#i can really be myself. be open. honest. i never lie when it comes to how much i love the ppl in my life so

[gretavanmoon]

Keep Me In Your Back Pocket

Sam x Female Reader

6.6k words

+ Not sure if this is a one shot, a blurb, or just an extended thought, but. Enjoy an angsty little Sammy idea.

Warnings: Cursing, Yelling, Mention of Smoking & Drinking, Mention of Mental Manipulation/Abuse, Arguing, Mention of Sex.

“Alright, lay it on me.”

For the life of her, she never knew exactly what color she wanted her hair to be. It seemed like every month she was rolling the dice on something new, something fresh and vibrant that she’d never tried before. She loved it blonde, she loved it when it was a dark chestnut, even liked it the time she dyed it a bright scarlet with some kind of purple streaks. She was always changing it, always daring to be different and go against the grain of what all the other girls were into that season. Every single one of them suited her, though. As gorgeous and poignant as her features are, every different way she decided to style herself fit her perfectly. 

“I love it,” I reassure her as she asks my opinion, knowing good and well that I’d admire her in any one of her decisions on changing up her appearance. 

“Sam, you say that every time. It’s okay to have a little constructive criticism sometimes,” she scorns me with a playful scoff. “Give me your honest opinion. I can take it.”

My eyes travel to meet hers in the mirror as we both stand before it, the reflection showing my appearance as disheveled and worn, just as it always was when I’d let myself indulge too much the night before. My shirts have always stayed permanently wrinkled and unbuttoned, and my hair was always in a constant state of tangles, tied in a forgotten knot at the back of my head. 

Her, though, as perfect as a shiny new thing just unwrapped and pulled from the box. Every single morning, every single night, every single ticking second of the day, she hardly ever looked like she was out of place. Naturally gorgeous, and she never even knew it. 

She pulls her fingers through her locks, fluffing and tousling and deciding whether or not her newest color-switch decision was a good one. 

"Y/N, I swear..." I reply, my hands coming up in front of my face to show my white-flag honesty.

“Ugh,” she groans, letting her fingers drift through it from her forehead and around to the sides, watching her reflection as the hair falls like feathers in front of her face. “Don’t do me any favors.”

“No, I promise. It looks really good on you. Every time you do this, it looks good. I wouldn’t lie to you, love.” And I’d swear to it. I’m not just trying to make her feel better. 

She was like a sponge to her surroundings, soaking up her inspiration from the dust that lied on the bottom shelves of high bookcases, or from the color of a new spring bud on a flower bush in the park. She saw beauty in everything and lived with nearly no hate in her heart, much to my opposite. She’s expressive and confident, effortless but with the loudest sense of humor and style. Never settling on one facet of life, but living in the sense that she’s able to change it whenever she damn well pleases. 

Mine and Y/N’s kinship goes back longer than I can remember. The ever-changing eras of our lives had been spent side-by-side since we were kids playing Kick the Can at the end of our neighborhood’s street, waiting for the street lights to come on to tell us when to run home for dinner.

I’d seen it all… Her first crush on the boy that sat behind her when we were in fifth grade, and her giddiness when he asked her to the winter dance. I’d seen her fail her driver’s license test four times before she finally passed, giving us both the freedom of inheriting her dad’s old beater flatbed and the open road. I helped her write the letter she wrote to her high school heartthrob, telling him that she no longer had the same feelings that she did when they’d first met. And I caught the subsequent tears that fell from her eyes as she listened to the horrific rumors he’d spread about her to the entirety of the school. I sat with her while she nervously opened her acceptance letter to college. Helped her surprise her parents with their twenty-fifth anniversary gift. I watched her fall in love with a man she met while she was pumping gas at a truckstop on her way home from a Black Sabbath show. And now, just as I always have, I’m helping her to understand the true beauty that she has always had as we stand before this mirror… Me in my pleated dark jeans, and her in her white dress and veil. 

“I just… this hair color doesn’t suit me, it never has,” she argues, trying her best to pin back the bangs she’d begun to let grow out some time ago. “It makes me look older, washed-out, don’t you think?”

I sigh, running my hand over my face as we go over this round-and-round again, probably for the fiftieth time in our lives. 

“Everything suits you, love,” I compliment her honestly, not brave enough to tell her that even though I’m standing behind her and encouraging her to notice her own beauty in her wedding gown, my heart and lungs are full of stones as the reality hits me that I’m not waiting for her at the altar, dressed in a tuxedo.

“Are you not happy with how it turned out?” I press.

I find it odd that instead of her embracing the newness of her copper-blonde strands that match perfectly with the color of the trim sewn onto her wedding dress, she’s instead criticizing it. It’s completely out of character for her. Normally, she’d be falling into the boost in confidence her new color has given her. But today… 

“No, it’s great it’s just… not me,” she argues. “It’s what Bobby wanted. Said he likes me best with this shade. Says it brings out the real ‘housewife’ side of my features.”

I physically can’t help the grimace that paints my face as it contorts into confusion. “Y/N, how the fuck does a hair color reflect how you choose to run a household?”

“Shhtt, Samuel. We’re in a church for god’s sake!” she turns and hits me across the arm as I roll my eyes at her pretending to care. She turns, careful not to step on the long train of her dress as she makes her way toward me, and away from the mirror. “Sammy this… This is my natural hair color. Close to it, at least."

“Oh…” I murmur, somehow only now realizing that I in fact have never really seen her with her real, actual hair color. Not since we were young kids, anyway, when my memory begins to turn to fuzz. 

“He says he loves me just the way I am, that I don’t need anything extra to make me look beautiful,” she goes on, her face falling just a bit as her eyebrows turn down. She stays quiet as she avoids my eyes, and she knows that it won’t take much for me to become argumentative. It’s easy to do, these days. 

At the risk of me making her mad on her wedding day, I stuff my sullied hands into my pockets, finding a wire nut and a few pennies at the bottoms to fidget with. “That may be true, love, but… is that what you want? You’ve always expressed yourself with all these wild hair colors… crazy makeup and outfits and whatnot.” 

It was true, her means of expressing herself were sometimes a little unprecedented in the grand scheme of things, but that’s exactly what always made her stand out to me. Besides the fact that I’ve been in her life for the past seventeen years, and the fact that I’m madly and incredibly in love with her.

“Yeah, I know… It doesn’t feel right to me, but. If it’s what Bobby wants–”

“Is that why you aren’t wearing hardly any blush on your cheeks? And you don’t have your fingernails painted, and your fingers aren’t dripping with all that silver you’ve collected over the years?” I grab her left hand, yanking it up close to my face to eye the small shiny diamond that now adorns her ring finger. From her betrothed… as her mother called him. Hell, the guy can’t even shoot Jack Daniels without a goddamned chaser let alone notice that the woman he’s to marry has laid down her entire life for him. 

She rips her hand from mine, jerking and forceful as I look back at her face. Striking as ever, even when completely devoid of any fancy eyeliner or powder, or whatever the stuff is. 

“Where’s that sparkly lip stuff you’ve worn every single day for the past ten years? Hm? And that necklace that you never take off because it’s bad luck…” My voice is rising now as she turns her back to me. “Fuck, Y/N, even your dress… You never wanted to wear white! Your dream wedding dress, what was it you always said, ‘I’ll never wear white in my wedding, simply because society tells me I have to!’”

“Stop, Sam! Just… Stop!” she yells, turning to face me now with rage emanating from her.

My jaw is clenched as my hands have long abandoned my pockets, rising into the air now as my voice continues to rise with them. 

“Stop what, Y/N?!”

“Stop being so goddamned honest with me all the time!” she yells. 

I scoff. “You just told me to not do you any favors, this is me not doing you any favors! Exactly like you asked!” I bicker. If there's one thing Y/N and I are good at, it's arguing.

“Ugh, do you know how easy it is to lie to someone?! How easy it is to sugarcoat reality to make it a little easier for them to digest?” 

“What in the fuck are you talking about, Y/N?” I ask, straining my voice.

She’s got tears threatening to fall from her eyes, and her voice is nearly as loud as mine. I halfway want to take this outside, pull a cigarette from my pocket and keep going so that the entire church can’t listen in, but I really don’t fucking care at this point. It feels like something is brewing.

“I’m saying it’s okay to lie to people sometimes, Sam! To make them feel a little bit better about their situations, okay?”

“Why in the hell would I lie to you, Y/N?” I retort, stepping closer toward her. She folds her arms over her chest in what looks to be self-preservation. “I’ve never fuckin’ lied to you, in almost twenty years, I’ve never once not been honest!”

She’s silent as we both begin panting through our rage, having trouble holding our tongues back from what we really want to say, simply because it’s her wedding day. 

But then, fuck it. “I’m not gonna stop being honest with you just because you’re marrying him,” I bite, tossing around the idea of whether or not I should keep it all to myself, for once. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? Why’d you say it like that?” she says, uncrossing her arms. 

I think about it for a second, and normally, I’d throw my opinion of her fiance right in her face, no questions asked. But today… Today is a little different. And it hurts like hell to hold it back.

“Nothin’, Y/N,” I stammer, pulling the half-pack of cigarettes from my front shirt pocket. I waltz to the wall, taking a seat on an old wooden bench before sticking the unlit cigarette between my lips. I force it all down for the sake of her happiness, shoving my words into the deepest depths of my throat. I eye her heavily from across the room, and the tension is thick. 

Before I know it her high-heeled feet are bounding across the hardwood floor, right toward me. “No, not nothin’, Samuel.” She rips the cigarette from my lips and breaks it right in half, dropping the remnants to the floor. 

“Are you fuckin’ crazy, woman?” I exclaim, bending down to clean up the mess of filter and tobacco from the floor. 

“Damnit, answer me, Sam,” she begins to plead as I’m now face to face with her chest, and all the bright white material of her otherwise very bland wedding dress, for her taste at least. But again, I’d never tell her that. “Be a man, answer me and tell me how you really feel,” she demands. 

I can feel some new type of energy radiating from her, something that I’ve not felt from her before. And it’s then that I begin to suspect that her pleas are loaded with some other type of emotion.

I clench my jaw and stand quickly, letting the cigarette pieces fall from my hand and back onto the floor. 

“Fine, you really want me to tell you how I feel? Then I will, fuck it,” I yell. She doesn’t back down, and now I’m towering over her, watching as her cheeks redden with madness and the tears sit still, glimmering as she refuses to let them fall. “He’s awful for you, Y/N. He ain’t you. He doesn’t deserve you. Every single thing about you has changed since you got with him. He’s made you into his goddamned puppet. His fuckin’ arm candy. Stripped you of everything that you love. Everything that makes you happy–”

“He makes me happy, Sam! Don’t you see that?” she cries, finally letting one tear fall. “Just because he–”

“Does he, Y/N? Are you sure? Or are you just lyin’ to yourself because it’s what you think you want?” I go on, letting the words I’ve kept holed up fly freely. We’re quiet for a beat before I take another breath and speak again. “He gave you the big house, the boat, the money… the status… The last name that will get you whatever you fuckin’ want in this town. And look at you now. You’re a shell of yourself, Y/N. You ain’t even you anymore. You haven’t been you in a long time, and I’m just the bravest son of a bitch to tell you.”

Her nostrils flare as she crosses her arms again, her eyes flitting from the floor to me, and back. “This goes a lot deeper than him not wanting you to be you, doesn’t it, Y/N?” I ask genuinely. 

“You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Sam,” she says through a choked sob. 

“Then tell me, Y/N! Enlighten me. ‘Cause god knows you haven’t talked to me the same in months, now. Hell, I didn’t even know about this wedding until four fuckin’ days ago…” I go on, the sting of learning about it still hitting me right in the chest. I wasn’t even going to come, but…

She shrugs her shoulders. “He just, he gets me, ya know? He’s sweet to me, buys me nice things, takes me on vacations. His family loves me, tells me he wants to start our own family as soon as we can.”

“A family?!” I practically yell in her face. “Y/N, you don’t want kids, you never have!”

“I didn’t, Sam, until I–” she swallows her words, stopping to wipe the wetness from her face. In any other instance, I’d be working hard to catch them before they ruined the mascara and shadow she spent an hour on, but she doesn’t have a stitch of anything on her face to worry about.

“Until you what?”

I watch as her bottom lip trembles, her body a shaking mess as she lets herself fall onto the bench I’d just stood from. Her eyes shoot down and her shoulders fall; the once vibrant, radiant woman I knew that had a lust for life and an enviable outlook on the world now presents herself as someone who hasn’t seen the light of day in years. Someone who is skittish, unsure, and unconfident. Someone who lives under the thumb of a man who imposes such harsh reverse psychology on her that she doesn’t even see herself changing into something that she wasn’t born to be.

“Until I saw you holding Jenny Watson’s baby boy,” she croaks, anxiously rubbing her hands together.

What?

