#and when talking about moving back they suddenly only wanted to talk in person

[bontentrio]

ATEEZ GETTING OUT OF THE FRIENDZONE

san x gn reader + mingi x gn reader (separated)

part 2 to ateez stuck in the friendzone! read that part so this makes sense

tw: slow burn + veeery dramatic + angst + fluff

a/n: both have the slowestttt slow burns in history of friends to lovers omg my heart did kinda break a little while writing them lol so keep in mind that both are VERY dramatic. maybe even cliche but honestly i just wrote what i, personally, enjoy reading. i’m just a girl in love with love 🥹

masterlist

SAN

san found himself attempting to hide his smile while you told him about your awful date from a few days ago. you were laying down with your head on his lap as san casually untangled strands of your hair, while you rambled on and on about the misfortunes he secretly thought were fortunes in disguise.

“who talks about their mother on the first date? like the whole time i mean, of course it’s okay to mention one or two things following the context of the conversation” you said, moving your hands dramatically to prove your point “but the whole time? i tried to switch the topic of the conversation towards work and can you believe he told me about what his mother does for a living before telling me what HE does for HIS?”

san couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. you were so cute and he was so happy and relieved that the date had failed.

“he should go to therapy” he said, in between giggles. “right?! sigmund freud would have been thrilled to have him as a patient” you exclaimed, laughing too.

after a few moments of cracking jokes and laughing about the situation, you turned your head to face san. “so what about you?” you asked. he looked down at you, smile on his face still. “what about me?”

“have you gone on dates lately?” you asked. he threw his head back, shaking it slightly “with what time? i’m too busy with schedules” he answered, half lying. it’s true that he’s very busy with his idol duties, but he always managed to make time for you. he knows he could easily use up that time to go on dates, but for obvious reasons that you still were ignorant to, he didn’t. to you, he was just an introvert.

“but are you not interested in anyone?” you pushed, lifting your head and sitting up to face him properly. san chose to avoid your eyes, not trusting himself to keep his own secret. instead, he looked to the city on his right, suddenly finding the building architectures more interesting. he noticed that the air in the terrace got warmer too, and the concrete platform you were sitting on got harder. or was he the one that got warmer and stiffer? “no, i don’t think so” he lied, but you knew him enough to see through it. “liar, you’re blushing”

“well it is an intimate question” he answered, attempting to smile in order to play it off. you shook your head no “you blushed and your left eye twitched a bit. that was definitely a lie and as your best friend i want to know!” you exclaimed, grabbing his hands. if only you knew the effect you had on him.

when he came back from tour, he was determined to confess. but now that the perfect opportunity arose, he couldn’t open his mouth. questions and different negative scenarios plagued his mind, convincing him that maybe it was a bad idea. he much rather work on moving on than lose you as a friend.

“are they that special to you?” you asked, in a much quieter tone of voice, noticing his silence. he nodded, staring at your eyes, hoping you could notice the love they held whenever he looked at you. but despite his desperation, you didn’t. “they are very lucky then, you genuinely are amazing in every aspect sannie”. you continued, going back to your original place with your head on his lap, but still holding his hands. he kept staring at you, if only you knew.

“thank you” san managed to say.

———

“how fast can you come over to help me with something?” you asked san on the phone, as he exited the practice room. it was like the stars aligned, because he had just finished for the day. “i can come over right now, are you okay?” he asked, worried something may be wrong despite you sounding relatively okay. “i can’t pick an outfit and- shit my aunt his calling me, invite yourself in when you arrive, i’m in my room and you already know the lock number of the door” you said, before hanging up.

outfit for what?

———

so that’s how san found himself sitting on your bed on a friday night, numerous pieces of clothing scattered all over without care. he scrolled through some unread messages while he waited for you to try on a different outfit for your new date. yes, new date. as if his heart haven’t just healed from last time.

“i matched with someone on this app and they immediately invited me on a date so now i’m having a fashion crisis” you had explained to him as soon as he entered your room. why was it so hard for you to realize that your dates have been failing for a reason?

you appeared once again, now wearing an outfit that honestly took san’s breath away as soon as his eyes landed on your figure. it was nothing too extravagant, actually, it was rather simple, but it was enough to make san’s head spiral. specially when you twirled around to show the outfit from the back, since your shirt had an open back.

“so? what do we think?” you asked, eyes filled with hope.

san was conflicted: he was 100% sure he has never seen anyone look more beautiful, more dashing, more perfect. but, it wasn’t for him. he didn’t want anyone else to look at you like that, they would never come remotely close to the way he feels about you.

“san-?” you started to ask after a few seconds of silence, but got interrupted by him: “don’t go on that date”

you looked at him confused, as he stared back with the same surprised face. that really had slipped from his lips before he realized what he was saying. you fucked up big time san, he thought to himself.

“why? do i really look that bad?” you asked, turning around to face the mirror in order to examine your body and face. he noticed the way your eyes dimmed, as you carefully traced your eyes over your figure, finding little imperfections that made your face turn into a sad frown. san felt his own heart shatter at the sight, and before he knew, he stood up and quickly hugged you from behind, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“sannie?” you asked, startled by his sudden action and making you momentarily forget about the insecurities that started flooding your mind. you looked at him through the mirror: even if he was leaning down on you, he was still much wider, making you feel very small in his arms. unconsciously, you lifted your hand and patted his hair. san lifted his head, looking at you through the mirror as well, and your eyes interlocked.

“you’re perfect y/n” he whispered. “i’m sorry if i gave you the wrong idea, you look beautiful and your date is very lucky”. he was trying to be supportive, but traces of sadness and desperation were evident in his face. enough for you to notice. you turned around, and the same hand that was patting his head went down to his cheek, holding him in place to look at you.

“what’s wrong san?” you asked, softly. your thumb traced comforting circles on his cheek, and you could feel his arms tighten around you as he closed his eyes.

“go on that date” he whispered in a shaky voice, before adding “you look beautiful”.

you stared at him confused for a few moments, not really knowing what to say. then, he kissed your forehead and, with the little bit of strenght he had left in him, unwrapped his arms, stepping back. he grabbed his jacket and went to the door, but not before shooting you another sad look and saying “like i said, your date is very lucky”.

he left, heart in his hands, slowly breaking with each step.

you cancelled the date.

———

san couldn’t sleep that night, he kept tossing and turning as his mind wandered about what you were doing with your date. were you still having dinner? no, probably not since it’s like 2 am. maybe it went so well that you invited them over for coffee at your place, something that will probably lead to something else. something he didn’t even want to imagine, since it wasn’t him committing those sins.

maybe it was time to move on, after all. he wants you to be happy, truly, so if your happiness doesn’t include him, then he should at least be supportive. and in order to do that from the bottom of his heart, he should move-

*knock knock knock* he heard, coming from the door. he decided to ignore it, thinking that it was probably mingi, so he turned around and closed his eyes, pretending he was asleep.

“maybe he’s asleep, i should come back tomorrow but thank you soenghwa” he heard you say from behind the door. he never got out of bed faster, as he sprinted to the door and opened it widely.

there you stood, now dressed in a familiar oversized shirt and baggy pants. completely different from the outfit he last saw you on, but to him you still looked beautiful. you looked at him with wide eyes, as seonghwa smirked next to you.

“i’ll leave you alone” he said, before he made his way to his room and shut the door behind him.

you stood there awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. you came here with a question, but now that you had san right in front of you, thoughts were scattered all over your mind and you couldn’t say a word.

“come in” he said, sensing your internal dilemma. you nodded in response, as you entered and made your way to his unmade bed.

“did i wake you up?” you asked. san shut the door and shook his head “actually i couldn’t sleep”

“me neither” you said in a low voice.

“how was your date?” he asked, unsure of what to say. he sat next to you on the bed, looking at you while trying to decipher your expression. you turned your head to san’s bedside table, finding the small plushie you once gifted him randomly. you smiled. “i cancelled it”

“what? why?!” he asked, with surprised wide eyes. you turned back to him. “i suddenly didn’t want to go, that’s it really. so while i was tidying up my room i found this shirt” you said, fiddling with the ends of the shirt that looked a little too big on you “the one you once lent me after we got stuck in the rain that one time. i told you i would wash it and give it back, but i didn’t. why didn’t i give it back to you?”

san stared at you in silence.

“so i realized it still had your perfume, and before i knew it, i had put it on. then i started thinking about you, about us. you’re my best friend, you know? but as i was laying down on my bed, i was thinking: what if you were not? what if my dates always failed for a reason?” you continued, as your fingers reached for his. “what if the reason they always failed was because i always searched you in them? so again, before i realized i was standing in front of your apartment, but with one question in my mind”

san could feel his heart beat increase and his breath shorten.

“what will happen to us and our friendship if i told you how i feel? how i think i always felt even if i didn’t know it?” you asked, looking at him scared.

“you’re dumb” he said, loud enough for only you to hear. that didn’t surprise you, what did was the way he immediately let go of your hand in order to hug you close, bringing you closer to his body. “what will happen? how would i feel? y/n you’re dumb because that’s how i’ve been feeling for a long time now” he said, hands leaving your waist and craddling your face. san stared at you, and now you realized that his eyes looked different: they held love in them. something you always searched on random people in dating apps, yet were never able to find. instead, it has been right in front of you this whole time.

“i love you” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. finally, he thought. he finally said the words he has been keeping locked deeply inside him for years. you smiled, as your nose touched his. “i love you too, i’m sorry i just realized”

maybe it was time to give you the silver necklace he bought you on tour, since now the timing was right.

MINGI

mingi missed you, a lot. he hadn’t heard from you since you stormed out of his house a week and a half ago. he had left you a couple of texts apologizing, and even attempted calling you, but to no avail. you had disappeared, and he didn’t blame you, he was stupid enough to let you go. in fact, that’s the thing he regretted the most about the fight: not chasing after you.

so he did what he knew best: he took his misery and transformed it into work, to be precise, he wrote three songs, all about his feelings, the situation in itself and you.

three different scenarios that made him hear yunho’s voice calling him dramatic in his mind. to be honest, he knew he was being a little dramatic about the situation. he knew that you probably just needed time to cool down, and that if his apology was good enough you would forgive him in a heart beat, because, in the end, he knew you loved him. maybe not in the way he wished for, but you loved him nonetheless.

mingi stared at the ceiling in silence, wondering what were you doing while he layed on his bed feeling miserable. did you miss him too? were you also thinking about him? he was certain of one thing only: he wanted to see you. it didn’t matter to him if you opened the door or not, he needed to at least hear your voice through the door.

he checked the time: 11:47 pm, almost midnight. fuck it, he thought. he stood up and quickly got dressed in a speed record time, tied up his shoes and grabbed his keys and song notebook in the process. by 11:55 pm he was already closing the door of his car.

as mingi started driving, questions also started flooding his mind: will you hate him if he suddenly showed up? what if you had invited someone over? shouldn’t he have discussed this with one of his friends first just in case?

questions, questions, questions.

no answers.

soon enough, he found himself standing in front of your apartment door. he could easily ring the door bell, knock on the door or simply use the spare key you gave him once for emergencies. yet, he was unable to do any, frozen in place as he mentally debated on what to do.

mingi decided to do something odd, something he would have probably laughed at if he saw it in one of the movies you usually forced him to watch with you: he took out his pen and notebook, ripped off one of the pages and wrote on it. then, he slid it under the door and left.

“i’ll tell you everything -m”

———

you have always been a hopeless romantic, mingi knew that perfectly well. you believed in happy endings, and that love and friendship can win over everything. so why hasn’t he heard from you still? did you not get the note? should he leave another one? no, that would be too pushy, it was only two days ago.

questions, questions, questions.

still no answers.

mingi was sulking again, and honestly it started to worry seonghwa and san, who watched as he walked back to his room right after dinner, without saying a word during the whole night. honestly, he was just too lost in his thoughts. their pair exchanged a look, before following him.

“mingi, hold up, everything okay? you’re more… distracted than usual” seonghwa said, carefully choosing his words. mingi hummed in response, nodding as he stopped in his tracks. “yeah, there’s just a lot in my head” he answered, not looking at his friends. “let us hear it then” san said, patting his back and leading them towards the living room.

the trio sat down on the sofa they had bought a few months ago, the one you had scolded them about because it seemed very expensive and too hard to clean. they had all laughed, but soon enough realized you were right when mingi spilled a bit of sauce on it. the stain was still there.

“so? what’s wrong?” seonghwa asked once they all got comfortable. mingi sighed, looking down before he started spilling everything that had happened, from two weeks ago until now. he noticed the eldest nodding along the story, but neither of them said anything until he finished.

“when exactly did you leave this note?” san asked, fidgeting with his bracelet. “two days ago” mingi answered. san’s eyes went wide, as he muttered a small fuck before he sprinted towards the kitchen. seonghwa and mingi exchanged a look, both equally confused at their friend’s actions. after a few moments and very weird sounds that came from the kitchen, san appeared again, with a crumbled up yellow post it in his hand. he handed it to mingi.

“the hell is this? it has food stains san, gross” mingi said with a disgusted face as he barely touched the paper. “open it, i found it this morning” san said, sitting down next to him again. mingi gave his friends a strange look, before carefully opening the crumbled up piece of paper. as he read, his eyes widened in surprise.

“what time is it?!” he exclaimed. “9 pm” seonghwa answered, checking the time in his phone. mingi muttered a small fuck, before putting his shoes on, and grabbing his bag.

“i’ll be back in a while” he said, before shutting the door behind him.

seonghwa looked at san, confused. “what the hell did the paper say?” he asked. san picked it up from the floor and showed it to him:

“8 pm, our special place”.

the hand writing was yours.

———

mingi was almost sure he broke one or two speeding laws on his way to the park where he hoped you were still waiting at. he cursed san for not telling him sooner, even if he knew it wasn’t really his fault to begin with. the park wasn’t far from his apartment though, just a short 10 minute drive. as cliche as it sounds, it was the park were you both met.

at that time, around 6 years ago or so, his mind revolved around perfection, hard work, pressure, debut. so he would succumb to overwhelming feelings pretty often, that forced him to need some time alone. that’s how he found a park nearby, and specifically, one peculiar tree that caught his attention for some reason. he used to sit down under it, notebook on his lap and pen between his fingers, as he scribbled down some random thoughts that plagued his mind during hard moments. he didn’t really plan to turn his words into songs yet, it was just his way to deal with stress. he used to find these little moments very special: it was like he was reconnecting with his inner, truer self, and not the mean facade he wore in front of his soon to be members. yeah, some of them irked him, like that wooyoung guy, but he didn’t mean to be that rude all the time. so, to escape the constant pressure kq fellaz was facing in between the company walls, he found solace in a park, but specifically, he found solace under that tree.

he could remember the day he met you like it was yesterday. he remembers all the stress he was feeling, debut date coming closer and closer. everyone was on edge, from the members to the staff. he had also recently come back from morocco after successfully shooting his first music video! but he couldn’t deny it: as much as he was excited, he was already feeling a little tired. he needed some alone time, just himself with his thoughts. so he found himself walking towards his favorite spot in the park.

only to find you there, sitting down under the tree. his tree to be precise. and you were writing on a pink notebook with a fluffy pen. mingi felt like he was looking at a reflection of himself, but instead of being comforted by it, he felt annoyed. it was HIS tree after all!

“excuse me, this is my spot” he said, coming into your field of vision. you looked up to him, pausing your hand and taking an earphone off. “excuse me?”

“this is my spot” he reiterated, making you chuckle slightly. “the tree you mean? does it have your name or something?” you asked, finding the situation hilarious. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, why did nothing go his way?! “listen, i had a shitty day and i need to sit there for a while, so can you leave?”

“no, i got here first. plus there are tons of other trees here, it’s a park after all” you said, putting your earphone back on and turning your gaze to your notebook. he stayed still in his place in front of you, making you huff in annoyance at his persistence. “look dude, i am not going to move. you can either sit on the opposite side or leave, i don’t care but stop bothering me” you continued.

mingi really really reaaaally needed to be at his safe place, too overwhelmed to funcion rationally, so he rolled his eyes and sat on the opposite side of the tree.

that’s how the story started: at opposite sides of the tree. soon enough it got replaced by sitting nearby, and eventually next to each other. some times you would even bring snacks to share in silence, as you both wrote down your thoughts on your respective notebooks. once he debuted, he broke the silence for the first time, urging you to listen to his song. after that, you started talking more, about music, shows, your respective jobs and life in itself. the safe place you both found under the tree, was also found in each other, quickly realizing you often shared the same thoughts and views about the world.

the story started under a tree, and he hoped it wouldn’t end there too. he needed you to be there, because he wasn’t ready to lose not only his best friend, but also his safe place. even the tree would become stained from the pain. and he would have nothing left, just questions, questions, and more questions about different what ifs.

you weren’t there.

but mingi wasn’t about to give up anytime soon. he started running towards the direction of your apartment, forgetting that he had parked the car on the opposite direction. his legs were aching, and he felt like he was a bit out of breath, despite all the idol training he has been enduring for six years. but he kept running.

until he spot you in the distance.

“y/n!” he yelled. he saw you stop in your tracks and turn around to his direction, confused at the sudden call of your name. once you spotted him running towards you, you sprinted to him.

his body collapsed against yours, as he hugged you tightly, like you would disappear if he let you go. mingi hid his face in the crook of your neck as you wrapped your arms around his back. you could hear his quick heart beat from how close he held you, and you were sure he could hear yours too.

after a while, mingi lifted his head from your neck, and looked at you. “why are you crying?” he asked, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “i thought you wouldn’t come, why are you crying mingi?” you asked, repeating his own actions, but on his cheeks. he giggled, he didn’t even realize he was crying. “i thought i lost you” he said, truthfully.

the park was dark, the only lights came from street lights. so, for outsiders, you probably looked like a random couple having a dramatic moment. definitely not mingi from idol group ateez and his best friend y/n reconciliating.

“i’m sorry” he whispered, locking his eyes with yours. they still held tears, that threatened to spill depending on your answer. you shook your head “no, i’m sorry mings, i shouldn’t have walked away like that. plus i didn't even give you a chance to explain”.

“i’m sorry for not showing you the songs, for not chasing you, and for being too much of a coward to not face you directly” he apologized. you hugged him again, shushing him. “i shouldn’t have pressured you to show me, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do”

mingi looked at you again, and bit his lip. “can i still show you though?”

“it’s not necessary, mingi, it’s fine real-“ you started saying before he interrupted you, taking your hand and leading you towards the same old place from before. “i want to” he said, determined.

you let him whisk you away.

———

back at the peculiar tree that was iluminated enough by a street lamp a few meters away, he sat you down at your usual spot. he sat down beside you, as he pulled out his notebook from his bag. mingi gave it to you.

“mingi, this really isn’t necessary-“ you started saying once again. “please” he interrupted, with pleading eyes. so you took his notebook and opened it on the first page. you already read that song, it was the first one he ever wrote a long while back. “read the last ones”

you turned the pages, until you found them. mingi looked at you nervously, starting to feel fidgety at the thought of you realizing his deepest secret, the only one he hid from you. he just hoped you wouldn’t hate him. he scanned your face, puffy eyes filling with tears once again as realization hit you. you turned your gaze back to him with wide, surprised eyes.

