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astonmartinii · 2 days ago
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other side of the moon - chapter three | formula one imagine
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chapter three: home away from home
pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli
back in monaco for the first time after the crash, y/n reckons with ghosts from the past and the uncertain future.
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | PART ONE | PART TWO
despite the hefty price tag of the cat carrier, brando looks less than impressed. y/n continued to try and coax him in with a treat but the cat was suspicious to say the least.
“please get in the carrier brando,” she waved the treat in his face again, “we’re going to see max! you love max and you don’t mind kimi, yeah? remember them? we just have a short 16 hour drive because your lordship doesn’t like planes so can we please get in the carrier?”
brando bit into the treat and slowly made his way into the carrier looking sorry for himself. the biggest and final chore was now done with minimal guilt, she would take that. y/n wasn’t moving to monaco - no, she prided herself on being one of the only drivers to not make that jump, but she also didn’t exactly know when she was coming back.
there was less than a month until car launches and tests and max insisted on hosting some team-bonding sessions for her and kimi. it was probably just an excuse to see her before she is ‘tainted by mercedes’, but y/n found herself excited to see the dutchman again.
the suitcases were by the door and the plants had been watered, it was now or never. crossing the boundary of her front door, it dawned on y/n that her life was changing again. there wasn’t quite the excitement she had leading up to her first race in formula one, but she could feel the butterflies threatening to return.
the door clicked shut and the next phase started. in the lobby of her building, y/n approached the front desk.
“hi frank,” y/n said to the concierge, “i’m going away for a little while so could you keep all of my mail together for me?”
the older man smiled up at her. frank had been working at this building since y/n first moved in. he had tried to hide that he was a formula one fan but wasn’t quite successful. he had stuttered when she had turned up one evening, cap low on her head and oversized sunglasses despite the darkness.
“miss y/ln, would you like me to help you with your bags?”
y/n had frozen when frank said her name. frank had taken his hat off, trying to sort out the salt and pepper freckled hair on his head.
“i’m so sorry miss y/ln, that was unprofessional of me. as you now know, i am aware of who you are, i hope this does not make you uncomfortable. we will do anything you need to be comfortable here.”
y/n had also taken off her hat and looked frank in the eye. she deemed him sincere and allowed herself two minutes of respite from her burning anger. “no worries,” she looks down at his name tag, “frank. i would love some help, maybe on a better day i can sign something for you? other than these bags, i’d really love if this being my home was just something we keep between us.”
frank mock saluted and started grabbing bags.
“you won’t be gone forever will you, miss y/ln?” frank asked, pulling y/n back. the older man looked uncharacteristically worried.
“and miss our scintillating conversations? i would never! i assume you’ve heard i’ve taken the job with kimi? i’m going to do some ‘team-bonding’ with him in monaco and then i’ll be back”
frank took one of her suitcases, helping her to the garage.
“monaco you say? you wouldn’t be staying with the handsome dutchman by any chance,” frank said, raising an eyebrow in question.
“i might be?” y/n opened the door of her pink cadillac, “was it you who let him and kimi up without my permission, frank?”
“guilty as charged ma’am, but they were there with good purpose so i just had to”
frank continued loading the car with her suitcases, opening the back door and securing brando’s carrier in place.
“he also gave me a signed pair of race gloves, sorry!”
y/n exclaimed as she shut the door of the car. “i knew he was bribing you! but yes, i guess i am glad you let them up - for now.”
frank pulled y/n in for a hug. she let it linger before clearing her throat and pulling back.
“i know i’m just an old man, but it’s nice to see you excited about something again. you came to me three years ago a broken girl with a constant face like thunder,” frank pinched her cheek, “but here you are, ready to conquer the world again. i am proud of you. but don’t get too lost in your new role to not see what’s right in front of you.”
y/n was confused. frank continued, “the crash took a lot from you, but it did not make you unloveable. give people a chance.”
the older man stepped back and gave her a wave.
“make sure you make enough stops and get some sleep, it’s a long drive to monaco. say hi to max for me.”
frank turned and made his way back into the building. y/n sighed and climbed into her car. the pink cadillac was hardly subtle but she had banished all of her other cars to a different garage three years again so it would simply have to do.
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, kimiantonelli and 11,304,788 others
yourusername: sixteen hour road trip ahead of us, i hope brando is ready to get real acquainted with taylor swift's discography
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user1: she’s so cute
user2: it’s the pink caddy!!!
user3: y/n is back in formula one and is driving the pink cadillac - never kill yourself
charles_leclerc: okay miss active on instagram
yourusername: had to come back and steal all the likes from you obviously
charles_leclerc: oh yes please remind me how you still have double the followers i do when you haven’t posted in three years?
yourusername: idk sounds like you have a skill issue to me
charles_leclerc: sixteen hours and you’re back on my stomping ground… watch it missy
yourusername: i will watch
yourusername: because i know you and you will grovel
charles_leclerc: maybe…
charles_leclerc: i’ve missed you, sue me!
yourusername: i just might!
charles_leclerc: wait-!
user4: all these reunions are making me sappy
user5: i’m stuck on the fact that y/n is driving all the way to monaco?
yourusername: brando doesn’t like flying 😕
user6: oh to be a high maintenance cat of a rich person
maxverstappen1: jimmy and sassy are eagerly awaiting your arrival
yourusername: awwww i’ve missed them
maxverstappen1: i was talking to brando…
yourusername: rightttttt
maxverstappen1: but i am eagerly awaiting your arrival
yourusername: as you should be
maxverstappen1: i stocked up on all your weird english biscuits and everything
yourusername: you’re too precious
user7: oh to have a bond like theirs
user8: i fear it’s a trauma bond
user9: it’s still cute!
kimiantonelli: can’t wait to get started miss y/ln
yourusername: please call me y/n kimi you’re making me feel so old
kimiantonelli: oki
kimiantonelli: miss y/ln what kind of pasta do you like
kimiantonelli: *y/n what kind of pasta do you like
olliebearman: you are such a failure omg
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the road was quiet, with taylor swift’s voice filling the silence. y/n had exhausted the conversation with brando, who was tuckered out in the backseat. by now the pair we deep into france, y/n had stopped being able to translate the road signs many miles ago.
the thought of returning to monaco was daunting. there would be ghosts around every corner and memories that y/n wasn’t sure she was ready to confront. y/n wasn’t even sure which drivers even lived in the principality any more - however, she knew that her former teammate did.
lando norris was a bit of an enigma in y/n’s life. there were early growing pains in their friendship? work relationship? but as the 2021 season rolled around, she thought they had finally been ironed out. the gap was slim, but lando had outscored her in 2020, so his ego was still intact and that made him a little more enjoyable to be around.
y/n wasn’t sure who or what had pushed lando over the edge of accepting her as a teammate and not just a mere annoyance, but january 2021 was night and day from her rookie season. y/n had a sneaking suspicion that lando had been subject of some heated PR meetings over the christmas break, but as long as she wasn’t in them, she didn’t really care.
suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere. lando spoke to her outside of meetings, in between video takes and checked in over the breaks. suddenly lando knew the name of her friends, where she had gone on holiday and her favourite food. y/n didn’t think much of it at the time. but then came everything else.
july 2021.
y/n didn’t tend to spend long on social media, why open herself up to the opinions of stupid people just because they were loud? one morning, a sunny one in monaco, y/n received a flurry of texts from her trainer luca. ripped from her yoga session on max’s balcony, y/n checked her texts.
luca: is there other strenuous activities i need to be aware of?
luca: tiktok.com/userlandonorris/reposts
luca: if this is a thing, should jon and i coordinate training plans?
huh?
y/n clicked the link and was taken to lando’s tiktok page. she felt like an old woman trying to navigate the app but finally found the reposts. the first few she saw were edits of herself? and then a couple talking about “finally being understood by that person” and some other more charged in nature.
what the fuck. there wasn’t a normal day in this team it seemed. y/n pulled back the door and went to find max. the dutchman was tucked into bed, still sore from silverstone just two weeks earlier.
“have you seen this shit?” y/n said, shoving her phone in max’s face, “i mean what does this even mean? 69? i didn’t even know lando could count that high?”
“i think he’s referencing sex, y/n”
“i know he’s referencing sex idiot! why is he referencing having sex with me?!”
“i don’t know, you’re the dumbass who joined that team - he’s probably trying to like get you on side after the shit he pulled in austria and is doing it in classic dumbass lando fashion.”
austria had been eventful. both lando and y/n had somewhat slow starts to the season, with just one podium to their names by the time they pulled up to the red bull ring. the two papaya cars lined up fourth and fifth on the grid, with y/n managing to edge in front of her teammate, which meant the two were subjected to the word teamwork 72 times in a 45 minute meeting (y/n had counted).
when the lights went out, y/n got the jump on the ferrari of sainz ahead of her, wrestling her way past the spaniard and up into third. with cleaner air, max had already wrangled a healthy three second gap back to her and was hunting down lewis, so she focused on keeping the prancing horse behind her. as they approached the steep incline, carlos jerked out to the right and tried his luck up the inside. the spaniard was heavy on his brakes, burning up his tyres as he missed the apex and shunted his front wing into y/n’s front right tyre.
the contact didn’t manage to cause a puncture or any terminal body damage, but the push had made way for carlos, lando and charles to slide past her as she strained to keep her mclaren from going into the gravel trap.
“what the hell was that?” y/n asked down the radio, keeping her eyes focused on charles’ ferrari down the road. “do i have any damage?”
“no damage that we can see. hang back for a couple of laps, the ferraris are eating their tyres and will fall back to you.” jude, her usually cool race engineer, had a bite to his voice.
taking the corner as tight as she could y/n barked back, “surely he has to give that place back? he forced me off the track?!” y/n was practically vibrating, with anger or from the force on her tyres, she wasn’t sure yet. “just keep your head down, we’ll get back to you,” hugo replied.
the ferrari of charles was getting further and further down the road. “hugo their tyres aren’t falling off, can i hunt them down yet? what about this penalty?” it was like talking to a brick wall as the pit wall didn’t reply. y/n bit down the urge to swear up a storm and put her foot down with renewed vigour.
by the next lap y/n had managed to battle her way into charles’ drs and was priming her tyres for a late move further down the track. charles tried to cut off the slip stream and predict which side y/n might choose, but it wasn’t enough as the mclaren breezed past charles before they even hit the apex.
unbeknownst to y/n the silence from hugo was indicative of the larger argument happening on the pit wall. despite putting massive flatspots on his tyres, lando had yet to make his way past sainz’s ferrari. will, lando’s race engineer, was deep in discussion with him over the radio (which would’ve made quite entertaining viewing for y/n after the fact if it didn’t concern her so deeply).
“lando we are confident that sainz will get a penalty. y/n has cleared charles, we need you to back sainz into y/n so she can overtake. when she does we want you to give the position back.”
and if that wasn’t the sentence that summoned the shitstorm.
“why should i give the position back? i did nothing wrong?”
lando kept his foot down and increased the gap between himself and sainz. will’s voice rang out on the radio again,
“lando. sainz pushed y/n off track and you all gained positions, the right thing to do is to give the position back.”
that was a red flag to a raging lando. he let off a spiel that had made the post-race debrief and all media duties torture for the pair of them.
“carlos did nothing wrong and i did nothing wrong. y/n needs to learn we won’t just let her past like schumacher did. tell her to hurry up if she wants this position back, i won’t give her a podium just because she can’t defend.”
there was silence on the mclaren radio for a few moments. there was even silence on the broadcasts. no one quite knew what to say to that.
y/n had closed in on sainz, hundredths away from being in the spaniard’s drs range. her radio finally crackled back to life, “y/n you have full permission to use your tyres, we aim to pit soon. you are free to race with lando.”
excuse me? on one hand y/n was glad, there had been a couple awkward moments already this season where she had been told to hold position and not fight. however, that was her position, lost through no fault of her own?
“i am free to race? he should give me that position!”
“you are free to race. head down and clear sainz before we discuss again.”
this was bullshit. she knew it, hugo knew it, zak brown knew it, the broadcast team knew it and deep down lando knew it too. sainz was an easy pass for y/n in the end as she pipped him on the start finish straight. lando had a three second advantage which meant that y/n had some free air to cool down her tyres and get ready to fight her teammate. she would be clean but she was finishing on that podium whether he liked it or not.
within two laps y/n had completely dropped sainz and was breathing down the neck of lando. she was within his drs range as they rounded the final corner but before she could launch an attack lando swerved into the pit lane. that was an early stop? y/n quietly thought to herself that it seemed all too convenient that he was called into pit just as she was about to catch him… not that it really bothered her all too much, the over cut was more powerful at austria, so if she kept her good pace, she should come back out in front of her teammate.
many laps later and a late pit stop for y/n, the younger mclaren driver proudly picked up her second podium of the season. she hauled herself out of the car in parc ferme and immediately embraced max who had once again managed to win his quasi home race, catching lewis with ten laps to go.
once she had been weighed, y/n made her way to the interviews, glad to see it would be jenson conducting them - he always gave her nice questions.
“up first we have our third place finisher, the incomparable y/n y/ln! what a stint on those mediums, i thought for a second you were going to go all the way on them!” jenson said with a wide grin.
“thank you jenson! yeah… after the first lap i thought my race was pretty screwed… the fia took their time with carlos’ penalty so i had to regain my positions myself… but i think all in all it was a good race i’m glad to being going into my home race on the high of a podium and i’ll be looking to do even better there!”
jenson smiled at her but started to pick at his nails, a telltale sign he was going to have to ask a question he didn’t want to ask. “not to bring you down after a great race, but i must ask, what do you make of lando’s comments on the radio?”
y/n was puzzled, and her face showed that much. she started stuttering and shrugging. one of the production assistants behind jenson passed her a phone and pressed play. y/n held the phone up to her ear and felt the words rush over her.
“carlos did nothing wrong and i did nothing wrong. y/n needs to learn we won’t just let her past like schumacher did. tell her to hurry up if she wants this position back, i won’t give her a podium just because she can’t defend.”
oh. okay. y/n knew she needed to take a couple breaths before she responded or she would say something she would regret. people would probably forget about lando’s comments by next week but if she said something like that she’d be stuck with the brat label for the rest of her career.
“that’s disappointing for sure to hear. third and fourth is a good result for the team and it ended how it should’ve. we’ll discuss this with the team but for right now i’m going to celebrate my podium and drink some champagne!”
jenson gave her a nod to say she did well and beckoned over lewis. y/n walked back to the side of the podium pen and slid in next to max.
“who the fuck does he think he is saying that? i’m being serious, someones got to knock some sense into him,” max said under his breath, aware cameras were still on them.
“i know, it’s bullshit, but i doubt they’ll say anything severe to him.”
just as y/n was making peace with the fact there would be no severe consequences for lando, her and max turned to see the man himself in the media pen. intrigued, both listened in on his interview.
“it sounds bad on the radio, yes. but i stand by the message, maybe not the delivery. this is formula one and y/n needs to know that you can’t just bat your eyelashes and be let by.” lando’s PR handler cuts the interview there and drags him back towards the mclaren garage, barely concealing her anger on her face.
“well, well, well.”
max groaned from under the blanket he had wrapped over his head, snapping y/n out of it.
“yes he was a massive knob in austria, as per usual, but i don’t understand how implying he’s sleeping with me makes it any better? it makes it look so much worse!”
“can you stop bothering me about it i think you just retriggered my concussion.”
“i don’t think that’s a thing, max,” y/n said and then her phone chimed, “speak of the devil, he’s asked if we can go for some lunch to ‘discuss the season’ whatever the fuck that means”
“good leave me alone”
“we’re going to luigi’s do you want me to get you some carpaccio to go?”
“i actually take it back, i love you - yes.”
y/n refilled his water and got his painkillers from the kitchen before she slipped on her shoes and made her way out of the complex. this is what was confusing about lando. he was more than happy to berate her on the radio but then would set up meetings like this like nothing had happened. usually y/n could write it off as a heat of the moment thing - she had once called mick an ‘incompetent cunt with shit hair’ on the radio so she definitely understood it. but it never stopped there, media duties were the death of lando and y/n was interested to see how he aimed to worm his way out of this one.
luigi’s was surprisingly busy for a tuesday afternoon but y/n spotted lando easily with his big jumper in the july heat. lando didn’t stand up to greet her so y/n just sat down as soon as she got to the table.
“do you know what you want to order?” lando snapped the menu shut and looked over to her.
“i’m doing well lando, thanks for asking,” y/n muttered sarcastically, “i’m just going to get some of the salmon, it’s good here.”
the waiter turned up just as she put the menu down and y/n ordered the salmon, a juice and the carpaccio to go. lando had ordered some chicken salad and a water. once the waiter had left he hissed at y/n, “did you order that on purpose?”
“what?”
“the salmon.”
“are you allergic or?”
“no?”
“then what’s the big deal? i like salmon, it’s good for you.”
“i hate fish. everyone knows i hate fish. i invited you here to sort things out and you’re already starting with the mind games.”
y/n’s mouth fell open. he was actually being serious.
“you know not everything is about you right? salmon is in my meal plan and they cook it nicely here. i don’t think about you in everything i do.”
lando huffed, whispering a ‘that i’m sure of’ to himself. this was so childish, and y/n was very to let lando know that. “do you want to repeat yourself lando? or are you going to continue to be a child?”
lando was taken aback, “me being a child? says you! i wanted to talk this out after silverstone like we planned? you were going to come to see my family and everything. they were so excited to meet you, especially my sisters. but no, you let me, let us down!”
y/n actually laughed in disbelief. “i told you i was sorry about silverstone and i was, but max needed me and in that moment he was who i had to be with.”
“it’s always max, isn’t it?”
“he was airlifted to the hospital lando, i’m sure he would’ve preferred me hang out with your family than have to do that again.”
lando had started to rip apart the napkins, a sign he was desperately trying to regulate himself.
“you always choose him! you choose him then, you only stay at his when you’re in monaco - you’re even picking up food for him on our date!”
“our date? are you kidding me? i’m going to ignore that,” y/n took a sip of water,” and for max? i care about him deeply and he was in hospital after a very dangerous crash!”
“then why don’t you care about me? huh?” lando was getting choked up, “you’ve never been there for me when i’ve crashed?”
now y/n was even more confused. lando had wanted her to be there for him when he had crashed but also couldn’t stand to be around her longer than necessary until this season. this boy was such a headfuck.
“you fucking hated me last season lando. and the way you’re acting here and how you acted in austria don’t really tell me that you like me any more.”
lando huffed and crossed his arms like a child. y/n continued, “this is what i don’t get with you. you can’t stand me all last season, literally refusing to call me by my name, only calling me rookie and running from meetings as soon as you can but now, now! i need to be there for your every need. now you can repost dumb tiktoks and fuel rumours about us?”
“they told me we needed to look closer!”
“so you decided to tell the world we’re fucking?”
“i didn’t say that!”
“you basically did, i saw the reposts. and for your information i would never fuck you in a million years.”
“no, that’s for max only isn’t it?”
“what is you people’s fucking obsession with thinking i am sleeping with someone on the grid? is it that inconceivable that i might be able to exist around my fellow drivers without trying to sleep with them?”
“well you should stop acting like you are then!”
y/n stood up abruptly, scraping the chair across the floor. she hastily grabbed her stuff and slotted her sunglasses back.
“you can send me what i owe for the lunch, i don’t feel like sitting here and being berated because you can’t handle this season. you know who actually has something to be stressed about, the guy actually in the title battle, who is in bed still recovering from a crash. so goodbye lando, i’m going to go take care of my friend who actually cares about me and can talk to me without belittling me.”
she sweeped out of the restaurant, the waiter at the entrance saw her coming and passed her the carpaccio. the heat of monaco was sweltering but the drama between her and her teammate was heating up even more.
present.
y/n was still none the wiser about how she felt about lando, even all these years later. something inside of her wanted to reach out to him, reassure him that he was good enough, especially after how 2024 had panned out, but then the memories of their time together at mclaren come flooding back and she feels content with her silence.
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texts between y/n y/ln (bold) and charles leclerc (italics)
little birdy told me you’re back in monaco
by little birdy i mean your instagram post
omg have you considered a career switch to being a detective?
you’re mean
anyway!
cocktail night at mine tonight
i guess you can bring your losers too
yes that includes ollie before kimi asks
wow that’s a big assumption that i’m going to say yes
drinking on my dime? when have you ever said no?
you have a good point
i’ll be there at 8 - losers in tow
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“we get to go to a cocktail night at charles? oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
kimi squealed down the phone to y/n, “hold on let me tell ollie, we’ve got to get ready!”
y/n could hear him shuffling through their shared flat, “it doesn’t start for another like three hours kimi!”
the two boys had started excitedly discussing outfits and which cocktails are the ‘cool’ ones.
“we’ll swing by yours at 7:45, be ready we won’t wait.”
y/n hung up and turned to max smiling, they were so cute. the two of them had been curled up on the couch with the cats for the majority of the afternoon as y/n was catching up on sleep. the brit turned to max,
“oh i forgot to tell you,” max perked up, “guess who came to my apartment after the GQ thing?”
max shrugged, throwing a toy for jimmy.
“lewis.”
“hamilton?”
“yeah!”
max’s eyes sharpened, “why would he be at yours?”
“wouldn’t you know? you’re the one who gave him my address,” y/n replied, trying to make eye contact with max who was avoiding her gaze.
“yeah i thought he was going to send you like condolence flowers or something not show up unannounced?”
both of them had sat up at this point. brando was sat between them, looking between them confused.
“he showed up and complimented my dress. i asked him if he was sad he missed me at mercedes and he like proper leaned in and asked what i could possibly teach him? kissed my hand and left. it was weird.”
y/n laughed as she recounted the story but max wasn’t laughing.
“it’s funny max, you’re meant to laugh.”
max forces out a sarcastic laugh.
“what’s wrong?”
“nothing. i just think it’s weird. food for thought.”
“don’t worry he won’t replace you. you’ll always be my favourite.”
max smiled at that. he piled on top of her, with brando squished in the middle.
“you’ll always stay at mine in monaco right? i’ll always be your best friend on the grid?”
“always,” y/n said, tucking one of max’s hairs behind his ear, “beside where else would i stay? in kimi and ollie’s bachelor pad? i’d rather die”
max let out a laugh and let his head fall on y/n’s chest, her hands immediately tangling in his hair.
“i’m sorry for that. i just love you and our bond, i get jealous that mr seven titles might steal you away.”
“away from you? they’d have to take me kicking and screaming. you’re the only one who had my address, you’re the only one i spoke to in the three years. don’t think i’ll ever not have you first.”
the cocktail party was nearing, but the pair were content to stay tangled on the couch, with a grumpy brando tucked in between them. outside of the apartment, the ghosts of monaco still lingered. maybe it was a good thing charles had a weird obsession with cocktails and his at home bar, y/n could use some liquid courage tonight.
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charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc: it’s been three years and she still can’t mix drinks.
