to do before everything went to shit. I think I'll love him forever, he's not good for me and yet I still love him.

You noticing Dean checking you out from time to time and feeling your cheeks burn.

Whenever you had a day off he wanted to hang out, and even if you didn't feel like hanging out with anybody, you always did because you loved spending time with him.

If you were in your room he would always come to checkup on you, his head would peek out awkwardly before he would open the door fully to come in.

Every time you made pancakes he would tell you he loved you before stuffing his pie hole.

Sometimes he loved making you food if you were too tired.

Feeling the energy change between you two. The pure, authentic connection just kept getting stronger.

He loved sharing his food with you.

One day you noticed the way he would just stare at you whenever you had a silent moment. The eyes never lie, especially his.

Sometimes you would finish each other sentences.

You loved the fact you both had the same music taste and you especially loved the way he admired your knowledge of music and art.

You loved the fact that he would let you in on his thoughts and feelings. He wasn't afraid to be vulnerable with you.

You saw how much he really trusted you which was a big thing considering he had trust issues and was known to hide things from Sam.

He would let you choose songs while you were on the road and he would never protest.

You both had the same lame dad humour and loved telling eachother jokes.

You would sometimes talk about stupid shit like different kinds of farts at 5 in the morning because you both had trouble sleeping.

Addictive laughs. If one was laughing the other one would follow.

You both loved annoying Sam with stupid jokes and puns.

Him teasing you about your past flings and relationships. Sometimes he would bring them up so much you had to tell him to shut up. You had a feeling he was secretly jealous.

Him trusting you with Baby was when you started realizing.

Being overprotective and always making sure you were safe and comfortable no matter what made you blush.

Spending more and more time together alone and Sam being more than happy to NOT tag along.

Watching movies in your room and you resting your head on his shoulder.

Drinking together and somehow always ending up talking about past flings and sex.

You slowly falling for him.

One day you finally decided to break the ice and kiss him good night after a successful hunt.

He kissed you back and finally everything made sense.

"You're more than obvious." You told him.

"And you're so clueless sometimes."

[ssahotchnerr]

girl dad aaron AMUSEMENT PARK EDITION!!!!!!!

he would spend all his money at the ring toss just to get his girl the prize she wants. he would hold her hand on the swings. he would give into her begging to go on the big drop ride. he would ride in her bumper car, whispering, “c’mon. let’s bump into mommy. it’ll be funny.” he would make sure to smear her in sunscreen. he would let her wear his sunglasses. he would buy her dippin dots and funnel cakes and cotton candy. he would carry her on his shoulders. he would get wet on the water rides with her. he would guarantee they get to sit in the back or front carts (it’s only appropriate to sit in the front on some rides. other rides, it’s only appropriate to sit in the back. he would know which ride requires the back seat and which requires the front because he’s asked around because he wants his girl to have the best experience on the rollercoasters she can.) he would pack so much water to make sure everyone stays hydrated (he’s also got a fanny pack. i don’t make the rules.) he would pose for the cameras with her on the rides (silly faces, bunny ears, kissing her cheek, etc.) and he would obviously buy them and hang them on the fridge until the entire fridge is covered in them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

aw aw awwww are you trying to make me cry?????? 😭💞💞💞

baby girl's his ride buddy of the day 🥹🥹🥹 it works out perfectly too. i feel like aaron's not too keen on rides - he gets nauseous easily and can only take so much 😭 whereas you're still okay - so you'll go on the more extreme rides with jack. as the two of you are doing that, aaron's on the more tame rides with baby girl, or standing on the sidelines with her in his arms, pointing out you and jack on the ride 🥰 and for the kiddie rides that don't fit an adult, jack happily goes on those with her hehe <3333 best big brother

aaron's hand is always in hers, she's in his arms, or in a stroller, just always accounted for. he's terrified she'll somehow wander away (although she knows not to) or he knows how easily someone could come swoop her up and take her far away (mosley lane 😭😭😭😭) and STOP the visual of her on his shoulders, in his sunglasses that are far too big for her, gripping onto his hair or his head as she chatters away - pointing out what she sees, what rides she wants to go on, what snacks smell yummy, or simply talking about anything <3333 sobbing

when it comes to the prizes, aaron's definitely paying way more than what that item probably cost to make, and knows it's 'lowkey' a waste of money 😭 but there's no price when it comes to baby girl's happiness, he'll do whatever it takes 🥰 the smile that forms on her face when she finally gets the plushie she wanted??? priceless and it's a memory they'll both hold onto forever - aaron takes full advantage of those type of memories 🥺

the bumper cars!!!!!!!!!!! the true highlight of the day 😭 aaron's with baby girl, you're with jack. hehe you peer over as aaron's sneakily whispering to her and eyeing the two of you👀, you know what he's scheming and tell jack the very same thing 🤭 "we gotta get dad and your sister". the laughs that erupt from both of them as they bump into each other 😭😭😭😭 it's contagious, you and aaron are equally as giddy and are loving every second of it 🥰 they even both insist on riding multiple times just to crash into each other LOL

and omg aaron's prepared and stacked for every scenario possible. extra clothes, shoes, socks are in the car (for each family member) for after the water rides. he packs dramamine, ibruprofen, bug spray. he also strategically plans out when to eat snacks or food - to prevent upset stomachs after eating and going on rides 🥴 he brings a tonnn of sunscreen and applies frequently. omg the four of you are pulled off to the side, drinking water and taking a break - you unscrew the top of a water bottle for jack, simply turn your head, and are met with aaron's hands on your face - applying sunscreen generously for you too 😭😭😭🫶🏻 he also brought hats for extra coverage - jack has a baseball cap, baby girl has a cute lil bucket hat 🥰

and AWWW the pictures 🥹🥹🥹 aaron's sure to get multiples too - one for the fridge, for baby girl's room (a pic of them on her bedside table 😭😭😭😭 especially useful when she misses him when he's gone on a case and she just wants her daddy🥺) and his office 😭<3333

as the four of you leave the amusement park when night falls, baby girl is absolutely zonked 😭 her face is smushed into aaron's neck, arms around his neck, maybe even drooling a bit, completely out. hehe so aaron veryyyy carefully places her into her carseat as to not wake her up 🥹 ugh she had the best day <333

[jocelynscrazyideas]

dancing in the dark | Jack Hughes x Reader

Inspired by the song dancing in the dark by rhianna

~ memories ~

Summary: jhughes and y/n spend time together at the Michigan home when the rain cuts the power out.

Warnings: language, rain, power outages, drunk, strictly only kisses!

a/n: I met this guy, he def doesn’t like me, but I’m so delulu to the point I think I can change his mind.

💬: smut/nico of Luca Fantilli fic? Maybe an F1 blurb?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jacks shoulder has finally healed. I’ve been having to take care of him for the last week. Quinn and Luke have been out at concerts and Jack and I have been tagging along- but from a walking distance.

The two have been running around like little toddlers, often Jack has chosen to sit around or walk behind them and admire the fun.

The brothers had attended the Zach Bryan concert a few nights ago but I chose to stay home. I love ZB, but hearing people scream at 12:30 am, isn’t my thing.

Rain storms are common in Michigan, and since summer is finally here rain is expected. With my extra free time taht isn’t taken up from jack’s shoulder I have been cleaning.

Deep cleaning is my new favorite hobby. My room is spotless, and Jack’s room is de-cluttered. I’ve known the Hughes since Quinn and I were seven. I’m four days older than Quinn. I use rank everytime the brothers get in arguments, I use my wisdom of a few days to break up the fights they could get into.

~ memory pt.1 ~

About 15 years ago we were at the Toronto home during the summer. I flew up to Canada to spend time with the Hughes, I brought presents for them- being I missed Christmas and all of their birthdays. “Look at the water guns!” Luke screams at me. I drop the water guns and hug Luke.

Luke’s five year old body wraps around me and I find myself laughing. Quinn and I are matching at the age of nine, and Jack was around seven.

Jack picked up a big box that I filled with gift cards, a new mini stick, and a huge water blaster. He opened the box enough to see all of the prizes and he shuts it and sets it down. He hugs my shoulders as he towers over Luke’s body from under me.

Quinn takes me from behind, I remember feeling the warmth of the three boys. I’ve really known them forever, my mom is bestfriends with Ellen, so I’ve just naturally been born into the family.

I felt safe. Ensured and promised a warm, clean and welcoming home with the Hughes.

Quinn opens a box, it’s filled with cards and water guns, there are multiple water balloons. I purposely remember buying that bag full of balloons thinking in Quinn.

~ end of pt.1 ~

“Y/n! How you’ve been?” Jack walks into my room drunk. It’s summer I let him drink his body away.

“Nice beer belly.” I mock him as I get off of my bed and rub the tummy as if I were pregnant.

“Thanks, worked hard for it tonight.” He slurs out. “Jack let’s get you to bed okay?” Rain stars to put onto the house.

I have a balcony in my room. I immediately run over to the glass sliding door to close it. Rain gets in my face as I close the windows and the door in my room. “Nice rain.” Jack mocks me as he walks out of my room.

“Where’s the other two?” I yell out from the top of the stairs, Jack runs into the kitchen- he had ran down the stairs to stop talking to me.

“Jack!” I yell. I give up. So I close my door and run down the stairs. I see Jack in the fridge.

“You hungry? Where is Ellen?” I ask. “I dunno.” I responds. I hold his shoulders as I stand on my tip toes, in peering over his shoulders just enough to see what he’s looking for.

“Yummy in my tummy!” He chants, “Jack.” I massage his shoulders.

I strictly turn his head towards mine. He leans into my chest. He rests his head onto my collar bones as he mumbles a song.

“Come.” I motion his body. We walk to the stairs. I sit him in the first step and I run back to close the fridge and the pantry door he probably rummaged through.

I turn around to look for Jack and he’s disappeared. “Jack?” I look around for him. Lights go off. Thunder claps at me, lighting floods into the sky. “Jack?” I get more nervous.

~ memory pt.2 ~

We head for the hose, I fill up Luke’s nerf water gun and te water balloons. I take my shoes off to run freely around the backyard of the Hughes household. Jim is grilling on the deck outside. Ellen and my mom are talking in the kitchen inside watching us play. Quinn fills his gun up, and I take my gun I already filled from behind my back.

I shoot jack in the eye, Luke and I team up in the other two boys. Their backs facing us as they both re-fill their guns, Luke fires at them. Someone gets hurt.

Ugh.

“Hey!” I yell out over their arguments towards eachother. Quinn yells at them to listen to me. Jim looks over at us to make sure us says something smart and not stupid.

“It’s an accident! Luke and I took our chances, Jack if you’re going to get mad at Luke- you should get mad at me too. I told him to fire.”

And done. Problem solved.

