#honestly feel like this is the best i could have ever done so

[munsonsmixtapes]

hii i love your writing soo much your so talented!! could you write eddie and reader fake dating (their both best friends btw) and their doing this because it was eddie’s idea to make chrissy jealous but secretly the reader is in love with eddie and when eddie finally gets with chrissy the reader distance her self from eddie and eddie realizes that chrissy’s not what he expected and at the end eddie and reader gets together it’s a bit long sorryyy thank youuu🫶🫶🫶🫶

cw: hurt/comfort

You won't lie, you've been crushing on Eddie since long before you even became friends. So when he suggests that the two of you fake date, you jump at the chance, because if you can't actually date him at least, you'll know what it's like.

He's doing it to get Chrissy's attention and you can't even be mad at him because Chrissy is sweet and pretty and you unfortunately totally understand the appeal. And the worse part of it all, you think, is that they would actually look so cute together.

You always see them giggling in the hall and you don't even know why Eddie needs you. You wish he would leave you out of it, but you agree because he's your best friend and you're madly in love with him. You'll do anything for him and you're surprised that he doesn't ever use that to advantage. That man has you wrapped around his finger and he's so totally oblivious to it.

The whole thing is pathetic, actually. Because after the whole arrangement is over, Eddie will hopefully have a girlfriend, but what do you get? The satisfactory of a job well done? That doesn't exactly seem fair to you, but you suppose it's what you deserve for being a coward and not telling Eddie how felt when you had a chance.

"Act like you love me. She's coming," Eddie commands, pulling you out of your thoughts. Little does he know that you're not acting.

He grabs hold of your waist and pulls you closer to him, whispering compliments to you as he plays with your hair. And you hate how much you're eating it up because absolutely none of it real. You think he should be an actor because the way he's speaking sounds so genuine that you almost believed him at first.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Chrissy approaching the two of you, her signature bright smile on her face and Eddie's totally going to blow the whole thing because of how obvious he is. The way he looks at her as if she's hung the moon is borderline pathetic.

"Hey guys," she greets and you turn to her, not even having to fake your smile because you actually genuinely like Chrissy. She's nothing but a sweetheart and she's one of the few girls at school that you would consider one of your friends.

"Hey," you smile back.

"I'm having a party tomorrow night and I was wondering if you guys wanted to come," she says and you have to be the one to reply since Eddie seems to be hypnotized by the girl.

"We'll be there," you tell her and her smile brightens.

"Perfect," she nods and then heads down the hallway. As soon as she's out of earshot, you turn to Eddie, smacking him on the shoulder.

"Ow," he winces, turning to glare at you. "What was that for?"

"Could you be any more obvious? I swore I could see you drooling."

"I wasn't drooling," his eyes narrow even more.

"Well you might as well have been. Come over tonight because clearly we have a lot to practice." Eddie rolls his eyes but agrees, especially because he always ends up at your house almost every night anyway.

You pace back and forth in your room, feeling nervous to see Eddie for the first time in your life. You can't believe you actually suggested that you practice. You don't exactly know what you meant but that, but all you cant think about now is roleplaying being a couple and that makes you anxious for some reason.

The door to your room opens and there Eddie is, looking like he walked straight out of your dreams and you honestly can't seem to pull your eyes from him. You hope that he doesn't notice, but also know Eddie's always so caught up in his own head that he doesn't notice little things like that.

"So," he sighs as he sits down on your bed and you hate how you're imagining yourself straddling his laps, kissing him stupid, only stopping so you both can catch your breath before going in for more. You know it won't happen, but a girl can dream.

You sit next to him and even though you've sat this close more times than you can count, your heart is suddenly pounding in your chest and you really hope that Eddie can't hear it.

"What did you want to practice?" He asks and you wonder when his face got so close to yours. You can see every single detail on his face, those damn Bambi eyes and his pretty lashes that he can bat and get you to do anything he asks. His pretty, pink lips that you so desperately want to kiss. His hair that you're itching to run your fingers through.

"Let's roleplay," you reply, thinking on the spot since you didn't actually plan anything out and were just pulling things out of your ass.

"Roleplay?" He asks then a smirk plays on his lips. "Kinky, I like it," he winks and you feel your face flush. He always knows what to say to embarrass you and you hate it.

"Shut up," you shove his shoulder. "You know that's not what I mean."

"Relax, babe. I'm not kink shaming if that's what you're thinking."

"Can you be serious for once in your life?"

"Sorry, sorry," he apologizes as his face softens. "I was just trying to lighten the mood since you seem so tense. What's got you so worked up?"

You, you want to tell him. You're so close to laying it all out on the table and tell him the truth. That thinking about him being with Chrissy is breaking your heart and that you're the one he should be with. But you know you have no right to tell him who he should or shouldn't date, so you stay quiet.

Eddie can see that you're staring at his lips and he just smiles at you, finally catching onto why you invited him over. He's surprised he didn't see it sooner. He kind of feels like an idiot for not catching on as quickly as he should have.

"I see what this is about," he smirks knowingly and he can't help but chuckle when he sees your eyes bug out.

"You do?" You ask with a gulp and he doesn't know why you're so nervous. It's just a kiss and nothing else.

"Of course." He's laughing now and you want the floor to swallow you whole. "You think we should practice kissing."

That's not at all what you had in mind, but there's no way you can tell him he was wrong. And you're also not going to miss an opportunity to kiss him.

"And I agree," he nods, leaning even closer, this closest he's ever been to you that doesn't include cuddling.

He slowly reaches up to cup your cheek, gently rubbing along it with his thumb as his eyes bore into yours. Your heart pounds in your chest as you lean closer to him. your eyes fluttering closed as you do so.

"Tell if I do something you don't like," he says softly and you almost shiver as you feel his breath fan across your lips. All you can do is nod and you feel him keep your head steady as he cradles your head in his hands.

Eddie's lips capture yours and your hands rest on his thighs, scooting closer to him as your brain short circuits. You can't believe that this is happening, and the thing is, you don't even care if it's not real. You're just so caught up in him that it doesn't even matter.

He pulls away before you're ready and you can't help but stare down at his kiss bitten lips, deciding that you could do that for hours and never get bored of how his hands and mouth are so gentle with you.

But you want him to be a little more rough. You want him to stick his tongue into your mouth, to nip at your bottom lip, to give you a hickey that's damn near impossible to cover up with make up.

Eddie wants to stop there before he gets carried away, but he can see how hungry you are for more. You look like you want to devour him and who's he to tell you no?

"I think we should practice a little more," he says and you're nodding enthusiastically.

"I agree," you continue to nod and Eddie smiles as he leans in again, more rough this time and he can't help but notice how your fingers are digging into his skin through his jeans.

His hands move to your neck and his thumbs rest on your jaw, tilting your head back as he licks into your mouth, his tongue tangling with yours and in one swift motion, he moves you so that you're straddling his waist. Your hands are in his hair and if it goes any farther, you'll be at the point of no return.

Eddie's hand move down to your waist and slowly travel up your shirt, but they stop, resting on the small of your back, deciding not to go any higher even though he really wants to. He has to remind himself that it's just kissing and nothing more.

You both pull away when you're out of breath and in that moment, Eddie's not thinking about Chrissy at all. He's thinking about you and how pretty and sweet you are. And how he wants to spend the rest of the night right there, kissing you until the early hours of the morning then cuddling in your bed, fully intending on staying there for the rest of the day watching cartoons and kissing even more because now he's addicted to the feeling of your lips on his.

"I could do that for hours," he tells you, his pupils blown. His hands are out from under your shirt and they're rubbing up and down your back so gently.

He has to know what he's doing to you, right? How he's hurting you because you think you've been so obvious about your feelings for him and now it feels like he's toying with you. But you know Eddie would never do that and it's clear that he has no idea how much you're in love with him because he's oblivious to everything in that department.

He’s looking at you like you look at him and Eddie doesn’t know what he’s feeling but it’s odd. He thinks he’s starting to see you as more than a friend, which was honestly a long time coming. He thinks he’s always been in love with you but was too scared to admit it to himself because one, you’re his best friend, and also because he’s not used to people reciprocating his feelings so he doesn’t think there’s a point in telling you the truth. 

He wants to run, but he stays and you let him wear a t-shirt that he’s left there and the two of you go to bed wrapped up in each other’s arms, talking about everything and nothing until you eventually fall asleep, the two of you knowing that your friendship is never going to be the same. 

“How do I look?” You ask as you emerge from the bathroom. You’re wearing a black party dress and as soon as Eddie sees you, he swears that he’s died and gone to heaven. But if he’s being honest, he doesn’t even want to go to the party anymore. He just wants to stay there and maybe kiss you some more. Okay, definitely kiss you some more. But you seem so excited so he’s going to go just for you.

“You look-” he cuts himself, trying to come up with what adjective he wants to use. “Fucking amazing,” he decides on as he takes you by the hands, pulling you to him as he presses a kiss to your lips. 

“Eddie,” you say as you pull away. “There’s no one around so you don’t have to pretend.”

“Who says I’m pretending?” He smiles, pulling you in for another kiss before he lets go of you so you can finish getting ready. He doesn’t even know if he’s interested in Chrissy anymore, but he’s trying to convince himself that he is because it’s easier that way. If the two of you were to get together and then break up, he doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost you. You’re the most important person in his life and he wants you to stay in it forever. 

So the two of you show up to the party hand in hand, making sure to be all flirty around Chrissy. You still don’t know why you’re doing this. Why couldn't he just ask her out instead of talking you into this elaborate scheme? It’s not only unfair to Chrissy, it’s also unfair to you. It doesn’t even seem to be working as she flirts with Jason over by the punch table. 

Everything shifts, though, when Chrissy announces that it’s time to play “Spin the Bottle”. Your stomach churns as Eddie pulls you over, forcing you to sit right next to him even if it means that he probably won’t get to kiss you. He wants to keep you by his side the entire night, not wanting to let you out of his sight. 

You feel so sick as the game starts and it’s Eddie’s turn to spin the bottle. You almost don’t want to watch, but you can’t draw attention to yourself so you watch the bottle spin round and round. It seems that the universe has a sick sense of humor because it lands on Chrissy. Of fucking course. Eddie crawls over to her and you can see them whispering about something, smiling at each other before they both go in for a kiss. 

You don’t stay and watch, physically unable to as you rise to your feet, hurrying to the bathroom because there’s no way you can be there anymore. You tried to be happy for Eddie, you really did. And you hate yourself for feeling so hurt and betrayed because all of it was fake and Eddie still has no idea that you’re in love with him. 

So you lock the door and sink to the floor, leaning against the tub as you bring your knees to your chest, crying into them, thankful that the loud music is drowning out your sobs. There’s a knock on the door before whoever is on the other side wiggles the door knob. God, could this night get any worse? 

“It’s occupied,” you say through sobs but your ears perk up at the familiar voice. 

“Baby, it’s me. Can you open up?” It’s Eddie. Why’s he at the door? You figured he’d be making out with Chrissy somewhere. You ignore him, not wanting him to see you like that and bury your face back into your knees, more sobs raking through you. 

“Honey?” He asks, his voice nothing but soft as he knocks on the door lightly. You get on your knees to unlock the door then turn away, not wanting him to see how horrible you probably look. But he gets on his knees in front of you anyway, his smile falling as he sees the mascara tears dried on your cheeks. “Oh, baby,” is all he says, so much sympathy in his voice as he reaches up and wipes away makeup from your face.”What’s with the tears, hm?” He asks, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across your cheeks. 

“It’s nothing. It’s…stupid.”

“If you’re upset about it, then it’s not stupid.” 

Eddie being so nice to you is making it really hard to be mad at him. You want to, but you can’t. And you know that you have no real right to be mad at him anyway. He has every right to be with Chrissy and you just have to be okay with that.

“Why are you even here? You got Chrissy so why aren’t you with her? That was the whole point of this whole thing, right?”

“It was,” he nods. “But last night made me realize something.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“It made me realize that you’re the only one I want to kiss.” 

You freeze as soon as the words leave his mouth. There’s no way you heard that right. Your mind is just playing tricks on you. It has to be. 

“But-” you try to argue, but you just end up furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. 

“I know it doesn’t make sense,” he chuckles. “But I think I’ve always been in love with you and I was just so scared of losing you that I didn’t want to pursue it. What you saw was Chrissy and I just playing the game.”

“Then what did you say to her before? I saw you whispering.”

“She told me not to screw things up with you. Someone told her about you and I fake dating in order to get her attention and she said that she was flattered. And that was when I realized that I didn’t want her anymore. All I could think about was you. And she’s with Jason now so it’s not like it matters anyway.”

This all feels like a surreal dream, but you can feel Eddie’s hands on your cheeks so there’s no way that it can be. It’s real. It’s what you’ve been wanting for so long and now you have it. All you have to do is tell him you feel the same way and that will be that. 

“Because I love you, y/n. I want you and only you. I’m…I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

“You love me?” You ask, your mind still not grasping what’s going on. 

“More than you’ll ever know, baby,” he says as he goes in for a kiss, pulling you into his lap as his arms wrap around you so tight as he doesn’t plan on letting you go. You’re his now and you will continue to be until you take your last breaths. And that’s exactly how you want it.

[eloquentlytired]

odysseus. sfw.

logan howlett x fem goddess reader

note: this is basically a circe x odysseus!au but also not moving according to the actual story. I've alternated the ending too. I've always wanted to write logan in such a theme/au so I'm happy that I did. it's short but still feeling satisfied. I also blame Madeline Miller for her amazing writing, just finished reading circe and I cried AGAIN. first tsoa and now circe.

warnings 4 this ?? bittersweet, hurt to comfort, reader is just a girl that's thousands of centuries old, logan is a worn out warrior, he'll never introduce himself in the story btw

“I heard my men came this way, my goddess. I mean no harm or to intrude but to only ask your assistance to find them.” His voice was soothing but raspy. His shoulders sunburned but prideful. Age was evidently catching up to him but he remained as handsome as other mortal men you'd witnessed before, although not plenty. You wondered if he would be any different but then you remembered the nature of all men before him and you mentally shook your head. He was just another pig to be.

You welcomed him to your home and offered him the best hospitality like you did to all of your guests. He ate as he spoke to you about a distant home he was missing, then his wife, and for a while you wondered if having a wife would make him less of a monster. But the men before him surely would have wives too, or loved ones, and if not most of them then some of them. Yet they had still been pigs.

He could sense your hesitation and you could sense his. At some point you noticed that he had not touched his wine — clever man he was. It was the wine that would cause him harm and he somehow knew. He kept twisting the full goblet in his hand without ever drinking from it, his mouth occupied by mere words of his trips and his suffering.

“You have not touched your wine.” You told him and his eyes glinted as he looked at you. He definitely knew.

“My goddess, if you'd allow me to speak honestly.” He said and you offered him a firm nod. You were fearless and he clearly liked that by the way he smiled at you. “My men. You have done something to them,isn't that right?”

A sly smile adored your features and to your surprise his own never disappeared.

“I let them in,fed them and cared for them. Yet they wished to steal from me.” You responded while circling him like a predator. That's what you were — and those stupid men were your prey.

“I have spoiled them. They're all idiots whose judgement has been clouded by the endless war.” The handsome man explained as he stroked his beard, his eyes following your every move. He turned with you as you circled him; as if this was a game. Perhaps it was.

“They are idiots and to that we may agree.” His smile grew at your words and he tilted his head slightly.

“I don't wish to fight you, my goddess. I see no reason to. Do you?” His goblet remained in his hand, untouched and filled to the brim. Despite him toying around with it, the wine never spilled from the cup.

“You knew about the wine.” You suddenly told him.

“And you know about the flower.” He shot back and the two of you exchanged glances longer than any season of time. Your face beamed with energy and warmth while your eyes moved like a prying serpent. His, on the other hand, were cautious but delightful to look at.

“Hermes gave it to you, did he not? And yet you haven't used it against me.” The man's next actions surprised you as he grabbed his satchel and threw it on the stoned floor. The roots of the flower, which was meant to go against you, were visible within the satchel.

You stared at the stranger in disbelief but he smiled again. Almost laughed.

“Like I said, respectful goddess, I see no reason to fight you. It's just not within reason to do so.” His words surprised you even more, how smooth of a talker he was but also how intelligent. Bards would die for this type of inspiration while others would sacrifice whatever for even half of his sentence’s worth. “My men are stupid but they mean no harm. The Trojan war has corrupted their minds but also I, their captain, have failed to properly teach them manners. They're young.” He took a step forward but you didn't cower. He appreciated that.

“Get to your point, mortal.” You said while raising your chin with pride, challenging him with your gaze.

He grinned and his teeth showed. “All I ask is to get my men back. In return, I will offer whatever I can to you.”

You thought about the events unfolded ever since your birth. How little you knew for your age; so old you'd forgotten it yourself. You were the daughter of a Titan, not newborn divinity. You knew what mistakes were better than anyone and you had learned, one way or another, to distinguish good from bad. This man was neither.

And then the agreement was made.

His men were back to their original humane forms and dined happily downstairs, finally at ease. You let them for the sake of the man that had charmed you with his words and brains.