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user1: war is officially over
user2: i hope nothing bad happened between them but it is stuck in my mind that they didn’t talk in the three years
user3: i’m hoping she just flat out wasn’t speaking to anyone but max and charles did nothing bad
user4: his tribute post is still up which others can’t say so
kimiantonelli: i think her drinks are just right!
yourusername: i think we’re gonna work so well together
kimiantonelli: i think so toooooooooo
olliebearman: he’s just really drunk?
yourusername: so he’s not always like this?
olliebearman: loud? not really. but hanging off every word you say? yeah that’s pretty normal
user5: oh how i’ve missed my beautiful wife
user6: lando’s beautiful wife
user7: nuh uh george’s
user8: what about the guy who actually posted it
user9: i actually think you all should kill yourselves!
yourusername: i’m really not that bad you just have bad tolerance
charles_leclerc: i have measuring tools right there and you insist on doing the ‘y/n pour’
yourusername: does the ‘y/n pour’ get the party started or not?
pierregasly: yes because everyone is pissed by 9pm
yourusername: is that not the aim of a party
charles_leclerc: this is a sophisticated soiree - i even bought olives for this
yourusername: oh please
maxverstappen1: i think it would be funnier to watch everyone drunk stumbling around y/n
charles_leclerc: okay well we’d all be a bit more chill if you didn’t gatekeep her for three years
maxverstappen1: don’t care 😛
user10: max is the level of unbothered i need to be right now
user11: he’s on necks even in the off season
user12: so who else is to come?
user13: please please please let the brits be there i need my dose of y/nlando
user14: they're meant to be i swear
user15: oh my sweet summer child
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:・
fin.
note: enjoy my quick updates while you can i am back at my big girl job tomorrow :((((( but i will try to keep up with this pace where i can!
taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998 @xsilkesworld @justaf1girl @daddyslittlevillain @evans-dejong @abq654 @elizamoe133 @wierdflowerpower @t1nkerbel1 @okcurran @raizelchrysanderoctavius @skepvids @multilovebot @fernandoalonso14 @jules-kup-172 @m4xgirlie @rorabelle15 @minkyungseokie @formula1-motogpfan @peterholland04 @miureiz @freyathehuntress @lighttsoutlewis @aleatorio1234 @chaosandevelyn
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kitimeq · 2 days ago
Text
ੈ✩‧₊˚we can’t be friends 🤍 xavier 星回 ੈ✩‧₊˚
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RE-UPLOAD! The original post didn’t show up in the tags, sorry for the confusion :c
pairing ੈ✩: xavier x reader
summary ੈ✩: you and xavier had been best friends for years, nearly inseparable since the moment you met. But after one slightly drunken night, everything shifted: you became friends with benefits. You told yourself you could handle it, but as time went on, your heart began to ache. You had to end it, for your own sake. You were in love with him, but you couldn't shake the painful truth: you believed he’d never feel the same. Still, what if, all this time, while you were trying to push him away, he was quietly hoping to show you how perfect you two were together?
word count ੈ✩: 12k. omg. it’s LONG, long. grab some snacks and let me entertain you for a while!!
tropes ੈ✩: 18+, smut, best friends with benefits, miscommunication, unrequired love, not really tho, angst, angst with happy ending, plot with porn, love confessions, needy xavier, obsessed xavier, domestic xavier, i suck at giving tropes i swear i will get better someday, desperate xavier, everything is consensual, the consumption of alcohol mentioned, pet names, xavier was once in love with mc but the myths are not canon in this one!!
author’s note ੈ✩: GUYS this one’s IT. This idea was blooming slowly in my mind for quite some time. I really hope you’ll like it 🥹 also, please be gentle with me, i’m not a native speaker of english and I’m definitely not a writer. I like to think that everything i create is just fueled by my passionate delulu. please let me know if you liked it and if maybe you’d like to read part 2!! ♡ enjoy your reading!!
!!do NOT read if you’re not 18+!!
ੈ✩‧₊˚ 
It all started with the simplest of touches.
Your hands grazed, as if by accident. Then your eyes met. He grabbed you by your forearm, or maybe you grabbed him, everything was so blurry in your mind. A touch on a waist, a hand on a chest, and a sudden clash of your lips. You saw fireworks exploding in your mind, sending pleasant thrumming throughout your whole body.
Desperate touches. Rapid breaths. A whisper, maybe two. He said something. What did he say? The sound of your heart was the only thing you could hear.
Your dress came off. You felt lips. Lips marking every part of your body, leaving behind wet paths that made the exposed skin shiver due to the coolness of the air. He went down. Down. Down, and looked at you expectantly. Your head never nodded that quickly and it probably never will again. You saw stars. Millions and millions of them, shimmering under your closed eyelids. He grabbed your hand and put it into his hair. You caressed it gently, savoring the softness of it.
Then, you saw his eyes. Beautiful, deep blues that looked far too innocent for what he did and what he was about to do with you next. He kissed you again and again, and again, and he held you close throughout the whole night, making you shiver, moan, cry, beg — until you fell asleep from exhaustion right in the safety of his arms. He turned your world upside down.
And then came the next morning, when you began to question the entire ordeal. You panicked, thinking about your friendship that you valued the most and Xavier, whom you just couldn’t bear to lose. However, when you wanted to put it past you, to blame the alcohol consumed that night, act as if it was just a slip of your judgement, a mistake, a reaction caused by the need of intimacy after being single for a long time, he wasn’t having it. He said that he couldn’t forget about it, that it changed things, and you blurted out the first thing that came into your mind. You proposed the whole arrangement.
And that’s how, after several months, your relationship with Xavier stayed clear and technically uncomplicated. Friends with benefits. You thought that even if that night did change things, then in this way you could act as if it wasn’t a big deal to you. In this way, you wouldn’t have to lose him, wouldn’t make things awkward. You still acted normally in front of each other, you continued to spend time in almost the same way you were before that faithful night, but with one drastic change.
Almost every encounter since that night ended with you in his bed or the other way around. Hours and hours spend in each other’s embrace, touching and feeling too much, all at once.
And said feelings were what made you finally decide that you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t continue sharing with him this intimacy, pretending that everything between you remained unchanged. You couldn’t do this anymore, knowing that it was all that you’ll ever get from him, despite being in love with him for so long.
You knew that he would never reciprocate your feelings. You knew that from the beginning, from the very first touch of your fingertips that night, but you foolishly thought that having him close for as long as he wanted you, would be enough for you. Even if he wanted you only for your body, because you were the easiest choice.
However, your heart was breaking every time you were reminded of one significant fact, a harsh reality that felt like a bucket of cold water in your face.
He will never love you. Because you were not her.
And you would never be.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
You already had a strategy to end the arrangement. You wanted to take it slow, step by step, with just a bit of pain on your side. You knew it wasn't your best plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. You wanted to end the friends-with-benefits arrangement in a way that would make you both slowly, almost naturally, drift apart—so subtly that he wouldn't even notice the change. As for you, you were ready to bear the painful consequences of your actions, if it saved you from the excruciating pain of a broken heart later.
You started with avoiding his kisses.
And it turned out to be a tough job to do, because you didn’t realize before how much of a kisser Xavier became during your friends-with-benefits situation. It never really bothered you before, you always accepted every single kiss with content. However, during your last meeting, you were trying so hard to avoid his lips, and noticed that he made it into an almost impossible task.
When you went out one night, he wanted to kiss you three times during hot pot, even though you were sitting across from each other. You thought that the sitting situation was enough of an obstacle, but you quickly learned that he always somehow managed to find a chance to try to steal a kiss. That not only bewildered you, but also made you blush so hard that you had to blame the spicy food for it to not look suspicious. Yet, you managed to stay your ground and ignored his needy attempts at capturing your lips.
You also avoided his lips while you were later watching a movie in his apartment, by pretending that you didn’t see or feel his constant gaze on you. You thought that maybe if he saw that the movie engaged you so much, he would finally drop the attempts. Unfortunately, your plan failed the moment his patience thinned, when he started kissing your neck while cradling your body to his. He was grabbing at you almost desperately and you really couldn’t escape from every single kiss he was giving you, no matter how much you tried to. And you really tried to.
“Why—why are you turning your face away? A-Ah… Let me look at y-you—mmm.” He said between his moans, and he never once stopped thrusting inside you. It was the day when he took you on a sofa between his soft, plushy pillows with the movie still playing in the background. Your legs were laying on his shoulder, his both hands holding onto them tightly while his hips thrusted deep inside you, making you gasp in pleasure. When you didn’t respond and kept your head away, hoping that he would finally stop with his relentless kisses, his hand gently grabbed your face and turned it towards his so that your eyes met. He smiled softly, his cheeks pink and face damp. “Yes, there you are. You feel good? You wanna break?” He almost slurred and you adored how quickly he was loosing himself with you, how much he was loosing his composure. When you squeezed your eyes, moaning at a harder thrust and shook your head no, he whimpered. Next thing you knew, he lowered your legs onto the sofa and layed between them, bringing his body closer to yours. Your chests touched and you could feel his rapid heartbeat, mirroring the rhythm of your own. He nudged your head, which was still turned to the side, with his nose.
“Give me a kiss, c’mon, starlight.” He kissed your cheek, slowing down his thrusts to a lazy, delicate ones. “I couldn’t get a kiss all day, I need it. Let me.” And when you saw his eyes, full of desperation and something that reminded you of adoration, you couldn’t keep denying him. Your lips touched his and he didn’t let go of them until you came, and later when he began growling straight into your mouth, chasing his own undoing.
It was the last time you met up, and after that you decided that you had to cut it off completely. You couldn’t continue being with him like this, not when you knew that he already loved someone else. Being with him this close messed with your head. You didn’t want to feel like a convenient second choice and you couldn’t help but feel that your meetings were slowly becoming more and more intimate. You had to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t together. You made sure to label the change in your relationship properly at the start of the arrangement — still on friendly terms, with occasional mutual pleasure. But the close proximity and constant intimacy started to make the lines blurry in your mind.
And your heart couldn’t take it anymore, it hurt every time you reminded yourself that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, and that he never will.
After that movie night you decided that the next step to your goal would be to stop engaging in small talk with him, especially the one that occurred at work.
You worked together at the Hunter’s Association, he was one of the best Hunters out there, and you specialized in weapon modification from the safety of your own desk. You wanted to be a hunter once, but with your Evol involving micromodification you guessed that you could be needed in a position that involved working with weaponry. After working there for years, you were passionate about your work and elated to have a job you loved and where you thrived while helping others to the best of your abilities.
Thus, because of the shared place of employment, you saw Xavier almost every day. He was often near your desk, passing by it, putting snacks before you or teasing you with that soft smile of his. So cutting the contact out there was one of the toughest jobs for you, but it had to be done.
When you knew that he would be free, you found a task that needed completion in other departments, so that you will not cross paths. Often, instead of others coming to you to fix their weapons, you proposed to make the trip instead. In this way you were always quick on your feet, going from department to department, back to the workshop and again to the others’ desks. You didn’t mind the extra activity, it made you think less about your breaking heart.
And when Xavier managed to catch you from time to time, because he always somehow would, you were trying to appear too busy even for a small conversation.
“Where are you rushing off to again? I didn’t manage to talk to you these past few days.” He said one day when he caught you by your elbow while you were going out of the bathroom. He must’ve seen you go in there and wait for you to come out. He brought you a little closer to himself and looked at your face so intently, that you got scared he could see right through you.
“Sorry Xai, I’m just really busy lately.” You answered, maybe too quickly, and were trying to calm your beating heart upon seeing him so close again. Too close. It didn’t help that he was in his hunter’s uniform, that made him look twice as dreamy. You were so close that you could also smell his comforting scent and see the small scar on his cheek that he got last year after you two tried ice skating for the first time.
The first and the last, for it appeared that you were much better at it than he would ever be, and you wanted to avoid him getting hurt again. It was also before your friends-with-benefits situation, when your friendship was pure and healthy. Your heart squeezed remembering how he grabbed your hand then, and how tightly he used to hold it throughout the whole activity.
“Xavier, are you sure you don’t want to go back home already? I’m afraid that your cut will scar if we leave it like that.” You said, looking at the bandaid on his cheek, the only remedy for his small injury that you could provide at that time.
He squeezed your hand and still appeared sheepish after his fall. You secretly found him adorable, you never saw him doing something in which he didn’t excel in. It was as if he let you see a part of himself that no one had ever seen before. That thought made your chest warmer.
“No. I won’t let the ice defeat me.” He said surely and you knew that he won’t give up, even if his legs already visibly trembled from exhaustion. You let out a sigh. “Besides, you’re holding my hand now, so I feel much safer.” He looked at you, his voice soft and cheeks red, most likely from the cold air. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state made you completely overcome by the feeling of tenderness, and you send him a huge smile, thinking that it was the first time he relied on your protection, and not the other way around.
Little did you know that this smile would catch him by surprise so much that he slipped backwards, this time pulling you down with him. However, your reflexes slightly worked, because you managed to put your hand behind his head, shielding it from the impact with ice. You landed on him with a groan as his hands moved to pull your body closer.
“Oh god, Xai, are you okay? How did that happen?” You asked him, trying to lift yourself off of him. You felt him relax his head further into your hand, and when you raised yourself enough to face him directly, he sent you a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. This sight made your heart melt.
“See, I knew you would protect me.” He replied, clearly referring to your hand behind his head. “My little savior.” He called you, and when you puffed the air out, annoyed that he could have hurt himself for real this time, his smile turned into a full laugh, his body shaking under yours. He looked so angelic, covered in snow, laughing in a way that was so scarce that you couldn’t help but join him in his moment of happiness.
And thanks to your mittens, your hand was left with only a purple bruise from the impact. Still, Xavier couldn’t let you forget about it up to the day it disappeared completely, expressing guilt for the minor injury, his sight chasing your hand every time it appeared in his line of vision. He often caressed it softly with his fingers, looking at it with a mysteriously thoughtful expression, whispering “My little savior.” under his breath. It made you wish that the bruise would never disappear.
You took a step back, suddenly overwhelmed by the memories and the closeness between you. He always invaded your personal space, stood so close that you could almost feel his breath on your face. This time, you had had to cut it out for your own good.
“S’okay. You’re always busy but I guess I just got used to meeting you near your desk. Just text me after work? Maybe we could meet up for our book club today.” He said and you swallowed the awful feeling of longing in your chest. Book club was the term you came up with when you both just wanted to sit and read together for hours. Unfortunately, you knew how book club sessions looked like since the beginning of your friends-with-benefits arrangement.
You were sitting together in silence, reading for hours, then talked about your books until you both lost your breaths. A wonderful experience, you adored your little reading sessions, but you knew that recently they always ended with his lips on yours, and with your clothes scattered around his bedroom.
You couldn’t let this go on forever. You couldn’t go back to being just friends now, and you couldn’t keep him so close, knowing that he will never fully be yours. You pitied your poor heart.
“Sure, will do. See you around!” You were aware how awkward you sounded, but before he could stop you, you were already off to your another task of the day.
You didn’t text him after work, and neither did you reply to his message in time. The next day you send him an excuse that you were tired and fell asleep quickly, and you hoped that he believed it or didn’t care enough to question you further.
If the distance hurt you this bad now, you couldn’t even imagine how would it feel when he eventually would’ve left you for her.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
The next stage of your plan involved not answering his texts at all. You allowed yourself small replies from time to time, most often very brief, if the situation called for it. Replying excuses from left to right. Then, you incorporated not picking up his calls, especially on weekends, when he appeared to want to see you the most, because you were absent from the Association building and he couldn’t catch even a glimpse of you.
The distance you yourself put between you broke your heart, and you were getting more and more depressed by the day. Ignoring the person you loved wasn’t easy, when he was the one with whom you wanted to spend your time the most.
To distract yourself from the situation, you were trying to pass your time differently. You were meeting up with your family and friends, or you started doing things that you were putting off for ages. Everything and anything to fill the void in your heart caused by the absence of the one you loved. The absence forced by you.
It had to be done, you reminded yourself daily. You had to end this somehow, no matter how it hurt you. You had to move on. You couldn’t still be in love with him the day he would end up with MC. You knew it would ruin you.
Three weeks passed since your last meeting at the Association and you could feel that Xavier was getting impatient. His calls were more frequent. His messages longer. Sometimes while running away from him at work you could catch how he was scanning the room in search of you. How frustrated he seemed to be. How upset.
You understood it. You were best friends after all, and he also probably needed someone near him to help him get his head clear of MC. You knew that it must’ve been hard for him. But you were sure you were doing the right thing, that’s why you kept avoiding him during the past month, and not only it was the longest period you’ve been away from each other since the start of your complicated arrangement, but also the longest time since the start of your friendship. Even when the times were rough, you managed to see each other at least once or twice a week.
You felt the pain of the distance too. Missing him almost every second of the day. But you had your reasons. You didn’t want to try to satiate the hunger he felt for another woman anymore.
So every time his name appeared on your phone screen, along with the picture of him shoving two muffins into his mouth at the same time, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and waited out the signal, simultaneously praying for and dreading the silence.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
On a quiet rainy day, after a month of ignoring almost every attempt to make contact from Xavier, you heard your phone ping thrice. You sighed and put the book you were reading down, deciding that it was a good moment to reply something short to him in order to slightly ease his worries, and make him feel less alarmed. You wanted distance, but you still sticked to responding from time to time, to appear casual. To let the connection break off less abruptly.
xavier: why cant I see U at all recently.
xavier: why are U not picking up my calls and not replying to my texts.
xavier: are U hiding from me?
you: Of course not, just busy.
xavier: busy for me but not busy for others I know U are going out all the time.
xavier: are U mad at me? did I do something wrong.
you: No, you didn’t, don’t worry. It’s just me. I have a lot of things on my mind recently.
xavier: could U please have me on Ur mind too? I miss U.
xavier: so bad it hurts
You let out a rugged breath, and decided to stop responding, but then another text came. This time, making your blood run cold.
xavier: going back from a rough mission right now i think i need help.
you: Oh my god, are you okay? Are you injured?
xavier: cant tell U why dont you come and see me for Urself.
you: Fine, I need to see if you’re okay. Do you need anything? Food? Medicine? I will pick something up on my way there.
xavier: i just need U
You closed your eyes and hid your face in your palms, then swore it would be the last time. You will go in, treat his wounds and go out. It had to be the last time you allowed yourself to be this close to him, and then you had to cut him off completely. A month wasn’t enough to heal your broken heart, and these small sightings won’t make your heart feel any less burdened.
It had to end today.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
When the door opened, he managed to take your breath away once more.
First, only figuratively. His beauty always managed to amaze you. He looked so handsome no matter the circumstances, his hair so fluffy and shiny, his face like that of an angel, with sharp jawline and soft, pink lips almost screaming at you to be kissed. When you met his eyes, you almost gasped at the intensity of his deep blue gaze. There wasn’t a thing about him you didn’t miss terribly after so much time apart.
Then, literally, when the first thing he did was grabbing your hand and hugging you tightly to his chest, that was still clothed in his hunter uniform. He pressed his face into the crown of your hair and touched the nape of your neck, holding it gently with his cold hand.
“Was the mission that difficult?” You asked, thinking that his reaction to you was mostly due to his need for someone else’s closeness. The need for security. “Were you in danger?” You asked quietly, fear bubbling in your mind.
“No. I lied.” He murmured and you felt him squeezing you even harder, inhaling your scent with content. His hand started stroking your back, slowly making its way under your thin coat. “Didn’t know what else to say to make you come see me.” He said and you hoped that he couldn’t hear, nor feel the sound of your erratic heartbeat.
He shouldn’t say things like these, it made you feel too hopeful. You tried to push that feeling down, knowing that’s how he normally acted with you, his best friend. You knew that he didn’t have a lot of people beside him, thus he treasured the ones that stayed. And that thought made you so incredibly apologetic that you had to swallow the tension in your throat. You hated that you fell for him so hard. You hated that you had to leave him because of it. You hated that you knew, that he would blame himself when you’ll leave.
And you started to hate yourself the most because of all of it.
“Did you miss me that much?” You teased, trying to calm yourself with a friendly banter.
“Yes.” The answer was immediate. The kiss he placed on your temple as natural as breathing. “Everything and everyone seems to be taking you away from me these days.” He said and you could hear him sulking. Your heart squeezed again, but you knew that you were doing the right thing. The distance was necessary.
Necessary for you to avoid breaking. You had to protect yourself first, you decided. You couldn’t remain in love with him forever. You had to move on and in order to do that you had to keep the distance. Which was impossible with him around, when he craved physical touch so badly.
You started to be so mad at yourself for breaking your streak today. You didn’t realize how touchy he will be after some time apart and it was getting to your head. You were so conflicted. You felt too much, and that was always the case when you were around him.
He was in love with someone else. Your head was screaming loudly, trying to calm the wave of unwanted emotions.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered. I love you, you thought. “But now I’m here, so maybe I can inspect you for any injuries? You always seem to neglect them as long as they don’t make you bleed out.” You managed to free yourself from his hold and missed how his hands went after you for a second. He didn’t want you to put distance between you two. Not yet, not ever.
He looked into your beautiful, shiny eyes and nodded without a thought. He couldn’t say no to you, not when he saw the still remaining hint of worry in them. Besides, checking for injuries always came with physical contact, and he was so starved. He needed to feel your body close to his. Your hands on him, somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. He felt addicted and craved some kind of relief. He looked after you like a lost puppy, following your footsteps closely, touching the familiar material of your coat that you left on a counter. The distance this past month made him feral, every part of his body screamed to hold you and don’t let go.
You sat down on his couch, and patted the place next to you, hinting at him to sit beside you. He was trying not to appear too eager while doing so, and also when he started taking off the upper part of his uniform. He was almost shaking with excitement knowing that you really came to see him. That you were worried about him. The distance was making him sick. Furious. Desperate. Hurt.
He suppressed a shudder when you touched his shoulder and peeled away the material off his back completely. Your hands were pleasantly warm, as always. He bit his lip trying not to gasp from the contact.
He needed more.
“Xavier.” He hummed, giddy inside upon finally hearing his name from your lips. He was bracing for your outburst. Couldn’t wait for it. “You said you lied about the mission being hard, while having a fucking gash on your back? I-I can’t believe you...” He heard your angry, shaky voice and smirked unintentionally. You were worried about him and he liked that. He liked the attention, when it was coming from you.
Yet, you didn’t know that.
You cursed under your breath and went to grab the first aid kit from one of his drawers, and proceeded to patch the man back up, having no idea that he allowed the Wanderer to injure him, to have an excuse to see you. To keep you with him for a minute longer, even if it was only under the pretense of tending to his injuries. He was ready to do anything at this point to keep you from slipping away from his grasp.
If you knew that, you wouldn’t be so adamant on distancing yourself.
But because you didn’t know, you also didn’t predict that after patching him up, he would propose you to eat dinner with him, making up an excuse that he didn’t want to be alone with his pain. Later, when you wanted to come back to your place, he mentioned he wanted to play kitty cards, the game you adored. You couldn’t refuse him.
During the next hours you spent at his place you both talked in the same way you always used to - about everything and anything, exchanging opinions, stories and everyday thoughts. You laughed together for the first time in weeks, and your cheeks hurt from how much he was able to make you smile. You always had so much fun with him, he was your favorite person in the whole world. You missed him so bad, despite knowing that you couldn’t back out from your plan fully. Yet, you allowed yourself a little break, telling yourself that it was in order for your distancing to not look suspicious. In addition, he was injured, and you felt the need to comfort him in any way you could. The gash on his back wasn’t that deep, but it worried you regardless.
The atmosphere changed drastically only when he managed to win the next round of kitty cards. You jokingly frowned at him, forging displeasure, and he looked directly at your pounting lips. The time seemed to stop when you noticed that look. He raised his hand to touch your collarbone, caressing it with his fingers, up to your neck and over your cheek. He looked deeply into your eyes, and you noticed how dark his became. You found it fascinating that his soft gaze could change so drastically in a matter of seconds.
His hand reached out to grab your chin and brought your face closer to his. And when he whispered: “Could I ask for a reward?” with that dangerous, needy voice of his, you knew that you couldn’t deny him anything.
When your lips touched, you decided that it will be the last time you let it happen. It would be your goodbye, before loosing the feel of his touch. You thought that you could at least make the best of it, get lost in the artificial feeling of being treasured for the last time, before you started the last phase of your plan.
After that, you had to cut off the ties with him completely. No matter the measures. No matter the pain.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
“Xavier, m-maybe not today?” You asked when you realized how low he was going with his kisses. You knew what he was about to do, and you hated how much you couldn’t contain the sounds that were coming out of your mouth when he was doing it. Besides, it didn’t feel like a mutual pleasure anymore, it felt like an act of service and you were not sure you wanted him to pleasure only you.