“mingi- what? wait, hold on” you stammered, as tears fell from your eyes. you quickly set his notebook aside to grab your own bag, taking out your new pink notebook, your diary. you handed it to him, saying: “open it on august 5th”

he stared at you confused, and slightly unsure too, since you’ve always been pretty secretive about what you wrote there. he found the page and read:

“august 5th.

so i realized something, that i’m almost too afraid to write even here. i’m scared that if i admit it, i’ll have to face a sad reality. i think i’m in love with my best friend, isn’t that stupid? that’s how i feel, at least. i haven’t seen him in a while because of his work, and i feel like i’m slowly losing my mind. why do i only feel complete when he’s with me? scratch that, why am i even writing this?

anyways, i’ll probably die with the secret”

“now turn to september 16th” you said, avoiding his eyes.

“september 16th.

i’m in love with my best friend. i love mingi. how insane is that? and how stupid? he is my best friend, for god’s sake. but i can’t help the way i feel, specially when he’s so annoyingly observant. like for example, the other day he noticed my pen was dying, so today he surprised me with a new fluffy pink pen. i hate him for making my heart swell at such gestures. specially because i know I KNOW that’s what best friends do.

anyways i’m not gonna use his pen because i decided i’m going to preserve it forever”

“and now, tun to november 10th” you muttered. mingi realized it was yesterday’s date.

“november 10th.

i still love him. and i fucked up. but i’m still in love with him”

he closed your notebook, turning towards you. he found you with your face on your knees, as you hugged your legs, too embarrassed to face him, despite now knowing his feelings. he loves you too, with the same devotion, with the same desperation and intensity. mingi loves you, his best friend.

“look at me, y/n” he whispered. you slowly lifted your head, hesitantly looking at him. the way you both looked at each other held more intimacy than ever. mingi slowly reached for you, bringing your face closer to his. his hold was shaky, almost unsure, this was a whole new territory. he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“i love you” he admitted.

too many questions, that finally got an answer.

“i love you too” you whispered.

taglist: @yoongles2025 @reallychaoticwoo

(to be added please let me know)

[icallhimjoey]

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: it's monday! and fake joe's here for you! he's... not exactly the best, for which i apologise, but, he's all for you, so please, enjoy him fictionally and respect him privately (too much to ask? i hope not?) ok great talk everyone, love you <33 xo

Wordcount: 6.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Four days of silence.

Four days of not looking each other in the eye. Of no physical touch. Of not saying a single fucking word.

You moved around each other in a shared space until you had the thought that you were probably better off avoiding each other completely for a little while.

Joe was convinced he had every right to wait for an apology before he’d speak to you again. You, however, obviously heavily disagreed.

You had just been honest.

Joe had asked for you to be honest and so, you had been, but apparently, you’d done it wrong.

It started with an evening of not speaking after an outburst. A silent night routine where you completely avoided one another. Acted like the other person wasn’t even there. You’d thought then that you’d speak in the morning. That you’d talk things out after getting some sleep, because maybe that was the problem.

You slept with your backs facing each other and dreamed of better moods in the morning.

But then the next morning, Joe had gotten up and only made one coffee.

One singular cup of coffee.

He drank it at the kitchen table, looked at you all bitterly like a disappointed parent would look at their child who was ruining their potential, and then left the empty cup there for you to grow even more annoyed at. More than you already were.

That one evening of silence had slowly turned into four days.

You bit your tongue, though. Kept quiet, because Joe did too. Stored the annoyance away. Swept it under the rug, and even though this metaphoric rug was starting to look really lumpy, you pretended you could walk over it fine still.

You then also ignored that this is precisely what the fight had been about. About you shutting up about all the little things that annoyed you. All the small things that didn’t feel worth the effort to say anything about in the moment, because you didn’t want to be a nag.

Things built with you.

Being bothersome was your worst nightmare, so you wouldn’t say anything for ages until then suddenly, on a random afternoon, a teeny tiny drop made the bucket overflow and you’d fall apart at something so stupidly insignificant which would take everyone by surprise.

Would take Joe by surprise.

And it made sense that Joe’s first reaction to your fire would be to light his own. You’d snap and shout, so Joe’d snap and shout right back.

“Babe, you never fucking communicate! It’s always– I’m always guessing with you! Just tell me when something upsets you!”

“I am!”

“Yea now you are! But you’re telling me about shit I said three months ago! What do you want me to change about something I did three months ago?!”

“I don’t want you to change anything– my God! You asked me what’s wrong, so I’m telling you what’s wrong!”

It was always the same fight. And usually, you’d end up saying something so stupid to your own ears it would break the tension and make you laugh. It’d be easy to apologise in those moments, because you knew this was on you, and the warmth coming off of Joe as he’d turn soft at your laughter would always sort of fix things.

“Stop being so silly,” he’d say as he’d hug you. As he’d kiss you on the cheek until your embarrassed grimace, aimed fully at yourself, disappeared.

“Got some moaning left in there?” he’d ask, tapping the side of your head with a finger, making you giggle despite yourself. “Want to go shout into the air from the balcony? Since you’re here now, this is the time to get all of it out.”

That was how it usually went.

And he was right; you could definitely communicate better. Express feelings in the moment rather than hold on to all the negative shit for ages.

Easier said than done, but at least you were aware that you had to stop saving things for another day.  

This time the fight had been different though. There was no eventual humour slipping through any cracks. No secret smiles hidden from each other until you stopped being able to conceal them. No apologies. Zero kind words. Just… anger. And silence.

Joe was waiting for you to break first. For your wrath to turn into something a little softer that he could mould into something more to his liking.

And you were waiting because Joe was waiting. Simple as that.

It didn’t feel fair that every time you’d share negative feelings, Joe would end up calling you silly.

It didn’t feel fair that Joe never apologised for anything.

It didn’t feel fair that, just because you were quiet for a moment as you collected your thoughts, Joe spat, “Silent treatment? All right.” at you.

Four days.

Four days of Joe making a morning coffee just for himself, actively choosing to ignore, and therefore, hurt you.

Four days of his lone empty coffee cup left on the table, which you then didn’t clean, because why the fuck would you, but the sight of it was eating you alive.

You spent four days witnessing petty, childish behaviour from the man who you started believing you needed some space from. A little breathing room. Just until he’d miss you enough to reach out and say sorry, you know?

You wondered if he was thinking the same.

If the silence was also letting his mind wander into those same dark corners yours was exploring.

But then, Joe broke it.

A glass of wine on that fourth night broke it.

It wasn’t exactly an apology, but… it felt like one. You decided it was an apology.

You were sitting on the sofa, tapping away on your phone, talking to Emily about your stupid boyfriend, and she was a good friend, made fun of him effortlessly which really did a good job of making you feel better.

Then, Joe placed a glass of wine down on the coffee table in front of you.

It didn’t fully register at first.

You saw the glass, but assumed it was Joe’s wine that he poured for just himself, and if you were going to want some, you’d have to go and fetch you own.

Mid-typing out a message to Emily about it, you felt Joe sit down next to you, and when you chanced a quick glance, you saw that he was holding a glass of wine himself as he got comfortable and turned on the TV.

Slowly, your phone lowered into your lap, and you stared at that glass of red wine on the table for a moment.

Without warning, your eyes welled up.

He poured that for you.

In the effort to not let Joe notice how this gesture hit you right in the gut, you held your breath until you were shaking, and then a heaving sob burst out of you.

Shit.

You shattered.

Split right down the middle, and burst into pieces with such vigour, you surprised yourself, but surprised Joe more.

He had expected you to pick up the glass and empty it in the sink, or whatever.

Four days was much longer than he thought you’d let this go on for.

His girlfriend was stubborn – he knew that. But four days? Four days was a really fucking long time. And, apparently, four days was long enough for a simple glass of red supermarket wine to make you cry.

The astonishment rendered Joe useless for a moment.

He just looked at you for a moment as you sat with your phone in your lap, head dropped down, and your face covered by both your hands.

This was really fucking embarrassing.

Your legs felt the want to escape the situation before your mind got the chance to catch up. You were up on your feet and wanted to bolt it to the bedroom when you heard Joe put his glass of wine down.

You hadn’t even taken two steps before you got taken hold of by an arm. Pulled into a chest. Held firmly into place.

Going from four days of moving around each other like you didn’t exist to one another, to the very sudden tightest hug you’d received in ages was a lot.

And then Joe placed a hand on the back of your neck and squeezed you gently, making you fucking bawl.

No one apologised.

No one said a word, actually.

But you took whatever that glass of wine was as enough of an olive branch to let yourself be hugged.

Be shushed quietly.

Be gently kissed and softly touched.  

It shouldn’t have counted as an apology, but you’d taken it as one, and Joe had conveniently let you.

Saturday night.

You’re out.

Alone.

You know Emily would have come if you had asked her to, but you hadn’t, because she would’ve likely asked a bunch of questions you didn’t want to answer.

“Where are we going?” “That’s not where we usually go...” “Why are we going there?”

Couldn’t tell her. She’d try her best to talk sense into you. Would try to convince you that this behaviour wasn’t serving anyone in the long term.

And she’d be right.

But you currently don’t really care about the long term.

Short term is where it’s at.

Where all the fun and the excitement lives.

So you’re out. Having drinks at a bar by yourself, and you do your very best fending off any trickle of doubt at your life choices until you see him walk in.

Jackpot.

You fucking knew it.

You pretend you haven’t seen him at all, of course. Continue your chat with the girl behind the bar, until suddenly–

“You know you’ve got the worst timing?”

Joe sneaks up on you.

His voice is low in your ear, and you do your very best to sound as surprised as you possibly can when you gasp a small breath, all innocent. You turn your head to see him over your shoulder, both his hands on your sides as he looks down at you.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You say it like you truly didn’t expect to run into him.

Oscar worthy.

Well. It would have been, had you not both been very aware that you’re exactly where you are for this exact reason. Wearing what you are wearing, drinking what you are drinking. It’s more than a lucky guess that he’d be here tonight.

Joe’s predictable like that.

Men in general are easy like that.

“I’m here with a whole group.” Joe’s making excuses he already knows aren’t going to stop either one of you.  

“Do I know them?”

“No.” Joe answers as he scans your face from the side. God, you look all… glossy.

“Good.” Would’ve been a bit awkward otherwise.

“You better hang around for a bit.” Joe gives you a face, sort of stern, and it’s so comfortable to frown at him. To act all offended. Like it’s not exactly what you want to hear.

“Excuse you, I’m–” you start all aghast, and want to add, I’m seeing someone, which is a lie, but you get cut off by a strong squeeze into your waist from both his hands.

“I’m not joking. Give me… maybe, like, an hour and I’ll come get you.”

You scrunch your nose at him and he gives a small nod, his grin spreading wide, before he turns around and finds the people he came in with.

You’re alone. Single, and having drinks in a bar by yourself, which has every opportunity to feel a little sad, but instead you feel giddy. You predicted you’d run into him, and then you did.

Perfect.

You’re a genius.

After last time, you kind of want Joe to think that you are seeing someone. Just to make you feel like you’ve got the upper hand. Not that it matters. You’ve both made the same wrong choice in similar situations before. But, still. You just don’t want him to win.

Joe joins his friends, and he throws a quick glance back to see you smile into your drink as you take a sip.

Yea. Glossy is the right word, he thinks. He could stare at you all evening.

Fuck.

A whack to his shoulder by one of his friends pulls him into a conversation and momentarily, he shifts into the evening he had planned to have.

He forgets about you for a minute, but never entirely.

It’s like there’s a constant little buzz in the back of his head, and he keeps wanting to look over. See what you’re doing. Who you’re talking to. Who’s talking to you.

Joe’s in trouble.

You do things to him that he can’t entirely comprehend, and that no one before or after you has ever really managed. He doesn’t know what to make of that most of the time, except that the feelings he’s got for you are sort of… big. And scary.

You’re still devastatingly gorgeous to him, he can objectively look at you and think, yea she’s fucking hot, but you also manage to make him laugh. Manage to him feel heard and cared for. Manage to make him forget about all current worries life has on offer for him.

And Joe is generally, just, doomed.

Whatever he had with you had worked for a while and then suddenly it hadn’t anymore. You’d suddenly wanted out, but now… it feels a little like you both want to start over. Like you both want to forget about that chapter of bullshit. Pretend it never happened.

And what’s the problem with that?

Is whatever you are doing now a problem? If it works?

If it doesn’t hurt people, Joe thinks there’s no issue.

But he knows it actually does hurt people. It’s another truth he ignores. Tries to, at least.

There’s no denying the gravitation pulling the two of you closer and closer together until eventually you end up a tangled mess. Like a pair of forgotten earphones left in a coat pocket, too annoying to untie, so instead someone will pull at both ends until the earpieces reach both ears, leaving the wire tangled up even tighter as it sits under their chin.

Even though Joe appreciates the poetic beauty he can find in all of that, he knows he’s got to fucking stop hurting people all the time.

He can’t help his feelings.

But he can help how he treats others.

If he is going to choose to let the general ache of a bad week be soothed by the balm of your presence, he can at least have the decency to not let others presume they’re dating him. Because generally, that’s always been his problem. Joe’s vague and avoidant and all about surface level fun – he never defines anything if he can help it, and he lets others think what they please.

It’s easier that way.

For him, at least.

It’s both a shame and a godsend that this is a part of him that you know through and through. That you see. He doesn’t have to try to hide it, because he knows that it’s of no use with you.

And apparently, it’s fine, because here you fucking are, aren’t you?

He remembers when he thought you were just the same, and remembers how he felt so lucky at first.

A perfect match.

He’d learnt over time, you’re actually very much not the same. But! You had at least some of the same tendencies, and you showing up in this particular bar tonight was enough proof of it.

Joe’s in his group of friends, and they’re all chatting and laughing, and this was meant to be a fun night out, but he might as well just leave right now. His mind is with the girl at the other end of the bar, sat on her own, smiling and chatting to whoever had the courage to strike up a conversation.

Yea.

He’s got more problems.

Forget not wanting to define anything with anyone.

Joe also has to stop banking his entire future on the idea that you want him too.

There’s… there’s a lot of things to ignore.

It should foreshadow that the path he’s going down isn’t good. Isn’t the right one. But... it’s so fun and exciting, he kind of has to know where it leads.

He sighs loudly, a frustrated grumble originating from sheer defeat, and he gives the glass he’s holding a glance. He’ll finish this, and then he’ll fetch you and leave.

About fifteen minutes later, he’s got you under his arm and is leading you outside. Asks, “Yours or mine?” because there’s no need to act coy with you.

You answer, “Yours.” a little too quickly for Joe not to raise an eyebrow at.

You’re walking together, and you’re still fixing your scarf, but your steps are too determined. Too rushed for your quick answer not to hide at least some secrets.

“What, you got anything to hide from me?”

“No–”

“Let’s go over to yours. It’s closer.” he challenges without the intent to actually do so, footsteps still carrying him in the direction of his own flat.

“No, I–”

“Or has Jasper left all of his things strewn about?” Joe couldn’t finish the question before having to twist his mouth in a bid to hide his smile.

You stop walking for just a second, and give him a dead pan stare that transitions into an eye-roll before you flatly say, “All right, good night.” and pretend to turn around to leave.

It makes Joe throw his head back in a laugh, both his arms grabbing at you and pulling you close.

“Mine, okay. Mine.”

And you fall back into step, smiling into your scarf at how you just made Joe’s laugh echo down the street.

Feels good to make Joe laugh.

It’s quiet for a bit, just a short few seconds. Just footsteps on the ground amongst the noises of the city. Somehow, it feels like it drags on, like every second lasts a whole minute, and you can’t help filling it with awkward chat. “No,” you start. “Jasper’s put all of his things where they’re supposed to go.” And you give Joe a pointed look after.

He bites immediately.

“Wha– I always put my things where they’re supposed to go!”

He doesn’t.

You know he doesn’t.

He knows you know he doesn’t.

It’s impossible to forget all of the little things that made the rug look all lumpy. You’d always keep things under there for ages, which gave you a lot of time to quietly lift up corners to examine all the mess.

So you snort, and he stutters through beginnings of words he never finishes to find excuses that don’t exist until you’re both laughing.

Then he says, “Here. I’ll put this thing where it’s meant to go.” And you think it’s just about the cheesiest innuendo ever, but then he takes your wrist in his hand and lets his fingers intertwine with yours.

You look up at him with a pursed smile, but Joe’s already looking right ahead, making sure you don’t bump into anything.

You’re lucky it’s cold enough to blame the flush of your cheeks on the cold wind.

You hold hands all the way to Joe’s flat.

It’s nice.

You also talk about Jasper all the way to Joe’s flat.

That’s less nice.

Joe asks what else Jasper does that he allegedly doesn’t. If he lets you keep your heating on. If he lets you sleep closest to the door. Every question comes out with disdain, like this loser doesn’t know what he’s fucking doing.

And you answer every question with lies. Paint a very pretty picture.

Jasper doesn’t even fucking exist, but you like that Joe thinks you’re taken. That you’re off the market, and that he shouldn’t be taking you home, but still chooses to. You think maybe he wouldn’t have held your hand if he thought you weren’t already spoken for.

However, it doesn’t feel so nice to remember all the things that ruined your relationship with Joe. He just keeps listing a bunch of shit you’d once yelled at him for, and you don’t think he fully understands how it’s bringing the mood down.

Presumably, you’re meant to think it’s funny, so you smile, but all of it sits wrong in your gut. It leaves you with a bitter taste in your mouth that uncomfortably sticks to your tongue and sours your mood a little.

The short-term fun with Joe is meant to be just that. Fun. You don’t want to be reminded of all the reasons why you shouldn’t be going home with him right now. If you did, you’d have taken Emily with you tonight.

You refrain from saying anything, though.

You’re still you, after all.

You just smile and tell Joe that Jasper actually does do all the things that Joe never did, and hope it sparks enough jealousy in him to maybe do something about it.

“Hmm,” Joe says when you turn the corner and his building comes into view. “Jasper sounds... he sounds kind of perfect, doesn’t he?”

He does.

You’ve created the image of a perfect boyfriend. One who you know you’d never actually gel with; you need someone who pushes back a little.

Problem is... Joe knows that too.

Just when the thought crosses your mind that maybe Joe knows you’re making everything up, that you’ve been lying this whole time you’ve been holding hands, Joe confirms your fears.

“Almost too um... almost too good to be true, wouldn’t you say?” he narrows his eyes in suspicion, a smile still playing on his lips.

“Yea, well. Some people are.” you shrug, but know Joe is reading your unsteady body language just fine.

“Sure, sure. Yea. I guess so.” Joe says, and then falls silent.

He knows you’re lying.

Well, fuck.

And then, he lets the silence linger.

Joe doesn’t say anything as he fishes his keys from a pocket and lets you into his building. Doesn’t say anything as he pushes the lift button. Just gives you a little smile, like he’s trying to hold in a chuckle, thinking secret thoughts.

It gets in your hair.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s... no, it’s nothing.”

Joe lets his small smile turn into a fat smirk and it’s starting to get on your nerves. The lift doors open, and you assertively step inside before Joe can give you a small ladies-first gesture.