“Our agreement.” That familiar raspy voice called out to you and you turned around, staring at his form on the doorway. He was leaning against it like he'd been here before but it didn't insult you.

He approached you slowly, one step after the other. His face hovered closely over yours as he spoke again. “One kiss.” The man repeated what you'd requested of him that night but before he could complete his pay, you stopped him.

He froze upon feeling your fingers upon his lips and his eyes stared at you — more worried than feared.

“I changed my mind.” You whispered as your fingers caressed his lips, chapped and rough. The man remained still as he listened. “I ,once, turned a girl into a monster for supposedly taking away a man I loved. I don't want to do the action which I punished someone for.”

The man nodded then smiled. “I have not met a woman wiser than you,my lady.”

His words brought a smile to your face, one that wasn't sly or contained hidden meanings. It was simply an act of delight.

“All this just to see her?” You couldn't help but ask, referring to his wife.

“Yes.” He answered with pride, and most importantly love, in his eyes. You dragged your fingers from his lips to his cheek and he leaned into your touch willingly.

“I don't know what that's like. To have a husband that actually loves you. All the men around me were never good to their wives.” You told him and something swirled in his orbs — rage.

“Then they were fools.” He whispered. “Even bigger fools for not treasuring you.”

You buried your face into his neck and he let you. His touch was warm and gentle, one arm hugging your waist while the other cradled the back of your head. The touch was so careful, almost fatherly, and you could not remember the last time someone had treated you so gently. So kindly.

You cried in his arms as he held you until the moonlight shed its final moments.

“I will need a few days to fix our ship—”

“Stay.” You cut him off. “As long as you need."

He nodded while tightening his arms around your smaller frame, his large hand still cradling the back of your head as if trying to ease the thoughts that weighed it down.

No matter what, you would help him and the others get home.

[extremely-judgemental]

This is the last time I talk about Elain (hopefully!). I honestly don’t understand where you’re getting the idea that she is sweet. Elain is polite, like ‘my neighbour is nice to me’ sort of way. That doesn’t warrant how everyone puts her on a pedestal.

Her actions are mostly glossed over as self-preservation, but that doesn’t seem right to describe her behaviour either. At least, not in a sympathetic way. I'm sure there’s going to be an overload of trauma to justify this, because how can SJM’s heroines have mere mediocre problems when they can be abused or have lost a loved one?

I digress. Ever since Nesta’s grooming came to light, the same is assumed about Elain—that she’s groomed to be ‘nice’. That’s not entirely true. Their mother and grandmother focus on Nesta because getting the eldest married well will bring more prospects for the other two. In their mother’s words, Elain needn’t worry because she is a born beauty, and so she is not trained in courtliness or politics. And, Feyre has enough liberty to lock herself in their father’s office. As a middle child, Elain chooses the ‘nice’ mask because it’s what gets her attention in a family full of stubborn heads—her mother, her grandmother, her sisters.

During their poverty years, even if she could do chores, it’s hard to believe Nesta let her given how much she coddles Elain. And, Feyre treats her like a fragile doll. Elain essentially enjoys the best of both worlds like her father without contributing much to the family. She benefits heavily from her sisters’ animosity against each other—she’s the kind one while the other is the bitch. She’s also quick to secure a marriage alliance right after they regain their wealth. This isn’t to say it wasn’t out of love, but the plot is set in somewhat medieval times, where the order in which the sisters marry is crucial—Elain already wed before the eldest leaves a mark on Nesta’s reputation, making it difficult for her to find suitors.

Elain goes her entire life without being blamed or hated by her family, or even the IC. To have gone through all those struggles, having done literally nothing, and still cherished by everyone? Kindness doesn’t buy you that kind of a pass. It’s not her fault that everyone puts her first, but it’s the result of the image she actively cultivates to achieve her means.

This is why the paintbrushes don’t hold much value either. She doesn’t make Feyre’s life easier or take away some of the burdens, but gives her presents and everything is okay between them? This comes off like love-bombing to me—making Feyre feel special so that Elain isn’t the villain. Which worked, as Nesta is the one called ungrateful. When you’re struggling and someone offers you a bit of joy and relief, it is impactful, and Elain’s gesture could have been that if she had contributed to the family. But now, it comes off as manipulation.

And here’s my issue with her betrayal in Silver Flames. No one gives two fucks about what she thinks is best for Nesta. The IC won’t sit around and wait till she’s convinced. If she decides to lock herself in her room and cry again, only Feyre might care a little. Until then, she’s never included in any major decisions and she’s too perceptive to not notice this. She doesn’t even have to side with Nesta, but to pack her things to send her away?

She even goes on to throw in a ‘you don’t have to be miserable’ when Nesta is being imprisoned with a man. Imagine Elain trapped with Lucien to get her out of her funk. Feyre violated Lucien’s mind when he asked for a few minutes alone with her. They were chaperoned by the entire family for one simple tea. Clearly, Elain is not so stupid as to not know what she’s implying. She lets Nesta suffer not out of self-preservation but because she, like Feyre, believes Nesta is hopeless.

Later, she manipulates Nesta into scrying and insults her in front of everyone who hates her. She blames her ‘invisibility’—she crafted for herself—on others. It isn’t about her owning her life, because she could have done the scrying right away without that conversation with Nesta. And it’s not about protecting herself from the IC. Her outburst felt more like her resentment, that she couldn’t handle losing her shield.

There are many who want Elain to stand up to the IC, but the thing is, she has no reason to. When none of her actions are held against her, what would she fight for? The IC’s behaviour is borderline psychotic with Nesta to prove she wouldn’t be welcomed into the family unless she becomes reputable enough to be Feyre’s sister and Cassian’s mate. In Elain’s case, she is already forgiven and accepted.

Though it still falls under the broad term, her self-preservation carries heavy undertones of selfishness and manipulation. It is not even a survival response triggered under pressure. Most of her life, Elain never has to make big choices. She always gets what she wants without lifting a finger. No responsibility at home, more attention from family, the only one to receive her father’s love, her engagement to Graysen, going to Graysen for help, being left alone during the battles, having her own gardens in Velaris, learning to cook, leading a simple life, to be away from Lucien, pursuing Azriel. When exactly is she ever denied in the first place to preserve her happiness?

Also, Elain is definitely not a helpless doe. She is an opportunist. Her ‘kindness’ is a mask to escape scrutiny from others when she neglects her responsibilities. It serves her too since ‘Elain is Elain’.

And that’s fine because these flaws add layers to her character and there’s room for growth. But when the narrative ignores them and paints her as an angel because it supports the glorified hero, that is wrong. We see it happen with Feyre, Rhysand, and the Inner Circle. Elain is underdeveloped, yet she shows prominent traits at major plot points and still is considered ‘sweet’. At this rate, she’s just going to be another bland cutout who can never do anything wrong and is universally loved (like Feyre).

On the other hand, all this masking, the cunning, and the pettiness are great agents for her obvious future bonding with Rhysand who is quite similar. But her true nature has to be acknowledged first, which is clearly not happening in the narrative or the fandom.

There are obvious issues to be resolved in Elain’s character—shedding these traits and loving others without exploitation—but the focus will be on what SJM deems worthy for her plot. Elain went from being content to staying in the background, tending to her gardens, and creating beauty to wanting to step out of her sisters’ shadows. Though she never gave that vibe, it will be shoved down our throats because these leads need to be badasses. At this point, she has more chances of turning into another Feyre with her ‘coming out of the shell’ journey because that’s the only way women can grow in this series. I don’t like Elain the way I don’t like Feyre, Rhysand, or Cassian. She is, and will likely never be, held accountable for anything she does. Nesta has self-awareness, her flaws are portrayed as such, and she makes amends for her mistakes because that allows Feyre to be right again. But what reason does Elain have to be better when she hasn’t done anything wrong until now?

[writingtraumaforever]

Juno: Chapter 1

Notes: Warning: I have literally never been to a concert in my life, so i'm bullshitting all of this. This was inspired by the Sonic Twitter Takeover where Shadow revealed his next concert he and Amy would be attending was Sabrina Carpenter- which are notoriously sexual in nature. My curious ass just loved the idea of exploring how Shadow may act at such an event, and here we are. Absolute crack with fluff.. and a bit of.. ahem. sex.

Summary: Sonic attends a Sabrina Carpenter concert with friends on Amy's birthday.. and a few surprise guests.

Rating: Explicit (suggestive and sexual content)

Chapter Select:

Link to my AO3!

Start:

Sabrina Carpenter was definitely not on Sonic’s Spotify Wrapped Playlist. The only songs he’s really heard of hers are the ones that have inevitably gone viral on all those social media platforms. Feather. Please Please Please. Nonsense. Espresso– okay, Nonsense might be on his playlist. But that one is just catchy, okay!? Couldn’t be helped.

It’s not that he doesn’t like the singer. He has nothing against her! She’s just.. Feminine. Like. Hyper feminine. And while Sonic likes to say he’s in touch with his feminine side, saying he’s comfortable blasting Sabrina Carpenter and Taylor Swift in public is a bit of a stretch. He has an image to uphold after all! If Eggman sees him all over the news bopping to You Belong With Me then how would he ever be intimidated by Sonic ever again???

All this to say.. He was attending one of her concerts. Not by choice! It was Amy’s birthday. And while he wasn’t keen on going to a concert of some short blonde human strutting around singing about coffee and birds, he cared about Amy. She was one of his closest friends! And if the one thing she asked for for her birthday was for everyone to attend a concert she was extremely excited about with her then so be it! Sonic could suck it up for a night and be there for his best girl.

Amy honestly hadn’t seemed to have expected Sonic to say yes, so when he did, she jumped into action and bought the necessities. She had arrived early to his house along with Knuckles to “prepare them for the night”. Preparation apparently meant fluffing Sonic’s chest fur into the shape of a heart rather than it being trimmed and combed down as usual, decorating a pink cowboy hat for Knuckles to wear. When Sonic asked why Cream and Tails weren’t coming along, Amy answered with a simple, “Not age appropriate,” and nothing more.

How explicit could coffee and feathers get??

Sonic didn’t question it. In fact, he’d rather go into this knowing as little as possible.

After Amy added some sequins around their eyes for extra glam and did her own makeup, they left for the concert! Amy was dressed in a hot pink dress of some sort that had kiss marks bedazzled all over it and a heart cut out over her chest in a peek-a-boo sort of style. Her bangs were curled in a very specific way, and her quills looked more voluminous than usual. She was stunning! And both Sonic and Knuckles told her so. While this was definitely neither of them’s cup of tea, they’d do anything for the heart of their group with no complaints. And that was absolutely Amy Rose. She’s done more than enough for all of them.

They were perfect gentlemen, opening the door to the front of Sonic’s car, the Speed Star, for her to climb into, Knuckles sitting in the back. They didn’t wanna ruin their stylish looks with walking or running to the place, opting for the rare but convenient choice of driving somewhere for once. 

Once they arrived, they paid for parking and climbed out. Sonic kept his head down for the most part as to not be seen– not for the sake of embarrassment, but for the sake of not drawing too much attention. It was Amy’s night, after all. 

As Sonic looked around and took in the overwhelming crowd of girls at this venue, though, he couldn’t help but honestly feel bad Amy didn’t have more girl friends her age. He supposes her position in Team Sonic has taken up most of her social life, spending her time in their close-knit group rather than branching out more. Which is a damn shame, honestly, because she was a great gal! Super sweet, easy to talk to, unconditionally loyal, and so, so caring. Most girls would kill for a friend like that! But Amy never quite fit in with most girls, it seemed. Always intimidating a lot of them with how confident she was or how outspoken she could be.

That along with the company she kept, Sonic supposes it just drove most people away.

All that to be said, Sonic and Knuckles did have a surprise guest coming to meet up with them for Amy..

He kept his pink counterpart close in the wave of Sabrina Carpenter fans, quickly taking note it would be easy to lose her in the crowd with how much pink there was. She should’ve worn a different color, damnit. Her arm stayed looped around his, bouncing up and down giddy with excitement as they inched closer to the front of the line to get in.

“Oh, this is so exciting! I have been watching videos of this concert for weeks! Thank you guys so much again for getting the tickets!” She beams, grabbing Knuckles now as well and yanking him in for a tight, group hug. Both the boys groan at the squeeze, chuckling with wide grins. “No problem, Ames,” Sonic shrugs off as he’s let go, “Your excitement is more than enough to make it worth it.” “Yeah, and plus it’s your birthday!” Knuckles adds, playfully punching the pink hedgehog in the shoulder, “Can’t let our girl down on her birthday!”

Amy just smiles wide at this, stars in her eyes and blissful with anticipation.

“You guys are just the best,” she beams, both boys bashfully blushing at this. Sonic rubbing under his nose with a little smirk and Knuckles rubbing the back of his neck with a wink.

They eventually get inside the venue, finding their seats and taking in the place. It was massive. Sonic seriously underestimated how big a deal this chick was. That being said, there were three spots left open near them, so maybe it didn’t sell out?? 

One was for their surprise guest, though. Whom which was now walking up.

“Hey guys!”

All their heads turned to the familiar voice, finding none other than Sticks the Badger making her way over wearing a her typical tube top but paring it with a taupe-pink skirt instead. Sonic silently appreciates the tom-boy’s effort. 

Amy absolutely loses her mind, doing one of those squeals only possible for a female to perform. It was nearly at a pitch only dogs could hear, he swears–

“Sticks! Oh my Chaos, what are you doing here?!” She jumps up, wrapping her arms around her friend once she’s close enough and having the gesture returned. Sonic and Knuckles fist bump behind them proudly.

“Couldn’t miss my best friend’s birthday! Even if it is at a concert that will most likely end in us all being hypnotized by subliminal messages in the music..”

Classic Sticks.

“Oh my gosh–you came so far all for me???” Amy giggles excitedly, pulling back to look at her friend better. “Yeah! Of course, I had the help of our boys,” the badger winks, gesturing to the two who are still sitting in their seats looking up at the reunion.

“Hey Sticks.” “Long time, no see.” “Hey fellas.”

Amy’s lip wobbles and crimps up, little sniffles coming from her as she fans herself with a tearful, “You guuuuuyyyss…”

Sonic chuckles and shakes his head at her, “Don’t cry!” “Your makeup!” Knuckles adds with a little laugh. “I know! I know,” she takes a deep breath then huffs it out, “Gotta pull it together. For the glam.” “For the glam,” Sonic and Knuckles unanimously agree.

Sticks joins the three, and they all chat amongst themselves over what’s been going on in their lives since last they saw one another. Amy and Sticks have a lot of long overdue girl talk as well, leaving Knuckles and Sonic to talk about not girly things.

Like girls.

“So how’s it been, Knucks?? Still too committed to a rock to get a girl one?” Sonic teases with a little smirk.

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” Knuckles grunts with a roll of his eyes, “You can’t exactly be preaching to me about commitment either, Sonic.”

“Me?? I’m committed to the wind in my quills and the ground pounding beneath my feet, buddy. That’s the best commitment there is!”

Knuckles huffs in an amused sort of way, “Sure. Until you’re precious feet are old and wrinkled and alone.”

“I’ve got plenty of friends to keep me company,” Sonic shrugs, brushing it off with a wave, “Anyway, enough about me. We were talking about you. How’re things going with—“

“Don’t even mention her,” Knuckles groans immediately, “She’s confusing and infuriating. And batty.”

“Well. That is her species,” Sonic remarks with a smirk.

“Whatever, man. I’m just glad to have a night away from her pestering me. Kinda shocked Amy didn’t invite her—“

“Hey boys, the fun has arrived!”

Knuckles’ eyes widen, a mortified look developing on his face as he stares at Sonic, “Don’t tell me..”

“Uhh. Yup,” Sonic grins with invisible devil horns growing from his quills.

Knuckles turns and Sonic leans over to see properly as well. And sure as hell, there’s Rouge the bat looking fine as ever.

She on theme as well, dressed in a red mini-skirt that sparkles like every other girl’s there along with a matching crop top that has a heart cut out over her cleavage— an ongoing trend Sonic is noticing at this concert. Must be a Sabrina Carpenter thing. She has red sparkling high heel boots to match, the tips of her wings covered in bedazzled kiss prints and her makeup done up all spiffy as well.

Behind her, though, is the real surprise.

Shadow the Hedgehog.

Amy is immediately squealing again, moving to hug Rouge all excited and bouncy— the girl has so much energy. And that’s coming from Sonic.

“You finally made it!” she giggles, now prompting both Sonic and Knuckles to realize the two empty seats were ones for Amy’s own invited guests. Two they didn’t at all expect.

“Of course, we made it! You think we’re gonna leave the birthday girl hangin’???” Rouge grins, pressing a kiss to Amy’s cheek and leaving a bright red kiss mark there. No one bothers to point it out. It looks pretty on theme for the concert thus far anyway.

Speaking of theme, Shadow is… not on it. He’s wearing his typical leather jacket with some baggy dark denim jeans and his typical air shoes. Clothes, Sonic notes. Dude must get gussied up when he gets out. Under his jacket is a shirt that reads ‘Jesus was a Carpenter’. Which just adds to Sonic’s confusion, honestly.