~ end of pt.2 ~

I left my phone upstairs in my room. I don’t have a flashlight. “JACK!” I scream, I can’t see anything. It’s pitch black. I have no sense of human presence in the room. “Jack please, I’m scared.” I whisper as I walk silent towards the living room. I sit on the couch that faces away from the kitchen. The TV glimmers on. “What the fuck.” I whisper.

“Hey.” Jack taps my shoulder. I jump.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU.” I yell at him. Jack laughs. “You wnat some?” He picks up a bottle of alcohol. “Where…” I start. I look over at the pantry I had closed.

The TV light shines and lights up the main floor of the home. Michigan storms terrify me.

The pantry door is open. The Hughes are rich, inside of the pantry full of snacks is a room full of liquor. “How were you so quiet?” I asked Jack.

“I dunno.” He takes his hand and places it onto my hip. He pulls me back to lay down with him. I ask him to dance. Drunk dancing is always the best. “Sure.” He gets up takes my hand and we slow dance to sound of rain.

“Do you have your phone?” I ask him. Jacks hair flips into my face as he looks down into his back pocket of his jeans. He takes it out and plays a random song.

Perfect.

He jump up and down. Side to side swaying, hips are shaking, Jack screams the songs out. He hugs me to stabilize himself. He smells of heavy cologne and beer.

We dance until his legs give out. “I’m tired” he says.

I help jack up the stairs as I hold onto the bottle of liquor he had taken. “Yeah, you’re definitely drunk.” I laugh. As we rest into my bed. “You can sleep in here for tonight okay?” Jack lays on my chest.

I would have gotten weirded out in how close we’ve gotten- especially because Jack and I have had something before, but my mom instincts had came out. I let him lay on me until he almost fell asleep.

I hold him onto of me so he doesn’t fall off my queen sized bed. I slide out under him, i take his shoes off and his hat off. I set them off into a bean bag I’ve had since we were kids. I’ve had this room for years, and I’ve kept it the same.

“I’m not drunk!” He giggles out again. His smile makes my stomach tingle. He keeps himself awake by talking to me.

We had a deep conversation, and he laughed out. “I’m not drunk y/n! We should check!” He laughs.

He holds my jawline. Connecting our lips together. He kisses me as if we were still in our relationship in 2017.

“I love you.” Jack laughs out after pulling away from our kiss.

Quinn walks into the house. “Y/n! Luke and i are home! Where is Jack his shoes aren’t down here!” Quinn yells out from downstairs.

[riki-riks-chick]

Jungwon gets jealous after you spend time with another guy (innocently tho). Y/n is not a cheater. Wonie is just feeling possessive. 🙃

Trading Times ┃Y.JW

jealous!jungwon x reader

jungwon gets jealous bc yn is hanging out with her childhood best friend.

fluff! jealous jw, best friend jay, no cheater behavior, yn is whipped for jw, kisses, jw doesn't know how special he is to yn.

wdct: 1.6k

tyy for this request ♡

═════════════

Third Person POV~

"Hey, Y/n... Do you maybe wanna hang out later?.." Jungwon asks, wrapping his arms around you as you finish up washing the dishes. "Sorry, baby.. Jay is back in town for the week so he asked me to hang out with him so we could catch up." You respond as he pouts. "Then tomorrow?.."

You sigh, turning off the tap and drying your hands before turning to face Jungwon. "Tomorrow I'm supposed to go visit his mom. I haven't seen her in three years... I promise we'll hang out the day after." You answer as he nods. "Okay.. I'll just ask Sunoo if he wants to hang out.."

You smile, giving him a quick kiss. "I have to go get dressed.. Sorry I couldn't go out with you today.." You mumble as he nods. "It's fine.. Have fun."

You then head upstairs, showering, doing your hair, and getting dressed before slipping into your most comfortable sneakers.

After making sure you had everything you needed, you made your way downstairs. Jungwon had just walked out of the kitchen. "You look so pretty, but you're wearing jeans?" He questions, knowing you hate wearing jeans, and you nod. "Yeah, I only wear skirts when I'm out with you.. They're usually pretty short, so I don't wanna risk anyone who isn't you trying to get an eyeful."

He nods at your explanation. "Okay.. Are these at least comfortable for you? They wont feel too tight after you eat?" He asks as you nod. "I'm fine, they're comfortable.. Now I gotta go, bye Jungwon."

You kiss his cheek before grabbing your keys and leaving the house. As soon as he hears the lock click he lets out the biggest sigh.

Within the next thirty minutes, Sunoo comes over and now he's forced to listen to all of Jungwon's complaining.

"Jungwon, it's not that serious.. She's known him since they were in diapers damn near. If they were anything more than friends, you would've never had a chance." Sunoo explains as Jungwon groans. "I'm not that stupid, Sunoo. I know she wouldn't cheat on me.. I'm just jealous because whenever he comes to visit, she gives him all her attention."

Sunoo nods. "I guess so, but you have her attention all the time, right?" He asks and Jungwon sighs. "Who's side are you on?"

Sunoo only laughs in response. "I'm on logic's side, let's just have fun for now."

Meanwhile, you had just met up with Jay at a cafe that you two used to study and hang out at all the time. He's already ordered you a drink, so you sit across from him.

"It's good to see you.." He smiles as you nod. "I know, it always feels like it's been forever. We need to see each other more than once a year."

You two spend time catching up, talking about work and just life in general. Eventually he asks about Jungwon. "So, how's your boyfriend?" He questions as you smile, beaming at the thought alone of Jungwon. "He's great.. I love him so much."

Jay smiles at your happiness. "I have something to tell you." You can tell by his dopey smile that he has good news, so you gesture for him to keep speaking. "I have a girlfriend..."

You light up at the news, reaching over the table to grab his hand excitedly. "Oh my god tell me all about her!"

He tells you everything from how he met her down to how they got together. It's all so endearing to hear since you know how badly his last relationship ended.

After talking for over an hour about life, you both went to an arcade together, playing all the games you used to, except you got to win this time.

When your hangout finally came to an end, you parted your ways, planning to see each other around the same time tomorrow.

You got home at around 5pm, ready to see your boyfriend after thinking about what he was up to all day.

"Jungwon, I'm back." You stepped out of your shoes, setting your keys and your bag down as you walked into the living room.

Sunoo was sitting on the arm chair, and Jungwon was asleep on the couch. Some random movie was playing in the background.

"Hey, Sun." You smile as he waves. "Hey, how was your hang out with Jay?" He asks as you hum. "It was fun. How was your hang out with Jungwon?" You question, moving around the couch to ruffle your sleeping boyfriend's hair.

"It was good, he was complaining for the first hour though." He replied as you nodded. "Sounds about right."

Sunoo decides that he's gonna go home, saying goodbye before leaving. You wake Jungwon up and he's immediately clinging to you. "I missed you.." He pouts, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You chuckle, kissing his temple. "I missed you too.. Let's order something to eat, hm?"

The next day, you're up earlier, because Jay called and said his mom wanted to meet for a late breakfast, early lunch. You agreed simply because you didn't wanna inconvenience his mother.

Jungwon was still sleep when you finished getting ready, so you sat beside him on the bed, shaking him gently. "Jungwon.. Wake up."

He stirs, humming as he wraps his arms around your waist. "Where are you going?.." He mumbles with a pout in his tone. You ruffle his hair. "I'm going to brunch with Jay and his mom.. I'll see you later.."

He nods, kissing your cheek before burying his head into his pillow. You get up, patting his back before leaving.

Your day is spent hanging out with Jay, and catching up with his mother. She tells you about how happy she is that her son is finally in a new relationship, and how she hopes this one ends in marriage.

You're happy to see Jay beaming whenever he talks about his girlfriend, similar to the way he watches you smile whenever you talk about Jungwon.

You end up spending much more time than usual hanging out with Jay, and when you finally get home, it's around 8pm.

You look for Jungwon, not finding him in the kitchen, or the living room.

You know he usually doesn't sleep this early, but you check the bedroom anyway, and surely there's a Jungwon shaped lump beneath your covers.

You kick off your shoes, dropping your jacket somewhere along the way as you climb onto the bed, pulling the covers off of his head. "I'm back, baby.." You leaned down to kiss his cheek, pushing his hair out of his face.

He didn't seem too thrilled to see you. "Wonnie.. What's wrong?" You question as he sighs. "You've been gone all day... I've just been here by myself.. All the while you're hanging out with Jay.." He pouts, turning over to look at you. You frown, leaning against the headboard. "Jungwon.. You know it's not like that.. It's been almost a year since I last saw him.. We just wanted to catch up.." You explained for what seemed like the thousandth time since you first introduced Jungwon to Jay.

He had always gotten jealous, but you thought things were different now. You'd been with Jungwon for almost three years now after all. It seems that he still isn't too fond of your relationship with Jay.

"I just.. I wish I knew you like he did.. He's known you since you were a kid... He has so many memories to share with you, and I hardly just found out that you used to dream of being a famous pianist when you were a kid.. I know I shouldn't, but I get jealous.." He explains, avoiding your eyes as you take his hands in yours.

"I understand.. I know Jay and I are close, but I promise you.. You know me in ways Jay couldn't even imagine.. You know how I kiss, my love language, the playlist I listen to when I shower, and even every step of my skincare routine in order.. You're my boyfriend.. Jay could never beat that.." Jungwon sits up, smiling at your words as he hugs you. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to make you feel bad about it.." He mumbles in your ear, pulling back to kiss your forehead.

You smile brightly at him. "It's okay to be jealous.. I can't imagine how you must feel seeing your girlfriend be close to another guy.. I'm glad that you trust me though.."

He nods, pinching your cheek. "I try not to be to controlling.. Otherwise you would leave me for someone else.."

You chuckle in response. "You know what, next time he said he'd bring his girlfriend so I could meet her.. I'll bring you too and we could have a double date.." You say excitedly as Jungwon nods, planting a sweet kiss to your lips.

"That sounds great, baby.."

═════════════

[thelasthippie]

George Carlin could be remebered as an actor who lived the hippie era. I don't know exactly his background, but this words he said are enough for the respect. ☮️✌️ judge yourselves :

(Text below)

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships.

These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

And always remember, life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by those moments that take our breath away.

[piratefishmama]

Fake it Till you Make It | Part 13

“Buckley residence”

“Melissa, my second favourite Buckley! Hi, it’s Steve, is Robin there?”

“Oh Steve! Yes, yes one moment, I’ll just—weren’t you on holiday with your parents aaaand—?” he’d been calling Eddie his ‘partner’ for the week leading up to the big holiday. Never dropping any names, but given he’d found a sort of second home at the Buckleys… they were relentless in finding out who he was dating.

Since it’d never be Robin.