“What do you mean, Y/N?” I ask, my voice monotone as my thoughts begin to race. I slowly walk back over, and take my seat again on the bench beside her.

She inhales with a harsh sniffle, clearing the still-falling tears away as she tries to get them to stop. It takes her a second, but she looks at me.

“Until I saw you. Holding him. It… I dunno. Made some kinda weird switch go off in my head like, maybe… They aren’t so bad, after all,” she says, crossing one leg up underneath herself. “Like if you can be so natural with one, maybe I can be too.”

I’m left stunned. Hell, I hardly even remember holding that baby at our class reunion just six months ago. The kid was cute, and reached out for me. I couldn’t say no.

“Me?” I whisper, still feeling confused. 

“Yeah, fuck. Don’t flatter yourself. Ok? It was sweet, and cute… And… made me change my mind a little,” she says. “Made me think that maybe with him, I could do it.”

Her words nearly cut me in two. With him.

“But the making them part is what’s got me worried,” she admits, throwing me for a loop again.

“Worried? Why?”

She shrugs again, and I realize I’m slowly breaking through the barrier that she’s put up between us for so long now. She’s opening up to me, just like she always did. But still yet, she can’t find the words.

I search her face as she licks her lips, kneading her hands together again as she searches for the words. Sometimes I think that I can read her mind, but as of late, it’s as though she’s a prisoner to it. I keep my eyes trained on her as she starts and stops her sentences, biting them back as if she can’t admit anything at all. Finally, it clicks.

“Don’t tell me that son of a bitch don’t treat you right in the bedroom, too. For fuck’s sake… he’s a spoiled brat and he can’t fuck?! Wow, Y/N, you really hit the jackpot!” I couldn’t stop myself. 

“Oh don’t you even fucking go there, Samuel, I swear to god.”

“Go where, Y/N? To the truth? Is that not what you’re trying to say to me? That he doesn’t satisfy you?”

“Urgh, I know I shouldn’t have clued you in like that, now you’re just going to make it all worse!” she cries, resting her veiled, copper-blonde head against the aging wall of the church.

“Worse? When have I ever made anything worse for you, Y/N? For years, all I’ve ever tried to do was make you happy, be your friend. A shitty one, sometimes, but don’t sit here and tell me that I’ve ever been anything but good to you.”

She shakes her head and closes her eyes as she cries, finally bringing her hands to her face to cover it. She’s an absolute mess on her wedding day, and it’s all because of me. And my stupid words. And my stupid honesty. Why did I have to go and fall in love with someone who I knew was too good for me? Someone who would never refer to me as anything but a good friend? 

Truly, as degenerated of a person that I am, I’m still a million times better for her than the man she is supposed to marry. And suddenly, I’m wrought with guilt.

“Please stop crying, Y/N,” I beg her, quietly and gently bringing my hand to rest on her trembling arm. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. You’re getting married in fifteen minutes, you should be bursting at the seams with happiness, right now.”

She pulls the coverage of her hands away long enough to whisper a few words. 

“I should be happy, but I’m not, am I?” 

I can feel all the blood drain from my body and straight into the basement of the church, seeping through the crack and seams of the floor as it searches for somewhere else to be. Of course she trusts me to answer that for her. The one person who she knows will be nothing but brutally honest with her, no matter what the question is.

“I wouldn’t bet my last penny on it, love,” I whisper back, hoping that it doesn’t hurt her any further. “Just because it doesn’t take a lot for you to be happy doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be given the bare minimum of something real.”

She pulls her hands away from her face, her eyes blotched and swollen as she finally succumbs to her emotions, letting her arms wrap around my neck and her head rest in the crook of it.

Just like all the other times before.

“Why do you always know exactly what to say, Sam?” she says over another quiet whisper.

I shake my head as I wrap my arms around her waist, giving her the same hug that I have on so many other occasions like this.

“I don’t. I just say what I think. And hope that maybe you’ll listen to me, one day,” I chuckle a little as I feel her lips curl into a smile on the skin of my neck, making my cold heart feel just a little bit warmer.

“When was the last time you danced, Y/N? Like, really danced?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood a little.

She pulls away and shrugs, but she makes a point to let her fingers travel down the arms of my shirt, finally letting her hand fall overtop of mine. “I don’t know. Couldn’t tell you.”

“When was the last time you went to a gig? Or on those crazy long solo road trips you used to love… Or got your art featured in that showcase you used to frequent?” I ask. Again, she has no answer. I can feel my face fall in disappointment. This guy has really done a number on her.

“Are you still making your art?” I ask. 

The look in her eyes is solemn… empty and lifeless as if she’s reminiscing on a lifetime ago. 

She shakes her head. “No. Bobby says it’s silly and pointless to express myself like that. Makes too much of a mess in the house.”

I can’t help the scoff that leaves my mouth, and the subsequent eye roll. Does he even know who she is?!

“God, Y/N… next thing is you’re gonna tell me he made you get rid of Pepper.” Her beloved black lab has accompanied her through more of her life than I have. Her true best friend and one of the best dogs I’ve ever come in contact with. 

But again, she’s quiet. 

“You’re fucking kidding me, he made you–” I can’t even finish my sentence. That evil jackass made her ditch her dog?!

“He lives with my dad, now…” she says, rubbing a stray tear from under her eye. “Bobby doesn’t like dogs.”

I cup my hand around her temple, ignoring the position of her veil as I pull her to rest her head against my chest. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That’s the fuckin’ worst. And that makes me dislike him even more. You don’t take a woman’s dog away from her.”

“I miss him so much, Sammy,” she cries again.

“Where did my Y/N go?” My question is rhetoric, but true, all the same.

Suddenly, I can’t take it anymore. I’ve learned more shitty things about this Bobby guy in the past twenty minutes than I have in the year that they’re been engaged. Fuck, all I came in here to do was tell her congratulations. Tell her I was happy for her, even though I was going to lie through my teeth. My best friend on the planet, the one person who I can fight to the death with, and make up the next minute like it was no big deal. Though we’re older now with lives and responsibilities, I still count on her to bring me back down to earth. I still miss her when we skip a few days of talking. I still yearn to feel her near me, search for her in my dreams, hope and pray that one day the universe will allow me to call her mine. The one that’s too good for me, the one that I would walk to the end of the earth for if I knew it would make her happy. I’ve never been a romantic man, but I sure as hell know a good woman when I see one. And I’ll be damned if I let someone dull her shine any further.

So I ask, for the first and final time, as I hear a commotion starting to gather in the chapel.

I take a deep breath and gather myself, taking her hands tightly in mine as I force myself to look her in the eye. “Tell me you’re happy, Y/N. Tell me you’re really fucking happy with him, and I’ll leave. I’ll go sit in the pew and watch you vow to keep him happy for the rest of your life. All the while knowing that you’re puttin’ on a fuckin’ show for everyone,” I grit with softness, knowing that time is running out. If I’m gonna get through to her, I have to do it now.

The look on her face sends a shot through my heart, and I feel my throat tighten. Her eyes are lifeless again, and the woman staring back at me isn’t the one that I know.

Just then a soft rap on the door interrupts us, and an older lady peeks her head through to find us. “Y/N, honey, it’s time,” she says softly, her eyes landing on me as I realize it’s her grandma. 

“Ok Mamaw, thank you,” she says, wiping her face free of the dampness. 

“Samuel, I didn’t expect to see you in here,” she coos quietly with a sweet smile. 

“Afternoon Ms. Ellen, nice to see you again,” I say with a wave. 

She looks behind her quickly, checking to see if anyone had followed her. When she knows she’s alone, she lets herself a little further into the room with us. 

“I hope you’re in here telling my sweet Y/N all your long lost secrets before she’s an honest woman,” she says, folding her hands across her stomach. I’ve always loved this woman, the most picture-perfect cookie-cutter grandma with a virulent and exciting past. And, she sneaks and smokes cigarettes with me, sometimes. 

“Ah, maybe a few,” I say as I let Y/N blot her face with a tissue in the mirror. I’ve always felt like Ms. Ellen has been on my team, knowing, or better yet, able to recognize the love that I wear on my sleeve for Y/N. Sometimes those folk just have a sixth sense when it comes to these things. 

Ellen makes direct and intense eye contact with me before she mutters, “Doesn’t my granddaughter look beautiful in her dress?”

“Ah, yes,” I clear my throat, “she always looks beautiful.”

“Shame she didn’t even get to pick it out herself. Didn’t even get to try a few on to see what she might like,” Ellen says somberly. “Just had it handed to her by Bobby’s assistants.”

“Mamaw…” I hear the warning in Y/N’s voice. 

“What, child? Just telling Sammy here that I’m so happy it ended up fitting you like a glove.” I give Ellen a reassuring smile as I stand from the bench, realizing that it must be my time to go. 

Ellen turns and makes it to the door before she stops with her hand on the knob, taking a quick breath before she turns back to us. 

“Do you remember when you two were little, just kiddos in elementary school, and you decided that the two of you were going to have a wedding in my backyard?” she says. 

“Mamaw, shouldn’t you be finding your seat in the congregation?” Y/N warns her again, but it’s no use. 

“You invited all your little neighborhood friends and asked me to help you hem your dress. A bright purple one, I believe it was. Little Sammy spent all day roaming through the neighbors’ landscaping and stealing the perfect flowers to make you a bouquet. Asked me to bake cookies for your guests. Caught all the fireflies in town and stuffed them into a mason jar so that when the sun went down, you’d still be able to see to walk through the grass.”

My chest warms at the fond memory of all those years ago, back when life wasn’t real and time didn’t exist. I steal a quick glance at Y/N, standing in the mirror again as she listens to her grandmother speak. “Sam came inside and started rummaging through my cabinets, stealing the twist-ties off my loaves of bread to fashion into rings… The cutest thing I ever saw…”

“The first time I ever kissed you,” I add, once again stuffing my hands into the pockets of my jeans. 

I watch as Ellen’s face lights up with joy, and Y/N’s blushes with embarrassment. It was the first time, but it wasn’t the last. One drunken night after graduation, Y/N and I had climbed onto the roof of the old dry cleaner’s and played truth or dare. Of course, I dared her to kiss me on a whim. And by god, she didn’t hold back. It was fast and it was heavy, but I knew deep down that for her, it was all in fun.

Nothing ever went past that kiss that ended in nothing more than just a little intense drunken intimacy. Nothing except the feelings that I had for her grew tenfold, and never went away. 

“Well, anyway,” Ellen breaks the silence. “I’ll be outside, sweetheart.” Ellen sneaked back through the creaky old door, giving me a look that said ‘Last chance, honey. Don’t let her get away.’

All I can hear in the room now is Y/N taking a deep cleansing breath, smoothing the dress out over her thighs as she straightens her veil. I catch her eyes in the mirror again, giving her one last look before I begin to make my way to the door. 

“I kept that ring, you know,” she says, stopping me. “The bread tie one. I still have it.”

I turn back. “You do?”

“Mhm. In my jewelry box at home. I see it almost every day.” She’s walking toward me again, cleaning up her face and running her fingers along her tear lines. 

“Why’d you keep it?” I ask.

“Because it meant a lot to me, reminded me how much you mean to me. And it reminds me to keep my promises, no matter how simple and pointless they are. They’re still important,” she goes on, biting her lips together every few words. “Do you remember what we promised that day, Sam?”

I shake my head, the memory a little fuzzy still. “Kind of…”

“We said that even though we might not marry each other when we’re grown ups, that we’d always look out for each other. Keep each other in check. And we promised to always stay connected, no matter what.”

I nod. “Simple as that…”

She smiles. “Simple as that.”

I fight a tear, myself, as I reach in my back pocket and pull out my wallet, fidgeting through the old, worn in pockets of it in search of what I know is there, buried away but not forgotten. Finally my finger lands on it, and I gently pull it from the narrow slot. I place it in the center of my free hand, tiny, blue, tattered and worn. 

“You kept your ring, too,” Y/N says breathlessly. 

“It’s survived three wallets and an accidental trip into the trash can. But, it made it,” I say, admiring the tiny item that I only see from time to time. 

She walks closer to me, gently running her finger along it’s paper edges. “Sammy, I can’t believe you–”

“Don’t marry him, Y/N,” I blurt, the words escaping my mouth before I can even give them a second thought. “Don’t do it. Don’t marry him.”

“What?” her eyes bulge from her head as she stops in her tracks. It feels as though the entire world is standing still. 

“I said don’t do it. Don’t lock yourself away for the rest of your life. Don’t be unhappy in a relationship with a man who won’t even let you have your dog,” I’m babbling now, my chest tight and my throat on fire. I don’t even care. I needed to do it, I have to say it. 

“But, I–”

“There are no buts, here, Y/N. You still have a choice, and if what you say is true, we promised to look out for one another. This is me looking out for you,” I say. 