But he does sport red glitter where the red cat-eye like stripes over his eyes are. Which makes his eyes look like they sparkle.. not that Sonic noticed.

He’s carrying a bunch of drinks and snacks in his arms— which is honestly a really smart idea, Sonic notes. He’s feeling snacky. Shadow is taking in the venue, looking around with a content sort of look on his face which honestly surprises Sonic. He isn’t typically one for crowded places, always seems antsy and ready to leave. Here he seems.. chill.

His eyes only move back to the group when it’s his turn to greet Amy, further surprising the blue hero with how he immediately opens his arms for her to hug him and hugs her right back with a-..

Is that a smile???

“Happy birthday, Rose,” the hybrid mumbles against Amy’s head, placing an affectionate kiss on the top of it and sending Sonic for a damn loop.

What was going on????

“Uh.. have I crossed over into another dimension or something??” he leans over, muttering to Knuckles who is also staring with obvious shock at the entire interaction.

“I wish you’d take me with you if you have, because it’s gettin’ real weird over here..,” the echidna mutters back. 

Rouge’s eyes move around Amy as her and Shadow catch up, spotting Knuckles on the other side of the birthday girl and Sticks. She immediately smirks and offers him a teasing wave with a wink.

Knuckles goes rigid, blushing as he slowly offers a tiny wave in return with an awkward and messy looking grin on his muzzle.

Sonic raises an eyebrow at this, “Thought you couldn’t stand her??”

“I’m sitting, aren’t I??”

Rouge scoots past Sticks and Amy, Sonic watching as Shadow and Amy keep talking— why are they still talking??

Sonic’s eyes shift to the bat, though, as she bends down directly in front of Sonic- the poor blue lad getting a face full of bat boob through her peek-a-boo hole. His eyes very purposely do not look down there, staying locked on her own turquoise eyes as she offers him a flirtatious little grin and points at his seat, “Mind if I steal your spot?”

“Uhhh..,” his eyes glance to Knuckles in the corner of his eyes, seeing the red echidna very subtly shaking his head. So there’s really only one answer Sonic can give.

“Sure.”

Sonic can hear the quiet growl Knuckles gives as Sonic stands from his seat, allowing Rouge to maneuver around him to sit down instead. Her attention is immediately set on the echidna, and thus, their typically bickering flirtatious banter is engaged.

Sonic just chuckles to himself as he looks at the others of whom which are now all sitting..

The order is Knuckles, Sonic—who is now replaced by Rouge, Sticks, Amy, Shadow… and Rouge.. which is where Sonic will now be sitting.

By Shadow.

Huh.

Didn’t think that through.

Mentally facepalming his big oof, the hero considers asking everyone to simply scoot down one so he can sit between Sticks and Rouge, but then he’d have to ask Shadow to move and that’s just awkward considering he’s only doing it to get out of sitting next to the guy.

“Whatcha doin’, Sonic??” Amy asks, looking at the blue blur with a cute little head tilt. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling Shadow and Sticks’ gaze also fall on him now.

“I uh-.. Rouge took my spot. So I sorta gotta..”

“Oh! Here,” Amy responds, moving her crossed legs to the side so Sonic can step through easier. Sticks and Shadow promptly do the same, Sticks hugging her feet up on the seat with herself while Shadow swivels his hips to move his legs as Amy did.

Sonic just nods appreciatively and sidesteps through them, careful not to drag his tail across anyone sitting in the row in front of them. Once at the end of his friends, he promptly takes his seat next to Shadow.

This.. was weird.

He hasn’t seen the guy in… honestly, he doesn’t know how long it’s been. Perhaps it was Rouge’s birthday six months ago?? It was her 25th, and she had it at her club. Shadow had been there. He and Sonic hadn’t talked, though. He had mostly stayed talking it up with other GUN agents he and Rouge worked with, and Amy a few times. Then he left early to take Cream home while everyone else of drinking age stayed to party properly.

Sonic hadn’t even realized he and Cream were that close. Let alone that Ms. Vanilla trusted him that must with her precious girl. He was honestly lowkey offended she hadn’t asked Sonic to escort her home. But then again, Sonic had wanted to stay and party, so.. worked out, he supposed.

Either way, the point stands that he didn’t really see Shadow a lot anymore. Somewhere along the years, he and Shadow stopped their petty rivalry and grew apart. Their need to constantly outdo one another didn’t quite hit anymore. Races came to an end. Sparring slowed to nothing.

Sonic often wondered if this was simply because Shadow felt he had nothing to prove anymore. He had grown as his own person, no longer comparing himself to Sonic..

He can’t even remember the last time he heard Shadow refer to himself as ‘the Ultimate Lifeform’.

He didn’t even know where Shadow was living these days.. last he heard, he had been relocated after Eggman took over years ago with the help of Infinite. Once the Resistance took their freedom back, Shadow was moved elsewhere to help rebuild their world. He never really came back permanently. Just showed up here and there..

He looked good. He looked.. different but yet the same. Taller. Definitely taller. And his chest fur was a bit more gold-tinted than the pure white it use to be from what he can see of it peeking out from his shirt. He’s guessing that just comes with age. Most white hedgehogs do yellow with maturity. Just as Sonic’s own quills are slowly turning a slightly lighter shade of blue. More cerulean and cobalt.

The corner creases of Shadow’s eyes looked sharper, but his gaze felt softer. Calmer. Not as brooding or defensive. Sonic couldn’t see his muscles with all those icky clothes on, but he imagines the guy is probably more toned now too—

He’s busted from his train of thought when he finally realizes a bright pair of crimson orbs are staring at him expectedly.

Did… did he say something to Sonic??

“Huh??” Sonic very intelligently says.

Shadow gives an ever so slight hint of a smirk, quirking a brow as he repeats himself, “I said it’s been a while.”

“Oh- yeah! It has. When’s the last time we saw each other, Rouge’s birthday??” Sonic offers his own little smirk now, adopting his cocky persona again to try and play off his very uncool initial response.

“I believe so, though we didn’t exactly get to catch up,” the hybrid replies casually, seeming far more comfortable socializing than the last time Sonic held a conversation with him.

“That we didn’t,” Sonic nods, offering a little chuckled, “Though, I didn’t exactly realize we were on catching up terms.”

“Why would you think that??” Shadow’s brows furrow, head tilting curiously at the blue hedgehog.

“Well, you never asked to catch up before,” Sonic points out, shrugging his shoulders.

“I suppose that’s true,” he mutters after a moment of pause, seeming to ponder this as he looks back towards the stage..

Sonic doesn’t like the weird tension that suddenly just formed between them, so he swiftly changes the subject.

“Didn’t expect to see you at a Sabrina Carpenter concert,” he lightheartedly teases.

“I come to concert often with Rose,” Shadow shrugs nonchalantly, “Plus, Sabrina is extremely talented.”

Sonic hums at this, leaning closer and then nudging Shadow’s arm with his elbow, “You and Ames see each other or somethin’??”

Sonic tries really hard to not make that sound like he was prying. Or jealous.

That obviously doesn’t work.

Shadow merely snorts, seeming amused by Sonic’s question, “Why?? You jealous, Faker??”

Faker. Hasn’t been called that in a while.

Sonic huffs, rolling his eyes and quickly looking away, “I love Amy, but not like that..”

He doesn’t mention Shadow.

Shadow eyes him a moment before answering, “No. We aren’t courting one another.”

“‘Courting’,” Sonic snorts at Shadow’s fancy terminology.

“We just attend a lot of concerts together. We have a lot of the same tastes.”

Sonic can’t help but chuckle at that, “Sorry— it’s just funny imagining the Ultimate Lifeform jamming to Sabrina Carpenter and Taylor Swift.”

“I’m not the Ultimate Lifeform. You are,” Shadow corrects, and that gets Sonic’s attention. Emerald eyes dart over to crimson with a perplexed look at what he just said.

Shadow.. admitted to not being the Ultimate Lifeform?? That’s.. new.

“And either way, they make good songs,” Shadow continues before it can be dwelled on, “Their lyrics are profound and clever.”

Sonic just offers a small smirk and shrugs, “Can’t say I’ve ever really listened enough to properly process the words.”

“Then you’re in for a treat,” Shadow chuckles huskily, a chill going up Sonic’s spine. “Sabrina’s can definitely be.. interesting.”

Sonic decides not to ask what he means, looking forward to just seeing for himself.

He’s noticed a lot of children here, though, despite Amy saying the concert wasn’t age appropriate for Cream- who is now 13, and Tails who is 15. He wonders if these parents realize this and are just stupid, or if Amy is simply mistaken—

The lights dim and a large screen flashes on in the stadium, screaming erupting from all around as the show begins.

The bit is that Sabrina is running late, and when she comes rushing out with a towel wrapped around her only to slowly open it in a flashing style and reveal the shimmering bodysuit underneath, Sonic very quickly decides that yeah.

The parents are just stupid.

Amy is screaming and jumping up and down, Sticks seeming to be looking all around as though this would be the perfect time for some sort of attack.

Rouge is cheering and clapping too, Knuckles standing beside her watching with the same amount of confused intrigue Sonic is feeling.

Shadow is just smiling, standing and clapping at her entrance.

A mic is slowly lowered to her small frame, her height being shorter than most humans, Sonic notes—

Ohhh… ‘Short & Sweet’ Concert. Makes sense now.

Sonic watches as the entire crowd listens with baited breaths as the blonde holds the mic to her lips and sings,

“Oh I leave quite an impression..”

•••

The first song was alright. Typical song about a girl warning her ex’s new girl and shit. Amy is yelling the lyrics along with Rouge, the pink hedgehog bouncing while the bat sways to the beat. Knuckles seems to greatly be enjoying that more than the actual show. Sticks is still looking all around, but she’s moving to the beat as well, at least. Shadow is next to Sonic simply ever so lightly swaying to the music and nodding his head now and then. Sonic swears he detects humming from the guy at one point, but the crowd singing makes it hard to tell.

The song flows right into the second one, that one feeling far more energetic and upbeat to the point Sonic finds himself bouncing as well and letting loose a bit. If Shadow the Hedgehog can attend the concert with no remorse, so can Sonic.

These lyrics definitely are more explicit, dropping the f-bomb frequently. And much to Sonic’s astonishment and amusement, Shadow actually chants along to this one.

“I won’t give a fuck about you~—“ Sabrina will sing, turning the mic to the crowd for them to sing it back to her, which Shadow very passionately does.

“I WON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU!”

“I won’t give a fuck about you~—“

Sonic watches with a laugh as Shadow leans down to Amy next to him, her standing on her toes in her heels to get in his face as well as they both aggressively and playfully yell “I WON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU!”

It’s a rare day that Amy Rose curses, but it’s definitely a fun one.

Sonic even joins in on the chanting at the end, catching on pretty easily. Rouge is chanting it all sassy in Knuckles direction to which he just smirks and rolls his eyes at her while biting back his grin.

Sticks very much enjoys yelling explicits unabashedly as well.

The song ends and Sabrina properly addresses the crowd, welcoming them to her concert. The vibe is crazy in the place, girls screaming everywhere. Even Shadow cups his hands around his mouth and woops for her.

The next song is unexpectedly more southern styled than Sonic expects, a more acoustic-country sort of sound than the pop songs that came before. Like she’s saying welcome home to everyone.

Amy sings to this one rather than yelling, and Shadow sings now and then, too, singing some lyrics louder than others like ‘A boy who’s nice that breathes I swear he’s nowhere to be seen’ or ’Since the Lord forgot my gay awakenin’ Then I’ll just be here in the kitchen servin’ up some moanin’ and bitchin’.’

Sonic honest to Chaos can’t help but notice how passionate that ‘gay awakening’ line was from the hybrid.

Honestly, she’s really good. Her voice is strong and clear despite the choreography she’s performing, and the beat is catchy. He can see why she has a pretty damn good following. Hell. He may even start listening to her some more after this, who knows??

He definitely notices she’s a bit more.. how does he put this.. bold than other artists tend to be. She’s very comfortable with her sexuality if her movements and lyrics are anything to go off of. And with how much of a passionate and loving person Amy tends to be, it does shock Sonic one bit that she’s a fan of this girl. It’s right up her alley.

However, it does shock him Shadow is a fan. Shadow whom which Sonic swears will die a virgin. At least in his head.

But Shadow doesn’t seem at all put off by any lyrics or dancing. He seems almost to relate to them. And that throws Sonic off even more.

Or perhaps he’s simply reading too much into this. That’s probably it. He needs to relax and cut loose to have some fun and stop over analyzing his long term rival.

And as if reading his damn mind—

“You guys want a drink??” Rouge announces, slouching forward and wiggling the flask in her hand that she managed to sneak in somehow. Sonic does not want to know how.

Amy gasps and laughs with wide eyes, “Rouge, you’re so naughty!”

“It’s a Sabrina Carpenter Concert! Naughty is part of the experience~” she grins, already handing out little plastic shot glasses to the group. Filling them up one by one, they all wait until they each have one before counting to three.

Then they tip them back, downing them all in a single motion. Amy immediately wobbles a little as it hits her. Sonic himself bounces up and down and wiggles with a “Woo! That stuff’s strong!”

Shadow’s nose crinkles at the overwhelming burning in his throat, clearing his throat as Sticks coughs at the unexpected taste. Knuckles even has to cough a bit at the kick the shit has.

Rouge always has the craziest drinks, man.

Now nice and warm and tipsy, the next song begins and Amy squeals excitedly and shakes Shadow’s arm as she realizes which one it is. He just chuckles and grins as well, and Sonic feels like he’s definitely missing an inside joke or something but it’s fine. They’re having fun.

“He didn’t hold me in his arms. We didn’t stumble over the pages of our relationship arc. Ignoring tornado warnings..” Shadow is singing again. And Chaos— Sonic doesn’t try to overthink the lyrics, but Shadow sounds so earnest while he’s singing. Like he means it.

Amy’s head is resting on Shadow’s shoulder, singing along too.

“Don’t understand how quickly we get right back in our rhythm without missing a step. And logically the last thing I should have on my mind But I want you there sometimes..”

Sonic sways slowly to the song, but he keeps his ears perked at the words Shadow sings. His brow furrowed in thought as each lyric hits a little differently.

“I guess maybe that’s why I’m lying to my therapist. I keep saying things like, ‘I never saw him and we never kissed’.”

It’s just a song.

It’s just a song.

“Now I think somehow in my mind, if I could convince him, if he doesn’t see it, then maybe it doesn’t exist.”

It doesn’t mean anything.

“I think he’s onto me every time I say I’m over that son of a bitch. I’m lying to my therapist.”

The song ends and the crowd cheers, Shadow clapping as well as Amy lets out another scream. Rouge is cheering as well, her head rested on Knuckle’s shoulder and his arm is around her waist.

’So much for not being able to stand her,’ Sonic thinks to himself with a little snort. 

The stage lights change to that of a sunset, Sonic only just then realizing this entire concert is simulating a sleepover. They started during the day, now it’s sunset. His guess is night is next. Then morning. And that’s probably when she’ll sing about coffee!

Shadow likes coffee..

Why is he thinking that right now???

The next song is slower as well, Sabrina playing a guitar the first half. This one seems to hit Amy extra hard. And Sonic tries really hard not to overthink that as well. He knows he’s broken the girl’s heart in the past by denying her advances. But he does love her. She’s very important to him..

But like a little sister. Or a best friend.

And while she’s over him now and has accepted that, that doesn’t mean she’s not gonna still mourn that loss of a relationship she had made up in her head for so long. And rightfully so. Let her have her experience, he won’t shame her for it. 

That being said, when she screams out “The girl outside the strip club getting her tarot cards read, we love to read the cold, hard facts, and swear they’re incorrect!” he can’t help but feel a little bit like a piece of shit for being unable to requite the love she deserves. 

“You don’t have to lie to girls! If they like you, they’ll just lie to themselves!”

“And girls will lose their goddamn minds for you, they’ll cry and girls will lie and do it ‘till the day they die!”

Yeah. Piece of shit.

The song ends and Amy looks like she might have a few tears rolling down her cheeks from what Sonic can see of her. So with a guilty little smile, he taps Shadow’s shoulder with a sheepish, “Can I have her a minute?” to which Shadow looks Sonic skeptically up and down before hesitantly stepping back to allow Sonic to switch places with him. Sonic wraps his tan arms tight around his favorite girl, squeezing her in a big hug as she giggles and sniffles against his chest.

“I’m alright, Sonic,” she assures with a roll of her eyes, leaning into his hug nonetheless, “Just a bit emotional.”

“Love you, Ames,” Sonic responds simply and honestly, nuzzling the top of her head to which she just giggles some more and nuzzles back with a “Love you too, Sonic..”

Sonic glances up to see Shadow smiling at them, the blue hedgehog clearing his throat and letting her go as the next song starts to instead keep one arm swing around her shoulders and sway with her leaning into his side.

And just like that, Shadow is back to singing with his whole chest and being very distracting for Sonic dear Gaia—

“You’re good at falling, not the staying there. You’re good at the giving too much then getting scared.”