He wasn’t falling for it, no matter how deep they’d been into flower power back in the day. If he came out, Robin would end up coming out in solidarity and he knew she wasn’t ready yet so—“Yep, calling from Chicago airport, bit of a time sensitive call” he wasn’t giving it up.

“Oop, I’ll grab her—” there was a scuffle on the line then a quick “ROBIN, STEVE’S ON THE PHONE” another quick scuffle later and suddenly

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane right now, Dingus?”

“I’m in Chicago! Just checkin in on my baaaaaby, how’s my little bun today? Any morning sickness yet?”

“Robin!!”

“Mom get off the phone!!”

“Hahaha I’m kidding Melissa! Can I talk to Robbie alone though?”

“Unbelievable, you kids are turning me grey.”

“You’re as beautiful as ever though!” The other line clicked off, and Robin’s snickering laughter was all that remained. “One day she’s gonna stay on just to call my bluff.”

“But that is not today, again, aren’t you supposed to be on a plane? What’s up?”

“…Okay so, hypothetically, if you were fake dating someone you… I dunno… maybe, sorta… click really well with, can laugh with, and maybe sorta like a little, would you—”

“Steven Leopold Harrington do you have a crush on your boyfriend?”

“Fake, fake boyfriend, Robbie, fake. And that isn’t my middle name.”

“You’re not DENYING it! It's not even been a DAY yet, Steve!”

“No, I’m not—well… I’d call it more an interest than a crush, but that’s why I’m calling you, what would you do?”

“Pine uselessly for years, you know this.”

“Got it, pine uselessly” He could do that. He was doing that already, sort of. He’d watched in squinty eyed rage while a newsstand cashier with a nose ring flirted with his fake boyfriend while he grabbed a drink to down during the wait between flights. It didn’t go anywhere, Eddie barely even noticed, but Steve noticed. Steve noticed everything. “You really should ask Vi—”

“NO. Listen Steve, as the kids would say, you have found an ‘ultimate cheat code’ to asking your crush out, listen closely now, don’t want you to miss it… you’re already dating him!”

“It’s fake though!” Luckily his parents were off showing Eddie a cool mural they found last time they flew through. No chance of them hearing him.

“So?! Just act like it’s real! It’s like a test, you have a week to see if you’re actually growing ooey gooeys for this guy, and at the end of it, you’ll know if you wanna keep him.” Brilliant in theory but one small hiccup

“What if he doesn’t want me at the end of the week?” The fact that he hadn’t had a solid date in forever before the scheme looming over his head and heart like a dark cloud of suffering.

“I will eat my own shoe. Trust me dingus, trust me. He’ll want you, just work that mysterious Harrington Charm I’ve heard so much about. You’re already half-way there, you get to kiss him already.”

“…Okay, it’s gotta be the real stinker shoe though, you know the one.”

“The skunk one?!”

“Yep. The skunk one.”

“But we were gonna use that on—” Kevin, they were gonna hide it in Kevin’s office after he refused every holiday request Robin put in for a month after she, very politely, shot him and his advances down, why they still had it was… a mystery. They kept forgetting to get rid of it. “Fine, the skunk one. I will eat the skunk shoe, that is how confident I am that Eddie will want you, now please go and spend time with your way cooler than you boyfriend before your parents turn him into a normie.”

“Miss you already.”

“Miss you more”

“Miss you most.”

“Hang up.”

“No you han—” she hung up, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh about it knowing that undoubtedly. She’d be laughing on her end too.

The second flight was much easier to get Eddie onto. In fact, after they spent the hour between flights milling around the terminal, Eddie led him down the gangway, hand in hand, demanding he hurry up or “they’ll leave without us, my precious little harlot!!” there was no rush, they were actually first in line at the gate in front of his own parents, whom Eddie beat to the front of the queue, dragging Steve with him, still ribbing him for the mile high club thing.

He was not going to live that down any time soon.

The flight, in theory would give him a lot of time to think though. Nine hours. In seats that were too far apart. His parents in the middle of the cabin in a semi-enclosed pod-like structure comprised of two seats and a desk between them which they both shared to work on some paperwork, and he and Eddie on opposite sides of the plane.

Which sucked. Because he couldn’t hold Eddie’s hand.

He couldn’t make sure Eddie was okay, and that alone really dug into his time to think about things, because his brain was quite stuck on the fact that Eddie was alone on the other side of the cabin likely going through it as the second flight excitement could only last so long, and that just wasn’t okay.

Eddie couldn’t even do anything to pass the time, he’d packed all but one of his notebooks in his checked luggage, Steve was pretty damn sure he'd go insane if he had to just sit there with nothing to do for a whole nine hours.

So, they teamed up. From opposite sides of the cabin, because somehow Eddie just understood what Steve wanted him to do without having to be told.

It took them a joint effort all of one hour into the flight to puppy-dog eye his parents into switching seats with them.

This allowed them to pick at each other’s ‘gourmet’ meals, Eddie stealing several of his steak fries, and Steve stealing both the last bite of his steak, and two of his orange slices, it allowed Eddie to ramble on about the D&D campaign he was plotting to send the kids through when they got back, allowed Steve to subtly plant the idea into Eddie's mind that maybe... maybe he might be interested in seeing what that looked like.

Maybe they could hold the first session at his place when his parents went away again. Plenty of room! He could watch for once, instead of ribbing Dustin for it and purposefully never getting the name of the game right.

All leading to them both settling in their reclining seats, wrapped up in blankets, facing each other's smiling faces, and falling into an incredibly easy food-coma slumber for the remainder of their flight.

Both wishing the seats were just... a little closer.

Part 15

[callsigndragon]

Sunshine | Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

(I love this gif so much I'm not even joking)

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Wife!reader

Word count: 1010

Warnings: nothing! Pure, lovely fluff.

This was requested by @bookaholics-stuff. Thank you, honey! This was such a cute request and I just had to write it NOW. Hope you like it!

FOREVER TGM TAGLIST: @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @shrimping-for-all @abaker74

(if you want to be tagged, ask me!)

Mrs. Seresin was the only thing Jake didn't brag about. Don't get me wrong, it's not because he is not proud of you. Quite the opposite. 

He's so damn happy to have you in his life that he wants to treasure you. Keep you to himself. 

And there hasn't been a lot of time to talk about each other's lives during this mission. Phoenix wants to fix this matter, actually, suggesting all the members that a day at the beach could be a good opportunity to get to know each other. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jake had agreed to meet with the rest this Saturday, have something to drink at the Hard Deck, play some Dogfight football… Just a bunch of friends spending a normal day at the beach without having to worry about the safety of the planet. But that plan is thrown out the window when you, Y/n Seresin, the love of Jake’s life, ring the bell of Jake and Javy’s shared house. 

“Sunshine? Oh my god, what are you doing here?” Jake says, while hugging you tightly. It has only been a few weeks since the last time he saw you, but it feels like a lifetime away from you. 

“Heard that my handsome hubby had chalked up another kill, saved the day and also the famous Maverick. I had to come here and celebrate!” you explain, covering his face with kisses, Jake scrunching his nose due to the pure happiness of the moment. 

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush, Mrs. Seresin” 

“Where’s Javy?” you ask, entering the house and leaving your small suitcase in the bedroom. 

“I don’t know, he said he was gonna meet Mickey and Reuben to buy something. Don’t ask me why because I can’t remember” he confesses, laughing. 

“Oh my, Jake Seresin, aren't you a bit young to be forgetting things?” you joke as you lay down on the bed, tired from the flight from Austin. You had been staying with your sister-in-law and her two kids for a few days, not wanting to be alone when you found out how dangerous this mission was going to be.

“It’s your fault. Do I have to remind you how I forgot my own name when I first saw you?” he recalls, sitting in the bed next to you, his hand quickly moving to your hair, and moving some strands out of your face. “You still have that effect on me, Sunshine” 

You smile, satisfaction running through your body as you realize that no matter how much time passes, Jake will always be completely and utterly in love with you. “I saw the beach while in the taxi. This place is amazing, Jake. And you are definitely sunbathing without me, huh? Look at that golden skin” you poke his cheek, making him giggle like a teenager.

Everyone saw Hangman, the aviator. 

But only you were able to see Jake, the loving husband. 

“Want me to take you to the beach, sunshine? We can take a bath and go for a walk.” he offers, kissing your forehead. 

“I’d love to”

-

“Is that woman talking to Hangman?” Phoenix questions out loud while leaving the cooler that Mickey, Reuben and Javy had bought earlier to fill with drinks, in the sand. 

“Maybe he is talking to the poor woman,” Fanboy suggests, moving his sunglasses down his nose to try and understand the whole situation. “Should we go rescue her?” 

“She doesn’t seem uncomfortable, though” Payback adds, the whole squad standing there like a bunch of sentinels, ready to jump into action if the lady needed to be liberated from the blonde cowboy. 

Seconds later, Hangman is throwing the poor girl over his shoulder and walking straight to the water. “Oh god, he’s gonna get smacked,” Bob laughs, opening his blue folding chair and sitting down to enjoy the show. 

“JAKE SERESIN PUT ME DOWN” you yell, trying to leave your husband’s arms, only to be thrown in the water. You stand up, your sundress now completely stuck to your body. Thank god you are wearing your swimsuit underneath. “If I didn’t vow to love you for the rest of my life I would kill you” 

“Did she say ‘vow’ as in ‘wedding vow’?" Rooster asks, looking at the rest of his team. “Man, I don’t understand anything” 

Javy, who had been trying to get the beach umbrella from the trunk after it got stuck, walks happily to the rest, wondering why the heck are they standing there like… well, idiots. “Guys what are you- Y/N SERESIN?” 

���JAVY!” the woman, who now everyone knows it’s a Seresin, runs to Javy, almost tackling him to the ground. "I'm so glad you're okay" 

"What are you guys doing here?" Questions Hangman to the group, joining his wife and his best friend. 

"Dude, beach day. We told you" Fanboy looks at Hangman, wondering if the pilot really had forgotten about it or was just messing with them. 

"Excuse my husband, he's having trouble remembering things lately" you tease him, earning a glare from Jake. 

"Husband" mutters Bob.

"Husband?" asks Phoenix. 

"Husband!" confirms Javy. 

"I'm Y/N. We've been married for three years now. And no, I wasn't forced to marry him, Rooster. I know you were about to say that" you say to Bradley, leaving him shocked. 

"I was gonna ask that, yes. How did you know? And how did you know I was Rooster" 

"Oh, cause I'm good, Rooster. I'm really good" you retort, making Jake laugh. 

"Oh no, there's two of them. We're doomed" Bob says, sitting down again. 

"I'm guessing Javy was the best-man?" Javy nods at Phoenix, answering her question. "Well, Mrs. Seresin, would you like to play some Dogfight football with us?" 

"I don't even know what's that but teach me, and I will play" you say, taking off the sundress and stealing Jake's sunglasses from him. 