He looked at you, having already dropped to his knees. He looked ruined, his hair already a mess from the touch of your fingers, lips wet and swollen, shirt off displaying his toned chest, bandaged in the center with caution. He was practically heaving. The sight made you blush.
“Why not?” He voice sounded whiny, his lips already kissing the inside of your thigh as if he couldn’t restrain himself. Every kiss send electricity to your already wet core and you found it hard to think clearly. His hands were grabbing your tights possessively, relishing in their softness. “Please, let me eat you out. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” The pleading in his eyes was so apparent. So unfiltered.
“Don’t you want to get to the point already?” You offered shyly and he huffed out a laugh.
“Where are you trying to run off to this time?” It sounded like a joke, but he appeared annoyed. “Relax, starlight and let me take care of you. Please.” You still hesitated. It made him pout. “I need it, please, star. I want to taste you so bad. I didn’t manage to last time.” He kissed your knee and put his head on it, looking for the answer in your unsure eyes. “Will you let me?” His pleading tone, along with his desperate gaze was what made you break. You whispered a soft confirmation and it was all it took before he quickly put his mouth on your core, licking vigorously, devouring you like the most delicious thing on the planet.
“Mmmm.” You heard him humming, before your own cries, along with the constant tremble of your legs, drowned out any other sound.
He was elated.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
“Mmmh— Yes. Yes. H—holy—” He whimpered at the same time with his thrusts and squeezed your waist harder, moving his hands up and down your back, caressing it affectionately. “You are s-so warm, so beautiful, fuck—” He moaned when you tightened on him. You stiffed a whimper and tried to commit to memory the touch of his strong hands.
He was taking you slowly from behind and the pace was almost unbearable for you. You needed more, and you couldn’t stand how romantic it felt when he was this gentle with you. However, at the same time you didn’t want him to strain himself, you were aware that the slow pace was reasonable due to the injury on his back. The slow pace did surprise you either way, you thought that after so much time apart he would be quick and rough, chasing his pleasure faster than he normally would. Instead, he acted even more passionately than usual.
The slow pace brought you so much pleasure that you couldn’t contain the sounds escaping from your lips. He kept pressing your most sensitive spots, his thrusts slow, deep and precise. His forehead rest on the back of your shoulder, and you could feel his hot, labored breath pressing against your damp skin.
He made you feel so appreciated, and so cared for, and that made you uneasy. More so, with the accompaniment of the things he was constantly saying to you, from the moment you allowed him to touch you today.
“Can you turn around now? Please, my star, I want to see you.” He half-whispered and started kissing your neck, then moving his mouth to every patch of your skin he could reach: your shoulders, back, arms. No place was left unkissed under his relentless lips. You shook your head no, you didn’t want to let this become even more passionate than it already was. You positioned yourself facing the headboard of the bed from the very beginning, and you were adamant to keep your stance up until the end. You feared that your eyes would betray you, displaying your feelings for him and that was what made you not lose your composure.
Upon hearing your refusal for the third time this night, he proceeded to voice his frustrations by grunting, and thrust into you a little harder. You moaned loudly, surprised at the sudden change of tempo.
“Please, starlight.” He begged, his voice achingly earnest. He picked up the pace and you almost choked with how deep he reached inside of you now. You thought that you could never get used to how big he was, his girth filling you up to the brim. “Turn around. T-turn around for me.”
“X-xavier slow down, I don’t want you to get hurt—” You managed to choke out, grasping sheets with your hands for some kind of stability. You closed your eyes when they were turning upwards, biting your lip in the process. He felt otherworldly, but you couldn’t help but think about the gash on his back. He shouldn’t strain himself.
“Then turn around and look at me.” He repeated and you shook your head again.
“I-I can’t, I—Ah—”
“W-why do you keep—Mmh—denying me?” His voice came out like a growl and he kept up the fast tempo. Then, he grabbed your shoulder and put his other hand on your lower back, making you bend over more. His thrusts got even faster, making you moan louder. “Like that. Yes.” You breathed quietly. So good. He was so, so good. “I just want to see your face. I need to kiss y—A—Ah—Kiss you so bad, so, so, so bad.” He thrusted more deeply, making you involuntarily back out from the stimulation, your body almost collapsing, but he quickly grabbed you with his strong arms, and brought you even closer to him. You saw stars and touched one of the arms that held your whole body — from your waist, between your breasts, to your neck. His arm was so hard, so strong. He was huge compared to you. “No, n-no, don’t run away, star. You feel so good—G-God how I missed this—” He held you closer by the second, pressing more kisses to your shoulders, his thrusts becoming quicker, less deep. You were holding back your tears from how good he felt inside you. “I missed you. I missed you. I miss you.” He started babbling and that’s how you knew he was close.
To your surprise, he suddenly pulled out of you completely and grabbed you by your shoulders, turning you around to finally face him. Before you could show any signs of protest, he lowered himself onto his forearms, caging your head between his biceps so that he could have a perfect view of your face. He took his cock in one of his hands and he slipped himself into you again with ease. You shuddered and cried out softly with astonishment.
“Xavier—!”
“Yes. Yes, that’s my name.” He started thrusting into you again, this time much slower and more attentive, and looked deep into your eyes. You had nowhere to run, the only thing you could do was to close your eyes, but the sight of him so close made you want to never look away. “Say it one more time. Just once.” He looked ethereal, his silver hair wet from the perspiration that gathered oh his forehead, and his cheeks painted a pretty shade of red. You could see how blissful he felt. “So p-pretty.” He finally kissed your lips softly. “So sweet.” He licked into your mouth, deepening the kiss. It made your toes curl, you loved when he kissed you this sloppily. When he released your already swollen lips, there was a string of saliva connecting you. It was all so intense.
“Why were you denying my kisses?” He kissed you again deeply, sucking on your tongue. His slow thrusts made you go insane. “You don’t like kissing me like this?” He sucked on your lips until they were red and swollen. There was so much saliva. He licked them and kissed them again. “I could come from this feeling alone. So soft.” You were shocked at how much he talked. Was he always this talkative? Or were you realizing it only now, when you knew that the closeness with him would soon come to an end?
“Am I making you feel good? Yeah?” You decided to nod at him truthfully, your moans short, resembling small hiccups. You were lost in the pleasure, you could feel the end approaching. He put his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “W—wow, you—you sound so adorable, I won’t last long—” He moaned and grabbed your face in his hands, kissing your nose first, then softly your lips.
“Yes, yeah, let go. Let go my little star. My starlight, my treasure.” He whispered into your ear, feeling you clench down on him as you came with his name on your lips. You felt him reaching the end quickly after you, he shuddered, his mouth opened, and he released into the condom with a low moan. Still cumming, he took your face into his hands and kissed your forehead gently. When you both were still coming down from the high, breathing heavily, he began stroking your hair, pushing it out of your face, and kissing your cheeks.
What in the world was all that?
God, you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t let this keep up, it felt too real, too romantic, and your heart really couldn’t take it. Not when every time you were together like this you keep thinking that he would like you to be someone else instead. Did he imagined her under him this time? You trembled, scared because of that thought, but the things he was saying made you feel that it really could be the case.
Your breath came out shakily and you took his muscular forearms in your palms and grazed them gently with your thumbs. You let yourself feel for the last time how warm his body was, how pleasurable his weight on top of you. You kept your eyes closed to not let him see your tears, but you couldn’t stop one from going down your cheek.
And of course he saw it as soon as it appeared. He seemed to always look at you when you wanted him to ignore you the most.
He kissed it off, swiped the wetness with his thumb and proceeded to kiss your temple.
“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Did I hurt you?” He appeared so concerned, and you felt the shivers going down your spine.
Yes, you wanted to scream.
“No, of course not.” You said instead. Because it was your fault for feeling too much. “I’m okay, just tired.” You lied straight to his face. He send you a small smile and kissed your closed eyelids gently.
And when he shifted and pulled out from you slowly with a little hiss, you let out a sigh and knew that your time with him had to end now.
But before you could lift yourself up, he hugged you from the side and put his head on your chest. He was listening to the sound of your heartbeat, and you already knew that it had a soothing effect on him. His hand started caressing one side of your waist, his hair touching your chin, his scent overlapping you. You could feel his heartbeat on you, fast but steady. Another tear escaped from your eyes. You had to run away. You couldn’t take the closeness anymore. It was too painful.
“Xavier, I—” You swallowed the sob forming in your throat. Your voice came out rusty. “I really need to go.”
“Already? Stay with me for a little while longer.” He squeezed you harder to himself, showing no intention of releasing you from his hold. You hated that you needed to cut short such a vulnerable moment with him. “The night is still young. I thought we could maybe watch something together? Or bake these cinnamon cookies you like? I practiced, they taste and look almost perfect now.” You closed your eyes hard, moved by his thoughtfulness, and you almost sobbed audibly if it wasn’t for your hand quickly covering your mouth.
But he felt it, and it made all the muscles in his body tighten, as if he was struck.
“Star?” He loosed his hold on you and quickly studied your face. “What’s wrong?” His eyes became huge, filled with worry. And that concern on his features was what finally made you run.
You raised gently and pushed yourself from him, starting to pick up your scattered pieces of clothing. Your hands shakily put the panties and your sweater on your trembling body, not once looking Xavier’s way. He was waiting patiently for your answer.
“I can’t do this anymore, Xavier.” You replied, feeling more comfortable now that you had some clothes on. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you heard him standing up from the bed.
“Do what?” He sounded puzzled. You heard him grabbing and putting on some pants hastily, clicking his belt in place. As if he was preparing to run after you. “Did I do something wrong? You didn’t like it today? Was I too intense?” You had never heard him speak so quickly, and the panic in his tone was a rare occurrence too.
“No, it’s— I am at fault here.” You answered truthfully, and you took a couple steps away from him. You wanted to run as fast as you could but for the love of God, you couldn’t locate any other pieces of your clothing. Your eyesight was clouded by unleashed tears. No, not now, you couldn’t let them fall until you were in the safety of your home.
“But you were perfect.” His voice carried more panic by the second. “We could change some things. You could tell me what to do differently, everything works with me as long as I do it with you.”
You suddenly remembered the beginning of your night, and rushed to his living room, were you finally found your pants.
“No. No, and please stop trying to persuade me. This—this friends with benefits thing, it ends now.” You uttered surely, now fully clothed. You turned around and finally laid your eyes on him, and saw him wearing only black jeans and a miserable expression on his face. God, he still looked perfect. He almost shined, the workout clearly visible on his face, his hair, his lips. Your resolution almost wavered.
“Okay. Okay, of course, I—I understand.” He answered quickly, and you felt a slight pang in your chest at how easily he took the news. This whole time you were so easily disposable. “But please stay. I want to spend some time with you, I haven’t seen you in such a long time.” He took a careful step towards you, and you wanted to bolt then and there. “Please, stay.”
“No, Xai, I—” You paused to take a breath, trying not to crumble in front of him. His worried expression felt like a knife to your chest. You were his best friend, yet here you were, clearly wanting to run away from him—how could you expect him to feel anything but hurt upon such a sight? You felt incredibly cruel. “I really can’t. I think I need a break from all—all of this.”
“You mean from me?” He didn’t wait for your answer, the thoughts in his head seemed to go quicker than lightning. “No, please, I swear that if you don’t like it then I won’t touch you anymore. I swear.” You hated how upset he sounded. You closed your eyes for a second and fresh tears slipped away. You couldn’t keep them from falling anymore. “You know how much you mean to me. Don’t make me stay away.” He looked as if you were tearing his heart out, his posture slumped, hands shaking. How you wished you could take them into your own and warm them up.
“I have to.” Your voice came out whiny. He stepped closer to you, keeping his arms in front of himself.
“But why?” His question was quiet, nearly a whisper. He couldn’t help but wonder, if you really wanted a break from him, then why were you crying as if you didn’t want to go?
“I—” You stopped yourself before going as far as to utter a confession. He couldn’t know. Not now. Not ever. “This— This situation, and how our friendship looks like right now it’s—it’s so wrong.” You opted for a response that was the closest to the truth.
“It’s not.” He replied immediately. “Not for me.”
“Well it is for me. Friends don’t sleep with each other, Xavier! We messed up so bad this time and I’m afraid we can’t let this past us.”
“Do you regret it that much?” His voice was losing its’ strength, and he seemed so utterly hurt. Meanwhile, you were just trying to protect yourself from feeling even more pain. How could you make him understand without confessing to him? You didn’t really know because you were always honest with him before. He was your safe place.
And to think that everything could be avoided, your friendship left unscratched if only you could control your feelings better. But you had no idea how to stop loving him so deeply, when he was everything that you’ve ever dreamed of.
“I should. I know that I should, it was never going to end well, I—”
“Stay. Please, starlight, stay. At least for one more night, let me hold you just for one more—” His arms went out to grab you and you flinched, taking a few steps back. His jaw tightened.
He was always afraid that he will see you run away from his touch. He felt as if his nightmare became reality - the thought of loosing you too much for him to bear.
“Xavier, I can’t!” You trembled all over. Why did he make this so hard for you? “I can’t do this with you anymore, can’t you understand how much it hurts me?” The truth was at the tip of your tongue, craving to be spoken out loud.
“Why? Why does it hurt you? The only one who has a good reason to be hurt is me, you avoided me, ignored me, and for what? If you just talked to me honestly one time—”
“You are in love with someone else!”
The silence that followed was unbearable and seemed to last ages. Slow ticking of the clock was the only thing cutting through the tension, reminding you that the time didn’t stop, even if your heart seemed to do so.
You turned to him, the tears falling from your eyes in cascades now and your chest was coming up and down rapidly with how fast you were breathing.
The tears run down your cheeks quickly, making your vision less blurry. How you wished that they stayed in place, if that meant that you wouldn’t have to see Xavier’s pained expression, that quickly changed into one of utter confusion. You were shaking with how much you were feeling, your frustration pooling out of you in a form of shaking hands and bitten lips.
“I can’t continue being like this with you when I know that you’re in love with her! And I get it! I really do. She’s so wonderful, and so, so lovable. And I could never be her, no matter how much you would want me to be. I just don’t want to be a replacement anymore.” You continued, the desperation in your voice almost making you wince. You sounded pathetic and felt so embarrassed for it. You felt as if you were loosing the ground beneath your feet.
“What?” He said completely stunned. He wasn’t moving a single muscle. “What on earth are you talking about?” He hissed, and took a step towards you, and when you shook your head and wanted to bolt through the door, he quickly grabbed you by your wrist and pressed your body close to his. You gasped at the contact, so sudden and forced. “No, stop running away from me!” He raised his voice, still holding your wrist tightly. You’ve never heard him sound so irritated. “Speak.” You kept your head low, when he was desperately trying to catch eye contact, but you couldn’t look at him right now. Not when your true feelings were basically flowing to the surface.
“About what? You really thought I didn’t know about your feelings for her?” You struggled to keep your voice from shaking. “Xavier, I know, and I knew from the very beginning, and you really don’t have to explain yourself to me. I really understand.” You tried to free your wrist from his grasp, but he held it too tightly. You needed to run, this conversation wasn’t supposed to happen, you didn’t even have a reason to be mad at him. You couldn’t blame him for not loving you romantically, nor for feeling this way towards someone else. You were only friends, and friends should be happy for each other when they find someone dear to them, not sick of the idea of loosing the other to someone else.
“I’m afraid you actually don’t understand anything.” He sounded almost defeated. His voice back to it’s soft tone, but his hold on you unrelenting.
“It’s really okay, I—”
“No.” He scoffed. You finally gained enough courage to let your eyes meet his and you were instantly appalled at how furious he appeared to be. “It’s truly NOT.” He released your wrist and put his hands up to stroke his hair back. He breathed out loudly. “Who the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, confusion and irritation taking over his features completely. You never saw him wear that expression while talking with you.
“Oh, don’t make me—” You cut off, seeing his furious glare. You took a deep breath, stepped back from him and touched your cheek, trying to swipe the wetness caused by your tears. You failed, they were still coming down, one by one, making your efforts futile. “MC. You know that I mean MC.”
“You have to be fucking kidding me.” He groaned and let his head fall back. He covered his face with his hands for a second, and when he looked at you again, you couldn’t read his expression correctly. “Who told you about it? Where did you get it from?”
“Jeremiah.” That’s all he needed to know. And apparently it was enough for him to grasp the situation. He laughed humorlessly and shook his head, his hands squeezed tightly into fists by his sides.
“I will strangle him this time. I swear, I will—”
“Oh, please, Xavier, stop! What’s so wrong about me knowing? I was glad that someone finally enlightened me!” You couldn’t believe that he was so angry at you for knowing such an important thing. Not when from the moment Jeremiah said that he had a thing for MC for a long time, you wondered why he kept that a secret from you. “You never even said a word about it even though I thought we were best friends. I had to learn from someone else and that already hurt.” You wanted this conversation to be over. You wanted him to admit to it already and let you go away, with a broken, but at least free heart.
But he had different plans.
“Have you maybe thought that I never said a word about it simply because it wasn’t true?” He asked carefully, his voice still angry. “I just can’t believe you thought that I loved someone else—”
“What?” Your mind went blank. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. “What do you mean it’s not true?” You sniffed quietly, confusion taking over your face.“B-But Jeremiah said that you had a past with her and—”
“I did. I had feelings for her once, but that was literal lifetimes ago!” His irritation didn’t ease in the slightest. “I had feelings for someone who looked similar to her. But she’s not the same person anymore, and even if she was I couldn’t possibly fall in love with her. Not now, not ever.” You stopped in your tracks, trying to analyze everything he was saying to you and failing miserably at it. You looked at his face, your expression puzzled, searching for an answer there, hidden between his beautiful, soft features. It shocked you to see that now he started to calm himself down, gaze genuine, an image of complete transparency.
You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that you were mistaken. All this time, when you thought you never stood a chance, when you thought that he loved another, when you wanted to let him go—
“You’re not in love with MC.” It wasn’t a question anymore, your voice quiet while you were trying to process that thought. He must’ve seen how you fought with the thoughts inside your head, because he released a groan and took a step towards you. You unintentionally took one step back. He frowned.
“Of course I’m not.” Voice sweet like honey, stance sure, his eyes searched desperately for yours. He looked at your face, covered in tears and his eyebrows furrowed deeper, hating how upset you seemed and didn’t know how to reverse it. “How could I ever be, when your face is all I can see, every time I close my eyes?” He uttered looking at you with such devotion that it almost made your knees buckle.
Complete silence took over your thoughts after his confession. You didn’t know what was happening.
But fortunately, his mind finally started to piece everything together in a picture, that although was beyond frustrating to think about, was giving him so much hope for something he thought he already lost.
He allowed himself to relax, took a deep breath and finally decided to drop his inner shackles, letting his emotions flow out of him without restraint.
“You are the one that I love.” He said clearly, not moving a muscle. He wondered if you could see the quick movement of his chest, with how hard his heart was trying to escape through it to reach you. Whereas, you felt as if yours stopped moving completely, along with the time around you, not ready to believe that this was truly happening. “It was you from the very beginning. I adored you since the day I first saw you.” He continued, his gaze piercing into your face, slight confusion visible on his features. “And I thought that was obvious? I wasn’t exactly the best at hiding my feelings, especially after I told you about them the first night we spend together.”
You blinked slowly. Once, then twice.
Your head hurt. You couldn’t wrap it around everything he was saying. Xavier was in love with you? And he already told you about it? You were so confused that the only way you knew how to react was with denial.
“You—You didn’t. I didn’t know, you are not being serious.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“I did. You really don’t remember?” His tone softened, and he waited a short second for your answer, but couldn’t contain his nerves. “It was the night I kissed you for the first time, thinking that would be the last. But you reciprocated.” His eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and you found yourself holding your breath, afraid even the slightest sound might interrupt the flow of his confession.
“You—You kissed me back, and let me do things to you I only ever dared to dream about before.” He took another step your way, a small smile grazing his handsome face. “And the confession slipped out of me so naturally before we even reached the bed.” He briefly recalled that fateful night, describing the conversations you forgot, but longed to remember since that very moment.
“You didn’t reply, but you responded nicely to my touch, so I thought that meant that you wanted me too, that maybe you’d accept me. As your beloved. Your soulmate.” You brought your hand to cover your mouth. You couldn’t believe it. “But then in the morning when you woke up, you were panicking. I tried to reassure you, but you weren’t listening to me.”
That part of the story you knew by heart, him telling you that he couldn’t forget, didn’t want to forget. Back then you didn’t connect it with anything close to confession, but more with the change in your relationship. You really didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, you didn’t even dream about him loving you, when you though that he loved MC. Insecurities and false assumptions completely clouded your vision.
“And when you proposed staying friends, with the bonus of intimacy, of course I took the chance. I thought you remembered my confession and didn’t reciprocate my feelings, but I was so desperate that I would take anything you were willing to give me, even if it didn’t involve your love. I—” he cut off, blush flushed over his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. He took a shaky breath. “I was clinging to the hope that maybe through the new shared intimacy I could show you how much you meant to me. And maybe, maybe someday you would start feeling the same, when you realized how good we are together and how good I can be for you.”
“Xavier—Oh my god.” You breathed, your hand still covering your mouth, your eyes never leaving his face. His beautiful, starstruck face, now so full of confusion and unspoken hurt. “Bunny, I’m so, so, so sorry. I had no idea, I—” Your voice practically a whisper, you were still coming to terms with the fact that your feelings were reciprocated. And that you were the one who complicated things between you. “I don’t remember anything you said to me that night. I couldn’t even hear you through the sound of my own blood thrumming in my ears, that’s how drunk I felt. How overwhelmed after our first kiss.”
The alcohol consumed that night also wasn’t of big help. You were a lightweight and you drunk only occasionally, so the few drinks you had already made you feel dizzy. Mixed with the intensity of your emotions, it overwhelmed you so intensely that his touch was all you could remember from that night. But now you could make it all alright.
“I only remember your touch, the things we did, and our conversation the next morning. I remember touching your hand and initiating the kiss, and my tipsy brain just thought that you went with it to forget about MC.” You said truthfully, letting it all pour out of you. Your cheeks burned with the embarrassment of admitting how desperate you were for him, that the thought he loved another didn’t stop you from having sex with him.
Then the blush deepened from the realization that from the very beginning the only one he was thinking about was you.
This thought made your head spin, the happiness slowly bubbling in your chest. Your whole body trembled.
“That’s— Fuck. You really don’t remember.” He shook his head again, realizing how deep the misunderstanding reached. “You didn’t initiate anything. I was the one who kissed you first.”
“No, I—”
“Yes. You touched my hand, smiled at me contentedly and said some things and I—I just couldn’t restrain myself any longer.” This time you were the one who started approaching him slowly. You needed him close. Always. And you realized that now you didn’t have any reasons to deny yourself that lack of distance. “You looked so soft, so open and kissable, and I just went for it. And then you reciprocated.” The light in his eyes started sparkling when he noticed that you were finally coming closer to him. He reached out his hand for you and you took it gently, still shaking from the unspoken emotions.
“I can’t believe it. All this time I thought that you were in love with someone else.” His hand was warm, the touch electrifying. You squeezed his hand and intertwined your fingers together. You saw how between your clasped hands, his Evol started shining brightly, shading soft light upon your features. It was a sign that he was excited. “I tried to put a distance between us, end this intimacy because I thought that I was just a second best for you. An easy distraction.”
“How could you think that? Almost from the moment I met you, I have loved you passionately—” He brought you even closer together, pulling you by your intertwined hands, and put his other hand on your cheek. He swiped the reminder of your tears with his fingers, looking into your eyes with a devotion so apparent that it took your ability to form coherent thoughts. How did you manage to miss the way he was always looking your way?
“X-Xavier.”
