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mywhisperingwords · 10 days ago

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want your midnights | george f. weasley

summary: you teach george about some muggle traditions word count: 1.6k masterlist

“This Muggle tradition… what exactly is it?” Arthur Weasley asked, his curiosity alight as the Christmas festivities at the Burrow wound down.

“It’s a way to celebrate the end of one year and the beginning of another,” Hermione explained patiently. “It usually involves singing, dancing, and other festivities. People stay up until midnight and count down the seconds. Then they shoot off fireworks.”

At the mention of fireworks, you could almost feel the sharp turn of Fred and George’s gazes toward Hermione. Mr. Weasley’s face lit up with intrigue, his trademark fascination with all things Muggle clearly piqued.

This little discussion had only started because of a casual comment you’d made to Hermione earlier.

Growing up, you’d loved celebrating the holidays with your family—filled with traditions and superstitions that were magical in their own way, even without wands or spells. But now you were older, and though you cherished these memories, you’d started spending the holidays with friends instead. It made sense, but it didn’t make this year any easier—it was your first without your family.

“Finally, a Muggle invention I can get behind,” Fred declared, his voice breaking through your thoughts as he approached with his characteristic grin.

“Seems they weren’t as boring as one might’ve thought,” George added, sidling up beside Hermione. Unlike Fred, though, his gaze was focused on you.

“So, do tell us, Mine,” Fred said, leaning in conspiratorially. “How does one go about celebrating this so-called Muggle tradition?”

Before Hermione could answer, Mrs. Weasley appeared, tea towel in hand, her expression a mix of suspicion and exasperation. “I beg you, Hermione, don’t give them any ideas,” she warned.

Fred and George exchanged a grin that spoke volumes. Whatever ideas were brewing in their minds, they were likely more explosive than Hermione’s explanation.

The talk of New Year’s Eve made you nostalgic, memories of past celebrations with your family surfacing. The pang of longing was sharper than you cared to admit, and perhaps that was why you decided to join the conversation.

“My favorite part has always been the New Year’s resolutions,” you offered quietly.

“What’s that, then?” Arthur asked, his attention swinging to you with the eagerness of a child opening presents.

Before you could answer, Hermione interjected, her tone brisk. “It’s just people setting goals because the calendar changes. Honestly, I think real progress comes from working toward something year-round—not just because it’s January 1st.”

She glanced at you apologetically, realizing too late that her practicality might’ve come across as dismissive. You returned her gaze with a small, reassuring smile. You knew she hadn’t meant any harm—it was just Hermione being Hermione.

“These resolutions,” you explained, “are like promises people make to themselves at the start of the year. It’s a way to mark a fresh start—a chance to become a better version of yourself. I think it’s a beautiful tradition.” A faint smile tugged at your lips.

“Me too,” George said softly, surprising you. His agreement, simple as it was, felt oddly significant.

“What do you think, love?” Arthur asked, turning to Molly with a hopeful smile.

“No Firewhiskey!” she declared firmly, cutting through any mischief before it could take root.

And just like that, plans for a New Year’s Eve party at the Burrow began to take shape—with you and Hermione at the helm.

The Burrow was a flurry of activity. Strings of fairy lights had been charmed to hang themselves across the living room, glowing softly in the dim light. Plates of finger foods hovered over the table, and laughter echoed as Fred and George attempted to enchant a Muggle disco ball.

“You’ll blind someone with that thing!” Ginny hollered from the sofa, shielding her eyes dramatically as the ball emitted a cascade of multicolored sparks.

“Don’t be jealous of our craftsmanship, Gin,” Fred retorted, smirking.

“You mean your craftsmanship. This is clearly my genius,” George corrected, giving the disco ball a smug pat before it spiraled out of control.

Mrs. Weasley bustled past, muttering under her breath as she righted the ball with a quick flick of her wand. “I swear, if anything explodes tonight—”

“We’ll take full responsibility!” Fred called after her, earning a sigh in response.

Despite the chaos, the atmosphere was warm, filled with the kind of energy only the Weasleys could create. Friends filtered in as the night went on, and soon the living room was packed with chatter, music, and the clinking of glasses.

You found yourself weaving through the crowd, smiling at familiar faces but searching for a quieter corner. The noise was wonderful, but it left a small ache in your chest—a reminder of home and your family traditions.

That’s when you spotted George slipping out the back door, his tall frame silhouetted against the moonlit garden. Curiosity tugged at you, and before you realized it, you were following him.

Outside, the crisp air bit at your skin, but it was refreshing after the heat of the crowded living room. George leaned against the railing of the porch, gazing up at the stars with a thoughtful expression.

“Escaping your own party?” you teased as you approached.

He turned, startled for a moment before his lips curved into a small smile. “Needed a breather. You?”

“Same.” You joined him at the railing, the sounds of the celebration muffled behind you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, content to share the quiet.

George broke the silence first. “What’s your New Year’s resolution?”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider your answer. “I can’t tell you, or it won’t happen.”

He raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. “That’s not how it works. Resolutions aren’t like wishes.”

“Oh, and you’re an expert on Muggle traditions now?” you teased, giving him a pointed look.

“Well, no,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “But I don’t think you’re supposed to keep me in suspense.” He kept quiet for a moment, before asking, “How about another tradition instead?”

You smiled, leaning slightly closer as you explained. “Alright, here’s one for you: kissing someone at midnight means you’ll be with them for the rest of the year.”

George blinked, and for a moment, the only sound was the faint rustling of the wind. Then, his lips curled into a sly grin. “Just the year?”

“Just the year,” you confirmed, though your heart beat a little faster when his eyes didn’t leave yours.

“Well then,” he murmured, voice low and warm, “I suppose I’ll have to do that every year, won’t I?”

You laughed, though it was softer than usual, your cheeks warming against the cold. His expression was teasing, but the sincerity in his gaze lingered long after the moment passed.

“What about you?” you asked, shifting the focus away from yourself. “What’s your resolution?”

George hesitated, the playful air around him faltering for just a second. “Can’t tell you, or it won’t happen,” he mimicked, grinning.

You rolled your eyes, nudging his arm lightly. “Touché.”

The two of you stayed out there for a while longer, talking about everything and nothing. Eventually, the cold drove you both back inside, where the party was in full swing. But as the countdown to midnight crept closer, you couldn’t help but wonder if George’s resolution had something to do with the way he’d looked at you under the stars.

The living room was alive with anticipation as everyone gathered near the clock, the air crackling with excitement. The enchanted disco ball spun lazily overhead, casting shimmering lights across the room. Plates clinked, conversations hummed, and the countdown loomed closer.

“Alright, everyone!” Fred called out, standing on a chair like he was addressing an assembly. “It’s time! Ten seconds to go—don’t mess it up now!”

The room erupted in laughter and shouts of excitement. You found yourself squeezed between Ginny and Hermione, your eyes flicking through the crowd in search of George.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

“Ten!” the group began, voices blending in chaotic unison.

Your heart started to race. Had he slipped outside again?

“Nine!”

You craned your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of his tall frame, but all you could see were the swaying heads of everyone else.

“Eight!”

The disco ball flickered, and you felt Hermione tug on your arm, smiling at you as she yelled the next number. You managed a half-hearted smile in return.

“Seven!”

Where was he?

“Six!”

Your stomach sank a little. You told yourself it was fine—after all, it wasn’t like he had to be there. It wasn’t a big deal.

“Five!”

But maybe it was.

“Four!”

A hand brushed your elbow, and you turned so quickly you nearly collided with him. George stood there, his hair slightly disheveled and cheeks flushed, grinning at you like he’d just pulled off the greatest prank in the world.

“Three!”

“Where were you?” you blurted, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

“Had to grab something,” he said cryptically, slipping his hands behind his back.

“Two!”

Your heart jumped into your throat. “George, what—”

“One!”

Before you could finish, he moved faster than you thought possible, dipping his head to capture your lips in a kiss. It wasn’t hurried or awkward—it was soft and warm, full of a quiet kind of confidence that left your knees a little wobbly.

Cheers and whistles erupted around you as everyone shouted, “Happy New Year!”

When George finally pulled back, his grin was nothing short of triumphant. “What were you saying?”

You blinked at him, flustered. “I—what—what did you grab?”

He stepped back just enough to reveal a small, sparkling firework in his hand, the kind that shot out glittery sparks. With a quick flick of his wand, it lit up, fizzling into the shape of a heart before fading away.

“That,” he said simply, his voice soft but his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Happy New Year, love.”

#harry potter #fic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #weasley twins #imagine #weasley #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasly x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley imagine #george fic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley

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jpitha · 1 month ago

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Painfully Bright

The humans tend to go… a little overboard when designing things, this is known, and the rest of the Coalition understands. Years of interaction and experience has taught most of the Coalition that sometimes… you just let them get it out of their system.

This time, I wasn’t so sure though.

I swear to the voice of my ancestors I don’t know why they insist that we… witness their next wild development. It’s like they have a burning desire to show the Coalition what they built. It’s like their latest toy doesn’t exist until they show it off.

This time, we were all ferried into one of their smaller - though still gigantic by our standards - frigates and brought to - literally - the middle of interstellar space. By the fur of my children, I am not lying! When we Flipped, we came back into what I could only describe is an… arena, hundreds of kilometers across. They had built massive gantries and hung lights off of them, the shadows cast by the lights were talon sharp. I have no idea how they were able to build lights that bright. Honestly, I think that my administration would be more interested in those lights instead of… whatever is on the platform in the center. I’ll ask after the demonstration.

With unaided visio, the platform was a simple black speck. Helpfully, the screens in the observation room were connected to telescopes, and a high resolution image was projected next to the real-time view. Additionally, our pads were tied into the camera feed so that we could all change what scopes we were watching, if we wanted to see a detail that the main camera wasn’t showing. It was all very professional and set up to make sure we could all see and observe.

More Coalition members filed in after me, having spent more time at the refreshment tables than I. The humans did their best, and some members found their cuisine quite intriguing, but I for one could not stand it. Too loud, too flavorful, too… much like them. I had a water bulb, and got a good seat while everyone else stuffed their inputs. As they came in and found seats, I had noticed that some humans, and even a few other Coalition members walked quietly in behind the guests and took up positions around the room. They were all wearing a sharply tailored uniform, black, with a white undershirt peeking out behind an open lapel. The humans had a name for this outfit, I remember them saying it. Ugh, I can’t remember.

A few more minutes were spent waiting, and then a human walked to the front of the room and addressed the gathering; “Friends, Sapients, thank you for attending our demonstration. We here at StrossCo are incredibly excited to demonstrate our new power reactor. We are convinced that this wholly new design which is smaller, more powerful, and yet has the same operating costs will enable everyone in the Coalition to more easily power their ships, stations, and anything else that requires power. I wish to apologize that the demonstration reactor is so far away, but unfortunately HIDA regulations-” I noticed his eyes flick over to one of the people stationed around the room, and then nearly as quickly back to the audience, “-require it. Rest assured, it is perfectly safe, and will pose no danger to anyone when in regular operation. Now, if you please-” He gestured dramatically, and with a clunk and a noise like something spinning down, the lights went out. The screens went dead, and even the ever-present thrum of the environmental systems ceased. I felt light in my seat, and noticed my water bulb drifting slowly. All the power was off.

There were mumbles and murmurs of conversation as realization set in, and then, almost as quickly as the power went off, it returned. First gravity, then environmental, then lights and finally cameras and screens. Everything was back on, and the human in front was grinning wickedly. “Now, everything here - this frigate, the lights in the arena, all beacons, sensors, sentries and ships - everything - is being powered by our new reactor.”

What was previously a murmur of conversation rose in intensity when realization set in. If they were not lying - and they had no reason to lie - their singular reactor was powering more than nearly a dozen Coalition reactors. The power output was positively titanic. I could see notes being quickly written, and some others were muttering things into comms and dicts. Everyone was interested in this. I looked at the large screen, and noticed that the magnified view was gone. We could only see the small speck of the platform. I attempted to call up the magnified view on my pad, and could not access it. I stood and ruffled my feathers. “Pardon me. I notice that the magnified view of the reactor has been turned off. May we please get a close up view of the reactor in action?”

The StrossCo rep looked at me, and then I saw his eyes flick back to one of the suited humans. I didn’t see their reaction, but I could tell the rep was disappointed. “Er, no, I’m sorry. It seems to be… technical difficulties. Our tech teams are working now to get everything back up as quickly as possible.”

That couldn’t be right. Something felt off. I made my way past other members taking notes and making calls, and walked up to the screen. I got as close as I could and tried to get a better view. “Is there a physical viewport here? As you are aware, Innari have excellent vision. I would like to look at the reactor with my own eyes.”

“Uh, I’m afraid that is quite impossible right now; as you are aware -er, Sapient, human frigates have very few physical windows as they are a deliberate hole in the hull and are a structural weakness and-”

His rambling defence of not letting us see the reactor was cut off by the lights beginning to grow painfully bright. At the edge of my vision, I could see strobing. The environmental fans increased from a gentle movement of the air to a stiff breeze. Fortunately, the gravity remained the same. I looked up at the rep and all the color had drained from his face. “Pardon me” he said, absently and then ran out of the room. Not willing to give up learning what was going on, I followed.

He ran past the reception hall, towards a control room deeper in the ship. As we entered, it was a frantic commotion of movement and noise. One of the suited humans at the door noticed me, and raised an eyebrow, questioning, but said nothing.

“It’s overspeeding again! I told you it wasn’t ready to demo.” A human sitting at a station said to the rep as he walked in.

“Shut it down. Nobody has seen the reactor yet, we can switch back to shipboard power and Flipwarp everyone out of here before they see.” The rep had placed his hand on the back of the human’s chair and was peering over his shoulder at the screen. I couldn’t read the text, but I knew the humans used red to delineate problems, and the screens had a lot of red.

“What about the bird?” Another human looked over their shoulder at me and inclined their head. “They’re going to see the whole thing.”

“Don’t call them birds, you took the HR class same as me” the rep said, as he ran over to another station and pressed a few buttons. “He’s an Innari and one of the Coalition observers and we can have him sign an NDA. He wanted to see what the reactor looked like anyway.” He stood and looked at me. “You’re going to sign an NDA when this is all over.” It was not a question. I nodded - a human gesture.

“Can I see the reactor now?”

One of the black suited humans stepped into the room, the one that was by the door when the demonstration was going on I think. She exuded this… authority. She wasn’t dressed any differently than the other suited humans, but at her entrance, everyone calmed down, became more subdued. “Show him. He’s already agreed to sign the NDA.”

“But, the frame-dragging-effect will be-” the Rep’s protestations were weak.