He looks at you, wondering what had he done in a past life to be this lucky. Good job, good friends, and the perfect wife. His own personal sunshine. 

[sorchathered]

💕Lover💕

A/N- hey all! This is my submission for @ohtobeleah ‘s Galentine’s party!! I’m so excited to see everyone’s posts and concepts, make sure you check out the submissions under her tag!

Summary- A collection of memories and mood boards documenting you and Jake from engagement to wedding day.

Pairing- Jake Seresin x oc!reader (callsign Storm)

Warnings- language, drinking, smut.

“We can leave the Christmas lights up til January, this our place we make the rules”

It was January 5th now, you knew the chances of Jake being home for Christmas were slim but secretly you’d hoped he would be. He’d begged you not to spend the holiday alone his mother insisting you come to Texas so you’d flown out and spent two fantastic weeks with his family. They had welcomed you with open arms, taking you to all of Jake’s old haunts and involving you in their family traditions. You’d never been close to your parents so the overwhelming love you received from the Seresin family was something you’d never experienced before. You’d gotten to talk to him sporadically over the holiday but you could tell he was heartbroken he couldn’t be there with you. The time went by too fast and before you knew it the 5th had arrived and you were stepping off your plane in San Diego, Coyote was waiting to pick you up and you couldn’t wait to get home to your own bed. You’d put up a small tree with some lights before you left just to keep the seasonal depression at bay, but as you unlocked the door to your shared home you were met with what could only be described as a winter wonderland. The house was covered in lights, decorated ornately with paper snowflakes and there in front of a brand new 8 foot Christmas tree was Jake. He grinned his thousand watt smile at you as you dropped all of your bags and launched yourself into his arms.

“Hey Stormy girl, did ya miss me?”

You let out a watery laugh as you began to sob in earnest, he held you close and pressed kisses into your hair, reassuring you that he was home and this was real. When you finally settled he sat you both down on the couch in front of the massive tree, you were still in shock that not only was he here but he had somehow managed to transform your house into Santa’s workshop.

“What is all this baby?” You whispered against his lips, he’d never been big on Christmas but he knew you loved it so the thoughtfulness and effort put in after a nearly 3 month deployment was not lost on you.

“We didn’t get Christmas together darlin’ and I know being apart has been hard as hell these past few months” he stands up now, walking over to the tree to pick up a small gift you hadn’t even noticed. You gasp as tears well up in your eyes, Jake Seresin is down on one knee surrounded by a literal Christmas wonderland, and he’s about to ask you for forever. “Yes!” You blurt out, causing a belly laugh to erupt from him.

“You didn’t even let me ask sweetheart”

“You can but my answer is still yes, I just want to be yours, forever and ever.”

He closes the distance between you to slide his grandma’s engagement ring on your finger, kissing you in the glow of the twinkle lights.

“My heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue, all's well that ends well to end up with you”

A joint bachelor/bachelorette party at the hard deck, all the boys had suggested strip clubs and hookers but Jake just wanted a night with everyone they loved and to maybe get you a little tipsy so he could proposition you for a hookup in the bathroom. You were dancing with Phoenix and a few of your other girlfriends, dressed in the tiniest white dress with a bedazzled cowboy hat and veil that said bride on the front. He didn’t think he could love you more than this moment; eyes full of joy and singing “Don’t stop believing” at the top of your lungs. He’d even let you convince him to wear the ridiculous groom t shirt you’d gotten him, taking all the jesting in stride even though he secretly loved it. He’d always give you whatever you want.

You were a spitfire when you wanted to be, always first to defend him if some cocky asshole got mouthy, he had been an absolute dick to everyone around him for years but since that first dagger squad mission he’d been trying his damndest to make amends.

That was one of the many ways he’d known you were the one, you’d been dating quietl after you and Rooster’s failed engagement had crashed and burned over a year before. During a particularly stressful training day the two had come to blows, both of them ending up in the infirmary as Rooster continued to pelt insults his way. Jake was trying to take it in stride but your temper could only take so much. You were professional but vicious in your descent on him, refusing to let Bradley Bradshaw and his unresolved emotional baggage dismantle all the work Jake had put in to better himself. You’d been a champion for him no matter what and he wasn’t used to anyone having his back, it took his breath away just how much you believed in him.

Watching you now he felt his heart swell, and he couldn’t sit in his chair any longer; the need to hold you carrying him across the room, spinning you into his arms with ease.

“Hi sugar, think I could steal you away for a few minutes?” He whispered in your ear, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he dipped you to cheers from the crowd. You threw your head back giggling and took his hand to drag him through the throngs of patrons to the quiet hall that held the bathrooms.

You knew what he wanted, he was always looking for an opportunity to get you wrapped around him, often joking he might have a bit of a kink for getting you off in public spaces but really he was just insatiable when it came to you, especially when you were dressed in what he thought may be the world's smallest dress and rubbing your body all over his.

Placing you on the side of the sink he ran his hands over you now, sliding a hand between your parted legs finding you obscenely wet and he chuckled; maybe he wasn’t the only one that got hot and bothered over hooking up where anyone could find you.

You gasped at his touch and pushed your hands into his hair, needing him to kiss you and he was all too willing, tasting your tongue as you moaned into his mouth, the prettiest sound he ever heard. He pulled your tiny scrap of underwear to the side and pressed his fingers into your dripping core, watching you grind down onto his hand, whispering filthy things he knew you’d be mortified if anyone heard and God he lived for it, you were his dirty girl behind closed doors all for him, only he got to see you like this. You were teetering on the edge now, suddenly removing his fingers from you with a smirk as you protested, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and chest heaving while you begged for him to stop teasing and fuck you. He didn’t have to be told twice, letting you wrench his belt buckle open and unzip his jeans in record time, sliding home into your velvet heat, I love yous breathed out into the humid air of the bar bathroom. He chased your mutual highs quickly, knowing eventually someone would come looking for you, desperate cries pouring from your pouty pink lips and coming hard as you pulsed and fluttered around him, both of you bathed in ecstasy in the dim dingy light. As the two of you attempted to become presentable you were startled by the creaking of the bathroom door, Javy poking his head through and shaking his head with a raucous laugh.

“We’ve been taking turns guarding the bathroom, would you two heathens wrap it up? We’ve got celebrating to do!”

You both couldn’t hold in your laughter, they knew you too well, bracing yourselves for the onslaught of teasing for skipping out on your own party to hook up.

Drinks were distributed, a new game of pool was started and as you gazed at Jake across the room you couldn’t help but be proud of who he had become. He was honorable, steadfast and in fact too good to be true. You had both been damaged and jaded from past mistakes and relationships but had somehow healed each other becoming the best version of yourselves. You’d do it all again if it meant you ended up here, with your magnetic force of a man. Loving him was like coming up for air, he was Christmas morning and birthday wishes on lit candles and technicolor fireworks on the Fourth of July. You couldn’t wait to spend forever loving him.

“You’re my, my, my, my Lover.”

As you sat in the dressing room of the venue overlooking the harbor you were brought back to the night of Penny and Maverick’s wedding just a few years ago. You had come back to San Diego for their nuptials still heartbroken from your failed engagement with Bradley. Over the course of the long weekend you had found love again in the form of your best friend, the man you were finally about to marry.

Sometimes it still felt like a dream, you were afraid you would wake up one morning and still be single and heartbroken in your tiny apartment in Pensacola, but fate had stepped in and brought the two of you together. It hadn’t been easy, you were in tears more often than you’d like to admit when you first started dating long distance, and then deployments apart caused even more strain.

When you were finally promoted to Lieutenant Commander 10 months into your budding romance your superior told you there was an opportunity to fly again at top gun but this time with a new crew. So you and your front seater Viper decided to take the leap and head to Fightertown. Jake couldn’t believe it when he had a knock on his door that Sunday night to find you with all your luggage on his front porch, bottle of champagne in hand asking how he felt about a roommate.

It had been two years since then, both the dagger squad and red knights could be seen mingling outside and you felt your heart swell at how lucky you were to be surrounded by so many amazing friends.

Jake was all nerves on the opposite side of the venue, couldn’t seem to keep his hands from shaking as he tried to put his cufflinks on. Javy swatted his hand away and took over, shaking his head and handing Jake his whiskey to finish up.

“What are you so worried about? Stormy’s in dude, you two were made for each other.”

Jake knew he was being ridiculous, his family loved Stormy, all of his friends did too, he just wanted everything to be perfect for her.

“I’m not worried about her leaving me numb nuts, I just want it to be everything she hopes it is, I’ve checked the weather 100 times today and if it rains I swear-“

“Jake, she’s not just excited about the fairy tale wedding; she’s excited to marry you. The rest of it will turn out perfectly because you two will be together, the rest is gravy bud.”

Jake wondered to himself when Javy had gotten so smart, but he had to admit his wingman was right about one thing, being with you forever was the thing that mattered most and Jake couldn’t wait to start it with you.

As you walked down the aisle you could barely hold it together, Jake was already tearing up when you reached him taking his hand in yours it took all the restraint you had to not go ahead and kiss him. It was everything you had ever dreamed of and even if it had just been the two of you and a justice of the peace that would’ve been enough, because the end result was forever with the love of your life. Jake’s brother-in-law, a preacher back in Texas had been asked to be the officiant and when he finally announced you man and wife you couldn’t get to your love fast enough, pressing your lips to his as he made a show of dipping you for the crowd.

Later that evening in the glow of the harbor lights you were swaying to the music with your husband and you couldn’t put into words how perfect this night had been. He pulled your face close to his as he sang along with the band, and you had to kiss him again, it felt like every cell in your body cried out to be loved and touched by Jake Seresin and you knew without a doubt he always would. No matter where the two of you went he would do everything to love and protect you, and you would always do the same. Forever.

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Tagging- @ohtobeleah @bobgasm @attapullman @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @roosterforme @jessicab1991 @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @mygyn @86laura11 @floydsglasses @dempy @nouis-bum @angelbabyyy99 @pinkdaisies9285 @purelyfiction @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @jostan456 @kmc1989 @its-the-pilot @mrsevans90 @sailor-aviator

[sherlockig]

Hello my little grieving friends (aka my CREW!)

I just want to talk about how much our flag means death has given me. I have not had internet friends since i were a teenager. They all kind of disapeared over time in the same way as high school classmates went away. I have been on this blog on tumblr since 2010 and i have never experienced what ofmd has given me. Not even in my very derranged ca 5 year long sherlock-era did i get to befriend and know this many amazing people who live in my phone. Some of you have come and gone and that is life, but some of you are still here and I hope I get to keep you here for a very long time. Max can not stop us and I want to be here with you until tumblr is put down like the beloved rabid pet it is.