“I couldn’t even think about anyone else even if I tried to. You occupy my every thought. How could I ever find a place for somebody else in my heart when you fill the space out completely?” Everything that came out of his mouth was laced with impatience. He was trying so hard to make you understand him, and the intensity of his emotions. He couldn’t psychically hold it inside anymore, he restrained himself for so long that he felt as if all of his walls finally crumbled. He needed you to know everything.
“I love you, starlight. I’m so in love with you that I couldn’t contain that feeling inside anymore. I couldn’t even spend five minutes in your presence without trying to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you. My whole body longs for you constantly.” He said, thinking off the months after you started being friends with benefits. How at first he wasn’t sure how much he could take from you, and then, when he noticed that you didn’t mind the affection outside the bedroom, he couldn’t contain himself. He kissed you every time he had a chance, he touched you everywhere he could, he was trying to stay away from you as little as possible. Despite thinking that you did not reciprocate his feelings fully, his love for you flowed out of him naturally, every look and every touch laced with unconditional devotion.
During the period of your silence and avoiding him, he thought that it was because he finally crossed a line. He let his feelings out too much, he finally made you uncomfortable. He was starting to act as you lover, not as your friend and it wasn’t what you agreed to. He thought you still didn’t love him and maybe that was a sign that you never will. And even if that could be the case, he still couldn’t let you go.
And it appeared that he didn’t have to.
That you were not uncomfortable, but unsure.
That it was all a huge misunderstanding.
And the words that came out of your pretty, little mouth next, almost brought him to his knees.
“Xavier. Xavier me too, I—” You stuttered, completely overwhelmed by how much you were feeling. You squeezed his wrists, and looked deep into his beautiful, hopeful eyes. “I love you too. And I fell in love with you long before our first night together. I just thought that it was wishful thinking, because your heart was already taken by someone else. And that I could just stay beside you as your friend and that would be enough. And then share your bed from time to time, if that meant that I could hold you close, be on the receiving end of your affection.” You said and raised on your feet to place a quick kiss on his lips. He chased after you instantly, despite appearing stunned. You noticed his hands were shaking.
“You really mean it?” He asked, leaning towards you, kissing your lips again, this time for longer. He had trouble keeping his mouth away from yours, especially now, that he knew that every one of your kisses was filled with love. “Am I not dreaming this time?” You smiled and stroked his hair affectionately, petting his head, wanting to convey your feelings in every way possible.
“Xavier, I love you.” You repeated, grabbing his head in your palms and looking deep into his eyes. Your voice was strong, leaving no room for uncertainty. “I love you so mu—” He didn’t let you finish that sentence, because he quickly picked you up and spun you around, holding you in his arms. You giggled and put your arms around his neck, holding him tightly, his face buried in your neck. When he stopped, he quickly found your lips again and that kiss felt groundbreaking.
He held you close to him, one hand squeezing you by your waist, and the other holding your jaw gently. His brows furrowed in desperation and his kisses were slow, sensual, sending pleasant shocks throughout your whole body. His tongue made an appearance, and he tasted you in a way that made your legs feel like jelly. He licked into your mouth, grunting lowly, his fingers placing a strand of your hair behind your ear, then tracing patterns on your warm cheek. When you opened your eyes for a second, you could see that the tips of his ears were red. The blush spread through his cheeks too, making him look so adorable.
“It does feel like a dream.” He breathed between kisses. “And sounds too good to be true.” He captured your lips again and you smiled into his mouth. Your heart was about to burst.
“I love you.” You repeated, basking in the feeling of finally being able to say it out loud, be open with your emotions. He released your lips and kissed your forehead. You looked up, and he placed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a wide smile adorning his face.
“Don’t stop saying that. You make me so happy.” He said quietly, and you whispered the confession once again, making him sigh shakily.
“I was so stupid. I should’ve asked you right from the start if what Jeremiah said was true.” You said and hugged him more tightly. “I should’ve told you sooner.” You placed your head on his strong chest, your ear touching his bare body, listening to his fast heartbeat. Your hands were hugging his waist, mindful not to touch his bandaged back.
“No, I foolishly thought that telling you once would suffice. I forgot that you drank that night and that could’ve clouded your memory.” He squeezed you harder to himself and started back away with you in his arms, until the back of his legs touched his couch. He feel into it, holding you close, making you sit on his lap. “To think that I could have you sooner—” He looked into your eyes, as if searching for something.
“You had me before, and you have me now. My heart, my body, my soul.” You positioned yourself more comfortably, placing your legs on both sides of his waist, and took his face into your hands. He closed his eyes at the contact, and started to caress your body, from your waist, down to your legs. He squeezed the plush of your tights and let his head fall against the couch pillows.
He couldn’t believe that this was happening. He prayed that this wasn’t a dream, that all of the things your were telling him were true. His chest vibrated pleasurably, incredible warmth spreading through it. His heart beat so quickly, and so loudly that he thought it was the first time he felt its’ beat so intensely himself. Your words made him feel drunk with emotion.
He opened his eyes to look at your face.
He almost choked with how beautiful you were. How divine, sitting on him, caressing his shoulders, smiling at him with the stars in your eyes. He looked at your lips, full and swollen, bearing the signs of his kisses. He looked at your neck, delicate and unmarked, and he stroked it with the back of his hand, wanting to change that fact immediately, knowing that now he was allowed to do that. He switched his gaze to your eyes again and drank them in, basking in their light, wishing that this moment could never end. Or maybe it should, so it could become your new beginning.
You were his treasure. His star, his light, guiding him through life, making his existence worth pursuing. You showed him that the world can be beautiful, despite it’s overbearing cruelty. You were his salvation, his safe place, his one and only, showing him every single day that he mattered, that he was not a lost cause, or a villain in disguise. You taught him that he was capable of loving so intensely and now, that he was loved as passionately in return.
He doubted his worth, but the only way he knew to prove his love for you was by protecting you with his very life. You had no idea, but his sword, now a symbol of your bond, was yours to command—and you were the only reason he continued to wield it.
“What are you thinking about?” Your voice was not more than a whisper, your eyes still looking into his starry ones, losing yourself in the deep blue. You loved them, how magnificent and expressive they were, and you swore to yourself to tell him about it every day.
He seemed to get out of the trace he was in, and his eyes softened, still taking you in. He smiled and took your hands into his, and kissed your knuckles, his kisses gentle and long-lasting.
“You.” He replied shortly, his voice gentle and reassuring. He put your hands on his shoulders, making you hug his neck with them. You complied and put your whole arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer. One of his hands touched your waist, caressing it delicately, and the other one stroked your hair, admiring its’ softness. His eyes never left yours. “Always you, my starlight. Then, now, and till the end of my days. I will always carry you in my mind, and in my heart, to be able to reach you, no matter the distance.” You could feel his breath on your face with how close you were to each other, and he gazed at your open lips, which were already waiting to be kissed senselessly. “I love you, as I never loved anyone else in my life, and I never will again.” His lips captured yours in a kiss so soft, yet so desperate, and full of adoration, that you felt a single, happy tear escape from your eye. He deepened the kiss and held you throughout the night, kissing you and touching you, never wanting the moment to end, the warmth of your skin to become a memory.
It all started with the simplest of touches, and it never truly ended. The spark you ignited that first night has never faded. Since the moment you met, it has burned brightly between you both, a light so powerful that it could be seen across the vastness of deep space. Everlasting and exquisite, just like the different lifetimes you both had ahead of you, always finding each other, as if guided by it’s warmth.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
thank you for your time and please let me know if you liked it!! i was thinking of writing more for this au, maybe from xavier’s perspective? how they met and how he fell in love + how their first night really played out ♡
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fear-is-truth · 2 days ago
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𝓻afe cameron x reader ┊love language — act of service .ᐟ
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your boyfriend walked into the living room, towel slung over his shoulder, still damp from his shower. his hair stuck up in that stupid way it always did when he tried towel-drying it instead of using a dryer. you glanced up from your place on the couch, where you were seated cross-legged with your phone precariously balanced on one knee.
“you’ve got… that thing again,” you said, waving vaguely at your head. rafe frowned. “what thing?”
“the little chicken tuft. it’s like a baby bird trying to take off.” rafe let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing a hand through his hair, which only made it worse. “better?”
“much worse. it’s got a mind of its own now. i fear we may need professional help.” you replied solemnly, setting your phone down and scooting to the edge of the couch.
“i wonder. do you even like me?” though his lips twitched at the corners. you grinned, pushing up to stand on the seats. “mmm. jury’s out. but i’m trying to save your dignity here,” before he could protest, your fingers were threading through his damp hair, smoothing the wayward strands into place. he tilted his head slightly, eyes dropping to yours as you worked with an unnecessary level of focus.
“you don’t have to take this so seriously, y’know,”
“do you wanna look like a pigeon mid-molt? no? then hold still.” he huffed out a laugh, hands settling on your hips as you finished. “there. handsome as ever,” you declared, stepping back and wiping your hands on your thighs.
“that’s all you needed me for? to restore my dignity?”
“partly,” you admitted, smiling, before pointing to the coffee table. “also, that stupid jar of salsa won’t open.” he just shook his head, reaching for the jar and twisting it open with ease. “wow. look at you, big strong man,” you admired the way his biceps flexed. “does it feel good to know you’re way stronger than me?”
“immensely.” handing it back, he added, “do you even try before calling me in for this kind of stuff?”
“i loosened it,” you chirped, setting the jar down and flopping back onto the couch. “c’mere, i need to show you something that’s going to change your life.”
“oh, for fucks sake,” rafe groaned, but still sat beside you, his shoulder brushing yours.
“it’s about otters holding hands while they sleep so they don’t float apart,” you explained, pulling up your phone.“sounds riveting,” he deadpanned, but his arm slid around your shoulders as you clicked the instagram reel.
“it is riveting,” you argued, leaning into his side. “you’re about to feel things.”
“i feel like you’re the strangest girl i’ve ever met,”
“thank you. that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” you replied, resting your head against his chest. rafe sighed, somewhere between exasperated and fond, pressing a kiss to your temple as the reel played. despite his complaints, his hand traced lazy circles on your shoulder.“okay, fine,” he muttered after a while. “it’s kinda cute.”
you smiled against his chest, triumphant. “told you.”
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paddockletters · 19 hours ago
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redeemed | lando norris
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summary: After a messy breakup, Lando’s fans blame his best friend for ruining his relationship. request: yes! sorry took me too long :(( tbh, this had been sitting in drafts for a while because i wasn’t entirely convinced about it (still not 100%, to be fair), but i thought, “Well, maybe they’ll like it,” so here it issss
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landonorris
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Liked by yourusername and 982,273 others
landonorris: Another race weekend!
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user1: I want to be Y/N so baaaad🤧 lando’sgf: love you so muchhhh!!!❤️ user2: Y/N made it again in Lando’s post, love them! user3: I’d love a friendship like Lando and Y/N’s 😭😭😭
yourusername: Great weekend, miss you alredy muppet 🤧❤️
landonorris: It was! When are you coming to visit again?
user4: Lando replied to Y/N but not his gf…💀💀 user5: THE fit, THE smile, THE overtakes 😭 user6: She really needs to back off from Lando and Alice user7: Photo 3 >>> everything else 🫠
lando’sgf posted a story.
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yourusername
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Liked by carlossainz55 and 76,261 others
yourusername: About last month 💗
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carlossainz55: Feeling special for being in your post 🤧
yourusername: You should, cos it won’t happen again 💀
user8: Lando’s smile in the 3rd photo? how do I sign up for your life? 😭 user9: She can’t post without Lando or some driver in it 🤮
user10: True that, she’s all about the fame
user11: living my dream life AND looking flawless while doing it?❤️😭 user12: always getting in the way of Lando and Alice, proper messing with them 🙄
user13: what are you on about? Lando and Y/N have been friends for yearsss 🤡
user14: well, why didn’t anyone know about her till now? she just wants Lando for the fame, no doubt
landonorris posted a story
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lando’s gf posted a story.
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lando’s gf
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Liked by yourusername and 21,939 others
lando’s gf: ❤️❤️
landonorris
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Liked by oscarpiastri and 1,283,934 others
landonorris: Free time when I’m not driving a F1 car around the world
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user15: Lando— HAHAHA
user16: where’s Alice???
user17: y'all are obsessed with his gf, mind your own business ffs
user18: Bet Y/N’s asking Lando not to take Alice 🙄
user19: giiiirl, touch some grass! Alice has been back in her country
user20: Y/N’s always with Lando, so he’s footing the bill for everything
user21: Everything, mate—GP trips, holidays, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got him paying her rent too 🤮
user22: I wouldn’t want to be Alice, seeing Y/N everywhere around Lando 💀
landonorris just posted a story.
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yourusername posted a story
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yourusername
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Liked by max33verstappen and 39,983 others
yourusername: [No caption]
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user23: an unexpected crossover user24: Oh, so the gold-digger’s moved on to someone else now? user25: Hope you’re proud of yourself for ruining Lando and Alice’s relationship, biTCH user26: Hope you die
carlossainz55: should I feel proud because you went to a Real Madrid match or bad for "L" because you went out with someone from that team???
carlossainz55: nah, estoy orgulloso
user27: stay away from Lando, you slut
This post is unavailable
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lando’sex-girlfriend
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liked by 172,982
lando’sex-girlfriend: A little miracle is on the way, and we couldn’t be more excited. 👼
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user28: Nearly had a heart attack, thought Lando was going to be a dad 😭😭😭 user29: No way, she was the one who cheated 💀 user30: 💀
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landonorris
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Liked by charles_leclerc and 1,928,388 others
landonorris:  I lost the best thing in my life because of all of you.
Because of your words, your hate, your accusations. You turned her into the villain when all she ever was, was my best friend.
You all tore us apart, pushed me to let go of the one person who truly mattered, all because you couldn’t mind your own business.
And now, seven months later, I see the truth—she was never the problem. I was. I should’ve fought for her. But instead, I let you win.
I’ll never forgive myself for that. I lost her because of you.
—Lando
View all the commments
user31: lando, you did what you thought was best at the time. We’re all human, and nobody should have been attacking her like that
user32: we judged her without knowing the full story 🤧
user33: can’t believe we believed the lies
user 34: I feel so bad now
danielricciardo: Lando, I’ve got your back. It’s crazy how people act like they know your life when they don’t 🤛
user35: It’s hard to see things clearly when the pressure is on you. Glad you’re speaking out now, nobody deserves that kind of hate, especially someone as good
user36: It’s obvious she meant a lot to you but the media and fans never understood that
user37: We were too quick to judge her
maxverstappen1: People love to talk without knowing the full story. Stay strong, mate, always here if you need to talk 🤜🤜
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time skip
landonorris
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Liked by yourusername and 2,951,052 others
landonorris: I don’t think there’s anyone who deserves this more than her. From being the absolute boss she is in everything she touches to owning this year’s CEO of the Year award (seriously, she’s amazing), I couldn’t be prouder I of course I’m the best wag
View all the commments
user38: YOUR WIFE?!?!? 😱 i can’t even process it. Lando, what’s happening?!
user39: wait, I thought you were single?? How did we miss this??
user40: no… I THOUGHT THE WERE FRIENDSS????
user41: wait a damn minute—Lando’s married??!! And she’s holding CEO of the year??? I need answers 😭
user42: OH MY GODDD She’s literally living the dream!! And Lando, we all knew you were the best, but now you’ve just confirmed it
user43: HE’S MARRIED?!? And she’s CEO OF THE YEAR?!?! You guys are literally goals
user44: i’m happy for you but also I’m crying in my room so… mixed emotions 🫠🧡
user45: Y/N is literally TOO perfect and it’s offensive to the rest of us 😭😭😭
user46: No hate, but also… I’m fighting for my life over here while Y/N is living my dream 😭
user47: @/yourusername you wake up every day and think, ‘how can I flex on everyone today?’ Because wow 💀
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hawkins-batman · 1 day ago
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The Noah Schnapp Situation Going Into S5
With Stranger Things Season 5 coming out this year, we are unfortunately going to see a revival of the debacle around Noah, even though by then it will be an almost 2 year old subject. So, I thought I would get ahead of that with some of my thoughts based on what I've seen these last few weeks and more broadly over the last 6 or more months I've been on this scene.
Spoiler Alert: This is going to be a long one. It'll probably be my new pinned post.
Why Still Talk About It?
Frankly? Because it's still going on. Keep in mind, Liam Payne died in October 2024 (just three months ago), right around Noah's birthday, and THIS is how Twitter responded to that.
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And just in case anyone thinks I had to dig back a whole 3 months to find Noah-hate-content on Twitter, here was just random things I grabbed from the last week:
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Which brings me to the next point.
Why Do You Even Care?
"Noah doesn't know you." "He's not your pookie."
I know that. The funny thing is, from what little I know about Noah, I'm pretty sure if he DID know me beyond the ONE DM conversation we've had, he'd probably tell me to chill. Dude is very non-confrontational and nice. So, why do it?
Because I think the online movement in favor of Palestinian self-determination has been hijacked by teenagers and performative leftists who care more about looking good for their peers than practicing what they preach.
Because (as you can see above and in screenshots like the one below), people who claim to hold my liberal/progressive/left-leaning values have used this as an opportunity to be openly homophobic and antisemitic towards a then-19-year old who had JUST come out of the closet.
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Proponents of the hate campaign against Noah have said that they are just "holding him accountable" or "criticizing him" in the hopes he "learns something."
Look up. Point to me which image is accountability. Point to me the valid criticisms.
There are none. There is just flagrant homophobia. And then there are posts like this one, coming from the same crowd:
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This behavior is wrong on its face.
It is violent. It is bullying (which doesn't seem like strong enough of a word) and it's bigoted.
Wanna see more? Look up @noah_schnapp on Twitter/X. See what they've done to his account.
Inevitably, some of the people participating in this will see this blog post. If you've made it this far, this is for you:
This behavior discredits your activism. It makes you look performative and fake to say in one breath that you are a "Leftist" who cares about Palestinian lives as well as the lives of minority groups worldwide, and then to turn around and talk like this about a Jewish person and a gay KID. Because he WAS a kid when this started. Furthermore, it makes it clear to those of us who actually hold the beliefs we claim, that you are vapid enough to use Palestinian suffering for your own personal vendettas. That the APPEARANCE of goodness is more important than goodness itself. And that you will shuck solidarity with minority groups the MOMENT one of them steps out of the lines you have drawn around them.
Not to mention...
It's Based Mostly On Lies
As a reminder, this is what Noah Schnapp actually said shortly after October 7, 2023:
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Read that again.
"...we will hope and pray for safety, justice, liberation, and self-determination in Palestine." That was part of the very first thing he ever said about the issue.
And then this happened:
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This was the image he was crucified for.
Stickers that weren't even his. That he wasn't holding up or making. He was in a cafe, someone else came up to him with them, and he was videoed with that person.
That's it. That's all. All those tweets you saw above? The fake stories made up about him like this one?
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All of that was supposedly "accountability."
The harassment of his family. Murder threats. Rape threats. All for stickers that weren't even his.
There's even a paid Stranger Things author on this very site, styling herself as a Byler shipper, who has contributed to the lies that have further added to the hate campaign I've described.
As an aside, Noah wasn't the only one in that video. The influencers that actually posted the video and HAD THE STICKERS?
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Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
And just to be clear - I don't think they should get hate. I think non-Jewish online Leftists appropriated a term from Jewish culture, redefined it, and are weaponizing it to beat down Jews all over the internet—which is par for the course for this charcuterie board of performative activism.
Yet the point stands. Noah was specifically targeted; and the homophobia that IMMEDIATELY came from the Left suggests to me that it was his sexuality and cultural/religious identity that motivated the attacks.
Again, I'll say, this is wrong.
Noah Has Since Responded
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It hasn't stopped the bullying.
Didn't stop him from withdrawing from spaces he loved. From needing therapy from what we've learned from his now-deleted second TikTok.
And that really says something, does it? He cleared up his point. He tried to clarify and even apologize.
They didn't accept it. Not because it wasn't good enough. Not because it was "too late." Because this was the point. They wanted to keep doing it. They get sick joy from it.
Which is why...
I'm Not Shutting Up About This
This post doesn't even nearly cover the whole situation. The Byler fans who try to replace Noah's image in fan art and fan fiction. Who fan cast themselves as Will instead of Noah. The stalking and doxxing on Twitter. People reporting to GIANT hate accounts his location and when he's alone, PRAYING for him to be hurt.
I wish I could cover it all.
We have to stand up to this. On tumblr, on TikTok, on Threads, Twitter/X—everywhere we see it.
For our gay and Jewish siblings who see how Noah was attacked and feel less safe in their online spaces as a result, we have to speak up and say something.
And yeah. We have to say something for Noah, too.
The person who replied to me like this:
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Him?
He did it because he needed to see a show of love from his fans. Doesn't mean he's perfect. Doesn't mean he won't mess up or do something in the future.
And no. Standing up for Noah, or for Jewish people, or other gay folks does not make you a genocide supporter or apologist. It doesn't mean you want any innocent people harmed. Don't give them the power to talk down to you like that. It's bullshit. You know it, and I know it.
All standing up to this vile shit is is an acknowledgement that Noah is a living, breathing person, as some of these people tend to forget.
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And he didn't deserve this.
Any of it.
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jobean12-blog · 2 days ago
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Birds of a Feather
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (friends to lovers)
Word Count: 2.5K
Summary: You have to attend a close relative's wedding and there's no one better to bring than your best friend, Bucky.
Author's Note: Seeing so much of happy Seb lately-and looking so good-made me want to write something sexy and fluffy so here we are. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thanks Daisy!🥰
Warnings: soft and sweet, tense and flirty, Bucky is the best in every way!
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‘Come on up. Room 322.’
His thumbs hang limply over the phone screen, his brain going blank.
When he sent the text ten seconds earlier to let you know he’s arrived he figured you would meet him down in the lobby or at the hall.
Meeting you in the hotel room is a problem he anticipated when he gave himself a pep talk before leaving.
“She’s your best friend. Don’t do anything stupid…like go to the hotel room.”
His fingers finally start to move over the letters. ‘I can meet you down here…’
But maybe you need help with something?
He deletes the text, now typing, ‘is there anyone with you?,’ but that just sounds weird and possessive.
‘I can see you typing,’ you text. ‘Just come up. I need help.’
With a laugh, he deletes everything again and types simply, ‘be right there doll.’
His long legs carry him quickly to the elevator and when he presses the button for the third floor he takes a deep breath, his pulse climbing it’s way up his throat.
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The door to your room is propped open with the dead bolt, but he knocks anyway.
“Come in Buck!”
Pushing it open just enough to peek his head in, he calls out, “I could be anyone, and you just invite me in without checking!”
“You just texted me you were coming up,” you sing from the bathroom, quickly continuing before he can say more, “and most of the people on his floor are friends or relatives here for the wedding.”
“Well, I’m glad to know you take your safety as seriously as I do,” he shouts back.
Your voice gets louder as you walk into the bedroom. “With you around I never have to worr…”
You stop for a breath when you see him, but your next words are lost to the blank void of his brain as he takes in your dress and how you look in it. To put it simply- stunning.
“Bucky?”
He startles, having no idea how long he’d been silent.
“Yeah doll…that’s…I’m here.”
When he finally drags his eyes to your face, you’re fighting a smile. “I asked if you could help me?”
“Oh, right. Sure. With what exactly?”
He cringes but steps closer.
“My dress?”
You turn around to show him the fabric at the back that hangs open, a tiny zipper dangling down at your lower back.
Trying to suppress a groan, but not being entirely successful he swallows hard. “That zipper looks very tiny.”
“It is,” you agree. “I realize I should have asked someone with smaller hands to help me out, but everyone is running around with their own nonsense so here we are.”
He approaches with a casual, “sure, of course doll.”