“Show. Him.”

Without another word, he pressed a few more buttons on the panels, and a large screen in front of everyone lit up. It was the same view of the platform as before, but this one was magnified and much clearer than the ones we had in the demonstration hall.

Something was wrong with the reactor. I looked wrong. When I looked past it the gantry in view, the lights, the interstellar stars behind it were… spiraling. Everything directly behind the reactor from our vantage point was gently spiraling. Without a word, I looked at the woman who had ordered me to see it.

“It’s frame-dragging.” She said, with a sigh. “Again.” She looked down at me, and noticed my confusion. She must have some training with Innari body language. “Some of the components in the reactor are spinning relativistically, which is causing the local space-time fabric to… spin.”

“Is it spinning, or are we?” I said, confused.

“Yes.” She said and sighed again. “They can't stop it if it’s already frame dragging, it’s going too fast. The pseudomass is too high. We either have to disconnect it and hope it spins down or…” she trailed off.

“Or what?”

“Or everyone finds out why we ordered this demonstration to be done two parsecs from any inhabited world.”

Well, that explained that at least. I looked back at the woman who seemed to be in charge. “So, why don’t we just Flipwarp away?”

“Yes, Allan, why don’t we just Flipwarp away?” She said pointedly, while looking at the Rep.

“The investment at this point is in the kilotrillion Stars, we can’t just abandon-” he started, but then there was a flash of binding light from the reactor and I had thought it had detonated, but it… just… stayed.

“Oh, goody.” The human in charge said, flatly. “It’s started to accrete matter. Didn’t this happen the last time you ran a test Allan, and didn’t HIDA say that it was not to happen again?”

“Administrator McKay please, if we could only-” the human apparently named Allan said before he was cut off.

“No. This demonstration has finished. I am declaring an emergency, HIDA is now in charge.” Administrator McKay clicked a com on her wrist. “Captain, you will Flash us away right now. Best speed please.” There was a crackle of static and a small voice said something I couldn’t hear. “What do you mean, you can’t switch back to internal reactors?” More static and crackled voices. “No, that doesn’t make sense, the connections to-” before she could finish, there was a lurch, and I could feel the gravity begin to swing wildly, trying to compensate for the motion, but moving just an instant behind so it felt like I was being pulled in multiple directions.

“Administrator! The pseudomass has transitioned to physical mass! We are being pulled by the reactor’s gravity. Stationkeeping reports that the thrusters are being overwhelmed. If we don’t Flash soon, we won’t be able to.”

“Damn you, Allan.” She said, snarling, “If we survive this StrossCo will go back to being an indie publisher, I will personally ensure it.” She looked down at me. “Innari! You’ve been deputized. Come with me.” Without checking to see if I was following she took off down the hall.

I followed, what else could I do? Her long strides made her deceptively fast, but she never fell out of sight, and we reached a room deep within the ship. On either side of the bulkhead were two armed and armored guards. When Administrator McKay came into view, they saluted sharply.

She returned the salute quickly and said “We need to disconnect the umbilical to StrossCo’s test reactor so we can flash home on ours.”

“Right away Administrator,” and the guard on the right palmed a pad next to the door. There was a chirp and a green light, and the door slid open.

I’m an administrator, I’m not a reactor technician, a commander, or even an engineer. I talk to people, make deals. What I mean to explain is that I have no idea what a reactor hall - let alone a human reactor hall is supposed to look like.

I’m pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to look like this, however.

The room was painfully bright with sharp, stark shadows being cast by what I can only describe as a cable, stretched taut running down the middle of the hall. People wearing white suits with smoked helmets were running around the hall, trying to control something. I covered my eyes with my feathered hand, trying to not be dazzled, when Administrator McKay handed me a pair of goggles. Curiously, they were for Innari bodyplans. I wondered why she had those. Regardless, I put them on, and found that they were able to block the worst of the light from the cable while still enabling me to see. “Come along Inn-” She stopped. “What is your name? It feels rude to just call you ‘Innari.”

I couldn’t help myself. Even during an emergency, introductions must be done right. I stood up a little straighter and said “In the common parlance, I am called Howling Wind, though that is not my given name.”

“Nice to meet you, Howling Wind, I am Administrator Tiff McKay. Now that introductions are out of the way, I need you to go over to that panel, next to the cable.” She pressed a comm button into my hand, and almost reflexively, I clipped it to some feathers near my auditory input. Before I could ask why, she had taken off at a dead run towards the other end of the hall.

“Howling Wind, are you in position?” She asked a moment later.

I had made my way to the panel she indicated. I was much closer to the cable than I preferred to be. It’s not that it was… hot, but it almost radiated something beyond heat. It radiated the impression of heat. That would be fine right? Probably. Innari aren’t as susceptible to ionizing radiation as humans are, but this wasn’t radioactive, I thought. “I am at the panel Administrator McKay.”

“Good. While looking at the panel, there are a series of three buttons along the top right corner. They’re normally red and blue but with your goggles and the light from the cable that is probably washed out. Press them one time only moving from left to right.”

I pressed the buttons, and there was a click below me

“A panel will have opened up. I’ll need you to duck into the panel and tell me when you are in position.”

I looked in, and sure enough, an opening barely large enough for someone of my size had opened. I leaned in nearly all the way. “I am.. In the panel.”

“To your right is a lever. It has a trigger near the base. You must pull the trigger first and then push the lever. Do it now.”

“What will it-”

“Just do it Howl, there isn’t time.”

Mentally shrugging, and whispering a prayer to my Ancestors - may they watch over me and not laugh too much - I pulled the trigger, there was a detent and then I felt something like a spring release, and pushed the lever.

It was very hard to push. I had to put my whole body into it, and at first it felt like I wasn’t doing anything. I braced my back against the top of the panel, and pushed as hard as I could. When I thought I couldn’t push anymore, there was a clunk and a whipping, metallic noise and I was plunged into darkness. I could hear shouting and boots thundering around me, then there was the prismatic flash of light that filled the reactor room for an instant that indicated that we had Flashed.

I slowly slid myself out from under the panel, only to find Administrator McKay looming over me. She held out a hand, and I gladly took her help to get back on my talons. Sliding the goggles down from my face, I looked at her. “Just what… did we do?”

“We - er, you initiated a manual disconnect of the umbilical from the overspeeding reactor so that the frigate’s reactors could Flash us to safety. You saved everyone Howl.”

As she spoke, some of the reactor technicians took off their smoked goggles and took a look. I could feel their eyes staring at me.

I could only think of stupid things to say, so I just said it. “Why me?”

McKay laughed. “Just lucky I guess. There was a serious amount of ionizing radiation coming from the connector and I knew that Innari were much more resistant to radiation than humans, so I was able to get you to disconnect it. We’ll take you to med, but I think you’ll be fine. How are your hands?”

My hands? I looked down and… yes, some of the tiny feathers on my digits had turned gray, and were falling off, dead. It didn’t hurt though. Shouldn’t it hurt?

“Ah yes, some minor damage to your hands.” She said. “We’ll fix it up, don’t worry.”

“Why doesn’t it hurt?” I asked, dumfounded.

“It doesn’t hurt?” She seemed surprised. “I didn’t think Innari went into shock, so maybe the nerve endings were destroyed.” She patted my shoulder. “Regardless, you saved us all today Howl, thank you.” There were smiles and noises of thanks and congratulations coming from the reactor team, it was… odd.

“Everything happened so suddenly. I didn’t have time to question my reactions.” I said to her, as we walked down the hall towards med.

“Yes, that’s how emergencies go Howl. You did well. In fact-” She reached into her pocket and took out a small white card and placed it into the pocket of my sash. “When your hands are all healed, call me. We can always use people who can think on their feet.

#writing #humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #jpitha #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens

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pinkcarnatixns · 10 months ago

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leah williamson | hands down

synopsis your girlfriend (barely) faces the consequences for her irritating behavior [1.5K] contents bf! leah, slightly suggestive

You were unbelievably pissed.

Banging open the door to your shared apartment, you make a beeline for the couch and throw your weight into it with a huff. Making a show of being occupied with clicking through channels, you stubbornly keep your eye on the screen when the sound of your girlfriend’s sock-clad feet pad into the room.

“Baby,” she whined. Sparing her a glance, you only narrowed your eyes further at her standing form, complete with a pout and carrying both of your heavy training bags. At the resolute silence she receives and losing your gaze to the TV, she makes a statement of letting them both thud to the floor and stomping over.

“You cannot be serious!” She argues as she’s met with a socked foot to the abdomen when making a move to sit next to you.

As she’s standing over you, you make an effort for an even steelier gaze as the beginnings of a smirk tease her lips. Slowly, she leans more and more weight onto your leg which, shaky from training- quickly crumbles under the pressure. “Get off Leah! You are stinky and annoying!” The small victory she gets from crashing onto you is quickly replaced by shock as she tumbles to the floor at your retaliation.

“You can kick me all you want but do not call me Leah!” She scoffs, clutching her chest and looking up at you with her all-too-familiar furrowed brow. “Why not Williamson? It is your name, isn’t it?” You smack away the ghost of her hand on your thigh and roll your eyes.

“Stop that! You only call me that when you’re angry!” She groans as she stands to her feet, matching your crossed arms, “And I haven’t done anything!”

“Oh really! Then it must have been my other completely irritating girlfriend who insists on poking and prodding me like a teenage boy all day long!” You punctuate your words by standing and digging your pointer finger into her sternum.

In an attempt to quell your frustration, her hands find a familiar place on your hips in the small space between your bodies. You avert your gaze to avoid crumbling at the act of affection accompanied by the heady smell of her perfume, your crossed arms still your only line of defense. Her head tilts softly as she gazes down at you, “Is it such a crime to be obsessed with my lovely, gorgeous, talented girlfriend?”

Heat rises to your cheeks, shy under her complete attention and frustrated at the way she can still make you blush easily after all these years. At the small break in your angry facade, she takes the opportunity to let her hands wander lower, unfortunately jogging your memory to what had instigated your fury in the first place. “It absolutely is when you feel the need to smack my butt in front of all our teammates like a horny boy while they laugh on like your own little fraternity! Honestly!” Shoving at her chest, you stalk over to your shared bedroom.

Following at a much slower pace and with her head down like a scolded child, she watches on quietly as you rip through the drawers for a change of clothes, grabbing a towel so hard you nearly send the whole stack tumbling. Realizing where this is going, she starts pleading, “Honey, I’m so sorry, they were really egging me on! I swear Katie-”

She stops talking and tailing you as she nearly collides with your back, mustering up her most pitiful puppy eyes as you set your things on the counter. Whipping around to face her, you stand in the threshold of the bathroom, gripping the door with white knuckles. “I’m taking a shower! Alone!” The door is then promptly shut in her face and she hears the lock’s definite click ringing in her ears.

She pouts at the hardwood in self-pity before deciding there was much groveling that needed to be done and she should try to get a head start while you cooled off.

After taking your time in the shower, you did feel much more relaxed- enough that you reached for one of Leah’s sweaters when leaving the warm steam of the bathroom. Treading back into the living room, you were surprised at her absence on the couch, your girlfriend normally one for lazing around after training.

You’re suspicious at the small glimpse of her in the kitchen, striding over to you with a sheepish smile, steaming plate in each hand. She had clearly taken the time to shower in the guest room, clad in a hoodie that you remembered complimenting at some point, accompanied by some oversized basketball shorts. Her hair was haphazardly tied up, and you found your frown dissolving at the sight of her bangs sticking out, never quite cooperating much to your girlfriend’s chagrin.

“‘M sorry, I know it’s not much but it’s all I can make without burning our kitchen down.” She awkwardly chuckles, avoiding your eyes slightly in shame. You sigh, irritation gone from your body, and reach for one of the plates of spaghetti when she yanks it back towards herself. She lights up completely at your small acceptance of her peace offering and smirks. “No! Nothing but the princess treatment tonight, my love!”

Navigating around you towards the couch with a new pep in her step, you stand stunned at her sudden change in attitude. You watch on as she carefully sets the plates down on the coffee table next to wine glasses that you hadn’t noticed before, happily plopping into her normal spot.

She had clearly prepared this to some extent, as she drags your favorite blanket half over herself, hovering the rest next to her as an invitation. She shoots you with her familiar pleading gaze, shaking your side of the blanket for emphasis. You were never destined to hold out for long, treading over with a roll of your eyes. As you sit down next to her, she shoots you a thousand-kilowatt smile, leaning over you and tucking the blanket under your thigh, clearly a ruse to have you scooch closer to her- her body heat now seeping into yours.

“You get to pick the entertainment for tonight, no complaints, I swear!” She passes you the remote, and lets her arm fall around your shoulders, gazing at you with a smug grin on her face. Leah always claimed to hate your ‘cheesy’ movies, forever trying to distract you from them with affection. “I should pick a movie I know you hate after that earlier stunt.” You mumble, but she recognizes the teasing lilt to your voice.

“I’m sorry honey. You really just looked too good today! It should be illegal to be that pretty after running around in the dirt all day, seriously!” You blush at her words, leaning over to place a small peck on her lips to shut her up and because you really could not keep up this facade much longer.

She lights up even further, smile bursting at the seams as she eagerly reaches over to place your plate in your lap. At your fork in her hand and her refusal to hand it to you, you quickly catch on to what she’s trying to do. “Leah. Please do not.”

She sinks a little at your words, and groans. “Call me anything but Leah, I’m literally begging.”

You giggle at her dramatics. “Fine baby, please do not embarrass me in my own home, I’m capable of feeding myself.”

Completely ignoring your words, she makes a point of twisting around some noodles into a little bite and holding it up to your mouth. At your glare, she just smiles harder and moves it closer to your mouth. Knowing she wouldn’t drop it, you open your mouth and allow her to feed you. As you chew, she stares pensively, “How is it?”

It’s entirely too salty, forever being the girl’s favorite ‘seasoning,’ but you get it down and send her a thumbs up anyway- accompanied with a small smile. She’s ecstatic at your praise and peppers your face with kisses before you push her away lightly, giggling with your mouth still a bit full.

“Now that’s settled! Finish your five star meal and then I deserve a much-needed cuddle session for all my hard work!” She grabs her own bowl and starts scarfing it down. You chuckle to yourself at her newfound enthusiasm, satisfied at the fact that she still glues one hand to your thigh while eating with the other.

As your plates are almost clean, you break the comfortable silence with a final warning. “Do not do that again baby. You are the vice captain of a professional team and a grown woman, not a twelve year old boy. And Katie’s still in big trouble for egging you on.”