I think we are all taking the news very hard and I think it's important to remember what it is all about really. It's about love and family and above all else the crew so i just want to show some love for my beloved mutuals. And i hope maybe some of you will be inspired to do the same because its what we need in these dark times. We need to be a lighthouse guiding each other to shore.

First of all @gentlebeard - Ella💕 my beloved honey 🍯 I can not explain properly or even believe how lucky I am that I found you and that I get a little good morning from you every day. We have been talking every single day since the first message over a year ago and I don't remember or want to remember how i survived before that. I will treasure the time i spent drinking pina coladas on your balcony in the sun forever and i hope i will get some more time on that balcony this summer. I have found a pirate bar in Sweden so we can continue our expensive pirate drinks theme that we started in Berlin. There is no one else i want to spend 6-8 hours talking to over the phone.💕My partner in crime, lasagna partner and floor person or whatever nicknames we have come up with during this time. You are not just the perfect friend to have, you are also funny, sweet, smart and a expert at making fanvideos that make me cry my heart out and laugh my lungs up - sometimes at the same time 💕💕

@blakbonnet - Meow my darling💕 you were the first one i really started to talk to in the fandom and i am so glad i did. You brighten my days and i love talking to you you brilliant humanbeing (i often find myself thinking i have listened to much to cabin pressure because i struggle to use any other word than brilliant to explain things.. the Arthur runs deep in me) also thank you for being my personal skincare guide in life!! Your fics, your art, your edits, your gifs, your meta the whole you make my dash a better place and we are all happy to have you! There is nothing you are not good at and i am both a bit jealus and impressed by you. Its Meows fandom we all just live in it 💕💕

@youshouldseemeinadeerstalker - Nes my dear💕 We may not be talking very often but I know I always have you there. I loved our vacation together and we had so much to talk about that we didn't even realize that the same song kept playing in my car so long that it messed up my spotify wrapped. It was amazing taking naps with you outside ruins of castles and in botanical gardens and living together in the worlds smallest hotel room. I hope we can get lost together in more cities than Hamburg and Copenhagen. (preferably without rain and sickness and maybe with a map) 💕💕

@darkinerry - Marlena 💕 its a pleasure getting weather and work updates from you and i am always interested in knowing what you have been up to and what you have to say. It brightens my day, please never stop!! Your videos and gifsets can make any day better and you are always kind and funny which are two things i appreciate hugely in my friends!! 💕💕 + You have the coolest haircut out of all my mutuals 😌

@aha-my-villainous-thoughts - Ash my wife💕 my love💕Nothing can make me scream, blush and giggle as much as your fanart. You have this style of everything you make from fanart to dolls to interior design that is so special and breathtaking. One day we will drink so many lattes in a cosy cafe and then sniff lush products for the rest of the day. 💕 You are always there for me - as a online shoulder to cry on or to motivate me with the smuttiest wips ever. I am happy to be mutual married to you 💕💕

@bizarrelittlemew - Ida 💕- my thirsting for rhys brother in arms. I can not imagine tumblr without your gifs or your posts. I love screaming with you over a picture of rhys darbys bicep. I am so happy i got to meet you this summer and i really hope it will happen again. We are not that far from each other, just some miles and a stupid bridge; we can make it. You are always a sweetheart and an incredible friend who write the hottest fanfiction ever💕💕

@dickfuckk - josh 💕 (who I also thought for a long time was called tyler) I dont know where the fandom would be without your bts blog! its a international treasure and a service to humanity. i don't know how you do it. 💕You always have everything i have ever been looking for and as a bonus you are witty and funny like no one else. I am so happy i got to meet you and spend a whole day in your company! 💕

@izzy-b-hands - Holden my absolute darling!💕 I am so glad I got the chance to get to know you! You are smart, funny and kind and my izzy mutual tm. You are always there for me with kind words and I am still forever shipping izzy and the third badminton brother which I think is the best headcanon I have ever helped coming up with. 💕

@funforahermit - Kristina 💕 Your love for Rhys and your gifs are a staple on tumblr and my dash. I know where to go when i need someone to understand how hot Steve is (even if we have agreed that he is yours and Murray is mine which i still think is a fine deal). I very often make or see a picture of Rhys and my first thought is "I NEED TO SHOW KRISTINA THIS" so you live rentfree in my brain 💕

@rainbowcrowley - Addi 💕If i ever start playing wow again you bet i am gonna be talking your ear off about my little frost mages progress but in the meantime i am happy to have you on my dash and even if we don't talk that much are you a beloved part of my dash and brighten it daily.💕💕

@fandomsmeantheworldtome - Maria💕 You were one of the very first people i found in this fandom and your gifs might have helped my rhys obession taking form. You might be into many things I have never heard of but its a pleasure seeing your excitement over everything. You are always a ray of sunshine and i love that so much💕💕

@tabbystardust - Tabby dear💕 You are the kindest person I know who I always get the strongest need to hug and hold close. Your fanart is beyond this world and i adore it like nothing else. Its always both hot and soft in the best way ever💕 I am always excited to get kitty updates and to hear about your ramen receipts. I hope we can still meet at the con next year! I am game if you are!! 💕💕

@hummingbee-o0o - Humming 💕 (i dont know your name sorry) I am always excited to hear your thoughts and metas about everything ofmd related as well as your beautiful art. 💕 it was a pleasure to scream about season 2 after every watched episode!💕

@xoxoemynn - Emy 💕💕 i am so happy to be mutual with you! 💕You always bring joy to the people who get to be around you and fill my dash with the same. We might not talk often but i know you got my back! That is the kind of person you are!💕

@saltpepperbeard - Jodi💕 No one write tags on tumblr dot com like you. There is nothing that can cheer me up more than see that one of my posts has gotten a whole ass novel written in the tags and then i instinctively know that its you who have left your wonderful mark. You are always excited and such a lovely human to be mutual with. 💕 And on top of that you make incredible gifs that make my heart stop!!! 💕💕

@autumnbois - Kai 💕💕 I hope you are doing okay. We might not talk much right now but you were there for me when i needed it most and you are a good friend to have living in my phone.💕💕 I will think of you whenever i see something related to scream and your love for piccrew always make me smile💕

@edsbacktattoo - Jams, jams jams! 💕 We are never online at the same time because of the damn time differences *shakes fist* but you are a staple in this fandom. Your art is incredible and you are the sweetest cookie in the jar. You are funny and always spread good energy to everyone around you and I love that with my whole heart💕💕

@kiwistede - Sam 💕 Your love for stede and rhys is unmet and i love you for that. You are always a good source for some rhys darby insanity and we all know that is what i treausure most here in life! 💕💕

@stedesearring - Kaitlin💕 You are the sweetest and kindest soul out here always spreading joy and love like the sun of my dash. 💕 I always love seeing you and i am happy to have the pleasure to have you as a friend in my phone! 💕💕

@stedebonnets - Ara 💕 Where would we be without your gifs?? without your joy?? without your blog?? without you?? No one knows! I am so happy to call you a mutual and friend and you always bring a smile to my face. Always!!💕💕

@appleteeth - Liz 💕 No one is quite as normal about rhys darby as you and it a pleasure to watch! Speaking of pleasure.. your fic the slightest touch is an all time favorite of mine and i would be embarrassed to tell you how many times i have read it... you are one of my mutuals that i am baffled that they want to follow me. Its a privilege! 💕

@as-a-creww - Caroline dear 💕 You are a beloved mutual and your blog are a permanent part of my dash and i want to keep it like that! you are the friendliest of the friendliest and what is more important than that?? 💕💕

@nandorisms - Ed dear💕 Your shameless reblogs makes the world go around. You are always sweet and a much needed wwdits addition to my life. I count you as a dear friend living in my heart!💕

@londonlock - Londie! 💕💕 The only sherlock mutual i have left and i am very happy to have kept you! 💕 I might have left those days behind me but you know as well as i that sherlock lives in my soul and seeing some sherlock and john love on a daily basis keep me grounded and on top of that are you such a romantic and beautiful human being! 💕💕

@follovver - Tanya 💕 My fellow Swedish ofmd fan! I am very happy to have found you! its nice to be able do discuss it in my mother tongue and i hope we one day can do it live! its to bad we never met when we went to the same uni (or maybe we did but didn't know) Du är fantastisk!! 💕

@wastingyourgum - Al💕(which i always read in my head as artificial intelligence and giggle because it make me feel like you are a robot) My fellow rhys friend. You bring me doses of darby when its most needed and your blog is always on fleek 💕💕

@xray-vex - Xray 💕 100 % one of my funniest mutuals!💕💕 You make hilarious posts that no one else could even dream of coming up with! Always top tier blog content and what more can a girl ask for??💕

@jellybeanium124 - Nina💕 I can not imagine my blog without you! Your posts are always a delight and you are so nice and sweet and funny and incredible (even when you make math mistakes kisses kisses) You bring a honest joy into the fandom that we could not live without! 💕💕

@thunderwingdoomslayer - Nellie 💕 My official rhys darby gif provider who I come to as if i needed a new hit of an illegal substance. I salute you and thank you for your service!💕💕

@forestofsprites - Green my dear 💕You might have gone from ofmd to be the supernatural provider of my dash but that does not stop you from being the kindest forest spirit i know. Your presence is calming in a way i can not explain and i am glad to have you and your love for meg here.💕💕

@cheersmequeers - Kate💕💕 A big puzzle piece to bring my dash together. Always filling it with my favorite gay pirates and i love having you here. Always friendly and full of love.💕💕

@sugashook - Sugaaa💕💕 You know i am in love with your art! Your art is always on top and it bring me back to life every time. I keep the dress i bought from you on the outside of my closet so every morning its the first thing i see and it sets the day right!💕💕 I wear your art on my tshirt to the gym as often as i can hoping to lure in a ofmd fan between the weights but that has not happened yet sadly!! Never stop making your art!! The world would be at loss if that happened 💕💕

@lacefuneral - Jay 💕(should be called YAY because that is what i say when i see a new selfie or fashion post from you) You are a fantastic friend and i love your love for stede and you are always kind and patient in a way that makes me comfortable to ask you questions about something i might not be familiar with. You are forever my moth mutual in my mind 💕💕

@meanmisscharles - Charles 💕 In my head i call you charles but i don't think that is your name but i hope its okay with you! Always friendly and sweet but ready to fight the bullshit the other spread! and such a source for good music recommendations!! 💕💕

@forpiratereasons - Darcy 💕literary no one does it like Darcy! Aways bringing the best ofmd posts to my dash and ensuring i don't miss anything! You are incredible! 💕💕

@blackbeardskneebrace - Miles my dear 💕 You make incredible art both the cute and amazing ofmd art but also the gorgeous historical art you post. Its a pleasure to see you talk about history but also about our beloved gay pirates. Your snoopy ofmd art will live in my heart forever and i think it might be healing me a bit. Maybe even watering my crops and clearing my skin! And those valentine ofmd arts from last year. I am 100 % gonna bring them back this February like beloved decorations you store in the attic. 💕💕💕