Joe watches you press the button to his floor before he shakes his head a little and follows you in.

“What?” you ask again, and to that, Joe finally lets a barking laugh out.

“What?” he mimics, feeding off of the brooding bit of bite he can sense growing underneath your skin.

“If you’re trying to piss me off, it’s fucking working.”

“I’m not trying to do anything.” Joe patronises, joy very much still visible in the lines on his cheeks.

He knows you’re single.

He knows there’s no Jasper.

“Hmm.” It’s your turn to narrow eyes at him. “Yea, no. Of course not. You don’t have to try to piss me off, you’re right. You’ve got the skills to auto-pilot your way–”

In a lightning-speed quick move, Joe shuts you up by suddenly getting close enough for you to stumble back against the mirrored panel or the lift. He’s got two hands touching your sides over your coat, firm enough for you to feel them through the thick layers of fabric.

It startles you into silence, and makes you audibly swallow.

You can see from up close how Joe smugly pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes roving over you slowly, and, fuck.

Yea.

Yea. Okay.

It shifts.

All of it is shifting.

The annoyance and slight anger transfers into something else.

Into something a little more raunchy.

You feel a sudden rush down your body from the way Joe’s eyes blaze with intention.

Joe knows you. Bit rash of you to forget.

Just before the lift stills and the doors open behind him, Joe lets his body sway forward a bit to press himself up against you entirely. It makes your breath hitch and stutter. Makes you want to grab hold of the large collar of his coat to pull him down enough so you can kiss him.

But then, in a blink of an eye, he’s gone. Pushes himself off, quickly moves away, walks out of the lift, and leaves you there to catch your breath for a second.

Fucking hell.

Oh, tonight is going to be interesting.

You don’t leave the lift until the doors start closing and you have to quickly launch yourself across to get an arm in front of the sensor. Down the hall you see him disappear into his flat, leaving his door open, and you take rushing steps to follow him inside.

You don’t want to waste any more time.

You want to undress right there on his doormat, despite the bitterly cold temperature you’ve just stepped into.

You want find Joe, who you can hear is already opening and closing cupboards in his kitchen, and just... you don’t know. Jump him, you guess.

That lift moment has made you want to devour him. Made you want to be devoured by him.

But then you close his door and step into his kitchen, and find him at the counter. He’s got his back turned, and is super calmly pouring two glasses of wine.

No urgency.

Zero haste.

He knows what he’s just done to you. Knows the effect that likely must have had. He’s toying with you. Fucking playing.

You drop your coat where you’re standing, right onto the floor. Toe your shoes off to make a pile. You cross your arms and grab hold of the bottom of your top, ready to pull that over your head next, but you pause to watch Joe’s shoulders move under his shirt as he carefully twists and pushes the cork back onto the bottle to seal it.

When he turns around, he leans against the counter, one hand on the edge of it, and in the other he’s holding a nice fat glass of red.

Glass.

One glass.

For a moment you just assume that there’s another hiding behind his back, though it doesn’t even fully register.

You make eye-contact as he takes a slow sip of his drink, and then you slowly pull your top off. It reveals a lacy bra you’re convinced Joe likes the look of.

And you’re right.

Joe halts, and openly stares. Mouth in his wine. Hypnotised. Frozen on the spot. Mind slowly turning to mush.

He’s predictable like that.

Men in general are easy like that.

You take a deep breath, inflating your whole chest, and Joe groans at the sight. The glass of wine gets put back down behind him, and you don’t even think he has taken real sip. Then he takes a few steps to pull a chair from his table.

He holds a hand up that means, one second, and pulls at the fabric of his trousers to give himself a bit more space before he sits down. He shifts a little, settles in, and then leans back with his legs spread wide, both hands behind his head, fingers folded and elbows sticking out.

He takes a deep breath before he gives a small nod that says, carry on.

You bite your teeth into your bottom lip as you smile, because Joe is an idiot, and you let your hands find the button to your trousers to take off next.

Then, suddenly, it lands.

There’s one single glass of wine on the counter.

One.

You stop your movements as you look at it and watch the red liquid inside softly swirl from when Joe put it down.

It takes a second for Joe to follow your gaze, and for him to understand what you’re looking at.

He frowns in confusion a little, looks back at you to see that you’re still staring, and then looks back again, and–

“Oh...”

Your expression has gone cold.

And Joe thinks that maybe he gets it. He isn’t entirely sure, but he’s smart enough to know that the show he had just settled in for is probably going to get cancelled if he doesn’t do anything.

“Did you...”

But he’s not sure what to say. Doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. When you start moving, he thinks maybe he doesn’t have to.

It’s crazy how this feels like it used to feel, before.

But, it’s a little different now, because… there’s nothing at stake. There’s no you to protect. No you two as a couple to preserve.

That stupid single glass of red wine.

You fucking hate it.

And you know it’s sick, you know that you’re not meant to enjoy this, but the feeling of rage bubbling up within you honestly feels kind of good. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten to experience full-body resentment, and have the immediate source of it right there to take it out on.

You want to feel this dark, sticky displeasure.

Feels fucking good.

Joe’s been reminding you of what a shit boyfriend he was to you, which was meant to be ha-ha funny. Joe thought enough time had passed. You had gone from no-contact to two people that bickered for a bit, and then would end up in bed together. It had happened twice already, and you had all the right ingredients to keep this going. The recipe had proven itself delicious, and Joe thought he could just... serve the same meal again.

It’s self-destructive, you know it is, but… you are hungry for it too.

You take a few slow steps and walk over to look at this glass of wine more closely. Joe watches you from his seat, entirely unsure of what to do, and then, without warning, you slowly push the whole thing into the sink.

Red splashes everywhere, and the glass clatters loudly, but it doesn’t break.

Next, you take the bottle into your hands. Look at the label for a moment. Pretend to read it. It’s still pretty full.

Too bad, you think. Such a waste.

You remove the cork, turn around to look Joe directly in the eye, and then tip that over as well. The whole sink colours blood read as you drain the whole thing, and all Joe can do is watch on from his seat.

He doesn’t stop you.

Doesn’t say anything.

Just watches you and feels the energy of the room build.

He’d forgotten how things always build with you.

You’re quite the sight, face reading thunder, standing in his kitchen in your bra, breath deepening with every second that passes.

Joe hates what it does to him inside of his trousers.

When the bottle empties, wine clattering in the sink, Joe sees your face change. Something more… calm seemingly overcomes you. You look... pleased.

“Does that feel justified?” Joe asks, eyes blinking at you.

“Fuck you. Yes it does.”

“Do you have any idea how expensive that was?”

You don’t give a shit how expensive that was, but just because you know Joe does, you want to know.

“Tell me.”

Joe scans your body all the way down and then all the way back up.

“Come here.” Joe holds an arm out and reaches for you.

“Shut up. Tell me.” You’re already making your way over.

“That’s a class A premier grand cru...”

You take Joe’s hand and let him pull you to sit on his lap. To straddle him, thighs spread wide, one leg over each one of his.

“That was a class A premier grand cru.” the words mean nothing to you, you know fuck all about wine, but there’s something glorious about correcting Joe.

“Hmm.” Joe hums as his nose nudges yours, and he lets both hands slide up your thighs until he finds the bits he likes holding most. He uses his grip to pull you in closer and continues, “A blend of merlot, and cabernet franc...” Joe’s French accent is awful. “An award-winning Château Angélus from... from 2016, I think...”

That’s fairly recent, you think. Can’t be that expens–

“Cost me over 500 quid.”

Your eyes darken.

Good.

You wouldn’t pay much more than a tenner for a bottle of the same size.

“Should’ve poured me a glass.”

And it’s only then that the penny drops. That he gets it. You can see it in his eyes. The flush of memories suddenly making it to the forefront of his brain.

The silent treatment.

The coffees he didn’t make you.

The wine he eventually did pour for you.

That one glass of red that temporarily had fixed everything.

Shit.

Joe grimaces. Groans. Squeezes his eyes shut. Feels like an idiot.

“Should’ve poured you a–”

You kiss Joe.

Hard.

Breathe him in, and move in enough for it to almost make the chair tip backwards. You’ve got both your arms around his neck, hips moving over Joe’s lap in a desperate grind, all needy and in search of feeling something.

Fire.

You want to feel the fire.

Momentarily, you think it’s working. That something is catching aflame. You can feel how Joe spreads his legs even wider, bucking his hips upward as he presses himself into you.

Joe is straining in his trousers, and he groans as you figure out the right rhythm to make it feel good with every hip roll, with every back and forth.

You break the kiss to let a moan escape you, head dropping back, and Joe’s mouth finds the skin of your neck to taste. His teeth graze before he kisses as you fiercely move against each other. Louder noises escape you when Joe lets a hand curl around and grab you by the back of your neck.

“Yea? That feel nice?” he pants, and all you can do is bob your head in a barely there nod as you keep moving.

It does feel nice.

Feels really nice.

Not exactly fire, though. You’re both in trousers, fabric rubbing together furiously, dry humping each other like a pair of horny teenagers who haven’t passed third base yet.

So, not fire, but nice none the less.

In contrast, there’s a lot of things Joe’s feeling, and he kind of wants you to know about all of them. Needs to speak them into the air in order to fully process what’s happening inside of his brain.

“Did you know I um… I broke everything off, the next day?” Joe starts, and stops to curse under his breath. “Fuck. Yea, keep going. Shit. Ah... A-after you left, I mean, remember? I had a lot of m-missed calls, so I called her back, and I–”

You shut Joe up with a kiss.

Try to at least.

“We could–” Joe starts again after turning his head and pushing you aside with his nose, both hands spread wide over your thighs as he helps you move over his lap. “Remember, how we really were something?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Try to focus on the feelings inside of your body instead of on the words you don’t want to hear.

“We could be something still.”

“N-no.”

You refuse to acknowledge what Joe’s trying to tell you, but don’t stop your movements. You can’t stop, head dropping back. This all feels too good.

It’s still not fire, though.

There’s no stakes.

You’re both single, and every decision you have made this evening turns out to have been inconsequential.

It’s... it’s almost boring.

But it’s good enough.

You just need a couple more seconds, you can feel it building already.

“We c-couldn’t be somethinhgh...” you choke on your words, unable to finish the sentence.

“Yes,” Joe insists, voice low and breathy, your bodies still moving in tandem. He then uses one hand takes hold of your face by your cheeks, tilting your head down so he can make eye-contact with you for a second.

“Yes we could.” He sounds hopeful as his eyes search yours. “Don’t you get it?”

But your eyes are glassy. They flutter and want to roll back.

Joe knows this look.

Know what this means.

And it’s not like Joe thinks his kind words will really fix anything, but, maybe they will, you know? Maybe. He’s glad he has said them anyway, even though you look like you haven’t even properly heard him.

“You close, baby?”

He switches gears.

“Yea? Come on.” He helps you move with strong arms that press you down a little more, and your arms scramble behind his back in your want to hold onto him tightly.

“There you go.” he coos into your ear, and, it’s not fire, but you come anyway.

Joe should have poured you a glass of wine.

Shouldn’t have brought up bad memories, shouldn’t have tried to be funny about it, and absolutely should have simply gone and poured you a glass.

You pretend that a glass of wine would’ve made a difference tonight.

The difference that you had hoped to find.

That would’ve lit the fire.

Deep down you know that’s not it, but still. The empty bottle is right there, watching you come down from your high, Joe still hard beneath you, and it’s easy to use that as the excuse.

You decide on the spot that Joe’s going to have to deal with what resides inside of his underwear by himself.

You’re done.

Sitting up, you look him in the eye for a short moment and softly but definitively say, “Should’ve poured me a glass.” and press a small kiss to his cheek which Joe gladly accepts.

Because he knows you’re right.

“Should’ve poured you a glass.”

---

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[reader-from-another-dimension]

IM BACK IM ALIVE So sorry for being dead for a bit tehe im back again with some tomfoolery, hope you enjoyyy :P Secondbee au by @yuukirita!!! Part 1, 2, 3 hereeee

_____________________________

Elita regrets telling Optimus about the cave-in.

She sighs, watching the leader of the Autobots pace around the moving train, occasionally stopping to look out at the window glass to check if they’re there yet.

You would’ve thought she told him the Decepticon had busted in their base. The way his face pales (as much as it could being silver, anyways) and how he insisted on coming with.

She wasn’t worried about Cliffjumper, not really, the mech can handle himself just fine - there was a reason his name was what it is, after all. But alas, logic might not be available inside Optimus’ blue-helm right now, seriously, he spirals.

“Optimus, sit-down.” The pink mech grits out, she was already in a bad mood when Cliff scares her half to death when his comm suddenly cuts out, then the reports about the collapsing mine.

How ironic, she couldn’t have ever forgotten that mine. There were a lot of feelings going on when she assigned the place to Cliffjumper, it was mostly to just distract the bot, but deep down, she had hoped that he might be able to stumble upon sub-50.

Now, Elita has never personally seen sub-50, the place was a myth to her, a warning to scare mine-bots into behaving, she hadn’t thought the mines even went that low.

She hasn’t gone there, not really. Not even after what happened.

She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to.

Optimus told her about it, sometimes, if he had enough high-grade on a particularly slagged day. He told her about Steve and the others (she had only recognized Steve’s name), told her about how he and D-Megatron found him.

The stories usually ends there, when the mech starts shaking and they drop the topic.

Elita knew, she heard enough of Cliff’s complaints enough to know, Optimus truly couldn’t handle the red-mech being in any sort of danger, even though he was a fully trained soldier. Jazz said it might be a fragged-up coping mechanism, she wasn’t sure.

The Prime babies Cliffjumper to the point of ridiculousness, it had only gotten worse.

Despite that, Elita couldn’t bring it on herself to talk Optimus down from it. It was also pretty funny to watch, too.

Optimus flinches at her rough voice, and meekly sits down next to her, his antennas scratching the roof of the train, making both of them wince. Elita sighs.

This is going to take awhile.

______________________

Finally, finally, they arrived at the cave-in mine. Next to her, Optimus exhales shakily at the sight of the mine’s entrance. She had told him to stay behind, damnit.

Regardless, they look around, occasionally tapping their comms to search for Cliff’s frequency, awaiting a response. Every cycle passes, the more nervous and jittery Optimus becomes, pacing around again. Elita sighs, she could never understand how some people find this mech intimidating, was it the height difference?

They walk and walk, until finally arriving at the reported collapsed part of the mines. Also presumably where Cliff’s signal was lost.

Elita grimaces at the gaping hole in the ground, so deep she couldn’t even see the bottom. Glancing at Optimus, she can clearly tell the mech was going to lose it at this point.

She nudges him, tilts her helm, then jumps down.

Optimus’ scream is like music to her audio-receiver.

________________________

They landed in a run-down hallway, looking like there was no one around for centuries, the amount of dust in this place is going to clog her vents, ugh.

“Elita.” Optimus calls out, and she walks over, glancing at what he was pointing at.

Fresh poot prints, about the same size as Cliff’s.

“Well,” She lets out an exhale she didn’t realize she was holding. “Looks like we won’t be here for long, after all.”

They continue on.

Passing broken lamps and scratched walls, Elita frowns at the shredded posters of Sentinel, she’d recognize those claw marks anywhere - Cliff never really had good impulse control. They were heading in the right direction.

“Hey, Elita.” Optimus’ voice jolts her out of thoughts, she looks at him.

“Do you think…nevermind.” Oh no, they’re not doing this again.

“Once you start something, better spit it out, Optimus.” Elita snaps, it was the only sure way to pry any kind of worry out of the Prime, he had developed this nasty habit of hiding things - even from her.

Optimus isn’t looking at her, but his antennas are flat against his helm, red flag.

“The matrix, it’s…acting up.” That made her pause, as much of a blessing the artifact had been, it was also a huge headache, for both her and Optimus. Damn gods and their cryptic relics.

“It is? How long has it been doing that? Have you gone to Ratchet for that? What am I saying, of course you haven’t, Primus, Optim-” “Elita!” The Prime’s shout cuts Elita off of her rant, she glares at him, but the annoyance quickly vanishes when she sees what he was pointing at.

Cliffjumper, very much alive and kicking, standing shell-shocked at the sight of the two of them at an end of a dimly lit hallway. Elita releases a vent she didn’t know she was holding. See, Optimus? Cliff was fine, he-

What the pit is he holding?

Cliffjumper seems fine, nowhere physically injured, at least. Squinting her optics, as Optimus calls out for the red bot, Elita can vaguely make out a small figure in Cliff’s hold, like a drone bot.

Primus, if Cliffjumper also starts getting attached to and bringing back drone bots, Elita wouldn’t know what to do. Why, oh why did out of all of Optimus’ traits, that would be what Cliff picks up after the Prime.

Oh wait, he’s coming closer to them, Elita can hear his voice echoing back from the end of the long hallway.

“Optimus, Elita! L-Look!” Oh no.

“Cliff, I swear to Primus, if you’ve picked up another dro-” Elita had to cut herself off, her voice failing her as she looked at what Cliffjumper had in his hold.

“...Oh.” Optimus mumbles, his out-stretched hand frozen mid-air.

Elita resets her optics, twice.

Shivering in Cliffjumper’s arms, so small Optimus could probably hold him in one hand, was a sparkling. An honest to Primus actual, active sparkling.

And that’s not even the real kicker. Because when Elita resets her optics again, Optimus has one knee on the ground. One would think he’s doing it in order to not scare the small sparkling who’s a fraction his size, but Elita knows better, it took all of her willpower to not do the same.

Bright, if a bit dirty, yellow frame, with two black stripes running down their rounded chest frame. Two small (absolutely itty bitty) wings on the back, jittery in their movements, likely from nervousness due to the sudden attention.

A small horn at the side of their head, the other side missing, likely an accident, based on the dent on the sparkling’s helm.

Elita lets out a shaky vent, her frame is still and high-strung, like one small push can set her off.

Optimus hasn't said anything yet, he’s not moving, instead the Prime stares at the sparkling who looks so much like a friend that it hurts. Primus must have an awfully twisted sense of humor, he must be.

An old wound now all torn back open, blistering with pain she thought was long gone. Optimus’ frame shakes with frantic vents.

The sparkling looks up at the two of them with wide, scared but curious blue optics. They cling to Cliffjumper like a lifeline, small hands holding on red frames so tight it would’ve left dents.

“E-Elita-” Optimus finally speaks up, he calls out for her, but his optics didn’t leave the sparkling, he didn’t dare to.

“...B?” For the first time in her life, Elita can admit that her voice broke, just this once.

[ppssession]

The hottest server

Long is a huge fan of body-swapping and other genres and is often on various Discord servers to talk to you about his interests.

One day, on a discord server, a strange link suddenly appeared. The sender said that it was a link that would allow those who clicked on it to receive a new body, and he also sent many pictures of handsome men, claiming that they were all his bodies.

On the first day, he sent me a picture of a big muscular guy.

The next day, he sent me another picture of a cute guy.

Of course, most people on the server don't believe it, they think it's a picture that the person copied from the internet.