She sets both of your finished bowls back on the table, dragging your legs over hers which leaves you half on her lap. Meeting your pouty gaze, she breaks out in a shit-eating grin. “But baby, you’re so hot when you’re mad at me.”

You hope that the neighbors don’t complain at the resounding yelp she lets out as your hand slaps her bare thigh with all the strength you can muster.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso community #leah williamson fluff #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso one shot

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solxamber · 3 months ago

Note

Not sure if this is allowed since I just recently requested it, and you recently posted it, but if you want to, can you make a part two to the rollo fic? He got me kicking my feet giggling and blushing just like yuu fr...

Rollo Flamme x Reader

part 1: here

rollo anon i hope this is what you wanted, if not, let me know 🫡

Dating Rollo turned out to be… oddly wholesome. You had braced yourself for awkwardness, tension, maybe even a lecture on the dangers of magic every time you held hands, but instead, Rollo was... incredibly considerate. And to your low, dirt-floor standards, he was absolutely killing it.

Take your first “official” date. He’d invited you to the library—yes, the library—because, in his words, “What could be more stimulating than expanding one’s knowledge together?” You almost choked on your tea when he said it, but you went along. And honestly? It was kinda sweet.

Rollo arrived, dressed impeccably as always, with a bouquet of non-lethal flowers. That alone had your heart skipping several beats. “I thought you might appreciate something... symbolic,” he said, handing them over with a proud smile. “They represent thoughtfulness.”

You blinked, staring down at the very normal flowers in awe. Thoughtful flowers? For you? From a guy who wasn’t trying to actively ruin your life? The bar was so low, and yet here he was, cartwheeling over it like some sort of overachieving gymnast.

“Wow, Rollo, these are... perfect,” you said, genuinely touched. “No one’s ever gotten me something so thoughtful before.”

Rollo blinked, genuinely confused. “Really? No one?”

You shrugged, smiling awkwardly. “Nope. This is... new.”

That seemed to light a little spark in his eyes, like he’d just been given a new challenge. “Well then,” he said, voice soft but resolute, “I’ll have to make sure this becomes a regular occurrence.”

Cue you, nearly melting into a puddle of feelings on the library floor.

And it didn’t stop there. The smallest things he did were, in your mind, the epitome of romance. Like when he held the door open for you, or how he always poured your tea first. Or the time he walked you home just to make sure you got back to Ramshackle safely, even though you both knew you were probably safer from harm than anyone else on campus.

“You really didn’t have to walk me all the way,” you mumbled, feeling giddy but trying to play it cool.

Rollo, ever the gentleman, gave a small, approving nod. “It’s only right to ensure your safety. Besides, it’s a pleasant walk.”

Pleasant?! Rollo, this was practically a marriage proposal in your eyes.

Then there was the time you’d been casually talking about books (because apparently, that was your new thing now—having intelligent conversations), and Rollo mentioned offhandedly, “I’ve taken the liberty of requesting a copy of that novel you were interested in. I thought we could read it together.”

You nearly short-circuited. He remembered what you liked? He went out of his way to get it for you? NRC was full of selfish jerks who’d trip over themselves for extra homework help, and here was Rollo—an actual prince among men—doing something so simple and thoughtful that you had to excuse yourself to go scream into a pillow later that night.

One time, you were walking around the gardens, and Rollo gently draped his coat over your shoulders because it was chilly. It was such a normal, nice thing to do, but your brain, ruined by years of absolute chaos, could barely comprehend it.

You gave him a grateful smile, heart practically bursting. “Thanks. That’s really sweet of you.”

Rollo tilted his head, eyebrow raised. “Sweet? It’s just practical. You were cold.”

Sure, maybe it was practical, but the only practical things you were used to involved someone stopping Grim from lighting things on fire. The sheer normalcy of this kind of care was borderline magical.

When you got to the front steps of Ramshackle, you expected him to say goodnight and leave, but instead, he lingered for just a moment. “I hope you’ll join me for tea again soon,” he said, his voice soft but sincere.

You nodded, heart doing somersaults. “Yeah, definitely. Tea sounds... great.”

And then, in a move so simple yet so devastatingly perfect, he reached out and gently took your hand in his, squeezing it lightly before stepping back. “Goodnight,” he said, turning to leave with that cool, composed demeanor of his.

Meanwhile, you stood there, practically vibrating with excitement because, holy hell, he held your hand.

Rollo, in his usual intense way, probably thought he was just being courteous, doing the bare minimum of politeness. But to you? This was peak romance. No deadly plants, no chaos, no magic explosions—just... a nice guy, treating you like a person.

And honestly? That was more than enough.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #rollo flamme x reader #rollo x reader #rollo #rollo flamme

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femdomlieeh · 11 months ago

Text

Crown (m)

Sub!Heeseung (ENHYPEN) x Dom!F!Reader

WC—5.8 ✧ k

WARNING—bathtub sex ✧ role-play (lovers/ gf & bf) ✧ blindfolding (m) ✧ stripping (m) ✧ unprotected sex (be safe yall!) ✧ piv ✧ light S&M ✧ dacryphilia (m) ✧ body worship (m) ✧ nipple play (m!r) ✧ light spanking (m!r) ✧ breath play (m!r) ✧ lingerie (f) ✧ teasing (m!r) ✧ thigh kink ✧ tattoo kink (?) ✧ brief begging ✧ biting (m!r) ✧ praise (f!g) ✧ marking (f!g) ✧ pet names (mami, prince, baby)

THEMES—smut ✧ best friend au ✧ fwb for one night agreement ✧ a little angsty

NOW PLAYING—imagine ✧ Ariana Grande

A/N. This is actually my favourite smut I’ve posted so far so I hope you enjoy!

Old Seungwoo version

M.LISTS—enhypen ✧ latest updates ✧ read on wp

✦ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ✧ ੈ ✧

Valentine’s Day.

The happiest day of the year for couples.

Couples could finally do PDA and have people cooing at them in either cuteness or jealousy, but never disgust because PDA was allowed on Valentine's Day.

People could finally have an excuse to do something special for someone, like making a grand romantic gesture or even proposing.

It was supposed to be that way, right?

I was going to have a corny day together with my boyfriend of three years, Yeonjun. Every single detail all the way from the restaurant to the hotel room had been thought out by me, because – not only am I romantic – I always like to be prepared.

Not to sound cocky or to flatter myself, but the plan was so good even I was impressed with it.

Except not everything went to plan.

My lover decided to break up with me one month before the awaited day. One month before Valentine's Day! Only two weeks into the new year! He had "grown out of love" as he'd said. Guess one of his New Year's resolutions was to break up with me.

My parents had met him and accepted him — which said a lot, since they've always had high standards and never liked any of my previous lovers — so it was safe to say that I felt lost.

For two weeks I'd avoided contact with my family, so I wouldn't have to tell them the news yet because I was embarrassed, I was single right in time for the day of love. The only person who knew, other than me and Yeonjun, was my best friend Heeseung.

Since the moment I told him, he made it his daily routine to come to my place with open arms and a warm embrace. I never cried in front of anyone but him. It isn't weak to shed tears, in fact shedding tears takes a lot of strength, I simply don't feel comfortable showing myself vulnerable to others, and especially not after being hurt by someone I trusted.

With Heeseung, it was different, however. We've known each other for so many years and we know most of each other's secrets already. I know that when I cry in front of him it's without being judged and he knows the same goes for him.

One day when he, like normally, went to my place, his smile was abnormal. It was fake. I knew it was fake. After all these years of knowing him, I could distinguish his fake smiles from his true ones faster than Eminem can rap.

Being the caring best friend I am, I asked him what had happened. At that, he broke down and let go of the fooling smile; he can never lie to me for more than a few seconds. His girlfriend, Karina, had broken up with him. Honestly speaking, it was understandable why she wanted to break up with him: 1. He spent too much time with me, 2. He never told her about his thoughts or what bothered him, 3. He didn't treat her like the queen everyone knows she is

Heeseung was mature and didn't beg her for a second chance because he knew she deserved someone better; someone who not only knew she deserved to be treated like a queen but treated her like it. But no matter how mature he was, it didn't make the pain smaller on his part. He was disappointed in himself for ever being in a relationship where he didn't treat his lover right.

And so it was my turn to comfort him. For a couple of days, I had opened arms and a warm embrace for him to find comfort in until he had calmed down.

Impulsively, we went to a tattoo shop and got him a tattoo. It wasn't the I'm-heartbroken-and-need-a-tattoo-to-look-good tattoo, it was the I-need-some-inspiration-in-this-dark-place tattoo. After brainstorming for a long ten minutes, he got the best idea. Don't lock me up, in italics right under his collarbone, above his heart to remind himself to not lock up his feelings.

He had been in great pain for the quarter of time it took to do the tattoo, but he didn't seem to mind... Judging by the way he was biting his lower lip, he was holding in a pained whine, seemingly trying to impress me by handling the pain. When the torture finally had come to an end, the final product made him smile truly – although that part of his body had to be covered with plastic and some tape whenever he so much as wanted to shower.

A week away from Valentine's Day, Heeseung and I made a pact; the kind of pact we never would have planned to have with each other. During the holiday we'd do all the cheesy things we had planned to do to our now-ex-lovers – but the most crucial parts was that A) the other person wouldn't judge and B) next day all of it would be forgotten. Wow. We had grown so dependent on each other's care that we made the kind of pact we never would have planned to have with each other...

It was probably stupid to do such a thing with a best friend of so many years, but it was also the 'healthiest' thing to do for us two. Although I, at this point, had convinced Heeseung that I was over Yeonjun, I still hadn't convinced myself. And the same went for Heeseung; he had convinced me that he was over Karina, but not himself.

My plan for Valentine's Day was sublime and if I didn't go through with it, I would regret it — and, damn, I couldn't wait a whole year for the next opportunity (if I even would get the opportunity)!

And that explains this. Us standing. A week later. On a romantic rooftop. Dressed nicely. Smiling awkwardly at each other. On Valentine's Day.

"Since you're my boyfriend tonight, let's go down to the room I rented, shall we?"

"This feels weird," he giggled lightly.

"Play along!" I held out my hand for him to hold and flashed him a smile. He reciprocated my smile and took my hand, following my lead down the stairs to our hotel room; the room I had booked for me and Yeonjun.

Our hands were sweating. It wasn't the first time Heeseung and I held hands, but it was the first time we ever did something like this together; something normal best friends don't do. The affection we've displayed to each other throughout the years had been mostly words and hugs and sometimes cuddles. But now...we were going to show affection in ways we've only done to lovers.

I held out the black card key in front of the sensor above the golden knob but retracted it before the door unlocked.

"If you want to turn back, now is the time to do so. I don't want to go through with this if you don't want to," I said and looked at him.

His eyes told me that it was OK, but I needed his consent to be sure he was OK.

"I want to do this, don't worry," he smiled a little as his heart pounded.

Without breaking eye contact, I put the card in front of the sensor again and waited a few microseconds for it to unlock. I turned the knob and opened the door to the pact.

"After you," I gestured him to enter the room.

"Why thank you," he blushed and hurried inside so I wouldn't catch a glimpse of his flustered state.

But I did.

And I smiled when I saw it.

The room was big and open. Simple, but just perfect. Knowing me and my cheesy nature, Heeseung had expected perhaps some rose petals on the bed or a few scented candles by the bed but, to his surprise, he saw none of that.

I pushed him down onto the soft bed with silk sheets, distracting him for the real surprise, and sat beside him.

"Before we do anything, we need safe words."

"Safe words?" he inquired and raised a brow unknowingly.

"A word to say in case anyone goes overboard or passes the limits," I explained shortly.

"Alright, mine is apple."

"Why apple though?" I giggled at his randomness.

"I ate an apple today." (It was true, he'd had a green apple because he once read that green apples make your breath smell better.)

"If you're going for a fruit I am too. My safe word is peach."

"Why peach?" he raised his brow at me stealing his fruit idea.

"Your peach looks really good in those pants, so it was the first thing I thought of," I replied and laughed at his flustered self.

He knew he had a plump peach.

It was just embarrassing hearing it from me since I, as his best friend, am supposed to not acknowledge how incredibly handsome he is – and especially when it comes to body parts such as peaches!

I put my hand on his thigh to get his attention away from the embarrassment.

"Tonight, I'm not your best friend anymore, Prince," I said with a newfound tone that sent shivers down Heeseung's spine.

I neared him and whispered in his ear, "Tonight, I'm your Mami."

He gulped. I had always been a very dominant person in everything I did, so he expected nothing less than that in bed — but the foreign titles took him by surprise. But it made sense for me to use titles in bed, because I was classy like that.

"What's your safe word?" I asked to make sure he knows he can use it whenever he wants to. After all I didn't know what was out of his comfort-zone.

"Apple."

"If you feel uncomfortable you know you need to say that word, understood?"

"Yes, Mami," he answered, a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

With his green light I continued, "Good boy."

At the praise, his cheeks matched the floating rose petals. I loved how responsive he was already. Before tonight I wasn't sure what kind of partner he would be but finding out what he likes step by step excites me – more than I thought finding out my best friend's kinks would excite me. I want to know everything. What turns him on, what makes him scream, what makes him cry; everything.

"My best friend's into praise, hm. Who would have thought?" I teased and squeezed his thigh lightly.

"I'm not your best friend anymore, Mami. I'm Prince, right?"

I looked into his eyes and saw something I'd never seen in them before. Was it lust? Was it something else? How could I be sure of what it was if I hadn't seen him like this before?

"Indeed, you are, Prince," I smiled, slowly feeling my hand up his thick, muscular thigh.

He followed my hand's path with his gaze and bit his lip like back in the tattoo shop. Was he holding in a moan, perhaps? When my hand was at the top, soon on his V-line, I heard how his breathing grew louder and more unsteady.

He seemed to enjoy his thighs being touched.

I noticed how his pants were forming a tent in the prince area, and smirked. To tease him, I let go of his thigh and walked up to the door to the bathroom. He tensed. Maybe he wanted me to touch him some more?

"After you, Prince," I said and opened the door for him.

Once again that stereotype-breaking gesture had him blushing ferociously.

He went into the new room, not expecting much other than grabbing a condom. But when the sight he was met by was nowhere near what he expected, yet it didn't shock him one bit. A large bathtub filled with atypical pink water and typical red rose petals floating on the surface.

He chuckled, "As expected, my best friend is a cheesy person."

"I'm not your best friend anymore, Prince. I'm your Mami, right?" I asked with a confident smirk.

"Y-Yes," he stuttered and turned away from me so he could avoid my powerful gaze.

"Yes what?" I pushed a little to see how comfortable he was with the title.