But then he does something without fully realizing it until the shiver runs along your back: he drags a knuckle down the curve of your spine.
You turn and look at him over your shoulder.
He just blinks and looks down to grab the zipper, mumbling about how small it is.
It’s quiet as he carefully pulls the zipper up and when he reaches the top he lets it fall and gently runs a finger along the top of the dress as he moves around to look at you.
“All set,” he whispers.
You smile and clear your throat before giving him an appreciative once over.
“You look hot.”
“Thanks doll. You…” and he struggles when his voice comes out a bit strangled, “you look breathtaking.”
You reach up and touch his bow tie, pulling at the neatly tied ends as you tell him, “I was hoping you’d arrive a flustered mess over how to tie this so I could do it for you.”
With a grin, he reaches up and tugs the end, untying it in a smooth pull.
“Figure you should do something in return after I battled that zipper,” he teases.
Still smiling, you take a hold of the tie, tugging it to align the ends evenly around his neck. “I didn’t get the impression it was such a hardship.”
His answering smirk is so telling you have to stifle a laugh.
“Are you feeling ready for this? I know these big events aren’t your favorite.”
“I’ll manage just fine doll, thanks. Besides, I’ve got the most beautiful date in the whole place.”
With your focus still on his bow tie he takes the opportunity to openly stare. When you smile at his sweet words he’s mesmerized by the way your soft lips part and his eyes stay glued to your mouth.
You look up to meet his gaze and he quickly lifts his eyes, a light pink sweeping across his cheeks.
You blink away and he looks down at your hands, noting the very little progress you’ve made.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
“Well…yes. I’m sure I can…”
“You’ve never done this before, have you?”
“You might be right!,” you quip, “but I’m no quitter.”
He’d be happy to stand there all night.
You finally step back, surveying your work, and frown. “I’m going to be honest, not sure I made it look as good as you did.”
He looks down and undoes the mess and you glower as he handily fixies it.
“Wow, no need to gloat you butthead.”
He lets out a full-bodied laugh, eyes crinkled, and nose scrunched, and you enjoy the sight before he explains, “I’ve done it a million times. I’m always the one in the tux when we go undercover.”
“That’s because you’re the one that looks the best.”
“Thanks doll,” he answers quietly.
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“There are so many people here,” you whisper as you lead him through the crowd in the hall.
He let’s out a low whistle, nodding in agreement and aking in the décor.
You greet people as you walk, introducing Bucky to those that don’t already know him. Their eyes follow you, curiosity piqued in their expression as they wonder who he is to you.
You wonder the same. Your favorite person in the world. Your best friend…and so much more?
You take his elbow and guide him forward toward the outside set up where the ceremony will take place. On the way you find your grandmother and introduce him.
Since he can’t take his eyes off you he notices the subtle shift in your demeanor, the softening of your face and the adoration in your eyes.
He expects a gentle handshake but instead gets pulled in for a hug.
“Oh darling, isn’t he a sight,” you grandma says, patting Bucky’s cheek. “And you,” she says, turning her eyes your way. “Gorgeous.”
“Thanks grandma,” you beam.
A woman whizzes by, catching your eye and pointing to her watch.
“Looks like it’s time,” you announce.
Bucky holds out one arm for your grandma and the other for you.
“And a gentleman too,” your grandma gushes as she loops her arm through his. “Definitely a keeper.”
“You can keep grandma company,” you say as you approach the chairs.
“Of course, doll,” he says and leans in to kiss your cheek before helping your grandma into her seat.
“I’ll see you after the ceremony.” You gather your dress and turn to head back inside to meet the wedding party. “Miss me,” you call over your shoulder with a playful smile.
He stares as you walk away, quietly admitting, “I already do.”
Slight nerves take over when you hear the music start but the moment you walk out into the crowd your eyes zero in on Bucky. And what do you know? He’s looking right back at you…and he doesn’t take his eyes off you the whole ceremony.
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After the ceremony it takes forever to work your way through the crowd to him, and in between catching up with friends and family or directing someone somewhere, you catch glimpses of him smiling and laughing with your grandma and happily keeping her company.
When you finally do reach him, your grandma has been safely escorted to her seat and now a woman hangs off his arm- Jessica. You know her, an old family friend, and you like her well enough, but you step up behind them right as she asks Bucky if she can steal him for the first dance, and your stomach drops.
You jerk to a stop. He hasn’t seen you. He should accept. You’ll hate it, but you’re not in any position to protest.
But then Bucky says only a gentle, “sorry, no can do. Tonight, I’ve only got one dance partner.”
Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest, and you step closer, swallowing down the emotion.
“Hey you two!”
Bucky turns, extracting his arm from Jessica and setting a warm palm at your lower back.
“And here she is. My favorite dancing partner.”
Jessica leans around from his other side and says hello.
“Thanks for coming,” you tell her.
“Oh my god, of course. I wouldn’t miss it. And I was just meeting your friend, James, here.”
She emphasizes the word friend and at her usage of his real name you have to hold back a giggle.
“Isn’t he wonderful,” you hum, sliding your hand up his bicep. “He’s been keeping my grandmother company this whole time.”
She swoons and smiles at Bucky before turning back to you.
“He is. I just wasn’t expecting you to have a date. You’re usually always flying solo at these family events.”
You feel the smile slipping from your face and an uncomfortable laugh escapes.
The simple answer never comes to you, and you feel caught like a deer in the headlights.
“Actually, that’s only because I was away for work,” Bucky steps in smoothly. “I hate to miss any chance to be her date, but my schedule can be pretty demanding sometimes.”
“Oh, you’re so sweet,” Jessica says. “Work is important of course.”
“Yeah,” he answers, “but not as important as her. So, from now I won’t be missing another event.”
Jessica’s face does a thing. It’s a barely restrained, ‘oh okay, I see.’
Bucky’s smile remains but it doesn’t look entirely natural anymore but when he looks at you, every emotion on his face is genuine.
“Ready to find our seats doll face,” he asks you.
“Sure,” you reply.
“Well, it was nice to meet you Jennifer. Enjoy the party.”
With a firm hand, he leads you away. You allow yourself to be guided up the grassy path and indoors to where a band plays. Bucky grabs you two flutes of champagne off a passing tray and hands you one.
“That was swoony,” you tell him then take a sip.
“All I did was grab it from a tray doll. Time to raise your bar a bit.”
Laughing, you smack his beefy shoulder with your free hand. “Not that! The way you gently let Jennifer have it back there.”
He takes a sip, eyes on you. “She deserved worse, but I didn’t want to start trouble.”
With your brow raised you match his mischievous grin then you take his glass and set it down on one of the small tables, leading him to the dance floor.
He looks confused at first but when your hands slide up his chest and around his neck he circles his arms around your waist.
He relaxes against you, hands warm and strong on your lower back and you rest your cheek to his shoulder.
“You’re always so comfy.”
“Thank you.”
“And you always look out for me.”
He presses a kiss to your temple.
“Of course, doll.”
“You’re my favorite person in the Universe.”
He doesn’t respond at first, not for five or ten or thirty seconds. You keep waiting for the feeling of rejection in his silence but instead it feels like an agreement and finally his words confirm it.
“Mine too, doll.”
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Your quiet slow dance is the last moment alone you have for the next few hours because what follows is a whirlwind of a reception.
And the whole time he can’t take his eyes off you.
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“Think I’m ready to get out of here,” you say as you slump against his side.
He carefully holds you up as he stands and reaches to take your hand.
“Come on doll face. I’ll take you home.”
When you reach your apartment door your feet are aching, and your legs are tired. You retrieve your key from the hidden pocket in your small purse and slide it into the doorknob.
“I’m going to need you to unzip me,” you say, gesturing casually to your dress.
His silence makes you slowly turn around to face him and when you meet his eyes they’re heavy with heat and desire.
“Bucky?”
“Turn back around,” he says gruffly.
You do as your told and feel his exhaled puff of air against your bare shoulder before he takes your wrists in this hands and places your palms flat against the door. His metal fingers slide down one arm then trace the curve of your shoulder, while his other toys with the small zipper.
He starts to pull it down, so slowly, you feel every brush of his skin against yours and it sends a tremble across your body. For every new inch of your skin that he exposes his breath quickens. You can feel the heat of him so close and your fingers press into the hard wood of the door.
Once the fabric hangs loosely at the sides he stops and slips his hands inside to your waist and turns you back to face him.
“You’re so soft,” he murmurs. “I…”
You drag your fingers along his temple and down his jaw. Your finger falls to his bottom lip, tracing it’s outline.
You can see it in his eyes, the understanding that everything between you is easy and you don’t have to try. It’s too good.
Your gaze drops to his lips again and your mouth goes soft. “Kiss me Bucky.”
The words are just barely out of your mouth and he’s already leaning in, lips on yours, warm and urgent, his hands rising to cup your face. Your instincts send tight, possessive fists to the lapels of his jacket and you melt completely into the domination and tenderness in his touch.
With a quiet groan he tilts his head, deepening the contact into a decadent slide, sending a hungry hand down your body once again and grabbing your ass to press all your softness against the hard planes of his body.
He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, drags slowly away, and you chase the contact, but he stops you, pressing his thumb over your lips.
He stares for what feels like forever, then kisses you again, lingering before he murmurs, “you’re so beautiful,” into the sensitive skin below your ear, and then repeats it quietly into your neck.
“Are you going to stay the night?” you ask breathless.
“If you’ll have m…”
“Yes. Yes Bucky.”
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totalswag · 18 hours ago
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heyyy can i request angst with drew, maybe they had a fight (totally a misunderstanding bc yk how we get when we’re on our period 😔) and he was just really mean to her, she feels real bad abt and later he apologizes plss 🙏
love your writing!!!
apologies in the after math ⎯ DREW STARKEY
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summary its the time of month and you get overstimulated easily. drew and you have a little argument that leads you two for not talking for a bit till he comes into your shared room.
warning(s) being on your period, crying, arguing, cussing.
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You started your period yesterday and have not been in the best. Your mood swings vary every single time during your period⎯don’t know what mood you’ll be. You've been lying on the heating pad since four in the morning⎯You're going through it now. 
The cloudy weather makes you feel peaceful, and you're snuggled up on the couch, watching movies to distract yourself from the cramps. This is your typical routine on your period because you don’t have a lot of energy to do anything in the very beginning.
Drew left the gym around seven in the morning and was heading home. He went with Chase, one of his Outer Banks castmates. He texted you that he was only around the corner from the house.
Drew came to the house, put his stuff down, stepped into the living room, kissed you on the cheek, and asked if you wanted to join him in the shower to ease your cramps.
"Come with me, baby; it will feel good," Drew encourages, kneeling in front of you and leaning forward, reaching, softly caressing your lower back.
Drew does everything he can to ensure your well-being during your period. He despised seeing you in pain and discomfort. He secretly brought you coffee, donuts, and your favorite flowers the last time you were on your period. He also respects your boundaries.
"I don't see why not," you shrugged, removing the blanket from your body and folding it before following Drew down the hall to your shared bathroom. 
A few hours go by, you are in one of your negative mood swings. You woke up from an hour nap. Drew and you had a fight⎯the fight began over something pointless. Of course it did. Drew had left his shoes in the middle of the hallway yet again, and as you stumbled over them, something inside you cracked. 
Drew casually dismissed your aggravation with a lazy, "Relax, it's just shoes," lightly chuckling, and you let out a rush of pent-up frustration.
"You're always doing this, Drew! You have no regard for anyone else's space or time. It's like, "Geez, are you even trying?"
His jaw tensed as he put down the drink he was holding. "Are you serious right now?" His tone was cut as a warning. "You're overreacting."
"Don't you dare tell me I'm overreacting," you said, your face flushing. "Maybe if you actually paid attention for once—"
"Fine!" he said abruptly, cutting you off. His voice rose, intense. "Do you want me to pay attention? Fine. But maybe you should quit looking for reasons to start a fight. Not everything is a major issue, you know."
The words felt like a slap. Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them, and you fought to let them fall. You stood paralyzed, unable to speak due to the lump in your throat. Drew inhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair and muttering something under his breath.
As time passed you didn’t say a word to Drew—both of you were quiet. You stayed in your shared bedroom scrolling through tiktok. Drew was somewhere in the house doing something.
There was a soft knock at the door, "Hey," Drew said, hesitantly and quietly.
You didn’t answer. Part of you wanted to stay stubborn, but the crack in his tone made your resolve falter. 
The door creaked open, and you could hear his cautious feet. "I'm sorry," he added, bringing his voice closer. "I should not have spoken to you like that. "I didn't mean it."
You peered out from beneath the cover, seeing his sorrowful gaze. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and his hair was ruffled, as if he had raked his fingers through it in irritation.
"I was out of line," he added, crouching near the bed. "I just lashed out." That is on me."
Drew continues to explain he was even more out of line knowing you are on your period and you have these little moments where you aren’t in the best of moods. He was validating your feelings, putting the blame on himself. However, you shouldn’t react that way to begin with.
The honesty in his tone made your throat clench.
"I'm sorry, too," you said quietly. "I didn't intend to provoke a fight. "I just..." I've been feeling lousy all day and took it out on you. "I should not have done that."
Drew shook his head softly. "No, do not do it. You are free to express how you feel. "I just want to be better for you."
He grabbed your hand and lovingly squeezed it. "Will you come out with me? "I have something to show you."
Curiosity got the best of you. The wonders of what he has for you. Was he doing something to make up for the altercation? So many things running through your mind. 
When you entered the dining room, your breath hitched. The table was set with your favorite dinner, and candles flickered softly in the dark lighting. An arrangement of your favorite flowers was placed in the center, their beautiful fragrance filling the air.
"I know it doesn't erase what I said," Drew replied softly, caressing the back of his neck. But I wanted to make it up to you. You mean everything to me, and I detest the thought of you thinking I don't care,” wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek a few times.
Your eyes welled up again, but this time with glad tears. You hugged him firmly and buried your face in his chest.
"Thank you," you replied softly. "This means everything to me."
He kisses the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you. "You mean everything to me," he said quietly back.
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psychoticbipolarbear · 3 days ago
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Unprofessional innuendos
pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader
summary: You keep teasing Hotch jokingly, a habit that stems from your feelings for him, but when you want to make a move he doesn't approve of, he thinks it's time to tell you he secretly likes it.
tags: daddy kink implied, age gap, pre-season 1, fem!bau!reader, Haley isn't with Hotch
word count: 0.9k
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“Boys, we all know that Daddy loves me best,” you say with a laugh as you lean back in the chair with a smug smile on your face. 
Derek laughs with you as he shakes his head, knowing full well you are right, while Spencer looks like you just shot his dog. “What about me?” he asks hesitantly, pointing at himself. 
“You’re Gideon’s favorite, I won’t give you Hotch too.” 
“And I’m the oldest child both parents forget about,” Derek notes as he stands up and stretches his arms above his head. You throw a pen at him, but he catches it with ease and walks over to put it on your desk. “Come on, I’m paying for the drinks tonight. You’re coming too, Reid,” he adds, giving a pointed look to the youngest member of your team. 
You don’t move, instead you turn to the hallway where Hotch and Gideon’s offices are, wondering if you should at least offer them the chance to join you. Gideon barely came with you, but Hotch agreed every so often, and when you could convince him to drink more than two glasses, things always got interesting. He could be fun when he let his walls down, when he joined the playful banters, or when he played along with you when you were back on your usual bullshit after one too many drinks. 
So, despite the others’ protests, you jump up and run into Hotch’s office to convince him to join you. He’s playing hard to get, but you know you could easily get under his skin with a few sweet words, and sure enough, he rolls his eyes and closes the folder he was working with. “Fine,” he says, then stands up to follow you. 
Fast forward to one in the morning, when he’s standing at your door, holding you up while you try to open your front door. Derek offered to take you home, but he wasn’t that sober either, so Hotch took it upon himself to get you home in one piece. Despite being aware of your intoxicated state, he gives you a lecture in the car about how you should try to behave, toning down the innuendos that are usually flowing out of you more often than not. And it only happened around him, which made him wonder if there are real feelings behind them. 
One day is enough to put the pieces together, and when the team goes to their respective rooms after a long day of traveling and getting up to speed with a new case, you can’t help but linger around your boss’ room, debating whether or not you should talk to him. You know he was right that night, that you were taking things too far, that you were overstepping boundaries that existed for a reason. But you didn’t know what to do, your crush on him made it impossible to be around him and act normal. 
And tonight you had a moment of enlightenment and figured out what route you can take to solve this. So, you knock, impatiently waiting for him to open the door for you. When it creaks open, you see that he’s already dressed for bed, wearing a white shirt and black track pants, and his hair is a mess already. “Did something happen?” he asks.
“I know it’s late, I’m sorry. There’s something I want to tell you, but I don’t want to wait until the morning,” you admit, glancing past him into the room as a sign that maybe you shouldn’t discuss it there. He gets the message and steps aside to let you in. “I’m leaving the team,” you announce when he leans against the wall. 
Hotch freezes, but his brown eyes tell you that his brain is in overdrive. “What?” You nod, not feeling like responding with words. “No.”
“That’s not up to you.”
“It should be. Is it because of what we talked about in the car?” he asks as he steps closer, slowly closing the distance between you. You nod again. “Okay, listen to me very, very carefully. I said what I said because I don’t want a scandal. I swear to God, one day the way our team members communicate will trigger a sexual harassment training. Garcia and Morgan? You and me? That’s completely unprofessional, no matter how natural it feels to us,” he says. 
You think about what he said, then you note, “But you never join in when I say those things. It’s not mutual.”
To your surprise, he lets out a laugh, then reaches out to cup your face. “Don’t think I don’t want to,” he admits, leaning so close you can feel his hot breath on your skin. “I love the way you’re teasing me, surprisingly, I even find your stupid daddy and sir kinks endearing, but I need to draw the line at work. I’m your boss, there are rules against relationships like that.” He thinks about this, then lets his hands slide down from your cheek, moving along your neck, down over your collarbone, exploring your sides as he leans in to kiss you. “Stay here tonight. Let me show you how badly I want you,” he breaths against your lips.
Your brain doesn’t work properly anymore, you can’t think of a reason why you should say no to him. So, you stay, giving in to the sexual tension that’s been building up ever since you joined the team. From that night on, you don’t even think about leaving the team again. You just tone down the comments to play by his rules.
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the-witty-pen-name · 2 days ago
Text
The Love Triangle From Hell (3)
Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader
Synopsis: Following PART TWO, Steve feels even more distant from his friends- especially you; Eddie reflects on memories he has of you two; Nancy and Jonathan work together for the paper; Robin does her best to navigate what being friends with you and Steve looks like; you seek comfort in one of the only ways you know how- calling Eddie
Series Masterlist
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; allusions to violence; miscommunication; jealousy; kissing; implications of smut; horniness
A/N: You guys are literally the absolute best. I am having the best time writing this- I'm so inspired by all of you. The love you have shown this fic so far has me overwhelmed. Thank you for your kind words, you have helped me work through some serious writer's block. Your comments and reblogs are keeping me going fr
This is unedited; please let me know what you think and if I missed anything I should include as a warning.
This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI
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His hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pulling you in close for another searing kiss. He can’t catch his breath, but he’s just so desperate to stay close to you like this. Your lips are so soft against his and your mouth is so inviting as you yank him closer. You whimper against his lips and it makes him shiver. He feels weak in the knees as you feel so pliable to his touch. You melt into his embrace and sigh happily as his lips trail down your neck. 
“Want you,” you moan softly, tugging his hair. He groans at the sensation. “Need you so bad.” 
“‘M gonna take care of you,” he promises, bringing his lips back to yours. 
“Love you,” you moan.
Before he finds out  if he says it back, his alarm goes off and he’s brought back to his reality. He groans disappointedly, covering his ears with his pillow- desperate for a couple more minutes with dream you. There’s a bang at his door. 
“Steve! Turn that shit off!” Eddie calls from the other side of the door. He’s yelling but his tone is playful. Steve hits his alarm off and drudges out of bed finally. Eddie has coffee made and Steve forgets anything is wrong at the moment. 
“Did she say anything last night?” Steve asks groggily as he pours himself a cup. 
“Um, not really,” Eddie replies, taking a moment to think about it. “I mean, yes but not about anything that we don’t know already. She’s conflicted, she doesn’t know what to think or feel. She just wants time.” 
“Okay,” Steve replies, leaning up against the counter. He takes a sip of his coffee. He needs to get to work. He can talk about this with Robin when he gets there. 
When you called Eddie, you didn’t expect Steve to answer. You thought maybe he’d say something- you wanted him too. But he didn’t. You couldn’t read him anymore.
Eddie was thrilled to hear your voice. He’d missed you, and he’d missed talking to you. He wanted that piece back as soon as he could get it. He reveled in the way his name sounded coming from you. 
“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to upset Steve- I heard the way he dropped the phone down…” 
“It’s okay sweetheart,” he says compassionately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
He’s met with a sad feeling of silence. 
“I’m happy you called,” he says gently. He hopes the sentiment makes you feel better. 
“I’ve missed you,” you admit, and Eddie feels like his heart might swell out of his chest. 
“It’s hard when the two people who you talk about everything with are the people you want to talk about,” you joke, and he laughs with you. 
“You can talk shit about me,” he teases and he hears you groan. He bites his lip, holding back a smile. 
“How are you doing?” You ask, changing the subject. 
“Much better now,” he flirts. 
“How are you doing, really?” You ask again, your voice sounding more fragile. 
“I meant, honestly- not great. But not worse than anyone else is doing right now.” 
“Yeah…” 
“I miss you a lot too,” he admits. He runs a hand through his hair, and it reminds him of how amazing it felt the last time you played with his hair. He’s craving that touch so badly. 
When you both were in high school, Eddie went out of his way to make sure you always had a seat at the table. He’d notice as you stood with your cafeteria tray, waiting for Steve to realize there was no open seat for you at his table. He’d wave obnoxiously to catch your eye and he’d smile at the way you’d get shy from the attention. He’d point at the empty seat next to him, and he’d grin as your eyes light up in realization you had a spot. You’d shuffle through the crowd and take your seat next to him. You’d take a seat and ruffle his hair in your hands. 
Eddie was always a creature of habit. As much as he exudes chaos, he actually thrives in having a routine. Don’t get him wrong- it’s never been a good routine… but it’s routine nonetheless. In high school it was a lot of the same. Tuesdays, Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout. He would get home way too late and never get in bed until close to 3am. Wednesday mornings, he’d sleep through his alarm and stroll into first period consistently 10ish minutes late. Thursdays he prepped for Hellfire, and then of course, the piece the resistance was Friday. Hellfire. An epic campaign that would run several hours and ensure the most recent shit week had been worth it to make it to that moment. 
He remembers that he was paralyzed when the group proposed to postpone Hellfire one time his first senior year. It snaps him out of his thoughts, as he was so wrapped up in you- and how close you were sitting. Eddie knew that hypothetically, it shouldn’t matter if the date changes. However, he couldn’t wrap his head around change. He hated it- still does. A disruption from his status quo throws off his entire week and it will take him too long to mentally recover. He knew that he came off as a hard ass, but he prefers it than trying to explain his mind to his friends. He had felt  his jaw tighten as he tried to rationalize with himself that it can be okay to switch it up. He unclenched his fists once he realized that he was making his knuckles white unintentionally. 
“Uh yeah, no problem. Saturday’s fine,” he was able to manage through gritted teeth. He relaxed when he could look past himself and see his friends smile, thanking him and happily chatting about the campaign. He smiled when he observed that his decision made everyone happy. That for him outweighed the internal struggle. 