Amy holds onto Sonic’s side a bit tighter as Shadow sings this one along with their entertainer for the night, Sonic keeping his eyes on the singer rather than looking around lest he gaze at Shadow.

“But now I wonder why I let your confusion keep me up at night. I’m so tired. Re-read every single undertone and I overanalyzed it, front, back and beside it. Where else can we go? There’s nothing left to decode. Done lookin’ for signs in the gaps and the silence. It’s just getting old.”

Damn. These lyrics are heavy. Shadow was right, she’s definitely got skill as a writer. The words speak to people. And it’s obvious with how Shadow’s eyes are shut and he’s singing along so shamelessly. Like he’s pouring his heart out. Amy is singing as well, but not like Shadow..

This one hits Shadow hard.

And Sonic really wants to know why..

The song ends and sure as hell, the stage goes from sunset to near night with a red curtain and lighting. Sonic’s just feels more validated in his theory.

The next song feels more upbeat, and Sonic feels a bit of relief wash over him. He was starting to feel a bit bummed with all the lyrics being thrown around. Though he’s not sure why. It’s not like he’s the reason Shadow is singing with such sweet sorrow.

Still, the place needs something more upbeat, and Sabrina is certainly providing.

And boy is she providing.

She’s sprawled out on a bed, moving around very seductively.

The song is raunchy. Exclusively about hooking up with someone, Sonic is certain.

But it’s also incredibly amusing because Shadow actually turns on some sass. 

Amy is looking at Rouge and pointing at Shadow as she sings with her,

“Who’s the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent, like?”

Shadow just poses with his jacket, whipping his quills dramatically as Amy and Rouge sing, “Maybe it’s all in my head.”

Sonic laughs at this, Shadow chuckling as well, and everyone seems way more loose and silly again. Much more Sonic’s vibe.

What Sonic doesn’t expect is when the next verse starts, Shadow turns to him and starts singing along as if serenading Sonic. And the lyrics—

Oooo boy.

“Come ride on me— I mean camaraderie.” Shadow acts along, shaking his head as if correcting himself and continuing, “Said you’re not in my time zone but you wanna be.”

Sonic blinks wide at him as Shadow takes Sonic’s hand in his and dramatically clutches it to his chest as though making some sort of poetic love confession, “Where art thou, why not uponeth me?” Sonic shivers. Shadow points to his head, “See it in my mind, let’s fulfill the prophecy.”

And just like that, Shadow drops Sonic’s hand and turns right back to looking at the stage as he sings along to the chorus. Sonic is left very confused and very shook. His cheeks and ears are burning and his throat feels dry.

A lot of images are now in his head that he never expected to be there..

The rest of the song is the same vibe. Lustful and flirty and everyone seems to be vibing along with it. Rouge is practically serenading Knuckles whose muzzle is about as red as the rest of him at this point. He’s got his pink cowgirl hat tipped down as if to hide behind it all sheepish, his eyes only able to be seen by her.

Sonic is willing to bet they’re bedroom eyes. 

Speaking of! The song ends with a canopy closing around a bed on the stage and the silhouette of Sabrina and some random guy getting it on to which everyone screams at. Sonic even snaps out of his stupor to wolf whistle at the scene.

Everyone is laughing as the next song starts, though Sonic is still eyeing Shadow out of the corner of his eyes.

He’s never seen him like this, so it’s just so hard to look away. He’s so… free compared to the last he saw him. Unafraid to show emotion or feeling. It’s a good look on him.

But above all, he’s still thinking about Shadow taking his hand and quite literally asking why Sonic wasn’t ‘uponeth’ him.

That was.. interesting.

There’s a mini-show on the screen between songs and then a small dance number. Then it’s the bird song! Sonic doesn’t know the whole thing, but he knows the chorus thanks to it going viral so he can finally somewhat sing along to something!

The chorus hits and the entire group sings in unison.

“I feel so much lighter like a feather with you off my mind! Aahaahaahha!”

They’re all laughing into one another, dancing and bumping hips. Knuckles takes his hat off at one point and swings it around above his head all cowboy style to which Rouge grinds on his front in the process. Sonic laughs and hypes them up along with the others, Shadow rolling his eyes at them with an amused grin.

The bridge hits and they all do the little dance that’s been all over the Internet.

“I—“ they whip their heads and jut out their hips with all the sass they can muster, “slam the door, I—“ they flick their wrists, “hit ignore, I—“ they all slowly sink to the floor, Sonic swaying his hips as he goes, “say no, no, no, no more I—“

They all stand back up, Sonic facing Shadow now and pointing at him, “got you blocked, excited to never talk, I..”

Shadow chuckles out, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

They all laugh as they sing the chorus, jumping up and down and pumping their fists. Getting into it and having fun like the kids they are.

The next two songs are the same. Sonic particularly likes the song ‘Fast Times’, which is pretty on brand for him. Sabrina definitely is feeling herself on stage, as is his friend group. They’re all feeling a bit more wild and even take a few more shots here and there. Buzzing with energy and alcohol.

Amy definitely is enjoying her birthday.

Some more of the songs Sonic enjoys are ‘All Because I Liked A Boy’ and her surprise rendition of ‘Mamma Mia’. 

But when Nonsense comes on, he can’t stop himself from yelling in excitement right along with Amy.

He knows this one! Finally!!!

He’s gotta do more research before joining Amy at the next concert.

It’s like they’re damn rehearsed with how in sync their group is. The song reaches its bridge and they all mindlessly pair up. Knuckles and Rouge, Sticks and Amy, and Sonic and Shadow all face each other and do the silly TikTok dance that’s been everywhere—

“I’m talkin’ all around the clock, I’m talkin’ hope nobody knocks, I’m talkin’ opposite of soft, I’m talkin’—“

Without a single though and with all the drunken courage and hype in the world, Sonic spins around to grind his ass up against Shadow’s front as he sings “Wild, wild thoughts~”

Shadow’s eyes are huge when this happens, hands freezing up like he’s surrendering and immediately stopping singing along.

Sonic just bites his lip and spins back around to face him, putting one hand around his shoulder while moving the other as if to beckon Shadow to a challenge, “You gotta keep up with me, I got some young energy,” he’s dancing still, tail swaying back and forth seductively as he winks at Shadow, “I caught that L-O-V-E. How do you do this to me??”

And then he’s letting go of him, Shadow’s dark eyes still staring him up and down, but Sonic pretends not to notice as he keeps singing along with the song.

  “But I can’t help myself when you get close to me. Baby my tongue goes numb,” Amy leans over to Sonic, their backs pressing together as they laugh and sing, “Sounds like blehblehblee~” Moving their hands in a talking motion and giggling at each other. It’s fun. Energies are high and so is something else now.. Sonic can feel it. It’s been building for a bit now, and he’s been denying it out of shock but with how Shadow’s crimson eyes stay locked on him while he moves??…

There’s a sexual charge in the air now. Heavy and thick between them. Sonic keeps it playful, but there’s nothing silly about the way Shadow’s hand lightly brushes his hip while it moves or how his fingers graze his swishing tail. 

And while all this is building, the song ends and Sabrina starts another one. Now changed into a longer skirt that’s more elegant and singing a slowly song.

Shadow doesn’t sing this time.

But when the lyrics “You’re so sad, there’s no communication, but baby, you put us in this situation.”

Sonic glances over to Shadow to find him looking right back at him.

“You’re running so fast from the hearts that you’re breakin’..”

Sonic swallows hard, looking at him a long moment before quickly turning his gaze back to Sabrina on the stage. He likes the playful sexual tension a lot better than this feeling.. this one scares him.

Rouge has Knuckles arms wrapped around her from behind, holding her in a hug as they both sway side to side slowly and she sings along. Knuckles’ chin is resting on her head, a small smile on his face and his bedazzled cowboy hat all crooked on his head. Amy and Sticks have their phone flashlights turned on, raised above them and slowly swaying side to side as they sing along too. Shadow takes out his lighter— because of course the edgelord just has one on hand— and holds its flame up to sway side to side as well, gaze finally averting from Sonic and at last allowing the blue hedgehog to breathe. The song eventually ends, and the crowd cheers.

Another song doesn’t immediately begin. Rather Sabrina starts talking.

“Hey Central City.”

Everyone screams.

“It’s so stunning here. Every time I walk the streets here, I’m like— damn. What do they put in this water. Like. It’s obviously a lot better here on the East Coast than West, but it’s also really helped your genetics.”

Sonic laughs at this along with most of the audience. She’s actively flirting with her crowd and it’s comical. 

“Something I’ve been so lucky to encounter on my show so far is just some gorgeous faces.. and some crazy handmade outfits that are just— wow.”

Amy screams, proud of her own outfit as she bounces up and down.

“And I want to thank you all for taking the time out of your lives to put forth so much effort and just for being here. I can’t thank you enough.”

More cheering..

Then Sabrina is cupping her hand over her eyes and looking through the crowd. Sonic notices how Shadow huffs in an amused way, smirking as he watches. Amy looks like she’s waiting on bated breath. Something must be happening that Sonic’s missing..?

“Just let me take a look at yall..,” the singer hums, the crowd cheering as her gaze skims over each section..

Then it lands on theirs.

“Woah.”

Sonic’s eyes widen. Is she looking at them???

“Holy shit— damn, I think I just found my future last name here on the fifth row, oh my god- girls come here come here come here!”

Two backup dancers join her on stage, Sonic looking over to Amy to see her reaction to this and Amy’s own eyes look wide and hopeful. Like she’s about to lose her mind.

Sabrina returns near the part of the stage closest to them, pointing directly at them, “Heyyy fellas~”

The spotlight, sure as hell, shines right over them.

“I don’t have to ask for your names..”

The crowd screams as their entire group pops up on the screen of the concert, police sirens and lights suddenly flashing and blaring through the stadium. Sonic’s ears flatten at the loud noise, a small amount of panic setting in momentarily out of pure reaction. But Shadow doesn’t seem worried. He’s laughing and grinning and Amy is screaming and jumping hysterically, so-.. he assumes it’s fine and part of the show.

Sonic gives a small grin and little wave, everyone’s screams becoming louder in the venue.

“Didn’t expect to be graced with the presence of our world’s greatest heroes tonight,” the singer compliments, the crowd cheering as she runs her fingers through her hair all flirty and cute, “You guys enjoying the show??”

They all scream in response, Sonic cupping his hands over his mouth with a “Woooo!!” and Knuckles offering a wolf whistle and wink.

Shadow just claps with a smirk.

“I’m overwhelmed— I knew your group was beautiful, but I didn’t realize you were all so gorgeous, goddamn~”

Sonic just grins all confident, chuckling and giving his trademark smirk and wink to the camera which just makes the crowd scream harder.

No way they’re getting out of here walking. They’ll have to chaos control out to avoid this crowd.

“Something is happening to me- what are you guys doing to me,” she practically moans, “I’m getting so hot and—“ her skirt drops to reveal a miniskirt underneath, “and all my clothes are falling off!”

Everyone screams, Sonic’s eyes widening in surprise and then a laugh escaping him as Shadow chuckles and rolls his eyes at the hero’s astonished reaction.

Amy is still losing her mind, screaming things like “I LOVE YOU QUEEN” and “ARREST ME ARREST ME”.

And sure as hell, Sabrina pulls out some pink, fuzzy handcuffs that have Sonic’s emerald eyes following them. He shoves his hands at his sides and nods his head subtly towards Amy beside him, now realizing what’s happening. One of them is quite literally getting arrested. And if anyone should get the honor, it should be the birthday girl.

Sabrina seems to take this hint, walking towards the edge of the stage with them and crouching down to reach as far as she can before flawlessly tossing them right to Amy,

“I must handcuff you, they match you and everything.. Amy Rose~”

The crowd roars, Amy screaming as well as she slides them right on and lifts her handcuffed hands above her head and jumps up and down victoriously. The whole group laughs, their faces finally leaving the screens as Sabrina starts her next song.

“This one’s for you, babygirl..~”

Sonic has a feeling this one is gonna be spicy.

Sure as hell, the lyrics are full of talks of hot ass, good genetics, handcuffs, and hormones. Not to mention the entire song is alluding to her want to just be impregnated by some guy— in this case, Amy funnily enough. 

The beat is intoxicating, though, and Sonic’s fuzzy brain is enjoying just bouncing and bopping his head along. Him and Amy once again bumping hips as she sings, chuckling and feeling Shadow’s gaze watching them which only leads to Sonic meeting it and then moving his hips to bounce over and bump Shadow’s.

Shadow blinks at him at first before he gives a small smirk and ever so slightly begins bumping his hips to Sonic’s as well. Sonic just laughs and bounces between them, Amy giggling as well and still dawning her new pink fuzzy handcuffs.

“Wanna try out some freaky positions?”

Sonic watches as Sabrina runs up to the front of the stage, sinking to her knees and spreading her legs as she pulls her hair back with one hand and moves the mic in a very suggestive blow-job motion in front of her mouth, “Have you ever tried this one??”

The crowd has once again lost it, Sonic’s eyes widening and his tongue going dry at the sight. 

Yup. Not age appropriate. He definitely gets it now.

What really throws Sonic off is how Amy leans forward and across Sonic to playfully swat Shadow with a, “You have!!” laughing all half drunk and giddy. Shadow’s eyes widen, chuckling as he holds a finger to his lips and hushes, “Shhhh, Rose!”

But he can’t be offended on Amy’s birthday. Especially when she’s having so much fun.

Sonic on the other hand, looks absolutely scandalized. His gaze slowly turning to Shadow with his brows raised high above his head.

Shadow is still swaying to the beat, eyes watching Sonic now as they share a silent moment of communication.

Shadow just smirks and shrugs, turning back to the stage as if it’s no big deal.

Um— it’s a big deal!

Sabrina announces now that she wants the crowd to get on their knees with her now, everyone who is able. Amy is immediately on the ground, no second thoughts. Sticks looks skeptical, but she slowly moves down as well. Rouge does so slowly, her ass purposely grinding down Knuckles as she goes. Knuckles swallows and slowly follows behind her.

Sonic looks to Shadow to see if he’s doing it and what he finds is..

Oh sweet Chaos..

“Adore me..,” Shadow is singing, his eyes watching Sonic’s as he moves down to his knees painfully slowly. Sonic’s eyes are wide as he watches Shadow bow before me, “Hold me and explore me..” It’s like there’s no one else in the room for a moment, pupils blown and interlocked. Sonic’s lips are parted and his heart is pounding as he watches Shadow mouth, “Mark your territory.. tell me I’m the only only only only one..”

Sonic feels a pressure on the back of his leg, Shadow’s gloved palm slowly sliding around his calf and sliding up to the back of his knee..

“Adore me.. hold me and explore me..”

Sonic might be drooling. He’s not sure.

“I’m so fuckin’ horny..~”

Sonic moans. Absolutely involuntary and unexpected, a hand quickly covering his mouth when he realizes. His eyes are huge okay?? Shadow’s hand is up to the back of his upper thigh at this point, and Sonic thinks he’s gonna have to dismiss himself if Shadow keeps this up..

“Tell me I’m the only only only only one..”

Shadow is leaning dangerously close to Sonic’s crotch.. teasing.. crimson eyes half-lidded and looking up at the cobalt hero.

He knows what he’s doing..

“Now  everyone, let’s get up and dance!!!” Sabrina shouts out, and the entire crowd jolts up with a scream, nearly breaking the hypnosis Sonic was under.

Nearly.

Everyone is dancing like it’s the last thing they’ll ever do in their lives, but Sonic’s eyes are still watching Shadow as the hybrid slowly rises back to his feet and stares right back..

Sonic’s breath is shaky, Shadow is staring at him like it’s a damn challenge. No-… an invitation.

Sonic snaps out of it, clearing his throat and quickly turning to the group, “I’ll be back— gotta go take a bathroom break.”

They all nod, waving him off and not taking their eyes off the performance.

Shadow scoots back so Sonic can quickly brush through him towards the aisle and then the exit.

The line for the women’s bathroom is insane. But the men’s is near empty. Thank Chaos.

Sonic rushes inside, finding only a few urinals being used and most the actual stalls open. He clammers into one and locks it shut with a heavy sigh. Rubbing his hands back through his quills, Sonic closes his eyes and breathes. Tries to get that look out of his head. Those fuck-me eyes Shadow had been giving him..

Listening to the muffled concert outside, he hears the door open now and then as men come and go. For a moment, it’s silent in the bathroom outside his own breathing. He leans against the stall wall..

What is he doing?? It’s Shadow! Not someone who matters. 

Why is he getting under his skin like this?? Well- He’s always gotten under his skin, but-.. this is different. 

The door opens and he hears footsteps walk in, staying quiet so whoever it is can do their business then leave.

“Sonic??” 

Well shit.

Sonic holds his breath, hearing Shadow walk slowly towards the only closed stall.

Breathing out, he replies as casually as he can, “Give me a second to do my business, dude.”

Shadow huffs at this, Sonic can practically see his eyes rolling. 

“Are you alright??” 

“Uh..,” Sonic tries to play it off, “Yeah?? That’s a weird thing to ask when a guy is takin’ a—“

“I can see your feet, idiot,” Shadow grumbles, “I know you’re not actually using the bathroom.”