She stares at me as her hands drop to the sides, her demeanor less than it has looked all day. 

“That’s all I’m gonna say, Y/N. That’s all I needed to say.” I stuff the ring back into it’s place in my wallet before smoothing my hands over my hair. My breath begins to pick up and I feel my face getting hot. I turn again and head straight for the door, and I hear the music begin to echo off the walls of the church. 

“Sam, wait–”

“You know it’s always been me, Y/N. And if it’s not me, then please, for the love of god, just don’t let it be him. Okay?” I say as my hand turns the knob. “Go in there and marry him, throw away everything that makes you happy, everything that brings you joy. Makes you you. Lie to him and yourself and to everyone in there…”

I feel thick, hot tears blurring my vision as I begin to lose composure from the adrenaline of what I’m saying and doing. I shouldn’t be doing this… But also, I absolutely should.

“But if not…” I raise my hands and let them fall back to slap my sides, nodding to her in a way that I know she will understand. The last look I got of the woman I just confessed my love to was one that will be etched into my brain for the rest of my life. For the first time in a long time, I saw hope in her eyes.

I dash out the back doors of the church and down the concrete steps, out onto the quiet street straight toward my motorcycle. I hear the music swelling inside, making me feel like I can’t afford another breath. I slip my helmet on and I check my watch, 4:59PM. 

I straddle my bike and grab the handle bars, taking a glance every few seconds at the back door I had just burst through. My heart is pounding as I hear the processional music begin, and my hands are rough as I grip the handlebars. I turn the key, revving the engine to let her know that I’m out here, serious, and ready to take her away from it all…

My eyes dash again and again, willing the doors to open. “Come on, Y/N, don’t do this…”

My hands twist the bars, the calluses on my palms harshly rubbing against them as I grit my jaw side to side. The anxiety is almost worse out here than it is inside. “Come on, baby…”

It feels like an hour ticks by as the music inside swells and becomes louder, and the blood pumping through my veins strains harder and harder. My foot is bouncing nervously on the ground, ready to kick the stand at a moment’s notice. But deep down, I know I’d wait out here for her for a hundred years. I’d never stop waiting for her, until she told me to stop. 

The organ music continues and starts from the beginning again, and it’s then that I realize, it’s still playing. 

She isn’t walking down the aisle.

My eyes flit to the door again, and just as I catch sight of the evening sun brightening its golden glow onto the stained glass windows, the back door opens. Slowly, at first, just enough for me to tell it moved. 

Fuck, she’s gonna run…

The door opens a little bit more, and I see the top of her head peek through the opening. I feel like my body is about to catch on fire as I realize she’s most definitely not where everyone is expecting her to be. She slips through the door, shutting it softly behind her as she finds me parked on the street, ready and waiting. I slide my helmet off to get a better look at her, and I swear every single ounce of breath is stolen from my lungs. 

Her veil is gone, and her high heels are off, and she’s tumbling down the concrete steps through the yard, directly toward me. My breath hitches, I can’t fucking believe it. She’s gonna leave. I feel like I’m frozen in place as I watch her run to me, her hair flowing in the breeze behind her. 

She’s glowing, rushed and anxious as she bounds barefoot through the mess of cars clogging up the street. My heart is thrumming from my ribcage, and I’m positive that I’ve never seen a sight more gorgeous in my entire life. 

She’s coming… she’s really coming with me.

Finally she reaches me and the bike, her chest heaving with nerves and lost breath as I give her a surprised and pleading look. I open my mouth to speak, but I really don’t know what to say. 

She rips the helmet from my hands and places it on her own head. “You gonna get me the fuck out of here Sam? Or am I gonna have to beg you?” she boasts with that old confidence she always used to have.

I laugh through my nose as she grabs onto my shoulders and hikes up her dress to straddle the back of the bike. 

“I’d love to see you beg, love. But not today,” I reply, kicking the stand up with my right foot as we find our balance on the bike. Her arms wrap around my stomach as I take off, zipping through the mess of parked cars and straight toward the quickest way out of here. 

“Where do you wanna go?” I ask her, turning my head just a little. 

“Anywhere. Literally any place on earth that isn’t here,” she yells into my ear over the deafening sound of the engine. 

I feel like I could speed up and ride straight into the sunset, and I’m positive that she wants to disappear just as badly as I want to. I feel the touch of her sweet lips land directly on the back of my neck, leaving a tiny peck there that nearly sends me into overdrive. I’m in such harsh disbelief. But moreso, I’m thankful. 

Her lips travel from the back of my neck and around to my ear again as her arms squeeze me a little tighter. “Thank you, Sammy,” she mumbles, and I feel a warmness overtake my entire body. She has no idea that I’m the one that should be thanking her. We both let the sound of wedding bells fall into our memories, only concentrating now on the sounds of the motor running, and the tires rolling across the pavement.

[sincerelyneo]

sunflower vol 6 | l.hc

“i couldn’t want you anymore, kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dance floor”

💿now playing: sunflower vol 6 by harry styles

❯ summary: Let’s make dinner together, he said. I’ll behave, he said. Honestly, you should have known that was a lie because when it comes to you, Haechan is never on his best behaviour. That’s why he’s sneaking sly touches every time you complete a step in your recipe.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, fluff, suggestive content

❯ words: 1.4k

❯ tags: tooth rotting fluff, domesticated fluff, swearing, kissing, pet names, literally just hyuck being so boyfriend and them dancing in the kitchen together.

an: i’m a firm believer that harry styles wrote this song about haechan

Hyuck bursts through the front door with a sense of urgency, unable to contain his excitement. It's been months since he last saw you, his girlfriend whom he's more than just a little obsessed with, and the door feels like just another barrier in his way. He thought his job, which requires him to tour for half the year, was obstacle enough.

"Baby, I'm home!" he calls out eagerly, scanning the apartment for any sign of you. Disappointment flickers across his face when he doesn't immediately spot you waiting for him with open arms.

The honeyed tone of his voice instead echoes from the living room to your bedroom, drawing you to him like a magnet. Without wasting a moment, you rush down the stairs and wrap your arms around his neck.

You melt into each other effortlessly, as you always do. Your bodies seem custom-made for one another, fitting together perfectly. You've missed his touch, his warmth, in a way that FaceTime calls could never fulfil. Nothing compares to the physical presence of your Hyuck.

You plant a gentle kiss on the soft skin of his cheek before pulling back to meet his gaze. "You weren't supposed to be home for another four hours. What's going on?"

"I got an earlier flight because I missed you so much," he replies with a grin. 

You shake your head, but a smile still tugs at your lips. You've never encountered a man more smitten and in love than him. It's endearing, really. It's the kind of love his friends would tease him about if he didn't take so much pride in it.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to process the fact that he's here in your living room. You're happy, of course, but you had hoped to be all dolled up for his arrival, not standing in old pyjamas after months apart

"Well... are you hungry? We could order takeout if you want. You can tell me all about that tour that's kept you away from me for what feels like forever," you suggest with a smile, and his eyes soften at the invitation

"Babyyy," he whines, catching you off guard a little. His hands slide to your back, pulling you in by your waist as he plants a kiss on top of your head. "Can't we make dinner together?"

You raise an eyebrow, pulling away to look up at him, his hands still wrapped around you. "By 'we,' you mean me?"

"Of course not. You know I make an excellent sous chef. Restaurants should be grateful I chose music instead of culinary arts.” 

You shake your head, with a grin. "We never get anything done when we cook together. Remember last time?"

He smirks, recalling the memory. "It's not my fault you asked me to get something out of the fridge, and when I turned around, you were bent over the counter showing your ass to me. I couldn't help myself."

You give him a deadpan look but he only smirks more.

"And if we're being honest, I remember you loving it." His arms cross over his chest, the satisfaction in him beaming from knowing that you know he's right. You did enjoy those steamy cooking sessions, but not right now; you're hungry.

"Please, baby, I missed your cooking. Nothing any restaurant can make compares to your food," he pleads. "I'll be on my best behaviour."

And although you know better, and you know that there’s no such thing as "best behaviour" with Lee Donghyuck, you still can't resist. And so, you give in. 

Surprisingly, everything goes well. Hyuck isn’t too much of a distraction; instead, he follows your instructions without protest. He grabs ingredients, chops vegetables, and even compliments the head chef— and nothing catches fire.

Progress is being made.

That is until your boyfriend finishes the little tasks you assign him and wraps his arms around your waist while you chop ingredients.

“Hyuck… you promised—”

His plush lips melt against your neck so delicately that you nearly chop off your finger—though Hyuck won’t let that happen, gripping your hands to steady them. He chuckles softly, his lips quirking against your skin.

“I know what I said, Y/N,” he teases. “I’m just trying to help.”

“You’re not trying to help; you’re trying to distract.”

He laughs, “You know… I bought a new record while I was on tour. It has that one song you love.”

You pause, setting the knife down and pressing your hands against the counter as you turn to face him.

“Oh yeah?”

He nods, “I think we should play it while you cook.”

“I thought we were supposed to be cooking together?” 

Hyuck simply chuckles as he heads over to the record player in your kitchen and sets the record spinning. Soft guitar notes fill the space, and despite your need to focus, you can’t help but smile.

You watch as he dances across the cool kitchen tiles, a smirk on his lips, until he stands behind you. His hand finds your elbow, gently pulling you backwards.

The laugh that spills from you is warm and Hyuck matches it as his hands drift down your arms to your hands, fingers threading together before he pulls you back into his broad, solid chest. 

Strong arms cross your own chest, and the two of you start to sway against each other. The music is quiet and grainy and mixed with the sound of your feet creaking on the floor. 

The two of you float back and forth—a stream of sunlight streams in through the high window. You close your eyes and let the light shift across your eyelids. Hyuck’s lips find your ear, singing softly. The sound was gentle and sweet and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“I’ll never forget the moment I realised I love you.”

You sink further against him, your voice humming as you ask, “Yeah? When was that?”

“The minute I saw you,” he breathes. “You were dancing so carelessly, and I knew then—you were my person. You’ll always be my person.”

You’re grinning like an idiot despite rolling your eyes as you let go of Hyuck’s hands and turn around in his arms. You slide your palms up his chest to wind around the back of his neck, pressing your foreheads together. 

“You’re so cheesy.”

“And you love it,” he responds easily, smiling with his eyes closed as he continues to sway with you in the tiny kitchen of your tiny apartment. You nod, leaning forward to knock your noses together gently with an exaggerated sigh.

“I do. And I love you. I wouldn’t want to spend a minute loving anybody else.”

Hyuck hums, pulling you in closer and starts walking you backwards slowly until your hips rest against the counter. He dips down, curling his hands around the backs of your thighs and effortlessly hoists you up to sit on the edge. You open your eyes and run your fingers through his hair, twisting a perfect little strand around your finger just the way he likes it.

He looks back at you, eyes filled with patience and love. Then he leans in, drawing you into a soft, lazy kiss—because he’s finally home, because he can, because he loves doing it, because it’s all he ever wants to do from now until forever.  You melt against his chest, pressing up into the contact. When you break apart, Hyuck rests his lips against your temple, swaying gently with you in his arms.

“I’m so in love with you,” He says softly.

You rest your cheek against his shoulder and brush your nose back and forth against his neck as you close your eyes and smile.

“I love you too, Hyuck.”

You linger in the warmth of his touch until the sharp beeping of the oven interrupts the moment. You pull away slightly, frowning at the oven’s display.

“Ugh, I forgot I put that in there!” you exclaim, glancing over your shoulder to see smoke beginning to curl from the edges.

Hyuck chuckles, but there is no concern creeping into his voice. “Can’t believe my first meal home is going to be charcoal.” 

You rush to the oven, Hyuck close behind. As you open the door, a plume of smoke escapes, and you cough. 

“This is totally your fault! What happened to you not being distracting?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs, leaning down to plant another soft kiss on your lips. “What can I say? I’m obsessed with you.”

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR THE BIG MISUNDERSTANDING *  assorted dialogue for that trope i really hate but you know what, sometimes it's good to explore this stuff even if it makes me mad, adjust as necessary

i overheard you talking earlier.

do you actually love me, or was that a lie, too?

you made me fall in love with you.

you were lying to me this whole time.

i never meant for you to hear that.

oh, i know what you said. you don't need to explain it.

when were you going to tell me the truth?

i just said those things! i don't know what came over me!

so now i know the truth.

this is what i get for trusting you.

i never lied about how i felt.

you're making a big mistake.

i opened myself up to you, and this is how you treat me?

go. i don't want to look at you anymore.

you lied to my face.

you don't need to explain anything. i heard the truth.

i get it. i'll just slow you down.

this was never supposed to happen this way.

look, i'm sorry. can we please talk about this?

you could have been honest with me from the start.

what was this, some kind of game?

i didn't lie about that!

that was your plan all along, wasn't it?

you think you can just walk in, play with my heart, and leave?

you manipulated me this whole time.

now i see you for what you really are.

none of that is true, and you know it.

why won't you give me a chance to explain?

that's all i needed to know.

i was so stupid trusting you.

i never should have listened to you.

that's not what i said!

i was just saying those things to get [name] to leave!

you made it very clear where you stand.

might be better if i just leave now.

you never wanted me around anyway.

so this was all a game to you?

how did you hear that? who told you?

yes, i lied to you, but i didn't mean for it to get this far!

i didn't mean any of it!

and all this time, i thought you actually loved me.

what a fool i was to trust you.

the longer you stand there, the angrier i get.

i'm walking out of here, and i'm never coming back.

nothing you could say right now would make me change my mind.

oh, i heard you. i heard everything.