He didn’t really listen to the reason everyone wanted to reschedule, but he picked up on after the fact that everyone is talking about the Snow Ball. He couldn’t help but recoil back into himself as his friends talked about their plans to go- who they’re asking, what suit they’re getting, what songs would play, and whatever. He couldn’t have cared less. Unless… 
His eyes wandered to sneak a glance at you. He wondered if you had plans- maybe you're hoping someone asks you. Maybe, he’s lucky and you were hoping that someone would be him. He wondered if you had a date. Maybe you already had been asked. It’s not like you had been aware of the way Eddie’s felt about you- unrequited feelings that tugged on his focus constantly since he’s known you. You caught his eye and offered him a shy smile and he could crumble. 
Eddie immediately averted his gaze, and focused his attention back on his friends. He ignored the way his face suddenly became so warm and he ignored the butterflies that were swarming around in his stomach. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on these feelings- he knew that there’s no way you feel the same. Who could possibly like him? 
He felt a pressure when the freshman looked at him, one of them having asked Eddie about his own plans. Eddie sees the way the kids look up to him, they idolize him. He knows they think he’s cool. He can’t let that go just yet, he loved it too much. He needed it. He wanted to have them hang on to this version of him for as long as they’d believe in it. 
So, despite his usual distaste in school sanctioned functions, he did not want to allow the kids to think he couldn’t score a date. He could only blame society so much before they realized it’s actually his own fear of putting himself out there that cramped his dating life more than anything else. He then resolves that he needs a date to this dance. He tells himself that it’s for the freshman, to keep up the cool facade or whatever. But in actuality, he just wanted to ask you because he wants to ask you out. It’s his perfect window of opportunity. 
“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it, honestly,” you said, when one of the freshmen asked you if you had plans. “I’d been so busy with the play, I haven’t had a chance.” Eddie watched as you glanced over to Steve’s table. “Steve and I usually would go to this kinda thing,” you said quickly, and Eddie could see your apprehension despite your best attempt to hide it. “We’ll probably go as friends again.” 
He said nothing. 
A few days later, you called Eddie and he could immediately tell you’re upset. You’re doing your best to hold it together but he can tell you’re almost at your breaking point. 
“Hey,” you say, your voice straining as you try not to cry. “I know this is totally not your thing, but I’m kind of in a bind.” 
“What can I do?” He asked, sitting up straight on his bed. He was getting ready to locate his shoes or his keys- thinking you’re in trouble somewhere. He’ddrop anything to come get you. 
“I know you’d probably rather do literally anything else, but um, I have two tickets to the Snow Ball and I already bought a dress…” 
“I thought you’d be going with Steve?” He asked. You sniffled. 
“Um, yeah I kind of just assumed he’d take me. I didn’t realize that he asked out Nancy Wheeler,” you choked back tears. “I mean it’s not like that,” you lied, maybe not to Eddie but more to yourself, “we’re just friends. But I still thought He and I would be going together like as friends again- you know? But, uh, yeah- he is taking like a real date.” 
“I know you’d hate it, and I will make it up to you. But, I already bought the tickets and I can’t get my money back. It’s like not a date or anything, just like a friend thing…” 
“I’d be happy to take you,” he replied, sincerely. He can tell you were expecting him to fight you on it. When would you catch on that he’s willing to do anything for you? 
“Eddie, thank you so much,” you sniffled, still trying your best to keep it cool. “I owe you one,” your voice cracks and you hang up quickly before he gets a chance to say anything. 
Eddie didn’t really understand back then why you were even friends with Steve to begin with. Eddie thought Steve, frankly, was a total douchebag. However, once he actually got to know Steve- it was a different story. He couldn’t resent Steve. He loved him like a brother now. And once Eddie got to know the Steve you’ve always known, your feelings for him made sense. But at the same time, Eddie held his tongue for all the things Steve did or didn’t do for so long. Steve was good guy at his core, Eddie understood. But his actions didn’t reflect that in Eddie’s eyes. But it wasn’t his place to tell you that. It didn’t seem right. You’d known Steve so much longer than him. 
Nancy and Jonathan invited you and Robin to go with them to watch Lucas’ basketball game. You were excited to get out of your little apartment and support Lucas. Jonathan was photographing it for The Hawkins Post. Jonathan paced up and down the court side to get photos, and you sat up in the bleachers with Nancy and Robin. You were never one to go to school things really, but it was Lucas’s senior year and it was a big game- of course you were going to be there. 
“It feels weird, Steve not being here,” Nancy whispers to you and you nod in agreement. 
“Yeah, everything just feels weird right now,” you agree. “You and Jonathan are okay?” 
“We’re good. We’re doing good, um, still working through stuff but we’re going to just work through it.” 
“That’s good.” 
“Robin?” Nancy asks, and Robin turns her head to pay attention. “How’s things with Vicky?” 
Robin’s face turns tomato red. “Fine,” she mumbles, happily. “I’m gonna hang out with her tomorrow.” You elbow her teasingly, making her blush redden. 
“How’s it feeling? Being the best at all of this out of us?” You tease. 
“I don’t know,” she’s so embarrassed, it’s so sweet. “We both just like each other- it’s not that complicated. She’s so great.” 
The three of you turn your attention back to the game at the sound of the whistle. You clapped and cheered the loudest whenever Lucas had the ball. He tried to plead with the lot of you to tone it down, casting weary looks in your direction. You couldn’t help yourselves. You felt so proud of him. 
You decide to take a walk to the concession stands and get some snacks for everyone. You order four sodas and two large popcorns- one for Jonathan and Nancy and one for you and Robin. You fish the cash out of the front pocket of your jeans, and hand it to the kid working the window. You thank him, and balance it all in your hands to navigate carefully back to the stands. 
You see a familiar face coming down the hallway, sprinting. For a moment, you can’t help the smile that forms across the expanse of your face until you remember what’s been going on. Your face falls, and you feel so stupid for being excited to see him when it hits you again all at once. 
You don’t think Steve knew you’d all be here, because he looks just as surprised to see you. He stops and his sneakers squeak across the polished gym floor. He looks at you with an expression of pure panic. He totally didn’t think you’d be here. And you’re surprised he came alone- but of course he did, he’s Steve. Of course, he’s going to show up to every game for Lucas. You shouldn’t expect any less. It still takes you back. 
“Can I help with those?” he asked, gesturing for you to pass some stuff to him. You nod, and tilt so he can take some of the things from your grasp. 
“Where are you sitting?” He asks, and you nod your head towards Robin and Nancy. His face deflates. “Ah, okay.” He walks over with you, and he passes the items in his hand off to Robin. He moves aside so you can walk back into your spot. 
“Thanks, Steve,” you offer him a soft smile, appreciating the effort despite the circumstances.
“Yeah of course,” he mutters, backing away, lingering for a moment because the seat that’s usually there for him between you and Robin isn’t there. He quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and just heads over to the next row of bleachers, finding a seat next to a couple of his old basketball teammates that are here for their little brothers. 
Steve can’t even focus on the game,  he keeps trying to steal glances of you from his peripheral vision. He wants to know what Robin said that made you laugh like that, and he wished he could have heard your laugh- but you’re too far away from him. He watches as your jaw drops at something Nancy tells you, and he watches how you cheer so happily for Lucas. He wants to know if this is bothering you the way it’s bothering him. You look like you’re keeping it together and he wants to know if that could truly be the case. 
Even when you’re carrying so much hurt, you give off such a radiance that Steve and he’s sure everyone else is just drawn into. Your pretty smile and your bright eyes are all he can think about- he only knows when to cheer when he feels the people around him move. He smiles when you stand up and pose, pointing to Lucas- then Lucas matches it, giving it back to you. He watches as you both share that moment of just pure joy, and his heart aches. He doesn’t know if he could ever make you that happy. 
When the game was over, you looked to see if you could find Steve but there was no sign of him. You all invited Lucas to go out for celebratory pizza for his big win, but he wanted to go with his teammates. The plan fizzled pretty much after that. Robin wanted to get home so she could call Vicky and Jonathan and Nancy wanted to head home so Jonathan could start developing his photos. When you and Robin are walking out, you see a familiar van. 
“I’ll bum a ride from Nancy,” Robin assures you, pushing you in Eddie’s direction. She waves to Eddie from a distance and then jogs to catch up with Nancy and Jonathan. 
“What are you doing here?” you ask with a smile. He pushes himself off of the hood of his van and walks over to you, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. 
“I thought you might be here,” he quips. “Plus, I had to poke my head in- Sinclair is some big shot apparently?” he jokes, “I had to check out for a few minutes.”
“He’s really great,” you agree. 
“Was Steve here?” Eddie asks. 
“Yeah I saw him. He didn’t really stay either- I mean he stayed for the game, but we didn’t talk really.” You shrug. 
“Well,” he says, trying to optimistically change the subject, “Do you wanna get out of here? I could give you a ride home or we could get food or something- or even just drive around and not talk. I’m not picky.” 
He looks so beautiful like this, you observe. The sky is pitch black but the lights in the parking lot illuminate him perfectly with a soft glow. His hair is wonderfully messy and his smile is making it hard for you to breathe. Has he always looked like this? You wonder, astonished as it hits you all at once. He’s gorgeous. Your eyes linger, taking in every little detail you’ve overlooked before. He waves his hand in front of your face to snap you out of your trance. 
“Stop looking at me like that,” he tisks. 
“Looking at you like what?”
“Like you’re trying to jump my bones,” he chuckles. Your face warms, and suddenly you realize how long you must have been staring. 
“Ha, right,” you joke sarcastically, or at least, trying to joke sarcastically. You walk past him and get into the passenger side of the van and try your best to compose yourself in the few seconds it takes for him to follow suit. 
“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, turning over the ignition, “where to?”
“Can we just drive around like we used to?” you ask- the circumstances of tonight making you feel so nostalgic. 
“Of course we can,” he hums, passing you the case of his cassettes- a familiar and welcomed sight for your tired eyes. 
You watch Eddie as he drives, and observe the way the muscles in his arms flex ever so subtly as he turns the wheel. You watch his ringed fingers tap across the top of the steering wheel and you can’t help it the way your mind wanders. You’re so wrapped up in the way his hair sways so effortlessly and the movement of his jaw as he sings, you don’t even notice that Steve was leaving the gym just in time to see you both drive away. 
After a little while of aimless driving, and hitting up the drive thru, Eddie ends up parking at Lover’s Lake when neither of you are ready to go home just yet. 
“Eddie?” You ask absentmindedly, finishing off the milkshake he got you. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot,” he replies, also finishing his, but with an obnoxiously loud suck of his straw- determined to get every last sip. 
“Why do you like me?” you ask, cringing almost immediately. You think you sound like a middle schooler or something- you’re so embarrassed. His eyes widen for a brief second, contemplating his answer. He tosses the empty cup into the back. 
“First off,” he criticizes teasingly, “I did not say I liked you- I’m in love with you. Get your facts straight, ma’am.” 
“My apologies,” you giggle, holding your hands up in defeat.
“I mean- I love everything about you; always have,” he starts. “You’re sweet and kind. I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re incredible, and sometimes I can’t figure out why you wanted to ever be friends with me in the first place.”
“Eddie?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Would you kiss me?” 
Eddie’s a goner when you’re looking at him with those doe eyes. More than anything he wants to lunge across and close the space between you. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. It takes every fiber of his being to hold himself back..
“I don’t know if I can kiss you without knowing if I could ever kiss you again,” He whispers, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in towards you. His hand lifts to hold your cheek and suddenly he’s so close. Closer than the two of you have ever been. His lips are tantalizingly close to yours when his forehead touches yours. A huge bang on the side of the van scares you both away from each other. 
“Give her time, my ass, Munson! Get the fuck out here! Get your fucking hands off my girl!”
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endearng · 1 day ago
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Out of reach
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Pairing: earlyseasons!Spencer Reid x hotchner!fem!reader Summary: You pull away from Spencer because of your jealousy. You go back to him after a few drinks in. WC: 9k A/N: fluff! pining! idiots/friends to lovers! alcohol consumption; spencer is a bit mean; reader doesn't communicate; hotch is a little older to have a daughter around spencer's age (do not come at me this is fiction). If I missed anything, please let me know! I had so much fun writing this one and it's now one of my favorites <3 masterlist
The jet was quiet as you and the BAU team made your way back from Los Angeles after successfully finding Lila Archer's stalker. The case had been a bit draining, after all, you've only been working with the FBI for a couple of months, and seeing dead bodies and all those other displays of violence was something you were still trying to get used to. Despite your sensitive nature, being Aaron Hotchner's daughter meant that you had mastered the art of a poker face through the years, not that it meant that your inner feelings were any less important. This is how you found yourself sitting all alone in a corner of the jet as everyone minded their own business. On any other day, you'd be sitting next to Dr. Spencer Reid, talking about whatever it was that could get your mind off the case you had just wrapped up. Spencer and you were friends, some would even say the best of friends, but you didn't mind about naming things — what mattered the most is that you got to be yourself around him and you didn't bother hiding behind the Hotchner glare, as he once put it.
Despite being unknown territory for you, after all, feelings and all that were protected by a deeply analytic and practical mind, you knew what you were feeling. Well, you were analyzing your reactions to check what had actually happened — and the thing is, you couldn't admit, not even to yourself, what that sinking feeling in your chest when you watched Spencer saying goodbye to Lila was. Amid your analysis, Spencer quietly approached you, silently motioning to the seat next to you. You nodded, shutting every single thought of him. Or at least, trying.
"Hi."
Hotch glare. "Hi, Reid."
Spencer felt nervous. He had never been on the receiving end of your… wrath before, so it was unknown territory and he didn't know how to act. His racing heart and clammy palms weren't helping him, either. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Listen, um, you... can... can we talk?" The stammering. Way to go, Spencer.
Glancing at him, ignoring the skip in your heartbeat, you nodded. "Yeah. Is everything alright?" A firm, secure tone. You mentally patted yourself on the back.
"You're a little distant... and—and I got a bit worried. Did... Did something happen?" He wanted to kick himself. What kind of person can't hold a serious conversation without stuttering like an idiot? Get a grip, Reid.
"No, Reid. Everything is alright. I'm just... thinking." You said.
Bullshit. You both knew that. Spencer, on the other hand, didn't know why it was bullshit. But he knew it was.
"Are you sure?" He asked, leaning towards you, almost invading your personal space and he shut his eyes before delivering the next question, "Is... I haven't done anything to upset you? Right?"
You took a second to answer him, willing your voice to stay still and the knot in your throat to go away. "No. It's nothing you've done. It's just... it's on me." You gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes — that's when he knew something was definitely wrong.
He nodded, but he was still worried by your sudden change of behavior, especially towards him. It was like he was anyone else, again. And, God, he didn't want that. "What is it, then? You can talk to me, you know. We're best friends."
Best friends.
The words felt bitter on his tongue. The sound of them broke your heart all over again.
Best friends. "Right. Yeah. I know." You said, quietly, and it felt a little lifeless to him. He clenched his hand, fighting the urge to touch you, to ask you what was truly bothering you. "Thanks for offering."
Spencer felt conflicted. If he didn't say anything and didn't push you to speak, you would probably bury whatever it was that you were feeling and it would lead him into being even more worried about you. If he did, you would probably snap at him because of his undesired, bothersome insistence. "It's nothing." He said, defeatedly. "Can you just... Do you promise it's not me?"
Your heart ached and you smiled at him, a tiny, faint, barely there smile. He was so adorable, sometimes. "I'm just upset over something else. Don’t worry. You didn't do anything wrong." You finished, trying to convince yourself that he had not, indeed, done something wrong.
And he didn't. He didn't. You and Spencer, despite your proximity and sometimes incredibly ambiguous relationship, hadn't said anything about deeper feelings towards one another. You let yourself admire him, lovingly, from afar, and were happy with the snippets of attention you had from him when you two had some free time. You two were regulars in the coffee shop near his apartment and, by now, the local librarian, Mrs. Jones, could probably fake your signature from how often you two went there to borrow books. She would watch you two behind the bookshelves, whispering excitedly and curiously to each other about whatever suggestions you were getting from each other. As you missed Spencer's longing glances to read a summary, Mrs. Jones smiled to herself, both at how adorable you two were and how oblivious you were. In museums, you would sit down after some time walking around to his explanations of art and historical movements that impacted the expression of a certain age — you pretended to not know a few things, just so he could speak his heart away and not be interrupted by your own contributions.
You kept silent to make him happy.
Which was exactly what was happening now.
Spencer knew, for sure, that you were hiding something from him. But he also knew that he had no right to force it out. He fidgeted awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands, his heart still clenching. “But, but... you’d come to me if you needed help, right?”
You nodded, unable to speak. You knew you were wrong, omitting things from him. Just as the guilt was starting to weigh in your heart, Derek passed by you two with a magazine in his hands, throwing it at Spencer, exclaiming, "My man!"
You looked down, already knowing what it was. Spencer was a mess beside you: blushing, stuttering, avoiding your and Derek's gaze and throwing the magazine as far as he could, like it had burned him. Your reaction was a subtle twitch of your lips, not in amusement, but in need to disguise the pang in your heart. You both spent the rest of the flight sitting in silence, simply being in each other's orbit. You, guiltily. Spencer, worriedly.
Your reaction — or lack of — was staggering to Spencer. He thought you two were getting somewhere, despite your closed off nature and demeanor, he thought he was finally cracking you up. Everyday was torture, seeing you walk through the bullpen's glass doors with your professional clothes and your composed figure. It was torture to see you walk around so prettily and serious, holding his bare heart in your hands, and not even realizing it. By now, he lived and thrived on those rare opportunities you had to spend time together as he became more and more covered in you.
As the jet landed and Spencer walked out to talk to Derek, you pettily made sure to step on Lila Archer's face when leaving the jet in sheer frustration.
Back to the bullpen, you had gone to the restroom to splash some water on your face in order to calm your nerves and to tell yourself that it was only a matter of time until things got back to normal — until you got back to normal. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you wondered if Spencer could tell that there was something wrong with you, if you had let any of your feelings slip during your short conversation. The version of you that stared back was as impassible as you ever were. As you made your way to your desk in the dimly lit sea of desks, you caught Spencer and Derek talking, both having their backs to you.
Sighing, you just left the headquarters, not wanting to know what they were discussing, or rather, knowing what they were discussing, but unwilling to stay, even if it would quench your curiosity as to what Spencer had been thinking.
Maybe you didn't want to know the answer.
The days went by, cases coming left and right, flights making you almost dizzy — not that you would admit, but you were terrified of heights. Between those and your training, you barely had time to think about Spencer and the entire Lila occasion. You spent your days busy with work, studies and physical training in order to keep your mind away from that, but as you lay awake at night, the memories would come back to haunt you relentlessly to the point you had recurring dreams of them. Together, as you watched from the sidelines. You kept to yourself, slipping further and further away from Spencer.
Reid, on the other hand, felt your absence more than anyone. You took a rain check on all the invitations he made, even when he invited you to movie night, when he would definitely choose a Russian movie because you mentioned once how you liked how the language sounds. There wasn't any more donuts on his desk as he arrived in the morning (he would always joke that you and your father secretly lived in the headquarters and that someday he would see Haley bringing your groceries to the secret house), and there was no one for him to throw his paper airplanes, small flashcards with the Russian phonological alphabet, at. The change in your behavior was absurdly clear to everyone: you barely called or texted him anymore, you didn't look his way when someone told a joke to check if he thought it was funny... He was sulking, to say the least. Upon questioning you, you blamed your lack of free time and as he was going to question you further, you said in a teasing tone that not everyone was like him and that the FBI was actually making you go through all the training phases.
Finally, during the end of a particularly frustrating workday, he finally snapped, grabbing your arm before you could enter the elevator. It was only you and him in the otherwise empty hallway. "Ok. What's been going on? And don't," he said, closing his eyes, "don't dance around the subject. Don't say it's the Academy. Don't say you have to work. Don't. Please, be honest with me."
The exasperation in his eyes and in his tone almost broke the wall that hid your true feelings, but as you glanced at him, you figured you couldn't do it. Be honest? What for? To hear that you're nothing more than his best friend? Losing said friend was not an option, not to you, at least. But you also knew that you weren't treating him right, that keeping him out was not at all fair to him, that leaving him in the dark was as hurtful as it would be to lose him.
Breathing deeply, you answered with the same stoic expression you wore every single damn day. "I told you, Reid. People go through different, busier times in their lives." The lie tasted like acid.
Spencer clenched his teeth, frustration and confusion beginning to override some of his social anxieties. “That! That!” He asked through clenched teeth, his gaze intense.
"That what?" You asked, puzzled.
"You... you stopped calling me 'Spence'—not that you did it often, you did it more when we were all alone, and it... it sucks! It sucks because I don't know what happened or what I did that was so wrong to make you stop liking me!"
Come on, just say something! Get angry, get sad, get something!, his mind screamed.
"I never stopped liking you," you said, looking away from him. His words hit a particular spot that you were totally willing to discover later, but the mere thought that he knew that you liked him more than as a friend made you shiver.
"That's not the point! Or—or rather, it is! Because if you didn't stop liking me, why would you act like you did?" He asked, his tone rising a bit.
"Calm down."
"Calm down? I will not calm down!" He almost yelled. His eyes widened slightly, disbelief clear in his features and tone, not to mention the frustration. "Just. Please.” He said, closing his eyes, willing himself to tone it down, not that it worked... “Tell me what you're thinking, what happened to you! For once! Any normal person would react and stop acting like an emotionless robot!"
You gaped like a fish out of water, taking a small step back, his words digging a hole in your heart. Upon hearing his own words and noticing you distancing yourself from him, all the anger vanished from his body. The widened eyes were a sign of realization of what he had said to you. During the early months of friendship, you had confided in him that you struggled with portraying emotion like others normally did. Maybe it had something to do with growing up with a father who did it so perfectly when he was out of the house. When he wasn't actively playing the ‘dad’ part, Aaron Hotchner would wear an unreadable mask like it was his armor, his defense from the outer world, but as soon as he got home, he was back to his main role. You would watch him with his coworkers and mimic him perfectly to make him laugh. At some point, making fun of and imitating his demeanor had become some serious form of self-defense for you. Spencer, then, joked that you were making your way to the perfect job, but then he had gotten serious and told you that it wasn't a flaw. That it wasn't a problem that you kept deeply to yourself sometimes — that it was okay to be yourself around him. You had felt safe by his side since then.
But now, what did those words mean? Were they lies?
He breathed out your name, softly, "I... I... I'm sorry."
"Just drop it," you replied, pushing the elevator button. Your dismissive tone and your action of leaving made Spencer feel utterly desolate, like he had done the wrongest thing in the world and perhaps he had, but he just wanted you to let him in. For once, he wanted to have the answers from your lips, not spend any more time analyzing your every single action and words...
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"You know, Spencer…" he looked up at you when he heard his name, as you held out an arm to hold the elevator doors open. As if thinking better than to say anything, you sighed and turned to enter the elevator, shaking your head with the most disappointed look he had ever seen on your face.
Spencer tried looking at you one last time before the elevator doors closed, and despite your face being as unreadable as it often was, he saw a flicker of sadness that stung his heart more than he liked to admit. If he hadn't done anything wrong before, now he had utterly fucked everything up.
The drive home, for Spencer, was a torture. He knew that he had to pay attention to the road ahead of him, to the other vehicles and drivers, but his mind kept drifting to the last glimpse of you back in the headquarters. Your empty eyes appeared behind his eyelids every time he pressed his eyes closed. He willed himself not to cry, to not blur his vision, taking his frustration out on the steering wheel, where his grip was so tight that his knuckles turned white. As he parked his car and looked up to one of his windows, he remembered you. Because of course he would remember you.
The sight was almost comical, to be honest. You, clad in one of the suits that fitted you so well, sitting on his windowsill, a cup of green tea in hands as you stared out the window, trying to analyze every single drop of rain before it reached somewhere outside your vision range. The funny thing was that you had no shoes on, instead, Spencer lent you a mismatched pair, not being one used to having people over, he didn't have a pair of spare slippers. Then, you sat there with a dinosaur-pattern sock on one foot and a striped-pattern sock on the other.