Sonic looks down at his feet that are very much sideways in the stall due to him leaning against the wall, groaning at his own stupidity before flushing the toilet he never used and unlocking the stall to come out. Shadow is standing there, sure as hell. Arms crossed with a furrow in his brow, but there’s a sympathetic sort of look in his eyes..

It makes Sonic uneasy.

“I was just finishing,” Sonic remarks, unwilling to admit to being caught.

Shadow huffs at this, “Right..”

Sonic walks past him, “All yours, pal. But it’s a little weird you wanted to specifically use the one my ass sat on—“

“Why’d you never talk to me at Rouge’s party??”

Sonic halts, turning to look at Shadow with confused eyes. 

“.. you wanna do this now??” Sonic asks with a little smirk, not letting his cool mask fall.

“Before the night ends and we go back to never speaking to each other,” Shadow answers, taking a few steps towards Sonic with his arms crossed.

“…You didn’t care.”

“What??” Shadow’s brows furrow now, looking confused as Sonic does.

“When I was dead.. for 6 months. Trapped on the Death Egg, being tortured.. you didn’t care,” Sonic explains with a sigh, shrugging his shoulders and averting his gaze. He keeps a casual smile, though, trying his best to seem unbothered by the heavy subject, “You never came and talked to me or checked on me. Just fought by me until the job was done.. and then you left.”

Shadow’s lips part at this, looking shocked by Sonic’s recollection of everything. 

“Of course I cared, you idiot, I-..,” Shadow pauses, seeing how Sonic just smirks a bit sadly at him and quirks a brow. The hybrid sighs at this, trying again, “I didn’t-.. I didn’t mean to make you feel as though I didn’t care, I-… I blamed myself..”

Sonic frowns now, looking at Shadow as he crosses his own arms, “What do you mean??”

“It was me who motivated Infinite into becoming the villain he was.. my bitterness and need to make everyone feel inferior to me is what led him to Eggman. And thus-.. your downfall..,” Shadow explains quietly, eyes looking at Sonic’s with shame. And oh.. that hurts Sonic somewhere in his chest.

It makes sense now.. why Shadow is so different. If he genuinely blamed himself for Sonic’s supposed death, it may have been enough for him to start trying to make some changes to himself and his life.. not be so condescending and isolated and instead be more open and accepting.

Sonic takes a small step towards Shadow, a hand reaching out as if to touch him only to stop himself and take it back with a frown, “…It wasn’t your fault, Shads.”

“I couldn’t face you,” Shadow continues regardless, “After what I had caused— my own copy had been one of the ones to take you down.. It was my doing. All of it. I had killed our greatest hero, and when you came back?? I couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of something like that again..”

Oh Shadow..

“I was a liability. A threat- a danger to you and everyone else. My physical and genetic perfections were outweighed by something I had overlooked.. personality flaws,” he says simply, looking down now with an angered look. Not at Sonic, but at himself.

Sonic stays quiet, unsure what to say.. 

He knows Shadow. Arguing with him on it won’t change his mind.

“I never didn’t care,” Shadow eventually says, his eyes shutting a moment before returning to Sonic’s, “On the contrary, Hedgehog… I cared far more than you realized.. enough to walk away from all of it.”

Sonic’s brows knit at this, looking at him a long moment.

They stay like that. Staring at one another with heavy-burdened gazes and deep sentiment..

Sonic’s feet are moving before his brain is, reaching out to Shadow and cupping his cheeks in his hands to yank him right in.

Their mouths collide, rough and sudden and teeth clattering and lips bruised and—

It’s only a flash of a moment and then Sonic’s brain is catching up, immediately releasing Shadow and backing away with wide eyes and, “I’m sorry, I—“

Shadow isn’t having it, a hand grabbing Sonic’s waist and the other cupping around to the back of the hedgehog’s head to jerk him right back in.

This time the kiss is long. Hot and heavy and desperate, needy and rough..

Unspoken words in a mess of a kiss.

Sonic’s own hands move to slide up Shadow’s front over his shirt, one gripping at the fabric and the other sliding up to clutch Shadow’s chin as their heads tilt to maneuver the kiss deeper.

Eventually, air is a thing and Sonic has to pull away with a gasp only for Shadow to immediately shove Sonic back.

Sonic stumbles a bit, feeling worry creep in that Shadow was regretting this already—

Only to see Shadow digging in his quills for a red chaos emerald, pulling it out and shoving it into Sonic’s hands. They’re both panting. Both sloppy and shaky and way too pent up.

Sonic fumbles the emerald in his hand and looks at Shadow confused for a second only for Shadow to dive right into his neck and start licking and biting and kissing.

Sonic’s knees feel weak, his eyes rolling back with a shaky moan leaving his lips.

Shadow just growls in response, “Get us out of here.”

“Where??” Sonic very stupidly asks— his brain go brrr okay??

Shadow snorts against his neck, Sonic’s own lips curling up at the sound, “Your place, idiot.”

“Oh-,” Sonic’s eyes shoot open again, realization dawning on him as he nearly drops the emerald all over again once it does, “OH.”

He’s gonna get the Ultimate Lay.

Raising the emerald high above his head, he breathes out a very quick and anxious, “Chaos control-“

The two disappear in a flash.

[sherrymagic]

Tan/New being iconic in Episode 10 DEAD FRIEND FOREVER (2023-2024)

[halfdeadwallfly]

me when the group conversation is triggering a bunch of instrusive thoughts and he notices that i'm uncomfortable so he keeps trying to redirect the topic without drawing everyone's attention to me 💪🥳😭🥀💌🌬️☄️🪐⛈️👾🐛🙏💌

[blizzardfluffykpop]

You sent me an ask so I shall return the favor! What is the most recent Kpop group you’ve gotten into and how did you find out about them? I always love hearing fan “origin stories” lol

Thank you for returning the favor~ That would be The Boyz 🥰💖 I love hearing fan "origin stories" too hehe (This is gonna get long I love them sm)

Anyways I've known about them since debut? I loved Bloom Bloom Pow with my whole heart when it came out and tried to fall for them then- It didn't work. The next time was when The Stealer (TS) came out~ I had watched them perform for Road to Kingdom- because ptg was on the show too- But I really loved TS cb- sm so that I bought the album about 6 mos later with my favorite members as inclusions at the time (Eric, Kevin and Hyunjae). But nothing came about of it even after watching the weekly idol episodes... Then came Whisper era and I ended up biasing Changmin (Q) and loving that song but again nothing came out of it.

(A little backstory is that Changkyun (I.M) got me into Dominic Fike's music-) Thus, when tiktok showed me Juyeon, Changmin, and Sunwoo dancing to Babydoll earlier this year as a dance cover: I fell. And then I finally checked out Watch It~ But Hui had his solo and it distracted me completely from falling further. Then I had gotten sick and decided 'well, what if I watch their content?' And I did... I watched their hello82 interview and their reaction to fanart of them, and lastly their mafia dance. And I loved each sm that I decided to check out more.

It was the first time I had watched their content and wanted to see more. And now, I watch their content almost daily. It's kind of like they revived the joy of kpop for me? My (old) ult of ults has been on hiatus due to the military so it's been stagnant content lately for me. But then they came in like a breath of fresh air- and I simply can't get enough. This month will be 3 mos and I honestly hope I'll follow them for a long time. (I think they're my new ult of ults tbh)

And lastly now here I am as a Younghoon and Juyeon bias (with bias wrecker: Changmin... he's doing everything to be bias again). And with them having a comeback I loved with my whole heart this past month, I think it really solidified them with me. Honestly, I'm so happy with them.

[femmefaggot]

genuinely very very happy about maya still Do Not get me wrong. I simply wish... the world was better and less cruel. and that I was not complicit in that cruelty. and that honorspren in shadesmar werent such hypocrites.

[medicinemane]

I don't know, I get tired of a lot of positivity

Like yes yes, the world's wonderful and I'm so strong or whatever generic thing is being said (because it's always so generalized to the point of meaningless), but you know shit is what it is, and the only way forward is with changes I manage to make... which you're not helping with at all

And as for like... my internal mood, I'm deeply isolated, sorry if hollow platitudes don't sooth the gaping maw inside me

It is what it is, and I probably get my shit together enough to do stuff like teach out of my basement like I'd like, it's just I believe that I'll be alone in a crowd like I've always been

But positivity... I just... I kinda get sick of it. There's this guy on youtube I watch who talks about economics stuff, he's recently started doing positivity and... I just fucking know his personality enough where it's like sorry mate but I'm not interested in hearing you spout Secret light kinds off drivel

...I don't know, I suppose it boils down to this

One, I can barely fucking take in positive things said directly to me, about me. Generalizations don't help even a little... I'm a mess, I'd really like someone to toss me a life preserver instead of always tossing confetti at me while I struggle to stay afloat... doesn't help

Two, the world is a terribly imperfect place, and rather than taking a mentality of "everything will work out", I think it's important to acknowledge that sometimes good people live alone, die alone, and they never got the break they needed and slowly bled out

I think it's worth knowing that if you can't step in and help yourself, then maybe no help'll come at all

...I don't know, I suppose in the end the core of what I'm saying is a lot of positivity seems like self help tier stuff and... I get tired of that, and I see so many good people struggling and... eh... either I can at least come in and say something positive custom fit to them, or I can keep my mouth shut

Just fucking let me rot. Help or let me fester on my own, you know?

I got rid of the trailer, I maybe did something like cleaning though I can't tell... at what point will my pace on trying to make things better be good enough for people, and I'll be able to stop having people tell me to fix my life... as if I hadn't thought of that already

...everyone means well, it's just tiring

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’d like to entertain and enliven you now with the saga of my Slut Era.

I’ve always been a serial monogamist and my shortest long term relationships clocked in at three years. So perhaps that’s why when I finally broke it off with my ex I went insane on dating. Part of it was definitely just that between anxiety and loneliness I wanted to fill up my time.

This happened when I was living alone for the first time, no roommates, just me and my little cat Leeloo. I didn’t want to come home to an empty house so instead I set up dates.

Most of these were disastrous. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I had a lot more first dates than second because they’d seen enough, including the one where people aggressively complimented me.

But after a few months I had four people I was seeing simultaneously. I was up front with all of them that things were not exclusive, and they all agreed, so no infidelity took place here, just a lot of hijinks.

Here’s who was on the dating roster:

• An apprentice woodworker that we’ll call Jill. I honestly thought at 26 years old that her being 21 wasn’t a problem age gap and I quickly learned that there was a vast gulf of both maturity and life experience between us. Jill described herself as “heteroflexible” and had just dumped her first boyfriend to flirt it up with me.

• A married woman looking for a friends with benefits. We’ll call her Alice. I insisted on meeting her husband first to be sure I wasn’t part of a cheating mess and he gave me his blessing when I stayed over at her house. Years later when he and Alice had divorced I would go on to sell him and his new fiancée an engagement ring and we both realized at the end how we knew each other and it was wildly awkward. Alice was nice, but a hardcore vegan who insisted I brush my teeth if I so much as ate string cheese before I could kiss her. She was also unhappy in her marriage and was feeling out if I’d want to get serious.

• A bartender dubbed Snakebites, so called because of her signature piercings. She cooked me a steak so raw it was still mooing and some of the best asparagus I’d ever had. In our singular sexy encounter she bit my nipple and I never got over it. Really don't bite someone if you don't know their preference and work up in pressure. We weren’t terribly compatible but neither of us were willing to admit it yet. Truthfully I considered still dating her solely because I desperately wanted her bathroom. It had all black tile, black toilet, black sink, a rain shower in the corner and a jacuzzi tub. I may not have loved her but god I loved that bathroom.

And finally,

• My beloved, who I would go on to marry, who was dealing with a lot of personal stuff at the time. Obviously that meant I liked them the best of all the people I was seeing because we were both disasters at the time.

So that’s the cast of this little misadventure. Now, our story begins with Jill.

Jill was someone who heightened my anxiety. Each of the three times she came to my home she brought and left more stuff. A self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans collection of DVDs. It was like she was trying to move in. She also liked to deride my taste in things, frequently calling me a pleb when I mentioned a band or show I liked.

She was working on a gorgeous little decorative table in her woodworking program. The main wood for the top had a beautiful dapple of knots like jaguar spots, and when she showed me a picture I exclaimed how pretty it was.

“Do you want it?”

“Oh- I mean it’s lovely, I wouldn’t mind having it, but you should sell it and make some money!”

But she was adamant. She’d give me the little side table. At about this time, Alice was starting to get awfully lovey for a FWB. I knew she wasn’t happy with her husband but I also knew we were not a good fit. Fun fact: Alice and her husband were step siblings with a pretty hefty age gap. They got together when he stumbled upon a kink photo shoot she’d done with vegetables. None of their family was happy about the relationship but they weren’t related by blood so it was fine.

So I was fending off more overt romantic advances from Alice, and feeling increasingly like I needed to break things off with Jill. Snakebites wasn’t ever initiating communication and I decided to pull a lot of plugs at once.

I ghosted Snakebites, told Alice that I thought we should cool it, and in a move worthy of a rom-com I asked my beloved if I could pretend we were exclusive to put off Jill. They agreed and I texted Jill to let her know that I was no longer single.

I was not prepared for Jill’s response. She. Was. Devastated. She flew off the handle. She’d just been waiting for the right time to tell me how she felt about me! How dare I do this to her!

What about the table?!

“You should keep the table, it’s gorgeous, you’ll be able to sell it, but I don’t expect a free table.”

Silence met me after that text. I worried and fretted and eventually headed home.

There on my doorstep. The table.

It was a small little end table, reeking of oil and polish, but very beautiful. I brought it inside. The little drawer didn’t even have a knob or guide rails. But it did have a handwritten bill proclaiming that it was costing me $500.

“I can’t afford a $500 table, Jill!” I texted.

“Well you kept saying how nice it was. I spent a lot of time on it.”

“I’m not saying it’s not worth $500” (it wasn’t, it was a tiny side table made by an apprentice) “but I can’t buy a $500 table.”

“Make me an offer.”

I stared at the little table. I did actually like it, but I worried about the repercussions of entering into this deal. Hesitantly I typed back, “$300.” I didn’t think it was worth that much but I didn’t want to insult her too badly.

This suited her for the night. But the next day she informed me she needed a new bed, and that she’d take her $300 in credit toward a new mattress. I spent the whole next day basically wrangling with her over what she wanted and eventually she spiked back up to demanding $500 for the damn table.

“Let me just give it back,” I begged. It was not the first, second, or even third time I’d asked to return the thing but this time she finally relented and gave me her address. Since she lived with her parents still I’d never been over.

I called up my beloved and said, “Hey, I need moral support, can you run an errand with me?”

They agreed which is how we loaded up a self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans DVD collection, and the table from hell into my little car together. Jill had said to meet her at one o'clock. I intended to drop everything off at noon and be done with this madness.

But while my beloved and I were on the doorstep leaving everything I heard, “Jill? You’re home early,” through the door. Her mom opened it to peer at us in confusion.

“I was just bringing Jill’s stuff back!” I chirped in alarm.

With little tact and a lot of speed we left her with Jill’s collection of things and then I sped out of there like my tail was on fire. I handed my phone to my beloved as I zoomed away instructing them to block Jill’s number. I was free. The tabletross around my neck had been returned.

It was about a month after that when my beloved and I officially began dating exclusively. I had wrapped up all my messy dating threads and it was a relief to be in a relationship again. They went on a trip to Mexico shortly after we made it official.

So I knew they were out of town. But next morning I walked out to my car and beheld a lipstick kiss pressed to the drivers side window.

I was petrified. I had just dumped three girls at once and had an extremely messy back and forth with one of them. Did I have a stalker?!

Of the girls, Alice seemed like likeliest candidate, being of a stronger lipstick variety girl than Jill or Snakebites. We had ended things a bit stiffly, but still cordial. She just laughed when I asked if she knew anything about it. “Nope,” she said, “but good luck.”

I’d rather have walked over broken glass then text Jill, and I’d firmly ghosted Snakebites so I was scared to reopen communication to ask if she was stalking me. I had to drop it. But it haunted me, that lipstick kiss.

For months I was jumpy, wondering which of my spurned lovers had done it. And why. Was it a threat? A goodbye? I lay awake thinking about it, worrying about how everyone I’d dated knew where I lived, which car was mine.

Finally, nothing else happened and I moved on. The kiss would remain a mystery and I had to be content with that.

It was a year later when I finally started filling my mom in on my dating escapades that I finally got closure. She was hooting and laughing as I went over the table debacle. Then I paused and added, “And then this kiss showed up on my car.”

“Did you like it?”

“What? No! I’m pretty sure one of them was stalking me! Who else would leave a kiss on my car?”

My mom started bellowing with laughter. “I did!” She wheezed.

Apparently. My mother had been driving by my place. And decided that a cute little gesture would be to leave me a kiss. And then decided to never mention it to me even though she’s never done anything like that previously.

“It scared the crap out of me!” I yelled while she collapsed with helpless laughter. “I thought I had a stalker! How could I possibly have known that was you?!”

“How could I have known you’d just broken up with three girls at once?” She wheezed in rejoinder and like. Fair play.