@awkward-fallen-angel - Heather 💕 You are one of the sweetest people i have had the pleasure to come across. You bring a big excitement and attention to the things you like and it moves along to everyone near. I mean i have watched long critical role videos just because you spoke so warmly about them and i wanted to know what it meant. I love having you here. 💕💕

@mxmollusca - Mx 💕 (dont know your name so i am just calling you that) I mean you are an incredible writer. I have only managed to read ifwts once because i cried so much that i am scared to open it again because i might just never stop crying. You are creative and funny and absolutely totally normal about rhys darby which in my book is a very good thing to be. And besides that you are a very friendly and nice mutual who is always a pleasure to interact with. 💕💕

@poisonintopositivity - Lilias💕 We have not talked much but we have been mutuals for a very long time and i hope you know that i appreciate you greatly as a mutual and you always but the best posts on my dash!💕💕

@glam-hutchence - Birb 💕💕my dear bird lover! You are a sweet potatoe and i love reading about your love for music and the concerts you go to.💕 Its so nice to take a little part of your life. You are always there for me and i always get happy when i talk to you. You are like a little happy pill! 💕💕

@turtles-on-turts - Turts 💕 Whenever i see a turtle i think about you. Its your brand! You make amazing art! and the ones on canvas always blow me away. 💕💕 Its incredible. You are also so very pretty and i have that picture of you in your depression robe with all the pigeons imprinted in my mind because it such a cute one. You are always very friendly and i love reading your personal posts as well. 💕💕

@vonlipwig - Franky 💕 You bring me lots of normality about rhys darby but these days also a huge bunch of normality about david tennant which i appreciate a lot. You are very nice and i stand by my assesment that you have a very cool aura!💕💕

@haeva - Mar my beloved💕 You bring me my wifes emily and valkyrie and a bunch of amazing posts about everything i can imagine. You are loving and sweet and good at maths which i am always very impressed by. I love being your mutual and doing ask games with you is a pleasure!💕💕

@mykonossalome - Myko💕 When i see moomin i think of you because i know how much you love it. We dont talk as much as i would like but the interactions we have had has meant a lot to me and i love seeing you posting about the things you love! 💕💕

@cottoncandiescupcakes - Cupcake 💕 I love that you are always so excited over our boy the swede and its a pleasure to compare language with you. We can continue fighting if the swede belong to the dutch or the swedes but that is a pleasure!💕💕

@mister-brightside - Andrea my dear💕. Your art is always perfect and whenever i see a picture of izzy giving the middle finger i think about you! Its your brand and its your picture now and no one can change that. You are sweet and caring and a lovely mutual to have. thank you!💕💕

@merryfinches - Kylie 💕 What can i say more than that i ADORE your fanart. The colours the style the softness of it all is exactly what we all need in these times. Every single time it shows up on my dash it makes my heart grows softer and my love grow stronger! I love it so so much. 💕

@ofmd-ann - Ann 💕 You glorious glorious gifmaker! Your gifs are always beautiful and these last days you have saved me with your wrecked edits. As a supplier of rhys darby gifs i love you forever. You are a hero love. 💕💕

@usersukuna - Bia 💕You are a gif magician. Your gifs are perfect and you are also very kind and sweet and i am so glad i can call you a mutual! You light up tumblr like no one else and i am always happy to see you on my dash.💕💕

If you are not in this list it does not mean that i dont love you or have forgotten about you it means that tumblr has put a limit to how many people you can tag which sucks. But if i follow you then it means i love and appreciate you. 💕💕💕 And you know what? We will make it through this hard and trying times of greedy streaming services putting an end to our gay pirates show. I love you all and you know what??

We will make it through as A CREW!

[strictlyfavorites]

George Carlin's wife died early in 2008 and George followed her, dying in July 2008. It is ironic George Carlin - comedian of the 70's and 80's - could write something so very eloquent and so very appropriate.

An observation by George Carlin:

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships.

These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

And always remember, life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by those moments that take our breath away.

George Carlin

[redrose10]

Here is Chapter 6! Things are getting heated between the two. I appreciate the feedback and I hope you’re enjoying the story!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 4,322

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

After what seemed like forever you and Jimin were having a day together at his place. He put out a spread of various foods and drinks while the two of you talked and caught up with each other.

“How have things been between you and Yoongi?”

“Slightly better I guess. We have meals together sometimes and we talk a little more.”

“He doesn’t shut up about you at work.”

“What do you mean?”, you asked taking a bite of your dumpling.

Jimin giggled, “I don’t know, he’s just always asking about you. Like how you’re doing or if you mentioned anything about him. It’s kind of cute. Like a teenager with a crush.”

“I mean we live together and we’re already married. Why doesn’t he just ask me himself?”

“I don’t know. Yoongi’s always been kind of weird that way.”

“Oh yeah I completely forgot to tell you that he was livid last night about you introducing me to Taehyung. Said he was going to kill you and then fire you. I still don’t know why he got so upset about the whole thing.”

“Well because Taehyung is extremely handsome and also very straight forwardly friendly and kind. He’s a lot of what Yoongi isn’t and Yoongi knows that. I think he was a little worried you’d run off because he knows he wouldn’t stand a chance if Taehyung made a move on you.”

His words caused you to stop and think for a moment. Yoongi jealous? “I mean why would he care so much? I feel like he’s been trying to get rid of me since day one so Taehyung would just be doing him a favor.”

“I don’t know. I think he’s starting to come around a little. Maybe you’re slowly melting away at his ice cold heart.”

You remembered what Seokjin had told you about Yoongi coming around eventually.

“Yeah well tell that to all the women he already cheated on me with. I’m sure that’s still going on somehow.”

“Trust me I know. I’ve had many words with him about that. Now as far as I know he hasn’t been with any women in a couple months. He even transferred out one of his favorite interns because she wasn’t taking no for an answer and kept coming on to him.”

The laugh that you let out bellowed through the room, “Yeah okay. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

After finishing up all the food that was left and helping him clean up you said goodbye to Jimin and headed home. You felt better, lighter even, after spending the day with him. It was definitely something you needed. Getting home you were surprised to find Yoongi sitting on the couch watching a basketball game. He was dressed comfortably in sweats and a tshirt. It was off as you’ve alway seen him in expensive suits. Even his casual wear was usually still designer and well styled. You’ve never seen him look so plain before but he looked happier somehow.

When he noticed you he smiled and told you there was some takeout in the fridge that he had ordered for you just in case you were hungry.

You thanked him and headed off to your room wanting to take a hot shower and get ready for bed as you weren’t really hungry after eating at Jimins all day.

Just as you were about to get under the covers a soft knock appeared at your door. Yoongi was standing there holding a mug which he quickly handed over to you and you smiled at the warm milk staring back at you. You had a feeling that he wanted something more than to just bring you a glass of milk at 11pm.

Your instincts were right because he began to nervously scratched at the side of his neck, “So Y/N our first anniversary is coming up and I was wondering if maybe you would like to go on a trip with me. To celebrate. It’s okay if you don’t want to. I’d fully understand. I just thought maybe we could go somewhere or I don’t know. Again it’s okay if you don’t want to go. I haven’t planned anything yet. I just thought I’d ask to see what you’d say. It’s probably a dumb idea.”

At this point he was rambling so fast you could barely make out what he was saying. Maybe it was the fact that you were so tired or that you were still on a high from the great day you had with Jimin but you agreed. “Sure Yoongi. I’ll go with you. Sounds nice.”

You could see the tension leave his body as well as the surprised look on his face showing that he fully expected you to decline his offer. “Okay, I’ll let you know the details once I have them figured out.”

Nodding you shut the door and climbed in bed with your mind racing. Another week stuck on vacation with Yoongi. Something you had hoped you’d never have to go through again.

A few days went by and one day during dinner Yoongi had told you that the anniversary trip was going to be a surprise. All you needed to know was to pack comfy clothes and that he’d handle the rest.

Two weeks later you were in the passenger seat as Yoongi drove the two of you to your destination. While surprised that this trip didn’t involve a plane you were also excited as this meant you werent going to have to suffer in tropical hell again.

After a four hour car ride you pulled up in front of a large cabin.

“I know it’s not the Alps but I thought it would be nice to go somewhere more low key and quiet. I wanted a redo of our honeymoon since I had purposely picked somewhere I knew you’d hate.”

“I knew you did that on purpose.”, you smirked.

Yoongi opened the front door for you with the code he was given while he went back to the car to grab the bags. The cabin was what you’d always dreamed about. There was a large fireplace with a stack of wood ready to be burned sitting next to it. A big comfy couch adorned with fluffy blankets and pillows sat in front. The kitchen was massive and to your surprise already fully stocked with food. Making your way upstairs to the master bedroom you were excited to see a balcony.

Stepping out you were greeted with the most breath taking view you’d ever seen. Snow covered mountains were framed by tall and full pine trees. Off in the distance a family of deer ran through the snow. You felt like you were looking at a Christmas card. It was quiet and peaceful and everything you could hope for.

While taking in the beauty you didn’t notice Yoongi step out onto the balcony behind you. He startled you as he spoke, “Do you like it?” “Yeah it’s incredible.”, you smiled. It didn’t take long for him to violently start shivering which got a big laugh out of you even though he tried his best to hide it.

“Come on you big baby. Let’s go back inside.”

Once back in the warmth of the cabin Yoongi told you to take a shower or a nap or whatever you wanted and he’d start on dinner.

You opted for a nice hot bath letting the water soothe you. The lavender oil provided by the host adding a nice comforting touch. When you were cleaned and changed into some comfy clothes you went down to the bottom level finding that Yoongi had built a fire and was just putting the finishing touches on the meal.

You both ate quietly before you grabbed a blanket and went to the couch to watch a movie while he cleaned up before joining you. There was an awkward feeling in you. Even though the two of you were married you’d never really spent quality time like this together. You weren’t sure if you should sit right next to him or maybe on the other side of the couch but is that too awkward? Should you share a blanket or get him his own? Let him pick the movie or should you? You felt kind of ridiculous because it shouldn’t be so hard to watch a movie with your husband but at the same time it’s Yoongi.

You wrapped yourself up in the fluffy green blanket and decided to just take a seat on the right side of the couch and let him make the next move. Yoongi walked in a few minutes later handing you a mug of warm milk before taking a seat on the other end of the couch.

“I already chose a movie. I hope that’s okay. It’s one I’ve been wanting to see for a while.”, he said.

“Yeah sure that’s fine.”, you shrugged secretly happy that you wouldn’t have to awkwardly try to pick something together.

After he clicked play you chuckled when you heard the familiar music.