Spencer, sitting on his sofa and holding his own cup (he had let you choose your mug and stayed quiet when you pointed quietly at his favorite), smiled to himself. It was weirdly calming seeing you out of your character, doing something so... human.
"I can feel you staring, you know," you said. And your tone was almost... teasing?
"Right. Sorry." He said, looking down at his steaming tea.
"I'm not scolding you," you said, turning to look at his direction with a grin.
"Right, no—heh..." he replied, bashfully, cheeks reddening at the sight of your smile.
If only you knew... how many hours he would lay awake at night, as thoughts swirled in his head, how everything seemed to shut down at the thought of you. How he would fall asleep to the wish of being on the receiving end of one of your rare smiles, how he appreciated that you were always the first one he talked to upon his arrival at the headquarters. How... how he would do anything for you to look at him under a different light.
Seemingly out of nowhere, you giggled. Everything stopped.
Spencer.exe has stopped working.
"Heheh—I guess... It's not everyday you get to see a Hotchner so out of its—heheh—habitat." You quipped, looking at him with a smile on your face.
Suddenly, Spencer lost his voice. The connection between his brain and his tongue, which felt heavy, disappeared. Completely speechless, eyes slightly wide at the sound of your laughter. It made you laugh a bit more, but when his stare and open mouth got too much to handle, you looked down at your feet, wiggling your toes to distract yourself from the intensity of his gaze full of awe. Then, Spencer got back to his senses, smiling at you as you missed it to look away in embarrassment.
Spencer blinked away the tears and left his car, entering his apartment. As he took off his shoes, he let the tears fall at the sight of your windowsill.
Meanwhile, you were getting wasted at some bar. Not just any bar, but the one you usually went with Spencer when you were feeling daring and wanted a change from the places where you both used to go to. You were a bit of a lightweight, so a couple of drinks were enough for you to start playing trivia with Spencer and let your gaze linger for longer, basking in the sight of him so carefree, having fun with you.
Upon your arrival, the bartender that usually took care of your orders, MJ, greeted you with a smile. When she saw no one was joining you, she frowned. "Good evening, Hotch. Where's loverboy?"
You sent her a look, but since you were letting your guard down, after all, there were no acquaintances or friends around, you didn't know if the look came out as a glare or if you looked like a kicked puppy. She snorted. "Gee... That bad, huh?" She asked, and you didn't answer again, though you muttered a soft thanks, MJ when she gave you your go-to drink.
And it turned into two drinks. Three. Four...
(MJ was now giving you alcohol-free drinks, too worried for your well-being. You and Spencer started to grow on her as you two kept coming back.)
You rested your chin on your left hand while you traced patterns with your right index finger on the counter. MJ was eyeing you suspiciously, drying a few glasses with a washcloth. "He kissed another girl." You admitted, quietly.
"No way." She gasped.
"Way."
"But... I thought you two were a thing." MJ was baffled, placing down the objects she was holding in sheer shock. "I always thought you two were like... together for years."
"We were a thing.... I think, at least... I don't know, MJ." You sighed, tucking a stray of hair behind your ear. Looking up at her, hazy eyes taking in her focused expression, you sniffled, "we were on this case and then he met a girl and then the next moment the two of them were making out in a pool. In a freaking pool."
She tsked, anger flashing in her eyes, "I swear, those nerdy guys are the worst."
"Yeah..." You muttered, fiddling with your straw. "Can I have another one?"
She pursed her lips, but she relented. Then, as she handed you the liquid, a guy sat next to you. Did he look like Spencer or were you already hallucinating?
"Hi. I'm Dave. Can I buy you a drink...?" He asked with a small smile, wanting to know your name.
No, not Spencer. It’s cool.
"Hi, I..."
MJ cut you off. "Hey, Dave, I think she had too much to drink already."
They exchanged looks and it took you a minute to feel offended by her interruption and knowing you were perfectly capable of speaking for yourself, but realizing you would probably have to entertain a stranger, you felt grateful for it.
Dave left with a sour smile. "Thanks." You muttered, again, looking at MJ.
"Do you need me to get you a cab, honey?"
"That would be great." You said, placing money bills to pay for your drinks and the tip.
MJ looked around to spot someone to keep an eye on the bar as she led you out of the place, hand never leaving your shoulder. As she called a cab, she made you stand on only one leg to make sure you weren't gonna need her to go with you. You scoffed, but obeyed her all the same, with a low snicker. As you two waited for the cab driver, a woman who MJ trusted with her life (and her favorite regulars), you tried to make conversation to make up for embarrassing yourself by talking about Spencer with someone. How pathetic.
"So, what does MJ stand for?"
She chuckled, shaking her head at you and at your dazed eyes. "That's classified information."
"I'm familiar with that."
The cab driver, Paula, arrived. She greeted the both of you with a smile and a cheerful good evening! As you entered the vehicle, you rolled the windows down and pressed the subject further, "Seriously, is it Mary Jane or were your parents more creative?"
She rolled your eyes at you, shaking her head. "It's Mary Jane. MJ because who would take me seriously?"
You smiled. "I like the shoes!"
Paula started driving slowly, just to let other drivers drop their own passengers, as you were lost in your own little world, serious expression taking over your face again, not wavering, as you delved deeper into the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing your head. Paula, looking at you through the rear-view mirror, asked, "Is everything okay, honey?"
You buckled your seatbelt. "Yes, yes. Just... keep driving slowly, please."
"Where to?"
Only then you realized you never gave her an address. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you gave her Spencer's, telling her you were going home.
An unknown number had sent Spencer a couple of messages.
[8:32 p.m.] Lovergirl is here, drinking all by herself.
[8:32 p.m.] Water, but still. I'm not having her passed out without you here.
[8:40 p.m.] Sent her home, people were starting to approach.
Throughout the time he had spent with you at the bar, the two of you exchanged numbers with MJ in case she needed your help — you know, being FBI agents and whatnot. But Spencer didn't need to see her name to know it was her and she was talking about you; 'lovergirl' and 'passed out without you here' gave him clue enough. His stomach tied in knots when he read that people were starting to approach her, the nagging feeling that the image conjured in his mind was making him feel almost sick, then, it hit him like a truck: Lila Archer.
Their… case? was as fleeting as a careless glance. To be honest, Spencer accepted her advances to spite you for having such power over him, even if unknowingly so. The young agent felt like you were so out of his league, so out of reach — you were all that pile of confidence and stoicism and pure lusciousness and everything to him. And he was a young guy who truly had barely been kissed so far. How could he approach you, charm his way into your heart, especially when you barely bared it? With Lila, it was... nice. Easy, even. It was nice being wanted, to be able to read her intentions and desires like a children's book. With you, it was a tantalizing challenge, one he was, for the first time, struggling with. It was not like having a high-school crush, not like pining over the untouchable girls that would catch his interest as he grew older. No. This was something new. You had hit him deeper than ever or anyone before.
Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, he gave room to the anxious thoughts regarding your father as well. Would it affect his relationship with his superior? Would it affect your relationship with your father? Spencer felt dizzy just by the mere thought of ruining something uniquely yours. No, he couldn't impose himself on your life like that. It was mean, it was wrong, it was immoral.
To want, to desire, is to be selfish.
It was a bold assumption. To think you were jealous of him. Nevertheless, the signs were all there, had been all along. He was just dumb and scared enough of making assumptions.
A barely there, faint sound of a knock on his door made Spencer fly out of his bed, dropping his phone on the bedroom floor, but he didn't pick it up. He had a suspicion as to who could be knocking on his door, but he was too scared of assuming anything. Again. Opening the door, he saw you, breathing a bit heavily. The stairs, he supposed. You always complained about them. Once you exchanged looks, Spencer’s surprised one and your earnest one, you asked, "Do you really think I'm a robot?"
Shit. He could feel his heart breaking in a million little pieces. The insecure edge of your voice and words made him squeeze his eyes shut; in his mind, he was kicking himself simultaneously as he sank down to his knees, on your feet, begging you to forgive and forget his dumb, stupid, frustrated, unrealistic words.
"No," he breathed out, wincing, almost as if he was in physical pain. "I—I didn't mean to talk about you like that. I was..."
"Frustrated?"
He nodded, silently, eyes never leaving your face. Your speech, albeit way out of the ordinary that he was used to, was flawless. If not by the dilated pupils and the faint smell of alcohol, not to mention MJ's texts, he would dare to say you were perfectly sober. "I was, too." You admitted, looking down.
Spencer made way for you to enter his apartment. He watched as you kicked your shoes off. The sight, that had become as common as the act of breathing, made his way flutter. You intended on staying. Or so he hoped. You walked further into the place, noticing everything as it ever was, as if you hadn't been to his apartment for some time now. "You must be thinking why I'm here," you said, moving to sit on the couch and mentioning him to sit on the small coffee table in front of you, as if you owned the place, and not him.
Perhaps it was true.
He closed the door once you were inside, hesitating for a moment before joining you. He kept noticing things about you; the way you were walking, the way you could barely look him in the eye, the way you looked… “How much did you have to drink?” He asked, quietly.
"Not much. You know I don't usually drink because I can’t hold my drinks. And I'm sure MJ was giving me plain water at some point." You said, looking up at him. Well, at least, your speech flawlessly delivered, even though you were moving a bit more… disoriented than usual. She's totally a Hotchner.
"I... I am," he started, sitting in front of you carefully. "I... I'm sorry. It's just... You've never been so distant. I guess that I was mean to you to elicit some reaction."
Your analytical gaze softened upon his confession. You needed to give him some break, be a little easy on him. Well, easier than you were being as of lately. Nodding lightly, you added, "I'm here to apologize, too. I know... I know that I pushed you away and I made you think that... that that was your fault. It's not."
He froze. No, he wouldn't have you taking the blame for how his actions caused you to react. He looked up at you, reaching out a hand to touch your intertwined ones, "It is."
"Hear me out. Please." You said, lowly, not breaking eye contact. This was so hard, and you had never felt so afraid before. How ironic — to be afraid of being brave. "I... I guess that by now you know why I pulled away."
"I do," he admitted, nervously. "It took me some time, but I... I think I figured you out."
You looked down, embarrassed. It was overwhelming for him to see you portray such different and so many emotions all at once. To you, it was as agonizing as it was freeing. "Well, yes. So... It, um, it wasn't fair. We... we are not something. We are not a thing."
His heart, doing all the thinking and feeling, nearly stopped. As if it wasn't enough, you kept on going, "I'm sorry, I truly am, for how I behaved and how I made you feel by being absent. It's... it's not my place. You have your own life, Reid. I can't be upset with you for making decisions. You're a grown man..." you sighed, glancing at every direction but at him. "I know that I'm wrong, okay? And I know that I shouldn't have pushed you away, nor should I have kept my feelings from you."
Spencer drew in a long breath. He didn't know what to say, but you couldn't be more wrong. All at once, he wanted to scream, but he didn't know what ro say; he wanted to run, but he didn't want to leave you alone — not for a second. He didn't ever want you out of his sight; he didn't want to be the one you were apologizing to, hell, he wanted everything to be okay between them, but it was nice that she was talking to him, finally.
"I..."
Every time he thought he could say something, words failed him. Then, you took it as another opportunity to word-vomit everything you've been feeling. "I was... I was jealous. I didn't like to see that. I didn't like that it happened. But I also know that I have no right to be upset with you because you're single and she's attractive and you're both consenting and willing to do whatever you please, so..." You shrugged as if speaking those words aloud didn't stab new holes in your heart.
Spencer looked at you, totally speechless. It made you snicker. And speak further. Shut up, you idiot. Please, please, please! "And, ah—hahahah—I guess I am, indeed, a bit of a robot because it took me a bit of alcohol to pluck up the courage to come here and totally—hic—destroy our friendship by telling you I love you so much; that I'd hate to see you with anyone other than me. It happened and I hated it. It still stings."
Spencer's heart threatened to fail once again. Your giggles, your words, your confession... His mind completely short-circuited. She loved him. She loved him? She loved him?!?!???!!! That’s what she’d just said, apparently. Okay, calm down. And she’d been jealous. She didn’t like him kissing another woman, because she fucking loved him. Say something, you dumb idiot, his brain shrieked. Say something!
You parted your lips to say something else, but apparently decided against it. Another beat of silence of Spencer staring dumbly at you. "I'm going," you blurted out, standing up.
Spencer, at breakneck speed, stood up as well to stop you from walking away, placing his hands tentatively on your shoulders. Your bodies were now apart by mere inches. "No." His voice was so small and pained that you sat back down.
Despite your apparent willingness, your next words told him about your turmoil. "Why would I stay, Spencer? I've been pouring my heart out to you and you haven't said a thing."
Looking at you, so bare and so vulnerable, Spencer suddenly had flashbacks from when he had lashed out on you earlier and simultaneously fought the feelings that were bubbling inside of him upon your confession. Couldn't you see the sheer shock on his face? Couldn't you see that he was battling against every single bit of self restraint not to pull you into his embrace and make you believe him when he would tell you that you were the only woman for him?
Sure, he had dreamed of you saying those words to him countless times as time went by and you two got closer. Shit, he literally dreamed of it. Of you. Speaking sweet nothings to him... He broke out of his daze, realizing that he was deadly silent, "Don't go..."
"Then say something. I'm here. Not as Hotch's daughter, not as your coworker, not as a part of the team you work with. I'm here as the woman in whose heart you've grown over the last few months. I'm terrified of your answer and you keep depriving me of it." There was a hint of annoyance and hurry on your voice, and he could understand you, he truly could. He just didn't... he lost his voice when he looked at you.
Saying your name softly, he beginned, “I said stupid, untrue things, and I’m sorry. I’m a jerk, and I know that I’m a jerk and—" You quirked your eyebrow and he took a deep breath, trying to cut his rant. "Just... don't sit there and think that I have nothing to say."
"Have you said it?" You pressed it, quirking an eyebrow.
"No." He admitted, widening his eyes a bit as he realized his mistake.
At the same time, you shot, "Not saying something is also an answer for me—"
"—but not for the reasons you're thinking! Do you know how hard it is for me right now?" Spencer was starting to sound very desperate and pathetic, not to mention the fact that he wasn't answering your questions.
Deep breaths (from both ends).
"Look, Reid..." He glared at you upon hearing his last name. "I think I should go home. You and I clearly need some space—"
"What we need to do is talk."
You sighed. "Then why won't you give me an answer?"
Silence.
"You won't even remember this in the morning."
At that, you deemed yourself utterly defeated. This was useless. "I'm sorry I came over. I'm... I'll just go, okay? Please, don't be upset about tonight. I apologize in advance."
The sight of her, once more shying away from him and turning to escape from him, was making Spencer frustrated, with himself, to no end. His heart clenched at your apology, to which he shook his head vehemently. The thing is, he wanted to get ready to answer you, properly, just like he always had some trick up his sleeve or some funny or curious fact to blurt during the most random moments. Spencer was good at speaking, but only when the speech was already ingrained into his mind, something he had read or rehearsed before. Plus, he was sure your state of drunkenness would stop you from remembering that moment.
Spencer dashed to his door, barely stopping you. No, no, no, no, no... She can't leave. This might be my only chance. "You're not going anywhere."
"Excuse me?"
"Stay with me. I don't want you to go." He said, softly, slowly, looking straight into your eyes. It made you dizzy. Either that or the alcohol.
"No?"
"Y-you're drunk and I... I don't think it's safe for you to go by yourself and it's late and... and..." he trailed off, nervously, desperate to get you to stay.
"I'm not drunk."
"You're not fooling me. You might be as concise as ever but you're not sober. Stay."
"Promise... promise you won't be upset with me?"
His heart dropped, heavy with guilt. And with love for you. "I promise."
Spencer silently led you back to the couch, gingerly holding your hand. He felt dazzled, speechless, desperate, frustrated, all at once. But your touch was starting to ground him back to reality, where you were real, having confessed your feelings for him, and he was a mess, not even being able to say anything back. Without much thinking, he said, "You should stay over tonight."
"Okay... I'll take the couch."
"As if I'd let you sleep on the couch."
"It's okay."
"Stop... stop acting like I sent you away."
You kept silent. You felt like he did. Through his touch, he hoped to get you to understand that his feelings were a mess, but they existed, and they were real, and they were yours. "That'd be alright with me, you know. Taking your couch. I think I would sleep better on your floor than I would ever in my bed. To... to say that anything is better if you're somehow involved."
His stomach made a flip-flop. Brain short-circuited again. You yawned, as if you had just made an annoying comment on the weather.
"Are you tired?" He managed to mutter.
"I am."
"Come on. Let's get you to bed."
"No."
"What do you mean 'no'? I'm not letting you on the couch. Come on."
"I can't go to your bed with outside clothes." You booped his nose.
He chuckled lowly, confused a little by your words. "Are you seriously worried about clothes?"
"You don't like germs. That's why I removed my shoes."
Okay, he thought, if I manage to put her to sleep without having a heart attack, I definitely don't need a cardiologist's appointment because it would mean I'm that strong.
"Y-you... remembered?" Damn it, Reid. Stop stuttering.
You sighed, tiredly, and rested your head on his shoulder, looking down at his hand holding yours. "I remember everything about you."
"You do?"
"Yes. Fortunately or unfortunately."
Spencer was too stunned to speak. Too stunned, too dumb, too afraid. Damn it. Damn it. He couldn't stop cursing internally. He forced himself to pull you towards his bedroom and even though he still sensed some uncertainty, he kept going. Reaching for a pair of sweatpants and a big t-shirt, he gave those to you. "You can change into these," as he left the room to make you more comfortable.
"Wait!" You almost shrieked.
"What happened?" He prompted, worriedly, reaching a hand out to touch your arm.
"I don't want you to go."
He bit back a sigh. "I'll be just outside."
"Just... stay here?"
"I can't—" he interrupted himself, just turning around so his back was to you instead. At that, he looked up at his ceiling and prayed to any deity to let him survive that night.
He could hear the sounds of your movements. The zipper being undone, the soft ruffling of the fabric as you tugged your shirt up your head... He was imagining your exposed skin, every perfect inch, how would you look without all those clothes that suited you so nicely, how would it be to touch you, to run his fingertips all over your heated skin, how would it be to kiss every freckle on your body, to—"Done."
Turning around, the sight was adorable, which made him somewhat guilty of his early impure thoughts. "I feel like Alice when she shrunk into a tiny human."
He couldn't fight the smile at your words. He led you to his bed, where you laid on your back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. Spencer left you briefly to get you a glass of water and some painkillers to leave by the bedside table. You thanked him with a silent glance. As he turned to leave, once again, you said in a small voice, almost phrasing it like a question, too afraid of the answer. "Stay."
"I'll take the couch."
"You asked me to stay, thrice, I guess… And I did. I asked you once and you did. I still have a few requests left. I'm keeping tabs."
He relented, laying next to you and placing a pillow between you two. You breathed out a chuckle and he shook his head, clearly knowing where your mind had gone to. He placed his hand on top of the pillow, offering his comfort, and then you tentatively placed yours on top of his. He grinned to himself.
It was hard for him to wrap his head around what had happened that night. He knew his words — or lack of — could be read the wrong way and you possibly did, but he also hoped that his actions were speaking louder. Just as he was getting lost in thought again, he heard your voice once more.
"Spence?"
That damned nickname.
"Thanks for, um, being so respectful. Not that I don't think you'd be. But, um, as you've said, I'm drunk. And I told you I love you. And you're simply holding my hand." He gulped. He was keeping count, too, of how many times you said you loved him. Twice, so far, but he wanted so much more, endlessly. He wanted to lose track. "I guess... that makes me love you even more," you finished, crushing his heart between your palms, voice thick with sleep.
When he finally turned his head to look at you, your eyes were closed and you looked peaceful, drifting off to sleep. Then, when he was sure you were actually asleep, he stood up from his bed, grabbing a pillow and a spare blanket to lay on the floor.
"I'll gladly sleep on my floor if it means I get to have you around, too..."
Spencer didn't get any sleep.
He tossed and turned on the floor all night long, both because his carpet was not the most comfortable spot to sleep on, but also and mostly because there was no way in hell his mind stopped working. All through the night, Spencer fought the urge to shake you awake to ask if this was real, if you really loved him, if the words that slipped through your lips were in fact your feelings towards him. Despite his curiosity and eagerness, he let you sleep, figuring that he had already put you through too much already. As you slept, a movie played on his mind: your moments together, your confession of love, and overthinking the words we are not something. We are not a thing. He feared that you would wake up and realize how badly he had screwed up and decide not to want him anymore. Yes, he was that anxious.
You, on the other hand, even though confused by his lack of answer to your heart’s words, felt lighter than ever by speaking out your truth (the booze did help you a lot, though). Being as analytical as you were had its perks. One of them is that you never let yourself suffer too much for too long, too attached to reality to care much about the rest. So what if he rejected you? Life goes on — and that’s what you thought with every other loser that you caught yourself thinking too much of. Spencer, though… Who were you kidding? Spencer was Spencer. And that meant the world… It wasn’t so bad, if he actually rejected you… you’d only have to face him every day, until the rest of your lives, doomed to work together, cursed to think and rethink all over again small, fleeting moments such as an exchange of longing glances.
(You felt strangely calm due to your touch with reality. Maybe, just maybe, you were hoping for the best based on his care with and for you. But boy, were you ready to give him a piece of your mind.)
As your eyes fluttered open, you stretched your limbs on an unfamiliar bed with too much space. Upon your confusion, the memories came back with full force. You jolted, sitting down, searching for him — and, to be honest, not wanting to find him. The house was deadly silent, so you tried to trick yourself that you were sure he wasn't there. You dashed to the bathroom, taking a quick shower to get rid of the shame and the faint reek of alcohol. As you moved around his stuff, you couldn't help but think that you were so familiar with his things that it was almost like you belonged there. Sigh. It turns out that hiding emotions is easier than feeling them, especially their extremes.
As soon as you finished putting on your own clothes, you stopped dead in your tracks as you heard footsteps outside the bedroom. You froze, not knowing what to say. Or do.
Spencer entered the room, holding a tray meticulously organized with some food on it. “Morning. I, um, made you breakfast.” Because of course he would make you fucking breakfast. 
“Morning,” you replied awkwardly and hoarsely. Maybe you cried a little bit, who knows… “Thanks, you didn't have to.”
“I did.”
You take your time to get a good look at him. He had bags under his eyes that appeared to be tired. The sight made your heart drop. “I'm sorry…”
“Don't be.”
“But I was wrong.”
“So was I.”
“But—”
“Last night you said some things. Do you, uh, do you remember what you told me?” You nodded, unable to speak. “Do you remember what you told me?” He repeated, trying to get a verbal answer from you.
“Yes, Spencer. I remember.”
“Can you listen to what I have to say now?”
You nodded, weakly.
“I didn't say anything because… because everything had gone in the most opposite direction they could've gone.” He said, approaching you calmly. “I was up the entire night, hoping to find the right words to tell you that would make you believe me after I… was stupid. I… First, I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I know you said that we're nothing, that we weren't something, that we didn't have anything… but… but you're everything to me.” At that, your eyes finally met his. The intensity of your gaze made him shudder, but he kept going. “All the time we've spent together was nothing compared to what I want to have with you… and… and… God! Do you have any idea of the torture I was put through with you? Constantly thinking of what we could be, what we should be, too scared of your reaction or that—that—that Hotch decided to chop off my neck because he found out that I was crushing on his only daughter!”
At the mention of your dad, you burst out laughing. Seriously? That was such a cliché! “Hey! I'm serious!”
“I'm sorry…” You bit your bottom lip, fighting the urge to laugh at him some more. He was adorable.