So that’s how my mom convinced me I had a stalker and I got out of buying a $500 table.

[seonghwaddict]

save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

(Don't You) Steal My Thunder

my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles

Tyler Owens x fem!reader  7k words

summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.

a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.

again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth

masterlist | twisters masterlist

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.

He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.

Tyler Owens is a problem.

And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.

Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.

And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.

It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.

Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.

Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.

But he's just such a fucking asshole.

You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.

Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.

Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.

Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.

You're just doing your job.

The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.

You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).

This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.

And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.

Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.

“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”

“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”

Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.

“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”

His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.

“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”

The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.

By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.

So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.

Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying �� he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.

“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.

"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."

You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.

"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.

"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.

His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.

"I don't drink."

You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.

Not that you want to.

"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.

"I don't drink with you."

He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.

"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.

"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."

His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.

"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."

"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."

He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.

"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"

He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.

"I'm not a fan of you."

Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.

"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.

For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.

"I try."

With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.

"I'd still buy you a beer."

"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.

...

You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.

The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.

This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.

It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.

"Hey, weather girl!"

You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.

"What do you want, Owens?"

Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.

"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."

He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.

Not that you'd been about to.

Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.

You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.

You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.

You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.

It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.

Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.

You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.

"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.

"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."

"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."

You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.

"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)

"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.

The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.

"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."

He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.

"Cameras are off, I swear."

You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.

God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.

You're so, so stupid.

"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."

...

You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.

Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...

But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.

When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.

"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.

"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."

"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."

You pull your eyebrows even further up.

"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"

"Nope. Not familiar."

But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.

You just shake your head and turn away from him.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."

...

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.

The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.

Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.

That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.

Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.

It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.

You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.

But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...

"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.

"What?"

"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."

You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.

"You're shitting me."

Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.

"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.

His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.

It takes you a second too long to realise why.

"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"

"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.

"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."

"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."

The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.

"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."

You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.

"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"

"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."

He is.

He's right now. He's right usually.

Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.

Fuck him.

Fuck him.

"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."

You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.

He puts the bill flat on the bar top.

But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.

"The price just went up", he says.

You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.

"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"

He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.

"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.

A kiss.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.

Especially with that forecast.

The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.

"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."

...

At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.

"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.

"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."

"But it collapsed this morning."

You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.

"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"

You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.

"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."

...

You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.

You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.

You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.

He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.

And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.

It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.

"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.

"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.

"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"

"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."

Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.

"Alright, so we wait."

You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.

"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."

You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.

It makes reading close to impossible.

Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.

That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.

You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.

You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.

Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.

Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.

But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.

You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?

So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.

For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.

"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.

"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."

Well, it's hard to break bad habits.

Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?

Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.

"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.

Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.

You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.

"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:

"So I'm Watson, yeah?"

Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.

It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.

You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.

"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.

Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.

And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.

"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."

"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.

Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.

You want more of Tyler Owens.

"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.

"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"

"I could never."

"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."

His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.

"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."

His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.

"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."

And then your lips are on his.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.

He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.

You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.

"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.

"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.

But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.

You chuckle against his lips.

"If you feel it, chase it, right?"

[fruithoughts]

PRINCESS TREATMENT

‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤh. joshua x fem!reader  ⪩⪨

01.ㅤۗㅤ𝙼ember .  ⎯⎯⎯  joshua.

02.ㅤۗㅤ𝙲𝚆 .  ⎯⎯⎯ multiple pet names, possessive thoughts, mentions of blowjobs(m.) and sex, just a very gentle guy who loves his girl more than anything.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua whose instagram is filled to the brim with pictures of his beautiful girl, sometimes he forgets to tag you but it’s okay because it takes no sherlock holmes to figure out your username since he only follows your account and a naruto fanpage. 

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who wants you to meet his parents in less than a month into the relationship, it’s extremely important to him to make it as clear as possible that he is serious about you, leaves no room for overthinking at all, always a step ahead of you in the “would you still love me if i was a worm?” department, the best boy indeed. 

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who would rather take a bullet than let you pay for literally anything, because how dare you even suggest paying for your own things? as if you don’t know the only reason he works so hard it’s exactly so he can pamper you endlessly? the absolute nerve of you, better get on your knees and start apologizing.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who is the sassiest and most dramatic guy you’ve ever been with, but can not for the life of him handle the thought of you doing any work at all, in every aspect, which, ironically, sometimes makes you work even harder to get what you want.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who makes it the world’s most difficult challenge to accept receiving head from you for the first time, he enjoys being the one doing all of the work to make you feel good, he just couldn’t see how blowing him off would please you at all so he kept denying(while completely ignoring the tent forming rapidly in his grey sweatpants) until you begged too sweetly, so softly, looking at him with so much adoration and love, like you wanted nothing more than to please him, he could have finished right there but instead he shook his head and sat down in the bed, ready to give his princess anything she could ever want, just like he promised he would! even if what she wanted was to kneel in front of him and try to fit his thick cock into her little mouth for a while.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who uses every opportunity that stumbles across his way to show off his huge arms, it’s a win-win scenario, he gets to feel all hot and manly and you get to hold onto your boyfriend’s strong biceps everywhere you go and get carried on bride style after a night out that, honestly, didn’t even leave you that drunk, but since he offered to carry you, who would ever say no?

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who adores your nails and is always super excited to see the results of your nail appointments, asks for pictures during the whole process, sends you food when it’s taking too long, and finally when the nails are done, he’s there to pick you up in his shiny car, more than ready to do the last step of your nail day, which is putting them to the test, the scratch test. 

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who just can’t help but adore when you leave him all marked up, he loves it, and how can you blame him? was he supposed to be normal about having proof straight on his body of just how good he made you feel last night? how could you even consider he'd do such a thing? this man is not normal about you in general. 

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who knows your entire wardrobe like the back of his hand, half of it because he bought it, the other half because of how often he’s watching you, definitely a “i look at you more often than you think” kinda guy. he’s very proud of just how well he knows his baby.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who remembers all of your food preferences and orders, knows all of your allergies, all of your icks and all of your friend’s gossips because he’s just so well behaved! he won't tell anyone, he never would! he's your joshy! you can trust him to keep all of your secrets, forever.

⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who’s very open about the fact that he wants to marry you, live the rest of your lives together, maybe with a kid if you’re into that, maybe just dogs if that’s better for you, he got his own wishes when it comes to creating a family, but at the end of the day; this man has one priority, and she has a name. whatever is best for you, it’s the best for him.

⪩⪨ husband!joshua who no matter how long it has passed since you got married, has not lost even a little bit of his obsession with you. his precious flower, his cute little thing, his darling, his sweet girl, that’s all you’ll ever be to him, all his to love and protect, forever.

[oceantornadoo]

bad day (simon riley x reader, best friends to lovers)

honestly, you should have seen it coming. staying in a safe house with four men who have never ending stomachs? but today, it was the last straw.

“you ate my last cookie?”

soap’s face dropped, jaw open. your voice was on the verge of breaking, tears forming in your eyes. you never showed this much vulnerability in front of the team, and he was flabbergasted. he shot a look at gaz, who was equally as confused. “‘m sorry, bonnie, i didnae ken-“ you pushed your hands on the table, shoving your chair back and out. “it’s ok. gonna take a nap.” you were wiping your eyes furiously, feeling unstable. first you got your period four days early (asking price to add pads to the shopping list was something you never wanted to experience again), then you couldn’t find your heating pad, and now your cookies were out? maybe it was the hormones, but you were done.

“oof.” you had ran into a thick wall. scratch that, the wall was moving. your vision was blurred by tears you refused to shed that you didn’t even realize it was your closest friend ghost. “dove?” you hiccuped. why did he always have to be so nice to you? gruff and mean-sounding to everyone else, but an avid listener and sweet talker when it came to you. “jus’ trying to get to my room, didn’t see you. sorry l.t..” you tried to maneuver around him, but unfortunately a 6’4 machine of a man did not move easily.

“why you cryin’, baby?” shit, simon did not mean to call you that. he did not want to have this conversation right now, especially when you looked like you were about to break down. you were always so strong, having to work ten times harder as a woman in the military, and he was always careful to not undermine you or your struggles. unfortunately, that landed him firmly in the friendzone for the past year, unable to confess his feelings without breaking your trust. he maneuvered you to the closest room, which happened to be his. he sat down on the bed, intending to sit you down next to him, but instead you still stood, walking in between his parted legs.

“‘m sorry, just on my period and everything hurts and it’s all hitting at once.” your eyes were red, avoiding his. he could see you were in pain, and as someone who had endured enemy torture and the hardest forms of training, his heart never hurt as much as it did now. he reached a gloved hand towards your face, brushing away your tears. his other hand came to your lower belly, rubbing circles over your clothes. “shhh, ‘s okay. you wanna sit down?” you shook your head in disagreement. you felt like a child, but you were never allowed to be weak outside of your own room. for some reason today, you let simon riley see you weak.

you walked around his body and laid on top of his covers, curling into a fetal position. he let you get comfy, finding a way to lay down that lessened your cramps. finally, you were done moving. “si?” you never called him that unless you absolutely needed him. he got up and locked the door, not wanting to disturb your peace. “yeah, baby?” might as well use it now, you hadn’t complained. if anything your face softened when he said it, and simon riley would die a thousand deaths just to see a moment of relief on your face. “will you lay with me?”

he eagerly stripped out of his gear, climbing on top of his bed to lay down with you. he placed a hand on your arm, letting you choose where you wanted him. you dragged his hand under your sweatshirt, using it like a heating pad for your cramps. you let out a soft moan of pleasure and he answered it with a low growl, pulling you into him by the stomach. his thumb caressed your bare skin with small circles, memorizing every dip and valley. he strived to commit the moment to memory, not knowing if you’d ever be this vulnerable again. “feel better, dove?” you nodded, finally succumbing to sleep that had evaded you the past night. he smiled under his mask, placing a small kiss to the back of your head.

finally you were at peace, and all because of him.

[luludeluluramblings]

SugarBaby!Reader (Neglected!Bat!Sibling) x Tony Stark - Falling in Love

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Someone wanted more fluff of this and I had thoughts about it last night. Tony isn’t my favorite, but I kinda wanted to challenge myself with this and see if I could try it writing some romance.

A/N: Smalltown!Reader is still coming. Pregnant!Reader will be getting a part 2 at some point. Might post another series, the one army dreamer inspired, because why not? Gonna have sooo many WIPs. But, maybe they’ll give y’all some delight.

Warnings: GN!Reader, Mentions of bedroom activities, fluffy, not edited, hardly anything Yandere. Intended to be

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

When you and Tony started dating it had been after he had wooed you at some gala. Something for a long forgotten charity. You had initially been hesitant, knowing his play boy reputation. The one so eerily similar to your father’s Brucie Wayne persona.

Still he was charming, good looking, and had convinced you that one night wouldn’t hurt.

And, it hadn’t. The next day when you were about to crawl out of bed and begin your walk of shame, he had dragged you back. Taking his time repeating the night before and with an encore.

By the time you had finally been allowed to leave the bed, your stomach had let out an embarrassing growl that made your cooling skin flush once more.

Of course, Tony wasn’t going to let anyone he spent such a good time with go hungry. Ordering the two of you room service and a giant spread of breakfast.

It’s in that moment things start to shift. You were a good lay for Tony. A young pretty little thing that was some of the best he had had in a while. (Due to him mellowing out with age, not that he’d ever admit that.) But, it’s the way you look at him, shyly and with such genuine gratitude just for him buying to brunch that makes him stop.

Not pause. Because pause means he’ll end up playing again. And, he’s fairly certain he’s done playing. Because, when you happily sit in his button down shirt, munching on the food he bought you, and listen to him talk about an old project (he wasn’t dumb enough to share anything new he’d been working on) with such bright eyes and enthusiasm he realizes this might be trouble for him. It’s even cuter because he knows you don’t understand a single thing he’s saying, but you’re trying. You’re trying so hard and it’s so cute.

It keeps going on like that. Passionate nights and slow talkative mornings that morph into date nights and fun trips and days lounging together. You’re still honestly convinced it could all end at any moment. Nothing good last in your life. And, despite how desperately you want this to last you know it probably won’t. Still you swear to hold on. To take everything he’ll offers. Even if it’s not much and he leaves you in the end. You’re going to appreciate how full and fulfilled her makes you feel.

For you, you fall in love slow and overtime. It a soft and startling realization when you realize you love Tony. You love him dearly and he could break your heart into a million pieces. But, it would be worth it.

You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Loving him and waiting for him. To leave.

For Tony, it’s similar. He spoils you he does. He loves the way you look at him when he does. But, as he unknowingly starts to settle, the realization that he’s not showing you off in public as much anymore and that he enjoys just being near even when there’s nothing to talk about hits him in the chest. And, in a Tony Stark like fashion, he spirals for a bit.

It causes him to spend three full days in his lab avoiding the world and his problems. Not sleeping, hardly eating, ignoring Jarvis.

When he finally does emerge, he’s covered in sweat and grease. He aches. He’s tired. He’s irritable. His fully expecting you to be mad he missed your fancy date he had planned. But, when he looks up at you and see’s that exact same grateful look in your eyes, it clicks. You give him that same look of gratitude and adoration every time he does something for you. He’s not doing anything other than being here with you. And, that’s enough for you. You’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you. And your willing to love him as his is and with what ever he gives.

Tony doesn’t confess though. To cliche. Instead he proposes. With no ring, no plan, and covered in grease. But, completely serious. It isn’t long until you understand he really means it, that he wants you for you and you’re leaping in his arms crying, yes. Yes. And the. You tell him to shower, because despite the love you feel and your happiness, he smells ripe.

He chases you around instead, before dragging you into the shower with him.

It isn’t until you both have a small private court house ceremony and he’s dragging you on to a luxury honeymoon that he leans over and confesses. Casually. Like it was a stray fact.

“Oh, hey, by the way, I love you.”

It makes you squawk that he has the audacity to do such a thing, but you lean into him and say it back.

“I love you, too… Silly old man.”

“Hey! That’s not what you were saying when I-“

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You hadn’t even thought about you family with Tony. Hadn’t thought to invite them to the wedding. You did call Alfred as soon as you got back though. Telling him the good news with so much happiness that the old Bulter cried when the call ended. You had sounded radiant, and it broke his heart.

Broke his heart that no one in the family had seen just how beautiful your joy was and that they had never bothered to cause it.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Based off this ask.

[unequivocallyreid]

Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

it has been SO long... i was suffering from serious writers block but it think i'm finally out of it :)

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer Reid used to be your best friend, but things changed. How long can you pretend that you don't love him before it ruins you?

warnings: angst! (with a happy ending), smut (unprotected piv), character loss, mention of Maeve, very sad Spencer, mental health struggles, drinking/bar scene, light choking, fighting, slight praise kink

wc: 8.8k 🤗

i’m very proud of this one! i hope you love it!

Every morning when you wake up, you feel a familiar and creeping sort of dread in the pit of your stomach.

Don’t get the wrong idea; you love your job. You love helping people and stopping horrible people from ruining any more lives, but the creeping feeling and desire to get out is always in the corner of your mind. Anyone working in this field would tell you that. There’s no absolute separation between you and the victims and their families. You take all of them home with you, and you just have to learn how to deal with that and not let it eat at you.

It doesn’t help that it’s an isolating job as well. The last time you were in a serious relationship was in college. Now, every date you have ends in disappointment. Not only do you lack interest in most of the men and women, but it couldn’t go anywhere even if you did. 75% of your time is spent in the office, on a jet, or hundreds of miles away from your home.

All of this contributes to the feeling, but the worst part of your job is Dr. Spencer Reid.

He’s secretive and dismissive and just about the most attractive person you’d ever seen. You honestly don’t know what is worse: his constant physical presence in your life or the fact that you can’t stop thinking about him no matter what you do. You’ve tried to get over it; you’ve buried yourself in work, lamented to your friends, and gone out on dates (all with guys that looked vaguely similar), but nothing has worked. All his worst traits grate your nerves and light you up at the same time.

The worst part of it all is that it wasn’t always like this. When you first joined the BAU nearly two years ago, you and Spencer got along well. You were friends, he talked to you about his life, he understood you, and you really severely fell for him. He became your best friend.

Everything changed around six months ago. Spencer started to develop migraines, and as those developed, he started distancing himself from you. He became snippy and closed off, he started hiding things from you, and he stopped talking to you about life outside of Quantico. It was like overnight, you became nothing to him, and you really didn’t understand. Everyone else on the team got the same old Spencer, but you went from his right-hand man to someone he only spoke to when it was necessary.

Maybe he didn’t deserve to be vilified. You know, realistically, he can and should be able to decide who he wants to be close to, but working with a man who unknowingly broke your heart was close to the hardest thing you’d ever done. So, you decided hating him was easier. The real emotions you feel toward him sit somewhere inside you, but they have been covered by manufactured distaste. Addressing the actual feeling would hurt too bad, so you pretend to hate the things you used to love.