[name] told me you were lying.

i know what really happened. you can stop pretending.

were you ever going to tell me the truth, or were you planning on stringing me along forever?

so that's it? you're just leaving?

did you really mean what you said, or was that a lie too?

everything is called into question.

i didn't lie about my feelings for you.

as much as i'd love to believe you, i can't. not anymore.

they were right about you all along.

when they warned me about you, i didn't believe them.

i never want to see you again.

please pack your things.

[bangtanintotheroom]

On the Nose (M)(Teaser)

I'ma put this pussy on your face

Open up boy, come and get a taste

🔊 just wanna - iggy azalea (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: Dokyeom x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Humor, Smut, Friends to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words (teaser): 338

• Summary: Seokmin thinks his nose might be too big. You’re quick to give him reasons as to why he’s wrong.

• Warnings/themes: insecurity, reassurance, OC with the compliments 🥹, Seokmin getting carried away, face-sitting, oral (f. receiving), groping, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

• Notes: Since Mr. DK won the recent poll, I’ll be posting him next! I’ve had most of it done since it’s a short one, but I wanted to wait until the end of my vacation to do the teaser. Expect it to be out in the next few days! 🫡✨

• Teaser Notes: Teasers are a WIP and will not fully reflect the final draft, warnings and themes are subject to change. If you want to be tagged when the final draft is released, either leave a reply or shoot me an ask! PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE PRESENT IN YOUR BIO OR YOU WILL NOT BE TAGGED.

• Taglist: @minttangerines @minisugakoobies @kiestrokes @chans-room @firesighgirl

Reminder that I have a permanent taglist if you’re interested in all future fics I post!

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Is my nose too big?”

Your friend’s out of nowhere question made you pause your mobile game and look up in bewilderment. You found him standing in front of his dresser, head leaned in close to the mirror.

“What? No, it’s not.”

Seokmin hummed, the tone unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You can be honest with me, y’know.”

Frowning deeply, you set your phone down and rose from the bed to walk over and stand next to him.

“Seokmin, why would I lie? Your nose is fine. Did someone say something about it?”

“No…”

His trailing off did not deter you from digging deeper.

“Seokmin.”

Your biting tone and hard stare made him flinch, not wanting to feel your wrath.

“No one said anything, per se, but they were looking. Really hard.”

“Who?”

Seokmin’s reflection shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Multiple people. We’d be having a conversation and I’d just notice their eyes going to my nose at some point.”

“You know what else big noses are really good for?”

Seokmin turns to look down at you with curiosity and a hint of eagerness.

“What?”

You look up at him, face blank like a sheet of paper.

“Sitting on.”

He became a cartoon character immediately, eyes bugging and mouth flying open to let out a yelp while his hands covered his ears.

“Y/N! What?!”

“Hey—” You reached up to rip his palms down so he could hear properly. “—it’s true!”

“Is it, you…you…pervert? Or are you just making things up to make me feel better?!”

A scowl came across your face as you lightly punched his arm.

“I’m serious, idiot! Have you never heard of a girl using someone’s nose to get off?”

“No! Well, I mean, maybe, but I wasn’t paying attention if anyone did say that.”

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms and readied yourself to continue convincing him.

“It’s true, okay?”

Seokmin blinked before squinting his eyes.

“And who’s your source?”

You met him with nothing but passiveness.

“Me, myself and I.”

[theotherbuckley]

Im in love with this fic and i need more

🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵🦵

You're an amazing writer btw 🩷🪱

Thank you! I'm glad people are liking this fic 🥰

Here's 900 more words just for you <3

🦵 - Buck and Tommy meet at physio after the truck bombing

Tommy isn’t there at his next physio appointment — now only seeing his physiotherapist once every two weeks, unlike Buck who still has to see her every week. The session feels slower than normal; it always does when he’s alone. Bobby promised him that next time he would be able to come with, but today, there’s no one, not even Tommy, to chat with afterwards. 

Dr Mistry seems to sense his subdued mood and has taken to being far more cheerful than he can ever recall.

“Why are you so happy?” he asks, slumping down into his chair after she had given his leg a deep and rather unpleasant massage. 

Dr Mistry turns to him, shooting him a look which he doesn’t care to decipher. “You are quiet. It’s unsettling.”

Buck opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again, staring at his doctor. “Hey, I don’t talk that much.”

“You haven’t even complained one time.”

And okay, that’s fair, but still. 

“I’m just tired,” Buck tells her. It’s not even a lie. He is tired. He’s always tired. He’s just a little spacey today. He’s been feeling quite defeated lately. Sometimes, it feels like all of his hard work is for nothing. His leg still aches like bitch whenever the weather changes, and he only just managed to complete the full length of the bar unaided last session, far behind where he should have been at this point. He’s trying so hard to get better, to work again, but it doesn’t matter how much effort he puts in, it’s never enough. He’s never enough. 

And when there’s nobody with him to tell his brain to shut up, he gets stuck inside his head, and he doesn’t quite know how to get out of it. 

It’s exhausting. 

So he’s tired. He really, really is. 

It’s just a type of tiredness that he doesn’t think he can recover from. Not until his leg is recovered, at least. 

Dr Mistry looks at him for a moment, her eyes scanning over his face, hyperanalysing his expressions as though she can see right down into his soul, see all of those helpless thoughts running around in his head. “There’s doctors for that,” she says, and Buck doesn’t have to ask what she means. 

“I don’t need therapy,” Buck says back, a little too defensively. He’s probably lying, but he doesn’t want to see anyone. He’s fine. He will be. It just takes time, isn’t that what everyone keeps saying?

“It’s not healthy to keep everything stuck inside. Sometimes it is good to let it all out,” she continues, ignoring his slight outburst. 

“I have people. It’s just— It’s hard when they’re not around.”

She nods in understanding but hands him a card anyway. “Just think about it.”

He takes the card begrudgingly and sticks it in his wallet, where he knows he’s not going to touch it again. He doesn’t need help. He just needs to be able to walk— to work. He’ll be fine after that. 

As soon as he gets home, he takes the card out of his wallet and stares at it. 

And then he texts Tommy. 

Buck: Have you ever seen a therapist?

Tommy: Hi Tommy how are you

I’m great thank you for asking

Buck: Yeah yeah

Answer the question

Tommy: I have

Buck: And? 

My doctor wants me to see one

But I don’t want to

Especially not after last time

I’m not that guy anymore

Tommy: Not what guy?

Buck: Not the guy who sleeps with his therapist

Tommy: I’m not sure if I should ask

Buck: Probably best

So..?

Tommy: Therapy helped me

I wasn’t a great guy before

Buck almost scoffs at his phone. Tommy the guy who drove him home and helped him up multiple flights of stairs, whilst injured, on their first meeting, wasn’t a good guy?

Buck: You? Be honest

Tommy: I wasn’t

Turns out repressing my sexuality and listening to what my father taught me is not a good combination

Hurt a lot of people because of it

But therapy helped

I’m comfortable being myself now

Buck has to pause at that. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with it, he just didn’t really expect it. Maybe that’s not a good thing to say. He’s an ally, actually. The rainbow flag in his bio every June proves that. 

Buck: Wait

You’re gay?

Tommy: I am, yeah. Is that a problem?

Buck: No of course not! Men are hot.

Tommy: Mmhmm  

Buck: So you think I should do it?

Tommy: Do what?

Buck: See a therapist

Tommy: I don’t know, Evan

That’s up to you

But if your doctor suggested it, maybe you should listen

Buck: And I don’t need to sleep with them?

Tommy: You definitely do not.

Even after the conversation, Buck can’t bring himself to dial the number on the card. His stomach rumbles after a while, and Buck looks at his watch, mildly surprised to find it past 3 pm. He drops the card on the coffee table, and hobbles to the kitchen with his cane to make himself some food. 

When he sits back down, his mind is focused on queer history, and he finds himself googling pride and forgetting all about therapy. It wasn’t like he needed it anyway.

[scarasbaefy]

when they lie

he lies, not knowing you already know the truth.

chars; kazuha, wanderer/scaramouche

; mentions of cheating, f.reader but can be read as g.neutral, not proof-read

note; DOING SOMETHING NEW!!!!! REQUESTS R OPEN BTW!!!!

;join taglist

Ⰶ

.kaedehara kazuha

“i’m so sorry, y/n. i wish i wasn’t the one telling you this, but i wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if i didn’t say anything. i’m extremely disappointed in his actions.” beidou said with a sorrowful look on her face.

she had explained to you moments prior about what she had seen on the deck of the ship while everyone was unloading cargo. kazuha had been kissing another passengers cheek as they held each other lovingly.

“i need to talk to him. thank you, beidou. i know you would never lie to me about something like this, but i have to hear from him myself.” you told the captain before heading to the location kazuha had told you he’d be at.

you arrived at the top of the hill. kazuhas back was facing you, but he turned to face you once he heard you approaching.

“i knew it was you,” he said with a smile, “my love, i’ve missed resting on land with you. come sit with me. the air feels lovely.”

“kazuha…” you ignored his request, “i feel as if something is wrong. is there someone else thats taking your attention? perhaps someone you’ve grown to like better than me?”

kazuha softly gasped, taking a step back before collecting his composure. he didn’t think there was any way you’d find out about him cheating. he loves you— but he loves this other woman as well. he had taken great precautions to make sure no one knew anything.

“of course not, darling,” your heart sank at his words. you didn’t know he was capable of lying. especially to your face. although you looked like you were going to be sick, he continued, “why would you even ask a silly question like that? you know i’d never do something like that to you. i love you and only you.”

“beidou told me everything.”

this time, his heart sank.

scaramouche

scaramouche is big on betrayals. he’s the last person who would commit such an act on you. or so you thought.

you and nahida were secretly looking out for scaramouche as he had left sumeru city to join a research team on their exploration. it’s something nahida had persuaded him to do so he wouldn’t be cooped up doing nothing.

the two of you giggled as you watched your boyfriend walk along the river, unknowing of yours and the archons presence. the laughter immediately came to a halt when nahidas eyes widened, a look of horror replacing what was once happiness. you followed the direction of her eyes, your smile dropping as you saw scaramouche greet another wanderer with a passionate kiss.

nahida was quick to release the spell on your out of body experience. tears flooded both yours and her eyes as the realisation started kicking in. who was that other person? why did neither you or nahida know a thing about this? did he really keep this under the radar to the point neither one of you grew a single speck of suspicion? a million questions flooded your brain, but nahida was there to comfort you.

the day scaramouche returned, you were ready to confront him. though, nahida had convinced you to put him to a test. would he lie to you or would he confess everything and be honest?

“hey, i’m back.” scaramouche hugged and kissed your forehead, “did you miss me? you better have. i missed you while i was away from you, so it’s only fair that you missed me as well.”

when you didn’t respond or reciprocate affection, he knew something was wrong. you bit your lip, contemplating on how to ask him about everything. your trust on his honesty wearing thin the more you would think about it.

“i doubt you missed me!” you faked a playful smile. “i bet you were out kissing other people or getting another girlfriend or something.” you rolled your eyes at him, pushing him away from you.

he laughed at your words as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “as if. you’re the only person i need. everyone else… i can’t trust.”

it was your turn to laugh. “don’t amuse me. you? can’t trust anyone else? i should be the one who can’t trust anyone. including you.”

scaramouche looked confused, so nahida cleared up his confusion by replaying his memory of the stranger over and over.

“you’re such a hypocrite.”

taglist;  @ulquiorraswife @yevurin @lovingveliona​ @i-luvyuu​  @x-aloeveraa-x  @mf-619lans

[misteria247]

1981, Fateful Encounter:

"You sure you'll be okay on your own, Fidds? I can stay behind-"

Stanley had begun to say only for Fiddleford to stop him in his tracks.

"Oh no, none of that now. I'm perfectly able to stay behind at the shack myself. Besides I don't think it's wise to leave Stanferd alone."