But strangely, long thought that what this mysterious person said was true. long spent hours thinking about whether to click on this strange link, hoping that it was not a virus that would destroy my computer. long thought anxiously. Finally, he chose to click on the strange link.

As soon as I pressed the strange link, the computer screen turned completely blue. A message popped up. "Will you keep this a secret from society?" Long didn't hesitate to press OK immediately. A series of messages popped up one after another. "We will allow you to tell this to people who have the same interests." Okay. "This has a cost. Are you sure you agree?" "Okay." When Long pressed all, the user window appeared. This is a website for you to choose your new body. Here, there are many bodies for you to choose from, both male and female, of all ages, of all races in the world. We will let you use the body you choose for free for 1 hour. If you want more time, you have to upgrade your floor.

This website has a very good management system. It's been a while since I've found the race I want. He selected for a while and then pressed on the body of a handsome man. A message popped up asking if he wanted to use this man's body. "Yes." Note: Your old body will be paralyzed. You should put your old body in a safe place to prevent harm (including malnutrition from not moving for a long time). Do you agree to possess this man's body? "Yes."

As soon as the screen was pressed, it turned white, leaving the last message, Have fun. Long's body felt the electricity flowing into his body, his body slowly twitched, the images gradually darkened, long felt the surroundings gradually changing like he was swimming in a current. Cut to the handsome guy that long had chosen, his body while he was playing with his phone, his screen turned blue, a message popped up, Have fun. Suddenly, electricity slowly flowed into his body. It came from the fingers that touched the phone, the electricity slowly flowed up to his arms, neck, face, ending with the electricity. He went into the man's brain. "Ah." The man stretched out his chest, his body twitched, his eyes rolled back and forth until after a while, his body slowly calmed down. Long slowly opened his eyes in his new body. He liked the feeling in this body very much. He started to explore the young man's body back and forth, finally stopping at the large penis of the body. "Wow, it's not even hard yet, it's already this big." Long smiled before noticing the phone with the message on it.

He read the text on the screen of his phone, You are in Li Bai's body, then followed by some information, this man's age, birth date, family, when I read further, I saw the information of the website.

This website is a website where you can choose a body of any gender, age, or race. It is a secret that only some people know. The length of time you can possess a body depends on your level. When you register for the website, the system will set you to the "Pron" level, which has the right to use the body of another person for 1 hour. You can upgrade your level to receive more time. Long read until the point where you can upgrade your level.

Upgrade from Bronze>Silver(You can possess other people for 10 hours, cost 10,000$)/per month

Upgrade to Gold level (You can possess other people for 20 hours Receive memories immediately upon possession without reading history., cost 100,000$)/per month

Upgrade to Diamond level (You can possess other people's bodies forever without having to return to your original body. Not only that, you can immediately receive the memories of the body you possess without having to read the history that we will possess you via your mobile phone. We also have a security system that when you have an accident or are in prison, we will move your body to the safest body near you. The cost is 1,000,000 $)/per month

When Long finished reading, he noticed that thirty minutes had already passed, so he looked at how he could pay to upgrade his level. Fortunately, the website could accept transfers from all currencies and from all over the world. It would be no problem if he paid with his Yuan in $. However, he thought about where he would find so much money. He remembered to open the account of the body he was possessing, Li Bai, and found that there was so much money that he could possess this body easily. Li Bai was a very famous person in the country. He must have a lot of money as a top celebrity. He chose to upgrade to diamond level, the website immediately displayed a thank you message, “Thank you for upgrading to our highest level, hope you will stay with us for a long time.” Long didn't care much, he exited the website, he rejoined the discord with the strange link again, sending a picture of his new body, “Hey everyone in the server, I want to say that this link is real, you can have the body you want at a great price.” Sending Li Bai's picture into the group.

Don't forget to send me a picture of you in your new body. I'm looking forward to it, but I have to deal with the erection in my pants first… The new Li Bai.

[alex-thegiraffeboyy]

Chapter 4: Promise

Bewitched Masterlist

Summary: You cope with the loss of your loved ones and try to reconnect with someone you thought was dead.

WARNINGS❗: Violence, descriptions of death, panic attacks, almost death, reference to reader working in a brothel (nothing explicit), blood.

Words: 2.4K

A/N: As I said in one of my posts, writing this was very difficult because I just want to make comfort for my wife. Maybe I'll write a shot or two apart from this fanfic. Let me know if you are interested! (And sorry for this chapter)

You were right. They should never have done that job.

Now they were all dead.

After their first kiss they never talked about it again. They didn't have time (much less when they were interrupted by their brothers who wanted to see if everyt

hing was okay). So yep, they never talked about how they felt.

And now they lost that opportunity forever.

After robbing the townhouse upstairs everything started to go downhill. Mylo got them in trouble and soon after the enforcers arrived. From then on everything went from bad to worse. Until it came to this.

Your friends, dead.

You weren't there when it all happened. You couldn't have been. After witnessing Benzo's death you fell into a nervous breakdown. You tried to comfort Ekko, but your breathing was getting shallower and shallower and the tears were building up faster and faster, but you still managed to stay calm enough to climb down from the roof with Ekko to unlock the door that locked Vi.

After opening the door you stood with Ekko, you heard him say a couple of things to Vi, you even felt him move away from your side to get closer to her, but you didn't move an inch. Your head felt empty and your gaze felt blurry. A white noise buzzed in your ears. You thought you heard Vi speak, but, again, you didn't understand what she was saying. Your mind had only an image playing over and over and over and over....

And over again.

The screams of the executioners and the sound of gunshots.... The muffled sound of bodies falling to the ground. The image of your brother, paralyzed from his hiding place on the roof, watching everything, as always. You didn't stop him in time, but you had no way of knowing what was going to happen. They both heard Benzo cursing the person in front of them (Silco, she seemed to remember) and Vander trying to stop him. The next thing they heard was a thump and Vander's scream. They saw the blood splatter and heard the loud clang of metal against the floor. And from there they saw the body of the man who had adopted them. Bleeding out on the floor. And at some point you managed to get out of shock and hugged Ekko against your chest, preventing him from seeing what was happening in front of you. But you saw it all. Vander being beaten again and again, the blood spilled, the executioner who delivered them and the man leaving as the creature dragged Vi's father away. All the while you felt your brother trembling against you, sobbing silently. Clinging to the only family he had left. And you clung to him too, trying to comfort him (and yourself too) as you watched the spectacle of blood in front of you.

The bodies. The empty looks. The violence. It was all in your head.

But maybe, maybe if you had insisted more. If you'd stopped Vi, if you hadn't given in to helping them, maybe you could have prevented this, maybe Benzo would still be alive and Vander would be safe, maybe we all....

"Sunshine"

Suddenly it all disappeared, her voice and her hand on your shoulder bringing you abruptly back to reality. You blinked a couple of times before you could focus on her in front of you. Vi looked worried. She gently brought her hand to your cheek, holding and caressing it as her other hand slid from your shoulder to your waist gently. You saw her turn to Ekko, nodding to him before he left the room.

A little later you realized. You were shaking.

Once Ekko left the room your tremors increased more and more, tears ran hot down your cheeks one after another while your breathing became shallower and shallower.

Your head was spinning and you felt like you couldn't breathe. Your legs failed, but Vi, as quick and observant as ever, held you up before you had a chance to fall. She held you against her and gently guided you both to sit on the floor as you hid in the crook of her neck. She held you tightly against her chest as she too let out some of her own pain.

And all was silent for a moment.

Until it wasn't.

First she heard a muffled sound, a sob, she thought. But it came again and she felt you writhing against her. Quickly she forced her body away from yours and looked at your face, painted in a horrifying mixture of pain and panic. In a panicked voice she asked you what was wrong, but you couldn't answer. You shook your head, eyes wide and one hand holding your shirt. She saw you squirm a couple of times before she noticed. You couldn't breathe properly.

However, she remembered seeing you help Powder at some point where her sister had had some panic or anxiety attack. So she could only replicate your actions. She held your free hand and brought it up to her chest while her other hand held your neck and part of your jaw.

Vi softly whispered your name, looking at you gently and firmly, capturing your attention "Breathe with me, okay? Can you do that for me?" Despite the nervousness and anxiety that was also boiling in her chest, Vi tried to regulate her heartbeat to give you some reassurance. Something to hold on to. "Feel my heartbeat, focus on that."

A few moments passed like that, until you finally managed to get your breathing back together a little and a sob mixed with an attempt to cough came out of you, letting out relieved sigh from Vi's lips "There you are, honey" A clearer sob came out of you before you started crying again, but this time more calmly "You're doing great, love" she slowly brought your foreheads together until you had them against each other.

A restless part of her wanted to run out and find Vander. She needed to know where he had been taken. She needed to go looking for him.

But I knew I couldn't leave you. Not like this at least.

So she stood there with you for a while longer, holding you and reassuring you while trying to do the same for herself.

A few minutes later, you were stable enough to regulate your emotions.

"Thank you."

Vi had barely been able to hear you. Your hoarse, cracked voice had barely come out in a tiny whisper. Her heart couldn't help but squeeze.

"You're welcome honey."

But her heart squeezed even tighter when she realized she needed to ask you that question. And she needed to ask it now.

"Sunshine" Violet whispered against you. You let out a small murmur to make it clear to her that you heard her "Where did they take him?"

Your heart stopped for a moment. And you couldn't help but want to cry again.

"Vi..."

"Please."

Her voice, just as broken as yours, begged you as you pulled her body apart so you could see her face. A silent plea etched in her gaze.

"I can't lose you too" hot tears pooled in the corners of your eyes, threatening to slide down your cheeks again.

"I can't afford to lose him too" she sobbed as she held your hand tightly "I can't lose anyone else".

The worst thing is that you understood her. That's why you told her where you had heard they were taking Vander.

How much you regretted it now.

You tried to go with her, you really did. But she made you promise to stay in the store. I couldn't let you go with her, not when you were so unstable. Not when she was so afraid something would happen to you.

"I can't lose you both" She had whispered that afternoon in a broken voice as she held you against her "I can't lose you."

So you made a promise.

You promised to distance yourself from Vander's rescue. You promised to take care of Powder if anything happened.

But Vi assured you that nothing would happen, that they would come back with Vander. That she would come back to you.

What a big lie.

So you didn't say goodbye. Just see you soon.

You often think about it.

You saw her leave in a hurry. Not before giving you a hug and leaving you in Ekko's care. Your little brother stood for a moment by the door, watching your gaze lost in the blood-covered glass. He slowly approached you and plopped down next to you on the floor, resting his head on your stomach, trying to hug you despite his small musculature. You put an arm around him, while your other hand gently caressed his head.

"We're going to be fine Ekko."

And they were, eventually.

You think that's one of the only promises you were able to keep back then.

After Vi left, you and Ekko stayed in that room for a while, side by side until you fell asleep. Until you heard the explosion, waking you both up. You remember running outside the tent and seeing blue smoke in the sky. An alarm went off in your head. Violet.

That was the first promise you broke.

You hesitated, you really tried to stay in the tent with Ekko. But your concern for your friends was greater. You made sure your brother stayed in there before you left.

When you arrived the flames had already been extinguished and the blood on the floor was diluted with rainwater. You carefully entered the building, trying not to step on anything that would cause a collapse. You searched all that remained of what was once the warehouse. You waited for a scream, a sob, something to tell you they were here and needed help. It never came. But you still stayed.

But they say that the curiosity killed the cat.

It was when you were about to give up that you found them. Or at least what was left of them.

You found only fragments of their bodies charred by fire. And you did manage to make out the head of Powder's toy monkey. And that told you everything you needed to know.

You returned to the tent, Ekko waiting for you at the entrance. You didn't need to tell him anything, your expression revealed everything he needed to know.

They were dead.

Then you broke your second promise.

You tried to carry on with Ekko for a few years, working for Babette for half the week (which Ekko didn't like very much), but soon after you quit your part-time job to devote yourself entirely to the project you had created with your brother after you both found a big tree in one of the corners of the undercity. The firelights.

But some time before you retired from your job you found out about it. One of your customers told you about it after you completed your work (some people sometimes got very talkative).

Powder was alive, and she called herself Jinx now.

It took everything you had not to cry like a baby in front of your client. How did you not find out sooner? You could have take care of her all this time, you could have been there for her after her siblings died.

But then your client blurted out one more piece of information. Powder Jinx worked for Silco.

That bastard.

That same day, after your workday, you returned to the room (if you could call it that) that you shared with Ekko in the tree and told him everything. You both agreed that you should go and look for her.

Maybe she would be angry, but the least you could do was to try. So they did.

When they found her she was alone on the roof of The Last Drop. Let's just say things were getting worse by the minute.

"Sunny?" her voice, broken and frightened as her eyes shifted from Ekko to you in panic "What are you doing here?"

You tried to approach her, but stopped when she took a step backwards.

"Pow, I swear we didn't know, we thought you were-"

"Dead?" she finished coolly. You nodded carefully, looking into her eyes. "And now that you found me what?"

It was then that Ekko decided to enter the conversation "Powder us-" For a split second something changed in her eyes, as if she wasn't there.

"Shut up" She blurted out, not looking at either of them.

"What?" Ekko turned to look at you, concerned.

"I'm not talking to you, asshole."

"Powder, we just want to..." But she didn't let you finish.

"Don't call me that" she shouted, this time looking back at you "You and Vi are the same trash, always tricking me so you can tell me what to do. You don't care about me at all."

Ekko took a step forward, standing next to you as he raised his hands, trying to calm his once friend "That's not true, Powder. We really-"

"I SAID DON'T CALL ME THAT" She shouted loudly, this time pointing her gun at your brother's head "You have no right, I don't need to be saved."

They should have understood at that moment. But their hearts wouldn't let them. And that almost cost them their lives.

Slowly you tried to put Ekko behind you, making at your movement Jinx now pointed at your head.

"Surely you and Vi planned it" She blurted out with her voice brimming with anger "Surely you both planned a way to leave and leave me to my fate" your heart ached at those words. What had happened that day to make Powder react like that? For her to jump to such conclusions? Violet loved her more than anything in the world. It would never occur to her to leave her alone.

"No..." You heard the safety on the gun being removed, testing you "We would never do that. She loved you so much. I love you."

But you were both crying "You're a liar."

And then she released the shot.

~🦋~

That's the story of how you broke your second promise.

If the world wasn't screwed up with addictions you'd probably have a cigarette to celebrate everything you've endured to get here.

If it wasn't for Ekko's quick reaction you'd probably be dead. Instead you have a scar on your left cheek and a piece of your ear missing. But that's a thousand times better than being buried underground.

The worst thing (according to your brother) is that you forgive her for it.

And you'd go through the same thing a thousand times over just to talk some sense into her.

But you've done the math. Everyone has. There's no solution. Powder is gone, only Jinx is left. So that would never work.

Why she can't let her go?

Why she can't let anything go?

Because it hurt when you thought she was dead.

But it worse to know that she's alive and nothing will ever be the same again.

[olliewrites-stuff]

What needed to be said.

Isadora’s body sighed to a halt upon recognising the tousled blonde hair of the person cradling a mug of coffee through the cafe window. Driven by an insistent urge to force her presence onto this once-friend, now-stranger, she stormed through the establishment’s kitsch red door. Her footsteps pounded towards the figure before she tapped an indignant finger between their covered shoulder blades.

"I wrote to you," she hissed.

To their credit, the blonde recovered swiftly from the initial shock, relaxing their shoulders once more and sighing deeply.

"I know,” they whispered. An infuriating silence followed as they took a leisurely sip of their steaming beverage, “but you never said what I needed you to say."

Isadora jolted back as if she’d been slapped. “What’s that supposed to mean, Carlin? I wrote to you! You didn’t bother writing back to me!”

The blonde sighed again, placing their mug gently on the table.

“Fine,” they stated, pulling out the lacquered stool next to them and gesturing for Isadora to sit down. “Let’s talk this through, I guess.”

Carlin picked up their coffee and took another slow sip, waiting silently and expectantly for their estranged friend to take a seat. Isadora slid into the stool warily whilst eyeing the side profile of the other.

They looked… tired. The dark bags under their eyes would certainly not be permitted to be carried onto an airline cabin. Their gaunt face whispered remnants of a mental and physical decline that Isadora had missed entirely due to her distance. However, a stubbornness resided behind the exhaustion that dared Isadora to call it out. It dared her to name the obvious, and in doing so, speak that which had been avoided.

Her cowardice won, as usual. Isadora slumped in her stool with a heavy sigh. “What did I need to say, then? What would have made you stop avoiding me?” she murmured.

It was Carlin's turn to sigh, “I never actively avoided you, you know? I just stopped being the first to reach out. You never instigated anything, so suddenly receiving your paragraphs of texts one night just - wasn't what I needed.”

They took another meditative sip of their coffee. “I needed effort. You forgot about me, and I moved on. One day you decided for whatever reason that I was finally worth some attention, but I'd moved on.”

Hazel eyes met Isadora’s searchingly, “I deserve effort, Dora. I deserve more than a word vomit apology late one night.”

This entire situation suddenly felt like a clusterfuck of historic proportions.

“But, but,” Isadora stammered. “But I didn't want to bombard you! I realised that coming out of nowhere would be jarring, and I didn't want to scare you off! I purposely didn't want to follow up until I heard back because I didn't want to overwhelm you!”

“You're telling me that I should've gone with my gut instinct?” she cried. “I thought I was doing the right thing by saying my piece, apologising, and then giving you space!”

A glimmer of frustration finally pierced through Carlin's stoic stare. “'The right thing’ would have been reaching out YEARS before you did. Time to process is only effective if that's what is needed. If emotions are still high…” They closed their eyes and inhaled deeply, centering themself.

When their eyelids opened once more, their irises shined with unshed tears, “We went from being attached at the hip, from platonic soulmates that had finally found each other despite the vastness of the universe, from best-friends turned siblings, into people who didn't acknowledge the other's existence…”

Carlin’s voice became small; a dramatic contrast from their larger-than-life personality. “I stopped waiting. I stopped expecting you to reach out. I accepted that our lives had veered us in opposite directions.” Their next sigh came from somewhere deep within their soul, “Space is the last thing I needed, Isadora. I needed my best friend.”

Well. Isadora had to do her very best not to burst into tears in the middle of this quiet cafe. Carlin's use of past tense ignited a fear that she had missed her chance.

Desperately, she opened her mouth and let the words fall out as they pleased. Carlin and Isadora had always found honesty easy. “I ask your parents how you're doing whenever I can,” she said. “I thought about reaching out to you years ago, but I couldn't string the words together. Then the time got longer and longer until I figured you'd forgotten me and it wasn't worth trying. My message was a desperate plea - it felt like sending a message in a bottle and tossing it into the ocean, hoping it'd wash up on your shore…”

Carlin had not yet responded in any way, so Isadora powered through. “I thought about you every day, Carlin. You're my best friend - my sibling in every way but legal and blood. I thought our bond could withstand anything, even if our active friendship didn't.”

She squeezed her eyes shut in preparation for what she needed to say next. “I know it was you who told my mum everything. I know you sent her everything I shared in confidence with you.”

Carlin had frozen, their eyes wide.