Nothing, however, could have prepared you for the last case you worked on: helping Spencer save a girl he met about six months ago, a girl he loved. You tried to stay collected, you said nothing when Spencer assisted when he shouldn’t have, and goddamn, did you do everything in your power to find that girl. Maeve. She was perfect for Spencer, and you saw that immediately. Everyone did. The sight of him sobbing in front of her body is one that will never leave your mind.

Now, two weeks later, no one has heard from Reid. The only indication that he hasn’t abandoned his life altogether is the absence of the gift baskets on his doorstep that Pen leaves daily.

Nearly everyone has been to his apartment, but they are met with a closed door and have yet to receive a response. Everyone but you.

Penelope is the first to bring up your lack of appearance at the end of a long day of paperwork.

“Y/n, please, you just have to try. No one is getting anything from him.”

“I really don’t think my presence would do any good,” you pause for a moment, trying to collect the thoughts running through your head like a freight train. “Me and him haven’t been close in a long time, Pen.”

Before you can continue, she cuts in, “Everyone has tried, Y/n. Hell, I’ve even considered tracking down Gideon, and I really, really do not want to do that.”

She pauses for a moment before looking up at you with a pout on her face, “Please, Y/n, for me. I can’t bear the thought of him in there all alone, just wasting away in grief.”

For someone who claims not to be a profiler, Penelope knew exactly what to say to get you to agree. She’s the only person in your life who you told about how you felt, though you’re sure everyone else (aside from Spencer) knew: you’re shit at keeping secrets.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”

She nearly bursts with excitement, “Thank God-“

You cut her off before she can finish, “But I’m telling you, I’m not the person he wants to hear from right now. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Yes, yes. I just want him to know we all want him to be okay.”

Before you can hurry out of the office to follow Pen’s instructions, she stops you and hands you a basket full of assorted snacks and fruits.

“Make sure he eats!”

The walk up to Spencer’s apartment is a hard one to take. The smell of his building hits you as soon as you step into the lobby. From there, everything rushes back at once. Memories of nights you spent watching reruns of Doctor Who or listening to him prattle off about whatever he last read assault you with every step. As you slowly make your way up, you start to question why you agreed to do this in the first place.

You feel a lot toward Reid. More than you should and less than you could. But all that care and feelings that are so close to love aren’t enough to make you forget why you’ve been trying to hate him for so long. He deserted you without an explanation and cut you off without a warning. You spent weeks (three months) crying over him like a love-struck teen. So, as much as you want to hold him and comfort him, you know it’ll hurt you to do so. Penelope sent you, with the whole team’s approval, you’re sure, to try to patch up a broken heart he got loving someone else. There’s a sickness in your gut, but it’s not enough to stop you from rapping your knuckles against his door.

“Spencer? It’s Y/n.”

There’s no response.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, but I want to make sure you’re alright. Can you tell me you’re alright?”

Again, nothing.

You know he’s there. Despite your lack of communication, you know Spencer well enough to know that he would never leave his life behind entirely. That being said, your next few attempts at garnering a response are unsuccessful.

You decide to try one final time before just leaving the basket alone on his doorstep and texting Pen it was a bust.

“There’s a lot I don’t know about you now, and I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling.”

You don’t exactly know where this is headed, but you continue on regardless.

“I know you’re in there, and I know you can hear me, and I know you’re hurting. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you to be alone right now, Spence. You can either unlock your door, or I can pick it, but I’m coming in one way or the other. You know I will.”

You wouldn’t, actually. It’s a last-ditch effort, and it’s met with the same silence you’ve heard on the other side for the past ten minutes. You’re about to turn to head back down the stairs when you hear the very faint sound of a deadbolt turning.

There’s no other sound or movement, and for a moment, you think you might’ve imagined the sound, but you try the handle anyway. It turns, and the door slides open. You take a step in.

“Spencer,” you call out to him.

You don’t see him at first in the mess of his apartment, but when you do, you feel a crack form in your heart.

Beyond the clutter of his entryway, you see his back on the couch. His frame looks smaller than you’ve ever seen it, and you can see his legs curled into his chest. You set down the gift basket by a collection of others on the entry table and walk over to him. Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook a lost dog, you creep in front of him.

His head is down, and his gaze stays trained on his knees.

You reach out your hand and lay it over his. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“Spence, I’m so glad you opened the door.”

You didn’t plan out what you would say, but ‘sorry’ feels redundant and useless.

You go on, “I’m here. I- I don’t know what to do or say, and I’m sorry that I don’t. I can get someone else for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

You wait for him to say he wants Penelope or JJ, but it doesn’t come. Nothing comes. You start to move to get up, figuring you could clean up a bit and try to make him something to eat, then go, but he grasps your arm before you can.

He looks up at you, and his eyes hit you right in the gut. They’re bloodshot and sunken but still beautiful.

“Stay. Please. I just- I need to know I’m not dreaming. I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”

His voice is croaky from disuse and breaks at the end, but it’s so heartbreakingly earnest that you feel your breath catch. You move from your crouch and sit beside him on the couch; your hand is still in his.

You stay like that for a long time. His breathing is shakey and uneven, and every so often, his body shakes with what you can only assume are sobs. You stay pressed to his side the whole time, thumb rubbing back and forth over his hand.

Eventually, you speak again, “I’m gonna get you some food, Spence. You should eat.”

He says nothing back, but he does loosen his grip. You push yourself up from the coach with a promise you’ll be as fast as possible.

His kitchen is nearly empty, and you hope he’s been eating from the baskets. Still, you find enough to make noodles and butter, and you figure the carbs should help his energy some.

You return with the bowl. Spencer hasn’t moved, but his head follows you as you walk back over to him.

“It’s not fine dining.”

He studied you for a second, and you catch a glimpse of the old him in his eye.

“You did the same thing when I was sick on a case a year ago.”

You smile at his recollection.

“It helped you then.”

The rest of the night is spent mostly in silence. Occasionally, you tell him something to try to remind him that you’re there and that you won’t leave as long as he wants you there. Eventually, you get up from the couch again.

“Spencer, it’s too late to still be awake.”

He nods and still says nothing, but he is far more receptive than before. You reach your hand out to him to help him up from the couch, and he takes it.

He leads you to his room at a slow pace. His head stays down as you both take a seat on his bed, hands still interlocked. Being in his bedroom is odd for you. You’ve been to his apartment quite a few times before he disappeared from your life, but you never breached this space. It’s all very him. Almost surprisingly cozy, with books scattered around nearly everywhere there’s space.

You take in the moment for a beat before saying, “I’m gonna head home, Spencer, but please call me if you need anything at all. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

This makes his head snap up, and his eyes lock with yours.

“Please stay.”

That’s all he says, but every part of him is pleading with you. It’s not a good idea, and you know it. You’re the only person he’s seen in days, you aren’t close anymore, and you don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch tonight.

“Spencer, I don’t want to sleep in your living room tonight. I’ll come back.”

He pauses for a moment, “You can stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

Your heart cracks again. There was a time when this was all you wanted. It’s still, deep down, all you want, just not like this. You know he doesn’t really want you there and he’s not himself. But you aren’t strong enough to say no, so you don’t.

He gets you clothes to wear, and you change in his bathroom. You come out and find him in his bed, laying with his back to you. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you get into bed next to him anyways. There are a thousand thoughts racing through your head, but the prevailing one is how badly you want to touch him, to hold him, to make him forget, just for the night. You stay still, though, confined to the edge of the bed and start to count to drown out the noise.

Though, you can’t drown out his voice, saying, “Can- Could you hold me? I think that everything feels better when you touch me.”

Another crack. By the end of this, you know Spencer Reid is going to break your heart all over again.

~

When you wake up the next morning, Spencer is still asleep. You sneak out of his room and call Hotch. When he answers, you tell him Spencer has let you in, and you ask for time off to try to help. You can tell from his voice that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he grants you it anyway.

Much of your day is spent like the night before. You stay next to Spencer, and you cook for him after leaving to pick up clothes and groceries. Then, you get him to shower and wash his hair. He sleeps with his head in your lap, and you feel like a fucking idiot at first, but as long as it’s helping him in some way, you let it happen.

That’s the thing: you don’t really know how to help him. You know he isn’t the type to talk about something until he is entirely ready, so all you can do is add something domestic and bright to his life while he grieves. It’s all you can think about in the moments of silence. Hell, you even read to him to try and get your mind off of it, but it barely helps.

The night is the same. You change in different rooms and slip into his bed at different times. You feel dirty for imagining what it would be like if the circumstances were different: if he wanted you like you have wanted him for the past two years. You hold him against you, and you pray for sign that you should be there.

The sign comes the following morning when Derek calls you.

“Y/n…”

You can hear his teasing tone over the phone.

“Hi, Derek.”

“What are you doing, mamas?”

You sigh, “What do you mean?”

You’re playing coy. You know he’s wondering why you’re at Spencer’s house, picking up the pieces, but you won’t be the one to bring it up.

“Why’d you ask Hotch for the week off, Y/n?”

Another sigh, “You know why, Derek. I just, I want to help him.”

“I know you do, Y/n, I know.”

He pauses for a moment, and you let the moment fill with silence.

“I know you care about him. We all care about him. But who is taking care of you?”

“I am. I can take care of him, and I can take care of me.”

“I know you can, but I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/n. Don’t let this be something that hurts you.”

“It won’t. I- You have to- Fuck, I’ll be fine. He’s not fine. I don’t care about me or any feelings that may get hurt right now. I’ll be fine.”

There’s another bear of silence, “Okay, Y/n. Just know you’re allowed to tap out.”

You try to think of anything else to say, but nothing comes, so you say your goodbyes.

You won’t need to tap out. You can take care of him and be good to him and ignore the other feelings you have. You can be good.

The call does make you think it’s time to push, to try harder, to help him get better. So, you approach him that day before bed, before he tucks himself into your arms and falls into a fretful sleep.

“Spencer?”

He takes a moment and then responds, “Yes?”

“You have to talk about it. I think that you need to talk about it. It doesn’t have to be to me but to someone.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and your breath is caught in your throat, waiting for him to say anything.

“I- I don’t want to,” his voice cracks while he says it.

“Spence, you can’t come back if you don’t. You can’t move forward if you don’t.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

A ringing echos in your ears.

“You don’t mean that. She- she would want you to keep going.”

Wrong thing to say.

“You don’t know anything about what she would want.”

He’s seething now, below the surface, but smoke has started to plume from his ears. Still, you don’t stop.

“Spencer, everyone knows that. No one would want you to put your life on hold.”

He speaks his next line through his teeth, “You don’t know anything, Y/n.”

You’ve never heard him sound so angry.

“Spencer-“

“No, just stop. You don’t know her. You don’t know me half as well as you think you do. You don’t know anything. I don’t even know why you’re here. I don’t want you here. You can't be what I need.”

The ringing in your ears is louder.

“Spencer, please. Just-“

“No!” His voice is raised now, bordering on a yell, “I don’t want you here. I want you out, Y/n.”

This has to be what shell shock feels like. The ringing, the tingle in your limbs, and the heat in your face. You don’t know how you are moving, but you are.

His voice is echoing in your head, or maybe he’s still talking, but you can’t tell either way. The only thing you can focus on is how Spencer sounded like he hates you and that Morgan was right about the hurt.

~

You spend the next day trying desperately to shut down the noise in your head. It doesn’t work. The day after is the same. And the days following that. You ignore calls when they come, you ignore the texts, but you can’t stop looking at your phone for a message from the man who fills your thoughts.

Spencer doesn’t call, obviously, and you have to sit with a pit in your stomach while you beg yourself to just get the fuck over it. Two years of reckoning with the severity of your love, months of watching him live happily without you, and it’s the three days you spent trying to help him feel incrementally better that floor you.

You feel like a dumb teenage girl with so much love and nothing to do with it. On top of everything, you feel selfish. Spencer lost the love of his life forever, and you’re nursing the worst heartbreak of your life because a boy will never want you and never has. Still, you send out prayers for him over and over. You hope you’ll see him in the BAU again, even if his eyes glaze over you. Hell, even if they look at you with hate the way they did two days ago. You just want him to function. You want him to be good and eventually be happy. You try to go to bed with soothing thoughts, but you end up with a mantra of his name.

You wake to your alarm and dress for work before you realize you aren’t actually supposed to go back yet. You never set a date to return. You wanted to be open as long as Spencer needed you. You’re supposed to be with him. You’re supposed to be helping and not tapping out. But you aren’t.

You have no reason not to return to the bullpen, so you do. You walk in and feel eyes on you. You wait for Morgan to call out to you, but he doesn’t, so you follow the feeling.

Your breath catches in your throat; it’s Spencer. He’s sitting at his desk, paperwork spread out, and he doesn’t look away from your gaze; he just holds it. His face is unreadable, and yours is definitely not, so you look away first. You don’t look up again until you reach Hotch’s office. You knock and hear him call out to come in.

“I’m back if that’s okay.”

He looks up at you, and you want to cry. You know he can read you. He has always been the best at it.

“Are you okay with that, Y/l/n?”

You lock eyes with him, “Yes, sir.”

It’s no use; he knows your tells and you aren’t being honest.

“Alright, conference room in five.”

Whatever he sees in your face, he ignores and takes you at your word, but there’s a warning in his tone. He knows when to let things go and when to push. More than that, though, he knows you’d never let something like this affect your work.

~

The first case back is in Maryland, and the one after is in Austin, and the next is in Philadelphia with The Replicator. The job takes you all over the country, and the cases blend together. You don’t speak to Spencer through all of it. You’re never partnered, never work together, you sit on opposite ends of the jet. You don’t even speak at Strauss’ funeral. It’s radio silent, and everyone notices it, but no one brings it up.

In that time, you allow yourself to slip away slightly. You don’t go out with the team, you see Pen at nearly half frequency, and basically, the only time you speak is on cases. It’s stupid and melodramatic, but you call it healing. Derek tries to reason with you, JJ sticks to you a bit more than usual, and Penelope calls you virtually whenever she can, but their efforts are mostly in vain. This is your way of protecting yourself. You feel like you have to isolate in order to improve, and you know, given time, you will come back to yourself.

Penelope’s insistence that you go to her Day of the Dead celebration breaks your distance.

“Y/n, please come. I know you aren’t going out, but you have to. I know you have people to honor, and I need you there.”

You sigh, “Whose going, Pen?”

“The team, which you are a part of, so you must be there.”

“I don’t think I can do that. I promise you I will celebrate with you. I’ll help you set up, just please don’t make me go.”

Penelope pauses, but the glint in her eye keys you into the fact that she is not interested in giving up.

“We miss you, Y/n. Everyone loves you and misses you. You’ve been living this stupid, isolated life, and it’s time for you to come back. You are not this person. I refuse to believe it. You’re coming, and that’s final.”

Maybe you don’t have the energy to argue, or maybe you know she’s right, but you agree to go.

~

The thought of seeing him makes your heart race, and the clock you keep glancing at makes it worse. Just a few more hours before you're trapped in a confined space (Pen’s beautiful home) with a man you haven’t spoken to in weeks.

You busy yourself with preparing. Lights are hung, food is made, and you make a trip to the store while Pen sets up her remembrance table. When everything is said and done, you can’t help but feel this is the most beautiful thing you’ve been a part of in a long time.

The first knock comes at 7:30 exactly, and it’s Hotch and Rossi. They are followed closely by Blake, then Derek and JJ. By 7:00, the atmosphere is light and loving, and you feel a bit of your anxiety let up as the minutes go by without Reid. But, eventually, the knock comes, of course it does, and you move into a corner as Spencer walks in. You feel a shift in energy, though you doubt it’s palpable for anyone else. Rossi is the first to make his way over to you, and his presence comforts you nearly immediately.

“How you doing, kid?” His voice is soft like he’s speaking to a scared rabbit.

“I’m better,” you say, and it’s about as honest as you can get. As much as you’d like to think he knows nothing about what’s gone on, you’re smarter than that. He’s the best profiler on the team, and he’s always known when someone was off with you. Even so, you are better than you were, even if you aren’t quite good, and you know he believes you.

There’s some idle conversation between you before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not tonight. I don’t know when, but I will. Eventually, I will.”

It’s good enough for him, and you move on easily, which surprises you.

Right before Pen gathers you all to present your photos, he says, “Sometimes we think we’ve seen the whole picture, but we miss a big part. People do things because they don’t want to be hurt, but those things hurt them more. Just, be open.”

You don’t quite understand what he means, but you hope you will.

Penelope presents the first picture, which shows her parents. JJ honors her sister, Derek, his dad, Hotch Haley, and Rossi, Hernandez; then it’s your turn. You place down a photo of your best friend. You hadn’t talked much about her, but you think of her daily. She passed a few years before you joined the BAU.

“I was lucky to have someone that hurt that much to lose.”

That’s all you say, but it’s enough for you, and it would be enough for her.

Spencer is last. He places down a picture of Tesla and a picture of Maeve. Your heart is heavy for everyone.

The night dwindles from there. Hotch and Rossi say their goodbyes, and Rossi gives you a knowing look as he leaves. You just smile. You stay for a few minutes after, but eventually, you move to leave as well.

You make it down Garcia’s porch before you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn, and it’s Spencer’s face you see.

“Would you- Do you think you could come over? Do you think we could talk?”