The inventor said his voice going quiet towards the end as he shot a look towards said man. Stanley flinched a bit, his own gaze settling onto his twin. Ford looked exhausted, with bags under his eyes and a far away look in them. His entire frame seemed to be taunt, like an arrow waiting to be released at even the slightest hint of a threat. Ever since that damn phone call, Ford hadn't been himself. And it scared the other two men, who couldn't figure out a way to help him. It was one of the reasons why at this moment the twins were going to go out and do an information collection for the broadcast. An attempt to distract Ford from whatever was plaguing him. Noticing the torn look Fidds grabbed Stanley's hand. Holding it gently in his own to try and comfort him. Enjoying the feeling of the warmth and callouses that covered them.

"I really will be fine Stanley. Honest. Now, go on and get you and your brother some fresh air. I'll get this place straightened up."

Fiddleford said his voice soft. Stanley's brown eyes softened, meeting greenish hazel and he gave a small smile.

"Alright Fiddlenerd. I trust ya. Just be careful okay?"

The larger man said, gaze searching. Fidds felt his chest get tight, face and heart warm with a feeling he couldn't put a name too. Before nodding in reassurance. With the promise to stay safe, Stanley finally let go of Fidds hands and made his way to Ford and the two set off out into the Gravity Falls forest. Fiddleford watched them go, already feeling a bit colder since Stan had let go of his hands. Once they were out of sight, the hillbilly genius got to work, restocking things and sorting papers. Checking equipment and fixing what was broken. He did this for a while, humming a small tune beneath his breath as he did so. Trying not to think about his friend's deteriorating state of mind. It was as he was putting the finishing touches on one of his projects that he had heard it.

The landline going off.

The sound of its shrill ringing broke the comfortable silence. Immediately making the man cautious. With a brief moment of hesitation, Fidds made his way over to the telephone and picked it up.

"Hello? This is the Mystery Podcast Trio station, how can I help you?"

Fiddleford asked, polite and business like with a bit of southern twang. Silence answered him, the brief sounds of static coming in and out.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

The inventor tried again, a growing sense of unease settling over him. He was about ready to hang up the phone when he heard it. Staticy muttering, too fast for him to make out but it made his skin crawl. After what felt like an eternity of it he finally heard a voice. A voice that made his stomach drop.

"Specs, wasn't expecting you! But I guess that makes this whole thing easier! Tell me......do you believe what your eyes show you?"

The voice, static and cheerful said. The Mystery Caller waited for a response while Fiddleford tried not to swallow his tongue in fear. The staticy white noise drilled its way into his eardrums and recalling what had happened to Stanford he tore the phone away from his ear. Only to his horror come to find that he could still hear the voice, loud and clear in his ears.

"Cuz I think you should. After all, the eyes never lie......"

The Mystery Caller said, his voice dripping with fake cheer. Fidds could barely concentrate, it was just so loud in the cabin all of a sudden. And it was then, he heard it through the static and ringing.

The sound of one of the bathroom doors opening.

Fiddleford froze, his heart pounding in time with the static. Turning slowly towards the direction of the bathroom, the genius barely kept back the scream of terror as he came to face.....

When Stanley and Ford returned to their home, they were greeted by a horrifying scene. The cabin was a wreck. Papers and books tossed and thrown around the room. Furniture overturned as if there had been a struggle. And in the middle of the carnage was Fiddleford. Staring wide eyed at the ceiling, his eyes bleeding and unseeing despite being still in tact. Stanley rushed forward, a cry of horror escaping him. Ford just stood there, dread and terror settling deep into his bones. Stanley grabbed Fidds shoulders, gently shaking him to try and snap him out of it. It was a moment before the country man did. And when he did he completely freaked out. Like a terrified animal he scrambled backwards, clutching his hair and yanking it as he went into hysterics.

"THE BEAST-! BEWARE OF THE BEAST WITH ONE EYE-!"

Fiddleford screeched, eyes scanning the room in terror as he trembled violently. Stanley froze, unknowing on how to help him other than to try and calm him down so he could get medical help for his eyes. Stanford however went rigid.

'Beware the beast. The beast with one eye.'

'I'll make you regret it IQ....'

[whyse7vn]

I’M SORRY -

[ ot7 x reader ]

JUNGKOOK -

jk: i’m sorry

jk: didn’t mean to make you upset :(

i hope i die

i should get jumped

barely survive

be on life support until i’m 50

and when i wake up die from the most painful heart attack recorded

i hope no one attends my funeral and i’m publicly and privately made fun of even after i’ve passed

hope my parents are ashamed and i hope that whenever the name jungkook is said people feel sick to their stomachs

i’m gonna throw up

gonna choke myself to death

i have the tightest grip on my throat rn

i’m going red

it’s fading to black

i’m sorry i wasn’t being a good boyfriend

tell bam that his dad was an asshole who didn’t deserve any rights

don’t even let him remember me as his father

i don’t deserve that title

i don’t deserve anything

not after what i did

burn all my clothes

delete all my pictures

tear my face off all posters

cross my name off all paperwork

i am not worthy of anything

y/n: shut up

jk: i’m sorry

y/n: i can tell

jk: i didn’t mean it

y/n: i forgive you

jk: really?

y/n: yeah

jk: do you really or are joking?

if ur joking it’s not a funny joke

y/n: you can come back home now

jk: really 🥺?

y/n: don’t ever use that emoji again

jk: sorry

i’m coming

omw

i love you

this is so great

y/n: you’re so dramatic

jk: i’m sorry

y/n: stop apologising

jk: sorry

i mean

ok

love u

y/n: hurry up

jk: 🏃‍♂️

SEOKJIN -

jin: can you talk to me now

hey

hey

hey

hey

hey

hey

hey

hey

i’m going to kms and it gonna be all your fault if you don’t reply to me

y/n: record it

jin: hey loml 😘😘❤️❤️❤️🤗🤗

WAIT WTF

THATS SO SICK?/?:£:££.&.&.&&.

y/n: what do you want?

jin: i love you ❤️💓🩷

y/n: bye

jin: WAITTTT :(((((((((((((((

pls

pls

pls

pls

pls

pls

pls

pls

pls

pls

pls

pls

y/n: what

jin: i’m outside 🤭🤗❤️

y/n: stay outside

jin: am i a dog?????

DON’T ANSWER THAT

anyways

i’ve come to see you princess 😘❤️‍🔥

y/n: gross

go home

jin: i am home 🥺

y/n: ur at MY home

jin: tu casa es mi casa 😚

y/n: that is not how that phrase goes

jin: let me inside pookie it’s cold 😍

y/n: you should have a key if it’s ur house

jin: LET ME IN IM TRYING SOSOSOSO HARD

FUCK YOU

ITS COLD

MY HAIR IS WET

IM DISTRESSED

LET ME INNNNNNNN

y/n: it took you 3 minutes

to be an asshole again

jin: :((((

i really tried that time

i can’t help it

this is real this is me

i was born this way

you can’t change me

ur the asshole if we think about it why are you trying to change people?? let the world know you LOSER

y/n: fyi you can stay outside

jin: PLS NOOOO PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS

y/n: “pls” doesn’t really sound like sorry to me…

jin: I SAID IM SORRY

I DIDN’T MEAN TO SHOUTT

IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRYYYYYYYYYYY

i love you

this is kinda sadistic if you think about it

didn’t know you was a freak like that bae

it’s okay i kinda like it

how about you let me in now

or do you want me to beg more???

pls oh plsssss let me in 🥺

i’ll never be mean again i promise 😇

pls 😚

hello??

babe??????

fr this isn’t funny

hello

HELLO

OPEN THE DOOR PLS

HELLLOOOO

OMH

HELLLLO

pls

i’m fr sorry

i mean it like genuinely

hello

…

okay let’s stop now

…………..

HELLLLO

fuck you

HOSEOK -

hobi: this fighting stuff kinda boring now

….

hello

i’m sorry

BOOOO

:(((

y/n: you can’t just walk out the house mid argument

hobi: in my defence u were being mean

y/n: so were you???

hobi: ??

y/n: be honest are you fr gonna just leave like that when things get hard?

hobi: i mean i might

y/n: …

hobi: things were pretty hard

y/n: AS MAN OF THE HOUSE YOU SHOULD OF GOT RID OF THE SPIDER

hobi: AS A FEMINIST I LEFT YOU TO TAKE CARE OF IT TO HELP YOU FEEL EMPOWERED

y/n: fuck you don’t come home

hobi: i would never lie to u bae 🙏🏼

and i would never suppress a moment for a woman to feel empowered

y/n: don’t actually fucking speak to me

hobi: ily

cheer up baby cheer up baby

y/n: picked the wrong member

jungkook would of helped me

hobi: omg????????

are you fr?

y/n: would never lie to you bae 🙏🏽

hobi: ….

JIMIN -

jimin:

y/n: ???

jimin: are you still mad at me?

y/n: yes jimin wtf

jimin: do you want to have sex?

y/n: yes jimin wtf

jimin: love you

y/n: whatever

jimin: say it back

y/n: i won’t

jimin: you will

y/n: definitely will not

jimin: i’ll sing for you

y/n: no thanks

jimin: no thanks?

y/n: no thanks.

jimin: you say that like i’m bad at singing

y/n: eh

jimin: eh?

y/n: eh.

jimin: i won’t have sex with you

y/n: aw man

jimin: don’t sound too sad

y/n: ok

jimin: you should be

y/n: i’m not

jimin: i go crazy in bed yk?

y/n: that is the ugliest thing you have ever said to me

jimin: if ur not in love with me just say that

y/n: i won’t

jimin: so ur IN love with me is what i’m hearing

y/n: ur not hearing anything cuz we are messaging rn

jimin: can you just tell me you love me like a normal person?

y/n: you don’t deserve it

jimin: okay maybe that’s true

but you should do it just once

pretty pls with a cherry on top 🥺

y/n: i’ll punch you

jimin: maybe i’ll enjoy it

y/n: nasty

jimin: kiss me

y/n: where are you?

jimin: ur really gonna kiss me?

y/n: ur talking long to tell me where you are so ig i’m not

jimin: joon’s studio

y/n: maybe i’m omw

jimin: ur so in love with me it’s kinda gross 🤭

YOONGI -

yoongi: :3

y/n: die tbh

yoongi: :3

y/n: your stupid faces mean nothing to me

yoongi: :3

y/n: …

yoongi: :33333

y/n: i hate you

yoongi: :Ɛ

y/n: ew wtf how did you do that

yoongi: Ɛ:

y/n: stop omg

yoongi: i’m sorry :3

y/n: cool

yoongi: i’m fr :3

y/n: idc :3

yoongi: you used the face :3

ur not mad :3

y/n: ur logic is wrong

yoongi: bring the face back :3

and it’s not logic it’s common sense :3

y/n: ur wrong

yoongi: never been wrong a day in my life :3

y/n: that’s crazy

so when you shouted at me for no reason you weren’t in the wrong?

good to know

yoongi: okay i never said that :3

y/n: but you did

yoongi: ur being annoying :3

y/n: fuck you

DID YOU JUST SEND ME 10K?????????

yoongi: did i? :3

y/n: you can’t just buy my forgiveness

yoongi: i can’t? :3

y/n: this is not how relationships work yoongi

yoongi: this is how our relationship works :3

y/n: no it’s not

STOP SENDING ME MONEY OMG?:£:£:’

yoongi: :3

y/n: you are still not forgiven leave me alone

yoongi: unforgiven i’m a villain :3

y/n: SEND ANOTHER 10k AND UR GETTING BLOCKED

yoongi: ur making me real upset rn :3

y/n: go back to work

yoongi: stop being mad at me :3

y/n: die

yoongi: don’t say that i’m about to get on a plane :3

y/n: now i feel bad

yoongi: say sorry :3

y/n: nvm

yoongi: :(

look you’ve made me change faces hope you feel bad :(

y/n: i don’t

yoongi: ur sick and twisted :(

y/n: cry about it

yoongi: really hope i survive this plane ride :(

y/n: i will not be guilt tripped by you

yoongi: you told me to die knowing i was getting on a plane :(

y/n: bye

yoongi: what if i had a deep deep fear of flying and u made that fear 10x worse rn :(

y/n: you don’t

yoongi: you don’t know a thing :(

y/n: fuck you

yoongi: do you really want ur last words to me be fuck you :(

y/n: fly safe

TAEHYUNG -

y/n: no

tae: hiiiiiiii

wtf how did you know

y/n: blocked

tae: NONONONONONO

y/n: you have one minute

go

tae: i am walking alone rn

y/n: ???

tae: on the street

y/n: ok?

tae: alone

y/n: you said that

tae: ALONE

ALL ALONE

y/n: right

tae: it’s not right actually

ITS VERY FAR FROM RIGHT

i’m ALONE

do you know what could happen to me rn?

i could literally be snatched up off the street by anyone

y/n: hopefully it’s a rehabilitation centre 🙏🏽

tae: WHAG IS UR PROBLEM

IM ALONE ALONE ALONE ALONE

ME

KIM TAEHYUNG ALONE ON THE STREET

WHAT ARE YOU NOT GETTING HERE?

y/n: ur one minute is up

tae: no it’s not

can you pls care for me rn i’m stressed out

y/n: it was pretty stressful when you stood me up yesterday

but i powered through 💪🏽

i’m sure you can do the same!!!

tae: that never happened

pls let’s pretend that never happened

i’m the perfect boyfriend i swear

y/n: get lost

like actually

never come back

tae: 😢

you don’t even mean that

y/n: are you sure?

tae: IM SORRY PLS PLSPLSSSSSS

forgive me

y/n: no

tae: you can have my card

y/n: don’t want it

tae: take my house

i’ll give you my keys rn

y/n: i have ur keys

tae: you do?

you thief omg

give them back

y/n: you left them here???

after YOU stormed out my house after you made ME upset

tae: oh yeah

i’m coming back now

y/n: asshole

tae: let’s put this behind us and move on

that’s a great idea i say

y/n: you are single

tae: don’t say that

y/n: said it

tae: we are actually engaged and expecting our 10th child

y/n: you are single

tae: top 10 singles

made a few of those in my time

LOL

i’m funny right

say i’m funny

y/n: it’s painful talking to you

tae: painfully in love with me are you?

y/n: it’s like i’m taking to a brick wall

you have like selective hearing

tae: what i’m hearing is you want to kiss me on the lips?

y/n: call an ambulance

tae: feeling so much love for me ur throwing up?