Isadora swallowed around the lump in her throat, “It destroyed me. I know it happened so long ago, but your betrayal was fucking world-ending.”

Carlin opened their mouth to speak, seemingly ready to launch into a defense. The brunette cut them off. “I know, I know. You were worried about me. About my safety. You were trying to help. I just - it wasn't even about you telling her, in the end. It wasn't even about your actions…”

Isadora chewed on her lips momentarily before allowing them to open once more. “It was what you didn't do, Carlin. That's what killed me. I had to find out, from my mother of all people, years later, that it was YOU who made my world crumble when I was already at my lowest. You watched silently as I detached from my high school friends because I figured that they were the ones to blame. You agreed with me to my face. You listened to and supported me through the breakdown of whatever had remained of the relationship between my mother and I. Never, in my wildest dreams, would I have ever suspected you. I still struggle to accept that you did all this and chose not to tell me a single thing. That you chose to let my life and relationships fall apart. I thought we were honest with each other, and that's what destroyed me.”

Isadora wiped away a rebellious tear with a sniff, “It took a few years for me to process this. Hence the lack of contact - on top of my general social ineptitude. I finally got over it enough to reach out again, but based on our conversation, I failed that, too.”

“Oh,” Carlin's voice was soft.

“Yeah,” Isadora replied.

The two sat in an awkward silence for a long moment.

Isadora slid her eyes to get a look at her friend through her peripheral view. They really did look exhausted. Maybe this moment of honesty was the perfect time to finally address a burning topic.

“Your parents told me about your new boyfriend. They told me you have to pay his rent because he can't keep a job… You shouldn't let him do that,” Isadora stated in a rush.

She knew instantly that this was the wrong thing to say when Carlin's eyes shuttered, blocking her out once more.

"Oh, and you're going to tell him to stop?" they seethed. “I don't need another parent, Dora.”

Isadora figured she looked quite pathetic if only one glance from Carlin softened their demeanour ever so slightly.

“Look, Dora,” they sighed, “we're not how we used to be. And to be perfectly honest, I didn't always love your attempts at parenting me even when we were close. So, now? My relationship is DEFINITELY out of bounds, okay?”

The napkin that had wandered into Isadora’s hands now lay in pieces on the wooden bench. Her heart, for the record, also now lay in pieces within her chest. She managed to utter a small affirmative sound.

“I'm not saying we don't have a chance of rebuilding a relationship. We just - we can't just jump straight back in to how it used to be. It may never be like it used to be.” They shrugged, “We need to take it slow and hope we can become friends again naturally.”

Isadora nodded - a jolted, jerky motion in the wake of her sudden grief. She gathered her bag and swept the napkin remnants into her cupped hand.

She stood from her stool and stared down at Carlin, "Tell me to stay."

Carlin squeezed their eyes shut and looked away. Their voice was thick with emotion when they finally uttered, "I wish I could."

Isadora walked out of the cafe door as her world crumbled around her once again.

© O.M.A

"I wrote to you."

"I know. But you never said what I needed you to say."

[ghostickle]

Since this blog is just a public diary at this point here’s how my life is going rn;

As we all know I’m living in a friends closet, literally. And I Had finally gotten a job after like two months but then Those Cunts managed to convince me they weren’t so shitty and after only like a week and a half at the new job they got me thinking about moving back there where I don’t have to walk so far in the dark for work and where there’s always clean running water and where my puppy is. I thought I was going to quit the job I had just gotten to go back then last night they have me FaceTime them literally doing this shit like it’s an interview and it’s supposed to be my parents and they’re talking about if I’m allowed back saying I act like a toddler that I’m a liar and I’m “putting them in danger” by telling my friends what’s going on and leaving their house and they start saying how they’ll kick me out if they decide they don’t like something I do or say at any moment and all the same shit they tried to pull before I left and I, now heavily dissociated and realizing I fucked up trusting them, realize I can’t go back what the fuck was I thinking but I already had gone too far. I had to leave the job I just got that I really liked after only two weeks because I trusted them and I lost everything I spent two months working for and I have to start all over again

[apocalympdicks]

my tumblr bios a liar im fucking 25

(no one believes me irl cuz im 4'11 & im visibly autistic)

[ridher]

rafe cameron too fine i wanna squish his cheeks til he's mad

you adored your boyfriend — yes, we're talking about the same person. though he wasn't much different from the reputation you'd heard all too much about, now he was yours.

so when he comes home from whatever errands he had to run around the town for that day, you're already mulling about the cameron mansion — something not so uncommon in the few months you'd been together.

a loud click of the front door slamming shut echos through the long, empty halls and almost instantly reaches your ears. you know who it is based on the aggressiveness of the person's footsteps.. and because you were periodically checking life360 with an impatient biting of your acrylics.

yet, you don't move from where you're curled up on a spacious couch in the living room despite how badly you want to see him — he can take some initiative sometimes.

so it startles you slightly when he plops down beside you with a heavy sigh through his nose, having silently found you and entered the room without you even realizing.

tilting your head to look up at him all wide-eyed, his gaze is glued stoically to the excessively huge television across the room playing whatever you'd been mindlessly binge-watching.

you shuffle closer, disregarding the blanket that slips off your bare legs while doing so — something he doesn't miss out of the corner of his eye.

he softens up only slightly when you lay your head against his bicep and curl up at his side, following his gaze to focus back on the show though his presence clouds your thoughts.

as if it's such a chore, he wraps the arm around you and your head slumps to his chest, suddenly all smiley at the warm feeling of his hand across your back — slipping under your baby tee through the bit of skin it exposes.

you look back up at him again to find the grumpy boy already staring down at you, any hint of affection hidden from his expression at being caught admiring his girl. but, you're already smiling sweetly at the sight of a flush across his face to which he redirects his attention from you.

giggling, you reach your hands up to cup his face and sit up slightly to be partially on his lap and face him. his reaction is an immediate furrow of his brows and a frown tugs at his lips, tensing while trying to lean away. but you don't let him — instead holding his cheeks and squeezing gently as you would a child.

eventually, rafe grabs your wrists and pulls your hands away, clearly displeased by your act of babying towards him — he's a man, after all. debating with himself while glancing across your happy little face, he digresses and pulls you against him with the grip he had on your arms.

you just giggle again and cuddle up against his torso, grabbing at the hem of his shirt to cling to him more acceptably in the opinion of rafe.

he shakes his head to himself and looks down at you with the most subtle of smirks, one hand going to the back of your thigh right under the curve of your backside and the other firmly against the back of your head, long fingers spreading through your hair.

"shiiit," rafe drawls, thinking over the situation and the pretty girl he's got so obsessed in his lap. he couldn't stay mad.

[all4yoi]

𝒩ot a bet﹕hyung line

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw: each member ranges from 5-1k wc, fluff, lowercase intended, they swear, crying, uh someone kneels, not proud w heejake's 😞, not proofread ( lmk if i missed something! )

sypnosis : upon learning that you were merely the stake in a bet, they wasted no time in mending your relationship.

part one !

★ LEE HEESEUNG ( 0.8k wc )

"y/n wait!"

heeseung's voice only made you walk faster. you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by stopping and talking to him. all you wanted to do now was to just march out of the school, go home, lock yourself in your room and maybe eat a tub of ice cream while you ugly cry yourself to sleep.

"y/n, please." heeseung pleaded, taking your elbow in his grasp as he spun you around and pulling you closer to the point you can feel his breath on fanning your nose.

he looked at you pleadingly. "it's okay," you managed to say in a shaky voice. "i understand, you can all laugh at me all you want now-" he shook his head, "it's okay really!" you added, pursing your lips.

"i just want to be left alone now okay?" and even if he knew you didn't mean just 'now.' he'll respect your wishes and let you go, but he won't give up.

heeseung watched you walk away from him with a heavy heart, wanting nothing but to just explain everything to you before it was too late. he couldn't lose you, not like this.

when he couldn't see your figure anymore, he messily messed his hair and made his way back to the gym eager to teach a guy how to not spit nonsense.

it's been a week since that happened and a week since he's seen you in the school. he asked some of your classmates and club members but all he received were nasty glares and short cold answers. what happened between the two of you spread like wild fire the following day you walked away from him. everyone knew you were kind of a nerd, but they also knew you were a complete angel and had a heart soft as a pillow.

they also knew that betting on a person's feeling isn't exactly it. — more under the cut!

so throughout that week too, his popularity decreased day by day. he used to receive heart eyes on the hallways and joyful 'good morning, heeseung!'s by random students, now all he received were judgemental glances and they avoided him like a plague, scared to be the next target of a cruel bet.

he didn't care though, all he cared about was your wellbeing. it's been a week and you've still yet to show up to class, so imagine his surprise when you suddenly walk in to the room with your usual hair do, your bag slung over on your shoulder and your glasses almost falling off your nose bridge.

he sat up straighter, gulping as his eyes followed your every move. he could feel hear heart beating louder, as if it was calling for you, desperate to be near you again.

he needed to fix this, asap.

it felt like forever before heeseung heard the bell ring. as soon as he heard the annoying sound, he messily packed up his things and ran after you.

"y/n!" your forearm was then again grabbed by him. although this time, he turned you slowly. heeseung silently admired your face. he missed you so much.

"let me explain, please. it's not what you think. i promise." he whispered, vulnerability in his tone. the simple nod you gave was his signal to interlace his fingers with yours as he looked for an empty room.

you ignored the looks everyone threw your way, either worried and judging. all you could focus on was his warm hand on yours and how you missed it so much, you didn't even realize you both were now inside an empty classroom.

"there was no bet." you furrowed your brows, looking at him with mixed confusion and frustration. "i promise, there was no bet."

"why would they say that then?"

"i don't know, but i promise there's no bet. throughout the months we've been together everything i've said was real." he said, desperate.

heeseung stepped closer.

"what i felt for you was real," he scrambled to get his phone from his pocket, opening his messages app. "you can go through my phone all you want, ask any of my friends-" you raised a brow.

"not those friends! i mean sunghoon, jay, jungwon.. you know." your raised brow made him sputter. "to be completely honest, they've been ignoring me after they heard about what happened.."

you looked at him hesitantly as you scrolled through his messages with shaking hands. you scrolled for so long, you even reached to the messages months before you both got together.

he didn't have any messages to his basketball team group chat unless it was announcements from his coach. the group chat with his actual friends were only filled with his pining over 'the girl on the back of his biology class.'

"heeseung.."

"there's no bet, baby. i'd never do that to anyone." he whispered, stepping closer. "i can't lose you like this.. i love you."

you sniffled as you came crashing on his chest, letting tears fall again. heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, sighing in relief as he finally have you back in his arms.

"i was so worried baby." he mumbled, kissing your head.

"i love you forever. i'll kill everyone who tries to get in between us again," heeseung pulled you closer if it was even possible.

"and if they do, i'll make sure to fix everything even if it means the whole world would hate me."

★ PARK JONGSEONG ( 1.0k wc )

jay was confused.

the both of you had a very well planned date tonight, so he was utterly puzzled to see that you weren't responding to his messages. for heaven's sake, you didn't even read his messages, he was just left in delivered.

he had tried calling multiple times but was only met with your automated voice telling him to leave a voice message. it came to the point that he had enough and decided to drive to your house.

throughout the drive, jay wondered what could've happened. he couldn't think of anything that would make you upset like this, he hoped that you just fell asleep and forgot to have your alarm on.

walking up the porch of your house, jay rang the doorbell and was met with your mom who opened the door with furrowed brows when she laid her eyes on him.

"good afternoon mrs. l/n, is y/n home?" your mother's frown deepened, hesitantly looking at the stairs behind her before looking back at him. "i'm sorry jay, she said she doesn't want to see you?"

that caused jay to furrow his brows as well. "wha- may i ask why?"

"i was hoping you'd tell me." if jay was confused a while ago, he was even more confused now and frustrated.

"can i see her, please?" he pleads, the older woman hesitantly opened the door wider to invite him in, and before he could ascend up the stairs, your mom stopped him.

"jay.." he looked back. "i don't know what happened to you both but take it easy on her, alright? she's been crying, i can tell." jay gulped and only nodded, sending your mom a pursed smile.

he knocked on your bedroom door, when no response came, he tried to turn the knob and was thankful that it wasn't locked.

jay slowly opened your door, seeing you curled on one corner of your bed as your body shook from your sobs you tried to keep silent.

he could feel his heart break at the sight. stepping a foot inside the room, he mentally cursed at himself when he accidentally bumped on to your mirror causing your head to shoot up in alarm at the sound.

your already glassy eyes was once again filled with tears as your eyes met his. jay barely dodged the pillow you threw at him, screaming at him to "go away and never show your face to me again."

jay frowned and came closer until he was sat on the edge of your bed, ignoring the words you just shouted at him.

"baby.. what's- what's wrong?" he asked, attempting to hold your hand but you retracted it and tried to throw another pillow at him. he swiftly caught it and brought it back down gently beside you.

"was it worth the one month of free car wash?" you spat through hiccups. jay stayed silent, confused.

"of course it probably was, that's what you do right?" the sight of your swollen and red face kept breaking his heart, he was still confused on what you were talking about but he'll let you talk.

this way he knew how he'd make things better.

"make me fall in love with you in exchange of a month's free of car wash.." you muttered, your eyes still boring on to his. at your words, it finally clicked. "..am i really worth just that much?" another sob.

right, he had forgotten to end the call when his 'friend' came barging into his apartment. you had probably heard all the nonsense the guy sputtered.. but surely you must've heard the way he defended your relationship and swore at that him too?

"i thought.. high school days were done jay. please just leave me alone now. you got what you want." jay shook his head, coming closer and pulling your body to his.

he wrapped his arms around you, his hand rubbing your back as you sobbed hard. he didn't try stopping you when he felt your weak punches that you threw at his chest, his own tears clouding his vision but he didn't dare make them fall.

"you got it all wrong, baby." he whispered, rubbing your nape as your face now rested against the crook of his neck. he ignored the wetness there. "i'm guessing you overheard the conversation with sungjae?"

you nodded, now calmer but not pulling away.

"did you also hear the way i told him to drop the stupid bet he kept insisting to happen? the way i kicked him out of my apartment?" you stayed silent, only sniffling as a response.

jay sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist tighter and pulling you closer.

"the whole campus knows sungjae's an asshole, baby. he was a jerk who thought that being a dick to others were entertaining, and i guess that's why i was like that back in high school.. i wanted to be accepted in their group."

"but we're in college now, i left that group but somehow sungjae's here and is pathetically still stuck in the past." he pulled your face from his neck, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears.

"i've loved you since high school.. and there's no bet, baby. the moment he had found out i was dating you, he kept bringing up a bet about how long we would last.. but i always shut him out, told him to cut it out and that there will be no bet happening, especially if you're the one getting betted on."

new fresh tears come rolling down your cheek, this time they were tears of relief. glad to know that everything was real, that you weren't just a toy.

"you promise you'll cut him off starting now?" you whispered, looking at him with big glassy eyes.

"i've cut him since high school, y/n. it's him who's keep clinging to me. but i promise he won't be saying anything about the both of us anymore." jay pressed your foreheads together, pressing a soft peck on your lips.

"you will forever be the prettiest and the only one i'll ever love this much in this world, my baby."

★ SIM JAEYUN ( 0.5k wc )

jake watched you run away in confusion, staring at the laughing crowd and turning to look at your locker only to be met with the note he has been telling everyone to throw away.

he angrily took it from your locker, ripping the small paper into pieces. "how many times have i told you to cut this shit out? do you want me to report all of you for harassment and bullying?" he raised his voice at the crowd who had stopped their laughter.

"that's what i thought." he frowned, pushing past them and running after you.

jake knew what everyone was doing the moment it spread that he was dating you. he had received dms telling him he could do better and if he was merely toying with your feelings.

he had told them countless times to drop it, even going far as to almost punch the person who has created the bets if it wasn't for sunoo holding him back. he had hoped that it wouldn't reach you. it was another one of his reasons on why he always went to school earlier, just in case it was placed on your locker. unfortunately, you were earlier than him today.

it's not like he was tolerating it, he had tried countless times to report it but they'd only say it was probably only for fun and he shouldn't take jokes seriously.

but jokes were meant to be funny, right?

jake opened the door that lead to the rooftop slowly, peeking his head to look if you were there. to his luck, you were.

your back faced him while your bag was placed down carelessly beside your feet. jake approached slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you further.

"baby?" he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. you turned your head towards him, showing him your tear stained cheeks. "oh, y/n." he sighed and held your cheeks, wiping away the salty liquid off your precious face.

"jake.. why are you dating me, of all people?" you ask through tears, avoiding his eyes.

jake's eyes softened, he dated you because you were different from everyone who wanted to be like the everyone else, did that make sense? you were your own person, you didn't care about social status, wealth, his circle of friends, and whether someone was good looking or not. you were soft hearted, to the point that you had let others take advantage of that leading them to walking all over you.

and he hated that.

"why not you?" he said softly, tilting your chin up so that you could meet his eyes. "you're everything i've ever needed."

"you can tell the truth." you mutter, looking at jake. his mouth formed a pout, heart broken at the way you had so little love for yourself.

"i am telling the truth, baby." he whispers, taking your hands and placing them on his face before putting his own hands back on yours. "everything is a joke to them when i'm involved." you whisper, ignoring the way your voice broke.

"we don't care about what they think, they're all just jealous. everything we've been through and what i feel for you are real, no jokes." he smiled, pulling you closer to him.

"you promise?"

"baby i'd choose you over anyone in this world over and over again until the heavens above is tired of me."

★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.7k wc)

sunghoon frowned, confused and hurt. he wanted to fix whatever happened, so he took his phone from the couch and his car keys from the wooden bowl in his foyer.

it was when he was in the elevator that he noticed his phone was open. his breath hitched, finally knowing the reason for your departure and choice of words. sunghoon quickly left the group chat and started dialing your number.

it was true that you were a bet. were. he didn't even know why he agreed, maybe because he wanted so badly to fit in. he didn't want a repeat of middle school, so instead of being the bullied and made fun of, he was now the one doing those to others. he wasn't proud of it at the slightest.

that doesn't excuse his actions though. the longer he spent time with you, the deeper he fell. sunghoon never planned for you to find out this way, he already had a plan. first he had to get rid of his 'friends', tell you everything then ask you if you still wanted him to meet your parents.

guilt always ate him alive whenever you would stay over and sleep by his side. he couldn't bring himself to meet your family knowing he hasn't told you everything and the truth.

he felt like his heart would jump out of his chest as he stood infront of the door of your house. if he died tonight on the hands of either your father or older brother, he'd welcome death with open arms.

i deserve it.

he audibly gulped when the door opened, revealing.. you. the way your brows furrowed at the sight of him tightened his chest. he stopped you before you could even close the door on him.

"y/n please, let me explain everything.. o-okay?" the way his voice cracked and the unshed tears in his eyes almost made you give in, but upon remembering what you've read, the anger in you was back.

"explain what?" you spat, turning to look over your shoulder before back at him. "that all those months i've spent loving you," you pointed at him harshly. "was just for entertainment? tell me, what was in it for you, huh?"

sunghoon shook his head, the tears now flowing down his pale cheeks. "no, no! i promise, please i love you." he reached out but you stepped back, biting your lip as you held back the tears.