"Yes, I'm Mami's Prince," he said under his breath.

I went up behind him and wrapped my arms around his torso, feeling the expensive fabric under my fingertips. "Want to take this off for me?"

"Y-Yes, Mami."

I smiled, "Then give me a little show." He gulped as I sat down on the edge of the tub to get a full view of him. With adrenaline coursing through his body, he let the blazer fall off his shoulders and land on the floor, followed by the ivory dress shirt. As soon as his skin was touched by the air, goosebumps formed, and he flexed his abs. He sure had worked hard to get flex his muscles like this.

Biting my lip, I pointed at his ivy pants, "Take those off too." The way I bit my lip made him feel confident. I didn't bite my lip to prevent honest sounds from falling out like Heeseung did, I bit my lip to prevent myself from ripping the rest of his clothes off. He undid the belt and let the pants pool down around his ankles. Now, in front of me, was he standing in nothing but a pair of black boxers that were fitting all too tight due to those thick thighs and the clearly big erection. He was gulping under my gaze, waiting for me to instruct him on what to do.

"Show me your prince part, Prince." Blushing at the euphemism, he put his fingers under the waistband and pulled his boxers down. He was fit and attractive. Each muscle on his body was visibly hard, including his dick that was high and proud in the air. "You're so handsome, Prince," I praised and watched a small smile break out on his face.

He walked to me with his head down and stood with his tall figure in front of my sitting posture. "Do you want me to touch you, Prince?"

"Yes, please." At that, I put a finger in the middle of his chest and traced it down his abs and to the tip of his dick. He bit his lip again to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping; he wanted to impress me by being good. But I didn't want to give him too much pleasure yet.

"Let's get wet now, shall we? I didn't fill this tub for aesthetics..." He laughed lightly, feeling more at ease at the small joke I made. Listening, he slowly set foot into the tub and tried not to spill so much as a drop of the water. It took him a good half minute to fully settle down since he's so tall and big due to his muscles — but that was good, because it gave me plenty of time to prepare additional surprises for him.

When he averted his attention from the pink water and back to me, he was met by an astonishing, breathtaking, life-changing sight. Me. In lingerie. With a red silk blindfold in hand. This specific lace lingerie was Yeonjun's favorite, so I naturally chose to wear it now – in red to match the theme of the holiday. I felt the most comfortable in it. In this color. In this fabric. Everything made me feel sexy. But the memories of what me and him had done while I was in it brought back a gloominess.

Heeseung didn't know how to react. Did I pick the color red because it was the traditional color of Valentine's Day or because I knew it was his favorite color? For some odd and unknown reason, he hoped for the latter one.

"You look so handsome like this, Prince, but I think you'd look even better in this," I winked and held up the red blindfold. He shuddered. The little piece of fabric was something different. Never had he ever used one in the bedroom — only in fun games with friends, where you had to trust your teammates. Now, however, he was going to put his trust in me.

"What's your safe word?"

"Apple," he answered, "I trust you. You don't need to ask me about it all the time, I'll tell if you need to stop."

"But we've never done this before so I'm scared of it going wrong," I admitted.

"I trust you. Trust me too, Mami."

"As you wish, Prince," I replied.

Once again, I sat down on the edge of the bathtub. I lowered the love blindfold to his face, holding it right above. He was looking at me with those big, curious eyes, filled with anticipation for what was going to happen. How long I was staying still was quickening his heartbeat; he knew I wanted him to be verbal.

"Please," he said, feeling slightly impatient; his heart would jump out his chest any second now. Smiling, I finally put the blindfold on him and tightened it behind his head, making sure it wasn't too tight since I didn't want to ruin his beautiful hair or innocence too much. Oh wait, scratch the last one. I petted his hair, which was equally smooth as the silk around his head. "Does it hurt, Prince?" I asked, referring to the blindfold.

"No, Mami." The silk was smooth against his skin and, although all he could see was darkness, it was magical; all the other senses were heightened. He could hear me breathing and even imagine what I was thinking whilst I was touching him this gently. Maybe I was thinking of how much I loved him as a best friend. Maybe I was thinking of how I'd ruin him. Maybe I was thinking of what to do next.

Slowly I proceeded to his neck. He could feel my presence, through my breaths on his skin, and thus elongated his neck for me — he couldn't see me, but he could sense what I wanted. I began placing small kisses up his neck to his well-defined jaw, while he tried to keep his breathing in control. The kisses were small, yet they made such a big impact on him since his sense of touch was thousands of times greater than normal.

"M-Mami?"

"Yes, Prince," I said between kisses.

"Can I...touch you?"

"Not yet," I smirked and moved further down to his collarbone. I left open-mouthed kisses all over it and stopped to admire his tattoo. Technically I had been the one who had encouraged him to get it. It was so small, but it held so much meaning behind it. My fingers were tracing along the tattoo, soothing Heeseung. He felt calm. He felt at peace. He felt connected to me. When my fingers traced lower and experimentally touched his nipple, he let out a whimper. Bingo.

"Sensitive much?"

He didn't answer, embarrassed.

"I asked you something, Prince," I said with a less kind voice.

"Yes, Mami. I-I'm sensitive, but you already knew that."

It was true. Since the start of our friendship he had showed his vulnerability and sensitivity. He never liked it when I jokingly roasted him, only being into compliments and praises. Praising. I bet he'd be into that.

He whimpered out a 'Mami' when I attached my lips to his nipple. Trying to not shock his body too much, I only gave a quick kitten lick, yet it seemed to affect him a lot when he couldn't hold back a sole whimper. I couldn't tell if it were because of the sensitivity provided by the blindfold or because he had sensitive nipples. Either way, I wanted to test how much I could make him feel.

To give him a little sensation without touching him, I breathed on the wet nipple so he shivered a little at the coldness. He put both of his hands on each edge of the tub to stabilize himself, feeling like he could lose the bare control he had now that I found a weak spot of his. I flattened my tongue and licked against him, making him quiver.

"M-M-Mami," he stuttered breathily. He wasn't trying to call me, nor was he trying to tell me anything — my actions simply lit a part of him that seemed to love my title. He knew exactly how to turn me on and this was the first time we had ever been intimate. It was actually cute how my best friend was so accustomed to both mine and his title. Yeonjun's title, I meant.

I reached my hand under the surface of the water and felt up his thigh. He moaned. Yes. Moaned. At a simple touch. Ashamed of the moan, he let go of one of the edges and brought his hand over his mouth, making him lose a part of his balance. "Don't keep your sounds to yourself, Prince. Give them to me," I ordered.

Smirking against his skin, I started sucking which caused a gasp to erupt at the sudden stimulation. "M-Mami, Mami—" he whimpered loudly. He had tried to keep his noises to himself until now, but although it hurt his pride a little, he liked pleasing me.

How could whimpers sound so beautiful? They were so angelic and graceful, contrary to the scene of sinning. I retracted from him to admire the view. One nipple was red and swollen and the other one was left untouched. Each muscular arm was resting on each edge, trying not to move a millimeter. The blindfold was covering part of his face yet matched with his feverish blush. His mouth was agape, letting the whimpers I loved oh so much out every now and then. I was happy I hadn't gone for the cliché bubble bath, because now that the water was clear I could see his naked body — every part from his beauteously tattooed upper body to his thick stone-hard thighs and dick.

But there was one part of his body that I couldn't see. One part that was magnificent and that I needed to see. "Turn around," I whispered in his ear.

"W-What?"

"Turn around and show me your butt, Prince," I clarified and waited for him to move.

Unsurely, he supported himself on the edges and sat up. Although he couldn't see he could feel, so he had no difficulty turning around and putting his hands on the edge he had been resting his back on until now. He arched his back, adding to the sex appeal that the tub already delivered. Damn, how could an ass be that good-looking? How could—

"C-Can you spank me?" he interrupted me from my thoughts.

Did I even know my best friend? Or did he know me so well that he knew that was exactly what I wanted to do in that moment?

"What do you say, Prince?"

Good boy knew the answer, "Please."

"You'll need to beg a little more than that," I said teasingly, making him swallow yet another piece of his pride.

"Can you, please, please, spank me, Mami? I've been so good until now; don't I deserve it?"

He made a fair point. And he also confirmed my theory of him having a praise kink.

"Yes, you do, Prince. You've been so obedient until now, of course you deserve a little pain."

His cheeks tinted pink. Yes, he did indeed have a praise kink.

Suddenly I spanked him, creating a loud echo of skin-to-skin sound. He jolted forward with a whine, not expecting the hit since he couldn't see me or my hand in the air. His cheeks jiggled and I swore that my ex had never made me this wet before as I felt my wetness drip down my thighs.

"H-Harder, please, Mami."

"Since you're such a good prince for me, of course!" Those words. He loved hearing them. He knew I probably had those thoughts already, since he's aware he's a good boy, but hearing me say them made his heart race. Once again, I hit his skin and made him jolt forward from the harsh touch. Except this time, he moaned out my title louder. He held his head down, adding to the submission.

"M-Mami—"

"You want more, Prince?"

"Yes, plea—"

Spank! Before he even could finish his answer, my hand was back on his cheek again — I had already predicted his answer. Now one of his cheeks had my red handprint on it, matching his blindfold and blush, whilst the other cheek had no mark. And I was going to keep it that way. Asymmetry is beautiful.

His blindfold, nipple and cheek weren't the only things red. The part of his body that needed me the most hadn't gotten any attention yet. His dick's color stood out from most of his body and the way he reacted to small touches could only hint at him needing me to touch it.

"Turn around," I ordered him again.

"W-What— But you haven't—"

"Do you want me to touch your prince part?" I disrupted him.

"Y-Yes."

"Then turn around and show it to me, Prince."

He let go of the tub and turned around in the water, making sure to be comfortable when resting his back against it because he knew he'd stay in that position for a while. He heard how I got into the tub too. The water was rippling, and my feet were touching the tub; he could both feel and hear that I got in. Slowly, as to not drive any water out, I sank down onto his lap and put my hands on the tub on either side of his head. The feeling of my smooth skin on his indicated I had taken off the lingerie. That only meant one thing. I drew closer to him and whispered in his ear a million-dollar question: "Do you want your dick inside me?"

Gulping, he nodded promptly.

"Use your words, Prince," I sang.

He took another gulp before speaking, "Y-Yes, please, Mami."

"Good boy," I praised and watched as his true smile made an appearance like it'd done many times tonight.

Only to form an 'o' and let a long moan out as I sat down and got filled up by his dick deliciously. "Ah~ M-Mami~" The sensitivity of waiting and being blindfolded added with my tightness was what brought out his embarrassingly loud moan.

I needed to get used to the size since he was bigger than my last lover. In the meantime, I decided to get back to his stunning neck and kiss it. He had two prominent birthmarks under his Adam's apple; the left one was higher up and the right one was closer to his collarbone. Since I can remember I had liked them. They were a distinctive feature of his, just like his tattoos. I kissed both birthmarks and started moving up and down slowly on his dick. This wasn't going to be a hard fuck session; this was going to be a slow and soft lovemaking session because he was my prince. For tonight at least.

He sporadically let out moans that ranged from high to low pitched, long to short lasting — all of them were music to my ears — a love song I'd think of every now and then when I didn't have my prince by my side. The sound of the water moving each time I did was the background music. I started marking his neck with beautiful love bites, not hickeys, because these marks were out of love. Love and pride, as I wanted everyone to see that he was mine.

As I sucked harder on his neck, his moans turned into constant whimpers. He didn't know what this feeling was. Never had he ever made love with someone before. Sure, he'd been caring in bed but never had he felt this cared for before. On the other hand, it wasn't my first time. I had done this to Yeonjun every time I wanted him to know how much he meant to me (all the time). But, although this was an illusion me and Heeseung had created, it felt real.

"Ma-Mami, can you go rougher on me? Please?" At that I sunk my teeth into his collarbone, not the one with the tattoo, but the bare one. I didn't want to cover the meaning behind the tattoo, instead I wanted to cover the other part of skin, so I'd be the one who in a way adorned both sides. The friend in me was in his tattoo and the lover in me was in his mark. He bit his lower lip to try to conceal the pathetic whimper, failing while doing so. Sure, he loved being taken care of, but he also loved pain.

My thrusts were slow, yet long lasting, like the memory of this night would be soon. This felt surreal. Our connection. Our love. Our everything. The love bites on his neck and the literal bite mark on his collarbone would be enough proof the next morning when Heeseung would wake up that this night in fact had happened.

He let go of his lower lip and let the whimpers out freely, not caring that it hurt his pride because when you're in love your pride doesn't matter as much as it did before. He was reaching his breaking point and so was I but we both purposely held our orgasms back. We didn't want this to end. We wanted this love to last as long as it possibly could. We knew that the next day we would go back to being best friends; there'd be no more Prince and Mami. We knew that we would be gone like the pink water in this tub would be in the morning. The marks would remain on his neck and shoulder the next morning...but the illusion of love wouldn't.

"A-Are you cumming?" I asked, drunk on love.

"Y-Yes, b-but I can wait." We had already been at it for longer than an hour — even the water was cold — but that wasn't enough. We were both exhausted, both mentally because it was late and physically because of the lovemaking.

"I know you want to cum, Prince," I said, not wanting him to wear himself out.

"C-Can you choke me first, Mami? Please, I've a-always wanted y-you to do that to me," he mumbled.

I didn't answer him, instead I let go of the edge and circled my fingers around his neck. For most people, choking was some kinky shit. But for us, it was romance. I was quite literally holding his life in my hand and he trusted me with it. He trusted me with his whole life, and I didn't let him down. That's a part of love; letting yourself into a vulnerable position, knowing the other person can hurt you, but staying because you have faith in that they would love you instead.

In this moment, he had everything he didn't know he wanted. He felt like he'd arrived in utopia by accident. There was nothing he wanted to change. Nothing. And neither did I. His marks were asymmetrical, but that was in my eyes perfect. I tightened my grip on his neck a little, making him choke out a small whiney moan. At the same time, I felt my core aching and his dick pulsating. We needed to cum. Physically we needed to. But emotionally we didn't want to.

"Let's cum together," I said and let go of his neck

"Please, just a little more," he begged.

"We can't hold back, and you know it," I stated.

"Please, Mami," he cracked his voice. I looked at his face. His face was red, and the blindfold had wet patches. The patches weren't there because of the water splashing on him (I had made sure to not splash any on his face), they were there because they'd gotten out of his eyes. He was crying, not wanting us to come to an end. But we needed to. He wasn't my boyfriend; he was only playing the role of my boyfriend. I treated him as if he were Yeonjun, not Heeseung.