~

The feeling you have walking up to Spencer's apartment is similar to what you felt the last time. You’re incredibly anxious, but at least you know you’ll be let in this time.

The drive over was silent. Spencer had taken the metro to Penelope’s, so he rode with you. It wasn’t necessarily awkward. There was just an understanding that the car wasn’t the place to begin your conversation.

Now, as Spencer unlocked his door, it’s one of those rare moments you felt starved for words, and you know it’s because you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing and face the same reaction that you did the last time you were in his home.

He leads you to his living room and motions for you to sit, and you do. The two of you are on opposite ends of his couch while you wait for him to say something.

His first words are airy and light, “Thank you for letting me talk to you.”

You look at him but remain silent, waiting for him to go on. All you can think about is why he wants to speak to you at all. The last time you spoke, he made it incredibly clear he did not want you in his life or around him at all.

Before you can think about it more and let your anger and sadness build, he speaks again, “I feel really stupid right now. I kind of feel stupid whenever I’m around you recently.”

He pauses momentarily before going on, “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. About the last time we spoke. I’ve been thinking about it pretty constantly for the past few weeks.”

You open your mouth, unsure of what exactly to say, but you can’t get there before he’s off again.

“I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore. I don’t think I’ve known how to for a long time. I just, I need you to know how sorry I am for speaking to you like that.”

He takes a shakey breath but keeps going, “That wasn’t me, and that isn’t how I feel. I’m just unbelievably sorry, Y/n.”

He stops there, and you work to collect your thoughts.

“I know. A part of me knows, at least, that you didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be there for you, and hearing that made me- I just- I think it made me hate myself for wanting to be there.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m unbelievably sorry.”

“You didn’t talk to me for months, Spencer. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you let me in in the first place. I thought you hated me.”

He’s silent for a long minute.

“I never hated you, Y/n. I just stopped knowing how to act around you, and then I met Maeve. I fell so deep into it that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I- And I just started to feel like you didn’t want me to speak to you, so I didn’t. But, when you came here, after everything, I guess I just felt like you were the only person who would get it. You never, no one on the team ever treated me or talked to me how you did. I just wanted that.”

Tears had begun to well in your eyes now. A part of you gets what he means, at least about letting you in, but the other part is so confused as to why he stopped being comfortable around you.

“I don’t understand, Spencer. Why did you stop knowing how to be around me?”

There’s desperation in your voice that makes you sound like a stranger to yourself. Maybe you’re a stranger to everyone right now.

“I uh, I don’t really know.”

“That's not fair, Spence.”

You’re crying now. Just a little bit, but you can feel the wetness on your cheeks. You can see that you are by the look on his face. He looks broken, and you know it's a reflection of your own image.

You wipe your face, “Thank you for apologizing, Spencer. I just, there are parts of this all that I don’t understand, and if you can't explain them to me, I don’t think I ever will.”

“Y/n-,” he calls out your name like a prayer.

“It’s okay, Spence. You don’t have to say anything more. We talked, and things will go back to how they were eventually.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

You smile sadly as you get up to leave.

“I am, too, for what it's worth. For whatever I did to make things change in the first place.”

You leave it at that, and it takes everything in you not to look back as you leave his apartment.

~

Things do get easier after that. Not completely. You still love him, and it hurts, but it helps to know he doesn’t hate you. He talks to you some, cordial things, and you do the same. You're sure your teammates still sense something is off, but this works for you. Right now, it works. Getting over him, not loving him anymore, is going to take work, but eventually, you know that you won’t hurt anymore.

Shortly after you and him talked, you started going back out with your friends. Spencer joined periodically, but that was normal. Bars were never really his scene.

Tonight, everyone gathers at your local pub. Your last case was particularly grueling, and you all need a way to blow off some steam. It's fun, and you feel good, even with Spencer sitting across from you. You feel proud of yourself for getting to this point.

JJ and Penelope feed you drinks to try and get you to dance, and you let them. Tonight feels as good of a night as any to ‘get back out there’ as Pen says. So, you do. You dance with them, and you ward off the other cops and agents around you who try to pull you away from your group. You aren’t interested in that. Right now, you're just having an appropriate amount of fun for a woman 15 feet from her boss.

Time goes by quickly, and by the time you get back to the table, you, Derek, Penelope, and JJ remain. He tells you that Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and Alex left a few minutes before. The conversation between you flows for a while, up until the drinks loosen Penelope up enough to bring up what you were pretty sure the team designated a no-no topic.

“Y/n, you have to talk about it.”

You’re still laughing as something Derek said when you reply, “What?”

“You know what. You and Boy-Genius. What on Earth happened? You went from ice-cold to semi-friendly. None of us saw it coming.”

“Babygirl-,” Derek tries to stop her, but you cut him off.

“No, it’s okay. I have to talk about it at some point, and I think right now is the only time I’ll be tipsy enough to let you get it out of me.”

You're still laughing slightly, but the pit that's lived in your stomach for the past few months starts to rear its head.

“After your Day of the Dead party, he asked to talk to me. I went to his place, and he apologized. I don’t really understand what he said or what he meant, but I can’t be sad about him forever.”

Pen perks up a bit at that, “I knew that party would bring good things!”

You giggle a bit at her outburst, but then JJ asks, “What did he say?”

The faces around you all tune in at that. You know they don’t see this as gossip. They care about you both too much to trivialize it like that.

“He just said that he stopped knowing how to act around me, and he didn’t know why, but then he met Maeve, and I guess it didn’t matter so much after that. He was my best friend, and then he was nothing.”

JJ shares a glance with Derek and then speaks, “Oh, Y/n.”

“What?”

After a beat, Derek says, “He didn’t just not know how to act around you.”

Now you're confused, “What do you mean? I talked to him, that's what he said. He didn’t know why. I mean, he knows everything and didn’t know why he didn’t want to be around me anymore. How fucking stupid is that.”

You laugh again, but it does come off as genuine in the slightest.

“Y/n, he probably doesn’t really know why. At least not fully. For someone as smart as he is, the kid can be really stupid.”

“Stop being cryptic.”

Derek sighs but goes on, “Pretty girl, pretty boy was in love with you. Probably still is. He just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”

“No. That's not true.”

You look at the others around you, but their faces are serious.

“He loved Maeve. He loves Maeve. That, that doesn’t make any sense.”

It's JJ’s turn to talk now.

“He definitely did love Maeve, no one is denying that, but we all saw how he was around you. His whole relationship with her was safe. He couldn’t be hurt by her rejection every day because he had no way of seeing her. With you, he could.”

Your mind is moving a mile a minute, “Did he tell you guys this?”

Penelope puts her hand over yours and says, “He didn’t have to, love. We all say the way he looked at you and acted around you. The way he talked about you. That boy was head over heels.”

“Guys, I appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but this isn’t real. Spencer doesn’t- this is not real.”

“Y/n, pause. Think about the way he acted around you, the things he said. Think about how Reid is.”

You hear what Derek said, but it all sounds faint like someone stuffed your ears with cotton while you weren't paying attention. All you can focus on are the different scenes running through your head, the scenes of your life with Spencer in it. How he memorized your coffee order and brought it for you every day, how he never shied away from your touch despite his aversion to contact, how he consistently went out of his way to protect you on the field. At his house after everything, the way he clung to you and wanted to be held. How he said in his own words, “You can't be what I need”; not “you aren’t,” but “you can’t.”

Your whole world is crashing down in this bar, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

“Y/n?”

JJ’s voice snaps you out of your spiral.

“Just go talk to him.”

You nod mutely, and you get up.

~

Everything in the last ten months of your life has led you to the exact spot you were when everything blew up in the first place: Spencer’s door.

This time, you aren't too worried about him not letting you in. If anything, it's the opposite. Him opening this door could open a hundred others, and you don’t quite know if you are ready for any of them. You sit there and sit there and sit there, trying to work up the courage to knock, though you aren’t sure it's there to begin with. Right as you're about to walk away and decide you’ll come back another day, his door swings open.

“Y/n?”

His face is lit up with shock, and you notice his hand that is not on the door is holding his pistol.

“What are you doing here?”

You don’t answer, “Why did you open the door?”

He sets his piece down on the entry table before responding, “I heard footsteps in the hall and saw they stopped here. I was anxious. 50.3% of home invasions happen between 8:00 pm and 7:00 am.” He cuts himself off there, “Y/n, why are you here?”

You didn’t pay attention to anything he said. All you could think about was the way his lips were moving and the way his eyes locked onto yours as he talked.

“Do you love me?”

That is not what you wanted to say.

His lips fall open as he takes in a sharp breath, “What?”

“Or I guess did you love me? Before everything? Because Derek and JJ and Pen, they all said that you loved me, and now I can’t think about anything else, Spencer.”

He doesn’t speak, but you don't really give him a chance to.

“I just, I know I sound crazy right now, but I feel fucking crazy. I keep going over everything in my head, and I have been, for the past year I have been, but now it’s all different. It's all different because they said that you loved me, but you didn’t think I’d feel the same way.”

Here, you do pause, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you go on before you can stop yourself.

“Because if that's true, Spencer, it's just- I did. I do. And if it's not, then please just tell me so I can stop feeling this way.”

He sounds resigned when he says, “Y/n,” and you feel like you know what that means.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I'm doing this. You don’t have to say anything. Actually, please don’t say anything. I don't think I can hear it. Just pretend I never-”

He cuts off your ramble, “Y/n, stop.”

You draw your eyes from the floor, look up at him, and find something in his gaze you have never seen before. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, and it takes everything you have not to look away. His hand raises to cup your jaw, and your skin lights on fire. Before you can process what he’s doing, you feel his lips press against yours, and something clicks. At first, his touch is light, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. But, when he grasps that you won’t, he presses himself to you harder, and all you can think about is how nothing has ever felt so right.

His lips move against yours, and you don’t know how you're managing to reciprocate because it feels like everything in your body has gone fuzzy. The kiss is by no means long, but it feels like it lasts forever, and by the time he pulls away, you’re breathless.

His forehead stays connected to yours, and he whispers, “I do, Y/n, love you. I have.”

You don’t feel the tears on your cheeks until he’s wiping them away.

“Oh, Y/n.”

“Did you know? That you did? Is that why…”

You trail off, hoping he’ll pick up on what you're asking, and he does.

“I didn’t at first, or I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you until it happened. I got scared, so I ran. I just never thought that you could feel the same or that I was hurting you. I didn’t realize that. I just thought I was doing what was best for us. I felt guilty for being in love with my best friend.”

“And Maeve?”

“I loved Maeve. I’ll always have love for her. I was trying to move on, and I thought I could eventually be with her and be around you without it hurting. I wish I would have told you this before.”

“You’re telling me now. That's enough.”

This time, it's you who pushes your lips to meet his. Your arms snake around his neck, and his fall to your waist. You follow when he pulls you into his apartment and closes the door. There is still pain on both sides, but you can feel it dissipating as you cling to each other. You’re just two broken people who have finally found a way to each other.

This kiss is different, hungrier. Neither of you pulls away for longer than a few seconds as you navigate your way from his entryway to his couch. Every touch is desperate like you're searching for something you never knew existed until now. His hands pull you closer and closer until he's pulling you on top of him, and each of your legs rests on opposite sides of his hips.

Your lips break from his for a moment, “What do you want, Spence?”

His reply is instant, “You.”

From there, things move faster. Your hands unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he undoes your pants. There are moments of awkwardness that come with exploring another for the first time, but it feels good. His hands trace over your hips and push further until you're left on top of him in only your underwear and bra. He takes you in like you are something to be marveled at, and you know your eyes reflect the same adoration.

You raise yourself off of him and work to get him in the same state of undress as you, and when you position yourself on top of him, you feel his length press against your center. The two thin layers of fabric do little to hinder the intensity as you rock into him. He lets out quiet moans at the action as his lips trace down your neck and over your collarbone.

His breath ghosts over you and makes you shiver when he asks, “Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

His hand moves between the two of you, and his fingers find your clit easily, rubbing circles over the fabric of your panties. You pant his name against his lips at the action. You feel like your whole body is lit up, and under any other circumstance, you'd feel embarrassed at how worked up you are, but you can’t seem to care.

After a few moments, he lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. From there, he positions you below him on the bed, removing your remaining clothes in the same motion. The new setup lets you grip him, and he feels big in your hand. His fingers resume their previous assault before dipping down into you. You cry out at the feeling of him inside you, slowly pushing in and out, finding a spot that makes your legs start to shake. He’s relentless in his pursuit and all you can muster up the energy to say is his name.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

It's somewhere between a whimper and a whisper, but the sound of his voice causes you to clench around his fingers.

He picks up on this, of course he does, and quickens his pace as he coos at you.

“So pretty like this. I’m so lucky.”

You’re embarrassingly close already, so when he moves his thumb over your clit to rub circles as he fucks into you with his fingers, you come undone almost instantly with a warning and cry of his name. He works you through your orgasm, all while whispering praise in your ear. Once you come down from your high, you start to push his boxers down his legs, but he stops you before you can fully.

“We don’t have to do anything more, Y/n. I liked just making you feel good.”

“I want more. I want to feel you if you want that too.”

“Of course I do. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I couldn’t regret this, Spencer. I love you. I want all of you.”

It's the first time you’ve actually said those three words to him, and it feels so fucking good to say.

“I love you, too. God, so much.”

With that, he positions himself back on top of you, running his fingers over your slit gently before gripping himself.

“Do you have a condom?”

“I might somewhere, but I have an IUD, and I’m clean. I can try to find one if you’re more comfortable with that?”

“IUDs have a failure rate of around .05% and are largely considered the most effective form of birth control, so uh, as long as you're okay with it, I am.”

You smile to yourself at his statistic but nod, “I want to feel you, Spencer.”

He returns your smile before rubbing his length over your entrance a few times and slowly pushing himself into you just slightly. He teases you, or maybe himself, for a moment before fully entering you. You push your hips up to meet his, and feeling him in his entirety makes your jaw fall open. He’s big, and you feel unbelievably full.

He waits a moment for you to adjust before he starts to develop a rhythm. His hands are everywhere, but his eyes are focused solely on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your reaction to him inside of you. To be fair, you are probably putting on a good show. Every movement he makes hits you in exactly the right spot, and you don’t think you could be louder if you tried. You can feel the leg he’s not holding up against his shoulder shake against the bed. Your first orgasm has made way for your second to be incredibly close.

“Spencer, please.”

You’re crying out, desperate for a little more to push you over the edge.

“What do you need, baby?” His voice is tight like he’s not far himself, and it sounds better than anything you’ve ever heard.

“Harder. Please, harder.”

He takes your direction immediately, rubbing circles on your clit with one hand while he thrusts into you with a bruising force. He’s fucking you like he wants you to remember the feeling long after he stops, and you know that you will. Everything about it is overwhelming: his smell, his pace, his eyes. You are covered in him, and he is covered in you.

After a moment, the hand he had on your stomach trails up to grasp lightly at your throat, and you fall into feeling. You can’t warn him that you're about to come before you do. The feeling is white hot. Bigger than your first, and the fact that you're coming on him sends you into overdrive. You can feel his hips falter for a moment, but you're lost in a daze, crying out his name.

He pumps into you a few more times before he follows suit. He pulls out, and you feel stripes of his come paint your cunt and lower stomach as he finishes with a moan of your name.

He falls next to you on the bed, and it takes you both a few moments to collect yourselves and catch your breath.

Once you do, the only thing you can think to say is, “I love you.”

It feels like those are the only words circling around in your head at the moment. Some mixture of his name and that declaration. While you know you each said it before, that your profession was the exigence of the sex you just had, it feels uniquely vulnerable to say now. It’s like the moment you just had together could have changed things or made him realize that he doesn’t actually love you after all.

That shoe doesn’t drop, though. Instead, you hear the three words echoed back to you by a man who, 6 hours ago, you thought would never, ever say them.

You turn to face him, and the love on his face feels like it could knock you out. He’s looking at you and smiling in a way you haven't seen in a long time.

“Will you let me clean you up?”

You know that part of the reason he’s asking has something to do with the likelihood of bacteria growth or something like that, but you think it's mainly that he wants to take care of you. Him wetting a rag and running it over you feels intimate in a different way, in an excruciatingly gentle way. Personal in a way that makes you feel like nothing between you could ever be wrong again, and maybe that's naive to think, but you feel hopeful regardless.

Once he finishes, he takes his space back next to you in the bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms, and it's different than it was all those months ago. This time, you know that he won’t push you away and that you won't hurt yourself by being next to him. This time, you just tuck yourself into him, and you let him whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you begin to drift off. This time, it feels like peace.

~

The following day, you wake up to Spencer still next to you, looking incredibly soft in the early morning light. You search for a moment to find your phone in the piles of clothes and are greeted with a text from Pen.

How did it go????

You smile before turning your phone off and climbing back into bed next to the man you love. It couldn’t have gone better.

-

all done! yay!!!

i hope you guys love it!! i’m not 100% happy with the ending but i’ve been writing this for so long and just needed to be done.

this is my first time writing angst on here and my longest fic, so PLEASE tell me what you think! all (nice) feedback is welcome and i love to hear from you guys!! :)