"just.. leave me alone sunghoon," he felt his heart crack even more. "you've had your fun, you can laugh about i all you want now." you were taken aback when he knelt infront of you, hugging your waist as he sobbed.

"what the-" sunghoon tightened his grip on you, muttering along the words of 'im sorry', 'never meant to be like this', and something along the lines of regretting something.

"sunghoon- oh my god." you groaned as you descended to face him. "please, i didn't mean to. i-" he hiccuped, "i'm sorry, i know it was stupid and there's no reason for me to accept the bet- but i just wanted to fit in. i wanted them to take me as a part of their circle- but, but i soon realized that it was stupid." he looked at you with swollen eyes, desperation swam in his dark irises.

"because i realized that hurting you isn't worth being a part of their asshole group. it started with a bet, i admit, but i truly love you, please believe me." a sob made its way out his throat as he clung into you, his arms circling your neck. "it wasn't a lie whenever i said i'd meet your parents, i was constantly trying to get rid of them first before i met your family, i didn't want to meet them until i've told you the complete truth."

your own tears descended down your cheeks, your heart hurting for yourself and sunghoon. you stayed on the floor wrapped around each other for a moment before you both helped each other up to your feet, he looked at you intensely with red bloodshot eyes. "i'm sorry, i understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore."

"i understand hoon," you whispered, bringing your hands to cup his face. "but you have to understand too that i can't trust you fully right up again." he nodded, putting his own hands on yours as he kissed your palms.

"i know.. and i'll spent the rest of my life earning it again. i love you."

— ౨ৎ thank u for tuning in ! @j-jinxee @slp23 @unsurereader @heelovesmeknot @sunshine-skz @hoondrop @jooniesbears-blog @jordan1024 @heeswif3y @outroherrr @harufluff @cheeseball0 @yjwluver @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @itjengirl @emiliasstuffs-blog @isa942572 @lufcxx @alienqbrain @woniebae @baekxo07 @titttuaf @chuuswifereal @kyanmeai @isabellah29 @deezbin @skzenhalove @eneiyri @a4ruby @saxytalks @denleave1088 @imdelulu @powerpuffstuts @hoonatic @dollydigital @chososloverfr @dummyf @chanyeolchannie @oddracha @wonwushu @strawberrynull @ceciloveshee @loumin908 @cexg68 @grassbutneo @gardenwons @pag-yerin @bora04 @iluvnikism @jellymiki

— i couldn't tag those who's usernames aren't in bold :(

[delicioushottubpeanut]

♡ babysitter

oneshot - inspired by that one edit

fandom: five nights at freddys (movie)

paring: mike schmidt x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, dry humping, sexual tension, kissing, friends to lovers, cumming in pants, submissive mike, foul language, teasing, smut, riding, dom reader, consensual sex, age gap, minors dni..

You've heard a lot about him from Abby, mainly bits and pieces that she's told you, but nothing really about him and the only thing he really says to you is that he's eventually going to pay you back. But you always refuse.

The old couch squeaks softly as he sits beside you, a gentle hand goes to reach your face but hesitates.

He’s been very busy for a while now that he has started his new job at a security guard that was shut down ages ago. When he comes home he's always so tired, like he's a different person. As if he cannot relax. You hear the door open and slam back as it he closes it.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you come back.." You whisper, groaning whilst you move out of the position you had been in for a while. Yawning as you gently wipe your eyes.

Mike looks at you, half-smiling as he leans against the cushions. He's tired, you can tell. "Sorry if I woke you, you looked exhausted, so I just wanted to cover you," he whispers back, stretching his arms. "Did Abby go okay for you?" he asks.

"I told her it's bedtime an hour ago, but you know how it is with little ones." You joke.

"Abby was great, she missed you, though.." You smile sheepishly, shifting on the coach to face him. "How was work?" You ask, seeing the slight bags under his eyes.

Mike chuckles softly, leaning his head back and letting out a deep sigh as he stares up at the ceiling.

"It was long," he sighs. "I mean, I've gotten used to it, of course, but god, it's draining..." He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, looking off to the side and fiddling with his fingers, trying to find the right words to explain what just happened at work. He seems hesitant to say.

"You okay? You can talk to me if something is bothering you." Hesitantly placing your hand on his shoulder, slowly forcing him to look at you. You've known him for years due to babysitting Abby, but he's never opened up.

"Well... it's just..." Mike sighs again, still not meeting your eyes. "...Abby asked me some questions about stuff today."

He rubs the back of his neck, shifting in his seat as if he's about to say something and then thinks better of it. He leans back against the coach, letting out a frustrated grunt as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. "I... I just can't tell her."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" You whisper, staring at him, waiting for a response.

Mike's face softens a little, looking over at you before he sighs, shaking his head. "It's nothing. Abby asked about the job, and... well, it got me thinking..." He shrugs his shoulders again, still looking off to the side.

"Look, I'll tell Abby about it myself, I don't... I shouldn't put it on you..." He sighs one again, staring at the floor.

"If you need me, don't hesitate." You place your hand on his thigh, squeezing it for reassurance. Gaining confidence, you slowly move your body off the couch and sit on his lap.

"Oh..." Mike says quietly, his face turning bright red as you place your hand on his thigh. He looks down at you, his expression of uncertainty on his face changing as his eyebrows rise.

He's speechless, frozen in shock at your touch, and his entire face is practically bright pink. He's suddenly a lot warmer, his chest heaving as his heartbeat picks up speed. "... Y- you're..." he says with the last of his breath, his brain having trouble finding the right words to say.

"Is this okay..?" You grind against his lap, whispering against his ear.

"Shit..." He stammers, his brain desperately trying to process what you're doing. He looks confused, his eyes drifting down to you as his mind races.

"What... what are you... n- no, it's... we can't..." Mike stutters, trying to find a way to reject you. But the longer you're in his lap, the harder it is for him to say no.

"Just relax, Abby is fast asleep in her room.." You grind harder against him, using your index finger to tilt his chin up, making eye contact when you suddenly hear him whimper.

"T- this isn't the time..." he mumbles in response, his eyes closing at the sensation and his whimpers becoming more noticeable.

"W- we shouldn't be doing this..." he whispers, his arms hesitating in the air for a moment before they eventually wrap around your waist. He's still torn between going along with it or saying no, his heart racing as he gazes at you.

"Beg for me to continue." You stop moving your hips, feeling his arousal throb against your ass. Wanting to see how he would react.

"P- please... God.." he whispers, the breath catching in his throat and his voice turning raspy.

He looks at you, his eyes pleading, his body quivering under your control. His heart is pounding out of his chest. He swallows, looking up at you as his entire body screams for you to keep going while his mind fights back.

"You can do better than that.." You tease, breathing against his neck, gently creating bruises as you feel his slightly breath hitch.

Mike whimpers loudly when he feels your bites, his muscles tensing as he tries to relax.

"H- I- please, don't stop..." he murmurs hoarsely, sounding completely different than you've ever heard before. He whimpers again, his head tilted back as he tries to hide the pleasure in his face. He can't believe what he's doing, but he can't turn away.

"Good boy.." Slowly reaching to take off your top, revealing your covered breasts as you start to grind against him, pushing your panties to the side, creating a wet spot on his jeans.

Mike looks down at you, taking in the view as your top is removed, his face getting even pinker as his heart races.

He swallows nervously in response to your wetness, his eyes trailing down your body before they eventually turn back to your face. His cheeks are bright red, his breathing heavy as he glances back down at you, looking into your eyes as you look into his. He takes a long, drawn-out breath, his entire body quivering with anticipation.

"Just take what you want, Mike, no one is stopping you.." You tease, eagerly watching his reaction.

"I- it's..." Mike starts to say, but he can't say no to you, not right now. He leans back, pushing himself deeper into you like he can't help himself, the breath catching in his throat as he takes in the sensation. His eyes are closed as he tries to ignore his own morals.

His eyes snap open, his lips parted as he whispers, "More.."

"You close?" Whispering seductively, moving harder as you feel your climax coming fast.

"Oh, god..." Mike breathes out, his face red, and his eyes roll back into his head. He moans, bucking his hips up against you, feeling himself come close to release as he cums in his pants, feeling you come down from your high.

[dior-luxury]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐀𝐬 𝐀 𝐉𝐨𝐤𝐞

( ✧ ) ────── 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 . 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 - 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 .

- [𝐜𝐡.] TOP6 . rin itoshi . karasu tabito . otoya eita . yukimiya kenyu . nagi seishiro . shidou ryusei - [𝐩:𝐬] subtle jealousy.

#Rin Itoshi

Rin doesn't have a good experience when it comes to telling people how he feels. And it's even more shocking that you managed to wow him enough for him to like you. He, himself, didn't want to admit that he liked you because he didn't want to feel weak. And he believes that if he shows emotion towards you, you'll end up finding him weird. Which is the opposite of what you'd prefer.

He'd try to push himself to talk to you at least once when he realized that he liked you. Whether that'd be a snarky remark of his, or a back-handed compliment. You can imagine his surprise when he finds out that you don't find him weird. Since he's used to everyone in his life hating him in some way.

So when one day, he gets enough courage to talk to you and ask if you want to go on a date, looking to the side as he tries to calm himself down and talk to you. To his surprise, you think he's joking.

He looks at you with semi-shocked eyes. Do you think he's joking? It shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. He overthinks his actions and looks at you confused.

Joking? He surely definitely isn't joking. He's serious. Why else would he come out of his way to ask you something as important as a date? Rin just doesn't get it.

"𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐛𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮."

He said confidently exaggerating 'like' heavily. He views your relationship with him seriously and wouldn't ever dream about being unserious with you.

#Karasu Tabito

It's not that hard for him to like someone. Just as long as you stand out to him. Which is very hard for anyone to do. At first, he didn't know how he felt about you, he liked talking to you but didn't understand why he thought about you 24/7. Until he realized that he liked you.

Suddenly whenever he talked to you he talked to you more and began to become more friendly around you, in a way. Karasu never really wanted to tell you that he liked you, fearing that he would mess up your guys' relationship. So instead he just kept his feelings aside.

But that's not what he wanted. Whenever he talked to you he felt like he had to tell you then and there that he liked you... but he couldn't. He just doesn't leave the thought of you being creeped out alone.

He compares himself to you and feels mediocre. Like he doesn't deserve to look at you. From the outside, he seems so confident.

When Karasu finally had the confidence it was when you and him were walking together. There was a long silence when he said he liked you. A long silence that made him regret his actions.

His eyes opened wide when you asked if he was making fun of you. Just like Rin, he values his relationships seriously, it would be a curse if he didn't. Luckily he quickly shot that thought of yours down.

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐚'𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰?"

#Otoya Eita

Otoya doesn't have a good history regarding feelings for people. Especially girls. One day he'll say that you guys are friends, the next day he'll act like you don't exist. He's used to brushing people off to the side whenever he feels like it.

He's known not to take relationships seriously. And would only keep talking to you if you're the one going for it. Or he'll recycle you, and move on to the next person. Claiming he only wants exciting people.

Otoya has done this his whole life, and he doesn't even recognize when he likes someone. Which led to him getting hurt, for a reason he doesn't understand. You're supposed to mean nothing to him. Why does he care about you?

He questions himself for a moment, but quickly ignores himself to go up and talk to you.

Otoya wouldn't try as much when it comes to someone he likes. But will sneak glances at you often, claiming that you're distracting him. And would blame you for making him fall for you.

But when he tells you that he likes you, he already knows what is going to happen. You're confused, taken aback, and hesitant. Not like he's not used to it. He finds people being skeptical around him whenever he says he likes them.

But in the back of his head, he knows that you mean something to him. And wants to have you to himself.

Yet, you are hesitant about how he truly feels about it. You don't want to be used, he knows that. And he says to himself that he'll never use you, and will try to make you see that.

"𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐞? 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬."

#Nagi Seishiro

He doesn't know why he likes you. Nagi just thinks of you as a normal person that he talks to sometimes. He stays the same around you as he does for other people, chill, and easygoing. But for you, he may sometimes look at you when you're talking to him.

Nagi often asks Reo to talk to you for him, for many different reasons why. However, he often claims that he's lazy and doesn't want the hassle to get up. And it's true, but he's just worried about how you'll think of him.

Nagi views you as out of his league and wants Reo to help him get with you. Often when he commands Reo to do stuff, like ask you what your favorite games are. He watches from afar watching you two talk.

He hopes that one day he'll end up talking to you, one-on-one, without feeling that small feeling of nervousness he gets. So why not get Reo to do all the talking?

But one day he was feeling different, and he wanted to talk to you himself. He built up the confidence and heard all of the conversations you and Reo had, which helped him get a feel of how you acted and your vibes.

Though he knew he wasn't as outgoing as him, he believed he could do this. He tucked his arm behind his head and said that he liked you, out loud confidently.

To his surprise, you thought he was joking. Nagi's eyes opened wide and his arm dropped a little. What did Reo say her? He said in his head. Wondering how he should go about this.

He took a deep breath and wondered how he should manage to convey how felt this time.

"𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭."

#Yukimiya Kenyu

Yukimiya understands his feelings very well, and others too. He often takes a calm approach when it comes to discussions about people's feelings. Just as long as they're not related to soccer. Yuki never really had a crush on someone besides when he was little.

But he did often look at people and realized how pretty they were, just like with you.

When Yukimiya first saw you he figured you were also a model just like him. He was so enamored by your appearance that he knew he had to talk to you.

He focused on every single detail about you, but never told you that because he didn't want to be creepy. But instead showed it through his long glances at your face.

Often complemented with a nice smile of his.

Yukimiya knows he likes you, and he accepts it. But it would be a long while till he gets the courage to say it, in fear of rejection. So he plans out a list of what to do before he breaks that ice and tells you his true feelings.

He takes a slow breath in and smiles as he tells you about his feelings. And how much he likes you... But it backfired for him. You weren't so used to people being this nice to you, getting you questioning.

Yukimiya realizes this and instead tries to show you through actions. Showing that he is serious and would never dream about faking it.

"𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲."

#Shidou Ryusei

Shidou has zero experience when it comes to having a crush. He's not experienced when it comes to liking someone besides how cool they are. He even surprised himself that he managed to find someone that he genuinely liked.

But he doesn't know what to do. Of course, he can go up to you and be all flirty with you, that's him without self-control, and speaking 'self-control', he has zero.

He "tries" to control himself somewhat, because he doesn't want to scare you too bad. So Shidou decides that he'll just 'try' and get along with you normally. He does have a lot of determination to make this work for you and him.

At first, he'll just come off as really "bold and cool" he says, and then slowly let you see how funny he is. Not only for him to get close to you, but to see if you guys would have chemistry.

And when he's finally fully comfortable with you, and sure that you guys could work together. He'll tell you he likes you.

Of course, it comes as a surprise for you, that he likes you. You can't help but feel it is just one of his jokes again. But little do you know he is serious about liking you.

His expression doesn't change when you question him on his feelings. He knew it was going to happen, Shidou instead just listens to you and hears you out.

But after your done questioning him, a large smirk comes on his face and he puts his face close to yours.

"𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲, 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮?"

[cloudystevie]

How would bucky react to his wife being known as a milf😭 jealous or proud

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆.

warnings: pda, possessiveness, you and bucky are married and have a 3 year old son😊 and no actual smut but some allusions to it

author’s note: i think he’d be a mix of both but he only knows how to be possessive about it!!! sorry if this is not what you wanted but it is unfortunately the way my mind worked😓

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆.

18+ only minors dni.

Bucky’s not blind. He knows you’re beautiful inside and out and how your energy reflects on everything you do. The kindness in your heart and the serenity in your soul attract people to you. The fact that you’re the most gorgeous person on the planet is just a little added bonus.

This Saturday afternoon is spent shopping for a new summer wardrobe for your three-year-old son and maybe snagging a couple of cute pieces for yourself.

Bucky completely clears his schedule every weekend without fail to devote time to you and your child together. This one starts with a brunch. You are dressed up all sweet and pretty for him in a dainty white sundress, enhancing your body in all the best ways. You look breathtaking, and Bucky hasn’t been able to keep his hands off you. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to behave for the rest of the day until he can get you back into the bed.

You seem to have caught the attention of the young waiter, whose pale skin grows a splotchy red every time you thank him for his service. He stutters out a thank you, boldly initiating eye contact but quickly darting away when Bucky sits up just a little bit straighter, a little bit taller.

Later, after a successful shopping trip, you hold back a giggle as your son darts around the playground while you are seated next to Bucky on the bench.

“What’s so funny, baby?” he furrows his eyebrows, still a bit peeved at how the sales associate at the previous boutique you three visited wanted to set you up with her son. Showing you pictures and talking him up. Bucky was busy on the other end of the store, letting your son wander around to burn off more energy. His ears perked up at your conversation with the older lady. He argues that what he did was not petty or childish in the slightest, but the way he all but stalked over to you just to place a possessive hand on your waist and an almost vulgar kiss on your lips had the poor lady coughing in discomfort as she quickly busied herself with folding clothes.

Then suddenly, your son appeared and began poking at your calf, “Mama, can we go now?” While you remained breathless with your cheeks burning, Bucky quickly snatched him up, kissing his forehead before leading you two out of the boutique. A few minutes later, you’re in the car, and your son gets your attention from the backseat. " Mama, mama!” you reply, turning around as Bucky pulls out of the parking spot. " Yes, baby?”

“Dada said we have to save you from the monster lady! He said she was going to steal you from us! Did we safe you, mama? " His chubby face is twisted in concern.

You looked at Bucky with narrow eyes, a light smile tugging at your lips: " Yeah, baby, you saved me. Thank god I have you and Dada to protect me!” Bucky just had a smug smile on his face, not at all ashamed of what he had done. Your son giggled in agreement, no longer concerned and instead focused on the cars passing by. You fiddled with Bucky’s fingers on your thigh as you admired him while he was driving when he leisurely brought your hand to his face, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand.

“Nothing,” you giggle, watching your son run around the slide instead of sliding down it, “I just think it’s cute how jealous you get.” Your voice has a teasing lilt as you look up at him, playfully squishing his cheeks together. Bucky rolls his eyes, his hand grabbing your wrist gently to easily remove it from his face as he moves your hand to trace over the diamond ring adorning your ring finger. With a slight smirk, he brings your hand up to kiss your ring finger, intertwining your hands and looking at you with a glint in his eyes.

He brings his face closer to yours, lips hovering but not touching as he speaks lowly, “Our next stop is gonna be a jewelry store. I’m getting you a bigger diamond so everyone knows you’re well taken care of.” He places a peck on your parted lips before turning around and calling for your son, who looks ready for his afternoon nap, as he holds his arms out for Bucky to carry him.

[erinaeris]

Laios Touden and the Responsibility of Power

First off, let me gush just a bit about how fucking STRONK this man is. Olympic weightlifters are dying of sheer envy and lust over this man. He is a FUCKING POWERHOUSE.

My favorite panels ever, and judging by the cropping of the second photo, Tumblr agrees.

AHEM, where was I?