???

hello

oh

ok

maybe i do deserve this

NAMJOON -

y/n: would you now like to explain why the hell you sent halsey flowers on MY birthday??

namjoon: it wasn’t just on ur birthday i’ve been sending them all week for like a month now

y/n: namjoon what the fuck??

namjoon: i’m confused

y/n: UR confused????

do you like her or something?

namjoon: ofc i like her!

y/n: so ur cheating?

namjoon: what

y/n: ur cheating on me and you have no shame???

what the actual fuck is wrong with you??

namjoon: i’m not cheating?

y/n: for a month now you’ve been sending another girl that you like flowers

EVERY WEEK???

namjoon: every friday

y/n: fuck you

namjoon: i’m confused how that’s cheating when you told me to do that?

y/n: WHEN HAVE I EVER SAID “OH NAMJOON SEND OTHER BITCHES FLOWERS”

namjoon: you literally said you loved how halsey’s bf gave her flowers every week and that you wished i did that?

y/n: ….

there is no way

….

namjoon

oh my god

kim fucking namjoon

LMAOOSO ARE YOU FR?

namjoon: what??? i’m so confused pls tell me what i did wrong

i would never cheat on you

ur freaking me out

y/n: think about it

why would i wish you sent halsey flowers?

think

like really think

namjoon: IDK i was confused as hell but you seemed like you really wanted me to

so i did

y/n: i meant i wanted you to buy ME flowers you idiot omg

namjoon: oh

that makes a lot more sense

y/n: yeah

you are the dumbest smart man i’ve ever met

namjoon: my fault

i get confused sometimes 😞

y/n: i love you

namjoon: i love you too

ur not mad anymore?

y/n: could never be mad at you silly

[fortheloveofwonderland]

No Distance Left to Run | Part 3 | S.R

Previous Part | Next Part

Chapter Summary - With your secrets coming to light you decide to take some time off to get your life in order. And that includes putting some between you and Spencer.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / BAU Fem! Reader

Category - friends to lovers | mutual pining | angst with happy ending | smut minors DNI

Warnings - spoilers for 14.05 Tall Man, break ups, abusive relationship, making out, bruises, scars, readers insecurities, tears, cheating, fingering, handjob, allusions to sex, swearing, brief mention of past drug addiction, brief mention of prison.

WC - 7.7k

Part 3 - Hide and Seek

Present Day 

Spencer caught up with Max in the reception hall, stopping her leaving with a hand around her wrist. 

When she turned to face him he saw the unshed tears behind her eyes. 

“I’m really sorry you had to hear that.” He swallowed. 

“Me too.” She nodded sadly. 

In his peripheral vision he noticed someone pass by, dressed in a caterer's uniform. He waited for them to leave before he spoke again. 

“I’ve been in love with her for so long it’s just become a part of who I am.” He confessed. “I never let myself get close to anyone on the off chance she might have one day decided she felt the same. Just before I met you we…we, uh, slept together and she just up and left while I was asleep and never mentioned it again. It told me everything I needed to know, and so I made the decision to finally move on. I opened myself up to being with someone else and there you were. 

I really like you Max, I think we could have had something really amazing. But I can’t lie to you and tell you that I’m not always going to have feelings for Y/N, because at this point I’m sure they will never go away. And that’s not fair on you.” 

“No, it's not.” She shook her head. 

“I got held hostage yesterday, Y/N and I did.” He sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “The unsub liked to play truth or dare. He had a gun pointed at her and made her confess to a secret she would never admit outloud.” 

Max narrowed her eyes on him, despite not being a profiler she could easily read between the lines.

“She told you she has feelings for you?” 

“She did.” Spencer nodded. “I still don’t know if she meant it or not, or if she was just trying to shock the guy.”

“Spencer,” Max sighed deeply. “For a genius you are pretty dumb sometimes.” 

“Uh, I’m sorry?” Spencer’s brows furrowed at her.

“The first time you introduced me to your team, I could tell within five minutes that she had feelings for you. I’m no expert in reading human behaviour but I can read women. She barely said two words to me, she wouldn’t look me in the eyes. And every time I looked at her, she was staring longingly at you.” Max shrugged. 

“I’m not even sure any of that matters.” He shook his head. “She’s married, albeit not happily. She has two wonderful kids. It’s not my place to break up a family.” 

“It sounds like that family broke itself up.” 

“You heard a lot more of that conversation than I realised.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. “I’m not gonna be the guy that swoops in when her husband has just been arrested for trying to kill her.” 

“I can’t tell you what to do.” Max shrugged. “But fifteen years is a really long time to carry a torch for someone. I think the two of you at least owe yourselves an honest conversation.” 

After all this time? Always.

“I really am sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you, that was the last thing I ever wanted to do.”

“I’ll bounce back.” Her lip quipped into something close to a smile. “It sucks, but I’ll bounce back.” 

Spencer dared to step closer to her, placing his hand on her lower back and leaning in to gently kiss her cheek. When he stepped back the two of them looked at each other somewhat wistfully for a moment or two, silent goodbyes passing between them. Eventually Max took a few steps backwards, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“Take care of yourself, Spencer.”

“You too.” He nodded and watched as she turned on her heels and continued towards the door. 

He fell back against the nearest wall, resting his head on it and looking up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how to begin processing everything. In the space of twenty four hours you’d told him you loved him, he’d broken up with Max and he’d discovered your husband was in prison for almost murdering you. 

How had you managed to keep that from him? He could usually read you so well, how he had not seen it? 

He thought back over the last five days since he’d returned from teaching. The first two you’d been lost in somewhat of a daze, as though you were sleepwalking with your eyes open. 

By the third day something shifted. You seemed happier, lighter even. He’d seen a smile on your face he hadn’t seen in years. 

Now he knew why that was. It was the smile of a woman who had finally gotten out of the clutches of her abuser. 

Another thought hit him then with startling clarity.

Five nights ago he’d had a missed call from you. He’d asked you about it the next day but you’d insisted it must have been a pocket dial. 

You’d called him the night Jared was arrested. Did you try to call him with your husband's hand around your throat? Was it after? Maybe even before? 

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. In all the years he’d known you he didn’t think he’d ever not answered a phone call from you. And the one time you’d needed him most, he’d been…indisposed. 

He kept his eyes screwed tightly shut, half hoping he may disappear into the wall his back was pressed up against. 

You’d needed him and he hadn’t been there. For the first time in fifteen years, Spencer had chosen someone else over you. 

***

Five Days Ago

Max had been insistent that she and Spencer take things slow. She’d been hurt in the past, disappointed when she hurried into something. 

And Spencer was happy to oblige. At least he had been for the most part. 

He was a gentleman, and it wasn’t as though he was used to getting regular sex and therefore it shouldn’t have made a difference whether or not they were sleeping together. 

Before his night spent with you in Varnville, it had been a painfully long time since he’d gotten laid, well before his arrest in Mexico. And even before then it wasn’t as though he’d been sleeping around or anything. 

Truthfully Spencer had only ever slept with a handful of women. Not even a handful really. He could count his sexual encounters on one hand and still have fingers left over. 

It was a combination of things. For one, Spencer didn’t relish the idea of having sex for the sake of it. Sure it would be nice to feel close to someone but if he didn’t have some kind of preexisting feelings for them then he wasn’t interested. Secondly, even if he did like the idea of casual sex, he was far too awkward to initiate such a thing.

And thirdly, Spencer never did like the thought of having sex with anyone who wasn’t you.

So it hadn’t bothered him that Max wanted to take it slow. At first. But after four months of nothing but heavy make out sessions, he was craving more. And thank god that Max seemed to be on the same page.

He’d taken her for dinner and afterwards he’d suggested going back to his place. He knew she saw through the innocent seeming offer for what it really was but he’d been delighted when she’d smiled and agreed. 

He’d been full of nervous anticipation on the cab ride to his apartment, thinking back to the state in which he might have left his home. Were there dishes in the sink? Books scattered around the place? Did he even make his bed?

Do I have any condoms?

They’d barely breached the threshold of his apartment before he was kissing her fiercely, letting her know his true intentions. And thank god she didn’t seem to mind. 

She’d led him to his bedroom by his tie and he followed like some kind of lost puppy. Once inside the room, gratefully he had at least made his bed, they started undressing each other. 

Down to their underwear he guided her back to the bed and laid down on top of her, kissing her while his hand wandered the planes of her body. 

She was moaning into his mouth, arching her back as his hand wandered lowered, wasting no time in dipping beneath the waistband of her panties. 

He was grinding against her thigh to relieve a little friction as his hand moved between her legs. As he did so, his phone rudely started bleating from across the room. 

He chose to ignore it, burying his face into the crook of Max’s neck whilst pressing two fingers against her entrance. 

“Don’t you need to get that?” She panted. 

“Right now? Absolutely not.” He spoke into her skin. 

“What if it’s the BAU?” 

“I’m not due back until tomorrow. If it’s urgent they’ll keep calling. For now, I have more pressing things to take care of.” 

“Spencer I really think you should-” Max’s sentence petered out to a moan when Spencer dove his fingers inside of her. 

Whoever was calling could wait. This was much more urgent. 

***

Present Day

“You know, don’t you?” You asked Penelope as the bubbly blonde hugged her god children. Penelope looked up at you over their heads. “You’re looking at me with that kind of pity we use on victims.” 

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I was worried about you.” She gave Adeline and Finley another squeeze before she let them go. 

“Does anyone else know?” 

“Reid.” She rolled her lip between her teeth somewhat guiltily. 

“Please don’t tell anyone else. Not yet. I will tell them but not today.” You pleaded. 

“Of course.” She nodded. 

“Uncle Spencer!” Adie suddenly chirupped, dashing towards the dejected looking man who was quick to plaster a smile on his face.

“Adie!” He held his arms open for her as your daughter launched herself at him. “Gosh it’s been so long, you've gotten so big.” 

“I’m the third tallest in my class.” She grinned as she wrapped her arms around his waist. 

“No kidding.” He hugged her back. 

Finely sidled up to them, looking a little deflated he wasn’t getting the same treatment from his favourite uncle. 

Spencer patted Adie’s back and she let him go so her brother could say hello. 

“Hey there little man.” Spencer once again held his arms open and Finley responded by jumping up and Spencer just managed to catch the five year old as he wrapped his legs around his waist. 

Spencer made a small grunting sound of surprise, cradling the young boy against him. 

“Missed you uncle Spencer.” Fin buried his head against Spencer's shoulder. 

“I missed you too buddy.” Spencer held him tightly. 

“My daddy’s gone away.” He mumbled against Spencer’s suit jacket. 

Spencer’s eyes found yours and he smiled sadly at you. 

“Yeah, I heard about that. Are you ok?” He spoke softly. 

You both knew he wasn’t talking to Fin, even Garcia knew it. You nodded your head as your arms snaked around your body. 

“I miss him.” Fin sniffled. 

“I don’t.” Adie huffed unceremoniously. “He was mean to mom.” 

Your chest tightened. You hated the way your daughter knew what was going on. You’d only ever wanted to protect your children from the world and it had backfired. 

“Adie,” you whispered her name. “Please stop saying things like that in front of your brother. We talked about this.” 

“Fine.” She huffed again. “Can I go find Henry and Michael?” 

“Please,” you nodded. “Fin, sweetheart?”

He looked up from Spencer’s shoulder as you approached, placing a gentle hand on your son's back. 

“Yes mommy?” 