“As I was saying,” he continued, trying to sound annoyed, but a hint of a smile threatened to break on his lips, and he didn't pull away when you approached him nor he did when you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest, looking up at him, adoringly. He looked down, meeting your gaze,  “I… I love you. I love you too. God, it just feels so good to say that!”
You giggled, again. God, he could never get used to that sound.
“And I’m sorry for being so mean to you when I was frustrated. I should have been more patient and my unthoughtful words hurt you.” You kept silent, remembering his words. “I—I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing if you’ll have me.” He added, intimidated by your gaze.
Silence. “Well, I accept your apologies. I was unfair to you as well. And you know where I stand when it comes to you. My feelings, I mean.”
“I do… But…”
“But?”
“I'd like to hear you say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you love me?”
“I don't know. Do I, really?” You joked.
He blushed furiously, ready to stutter himself out of that situation. “No, I mean… you—you said that—that you remembered what you said last night and… so… putting two and two…”
Another giggle interrupted him. You traced his jawline, leaning up to kiss his right cheek. “I really, really love you.” A kiss to his left cheek. He chuckled. “I love you.” A kiss on the tip of his nose, to which he snorted, totally lovestruck. “So much.” A lingering, tender kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes, already anticipating the next spot you would press your soft lips to.
As you made your way to finally kiss his lips, you decided to tease him and let him wait for a bit longer. Spencer groaned in protest and you chuckled a bit, finally deciding that it was enough. Pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, making him sigh, you were thrilling on making him more and more eager. His grip on you tightened just slightly as he let out a shaky breath. You wanted to laugh, but instead, you poked fun at him. “Now you know what it's like to be teased.”
“I love you. Oh, Jesus… You're driving me insane. You're here… And you, you're you…”
You grinned, looking up at him, finally, finally pressing your lips to his. As you let out a small sigh, his breath hitched, both of you utterly drowning in relief and satisfaction. You pulled back a bit, grinning, going back to kissing him. Spencer's hands found your jawline, sliding back to tangle in your hair as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth. Parting your lips slightly, you granted him full access to kiss you properly, and he moaned at the taste of you, gripping your hair rougher than before. You groaned softly, and he proudly heard and swallowed all your small sounds.
The ring of a phone broke the urgent atmosphere that was building between you two. Spencer ignored it, letting it ring until you pulled away, gasping for air. As you did, the noise stopped and you met his lost eyes, totally dumbstruck, and you laughed because you probably looked the same way. He gave you a charming, lopsided grin, too stupid, too hypnotized to say anything.
The phone began ringing again. “Son of a…!” he cursed, picking up the phone. “Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and unless this is an absolute emergency, I'm kinda busy—”
“Reid.” Aaron Hotchner's firm voice hit Spencer like a bucket of cold water. Widening his eyes, he gulped.
“Yes… sir?” You smiled at that. Of course you knew who he was talking to.
“We have a new case.” Hotch announced.
“Oh… okay… I, um, I—I'll be there in 20.”
Silence.
“Is everything okay, Reid?” Hotchner could read anyone, Spencer was now sure of that. Even through the goddamned phone.
“Wh—yeah, yeah… Everything's… totally f—fine.” He cursed under his breath as you gripped his vest, trying not to laugh.
“Do you know where she is?” Hotch inquired after another moment of quietness. 
“Who?” He squeaked. You chuckled silently.
“My daughter.” Of course it was his daughter.
Playing dumb is not a good look on you, you mouthed.
“N—no… I haven't… heard from her.”
“Sure.” Hotch said, skeptically. Spencer could feel the sweat on his forehead. After a moment, your father finished the call with an unreadable “We need to talk.”
Once the phone call ended, you burst out laughing at Spencer's reaction. “Not funny.” He protested, a frown on his face and a soft smile betraying his faux frustration.
“Come on, it is funny.”
He glared at you. “What do you think he wants to talk about?”
“I don't know. Men talk. I wouldn't want to get involved.” You said, grinning, pulling him by his vest.
He squeezed his eyes shut, relishing in the feeling of having you so close. “Do you think he knows?”
“Of course he knows.”
“How are you so collected?”
“Because I'm not the one he's going to scare to death, apparently.”
“He said ‘we’ need to talk. Emphasizing ‘we’. If he knows you’re here, then it probably—” you cut him off with a kiss.
“Well, then… Are you ready to face your biggest fear? The frightening Aaron Hotchner?”
Glancing at you adoringly, he chuckled. “I’d face him and whoever, whatever, a thousand times, if it meant that I could get you in the end.”
A couple days after the case, you and Spencer meet again, in your apartment. Sitting down on the couch, you ask him, amusedly, “Do you think he noticed?” 
“Totally. I could barely look him in the eye for the first moments,” He said with a fond smile, hiding from you the fact that he had awkwardly and bravely spoken to your dad about your relationship. You laughed, placing your legs on the top of his legs. “I guess we should thank Lila, after all.” He joked, and you laughed out loud. 
Leaning him closer to him, grabbing his chin and looking deep into his eyes, you muttered, “Don’t ever say her name again, Spence.”
Your wish was always his command. It would always be.
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ellecdc · 1 day ago
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I just took my dog for a walk in this god awful weather and I had a thought.
One I have a head cannon that the black brothers have awful circulation due to incest, but besides the fact.
Sirius loves being padfoot in the winter because he gets extra cuddles that being said he will need walked and will whine until he gets taken outside but the second he gets outside he turns around a gives puppy dog eyes. This will go three ways
1.) James will yield and they’ll go back into the house
2.) Remus is firm, this is what you wanted so we’re going on a walk (it’s a short one but still)
3.) Reader is 50/50 on actually following through with walking Padfoot sometimes she will sometimes she won’t
omg okay first of all this thought is hilarious, secondly, it made me think of how my dog does this brilliant thing in the winter that is SO Sirius coded..... so I wanted to write that
Sirius Black x gn!reader who takes Padfoot for a winter walk [431 words]
CW: could be poly!marauders if you wanted? or at the very least poly!wolfstar since Remus was mentioned, but Sirius is the only one present
You could hardly see; your vision reduced to the thin space between the top of your scarf which covered your nose, and your thick woolen hat that fell just below your eyebrows. 
Your hands - donned in the thickest pair of mittens you could find - were also jammed inside the pockets of your very plush winter jacket, making you resemble a marshmallow more than you did a human.
But fair was fair, and if Sirius had to - “freeze my arse off when you dragged him around various Christmas markets-” “you could stand to wear mittens, you know…” you’d tried to argue, only to be met with the very unimpressed look of your boyfriend. “What mittens would ever match my punk rock image, gorgeous?” - then you could freeze your arse doing this.
This being taking your twenty-something-year-old boyfriend on a walk, except your boyfriend was currently a very large, very excited, very goofy black dog bounding through the piled up snow that had been shoveled off of the sidewalks for pedestrians. 
“The things we do for them, eh?” A man bundled up to similar degrees as you commented from across the street whilst his own dog forced him to pause to sniff a pole very thoroughly. 
You let out a slightly nervous laugh. “You can say that again.”
You turned around to see what the bloody hold up was - wishing you’d heeded Remus’ suggestion to ‘put a lead on the bloody beast’ before you left - to notice Padfoot limping towards you rather pathetically, his front right paw raised in the air as he hobbled towards you what could only be described as theatrically on three legs.
“Oh, what is it now?” You muttered under your breath, though you dutifully turned your body to give your pathetic canine-boyfriend your undivided attention.
A pitiful whine escaped the large dog as he sat, holding his paw up further to you; the gathering snow creating small balls of ice between the pads of his toes combined with the street salt clearly aggravating his paws.
“Hm? Sore? Which one?” You cooed, causing the dog to nearly wave his sore paw at you.
You presented the dog your mittened hand, barely offering two gentle squeezes of the offending limb before the dog was reclaiming his paw and happily trotting on ahead of you - snow balls and salted wounds forgotten.
“The drama, am I right?” The guy laughed, waving as his dog finally deigned to carry on a few feet ahead to the next pole for sniffing.
“Sir,” you started around a laugh of your own, “you have no idea.”
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idliketobeatree · 16 hours ago
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i just know for a fact that charles has a tragic, chronic giggler disease in bed. like, yes of course, crying during sex beautiful and true, but have we ever considered him smiling so widely that they literally cannot proceed with anything, because edwin keeps asking him "what made you laugh this time? what is so hilarious?", and charles needs to duck his head because how can he explain that he's incandescently happy and it's not going away. "sorry we can't kiss, i can't control my joy long enough to relax my mouth. oops." and he's like "okay, okay, i got this, for reals this time"; it takes edwin palming both of his cheeks to pull charles in and charles just. grins. again. teeth clinking in the middle. he would be mortified if this was anyone else or if edwin decided that's enough and maybe we should play cluedo instead.
he's doing neither, because edwin's a good person like that. he finds a way to tickle him along the sides so that charles has a reason to have a chuckling fit at least.
and it must have been a complete shock to edwin too. if he dared to imagine it at all, he never would've guessed intimate relations could be so... freeing. that you can laugh yourself to tears and still keep going, that your lover can have such a wonderful time exploring everything unknown about you that he's glowing inside and out. from what he's gathered, sex is supposed to bring a certain level of seriousness and it's like, the exact opposite with charles— frankly, it's just more of charles, everything about him distilled and intensified, his normally warming smiles are blinding now, the way his limbs move thrice as graceful as when he's on a case. you know edwin has a list of favourite charles sounds, and somewhere near the top lands the breathy, unabashedly happy huff which morphs into a quiet moan by the end. he loves it. he'd be lacking without it. edwin is the luckiest ghost on earth, it seems.
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cryptwrites · 2 days ago
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It started as a joke.
A few of us, sitting around a cheap card table in my crumbling apartment, brainstorming ways to pay rent without actually working. The scam was simple: create a fake religion, prey on the gullible, and rake in some easy cash.
We called it The Order of Cythra, a name pulled out of thin air by my roommate, Toby, who thought it sounded “cryptic and legit.” We scribbled down some nonsense about Cythra being the god of renewal and hidden wisdom, created a website, and bought some dollar-store candles for the “rituals.”
At first, it was harmless fun. A few Reddit posts here, some vague TikToks there, and suddenly we had people donating. Not much—just twenty bucks here and there—but enough to cover bills and groceries.
Then things got... strange.
It started with the emails. Testimonials flooded our inbox from people claiming Cythra had spoken to them in dreams. A woman wrote about how her chronic migraines disappeared after chanting one of our made-up prayers. Another claimed their barren garden had suddenly burst into bloom.
We laughed it off at first. Toby even joked that we should hire a PR agent.
But then the dreams started.
It was always the same. I stood in a vast, desolate wasteland beneath a broiling, blood-red sky. A towering figure loomed in the distance, its body shifting between forms—human, deer, shadow. Its voice echoed in my head, not in words, but in feelings: hunger, anger, and something worse.
One night, I woke up to find the word Cythra carved into my arm, not by my own hand but by something else. I confronted Toby and the others, but their faces were pale. They were worried, like I had done something to them.
We tried to shut it down. Deleted the website, pulled down the TikToks, and stopped all donations. But the followers didn’t go away. If anything, they grew more fervent. They showed up at my apartment, chanting in unison, their eyes glassy and strange. They called me High Priest.
Then the first miracle happened.
One of the followers, a man in his sixties, collapsed on my doorstep during one of their late-night vigils. His heart had stopped. I panicked and reached out to him instinctively, yelling for someone to call 911. The moment my hand touched his chest, I felt a searing heat shoot through my arm. His body jolted, and his eyes snapped open.
The followers fell to their knees.
I slammed the door, trembling, my palm still burning. When I looked, there was a black symbol etched into my skin—a sigil I’d never seen before but somehow understood.
Cythra was real.
The days that followed were a blur. The followers proclaimed me as their leader, and no matter how much I tried to resist, they wouldn’t leave me alone. More people came to me for healing, and each time, the sigil on my palm burned brighter. I didn’t know what I was doing, but it always worked. Broken bones knit together. Tumors withered away. One woman even claimed her blind son could see again.
But with every miracle, I felt a piece of myself slipping away.
The dreams became more vivid. Cythra spoke now, its voice a low rumble that made my teeth ache. It demanded more worshippers, more faith, more sacrifices.
One night, I woke to find Toby standing over my bed, a knife in his hand and a vacant look in his eyes. He muttered something about “offering blood to Cythra.” I fought him off, but he slit his own throat before I could stop him. The followers found his body the next morning and cheered.
They said his death would “bring Cythra fully into our world.”
I tried to run. Packed a bag and fled to the nearest bus station. But as soon as I stepped outside, I saw them— hundreds of followers, all chanting in unison, their faces lit by the flickering of candles. The air was thick with the smell of sulfur.
The ground beneath their feet began to crack.
The last thing I remember before everything went black was the sky splitting open, and a monstrous, shifting form descending from the heavens.
Now I sit on a blackened throne in a temple I never built, my body barely my own. The sigil on my palm has spread, covering my arms, chest, and face. I can no longer close my eyes without seeing its form, nor speak without its words spilling from my mouth like black, molded bile.
I am the High Priest of Cythra, a forgotten god reborn through my foolishness.
And I know, deep down, that when it is finished with this world, it will consume me too.
You started a scam religion for a quick buck. You begin to panic when your fake god was actually a real forgotten one awakened from new worshippers, declared you it's high priest, and granted you the power of healing.
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rafeysbangs · 12 hours ago
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ꪆৎ𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖↷ ex!bf!rafe sneaks into your room late at night...
warnings ; MDNI !!, ex!bf!rafe, soft!rafe i guess, oral f. receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, rafe calls reader baby, creampie, aftercare ! yippee
notes ; phew... enjoyyy !
the cool night air swept through your open balcony door, carrying the distant hum of cicadas. you were curled up in bed, trying to focus on the book in your hands, when the faint scrape of shoes against metal made your heart leap.
"rafe?" you whispered harshly, your pulse quickening as his familiar frame hauled itself over the edge of the balcony.
"don’t freak out," he said quickly, holding his hands up as if to calm you. his hair was a mess, his eyes wild, and he looked more desperate than you’d ever seen him.
"are you insane? you can’t be here, especially not at this hour," you hissed, glancing nervously at your door.
but rafe wasn’t listening. he crossed the room in two long strides, his voice cracking as he said, "i had to see you. i can’t- i can’t do this without you."
you folded your arms, trying to stand your ground, even as your chest tightened at the raw edge in his tone. "we broke up, rafe. i broke up with you. and you know why. i can’t keep pretending it doesn’t kill me every time i see you flirting with someone else."
"i wasn’t-" he started, but you cut him off with a sharp look.
"don’t lie to me. i saw you. over and over again. it’s too much, rafe. i couldn’t do it anymore."
his hands raked through his hair, his frustration evident. "it wasn’t what you thought, i swear. i’m... i’m a mess without you, okay? i’ve been losing my mind since you left. no one else matters- no one but you. i’m obsessed with you, and i’ll prove it. i’ll do whatever it takes to make it right."
"rafe," you began, your voice softer now, but he stepped closer, his hands gripping yours like his life depended on it.
"it’ll never happen again. i swear on everything. just... just give me one more chance," he pleaded, his blue eyes locking onto yours, filled with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.
you tried to resist, tried to remind yourself why you ended things, but the way he looked at you, like you were his entire world, made it nearly impossible.
"i don’t know if i can trust you," you said quietly, your voice trembling.
"you can," he said, his voice steady. "i’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if i have to."
before you could argue further, his lips were on yours, cutting off your words in a kiss so desperate, so full of longing, that it left you breathless. your resolve crumbled as his hands cupped your face, pulling you closer.
the kiss deepened, his lips trailing to your jaw and down your neck as your back hit the bed. he hovered over you, his breath hot against your skin as he murmured your name like a prayer.
your fingers tangled in his hair as his lips travelled down your body, heat pooled in your lower stomach watching him grow closer to the waistband of your tiny pyjama shorts.
he stopped there, slowly littering kisses as he looked up at you, you chewed at your bottom lip as your eyes were stuck on his, "rafe..."
"i'll make you feel good baby... don't worry" he whispered against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. his course fingers connected with your clothed pussy, slowly rubbing circles to make you squirm.
he grinned when he saw you twitch at his touch, your clit aching from the lack of direct contact. as if he could read your body, he pulled your shorts to the side, now faced with soaked panties staring back at him.
rafe sighed gratefully, "you're so soaked already, god you're perfect" he mumbled. his long fingers traced your slit and he chuckled a little to himself before pulling your panties to the side too.
without warning, his mouth connected with your wet cunt, sloppy kisses and flicks of his tongue made your eyes roll back before he slid a finger through your folds again. he tapped at your aching hole before sliding a finger in, watching your face contort as you got used to the welcome intrusion.
you groaned, "god-" rafe's smirk perking up against your heat, he came up for air for a second, "rafe's fine baby.."
you threw your head back as he licked a stripe down your pussy, grinning as he slid another finger inside, curling them before mercilessly pumping them in and out.
one thing leads to another, you're bent over the bed, rafe's cock bulging out of your stomach as his hips snap against your ass. a loud whine escapes your lips as he's rearranging your guts. your tight walls clamping desperately around his cock as your ass bounces with every thrust.
his tip brushes your cervix as he thrusts into you a few more times before pulling out and flipping you over mumbling, "need to see your pretty face.."
he shoves your body further onto the bed before climbing over you with his classic smirk. your breathing ragged as your eyes locked with his, he tapped his cock on your pussy before dragging it through your folds. he knew the teasing drove you crazy, your eyebrows cinched together as his ego grew.
a pornographic moan escaped your lips as he slid in again, rolling his hips against yours he pumped his cock at a heavenly pace. your nails left crescent shaped indents as you gripped on rafe's arms, the pleasure sending the both of you into overdrive.
rafe cursed as his thrusts grew sloppy, the way your gummy walls were squeezing him made him dizzy, his release creeping up on him. you too could feel a familiar coil tightening in your stomach, unsurprised at the discovery that rafe was the only one to be able to make you cum, even when you're technically broken up.
he lifts a hand and connects it with one of your tits, his tongue darting between his lips as he massaged the fat, your nipple between his fingers. you whimpered as his cock kissed your cervix before finally you felt the coil snap, your orgasm overpowering you.
the way your pussy clenched rafe's cock as you finished around him caused him to groan gutturally, spilling his release into your sopping hole. he collapsed on top of you, littering your neck and cheeks with kisses as he heavily breathed.
"fuck.. i love you baby" he said finally before getting up and slowly pulling out, his release leaking from you a little. he grinned at the sight and pumped to fingers into your pussy, pushing his cum back inside you. "i'll get us a wet towel" he mumbled, walking towards your bathroom after kissing you on the forehead.
taglist ; @rafegetinmybed @doeletteprincess ( feel free to ask to be added! idm! )
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14dayswithyou · 2 days ago
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I literally have the most amazing and wonderful community in the entire world???? T_T In this essay, I will—
This is going to be raw and unedited because I want to get my initial thoughts out there before I forget n go back to crying /pos, but?? Yawl.... I can't even begin to find the words to express how appreciative and grateful I am for each and every one of you!! ;v;
I've spent the past few hours reading through everyone's personally written messages, then rereading them all again to let it all fully sink in. I'm being genuine when I say that I've never felt this loved or appreciated in any community before in my life.
Those in the Discord server might know about this already, but since the start of this year, I haven't really been enjoying myself (nor have I been as active) in the yandere VN community. There was far too much infighting between devs, parasocial communities, and toxic anons that ruined so much for me — so I withdrew from it all and remained in my own small bubble. Even then, I still got belittled, harassed, doxxed, and even became the target of Tall Poppy Syndrome by others; most of which nearly made me want to leave altogether, but the overflowing amount of support from everyone in the 14DWY community made me want to stay.
And even now, after reading all those heartfelt messages... I think it's permanently solidified the little space I occupy here on the internet :3
So... Yeah, long story short (and a story that will likely end up as its own separate Tumblr post gjskskjd), I wasn't enjoying myself at all in the yandere VN community... but I did have the time of my life in the 14DWY community. And it's all thanks to you guys.
I'm genuinely sooooo proud to have such an endlessly kind, social, and talented community; and I'm glad to have brought such an interactive and friendly group of people together over our shared interest in such a nice concept. 14DWY is essentially a labour of my love — and although I'm ultimately creating it for me and my silly interests — it's still something that I want to make worthy of you guys as well. All the love and support you've shown me and 14DWY motivates me to do my very best, and y'all deserve nothing less. So...
Thank you all for finding a comfort character in my Totally Normal Guy and his Totally Not Eccentric quirks. Thank you for all the insanely talented creations y'all make and share with me. Thank you for sending in your silly (/pos) questions and turning them into inside jokes and AUs for the rest of the community to enjoy. Thank you for talking with me and making this space a genuinely fun place for me to be in again.
From the bottom of my heart; thank you all so much. I really hope everyone has had an amazing year so far, and I hope 2025 will be as kind to you as you all were towards me.
I also want to give a big fat massive huuuuuuuge shout-out to Ashe / @flaneur001 my love (/p) for organising the 14DWY letter event on Discord, and for contributing so much of their time and dedication to the 14DWY community. You say you've only been part of the community for a year, but to me, that was a year well cherished and appreciated. The 14DWY community (and me especially) have all been so lucky to spend this past year with you, and I sincerely hope you've enjoyed it as much as we have. You've done so much for me, the community, and the 14DWY Discord server, so it's only fair that you get the recognition you deserve. So thank you, Ashe!! And a big thank you to everyone in the 14DWY Discord who participated in this event as well!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some cryin and sobbin to do <3 /silly /pos
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adultbabystories · 2 days ago
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“Wait, you succeeded in catching another big baby again?” one guy said to the other, as they both entered the living room.
“Yes. Please keep your voice down, he’s having his nap,” the other said, lowering his voice as he talked, “Now sit”.
Both sat on the couches in front of the diapered grown man. He looked so peaceful, sucking on a giant pacifier, wearing a cozy dino onesie.
“He looks familiar. Isn’t it the guy we all met at the bar about a month ago?” the surprised man said. “Yes, this is him.” said the man. “And in a month you turned him into your baby?”
“Is it slow or fast?” the man said and laughed.
The baby was so calm, that his bladder released, making his crouch warm and soothing.
“It’s fast! Did he roll with it or resisted?” The guy asked. “First of all, no real man would agree to wear a baby-printed diaper and suck on a paci. Even after a month, he could probably take it off by himself, but he wouldn’t. Do you want to know why?” the man asked, wanting to be questioned.
“Why?”
“Because he met mister wooden paddle over my knees. What started as an erotic game for him, turned into my wantings. I wanted a baby, and Mister Paddle made it happen. After a few swats, he dribbled all over my knees, making my wantings into his new reality. He needed diapers. I told him ‘Would a real man pee all over someone’s knees while crying?’ “ the man said and nodded.
The big baby woke up moments before but stayed quiet and motionless. He wanted to listen.
“And now my boy knows I was right. Look at him, look how docile he is, how in peace. When he’ll wake up, you will see him playing under his play gym like the real baby that he is.”
Your Daddy was right. You remember Mister Paddle, you remember how much it was difficult to learn your true place. But now you know, you know your place is next to Daddy’s feet and even his friends. You find comfort in diapers and baby stuff, you can relax and be your true self.
Your diaper felt so good, you pressed the front into the matt, and the sensation was incredible. You kept on going, back and forth, slowly, thinking it was unnoticeable while keeping your eyes closed, still listening to the talking men. Unconsciously, making small baby grants.
“I think your baby woke up,” the guy said.
“Shhhh, if he keeps his eyes closed, he thinks we won’t see him. By the sound he’s making, I already know he enjoys his little pecker in his diaper. Let him have it, he’ll squirt into his padding then I’ll change him.” said Daddy, knowing his new son already. 
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Did it take @alittlerobotkid a month to turn into a baby, or was he always one?
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