For the first time ever, I kissed him. Not on his body, but on his lips. He returned the kiss with just as much thirst as me. Surrounded by water, yet we thirsted for each other. We needed to savor this before it ran out. I tangled my hands into his soft hair, not caring if I ruined his hair anymore. I didn't care. All I cared about was this moment. For the first time this night, he let go of the tub fully and put his hands on my skin, letting them relish and remember every curve and edge before he'd never get to touch me like this ever again.

I paused the kiss and said for the last time, "Let's cum together."

"Can you take th-the blindfold off first?"

Truth was that he wanted to see me so he could have a visual memory of that one time he made love with his best friend. During all of this, he'd had a blindfold and although he felt that everything was real, he wanted to know for sure he wasn't dreaming. I untied it and threw it away to who-cares-where. He opened his eyes and took in the view of me. I was naked. I was raw. I was vulnerable. I had no layers shrouding any part of me. "I love you," he said, looking into my eyes.

Holding his face in my hands, I said, "I love you too."

And there we reached our climax.

The end.

{One year later}

Valentine's Day.

The happiest day of the year for couples.

I walked into our bedroom and was met by a wonderful view. My real boyfriend was standing in front of our bed. "I missed you so much, Baby," I smiled and kissed his cheek as per usual.

He was clad in only a pair of boxers and nothing else. "I have a little surprise for you."

"Oh really?" I asked, amused, and sat down on the bed as he stood in front of me.

He coughed to clear his throat and looked serious, "I've been keeping a little secret from you for a little while now..."

What did he mean? Had he been reconsidering our relationship? Was I going to relive the same heartbreak as last year?

I must've looked worried, because suddenly he broke out of the serious trance he tried to be in and smiled at me. Slowly he pulled down his underwear to reveal the little surprise.

Right on his V-line.

A tattoo.

Of a little crown.

Because he is my prince.

✦ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ✧ ੈ ✧

“Me with no makeup, you in the bathtub

Bubbles and bubbly, ooh

This is a pleasure, feel like we never

Act this regular

(…)

Kiss me and take off your clothes

Imagine a world like that”

—ari

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aihoshiino · 2 months ago

Text

chapter 166 thoughts

As of chapter 166, Oshi no Ko has finished a roughly four-and-a-half year run started back in 2020. While there's some speculation about an epilogue or some extra content in volume 16 when it drops, this is where the main story ends. And you know what that means!!!

OSHI NO KO HAS OFFICIALLY ENDED WITHOUT ADDRESSING OR ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT RUBY KISSED HER BROTHER IN CHAPTER 143

please understand that this is FUCKING BOGUS

I'll probably do a longer post on this subject specifically, but my main critique of 143 when the chapter dropped was that while I liked the individual beats in it and I was really glad to see Akasaka finally addressing this tension bubbling underneath Aqua and Ruby's relationship, the immediate swerve away from showing us the aftermath of that kiss felt to me like an admission that the story was going to needlessly draw this out even more. Now that the story has ended and we can see that moment had literally no impact on the plot or even the character dynamics, I'd like to revise that statement - it feels like an admission of compromise. It feels like crumbs thrown to AquRuby fans to tempt them to keep reading and to stir up the waters of the ship wars, so people would keep reading and stay invested in the manga right to the very end. But most of all, it feels deeply disrespectful to both Aqua and Ruby as characters. Rather than exploring their feelings and giving both of them interiority and complexity in relation to incest or even just fucking acknowledging that the kiss had happened and letting their dynamic evolve, the series just memory holes the entire event and asks that you do too. Rather than letting Ruby have any development whatsoever as pertains to that relationship or, god forbid, let a female character move on romantically from the male lead, the series ends with her feelings so up in the air that I literally could not tell you what she thinks of Aqua by the time he dies.

ANYWAY… FINAL CHAPTER. BREATHES OUT VERY HARD.

I really can't believe it's taken us until the final chapter to actually deal with Ruby's grief over Aqua lol. We got a snippet of it last chapter but it was so brief that it really just felt like a tease. I also just think it's kind of bizarre that we're spending this little time on Ruby having feelings about Aqua's death to the extent that I have no idea how or when she found out about it.

It's also kind of hard to feel particularly strongly about Ruby's grief when the chapter doesn't really bother to explore it all that much. It's just a montage of Ruby quite literally Screaming, Crying and Throwing Up while Akane dispassionately narrates it all. The art also doesn't really help in terms of connecting with the emotions at play - I usually really like Mengo's expression work and the way she depicts extreme emotions but this all just felt like of… I don't know how else to put it. Goofy??? Is that an insane thing to say about Ruby grieving her brother???

Idk, something about both the panelling and just the extreme on-the-noseness of Ruby, again, literally Screaming, Crying Throwing Up while she's wearing a Burning cosplay Just In Case You, The Audience, Didn't Get It only for her to abruptly be done crying with no exploration or insight as to what's going on in her head that allows her to move forward.

Honestly, this is kind of the issue with everyone in the cast. The resolution is just sort of "Aqua died and we were sad about it but then we stopped being sad". I know what the story is trying to go for here - it's trying to express that even when you're in pain, life goes on and so you have to find a way to go on with it. But the result is that we spend all this time oogling at their pain without spending equivalent or even meaningful time on their recovery process.

It feels both excessive and undercooked at the same time and I'm left with the same icky, voyeuristic feeling I got from Aqua's funeral last chapter. This should be the point in the story at which we empathize with Ruby the most, but she remains a frustratingly distant figure right to the final pages. Part of this is an unfortunate consequence of Akane's narration directing these final chapters meaning that we're hearing about Ruby from an outsider's perspective and thus don't really see what's going on in her head… but if I can be frank, this has been an issue of Aka's with Ruby in particular basically nonstop since chapter 123.

As others & myself have noted, despite the absolutely catastrophic downward spiral Ruby is in at that point, Aqua revealing himself as Gorou basically flips it all off like a switch. There's some mild lipservice paid to the idea that Ruby is just using her dependency on Gorou to prop herself up and it's pointed out that the issues that contributed to her breakdown haven't actually been resolved - but none of these issues are ever even acknowledged again, let alone resolved. So, functionally, that reveal does fix all Ruby's problems in the space of a single chapter and the result is, again, that we spend multiple chapters gourging on depictions of Ruby's absolute rock bottom only for her to ping back to normal like a lightswitch. As such, the depictions of her pain feel less like explorations of Ruby's interiority and more like voyeuristic oogling at Ruby's misery and trauma and the effect is that the resolution to it all is both unsatisfying and a little gross. The result is that it feels like Akasaka is just indulgently mining the imagery of cute girls suffering because it causes simple thoughts neuron activation but doesn't respect these girls enough as characters to build them back up.

It doesn't help that this is basically the in-universe excuse for Ruby's career further skyrocketing. Instead of Ruby becoming a star on her own merits as the story keeps insisting she was supposed to, she's artificially buoyed by the public's morbid fascination with her tragedy. If I was feeling charitable towards the story right now, I would say this is an avenue of intentional critique but… well, I don't feel super charitable about the story right now lol

I WILL say that the one part of this chapter I did just uncomplicatedly like was the beat of Mem trying to suspend activities (presumably in the wake of her grief for Aqua) only for Kana to basically immediately explode into her room and help her get back on her feet. It's a beat that would've been much more effective if we'd, you know, seen it, but I otherwise enjoyed it and I thought it was sweet.

But. pbbbbtttt. I guess I can't talk around it any longer… let's get into the Dome concert.

To start things off on the immediately worst note possible, Akane describes Ruby performing at the Dome as being 'everyone's dream', including Aqua's. I'm reminded once again of the strange turn the story took in insisting that um, actually, performing at the Dome was totes Ai's dream all along (even though she literally didn't give a shit even a week before she was due to perform there herself) so Ruby performing there is fulfilling that dream for her!!! and I can't help but wonder if this abrupt shift in focus is an attempt to make readers forget what Ai's actual dream was - to see her beloved children grow up happy and healthy. Hell, it wasn't even really Aqua's dream, until the story suddenly had to try and convince us that his entire purpose for existence was to kill himself so Ruby could be an idol for slightly longer than she would've otherwise. The only people whose dreams she's textually fulfilling are Ichigo and Miyako and Ruby herself, but…

Honestly, is this really Ruby's dream anymore?

Who is Hoshino Ruby? What does she want? Why does she want it? These should be the very least of what we can concretely say about not only a protagonist but a character who has become a central figure of the entire story as Ruby has, but with the way Oshi no Ko has warped and distorted her, I find myself increasingly unsure of what the story wants her to be or how I should answer those questions.What does Ruby feel about Aqua? Was she still in love with him? Had she moved on, romantically? Was she still waiting for a response to her confession? Did she finally realize it was probably kind of shitty to respond to her brother going "lowkey wanna kms" by sticking her tongue down his throat? I Guess We'll Never Know.

This extends to whatever the fuck Ruby's relationship with idols and being an idol is. Almost the entirety of Ruby's time in the story has been spent reiterating over and over that Ruby cannot just be an idol who imitates Ai and that to truly shine, she needs to step out of her mom's shadow and shine in her own way. Ruby even literally tells Kana in no uncertain terms in 137 - "I'll be a star in my own way. I won't be like Mama."

While this has always been the text of the story, as I've pointed out before, the actual art with which Ruby's idolhood depicts her basically just as Ai 2.0. It relies so heavily on mining the imagery of Ai's charisma and personality as an idol and using them as the measure of Ruby's success as an idol that Ruby essentially has no visual or conceptual identity of her own as an idol. She's just Ai, But Arbitrarily Better, For Reasons The Narrative Fails To Actually Establish But Hopes That You Just Accept Anyway. This was always kind of annoying, but now that friction seems to have been resolved by… just making her Ai 2.0, But Arbitrarily Better (etc, etc) in the text as well. The fact that we're given no further insight as to Ruby's feelings and continue to just have Akane Explain Ruby's Character Arc to the camera also doesn't help.

All this combines to make the Dome concert and the final few pages feel exceptionally cold in a way I really don't think was intended by Akasaka. Yes, that splash page was nice and flashy but… I just felt nothing. I have no idea if or why Ruby cares about this. And even though the Dome concert has been hyped up through the entire story as the peak of Ruby's achievements as an idol, I feel no sense of accomplishment in her finally being there - not just because her journey to it was basically sneezed at us across two panels, but because it just feels hollow as a victory lap for Ruby. Again, she feels so distant and abstracted as a character that I can't bring myself to feel very strongly about her good or bad.

I think the perfect encapsulation of this are the final four pages of the story. Ruby's words here are very clearly intended to be a callback to Ai's words to Gorou in chapter one but as @all-of-her-light pointed out in our initial discussions of the chapter, Ruby very much does not have an equivalent to Ai's conclusion that she nevertheless wants and values the opportunity to find personal happiness and fulfillment outside of being an idol. Are we supposed to believe that simply being an idol is all that Ruby needs to achieve a similar degree of happiness and fulfillment? Is there no more to her than that?

I've seen a lot of people interpret this ending as exceptionally bleak and, as usual, gleefully predicting Ruby's immanent suicide because her beloved oniichansensei isn't around but this is indulging in, if you'll allow me to be frank, some pretty transparently ship-motivated flanderization. Despite what certain sections of the fandom would like to believe, Aqua and Ruby's lives, past and current, have never revolved around each other to the exclusion of every other relationship in their life. Ruby has a massive support network of people who love and care for her and actively want her to get back on her feet. I can one hundred percent believe that she does not need Aqua in her life to be happy and content.

The issue is that we don't see enough of Ruby to understand that ourselves. Again, she has become such a distant figure with so little insight into what she's thinking and why that this ending is basically a Rorschach test in which you can interpret basically whatever the hell you want or assume because we have so little canon basis to support or debunk our assumptions.

and yes. don't think i didn't see them. it IS both grimly hilarious and weirdly tonally appropriate for this ending that ruby has a bunch of oshi goods of ai and aqua including their fucking autographs set up to say goodbye to every day.

AND…… WE'RE DONE!!! THAT'S OSHI NO KO, BABY!!!! well, technically, there's going to be a 20 page extra chapter in volume 16 but I don't see it being big or substantive enough to meaningfully change my feelings about the ending so… I guess we're leaving it here. Damn. Feels crazy to be done with it.

I'll probably do a bigger post down the line about my thoughts on the ending as a whole but in terms of just How This Chapter Made Me feel, I guess the word is just… meh! It's definitely not an ending I like and I think the execution is sloppy and rushed but I also just don't really have the energy to feel angry about it. Maybe that's sad in its own way but tbh… I still really love Oshi no Ko! I still find it engaging and I find the characters I enjoy rewarding to talk about. I like the artistry of the anime adaptation. I don't blame anybody else for being so turned off by this ending that they're done with the series but for me, I like what I like about OnK too much that this ending could retroactively ruin it for me. Whatever else happens with the OnK franchise, whatever directions the anime and live-action take, this will always be the series that gave me Ai and the Hoshino family and. look at me. look at what she's done to my brain. could I really ask for anything more than that?

That being said, I'm definitely not done with discussing the series! I have fics to write (including a VERY exciting large scale project lined up with some friends), my Ai analysis post to finish and I also want to do a re-read of the series and finish my anime rewatch. I'll be here to discuss Oshi no Ko as long as I have things to say about it and as long as you guys will have me! Despite how the series ended, I've had a genuinely wonderful experience in the fandom and I really don't want to let go of the little community we've built together just because the series is done. I'm Ai's fan for all eternity!!!

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #onk spoilers #chapter reviews #IT ALL... RETURNS..... TO NOTHING....#IT ALL COMES #TUMBLING DOWN TUMBLING DOWN #TUMBLING DOOOOOWN

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reidmarieprentiss · 5 months ago

Text

I Love You

Summary: Spencer tries to redeem himself after ruining everything he had with you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: light smut (18+), pain of breakup, voicing that pain

Word count: 8.2k

a/n: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee part two to i love you (i would write part 3) —hi was gonna wait to post butttt im having a bad monday so i wanted to see these fellas have their happy ending

masterlist part one

July, 2008

“Hey,” you said softly, your eyes searching his, filled with emotions.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

A silence hung between you, thick with unspoken words, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if both of you were trying to navigate the delicate terrain of this moment, unsure of where to begin.

“Come in,” you finally said, stepping aside to let him enter. Spencer nodded, stepping into your apartment with familiarity and trepidation. As you closed the door behind him, you couldn’t help but notice how he seemed almost hesitant, as if afraid to disrupt the space you had built for yourself in his absence.

You both moved to the living room, where he sat on the edge of the couch, his hands fidgeting slightly in his lap. You took a seat across from him, giving him the space he seemed to need.