“You’re too big for uncle Spencer to carry you like that. Can you get down for me, please?” 

“He’s ok.” Spencer tried to insist even though he looked like he was struggling. 

“Yeah, I’m ok.” Fin agreed with him. 

Garcia sensed the looks passing between you and Spencer while she rolled her lip in her teeth. She tottered forward, closer to the three or you. 

“Hey, Fin? How do you want to help me with a top secret wedding day mission?” She tried to make it sound exciting. 

It must have worked as Finley’s eyes widened as they flicked between you and his Aunty Penelope. 

“Can I?’ He asked you tentatively.

“Of course.” You nodded. 

He wriggled in Spencer’s arms and Spencer placed him back on his feet, subtly trying to stretch his back once he was unburdened from your son. 

Fin took hold of Penelope’s hand and she shot you a smile as she headed off with him. 

Caterers still milled about on the patio, but for the most part you and Spencer were alone. For the first time he allowed himself to take you in. 

You wore a figure hugging, strapless purple dress that stopped just below your knees. Your make-up was flawless, your hair styled to perfection. 

You hugged your arms around your body again and that’s when he noticed it. The silver band on your wrist caught the light, the tiny golden snitch sparkling. 

His stomach coiled into knots. You hadn’t worn it in more years than he could count. 

Did it mean something? Did the fact you were wearing it now mean something for the two of you? Were you trying to tell him something? 

His eyes landed back on yours and you could see all the questions running through his mind. 

“I, uh…I really don’t want to talk about it. Not here. Please?” You shook your head. 

“What don’t you want to talk about?” He took a half step closer to you. “The fact that your husband was arrested for almost killing you or that you told me you loved me?” 

“Both. Neither. I know we have to talk but does it have to be now?” You begged him. 

“You almost died.” 

“Which time?” You offered him a meek smile. “We’re FBI Agents. Almost dying is kind of a regular occurance.”

“Not in your own home. Not at the hands of your own husband.” He took another half step forward. “You called me that night. I didn’t answer.”

“Please don’t beat yourself up over that. It was after the fact. The weight of it all hit me and I just needed to talk to someone. But it’s fine, please don’t feel bad.” 

“I was with Max.” He shrugged. “We were…it doesn’t matter what we were doing.” 

“You think I can’t read between those lines?” You chuckled dryly. 

“Right, of course.” He exhaled through his nose. “I should have answered. You are more important to me than anything Max and I were doing.” 

“It’s ok, really. I don’t need you protecting me all the time.”

“Well that’s too bad because I’m gonna do it anyway.” He shrugged lightly with a soft half-smile.

He took another step closer to you and raised his hand to your neck. You’d done a really good job covering the bruises with a combination of foundation and concealer, something you’d had to grow adept at. And maybe it was simply in Spencer’s imagination, but he swore he could see the purple marks peeking through the make-up. 

His fingers brushed lightly against your skin and you sucked in a breath at the sensation. Goosebumps erupted on your flesh at his featherlight touch. 

“I really wish you would have let me help you.” He whispered.

“I know. But if I’d left he would have come after us. It never would have ended. I needed proof, I needed to get him in a compromised position so that when they arrested him, the charges would stick.” 

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed and he dropped his hand to his side again. 

“You set him up? You purposefully put yourself in danger?” He looked incredulous.

“It was the only way.” You shrugged. “You put the idea in my head a year ago when you talked about the statistics of domestic abuse. A gun being present increases the chances of homicide by five hundred percent. I had to bide my time, pick the best moment. Before we left for the case in Lewiston, Adie said something interesting. And I decided to be frank with her…”

…“Daddy did that, didn’t he?” 

“Wh-what?” You were quick to pull your sleeve back up. “What makes you think that, sweet pea?” 

“I saw him. I saw him shove you. And it’s not the first time.”

“You’re too smart for your own good.” You smiled sadly at her. 

“I’m right though, aren’t I?” She pouted.

“Yes,” your eyes welled with tears, hating to involve her in this. “Sweetheart, can you do something for me?”

“Anything mommy.” She nodded. 

“If you ever see daddy hurting mommy again, I want you to call 9-1-1. Tell them I’m an FBI agent and they will get here faster. Can you do that for me?” You stroked her hair back off of her face while she nodded frantically…

“...I packed a bag, I knew he’d find it. I knew it would anger him, the thought of me taking his kids away. I deliberately didn’t put my firearm away in the safe that night in case I needed to use it. He wasn’t supposed to get hold of it, that wasn’t part of the plan. But I made sure to anger him enough for him to raise his voice. Adie is a light sleeper. He needed to be caught in the act. I hate that I used my daughter like that but it was never going to end. Not until I was dead or he was arrested.” 

Spencer took in your words, processing them all in his mind. He could tell how hard it must have been for you to put that responsibility on Adie but he’d worked enough cases of domestic violence to know what a vicious cycle it is. 

You were right, if Jared wasn’t arrested it could very well result in your being killed at the hands of your husband. And then it would be too late. 

His hand raised again, this time he cupped the back of your neck and used his grip to pull you closer to him. 

You fell against him, instantly wrapping your arms around his waist while he did the same. 

He inhaled the scent of your shampoo. The last time he’d been this close to you was seven months ago in a hotel room in Varnville. 

He got a little lost at the mere thought. 

***

Seven Months Ago

“I married the wrong man.” You whimpered, glancing at your left hand on Spencer’s shoulder and the silver wedding band on your finger. “I knew it when he proposed to me. I knew it when I was walking down that aisle. And you knew it too, you were just too polite to tell me the truth.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded stiffly. “You did marry the wrong man.” 

A silent understanding passed between the two of you, the kind of understanding that existed only between two people who knew each other inside and out. 

And when he leaned in closer and his lips brushed against yours, it felt right. It felt like the most normal thing in the whole world. 

It continued to feel that way when he deepened the kiss, nearly fifteen years worth of feelings coming out in a single kiss. As he held you close he whispered against your lips, “after all this time? Always.” 

And you finally understood what he meant. 

He held your face tenderly as though you might break if he wasn’t careful, crumble to dust in his hands. Perhaps you would. His lips were slightly rough against yours from copious chewing, the frantic nature in which he kissed you caused your teeth to knock together. 

His tongue hungrily explored your mouth with the desperation of a man who had thought of nothing but doing this since the first time he laid eyes on you. He started moving you towards the bed and you complied without a second thought. 

His hands ghosted down your neck and across your shoulders until he reached the top button of your blouse you’d thrown back on before hurriedly leaving your room earlier. He continued to kiss you whilst working on the buttons but he felt you tense up a little.

When he reached the last button, you tore your lips from his, gasping a little for air. When he opened his eyes he saw yours were full of unshed tears.

“Are you ok? Did I cross a line?” His puffy kiss-swollen lips were downturned as he looked at you. 

You swallowed thickly, chewing on the inside of your cheek. 

“I’m scared of what you’re going to say.” You whispered, your voice cracking as you spoke.

“What I’m going to say about what?” He frowned at you in confusion.

You took a breath, a small tear escaping your eyes as you took a step back and shrugged the open shirt off of your shoulders. 

Spencer’s eyes cast downwards to your torso, momentarily distracted by your bare breasts, which he had imagined so many times but in reality they were so much more incredible. But he didn’t have a chance to give them the attention they deserved.

His stomach lurched wildly as he took in your entire body. You saw the way his jaw clenched and he violently gnawed on his lip. 

He took in each and every scar adorned on your body at the hands of your husband. A splotchy healed burn similar to the one on your forearm only larger spread across the left side of your stomach, an old, healed scar nestled against the swell of your right breast, another slightly smaller one on your rib cage. There was a fresh purple bruise on the other side of your other rib cage.

He rubbed his hand across his stubbly jaw as he looked back to meet your eyes. A few more tears were rolling down your cheeks now. 

“I can go,” you shrugged. “I know they’re hideous. I’m sorry.” 

“Hey,” Spencer moved closer to you, cupping your face in his hands again. “There is not a single hideous thing about you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, Y/N.” 

“After all this time?” You smiled a shaky smile, partially quoting The Deathly Hallows.

“Always.” He finished, kissing you again with more passion than before. 

You allowed him to help you back to the bed where he didn’t take his lips off of yours for a second. Your hands ran down his sides, finding the hem of his t-shirt and tugging it upward.

He sat back so you could get the garment over his head and threw aside. He looked down on you, taking in your scars again. You tried to shy away, tried to hide them with your arms but he simply pulled them away.

“Let me show you how beautiful I think you are.” He mumbled, shuffling a little down the bed. 

His lips ghosted across your skin until they found the scar on the side of your breast. He gently pressed his lips to the old wound, placing delicate kisses along the length of it. His hand was on your side, fingertips brushing over the bruises lining your rib cage. You moaned a little, closing your eyes and giving over to the sensation. 

He moved his lips lower, towards the scar on your other side and treated that with as much caution as the first. And then they trailed lower and tenderly kiss every inch of the old burn across your stomach. 

He was so compassionate with you it forced a few more tears from your eyes. You weren’t sure anyone had ever treated you with this level of care before and you’d never realised how much you’d needed that. 

When he sat back again on his haunches, his face was a little flushed and it only took one glance downwards to see the tent pitching in his pants to understand why. You reached for him, gripping the waistband of the flannel pyjama pants and pulling him closer. You palmed him through the flimsy fabric and he bucked against your hand, hissing a little. 

He glanced down and you saw him tense a little. When he met your eye again he had an unsure expression on his features. 

“Could you…do you think you could…” He nodded his head towards your hand still palming him and the wedding band adorned on your finger. “Is it too much to ask for you to take it off?” 

You snatched your hand away suddenly, balling it into a fist and looking somewhat forlornly at the ring. 

“I…I’ve never taken it off before. Not once since I got married.” You swallowed. 

“I understand.” Spencer sighed. “But I don’t think I can do this and look at your wedding ring.” 

You looked between him and the ring. The band symbolised your marriage to a man who had caused the scars in which Spencer had so lovingly kissed. You uncurled your fingers, suddenly not caring about that stupid piece of metal. Not while Spencer was here, looking at you the way he was and making you feel safe and loved for the first time in years.

You tugged the ring off in one swift move and leant over to drop it on the nightstand. You drew Spencer back in for a kiss before you could dwell too much on what you were doing. 

You palmed him through his pants again while he kissed you, his own hands wandering to your slacks and popping the button. 

He sat back once more so he could help you out of your pants and then wriggled free of his own, leaving you both in just your underwear. 

He breathed you in again, trying to commit you to memory. He’d spent so many years imagining this moment and he didn’t want to miss a second of it. 

“Y/N I…” he trailed off, not allowing himself to finish that sentence that could destroy this before it had begun. 

He wanted to say it, he’d wanted to say it for nearly fifteen years. But somehow you knew what he wanted to say. 

“I know Spence,” you nodded. “I know.” 

He smiled a little sorrowfully at you before he laid on top of you and kissed you again. His fingers brushed over your scars but continued lower and when they dipped beneath the waistband of your panties you whined against his lips. 

He ran his fingers between your legs, hissing when he realised how wet you were. He gathered your slick on his fingers, feeling his cock throb at the sensation. 

He was careful when he pressed two fingers against your entrance, hesitating as though he thought you may change your mind. 

As encouragement, your hand wandered between your bodies and straight inside his boxers, taking his shaft in your hand. 

He growled against your mouth, nibbling on your bottom lip as a way of thanking you. He cautiously pushed his fingers past your entrance until they were buried deep inside of you. 

Your thighs clenched around his hand when his fingertips brushed against your cervix. He moved his lips down to your neck while you started slowly stroking him. 

His hips moved of their own accord, gently thrusting back and forth into your hand. His fingers dove in and out of you, each time pounding slightly harder against your bundle of nerves. 

You were writhing beneath him on the bed, your walls fluttering around his fingers and your moans filling the room like the most beautiful song he’d ever heard. His head was already leaking on your hand, it had been so long since someone had touched him like this. 

You used your free hand to cup his jaw, moving his face so you could meet his gaze. 

“Spence, I need more.” You whimpered, still stroking him leisurely. 

“O-ok.” He nodded, plunging his fingers deep inside of you and scissoring the digits a little.

You mewled, you back arching off the bed and squeezing the base of his shaft tightly in your hand. 

“Do you have…?” You panted. 

“Uh, yeah.” He nodded, his cheeks flushing red. “Luke’s been trying to uh, get me laid for a while now. Insisted I keep some on me.” 

He cautiously withdrew his fingers and you whined a little as he did so. You removed your hand from him and sat up on your elbows.

“Trying?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“And failing. Miserably.” He inhaled deeply, cheeks turning a darker shade of red. “I haven’t had sex since long before I was arrested. And I have absolutely no idea why I’m telling you that.” 