Ah yes. He's not just strong and incredibly hot, my man is literally an invasive species in this dungeon. He knows every single weak spot of every monster Thistle tried to throw at him and when he finds it he just fucking RAMS HIMSELF AT THEM AND TAKES THEM DOWN.

And when he's a dwarf HE LITERALLY BENDS STEEL.

"Beat Namari at arm wrestling"? My boy, she wouldn't let you anywhere near because you'd FUCKING BREAK HER HER HAND ALONG WITH THE TABLE. (It's such a fucking shame we didn't see Senshi at least raising an (perfectly plucked except it just grows that way naturally) eyebrow in the background when he sees this. Alas, he was too distracted by his hair.)

But I mentioned responsibility, didn't I? Strength is power in the dungeon, and we all knows what comes with great power. And Laios is, in fact, very responsible with that power!

(Futther examples under the cut, wee bit spoilers for anime watchers)

This scene lives rent-free in my head forever, because of two things: Thistle suddenly realizing just what the hell he's up against,

And Laios breaking Thistle's arm.

Now, I think Laios didn't mean to actually break his arm here, he's just half-blind and dizzy and knows he has to restrain Thistle or it will all go to shit. So that's what he does. The move you see above is a restraining hold. The point is that the person pinned down can't struggle much because the position of the arm presses the suprascapular nerve, so it hurts a lot, but unless they're held that way for too long they'll be fine.

But Thistle is TINY and elves are generally fine-boned. I think Laios really did just underestimate his strength.

And the moment the dragons aren't an IMMEDIATE THREAT anymore?

Laios heals him. Thistle's a better mage than him by miles, he could have done it himself. But no. Laios does it. He was too rough, too careless with his strength, and he immediately backtracked, fixed what he broke, and continued with more mindfullness.

And these are just the examples that stuck in my mind the most. And it happens often enough that the team isn't even fucking surprised! Laios' strength would 100% scare people who only saw him in a barfight and didn't know anything else about him. Hell, the other adventurers they meet fucking quiver before this guy who just took down a monster they had nightmares about in one blow, up until he opens his mouth and they relax. You put more malevolent software in that sort of hardware and he'd be the next Shadow Governor.

But Laios is Laios. He's a gentle soul at heart (a Great Pyrenese, specifically, the gentlest souls ever unless you're out for their flock) and he is VERY CAREFUL with his strength, ESPECIALLY around his team. Chilchuck, who is literally half his size and underfed to boot, can smack Laios as much as he wants with ZERO fear because Laios is aware he can hurt Chilchuck by literally tripping over him, so he just stays still and lets Chilchuck smack at him. I'd be surprised if he ever managed to leave a bruise. Chilchuck has to aim at Laios' weak spot (back of the knee here) just to get Laios to notice him!

But because I have some experience with marital arts and close combat, I think the fight with Shuro exemplifies my point so fucking well! Laios is HURT here, he's living every autistic person's worst nightmare.

And he HOLDS BACK. His restraint is fucking IMMACULATE.

Shuro is fucking lucky Laios still liked him when he started talking shit, because he would have broken his spine otherwise. Laios doesn't even take the fight seriously! He starts with a fucking SLAP.

Shuro retaliates with an actual punch (that does nothing but piss him off)

Laios wobbles. Shuro HITS THE DIRT.

And this is the part where he realizes just how outside his weight category he is. Shuro definitely has technique on his side, but that means jackshit when you need ten blows to to even bruise your opponent, but one hit from them will leave you drinking through a straw for a week. For a second there, Shuro thought he was in ACTUAL DANGER.

But instead of finishing the job, Laios tries to talk him down, which just sets him off again. Man was at his fucking LIMIT, and it snapped. Self-preservation who?

And the best part is? Shuro is throwing all his strength behind his punches and Laios just takes them, but Laios? He mostly pushed Shuro around!

They're mostly grappling here, precisely because Laios is very conscious his friend is pretty fragile right now.

And when he does have enough?

Shuro is flat on the ground again, and Laios has a black eye and a bloody nose. He sits down and five minutes later he's ready to go! Like yes, Shuro was at a low point here, but he's been mowing through monsters at only a bit slower pace than Laios' party. He's no weakling regardless. And Laios had to HOLD BACK SO HE WOULDN'T HURT HIM. And it's so obvious that Maizuru takes one look at the two of them and leaves them to their toussling.

When I saw her reaction I had to scroll back and take another look, because I was sure she would intervene! But she doesn't! She is aware of Laios' strength, she has to be, and she doesn't lift a finger to help her precious charge. She knows the big dog he's wrestling with knows to watch his strength.

And that's my whole point: my boi is STRONK AF! And he is very aware of his strength, and how he could hurt the people around him is he wasn't careful, so he is ALWAYS CAREFUL. He has deeply internalized the fact that to have strength is to be careful with it, to use it in service of people rather than to hurt them (possibly from his dad). He is going to SUCH a good king! He's not going to like the job but by GOD he will do it really well.

And I will give my right arm to see a fic about the first corrupt lord/governor/courtier who attempts to misuse their authority for their own gain. Kabru's gonna have to talk Laios out of an execution.

[mrsbarnesblog]

first choice

masterlist

requests are open

summary: being an incredibly reserved person, it took Rafe a long time to finally feel comfortable enough to let you see him break down

words count: 2.5k

warnings: hurt/comfort, crying, talk about feelings, Ward being a shitty father as always, insecurities

a/n: couldn't help myself but mention Wheezie as well because she deserves so much better💔

The first time you saw Rafe crying was not so long after you started dating. You went to Tanneyhill that day and were nearly knocked off your feet when Ward Cameron stormed out the front door. He was seething with anger and it seemed like he didn’t even register you standing there with wide eyes and a lost face expression. 

You slowly walked into the house, hearing the sound of Ward’s truck driving away, and slowly patted into the light and big kitchen. Your eyes instantly caught sight of your boyfriend, standing with his back facing you and his body hovering over the counter. His hands were firmly gripping onto the edge of the marble, and his head was lowered so you couldn’t take a look at his face behind his hair. When you heard muffled sniffs, your eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

“Rafe?” You almost whispered, talking one step closer to him. Rafe’s body instantly tensed, but he didn’t turn around. His shoulders and back seemed harder than rocks, and you swore his body was shaking from tension. 

You debated for a few seconds, considering what was best to do. Something obviously had happened between Rafe and Ward, and even though they always fought, you never saw Rafe crying. You quickly figured out that he didn’t like to be seen as "weak,” so he rarely showed any emotions, even to you, no matter how hard you tried to create a comfortable environment for him. That’s why you knew that there was no point in trying to make him talk.

When he sniffed again, not moving for an inch or acknowledging your presence, your heart clenched and not waiting anymore, you slowly went closer to him. 

When he felt your arms wrapping around his middle part with your chest firmly pressed against his back, his whole body stiffened at the unusual touch. Rafe had never had someone comforting him, and the whole thing with you constantly trying to go past his walls slightly terrified him. He desperately wanted to just give in, because Rafe knew that you would never hurt him, but something inside his head was still fighting against it.

You held him as close to you as possible, hoping to give him some sense of security. When Rafe’s body finally eased up a little, you turned your head to place kisses on his back while your hands moved up and down his stomach. 

You didn’t know how long you two were standing like this—close to each other and in complete silence. Rafe clearly didn’t want to talk about it and you knew better than to push him. It was a small step for both of you, but you knew that you would do anything to make him feel safe.

The second time it happened, you were in Rafe’s bed, too invested in your book, when he entered the room. Your gaze shifted to him and you instantly noticed that slightly distant look in his blue eyes, as well as his clenched jaw and rapid breathing. 

You were trying not to be very obvious by the way your instant reaction was to jump out of bed and ask what happened. Rafe was not this type of person and he needed gentle handling. So you went back to your book, only lifting your eyes every few seconds while he silently changed his clothes to something comfortable. 

“I want to cuddle.” You suddenly said, placing a bookmark in between the pages and putting your book on the bedside table. Rafe just looked at you and it felt like your eyes were having their own conversation. He knew that you knew that something had happened and were now just trying to make it seem like you were the one who needed affection, and he was thankful for you not trying to get the information out of him.

He nodded, and the next thing you knew, he was on top of you, arms wrapped around your body, face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers started to brush through his hair and he let out a deep sigh of relief.

The room was silent, except for your quiet breathing; that’s why your ears easily caught a soft sniff. Rafe moved his head back and forth, trying to be closer even if it was impossible, and it made you feel something wet touching your skin. You didn't say a word because you knew that it was not the right time yet. Instead, you left one hand in his hair to massage the scalp and moved another one to Rafe’s back, rubbing it up and down. You let your lips brush against his temple and he tightened his hold on your waist in return.

You didn't know what had happened and you hoped that he would tell you when he felt like it, so for now, you were just giving him the safe space that he desperately needed. It clearly worked, because as Rafe’s body became limp on top of yours and his breathing started to slow down, you guessed that he had fallen asleep. 

The next morning, you were standing in the kitchen and making breakfast when you felt two hands sneaking around your waist and turning you around. Before you could say anything, Rafe gave you a breath-taking kiss, which you knew was his way of saying "thank you."

At one of Friday’s evenings, you and Rafe’s family and a few closest friends were having a dinner in the restaurant to celebrate Ward’s important deal at work being finally successfully signed. You honestly didn’t listen to the conversation that everyone was having, looking down at your almost full plate, until Ward and Sarah started a little argument about him doing something that she didn’t like. 

“It also turns out that the most important thing for me is you, Sarah. That’s why I did it.” Your heart skipped a beat when your ears caught the end of the conversation, with your whole body freezing in your chair. He said it so easily, not even hesitating or considering the feelings of his other kids, who sat at that exact table. 

Rafe sat near you and your eyes instantly drifted to him, only t just a blank expression on his face. He looked at his father, then at Sarah, then back at Ward. The disappointment and hurt were written all over his features. It was so obvious for you, probably because you spent so much time trying to figure out him and his emotions, yet his father didn’t care. 

Nobody did, honestly, as everyone at the table just brushed that comment off and continued talking. Only Wheezie looked equally sad, with a frown and with her hands crossed over her chest. 

Rafe’s eyes drifted to his full plate as he became completely distant from the conversation, not even paying attention to your worried gaze. He just felt numb. 

It's not like he didn't know that Sarah was everyone’s priority; he just didn't need to hear another reminder of that. 

He hated the feeling of not being good enough. He tried to impress his father countless times, being loyal and jumping at every opportunity to do the dirty work, just to hear any kind of praise or approval. Yet Sarah has always been the best girl, the best daughter, and the best child. 

A quiet groan escaped his lips in desperation, as he felt that similar tightness in his chest and throat. 

It just fucking hurt. 

Your worried eyes didn’t leave him even for a second, and when you noticed in which state he was in, you moved closer so only he could hear what you were saying. 

“Do you want to leave, Ray?” He just nodded, taking your hand in his and making some lame excuse about needing to leave. 

Sitting in his truck a few minutes later, Rafe didn’t even look at you, staring at something through the window. You saw the way he was occasionally clenching his jaw and blinking rapidly—signs that he was trying not to break down in front of you. 

You bit your lip, thinking to yourself, before finally deciding that you couldn’t just look at your boyfriend being hurt. So, tossing your purse aside, you got up from your seat, moving quickly to straddle Rafe’s lap. He looked at you in shock, but still placed his hands on your waist, rubbing the soft fabric. 

“Hey, look at me. You don’t have to keep it to yourself. Your feelings are normal, baby.” You tried to reassure him, holding his face firmly in your hands. 

He furrowed. “It’s just— It’s just that—“ Rafe paused, looking down and trying to control his breathing. You didn’t know whether it was anger or sadness, but as his chest started rising faster, in the darkness of the car, you saw a tear rolling down his cheek. 

Then another, and another, and another. 

Rafe tried to physically distance himself from you, pulling your hands away from his face and throwing his head back with a frustrated groan as the palms of his hands pressed into his eyes. 

“That’s fucking’ pathetic.” He hissed.

“No, it’s not. Stop trying to hide from me and just talk. You know I’m the last person to ever judge you.” You soothed him by softly caressing the skin of his neck with your thumbs, and then took a hold of his face to make him look at you. “Talk to me. It’s just us and no one else.” 

Rafe’s blue eyes seemed even brighter with tears gleaming in them, even though it was dark outside and the only light that you had was a lamppost near the restaurant. He gave you a long look, probably fighting his own barriers inside of his head because of how hard it was for him to open up. You waited patiently, not looking away or rushing him and it must’ve worked.

“The shit that he says and does… It hurts me. No matter how much I try, how much effort I put into everything, or how often I do what he needs and wants, it’s never enough. I’m never fucking good enough for anyone or anything.” You took Rafe’s hand in yours, interlacing your fingers. He instantly focused on it, mindlessly playing with your ring and rubbing your skin. “And I don’t hate Sarah—fuck, I really don’t, ‘cause it’s not her damn fault, y’know? But it makes me so fucking mad and-and I just don’t know what to do or what’s wrong with me.” 

Angry tears continued to flow down Rafe’s cheeks freely, as he was not capable of trying to hide them and wipe them away quickly anymore. You looked at him softly, with your heart aching for your boyfriend and for the way this situation deeply affected him. 

“He does this to Wheezie too. She’s a child, Y/N, and I know how it messes up with her head.” Rafe sighed, throwing his head back and looking at the ceiling. “Sometimes... sometimes I feel like I fuck up everything in my life. I think that maybe it’s my fault for him to act like that. Maybe I do something wrong, I dunno.”

“I know that I can't give you what Ward was supposed to give you. That type of love, I mean. But you’re important to me, Rafe. I won't put you in second place because you're always my first choice.” You freed your hands, again placing them on his wet cheeks. Big blue eyes stared back at you with vulnerability and despair as hands on each of your thighs tightened, so you tried to let Rafe know how much he meant to you. “You are good enough, and don’t you dare think otherwise.” 

You leaned closer, hovering over Rafe’s body, just inches away from his face, before tenderly pulling him into a kiss. 

“You shouldn’t let Ward ruin your life and your relationships with your sisters, because it won’t benefit you in any way. Ward is the problem, not you, Ray, so no matter how hard you try, he won’t change his mind.” You kiss away his tears, still firmly holding his face in your hands. “I’m here for you. I love you, and I hate seeing you kill yourself over this.”

Rafe suddenly pulled you closer by your waist, hugging you with all the strength that he had. His body trembled against you while you soothingly scratched the back of his neck. 

“I love you too. ‘M sorry f’ being a mess.” 

“Don’t say that. Everything is okay, we are okay. I’m happy that you finally opened up to me a little bit, because I support you, okay?” He nodded and kissed your naked shoulder, trying to catch his breath. 

“Thank you.” 

A few minutes later, Rafe’s breathing calmed down and his hands were just slowly going up and down your back. Your legs were already sore from your position on his lap, but it was peaceful with just you two sitting in a comfortable silence, so you didn’t mind. You looked up at him as the idea came to your head. "What if we take Wheezie away from there and go out to eat or ride around?" 

Rafe placed a kiss on your forehead, thinking about your words. His and Wheezie’s relationships were weird, with Rafe feeling distant from his family and her just being a child who didn't know how to handle the situation. But he always had a soft spot for her and he hated thinking about his sister sitting there and being invisible to everybody. 

“Yeah, we can. She’d like that.” He mumbled, focusing on your lips that curled into a smile. 

“Great!” You pushed away from him, opening the door and casually sliding on the floor. Rafe looked at you curiously, silently grateful that you were absolutely normal about what happened just a few minutes ago in his car. His heart suddenly raced, and he could not resist the urge to grab you by the waist and pull you in for a kiss. 

Rafe connected your lips, then slightly tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your skin got covered in goosebumps as you smiled against his lips before pulling away. Rafe subconsciously followed your face, trying to get more. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing. So gorgeous. I love you so much, baby.”

“You already told me that… but I love you more!” You giggled, taking his hands away from your body. “Now I’ll go get Wheezie, and you remove my lipstick from your face.” You gave him a teasing smile before finally going back to the restaurant and leaving Rafe with a soft smirk on his lips. 

He thought that maybe opening up for you was working much better in his favor than he expected. 

[posh--bee]

hotel room revelations || Spencer Reid

pairing → Spencer Reid x Reader

summary → While on a case, you have to not only share a hotel room but also a bed with the BAU's resident genius Spencer Reid whom you have had a crush on since he first joined the FBI. When you wake up during the night with his arms wrapped around you, previously hidden feelings come to light and you realize that your unrequited feelings for him might not be so unrequited after all.

warnings → sharing a bed, love confessions, early seasons!Spencer, insecure!Spencer, misunderstandings, friends to lovers, reader is part of the BAU, no descriptions or pronouns used for the reader, no y/n used

author’s note → I love the "there was only one bed" trope so of course I had to write it with my beloved genius. I'm so happy to finally finish another fic again so let me know what you think about it! <3 (forgot to post this fic and now my cm obsession fizzled out, oops. But I know it will come back to haunt me sooner or later)

word count → 5.2k

When you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re not too happy about it and not sure who or what to blame for it.

You grumble your dissatisfaction without opening your eyes and the warm body behind you freezes.

Now you’re a little confused and you try to fight off the urge to just drift off again so you can actually form a coherent thought because you don’t remember going to sleep with someone else by your side last night. But thinking is still a little difficult when you’re half-asleep and it takes you an embarrassingly long time to even remember if you’re in your own bedroom right now or in another state in some sort of hotel room because of work, so your memory is not the most reliable source of help at the moment.

The someone behind you still holding you in their arms seems to get a little impatient and tries to slowly move away from you again but you don’t let them, instinctively grabbing their hand that is resting softly against your stomach and interlacing your fingers with theirs to keep it there. You hear a startled little sound close to your ear and feel the someone behind you going rigid, even holding their breath in surprise. Feeling bad about spooking your bedmate so suddenly, you apologize by soothingly stroking up and down their arm that is draped over your waist before going back to holding their hand. You don’t want them to let go of you even though you’re still not quite sure who exactly they actually are—but you’re still working on that.

What you do know, however, is that they’re warm and holding you in a gentle embrace and that you feel very safe and secure in their arms. And that you don’t want it to end.

You smile to yourself in satisfaction when you feel the someone gradually relaxing against you once more and you can finally pick up that derailed train of thought of yours to figure out where you are and why you’re not alone in bed.

But that’s when the someone behind you decides to speak up and solve the mystery at last.

“I… I’m really sorry, but I have to move. My arm’s completely fallen asleep…”

Oh. That’s right.

His voice is quiet, timid even and still laced with sleep, and suddenly you’re feeling a lot more awake than just moments before, your heart immediately picking up speed as you remember how you and Spencer ended up in the same bed together.

You’re currently in a little hotel room in a city halfway across the country because of a case JJ had presented you the day before. Five bodies with a sixth person still missing and the local police had decided to ask for the BAU’s help to stop whoever is responsible for these crimes. Spencer and you started to work on the geographical profile while the rest of the team drove to the scenes of crime and talked to the victims’ families. After working until the middle of the night but without making any considerable progress anymore, Hotch decided it was time to go to the hotel, rest, and return to the case after a good night’s sleep.