“I’ve been thinking about what to say to you for months,” Spencer began, his voice tentative, eyes focused on his hands. “But now that I’m here, I realize that no amount of words can really make up for what I did.”

You remained quiet, letting him speak, knowing that this was something he needed to get out.

“I was jealous. Insecure. I let my fears control me, and I ended up pushing away the one person who meant everything to me,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. “I know I hurt you, and I can’t take that back. But I need you to know how sorry I am. I’m so sorry for doubting you, for accusing you, for letting my insecurities get in the way of what we had.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret that weighed heavily on him. It tugged at your heart, but you weren’t ready to let go of the pain just yet.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice steady but soft, “I appreciate you wanting to fix things, to be willing to admit your feelings. But what happened… it wasn’t between us. It was just you. I wasn’t a part of any of the decision-making, or the understanding. The only part of our relationship that I was present for towards the end, was the breakup. You left me out of everything and made up your own stories and facts about me, your loving, devoted girlfriend. I put all of my trust into you, and I only wish you had done the same for me.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy with the truth that had been buried for too long. Spencer’s face paled as he absorbed what you were saying, the weight of his actions settling on him like a burden he could never fully shake off.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I let my fears and insecurities take control, and I didn’t give you the trust and respect you deserved. I created a narrative in my head, one that wasn’t based on reality, and I let it destroy what we had.”

You nodded, your heart aching but resolute. “Spencer, relationships are built on trust, communication, and partnership. You can’t love someone and keep them at arm’s length, making decisions about them without including them. That’s not how it works.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. “You’re right. I failed you in every way that mattered. I don’t know how to fix that, but I want to try. I want to earn back your trust, if that’s even possible.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of the past year pressing down on you. “It’s not something that can be fixed overnight, Spencer. And honestly, I don’t know if I’m ready to even try right now. I need time to think, to figure out what I want.”

Spencer nodded, his expression solemn. “I understand. I’m willing to wait, to give you all the time you need. I just needed you to know how sorry I am, and how much I regret everything I did.”

The room fell silent again, but this time it was a silence of understanding—a mutual acknowledgment of the pain and the need for space. It wasn’t a resolution, but it was a step toward something, even if that something was simply closure.

“Thank you for coming here, Spencer,” you said finally, your voice softer now. “I needed to hear this, and I think you needed to say it.”

“I did,” he agreed, standing up slowly. “I’ll go now. But if you ever want to talk, or… anything, I’m here.”

“No… you don’t have to leave,” you said quickly, surprising even yourself with the words.

Spencer paused, looking at you with confusion and hope. “What? Why not?”

“You took a three-hour train to be here,” you continued, your voice softer now. “We can… still be friends. Friends spend time together. Right?”

Spencer’s eyes searched yours, as if trying to gauge whether you truly meant it. “Right,” he finally said, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You nodded, feeling a small sense of relief. “So, stay. We can talk, or just… be here. No pressure.”

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly sat back down, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “I’d like that,” he admitted, the words carrying a sincerity that made your heart ache.

And so, you both sat there, the remnants of what you once had still lingering in the air, but now with a new understanding—a step toward healing, toward something different. Maybe it was the beginning of a friendship, or maybe it was just a way to start mending what had been broken. Either way, it felt like the right thing to do, and for now, that was enough.

—

As you both settled into the couch, the initial tension began to dissipate, replaced by a more comfortable atmosphere. Spencer shifted slightly, trying to find the right words to break the ice, but you beat him to it.

“So,” you began with a teasing smile, “have you read any good books lately? Or are you still just hoarding them?”

Spencer chuckled, the familiar sound bringing a sense of warmth to the room. “Hoarding? I prefer to think of it as curating a personal library.”

“Sure, sure,” you laughed. “And how many of those ‘curated’ books have you actually read?”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “More than you might think! But okay, I’ll admit, the collection has outgrown my reading pace a bit.”

“A bit?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “I remember you saying that about three bookshelves ago.”

Spencer smiled, feeling more at ease. “Well, you know how it is. So many books, so little time. But I did finish that mystery novel you recommended.”

“Oh, you mean the one where the butler actually didn’t do it?” you grinned, leaning back against the couch.

“Yes! I was convinced it was him the entire time,” Spencer admitted, shaking his head. “They really got me with that twist.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “I knew you’d like it! I told you it wasn’t as predictable as it seemed.”

“Okay, okay, you were right,” he conceded, a playful tone in his voice. “What about you? Been to any good concerts lately, or are you too busy performing in them?”

“Touché,” you said, giving him a mock glare. “But actually, I did go to one recently! It was kind of nice to be in the audience for a change, you know?”

Spencer nodded, a genuine smile on his face. “I can imagine. It’s probably a different experience when you’re not the one on stage.”

“It really is,” you agreed. “I got to just enjoy the music without worrying about anything. It was a good reminder of why I love it so much.”

The conversation flowed easily after that, the two of you slipping back into a comfortable rhythm, sharing stories and light-hearted banter. It felt natural, almost like old times, but with a new understanding and a lighter, more cautious energy. It wasn’t the same as before, but it was something, and it felt good to just be in each other’s company again.

—

Spencer left later that evening, feeling lighter but not completely at ease. The conversation had been a step in the right direction, but he knew there was still a lot of work to do to truly prove to you how sorry he was. The road to rebuilding your trust was going to be long, and he was prepared to do whatever it took.

As the door closed behind him, you found yourself sitting in the quiet of your apartment, reflecting on the unexpected turn of events. Despite everything, Spencer had always been a significant part of your life, and it seemed that, in some ways, he still was. The emotions of the day swirled in your mind, a mix of old memories and new beginnings.

Instinctively, you reached for a notebook and pen, letting your thoughts flow onto the pages. Spencer had been your muse for years, inspiring some of your most heartfelt songs. That hadn’t changed, even after all the pain. Now, as you started scribbling down ideas, you felt that familiar spark—his presence still lingered, giving rise to new melodies and lyrics. The words came naturally, you weren’t sure where this new song would lead or what it would become, but for now, it was enough to let the music carry your emotions, just as it always had.

—

Spencer knew that rebuilding your trust would take time and consistent effort, so he began with the little things, the everyday gestures that showed he was thinking of you.

He started texting you whenever something small reminded him of you—a funny sign he saw on his way to work, a quirky fact he knew you’d appreciate, or just a picture of his coffee when it was served in one of those oversized mugs you always loved. The messages were brief but thoughtful, his way of staying connected without pushing too hard.

When you didn’t answer his calls, he left sweet, friendly voicemails. “Hey, it’s me,” he’d say, his voice warm with a hint of nervousness. “I just wanted to hear your voice, but no worries if you’re busy. I hope you’re having a good day. Call me back if you can. If not, I’ll catch you later.” His tone was always light, never demanding, just letting you know he was thinking of you.

Every time you finished a show, you’d return to your hotel room to find a beautiful bouquet of flowers waiting for you. The notes attached were always simple, but they made your heart ache a little less. I know you were amazing tonight. I can hear the crowd from across the ocean. –Spencer was your favorite one, always signed with just his first name, a touch of the familiar that made you smile despite yourself.

Spencer also made it his mission to read every book you had ever recommended. Late at night, after finishing a chapter, he would call you to share his thoughts. “Hey, I just finished that mystery novel you suggested,” he’d say, excitement evident in his voice. “You were right, the twist was incredible! I didn’t see it coming at all. I’d love to hear what you thought when you read it.” Sometimes you answered, and sometimes you didn’t, but he always left a message, continuing the conversation as if you were right there with him.

These small, consistent gestures slowly chipped away at the walls between you. They weren’t grand declarations, but they were genuine, thoughtful, and persistent—a reflection of Spencer’s commitment to making things right, one step at a time.

—

September, 2008

You had a show tonight in Amsterdam, and the city seemed to glow with a charm that made you fall in love with it a little more every day. The weather was perfect, with a gentle breeze and sunshine that reflected off the canals, making everything feel just a bit more magical. You couldn’t have asked for a better setting to prepare for your performance. You were soaking it all in, convinced that this country might just be one of your favorite stops on the tour.

But that sense of contentment was abruptly interrupted when you left your hotel that morning for a walk with Emerson, your head of security. The usual routine—just a quiet stroll to clear your mind before the day’s whirlwind began. But today, there was something different.

As you stepped out of the hotel, your eyes adjusted to the bright morning light, and then they landed on a figure standing next to Emerson. It took a second for your brain to catch up with what your eyes were seeing, but when it did, your heart skipped a beat.

Spencer.

He was standing there, looking slightly out of place but unmistakably beautiful. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his posture a mix of nervousness and resolve. When he saw you, his eyes softened, and the hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

“Spencer?” you said, surprise and confusion mingling in your voice as you stepped closer.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice tentative but hopeful. “I was in the neighborhood. I thought… maybe I could catch your show tonight.”

You glanced at Emerson, who gave a small nod, signaling that Spencer had already been vetted and that his presence wasn’t an issue from a security standpoint. That left you to decide how you felt about him being here—unannounced, thousands of miles from home.

“You were in the neighborhood, huh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow with skepticism and amusement.

“Mhm,” Spencer nodded, his expression serious for a moment before a small, teasing smile tugged at his lips. “Just passing through.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his attempt to play along. “You didn’t come here to see anything? Anyone in particular?”

He pretended to think for a moment, then shook his head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “No? Why would I do that?” he teased, his tone light but carrying a hint of the vulnerability you knew he was trying to mask.

You rolled your eyes playfully, feeling some of the tension ease between you. “Well, since you’re here, you might as well see a show tonight. I hear it’s going to be a good one.”

Spencer’s smile widened, the relief evident in his eyes as he realized you weren’t upset. “I’d like that,” he said softly. “I’d really like that.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, the light banter easing some of the weight that had been hanging over your relationship. There was still so much to talk about, so much to work through, but for now, the fact that Spencer was here—willing to put in the effort and show up—meant something. And that was a start.

—

Emerson found a small table just within view, keeping a discreet yet vigilant eye on you and Spencer as the two of you settled into a cozy café along the canal. The picturesque setting, with its cobblestone streets and gently flowing water, seemed to work its magic, casting a warm, romantic glow over everything. You could see the old-world charm of Amsterdam reflected in the brown of Spencer’s eyes, and the peaceful atmosphere made it easy to forget, if only for a moment, the unresolved tensions between you two.

As you both sipped your coffee, the conversation naturally flowed, light and easy, with a hint of the playfulness that had always existed between you.

“This place is amazing,” Spencer remarked, looking around with genuine appreciation. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere quite like it.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you agreed, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face. “But I have to admit, I’m a little biased. I’ve always had a soft spot for places like this—where everything feels timeless.”

Spencer smiled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “Timeless suits you,” he said, his voice soft but filled with meaning.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, the compliment catching you off guard. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?” you teased, trying to downplay the effect his words had on you.

“Only when it comes to you,” he replied, his tone slightly more serious but still playful enough to keep things light.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his flirtatiousness. “Careful, Dr. Reid. You’re getting dangerously close to charming your way back into my good graces.”

Spencer leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mix of intelligence and mischief. “Is that so? Because I was under the impression I had quite a bit of ground to make up.”

You raised an eyebrow, matching his playful tone. “Oh, you definitely do. But I have to say, this impromptu visit to Amsterdam is a pretty solid start.”

Spencer’s smile widened, emboldened by the fact that you hadn’t shut him down. “Well, I’ve always been a fan of spontaneous gestures. Especially when they involve canals and coffee with a beautiful woman.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Spencer, you’re laying it on thick today.”

“Just trying to make the most of the moment,” he said, his voice softening as he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

For a moment, it was easy to forget that you hadn’t made up your mind about where things stood between you. The romantic setting, the easy conversation, and the lingering affection between you made it feel like everything was just as it had been before. You allowed yourself to bask in the moment, enjoying the way Spencer’s presence made you feel—light, happy, and maybe even a little bit hopeful.

As you both continued to flirt and laugh, the city of Amsterdam seemed to wrap you in its embrace, making it easy to pretend, just for a little while, that all the hurt and uncertainty were far behind you.

—

While you were whisked away for sound checks and concert preparations, Spencer found himself with some time to explore the charming streets of Amsterdam on his own. The city was a maze of narrow alleys, quaint shops, and hidden gems, each turn offering something new to discover. As he wandered, Spencer stumbled upon a small, local florist tucked away on a quiet street corner. The shop was brimming with vibrant blooms, their sweet scent filling the air. It was then that an idea struck him.

—

That evening, as you took the stage, you felt a different kind of energy pulsing through you. The anticipation of the performance always brought a thrill, but tonight was special. You knew Spencer was somewhere in the crowd, watching you with those thoughtful eyes of his. It was hard not to shine a little brighter, knowing he was there, sharing this moment with you.

Even with thousands of faces in the crowd, you could sense him out there, unwavering in his attention. Knowing he was watching, supporting you, made you feel invincible. For the first time in a long while, you fully embraced the moment, letting the music and the crowd's energy fill you up.

When the concert ended, the thunderous applause echoed in your ears as you walked off the stage, your heart racing—not just from the performance, but from the anticipation of seeing Spencer again. The night wasn’t over, and you couldn’t wait to see what it had in store.

—

The ride back to your hotel from the venue was charged with a new, palpable energy between you and Spencer. The city lights flickered past as you sat together in the backseat, his hand gently holding yours, and you didn’t pull away. You let him hold onto you, both of you savoring the quiet connection that had started to rebuild itself.

When you arrived at your hotel, Emerson gave you a goodnight with a knowing wink before leaving you and Spencer alone. As you opened the door to your room, you were greeted by a breathtaking sight—every surface in the vintage, pristine room was covered in flower bouquets. The rich scent of fresh blooms filled the air, making the moment even more surreal.

“Spencer?” you called out, still taking in the unexpected surprise.

“Yes, Y/N?” he replied, his voice soft, almost nervous.

“You did this?” you asked, turning to face him with wide eyes.

“No, it was all Dylan,” he teased, trying to keep his tone light.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “He would never. He’s allergic to flowers.”

“Emerson?” Spencer suggested, his voice growing more uncertain as you began to slowly walk toward him.

“Nope,” you shook your head, a playful glint in your eye. “They have strict rules to follow. This would break a lot of them.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his mind racing as you closed the distance between you. “Then it seems like you have a secret admirer,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

“I wish I could properly thank them,” you said, your voice just above a whisper as you stopped right in front of him.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat as he looked down at you, his heart pounding in his chest. “How… how would you thank them? Just so I can pass the word on if I find them,” he asked, his voice barely steady.