“Seriously Harry Potter?”, you asked.

“Yeah I’ve never seen it before and I’ve been told I resemble one of the characters so I thought we’d check it out.”

Snuggling in deeper to your blanket you smiled and began to watch as the movie unfolded.

The two of you made it through the first movie and decided to also get through the second when about half way through you felt a sudden chill. Since you’d planned to go to bed after this movie you stopped adding wood to the fire and it was noticeably colder in the room. Looking over you noticed the goosebumps climbing up Yoongi’s arm and you realized he was without a blanket.

Knowing that you were probably going to regret it later you scooted over so you were sitting closer to him. Not touching but close enough that you could share your blanket so you reached over and placed half on his lap.

“Here you look cold.”

“Thank you.”, he said with a smile and pulled the blanket up to cover himself.

Once the movie was over and after a passionate review on his part you made your way upstairs when the realization hit you. This cabin only had one bed. Yoongi who was not far behind you stopped when he noticed you standing there.

“Oh um how are we going to sleep tonight? I mean with only one bed?”, you asked.

“Well I thought we could share the bed together. Sorry I guess I should’ve asked you first. I can sleep down on the couch if you’re uncomfortable.”

For a second you really did consider making him sleep on the couch but ultimately decided that the bed was big enough for the two of you to comfortably share.

After completing your nightly routines you got in bed leaving a healthy space between the two of you. Both on your backs staring up at ceiling in silence until Yoongi spoke.

“Red”

You looked over at him with furrowed brows, “I’m sorry, what?”

Not removing his eyes from the spot on the ceiling he continued, “My favorite color is red. When we first went on a date you asked me and I made a sarcastic remark instead of telling you so I’m telling you now.”

You hummed.

“I also do really like to drink whiskey but if I had to choose I would never pass up a glass of ice cold chocolate milk.”

You snorted and he laughed, “You have no room to make fun of me Miss Mug of Warm Milk Before Bed.”

“I love basketball and music. Those are my interests. Growing up I wanted to be a music producer maybe even a rapper but my parents put a stop to that and made sure I would be set up to take over the company instead. Sometimes I regret that I let them stop me. Maybe I’d be a happier person if I went against their wishes.”

“I think you’re pretty good at what you do though. I mean you seem successful. But you should definitely rap for me one day. I’d pay to hear that.”

“I don’t think you could handle my lyrics.”, he said causing you both to erupt into laughter.

After a while of silence he continued, “Y/N I want to apologize for the way I treated you this first year. I know these are just words and you’re going to need a lot more than that from me but I’m going to do my best.”

“I heard from Jimin that you haven’t been hooking up with other women any more. Is that true?”

“Mmhm yeah it is. I haven’t been with anyone in a couple months.”

“Can I ask you another question?”, you asked.

“Go for it.”

“Why were you so determined to make this marriage miserable?”

He let go of a long sigh, “Well it’s kind of a long story. But uh when I was sixteen I met this girl, Mia. After a few months I finally worked up the courage to ask her out and she said yes. We dated for a while and when we were nineteen I wanted to propose. We were young but I knew I loved her more than anything in this world and I wanted to spend my life with her because there’d never be anyone else that I could possibly love that much. She was my everything. So I had this big elaborate proposal planned. She thought I was out of town on a business trip but I had lied about that and I left her a note in our apartment telling her to meet me on the rooftop of our building and I had the whole area decorated with roses and there was a dinner planned and I had a piano set up to play her a song that I wrote and then I’d get down on one knee. But after she was like 45 minutes late I went down to the apartment to see what was going on and she didn’t even read the note because she was too busy fucking some guy in our bed. Then she confessed that she’d been cheating on me the entire relationship and was only with me for the money and perks of my family. So after that I swore I’d never love anyone ever again. If I don’t love anyone then they can’t possibly hurt me like that. So after I met you I wanted you to hate me and treat me like you hated me because then I’d never fall for you but no matter what I did you’d still always be kind and be there waiting for me and putting in effort to make this work. I found myself starting to realize that maybe not everyone is out to just use me and that someone could actually love me.”

You sat in silence trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry Yoongi. That did sound like a really nice proposal though. A lot better than here’s this contract, sign on the dotted line like mine.”

He chucked, “Nah looking back it was pretty cheesy anyways. Maybe one day I’ll give you the proposal you deserve.”

“Okay but I want a song. And there better be a rap verse.”

“Deal. Any thing for you.”

The room fell into a silence after that.

“Anything you’d like to ask me?”, you questioned with a smile wanting to change the subject.

“Nope” he said but thankfully you could hear the playful smile in his voice.

“What is your family like?

You knew he was trying to ask about the orphanage thing without directly bringing it up so you decided to just spill it.

“Umm well my parents were great from what I remember. They were killed in a car accident when I was around five. Then I lived with my Aunt Erica until I was eight when she passed away from cancer. No one else in my family was willing or able to take me in so I was sent to live in an orphanage which is where I stayed until I turned eighteen. Then I met Jimin in college and we became really good friends. When he moved away I was pretty much on my own until I came here. So I guess we’re both just a couple broken hearted people, just in different ways.”

He didn’t respond right away and you weren’t sure if maybe you said too much until he spoke again.

“I’m really sorry Y/N. No one should have to go through something like that. I wish I could take away that pain.”

“It’s alright. Nothing can change it now.”

The two of you talked for a little while longer until finally falling asleep feeling a little closer.

The following day Yoongi took you sightseeing through the little mountain town. You ate lunch at a very cute cafe owned by the sweetest elderly woman who recognized Yoongi and kept gushing about how out of all the places to eat he chose her cafe. She even made him take a photo with her to hang on the wall. The woman wrapped her arms around his mid section clinging to him for dear life while completing how toned he felt which caused Yoongi to turn a shade of red you didn’t think was possible for a person. You got a good kick out of it at least.

After getting back to the cabin you changed out of your snow soaked clothes and agreed to continue watching the next Harry Potter film as a continuation of the night before. This time though without thinking you sat down next to Yoongi and immediately covered both of you with the blanket before grabbing the tray of cookies and various pastries he had bought at the cafe earlier. He gave you a smile before taking one of the cookies in his mouth.

You guys got through two more movies before deciding to call it a night and getting into bed.

When you fell asleep you were on opposite sides of the bed. So you were extremely confused when you woke up a couple hours later and Yoongi was now spooning you while holding you as close against him as you could get. His arms tightly wrapped around your waist as his breath tickled the back of your neck.

Part of you wanted to scramble out of the bed and get as far away from him as you could but another part of you was really enjoying the warmth and comfort of being in his arms.

You tried to distance yourself and push away from him a little but his arms only snaked around you tighter pulling you back.

In your attempt to push away you may have accidentally stirred something in him. Slowly he began placing kisses along the back of your neck and down your shoulder. His hand running down the side of your hip before his fingers began dancing on your thighs. Your body seemed to melt into him.

“Yoongi”, you whispered trying to get a better grasp of what his intentions were. Maybe he was just dreaming you thought. He placed another two kisses to the back of your neck, “Is this okay? I’ll stop if you want.” You really thought about it. Your heart was telling you no but your brain and the rest of your body was saying yes. “You really haven’t slept with anyone else in the last couple months?”, you questioned. “I swear on everything.”, he answered.

Turning over to face him you suddenly felt an extreme wave of nervousness come over you.

“We don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable Y/N.”

You nodded, “I want to.”

He kissed your lips before adjusting himself to be on top of you. He began placing kisses along your neck past your collarbone. His hands reaching for the hem of your night shirt lightly gripping the edge. “Can I?”, he asked. You nodded slightly sitting up so he could pull the shirt off you.

“You really are beautiful Y/N.”, he said as his hands traced over your body.

As the kisses between you became more and more intense and his hands seemed to have more courage you felt him begin push himself against you and any apprehension you had went away. It had been so long since you’d been touched like this and you wanted him bad.

The rest of your clothes were removed as were his and your bodies reconnected like a magnet had pulled you two together. Whether it was the fact that it had been so long for you or the way that he took his time making sure to pleasure every inch of your body, it was the best and also most intense experience you had ever had.

Afterwards he pulled you close against him while you both tried to slow down your rapid breathing. He placed another kiss to your shoulder before nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. Just before he fell asleep you heard the faintest whisper, “I love you Y/N.”

After that you had a hard time falling asleep. Things in your relationship were moving a little too fast for your liking. This is what you had always hoped for and what you had always wanted but after everything that had happened with him you knew you would have to move forward carefully.

Having fallen asleep at some point you were woken up when Yoongi began moving and got out of the bed making his way to bathroom. A few minutes later the shower kicked on so you sat up stretching in the bed to wait your turn.

The nightstand next to you kept vibrating and you saw Yoongi’s phone laying face down.

Every few seconds

*Buzz*

*Buzz*

*Buzz*

You started to get annoyed but then you worried that something may be wrong. You grabbed his phone preparing to knock on the bathroom door when you happened to glance at the phone screen. There were several texts and missed calls nothing that concerned you as he was a busy guy after all. Until something red caught your eye. A text from someone name Suri. In the text a photo of a woman dressed in a barely there red lace lingerie set. You thought back to Yoongi telling you his favorite color was red. The text included with the photo is what caused the room to spin around you.

“Last week was amazing. Can’t wait to see you again. I went out and got a new outfit for you and in red just like you like it. Maybe don’t rip this one. ♥️😘”

After tossing the phone onto the bed you grabbed your suitcase and started throwing all of your belongings into it. You felt sick. You felt like crying. You felt like throwing something. He lied to you. He lied to you before, during, and after.

Yoongi unknowing of the events that just transpired came walking out of the bathroom towel drying his hair. “Y/N I think we should go back to that cafe for breakfast, they had a croissant sandwich I think you’ll really like, and then maybe walk down to that lake it looked really nic-.” He stopped when he saw you stuffing your bag.

“What are you doing?”

You looked up at him with a tear stained face.

“Y/N what happened? Did someone do something to you?”

“Yeah Yoongi, You!! I can’t believe you. What kind of sick game are you playing? Just when I thought you were changing for the better. That maybe deep down you were a good person and not a self centered jerk.”

“Y/N what’s going on? I don’t understand what happened?”

“Oh cut the bullshit Yoongi. You know if you wanted to just use me for sex we could’ve stayed at home and hate fucked each other or something. You didn’t have to bring me out here and make me think you were actually falling in love with me.”

“Y/N I do love you and I have been trying to change. I’m trying to show you that.”

“Fuck you Yoongi. I’m not doing this any more. Next time you need someone to stick your dick into go ahead and call Suri. It looks like she’s replaced the lingerie set that you ripped LAST WEEK! It’s a cute one too. I was even thinking about getting something similar last night but now at least I don’t have to waste money on it.”