The hotel was pretty booked already when you boarded the jet so when you arrived at last in the lobby, exhaustion already weighing heavy on your shoulders and your eyelids dangerously heavy, the team was told they had to share rooms and even ended up with a room with a double bed instead of two single ones.

When JJ first announced this little circumstance at first, you really couldn’t care less. Somehow, your tired brain didn’t really consider that you would be one of the people staying in the room with a double bed and much less who would be the other person with you. But when Morgan sauntered over to you, letting the key ring spin around his finger, a wicked gleam in his eyes, you knew nothing good would come of it.

With a smirk he pressed the keys into your hand and announced that you and Spencer would be the lucky pair to share the room with the double bed, giving you a wink that made you want to kill him just a little bit. Morgan knows very well about your little, not all that serious crush on your coworker and makes a point to tease you about it whenever he can, which, unfortunately for you, is very often. Your only consolation is that Spencer is too oblivious to pick up on it even though Derek makes sure everyone and their mother knows how you feel about the young doctor. He obviously claims it’s only because he’s playing cupid and can’t stand the two of you dancing around each other for eternity, but you know for a fact that he’s obviously doing it for his own entertainment as well. Besides, playing cupid only gets you so far when only one person has feelings for the other one—which you’re painfully aware is the case for you and Spencer.

With an especially dirty eyeroll you grabbed the keys and turned to look at Spencer who gave you one of his signature tight-lipped awkward smiles. He didn’t look very happy at the prospect of having to share not only a room but also a bed with you and you tried your hardest not to take it personally. You know Spencer values his personal space so having to spend this and the following nights with another person next to him is nothing to look forward to for him—even if it’s with a good friend.

You masked your disappointment and bruised feelings with a small smile of your own and led the way toward the elevators at the end of the hotel lobby, pointedly ignoring Morgan’s teasing voice telling you to have a good night. You silently swore to yourself that you would get back at him for all of this when the case was solved and over, but right now you were more worried about surviving the next few nights of having Spencer so close to you yet completely out of your reach.

Dealing with your unrequited feelings for the young doctor on a daily basis wasn’t always easy for you but you contended yourself with being his coworker and friend even though it hurt more than you cared to admit. In the beginning, you hoped that your feelings would go away if you just ignored them—after all, it was just a stupid little crush on your adorable and dorky new coworker. But as time went on, and you were still plagued by an eruption of butterflies in your stomach whenever Spencer smiled at you, or accidentally brushed your hand with his when handing you a pen or a cup of coffee, or just stood near you for an extended period of time, you had to admit to yourself that your feelings for him were far more serious than you anticipated at first. The thought of just confessing to Spencer had crossed your mind a lot at this point, to get it off your chest, but the possibility of him rejecting you and losing one of your best friends in the process scared you too much to actually go through with it.

And before you knew it Spencer went on a date with JJ and made out with a gorgeous blonde actress in her pool and flirted with pretty barkeepers, and that was proof enough for you that keeping your feelings to yourself was the right course of action which didn’t mean it saved you from heartbreak or feeling sorry for yourself.

You started to distract yourself with alcohol and attractive strangers between cases, collecting fleeting memories with partners who never really helped you forget the one person who was always on your mind and in your heart. You went on like this until you could hardly look at yourself in the mirror anymore, feeling disgusted and ashamed of yourself, knowing that it would only get worse but still not stopping, telling yourself it was the price you had to pay for not having to spend the nights all by yourself. It was until you drunkenly stumbled into the apartment of yet another stranger, hurriedly opening buttons and zippers, carelessly tossing clothes to the floor, giggling when the stranger’s lips connected to yours despite feeling sick to your stomach. You saw it only when the stranger moved to press open-mouthed kisses to your neck; a photo of the stranger’s family, beautiful children and an adoring partner smiling brightly for the camera, and you wondered if you would ignore this too now that you have seen it, like you ignored the noticeable mark on the stranger’s finger where a wedding ring was clearly missing.

You felt faint when you pushed against the stranger’s shoulders, almost falling over your own two feet leaving the apartment only to find yourself in a part of town you were completely unfamiliar with in the middle of the night. Not knowing what else to do, you called Morgan who picked you up sitting on the curb, looking and feeling pathetic with tearstains on your face. He simply raised his eyebrows at you and wordlessly helped you into his car before driving back to his place. There, he gently wrapped you up in a blanket and cuddled with you on his old sofa for the entire length of three feel-good chick flicks all while alternating between handing you spoons of ice cream and tissues to dry your tears, listening to you in the early hours of the morning spilling your guts to him.

Thankfully, he never talked to you about that night again and you were grateful for it; otherwise, you would probably die on the spot from all the shame and embarrassment it would trigger in you. You had still apologized for inconveniencing him like this, staring at his shoes while stumbling over your words, fingernails biting into the palm of your hands. But Derek acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about, flashing you one of his defeating handsome smiles and you knew that all was good between you two, he was still your friend and didn’t think any less of you, so you pulled him down to press a grateful kiss to his cheek.

It didn’t however save you from Derek wiggling his eyebrows at you whenever Spencer and you sat pressed shoulder to shoulder absorbed in case files or when the two of you would share headphones on the jet while returning home. You are used to it by now, simply sticking your tongue out at him or giving him the finger when Hotch and JJ aren’t looking, earning a good-natured laugh from Derek and a confused glance from Spencer, who, to your relief, never quite understands what the constant teasing between you and the older agent is about.

So yes, after seeking pointless comfort with strangers until the point you almost didn’t recognize yourself anymore, you now are at a point where you would say that generally, you are just fine with knowing that Spencer would never see you as anything other than a good friend and coworker.

But after an exhausting day working on a grueling case, having made close to zero progress on it, and having to share a hotel room and a bed with Spencer only to wake up to him holding you in his arms, you really wish the universe would give you a break one of these days so you could take the time to get over your feelings for your genius friend once and for all.

You sigh quietly, willing your racing heart and those malicious butterflies in your stomach to calm down before letting go of Spencer’s hand, trying your best to ignore the pang of disappointment. The feeling only worsens when Spencer moves away from you, carefully putting some distance between yourself and him, taking all his warmth with him and you can’t help but to curl into yourself at that.

You feel him settle on the other side of the bed, already missing his touch even as fleeting as it was, feeling wide awake and wondering how you will ever fall asleep again tonight after that—and the nights still to come.

“I’m so sorry for ambushing you like that,” Spencer’s quiet voice cuts through the silence of the room, his bashfulness palpable with every word. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t, Spence. Don’t worry.” Quite the opposite, but you keep that thought to yourself, opting for lightening the mood instead. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I mean, I had to share a bed with Emily before and I woke up to her having me in a chokehold so I prefer having you as my bedmate by a mile.”

You’re blessed with a little laugh from Spencer, your body relaxing against the unfamiliar mattress but still missing his closeness from before. You feel him shift on his side of the bed and can’t help but wonder if he too was more comfortable with holding you in his arms. But you quickly dismiss this silly thought of yours, knowing that indulging in false hopes and wishful thinking doesn’t save you from the reality that Spencer just doesn’t feel the same way as you.

“But I’m serious. You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you reiterate after a moment of silence between the two of you, slowly turning around for a more comfortable position which isn’t in the slightest related to the fact that like this you are facing Spencer now. You can’t really make out his features in the darkness of the hotel room but maybe it’s for the best. Otherwise, you probably would give into the temptation of reaching out and brushing a few unruly curls of his behind his ear, your fingers softly lingering on his face just a tad too long.

“That’s—I’m glad…” His voice is quiet, almost distant, and you wonder if he’s already drifting off to sleep again. You couldn’t blame him for that. The day the two of you had was long and wearying, coming into work just to be presented with gruesome pictures from various crime scenes, discussing the UnSub’s profile and MO while being on the jet before being introduced to police officers and grieving family members alike, getting to work without a single break on your mind. If it wasn’t for these inconvenient feelings of yours that caused your heart rate to resemble that of someone who just ran a mile, you would probably feel as exhausted as Spencer is. But in your case, sleep is currently not really something you can think about when all you want is to curl up in his arms like before, feeling warm and safe and happy until the harsh reality of the next morning catches up with you again.

“Still, I’m sorry,” Spencer then whispers into the darkness, your name leaving his lips in a soft sigh, and you frown. There’s really nothing he has to apologize for and you want to tell him as much, but he’s faster than you, his words coming out in a self-conscious rush.

“I’m sorry that you are stuck here with me. I know you’d prefer being with Morgan instead and I’m sorry that he’s being such an idiot about all of this.”

Now you really don’t know what he’s talking about. What does Derek have to do with anything? But Spencer doesn’t let you voice your thoughts, only to confuse you even more.

“I-I know you like Morgan so you were probably hoping that he would just assign this room to himself and you, and I really don’t get why he’s so set on acting like he doesn’t have feelings for you as well. I get he’s not really someone who does relationships but he’s lucky that someone special like you is in love with him so—”

“Spencer, stop—” you suddenly interrupt this agitated rambling of his, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he’s somehow convinced you have feelings for your fellow agent. “Wha-What are you talking about? I’m not in love with Derek Morgan. We’re friends, but that’s really all there is to it. What on earth makes you think that I like him like that?”

You push yourself up on your elbow in your bewilderment, the sheet that covers you and Spencer falling from your shoulders in the process. You quickly turn around, turning on the light by your bedside, not believing what nonsense you just heard. Dumbfounded, you look at the genius lying beside you, his expression confused and apologetic in return.

“I’m—sorry?” he starts while sitting up slightly so the two of you are at eye level, his voice hesitant and uncertain. “I just thought… The two of you are always together, even outside of work, on the weekends. And you have all these little private jokes with Morgan and conversations that always stop whenever someone else gets closer. And he always makes you laugh and flustered, so I just figured—you know, that you like him more than just a friend or a coworker.”

He takes a deep breath and looks away, his fingers fiddling with the hem of the stiff hotel sheet while you can only stare at him open-mouthed.

“And I figured that he’s an idiot for not realizing that he’s the luckiest man on earth to have your heart.”

The silence in the dim hotel room stretches on while Spencer pointedly avoids meeting your eyes and you continue to stare at him, your mind still trying to process that he is convinced about your feelings for Morgan when your heart only belonged to Spencer for a long time now, when you wish for nothing but to wake up in his arms like you just did every day for the rest of your life.

You reach for him and grab his face, holding him in place when he’s startled by your sudden action and the intense eye contact, his eyes widening in confusion and shock but you don’t care. You can’t. There’s a sudden need in you for him to understand how wrong he is about your alleged feelings for Morgan, to make him see the truth that was always right in front of him.

So you resolutely look into his eyes, ignoring the subtle trembling of your fingers against his soft skin and the ringing of your own heartbeat in your ears. You’ve experienced explosions going off right next to you, you’ve cornered armed serial killers and ran into possibly lethal situations without a second thought, but somehow you’ve never been as fucking sacred as you are right now. You could ruin everything you have with Spencer with what you are about to say, but you can’t keep it in any longer. You need him to know how you feel about him, how you’ve felt about him for so long now.

“Spencer Reid, you listen to me. I am not in love with Derek Morgan, I never was and I never will be. I can’t believe you’d think that when I’ve been pining for you for literal years now! It’s always been you, I need you to know that. From the moment I saw you standing next to Gideon with that stupidly adorable sweater and that awkward smile of yours, I knew I was done for. So I never want to hear you say that I have feelings for Morgan when I’m in love with you!”

Your voice is shaking throughout your little speech, but you make it to the end, intently staring into Spencer’s eyes who looks back at you with such a stupidly shocked expression that you would’ve laughed at him if not for your heart beating so wildly against your ribcage that it physically hurt.

The silence that follows your confession is oppressive and all-consuming, and you let go of Spencer’s face so he doesn’t fall victim to your nervous urge to sink your fingernails into something. Instead, they bite into the skin of your forearms as you hug your midsection, watching the young genius open and close his mouth multiple times without making a sound, his eyes blinking rapidly.

Dejectedly, you nod to yourself, already putting together a list of romantic comedies in your mind Morgan will have to endure together with you while you pathetically sob into his shoulder, tissues and ice cream keeping you company on your little coffee table in front of the TV.

You didn’t really expect it to end any differently, but it still hurt more than you anticipated. Your eyes begin to sting and you close them, stubbornly fighting the urge to cry. You have enough time for that later, preferably when you’re not sharing a room with Spencer anymore and the case is over, so you take a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself before opening your eyes again.

Spencer is still looking at you with wide eyes, a noticeable blush adorning his cheeks. Any other time you would find this discovery incredibly endearing, but right now, with your heart in pieces and dangerously close to crying, it only reminds you that you can’t take your words back, that now he knows how you feel about him and that your relationship with him will never be the same again, even if the two of you stay friends.

You manage a meek smile that Spencer doesn’t return, and you wonder if his silent reaction to what you revealed to him could be a blessing in disguise after all. You want him to say something, anything, to you but at the same time you don’t know how well you and your bruised heart would handle hearing him say that he doesn’t feel the same way about you out loud.

What you do know is that you can’t stay here any longer, you need to get out of this room, out of this situation, now.

With one last look at Spencer, you avert your eyes, your voice quiet, tinged with regret.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper before sitting on the edge of the bed, your back now to him, only tilting your head back to speak in his direction. “I’ll ask the others if I can stay in one of their rooms for the night.”

You move to stand up and that’s what snaps Spencer out of his daze at last, hurriedly reaching for you before you can get up, much less process what is happening, one of his large hands on your arm while the other is cupping your jaw tenderly, almost hesitantly. The kiss he pulls you into then is the opposite of that. It’s urgent and desperate and completely steals your breath away, your heart leaping into your throat and your stomach lurching in confused delight. Still, it takes you a moment to kiss him back, entirely too overwhelmed to react, but when you do it’s just as urgent, just as desperate. Your teeth clank together slightly but you ignore it in favor of meeting Spencer’s tongue with your own, your head beginning to spin. You’re not sure if it’s from the kiss or the lack of oxygen but you really can’t care less about that at the moment, especially not when you swallow the appreciative groan that falls from Spencer’s lips as one of your hands finds its way into his curls and pulls not all too gently on them.

The kiss only breaks when you’re certain the two of you are running out of air completely but still Spencer whines quietly at the sudden loss of contact, following your lips until the hand in his hair tugs him back. You placate him with a quick peck to his nose before concentrating on calming your heavy breathing and frantically beating heart, your forehead softly resting against his.

You don’t protest when Spencer starts to pull you closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you and guide you to settle in his lap, your head now resting on his shoulder, humming in contentment at the kiss he presses to the top of your head. You don’t say anything for a while, having no need for words, not when you feel Spencer’s heart mirror the rhythm of yours as you place your hand on his chest.

You look up at him when he covers your hand with his own and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand that makes your skin tingle pleasantly. His eyes swim with emotions but he doesn’t look away as you try to decipher all of them even though his blush reaches from the tip of his ears to somewhere underneath the soft shirt he wears. Your fingers itch to pull the collar of the shirt down a little, just to see how far that blush really goes when he quietly clears his throat, the bright smile on his pretty lips faltering slightly.

“I’m sorry for—for not saying anything just now. I couldn’t—I wasn’t sure you really meant what you said, I just couldn’t believe it wasn’t some sort of joke.”

You shift in his embrace, ready to repeat what you have said, to express what you feel for him until he is sick of hearing your voice, but before you can even open your mouth, he quickly steals a kiss from you, and then another one, effectively shutting you up and looking quite proud of himself too when he meets your eyes again. So you have no choice but to let him finish what he has to say like you always do, always giving him time to collect his thoughts and listening to him when he is ready to share them with you.

“But I know you would never lie to me, especially not about something like this and only then did I realize we could’ve been doing this years ago if I hadn’t been such an idiot and too blind to see what was in front of me all along because—because I’ve been in love with you for a long time now too.”

The smile that spreads on your face is so big it hurts your cheeks, radiant enough to challenge the whole sun and you have to twist your fingers into the front of Spencer’s shirt to pull him down to you so you can feel his lips on yours again. They’re soft and warm and real and when you part again the laugh that bubbles past his is like music to your ears, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You lean further into him and his arms around you tighten in response, enjoying the comfortable silence in this unfamiliar hotel room for a little while longer before gently speaking up again.

“You’re not an idiot Spencer. How could you have known when I’ve always been too scared to say anything? But now I did and we’ve finally found each other, and from now on we can make up for lost time. What do you say, my pretty boy?”

The adoration shining clearly in his brown eyes tells you everything you need to know and you move in to kiss him once more, preferably without ever stopping again, but suddenly Spencer tenses against you, making you look up at him with a quizzical look.

You can’t stop the little groan that escapes you at his next words.

“You and Morgan—did you really never—?”

As your genius worries his bottom lip between his teeth you really wish Morgan would finally stop being a part of your conversation.

“I—I believe what you’ve said, that you don’t have feelings for him,” Spencer continues, “but I’d understand if at some point, you know—because the way you are around each other—"

“Spencer. Let’s not do this again,” you have to interrupt a second time this night, but not unkindly. “Yes, even though I have feelings for you I have slept with other people, but it never meant anything to me—in fact, it just made me feel so, so horrible. And when it comes to Morgan—he and I are friends and that is all there is to it. It’s true I spend a lot of time with him, that we have a lot of little inside jokes and private conversations just for our ears, but do you want to know what the one common factor is with all of these things? It’s you, Spence.”

You emphasize your words with a kiss to his jaw, easing the tentative look he gives you by gently running your fingers through his soft hair.

“Most of the time I spent with Derek was just me whining about how much I wish you were mine and how unfair it is how adorable you look whatever you do and how smart and kind and pretty you are, and that you probably tried to kill me when you wore your glasses to work every day for some time. It’s honestly a miracle Morgan didn’t also develop a crush on you by sheer proximity to me, like through osmosis. He had to listen to me for years pining about you so he gets back at me for it by teasing me relentlessly about you, so I’ll have you know that all of our funny little private jokes are actually at my expense. My point is, even if Morgan would’ve wanted to start something with me—which he never did by the way—, he, and those other people too, never stood a chance because I only ever had eyes for you, Spence.”

“Oh.”

Spencer shakes his head in disbelief but he’s grinning like a fool with his cheeks and ears painted cherry red. He’s quick to hide his face in your hair, too overwhelmed by the sincerity in your voice and you think that now your genius finally, finally understands. But still, you would continue to reassure him about your feelings if his insecurities should get the better of him again, understanding that he doesn’t doubt you but that the voice in his head sometimes isn’t the kindest to him and that everything about this is very new to him.  

You close your eyes, your head resting comfortably against his shoulder until you’re on the brink of falling asleep, the comfortable and content silence of the hotel room and the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest steadily lulling you to sleep. After the long day you’ve had and the excitement of this night, exhaustion has now caught up with you and if the big yawn that escapes Spencer is any indication, he is feeling its effect as well.

You’re vaguely aware of Spencer reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp before moving the both of you to lay down together, shifting and coordinating limbs until you’re both comfortable with him holding you in his arms, his hand resting softly on your stomach and your fingers interlacing with his.

You smile to yourself, knowing that from now on you’ll have the privilege of falling asleep like this every night—in the arms of your beloved genius.