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing his as you whispered, “I don’t think I can say… it’s explicit.”

His eyes darkened with desire, the playful banter between you intensifying the tension. Spencer’s breath hitched, his mind reeling as he struggled to keep his composure, realizing that perhaps, just perhaps, this night was about to become even more unforgettable.

“Maybe—shit,” Spencer stammered as you began kissing his neck, your hands skillfully unbuttoning his shirt. His words faltered as he tried to maintain the playful charade. “Maybe, if you showed me, I could tell them…”

You pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, a smirk playing on your lips. “Spencer, drop the act, or I’m kicking you out.”

He swallowed hard, his playful facade crumbling under the intensity of the moment. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice a mix of submission and anticipation.

Spencer leaned down to kiss you, his intentions clear in the warmth of his gaze, but you stepped back just in time, a playful smile dancing on your lips. He paused, momentarily thrown off by your sudden evasion, but then a glint of mischief sparked in his eyes.

You slowly dodged him, weaving around the vases of flowers that filled the room, sneaking glances at him over the tops of the beautiful petals. Each bouquet served as a playful barrier, giving you just enough of an edge to keep him at bay. Spencer, undeterred, followed you with the focused intensity of a predator stalking its prey, his movements deliberate yet light-hearted.

The room was filled with the scent of fresh blooms, but all you could focus on was the chase—the way Spencer’s eyes tracked your every move, the way his playful demeanor had resurfaced after being buried under months of tension. It was as if the playful spirit of your relationship had finally defrosted, melting away the distance that had grown between you.

As you ducked behind a particularly large vase, you caught a glimpse of him moving closer, his eyes locked on yours. He was enjoying the chase, and you could feel the thrill of the game building between you. You darted to the side, but he was faster, anticipating your move and closing the distance.

“Got you,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he finally cornered you against the wall, his arms bracketing you in. His smile was wide, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he leaned in close, leaving no more room for escape.

“Promise?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, yet filled with vulnerability.

Spencer’s eyes softened even more, understanding the weight of that single word. His expression grew serious, all the playfulness giving way to something deeper. He reached up, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“I promise,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “I won’t let you down again.”

With those words hanging in the air, the distance between you finally closed as Spencer leaned in to kiss you. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, as if he was savoring the moment, afraid to rush what felt so fragile. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and for a brief second, everything else faded away—the flowers, the room, the world outside—leaving just the two of you, wrapped in intimacy.

As the kiss deepened, the tentative touch gave way to something more urgent, more desperate. Spencer’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, his fingers pressing gently but firmly into your skin as if grounding himself in the reality of you being there, in his arms. You responded in kind, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, the soft strands slipping between your fingers as you pressed your body against his, seeking more of the warmth and comfort his presence brought.

The taste of him was intoxicating, a blend of familiarity and longing that you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much. His lips moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, taking their time to explore every curve and contour of your mouth, as if memorizing the sensation all over again. The kiss was filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long, now finally unleashed in the safety of this shared moment.

Your breath quickened as the heat between you grew, the banter from earlier now replaced with an intensity that left you both breathless. Spencer’s hands slid up your back, his touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake as he pressed you against the wall, his body a solid, reassuring presence against yours.

Every inch of you was aware of him—the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the subtle tremor in his hands as they roamed your body, the way his lips claimed yours with a possessive need that made your pulse race. The air around you crackled with the electricity of unspoken desires, the kind that had been dormant for far too long.

You felt the world around you blur, your senses overwhelmed by the feel, taste, and scent of him. Spencer’s lips left yours only to travel down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed soft, lingering kisses along the sensitive curve of your neck. A shiver ran through you, your body responding instinctively to the sensation, your head tilting slightly to grant him better access. His name slipped from your lips, a breathless whisper that held a world of meaning, of need, of budding trust.

He paused for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both caught your breath. The look in his eyes was one of pure, unfiltered emotion—love, desire, and a hint of the vulnerability that came with baring one’s soul to another.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, “I need you.”

The simple statement, filled with so much more than just physical desire, resonated deep within you. It wasn’t just about the touch or the kiss—it was about everything you had shared, everything you had lost, and everything you were beginning to find again. In that moment, you knew that this was more than just a kiss—it was a step toward healing, toward rebuilding what had been broken, and toward rediscovering the love that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to bloom again.

“You have me,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling inside you.

“I do?” Spencer asked, his eyes searching yours, filled with hope and disbelief.

“You do, Spencer,” you affirmed, your words laced with all the sincerity you felt in that moment.

With that, any lingering hesitation vanished. Spencer’s hands, warm and sure, found yours as you both slowly made your way toward the bed. The room seemed to pulse with the energy between you, every step heightening the anticipation that had been building all evening.

As you reached the edge of the bed, Spencer paused, his gaze locking onto yours, his eyes reflecting the depth of what was about to happen. He pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly, and in that moment, it was as if everything fell into place—every word, every gesture, every unspoken promise.

Gently, he guided you down onto the soft sheets, the world narrowing to just the two of you. The mattress dipped slightly under your combined weight, the sensation grounding you both in the reality of this moment. Spencer hovered above you, his hands framing your face as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and filled with the unspoken vows of what you were rebuilding together.

His lips moved against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm. His touch was careful, almost reverent, as though he was savoring every second, every sensation. His fingers trailed down the side of your face, brushing over your jawline before gently tracing the curve of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You felt the warmth of his body pressing against yours. The fabric of your clothes created a tantalizing friction between you, the anticipation building with every subtle movement. Spencer’s hand slid down to your waist, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of your shirt, igniting a trail of heat as he slowly lifted the fabric, his touch both hesitant and eager.

As he leaned in closer, his breath ghosted over your skin, leaving a tingling warmth in its wake. The weight of him above you was a comforting reminder of his presence, his body cocooning you in a protective embrace. His lips moved to your jaw, then to the delicate curve of your neck, where he pressed soft, lingering kisses, each one sending a wave of warmth cascading through your body.

You arched slightly beneath him, your hands finding their way to his back, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your touch. Spencer’s hand continued its exploration, moving from your waist to your hip, then down the curve of your thigh, his fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns that left you breathless.

The world outside the room faded away, leaving just the two of you enveloped in this moment of rediscovery. Every touch, every kiss, felt like a promise—of forgiveness, of healing, of a love that had been tested but refused to break. Spencer’s eyes met yours, a silent question lingering in them, and when you nodded, he smiled—a tender, genuine smile that spoke of the hope you both held for what lay ahead.

His lips found yours again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent, as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. The intensity of the moment wrapped around you both like a warm embrace, pulling you closer, dissolving any remaining doubts.

The soft fabric of your clothes slowly gave way under his touch, his hands sliding beneath to explore the warmth of your skin. Every brush of his fingers sent a wave of sensation coursing through you, heightening the anticipation that had been building between you.

You arched into him, your breath hitching as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a heated path in their wake. His name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper, urging him on as he continued his slow, deliberate exploration. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you, was as though he was rediscovering every part of you, savoring the familiarity and the newfound intensity that came with the rekindling of your connection.

Your hands found their way to the buttons of his shirt you never got to finish undoing, your fingers trembling slightly with the urgency of your desire. As you worked to undo them, Spencer’s lips moved lower, his breath warm against your skin, each kiss igniting a deeper longing within you. The fabric of his shirt slipped off his shoulders, revealing the familiar contours of his chest, his skin warm and inviting under your touch.

With a gentle but insistent push, Spencer guided you back down onto the sheets, his body hovering over yours, the weight of him pressing into you in a way that made your heart race. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, everything else fell away—there was just you, him, and the intense connection that pulsed between you.

His lips found yours once more, the kiss growing more heated, more insistent, as the boundaries between you blurred. His hand slid down your body, tracing familiar paths with a renewed intensity. When he reached your core, his touch was confident, knowing exactly how to apply just the right amount of pressure, a skill only a lover who truly knows your body could master.

A soft moan escaped your lips as Spencer’s fingers continued to work their magic, the sensations sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. His mouth moved from your lips to your chest, leaving a trail of heated kisses down to your nipples. His breath was warm against your skin, each exhale sending a new wave of anticipation through your body. Your hands roamed over his back, fingers digging in slightly as the intensity of the moment built between you.

Spencer’s touch was both firm and gentle, guiding you through waves of pleasure with an ease that spoke to the depth of your connection. Every movement was purposeful, designed to bring you closer to that edge, yet slow enough to savor each moment. He was meticulous, attentive, ensuring that your every reaction was met with just the right response.

The rhythm between you was perfect, a dance of mutual desire and trust. As you moved together, the sensations intensified, each one drawing you closer to the brink. Spencer’s name slipped from your lips in a breathy whisper, a sound that spurred him on, his own need mirrored in your eyes.

Finally, when the tension became too much to bear, you let go, surrendering to the flood of sensations that washed over you. Spencer kept his rhythm steady, guiding you through the waves of pleasure until you began to shake, your body trembling from the intensity. When you pushed his hand away, overwhelmed by the sensations, he relented, his touch immediately softening.

“Spencer…” you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes, your voice breathless, “please.”

He gazed down at you, his expression softening with affection and understanding. “Okay, baby. I got you,” he whispered, his voice soothing, full of promise.

“I know,” you replied, your trust in him evident in those two simple words.

Spencer smiled at you, the warmth in his eyes reflecting the deep connection between you. He leaned down, brushing a tender kiss against your lips before positioning himself. His movements were deliberate, careful, as he lined himself up with you, ensuring that you were both ready for what came next.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air as he entered you slowly, each inch sending a new wave of sensation through your body. He paused for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the feeling, before he began to move with a steady, unhurried rhythm. Every thrust was measured, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second of being with you in this way.

Your hands found their way to his back, your nails digging in slightly as he picked up the pace, the urgency between you building once more. The sounds of your breathless moans and his deep groans filled the room, blending with the scent of flowers and the lingering intimacy that wrapped around you both.

With every movement, Spencer's focus was entirely on you—on your pleasure, your needs. He watched your reactions closely, his gaze never leaving your face as he adjusted his rhythm to match what you needed. His own pleasure was secondary, a distant thought compared to the overwhelming desire to see you completely fulfilled.

Spencer’s name slipped from your lips in breathless whispers, the sound fueling his determination to bring you as much pleasure as possible. His touch was both gentle and firm, knowing exactly when to push you further and when to hold back, drawing out the moment, making it last.

As the tension built once more, you could feel the waves of pleasure building inside you, Spencer’s steady rhythm guiding you to the brink. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, a gesture that was both intimate and grounding, reminding you that he was right there with you, sharing in every moment.

When the release finally came, it was overwhelming, a powerful surge of sensation that left you breathless and trembling in his arms. Spencer helped you through it, his movements gentle and reassuring as he guided you down from the heights of pleasure as he held you close, as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

His own release followed soon after, his grip on you tightening as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. The sound of his ragged breathing filled the room, mingling with your own as you both rode out the waves of pleasure together.

In the quiet aftermath, Spencer pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace. Your heart beats slowly returned to normal, the world around you gradually coming back into focus. The room was filled with the scent of flowers, the warmth of your shared intimacy, and the comforting presence of the person who knew you better than anyone else.

Spencer’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his touch soothing and gentle. “Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice soft, full of concern and love.

“I’m not sure,” you teased, a smile playing on your lips. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Spencer groaned, a flush of mild embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “Y/N…”

You laughed softly, the sound light and free. “I’m okay, Spencer. Really. Are you?”

He looked down at you, his eyes warm and filled with a contentment that made your heart swell. “I’m happy,” he said simply, his voice carrying the weight of everything he couldn’t quite put into words.

Your heart soared at his confession, a wave of warmth spreading through you. “Me too,” you whispered, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over you.

And for the first time in what felt like too goddamn long, you fell asleep in Spencer’s arms, your bodies intertwined, the world outside fading away as you drifted off into a restful, contented sleep.

—

Spencer did have to return home, and you had to move on to your next tour location, but neither of you parted without lingering kisses and heartfelt promises.

Standing at the door of your hotel room, Spencer pulled you close, his hands gently cradling your face as he pressed one last, tender kiss to your lips. The moment was bittersweet, filled with the knowledge that your paths would diverge once more, but also with the hope that this wasn’t goodbye.

“See you later,” he murmured against your lips, his voice full of sincerity.

“See you later,” you echoed, your hands clutching at his shirt, reluctant to let go.

With one final embrace, Spencer slowly pulled away, his fingers trailing down your arm as if he couldn’t bear to break the connection entirely. He gave you a soft smile, one that spoke of the unspoken feelings still lingering between you, before turning to leave.

As you watched him walk away, your heart felt lighter, knowing that this was just a temporary farewell. There was a quiet confidence in the promise you had made to each other—a promise that despite the distance, you would find your way back to one another. And as you prepared to move on to your next tour location, you carried that promise with you, feeling more connected to Spencer than ever before.

—

November, 2008

“Y/N, how would you feel about taking a break between the next two stops?” Dylan suggested casually, though his tone held a hint of something more.

You immediately perked up, curiosity and concern flashing across your face. “Why? Did something happen?”

“No, nothing like that,” Dylan reassured you with a warm smile. “You’ve just been working so hard, and there’s a scheduled two-week break where you don’t have any obligations.”

“Seriously? How did that happen?” you asked, surprised and a bit skeptical. It wasn’t like your schedule to have such a gap.

Dylan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Because your assistant loves you and wants to make sure you stay healthy.”

Your face lit up with gratitude. “I love you too. There’s really a whole two weeks of nothing?”

“Well, not nothing,” Dylan laughed. “I still need you back for sound checks before your next show. And at least one or two posts each week.”

“Deal,” you agreed without hesitation, excitement bubbling up inside you. “When can I leave?”

“After tonight,” he replied with a grin, knowing exactly where your mind was headed.

Without thinking, you ran over to Dylan and planted a big, affectionate smooch on his head, overwhelmed with gratitude. You hadn’t seen Spencer since Amsterdam—two long months filled with phone calls and texts that were nice but could never quite fill the void. It was hard, and you couldn’t lie to yourself about that. You missed him, missed the way he made you feel when you were together.

And Spencer? He was trying his best to be patient, reminding himself that you were busy, that you were on another continent, and that the occasional game of phone tag had nothing to do with how you felt about him. But it was tough, and he was counting the days until he could hold you again.

As you packed up your things, the thought of seeing Spencer after so long filled you with a renewed energy. The anticipation of being together again, even if just for a short time, made the time apart seem worth it. And you knew that the moment you were back in his arms, everything would feel right again.