Yoongi took a step forward to try and reach out to you but you put your hands up to separate yourself.

“Y/N nothing happened with her. I swear. I know it looks back but let me explain.”

“Save it.”

Before you grabbed the door handle you stopped and turned to face him, “You know I actually felt really bad for you after you told me about Mia and what she did to you. I understood how you could be the way that you are and I was 100% committed to trying to forgive you and move on with a loving happy marriage. But now, I don’t know if I can ever truly love you Yoongi.”

You slammed the door behind you and stormed out of the house. Thankfully the bus station wasn’t too far of a walk and the cold air gave you a chance to calm down anyways and also have an excuse as to why your face was so red. After buying a ticket you took a seat on a bench near the window to wait for your bus. You really wished you would’ve taken a shower before storming out of the cabin. The smell of cinnamon and vanilla heavily staining your skin, a painful reminder of your mistake from the night before.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Hello, I'm so sorry that you're having a mopey day today :(( But honestly I'm having one today too... I would love to read some fluffy fic, maybe some teenage!Rhys×reader where they are acting like stupid teenagers in love. Or maybe something with Az where reader is a shadowsinger too and they are fooling around and using their shadows to prank the IC. I don't know, these are just some ideas that popped randomly in my head so don't feel pressured to write anything. Anyway wish you best and I hope you will feel better soon 💗

Thanks, lovie! 💕Hope this is okay and cheers you up a little! I feel like I’m not very good at fluff but I did my best 🤣 thank you for sending it in! Enjoy 💕

Forget Me Not — (Rhysand x Reader)

"You'll be High Lord someday."

"I will."

Rhysand rested his chin on your leg, violet eyes peering up at you. In the balmy evening light, he looked resplendent, the sun offsetting the golden hue of his skin. You found your fingers absentmindedly tracing the shape of his lips, the brush of his lashes.

"Things will change when you're High Lord." You brushed his floppy hair from his eyes. "We will change. Our relationship."

At just nineteen, it was hard enough to navigate such a serious, intense relationship. You hadn't expected to fall so madly in love a year earlier, when your court — the Summer Court — had received the High Lord of the Night Court and his son as guests; a plan, you'd learned, to strengthen the relations between the Solar Courts and Seasonal Courts. The High Lord's son, Rhysand, had been nothing but charming and chivalrous. But you hadn't expected him to so much as notice you, as a mere a servant to the High Lord of Summer. When you'd served Rhysand a drink, and those violet eyes had met yours like they were staring into your soul, you knew immediately — you would never want anybody as fiercely as you wanted him.

Too bad that he was a future High Lord, and you a nobody.

It had been unexpected, to say the least, that he'd sought you out. Asked you to show him around the court whilst his father and your High Lord engaged in dull meetings. He'd made you laugh and seemed genuinely interested in knowing you. And when he'd returned to the Night Court, he'd promised to come back and see you again.

Which he had. And thus had begun a year of secret meetings and the thrilling adventure of falling in love. You knew Rhysand's father would never approve. You knew Rhys would one day be in a charge of his court, and not have the luxury of sneaking off to see you for a few hours, sometimes an entire night.

There was a time limit on your relationship, and that thought had begun to plague you more and more recently.

Rhys reached out, pressing your hand against his cheek. "Change doesn't always have to be bad."

"It will be the worst kind of change if we can't see each other anymore."

Rhys sighed softly, rolling onto his back. You knew he didn't want to spend your precious time together talking about such things; neither did you. You wished you could stay like this forever, sprawled out in the sweet-smelling meadow that had become your place to meet him. The thought of this place being empty of your love, your laughter, your conversation, made you teary.

"Please don't cry, my love." Rhys scooted closer. He tugged you until you were slotting between his legs, his front pressed to your back. "Why are you letting this bother you now?

Tears dropped onto your lap as you glanced down. "This past year is the happiest I've ever been."

A kiss was pressed to your shoulder. "Me, too."

"But you will be a High Lord. And of a court I don't even live in. You will be the most important member of your court, and I'm nothing but a servant. I feel like soon enough, you're just going to forget me. That you ever loved me."

You felt the way his body went rigid against you. After a pause, his warm arms slid around your waist, his face burying into the crook of your neck. He seemed to inhale your scent slowly. Desperately.

"Do you truly think I could ever forget you?" He murmured. "I remember the first second I caught a glimpse of you. You were the most beautiful person I'd ever seen. Still are."

You gave a watery laugh. "So beautiful in my old, ratty clothes."

"Your hair was in a loose braid, and when you leaned down to serve me my drink, a strand came free of the plait. I felt so compelled to reach out and tuck it behind your ear. And I thought your eyes could give this court's sunrise a run for its money. So bright and brilliant. Your cheeks were flushed, and you smiled at every single person, despite most of them straight up ignoring you. You were the most exquisite person in that room, and I couldn't look away from you."

You turned slightly in his arms, just enough to meet his gaze. "You noticed all of those things?"

A lopsided smile tugged at his lips. "Why do you think I tried so hard to get a message to you that I wanted to meet with you? I couldn't let you walk away. At least not without learning your name first. I certainly didn't think I'd ever be lucky enough to have you love me back."

You studied his remarkable face, noting every emotion, every thought, that he wore freely. For nobody other than you. You'd memorised that face as much as you possibly could so that when he wasn't around, you could close your eyes and picture him. His brilliant smile. The way his eyes roved happily over you. Sometimes, you could lay in bed and hear his laugh.

"Just...just promise me." You pressed your forehead against his. "Promise me that one day, when you're High Lord...even if you can't be with me anymore, you won't forget me. I couldn't bear you forgetting me."

Rhys's strong hand moved up to cup your jaw. There was no chance to read the look in his eyes before he was leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss started out gentle. Soft. The kind of tentative kisses you first shared in the early days of your relationship. Rhys's thumb brushed the line of your cheekbone, his mouth caressing yours.

But then his tongue was parting the seam of your lips and sliding into your mouth to intertwine with yours. Your mingling tastes had you sighing softly in satisfaction and angling yourself towards him further, one of your hands naturally reaching up to twine within the strands of his hair.

Somehow, you ended up in his lap, his lips working feverishly against yours in a hungry kiss. It was just the two of you in that meadow — the two of you and your love, that nobody — not even the High Lord of the Night Court — could take away from you. You would love him forever and always, no matter the distance, the social standing, the outside opinions.

Only when you were both panting for breath did Rhys tear his mouth from yours. You breathed heavily against each other's lips, your foreheads pressed together.

"Here." Rhys murmured deeply, quietly. "This is for you."

You pulled back just enough to glance down at the hand he held between you. You frowned down at the two tiny, blue flowers he pinched between his fingers. When he'd picked them, you weren't sure.

"A flower?" You were still battling to catch your breaths. "For me?"

"One for you and one for me." Rhys said. "They're Forget-Me-Nots. I'll spell them to forever stay fresh. And as long as we both have these, we know we'll never forget one another."

You blinked away tears as he tucked the flower into the strands of your hair, before leaning in to kiss you again.

"Always and forever, my heart." He whispered.

You nodded vigorously, cupping his cheek. "Always and forever."

[bueckerrss]

P.S. I still love you

pairing: chris x fem ! reader

-> warnings: cursing, angst. i think that’s it sorry in advance 😔. slightly short

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dear y/n,

it’s been a year already can you believe that? it feels like we met just yesterday at a random party i was invited to and to think i was going to skip it because i had a meeting the next day, i remember how i accidentally bumped into you causing you to spill your drink on yourself god i felt so bad watching you try to dry it off i just kept apologizing and you said it was fine but that still didn’t stop me from feeling bad.

i remember that after that party we became great friends and how inseparable we were, remember that one time when we sat up on your roof drinking sodas (considering we were both underage and hated drinking) watching the sunset that’s the day i realized that i loved you and wanted to be with you forever.

remember that time we went to the park with cat (absolute insane name for a dog by the way) then somehow his leash came off making us chase him around the whole park but before we caught him you tripped causing me to fall on top of you making us laugh uncontrollably for about five minutes, that was one of my favorite moments together (out of so many of course)

do you remember when we tried giving cat a bath? that motherfucker couldn’t stay in the bathtub for more than two seconds especially since he was a very hyper dog, i remember when he first jumped out you tried running after him but accidentally slipped on the bar of soap making you fall into the water, bubbles in your hair drenched in dirty dog water and yet i still thought you were the most beautiful girl i ever saw.

remember on our two year anniversary i took you to france for a week? gosh i was so nervous the day i gave you the tickets since you “never liked me spending money on you” but at the end you absolutely loved the trip especially that special dinner we went to where i gave you the necklace you’ve been wanting for weeks, i’ll never forget the look on your face when you saw the necklace it made me feel like i fulfilled my purpose as your boyfriend.

one of the memories that brings a big smile to my face is when i remember the day nick and matt met you for the first time they were so excited because i would never shut up about you and how great you were so when they finally got to meet the reason for my happiness it was awesome, having you all getting along was amazing i loved how they accepted you with open arms, the thing i hated was how nick would always steal you from me but i forgave him when i found out you two had a lot in common more than you and me i got a little jealous but opposites attract or whatever they say.

i loved when we would go sit in your car watching the sunset or sunrise while talking about our future, i loved the way your nose would scrunch every time you laughed or smiled, i absolutely adored your voice and how your voice sounded like honey in the early morning when you would wake me up.

i loved how much you helped matt when he had any problems or questions about anything and how you never made him feel dumb for it, that’s one of the many things i loved about you how you helped others and never made them fell stupid for the questions they asked.

i loved the way you would talk to little kids, how caring you were for them and it always made me think of how an amazing mother you would’ve been.

you know matt and nick still talk about you, same with my mom and dad they all miss you even trev misses you he always sits or lays down in your spot on my bed, fuck we all miss you y/n especially me, we had a lot of plans together we had so many ideas for our future! i even bought a stupid ring that i was going to give to you on our fifth year anniversary which is tomorrow but sadly not everything goes according to plan.

but i know that you’re no longer in pain and in a better place, you probably won’t read this stupid letter but thank you for giving me the best years of my life and giving me amazing memories that i will cherish for as long as i live.

sincerely,

ta chérie.

P.S. I still love you.

with that the boy folded up the letter placing it in an envelope tears streaming down his face but what he didn’t know was that the love of his life was there watching him write that letter with tears running down her face as she smiled sadly at him, she never got to tell him everything she wanted or the fact that they had a baby on the way.

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i cried a few times while writing this um it’s mostly based off of a movie i saw a few years ago that randomly hit me (movie: P.S. I Love You) also idk why but the songs i was listening to while writing this were depressing so that didn’t help at all but i hope you enjoyed this and pls don’t hate me 😔

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tags: @sturnioloslurps @sturniolos-blog