—

You knew Spencer wasn’t on a case—he always made sure to tell you when one came in, just in case you needed to reach him and he was unavailable. So, without hesitation, you booked a flight to New York. You barely had time to drop off your things, shower, and repack before you were on a train heading to Virginia, your heart racing with anticipation.

Spencer wasn’t expecting anyone when he heard a knock on his front door. He approached with caution, wondering who could be visiting at this hour. But when he opened the door, his breath caught in his throat.

“Y/N??” he exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Boo,” you said playfully, a grin spreading across your face.

Without a second thought, Spencer opened the door all the way and pulled you into a tight hug, the relief and joy in his embrace unmistakable. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to see my favorite genius,” you replied, your voice muffled slightly against his chest.

“But you’re on tour,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at you, concern and confusion etched on his face.

“Oh yeah, I quit. Canceled everything,” you said nonchalantly, trying to keep a straight face.

“What?? You can’t do that! Your fans! Your—” Spencer began to panic, but the sight of your teasing smile stopped him mid-sentence.

“I’m kidding, Spence,” you laughed, lightly tapping his chest. “Dylan scheduled me for a break.” You bit your lip, smiling up at him with excitement and mischief.

“How long do I have you for?” he asked, his voice softening as he searched your eyes.

“Forever? Hopefully,” you teased, but there was a sincerity in your tone that made Spencer’s heart swell.

“Y/N…” Spencer was speechless, overwhelmed by the sight of you standing there, in his doorway, after so long. He was so, so in love.

“Just under two weeks,” you added, your smile growing as you saw the love and happiness in his eyes.

“That’s more than I could’ve hoped for,” he whispered, pulling you back into his arms, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. And in that moment, with you in his arms, the world felt perfect once again.

—

While Spencer was at work, he recommended that you read a book he loved, something to keep you occupied while he was away. With nothing else on your agenda, you decided to take him up on the suggestion and finally had a chance to relax. Settling into a comfortable spot, you cracked open the book, curious to see what had captured Spencer’s heart.

As the hours passed, you became completely engrossed in the story, savoring every word. It was a romance novel, something you hadn’t expected from Spencer, but it touched you deeply. The characters’ journey mirrored so many of your own emotions, their struggles and triumphs in love resonating with everything you and Spencer had gone through.

When you finally turned over the last page, satisfied yet yearning for more, you noticed something scrawled in messy pen on the inside of the back cover. Your heart skipped a beat as you began to read the familiar handwriting.

My love—

Words will never be able to capture how truly sorry I am for everything I have done, for everything I have put you through. I am beyond grateful you gave me a second chance, not just with you, but at happiness, fulfillment, and love. I love you. There is only one piece missing now from our ever-evolving puzzle.

Will you be my girlfriend?

Sincerely, your desperately in love, Spencer

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reread the note, the sincerity and vulnerability in his words hitting you right in the heart. You couldn’t help but smile through the tears, your heart swelling with love for the man who had poured his emotions onto the page, who had been brave enough to ask you for a second chance at happiness.

When Spencer returned home that evening, you didn’t wait for him to ask how the book was. You simply walked up to him, holding the book in your hands, and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.

“Is that a yes?” Spencer asked softly, his voice full of hope and love as he held you close.

You looked up at him, your eyes still glistening with tears but your smile radiant. “Of course it’s a yes, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new, beautiful piece in your love story.

—

Bonus

“Billie, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is Billie,” you said, introducing the two with a warm smile.

Billie smiled at Spencer, her eyes curious as she took him in. “Hey, nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said, her tone friendly and genuine.

Spencer returned the smile. “Likewise. It’s great to meet you too, Billie. Y/N’s told me a lot about you as well.”

Billie chuckled, glancing at you with a playful grin. “All good things, I hope?”

“Only the best,” Spencer replied, his gaze shifting to you with a fondness that didn’t go unnoticed.

You couldn’t help but smile at the easy exchange, relieved that two of the most important people in your life were finally meeting. The moment felt natural, like two pieces of your world finally clicking into place.

“So, Spencer… you thought I was Phoebe Bridgers?” Billie asked with a teasing grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he managed a sheepish smile. “In my defense, the photo was pretty blurry,” he replied, his tone light but sincere.

Billie laughed, shaking her head. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. But I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.”

“Only a year or so too late, but he just upgraded his prescription,” you teased, flashing Spencer a playful grin.

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. “Better late than never, right?”

Billie laughed along, the lighthearted banter putting everyone at ease. “Well, I’m glad you can see things clearly now,” she joked, giving you a wink.

“Did she just wink at you?” Spencer asked, his voice a mix of playful suspicion and amusement.

“Spencer!” you groaned, laughing as you nudged him lightly. “Don’t start!”

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leth-writes · 5 months ago

Note

I'm so happy to see someone writing for twilight it really doesn't get the love it deserves.

This is weirdly specific, so bear with me.

Can I request Paul (twilight) x reader who's Jacob's ex-girlfriend, and they had like a really messy brake up so they REALLY don't like each other and so Paul and jacob get onto a fight about it.

Thanks for your time I've really been enjoying reading your work❤️❤️❤️

hello, lovely anon!

Usually I do shorter pieces for requests, but I kinda blacked out and wrote 2000 words for this... Sorry?

Please enjoy!

It was quiet, without Jacob. The two of you had been dating for over a year, before suddenly all he could think of was Bella, Bella, Bella. She was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. You didn’t mind the two of them being friends, you weren’t jealous and you didn’t believe the rumors spreading at school, but you still wanted to SEE him! You loved him, for god’s sake! But no, Bella was sad or Bella was tired or Bella wanted to go exploring and suddenly, he had no time for you.

It had been weeks since you’d last truly spoken beyond a quick 20 minute phone call every time you tried to hang out. In fact, you decided, today was the last day. It was the last day you would grovel and beg for his attention. This was it; if he didn’t agree today, you were done. He could go date Bella for all you cared.

You stomped down the stairs, your socked feet hitting against the soft white carpet, and skidded into the tiled kitchen. The grey light streamed in, illuminating the phone like a halo. It was fitting for something that would determine the fate of your relationship.

Angry, yet hopeful, you strode forward and picked up the phone, resolutely dialing Jacob’s number and waiting as it rang.

Finally, someone picked up. “Hello?” Jacob called, sounding groggy.

“Hey, Jake! I was thinking, we should spend some time together! It’s been a hard couple of weeks, and I haven’t seen you at all!” You said, anger draining and hope filling your chest, suddenly feeling weak at the knees. God, you’d missed his voice. “Can’t, Bella and I are going to try and build the motorcycles. You know she’s been having a hard time recently, and I think I’m really helping!” He responded, sounding distracted and far from the phone.

The hope shattered like ice, cutting up your insides. “Jake, we haven’t hung out in 3 weeks. I could really use my boyfriend today,”. Even to your own ears, your voice was pleading. It sounded weak and brittle, like you were fragile, not the strong front you’d tried to put on for him.

He sighed, voice crackly through the receiver. “Listen, you know Bella hasn’t been doing so well, and I’m the only thing that makes her feel better. You can’t expect me not to go out with her, just because you’re feeling a bit lonely…” His voice was exasperated and distant, like he was already done with the conversation.

Suddenly, that anger came roaring back, licking up the sides of your chest and burning away at your heart. You felt yourself trembling with rage, with despair, at the way he was talking to you.

“No, you listen, Jacob! I’m done! If you aren’t going to see me, if you’re going to prioritize Bella, then you can go stay with her! I never want to see your stupid, selfish face ever again, you fucking asshole!” You practically shouted, slamming the phone down. You whirled around, nose practically bellowed steam, and stomped to the couch, grabbing a pillow and screaming into it. You’d show him, you’d go out and have fun all by yourself and prove you didn’t need such a shitty boyfriend anyways!

It’d been a month since you last talked to Jacob, and while the breakup hurt, you were glad you’d ended the relationship when you had. Looking back, the thought of hanging on was depressing; you’d reconnected with your friends in the past month, going out practically every day and hanging out anytime it got too rainy to go to La Push. You hadn’t seen Jacob or Bella around, and you could honestly say you were happy to not have to so much as think about them anymore. It wasn’t your business.

It was the perfect day to go La Push, and your friends were already there when you pulled into the parking lot. It was overcast, no real sign of rain, and a gentle, cool breeze was drifting through. The beach was covered in large rocks, not really meant for swimming, but perfect for drinking and just listening to music and gossiping, and that’s exactly what you did.

Until, of course, they arrived. Jacob had been sure they were a blossoming gang, but you hadn’t been so sure. You’d never really spoken to them but Billy had thought they were good kids, just a bit… odd. Yet, now, seeing them on the beach, you could understand where Jacob would’ve gotten that misconception. Sam and his friends were massive, Sam himself standing at almost 6’6” by the looks of it and the shortest member, the boy with the dimpled chin, cleared 6’0” easily. They were heavily muscled, each wearing cargo shorts and shirtless, and were rough-housing as they walked, bumping into each other and shoving each other as they approached your small group. The loudest of the boys, the one with the intense expression and the loud voice, shoved the smallest and laughed boisterously. Then, he looked over. And he made eye contact with you.

And he stared.

And stared.

Eventually, you grew uncomfortable, shifting uneasily on the small picnic blanket you were sitting on as you looked away, toward Sam. He was pulling the loud boy to the side, harshly whispering as the boy kept eye contact. You leant over to your friend, quietly asking which boy was which. You listened as she pointed them out; the one staring at you was Paul, and he was dangerous. You gulped, once again looking away and out toward the shoreline.

“Hey, mind if we join you guys?” Sam asked, approaching with his group and staring at you. The others also looked exclusively at you, though not as intensely as Paul, as though your answer was the only one that mattered. Shivering, suddenly cold, you nodded and looked down. “Hey, at least they’re hot,”one of the girls in your group muttered, and the tension was broken. You burst into laughter, snorting as you held your sides. At least you weren’t feeling uncomfortable anymore, even if you did feel a little dorky. You glanced up through your lashes and Paul was still staring, though less intensely, a soft gleam in his eyes and a small, genuine smile on his lips.

That was the beginning of your relationship with Paul.

You woke up to loud pounding on your front door. Racing down the stairs, you skidded to a stop in the front hall, making eye contact with Bella. Fucking Bella Swan was at your door at 6 in the morning, pounding furiously and looking like death warmed over. You sighed, resigned to not getting to sleep in on a Saturday, and opened the door slowly.

“There’s something wrong with Jacob!” Bella exclaimed. She looked haggard, eyes ringed with deep purple bags and pale skin looking almost translucent. Her hair was ragged and greasy, hanging limply around her wan face, clothes baggy and dirty. She looked like shit. Maybe Jacob broke up with her?

“Okay, and why does that involve me?” You said, leaning against the door jamb and staring off into the distance, squinting at the pale morning light.

“You’re his girlfriend, he’s bound to listen to you!” She cried, thin clammy hand clutching at your wrist as she tried to tug you toward her red rustbucket of a truck.

You remained unmoved, now glaring at her. “No, Bella, I’m not his girlfriend, we haven’t been together for over a month, and I haven’t seen him in over a month and a half. He spent all his time with you; why would he listen to me now?”

She paused, hearing the hurt hidden in your voice and glancing up into your eyes for the first time all morning.

“Wait… you broke up? But Jacob loves you!” She said, voice weaker than before, almost a whisper.

“Yeah, well, he cared about you more. But, I guess if he’s in trouble, fine. What do you need me to do?”

Jacob’s yard looked exactly the same as you remembered it. That made you feel oddly sad, like you’d subconsciously expected it to reflect Jacob’s sadness at you leaving. Yet, it remained the same, just as it was before you’d ever come into his life. Had you really had such a small impact?

Bella was already out of the truck, running toward Paul and the others as they sauntered toward the house from the tree line. You sprinted to keep up, knowing she was going to say something and futilely trying to prevent it. When you reached them, she had shoved Paul and was accusing the boys of hurting Jacob, whatever that meant. Paul was shaking, literally trembling, as his muscles jumped and leapt under his skin. It looked like his skin was… moving as he puffed in effort. “Paul?” you tentatively approached, drawing closer as he leant over, panting as his shoulders jerked. “Shit!” Sam cursed, leaping forward to pull you back and away from Paul. You kicked and struggled as he picked you up, trying to get back to Paul. Couldn’t they see he was sick?!

Suddenly, Paul was gone, and in his place was… a giant wolf. It was like he’d been cut out of the world and replaced. What had happened to Paul?

“Bella!” Jacob shouted, vaulting over the porch fence. His skin seemed to split open, replacing by rapidly growing fur, and his face elongated as his nose broke and became discolored. By the time he hit the ground, he was a wolf. Were you hallucinating? You felt faint, leaning heavily against Sam, who shifted to support your weight and drag you away from the fight. Both wolves were now circling each other, growling and barking, trying to nip at each other's flanks. You felt like you were receding from your body, like you weren’t real. Everything felt far away, and your ears rang. Then, you passed out and went limp.

You jerked awake with a gasp almost as soon as Sam caught your full weight, shifting to lift you up into his arms.

“Paul!” he called, and the wolf who had replaced Paul looked over, eyes wide and sad as he saw your trembling form. Then, the wolf was gone and Paul was standing in its place, quickly pulling on clothes as Embry passed a pair of shorts to him. He cursed lowly and jogged over, grabbing you from Sam’s arms and holding you close. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over, like a prayer.

He sent you down gently, still holding you close to his chest, enveloping you in his soft warmth as his arms wrapped around your shoulders. The world went quiet and all was right, until Jacob interrupted the two of you by shoving Paul.

“Get the fuck away from her, you piece of shit!” He yelled out, punching Paul hard in the nose and causing a spurt of blood to leak out. Paul cursed again and spat out a mouthful of blood, growling lowly. “You don’t get to say that, asshole! You broke her heart, you have no right to tell her what to do!” Paul returned, standing his ground as Embry and Jared tried frantically to stop the fight from continuing.

“That doesn’t mean you can put her in danger!”

“I didn’t! She didn’t know until your little girlfriend came along and started shit!” Paul bellowed, gesturing at Bella, who was shrinking into herself behind Jake.

“Don’t bring her into this! This is about your shitty control, Paul! Don’t blame Bella for you not being able to handle a little pressure!”

“Stop!” Sam said, getting in between the two. “Jacob, you go blow off some steam. Don’t come back until you’re calm. And Paul…” Sam continued, trailing off as everyone looked at you. “Just… Just explain everything, okay?” He said, sighing and rubbing his forehead to fight away the growing headache.

Paul turned to you, opening his mouth to speak.

And that was the day you learned about shifters.

#twilight x reader #paul lahote x reader #jacob black x reader #lethwrites

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