“It’s been a long time since I…since I…” you trailed off, stifling a sob that wanted to wrack your body. “Since I’ve chosen to do this.”

“Oh Jesus,” Spencer frowned at you. “Y/N I-”

“Please don’t. Please don’t feel sorry for me. I want this Spencer, I need this. Please?” You insisted, your eyes frantically begging him. 

He inhaled shakily, nodding his head. He kissed you softly before pushing himself up from the bed and finding his satchel on the chair. He quickly located the stash of condoms Luke had forced upon him, thankful for that fact now. He plucked one out and turned back to you as you were wiggling your panties over your hips. 

He looked at you in awe, laid out naked for him like this. He didn’t feel as though he deserved you, perhaps no one did. You were too good for this world. 

“You’re sure about this?” He asked as he padded back over. “Because I won’t be offended if you want to stop.” 

“Spencer, let me be clear,” you looked him dead in the eyes. “I want this. I want you. I want this like I have never wanted anything else in my life. Please? Please make me feel good?” 

He nodded with a sad smile as he came closer to the bed. He couldn’t deny you that, not when you looked at him that way. 

He removed his underwear before climbing back on the bed, kneeling over you and taking one last opportunity to breathe you in. 

Somehow he already knew that this didn’t have a happy ending. 

***

Present Day

You listened to Emily’s tear jerking speech about twin flames, trying to hide your misty eyes behind the head of your son who was falling asleep on your lap. Adeline sat next to you, her hand in yours offering it a soft squeeze every now and then. 

“Sometimes it takes time, sometimes it takes a parallel universe or something. But the thing about twin flames is that nothing can keep them apart, they are a magic unto themselves. And together they light the way for all of us.” 

You felt Spencer’s eyes on you across the room but refused to meet his gaze. If you did you would surely crumble and now was not the time. There would be plenty of time to ruminate on the last few days later, but for now you had to hold it together a little while longer.

After the speech everyone took to the dancefloor and Finley was completely out by this point, snoring against your shoulder. And honestly you were pleased because it gave you an excuse to leave. 

You carried your sleeping son over towards the happy couple with Adie in tow, gripping your forearm. You said your goodbyes and congratulated them once more before taking your children home.

You tried to make a quick getaway but of course he found you, as you fought with trying to get your jacket on whilst cradling your son at the same time. 

“Let me help you.” Spencer hurried over, seeing you struggle.

“I’m fine, really.” You responded as you proceeded to drop your jacket on the floor. “Goddamn.” 

Spencer rolled his eyes and came closer, prying the young boy from your arms and holding him while you picked up your jacket. Being such a sound sleeper, Fin didn’t even notice the handoff. 

“Thank you.” You slid your jacket on. 

“No worries.” Spencer shrugged. “Need a ride?” 

“I have a car.” You found your hand being grabbed by your daughter and she held you tightly. 

When Adie grabbed your hand his stomach coiled as his attention was directed to your ring again. It wasn’t the first time today he noticed you still wore it. 

He supposed it was still fresh, but he hated to see it there as though nothing had happened. 

“Right, of course.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “Let me help you outside.” 

You wanted to resist but it was easier to just let him help. You and Adie led the way while Spencer carried Fin towards your car. Adie got herself situated in the front seat while Spencer cautiously lowered Fin into the back and got his belt buckled. 

He closed the door and looked back at you, a somewhat melancholy expression on his face. 

“You want any company?” He asked with a slight frown.

“I have two kids, I always have company.” You folded your arms over your chest.

“I meant like, adult company.” He spoke but quickly pulled a face. “Not in the way that sounds. Jeez, I swear that was not meant to sound like a come on.” 

“Spence,” you sighed wistfully. “I think you and I need some time apart right now. Or at the very least I need some time apart from you. I really need to focus myself on my kids right now, try and figure out what happens next. Quite frankly I don’t have the head space to deal with whatever is going on between us right now.” 

You saw the hurt spread to his features, hurt and a small hint of understanding. 

“Y/N?” He rolled his lip between his teeth. “Truth or dare?” 

You sucked in a breath, closing your eyes for a fraction of a second before opening them and looking at him again.

“Truth.” You croaked. 

“Did you mean it?” 

Your eyes flit down to your bracelet, eyeing the inscription for a moment or two before you looked back at Spencer. There was a simple answer and a complicated one, neither of which you wanted to get into right now.

“Spencer I-”

“Mommy, I’m hungry.” Adie’s whiny tone pierced the closed windows of the car. 

You looked at her over your shoulder and nodded with a soft smile. 

“I should go.” You told Spencer. 

“Right,” Spencer nodded stiffly. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Actually, you won’t.” You cleared your throat. “I told you, I need to focus on my kids right now. Emily’s given me a few weeks off. She doesn’t know why but thankfully she didn’t ask too many questions.”

“Are we going to be ok?” He frowned at you. 

“I…”

“Mom!” Adie whined again. 

“Two seconds, honey!” You called back. “I don’t know, Spencer. My husband of ten years just got arrested for trying to choke me to death, so excuse me if I don’t have an answer for you right now.” 

You turned your back on him and opened the driver’s side door, but before you could slide inside his hand was on your shoulder. Your back went rigid and you were clenching your jaw when you looked back at him. 

“What? What do you want now, Spencer?” Your eyes misted over with tears. 

“At the end of the day, despite everything that has happened, you are my best friend Y/N. You are my best friend above all else. If you need anything, anything at all, please call me. You’re not in this alone.” He reached out and briefly brushed his fingertips against your cheek before stepping back out of reach to stop him doing it again. 

You nodded but he saw in your eyes you had no intention of doing so. 

“I gotta go.” You said instead. You looked down at your bracelet again and with a sigh you fumbled with the clasp and got it undone. “I shouldn’t have…I don’t even know why I did.” 

Spencer dumbly let you place the bracelet in his hand and simply watched as you slid inside the car and closed the door. 

You started the engine and soon your vehicle was pulling away whilst he was left staring down at the gift he’d bestowed upon you on your wedding day. 

A single tear escaped his eyes as he curled his fingers around it. That one gesture told him everything you hadn’t said. 

Whether or not you’d meant what you said whilst being held hostage was irrelevant. The act of giving him back the bracelet meant no matter what you felt for him the two of you would never be together. 

You may as well have handed him back his barely beating, tattered heart. 

***

Six Months Ago 

“I get why JJ’s been on edge but this ain’t your hometown. Why the face?” Luke startled Spencer out of his stare down with the coffee machine. 

The Tall Man case had them in JJ’s hometown of East Allegheny where she’d been dragged down into a torrent of old memories surrounding her sisters suicide. 

Meanwhile, Spencer was stuck in his own tidal wave, he had been for weeks now. He was still reeling from the events in Varnville, the fact that you’d barely spoken to him since. 

“I’m just tired, I guess.” He shrugged it off but Luke wasn’t buying it. 

“You’ve been just tired every time I’ve asked you for the last month. What’s up? You seemed to be getting better after…”

“After I spent three months in prison?” Spencer fielded when Luke trailed off. 

“Yeah,” Luke smiled sadly. “What’s going on with you, man?” 

“It’s complicated.” Spencer let out a sigh. “I did something kinda dumb and I don’t know how to fix it.” 

“You don’t know how to fix something?” Luke chuckled. “Impossible.” 

Spencer averted his gaze, rolling his lip between his teeth. Luke scrutinised him, reading his body language before a smile of understanding tugged at his lips. 

“You met someone.” Luke mused. 

Spencer’s eyes shot back up, wide like a guilty child. 

“Kind of?” Spencer huffed. “But I messed it up before it had a chance to begin.” 

“Did you at least get laid?” Luke tilted his head curiously.

“Seriously, Alvez?” Spencer groaned. 

“You so did.” Luke laughed, clapping a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “About time.” 

“Yeah well it’s not likely to ever happen again.” 

“What did you do?” Luke cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Why would you assume I did something?” 

“I don’t know. Did you?” 

“I…I don’t think so?” Spencer’s face scrunched up. 

“Are you bad in bed?” Luke shrugged. 

“How would I know?” Spencer huffed again in exasperation. 

“Trust me, there’s only so much a woman can fake.” 

“Oh jeez, I don’t wanna have this conversation with you.” Spencer shook his head. “But I don’t think I’m bad in bed. I at least thought she was enjoying herself. It wasn’t that. Don’t make me question my…performance.” 

“There’ll be other women, Reid.” Luke patted his shoulder again. 

Spencer sucked in a breath, his bottom lip pouting slightly. 

“I don’t want there to be other women.” He whispered. 

“Oh,” Luke looked a little taken aback. “You like her.” 

“Hmm.” Spencer answered noncommittally. 

“I wanted you to get laid, not fall in love. Jeez, Reid, are your dick and your heart somehow connected?” Luke shook his head. 

“That’s anatomically impossible.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “But thanks for the graphic image.” 

“Only you could sleep with a woman you barely know and fall for her. Your heart's too big, man.” 

“I do know her.” He spoke quietly, his eyes trailing off across the station as you entered with a tray of coffees in hand. 

He watched you move across the room, it was almost impossible to take his eyes off of you. Luke followed his gaze and when he saw you he groaned. 

“No, no you didn’t.” Luke slapped him on the back, forcing Spencer’s eyes back on him.

“Didn’t what?”

“Y/N?” Luke hissed. “She’s married!” 

“Would you keep your voice down!” Spencer scalded him. 

“So it’s true? Fuck, Reid, really?” 

“It was a momentary lapse in judgement, I agree.” Spencer sighed. “But I have been in love with her for well over a decade. An opportunity presented itself and I…I…oh man I fucked up.”

“No kidding.” Luke rubbed his chin. “I thought you were meant to be a genius?” 

“I’m a provable genius. But I’m still entitled to make mistakes every once in a while. Being a genius didn’t stop me from getting addicted to dilaudid, it didn’t stop me from going to Mexico and falling into Cat’s trap. And it didn’t stop me from sleeping with a married woman.” Spencer raked his fingers through his hair. 

“When you put it like that, I’m not sure I see an upside to having a high IQ.” 

“It’s incredibly frustrating, trust me. You still make dumb mistakes, and you have the added bonus of having to analyse them in great detail after.” 

“I’ll stick to living in ignorance.” Luke nodded just as a set of footsteps approached. 

They looked over just as a head of dark hair was heading their way. 

“Are you two ladies gonna stand around all day braiding each other's hair or you gonna help us catch an unsub?” Emily spoke, mildly frustrated, before she was leaving as quickly as she arrived. 

“Ladies?” Luke muttered.

“Hair braiding?” Spencer subconsciously touched his locks. 

“What is it about this town that is putting everyone in a bad mood?” Luke clucked. 

Spencer simply sighed and started following in Emily’s footsteps before his Unit Chief could get any more annoyed. 

***

The jet was eerily silent on its trip back to Quantico the following day. It was late and everyone was asleep, mostly everyone. 

From his position curled up on the couch he could see you down the back of the aircraft, staring out the window as you soared through the clouds.

Realistically, Spencer knew to leave you alone. But just knowing something didn’t mean he agreed with it. 

He couldn’t stay away no matter how he tried and eventually after fighting it for over half the flight, he swung his legs off the couch and stood up. 

He smoothed out his shirt which the top few buttons were now undone on, his tie long ago removed. He quietly padded down the small aisle in his mismatched socks, careful not to wake the rest of his team members although at a glance they mostly all wore headphones or earplugs. 

You didn’t look away from the window but he noticed the slight tensing in your shoulders as he got close. You still didn’t look at him when he sat opposite you, half wondering if you stayed perfectly still if he might leave you alone. 

You had no such luck. 

“Uh, hi.” He whispered quietly. 

You swallowed and tore your eyes off of the window and looked at him. You didn’t speak, simply folded your arms over your chest. 

“Is this just how things are gonna be between us now?” He huffed a little, barely able to contain his frustration. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Your voice was croaky. 

“Yes, you do.” He shook his head. “You’ve hardly spoken to me since…since…”

“Please don’t say it.” You sighed. 

“The thought of what we did is so disgusting to you, you can’t say it out loud?” His eyebrows furrowed heavily at you.

“I’m married, Spencer.” You hissed. “It shouldn’t have happened and that’s all there is to say. I thought you would know better than to…do what we did.” 

“Oh I’m to blame?” He looked incredulous. “You’re the one with the husband, Y/N. I’m very much single. I didn’t cheat on anyone.” 

“Stop it.” You spat. “Just stop it.” 

“I don’t know why you’re pretending it didn’t mean anything.” 

“I’m not pretending.” You scoffed. 

“So it wasn’t about me? You’d have cheated on your husband with anyone, is that what you’re saying?” He glared at you angrily.  

“I’m not talking about this.” You shook your head, turning your attention back out of the window. 

“Well I am. And if you don’t wanna talk you can listen.” He leaned forward on the little table separating you. “I know you and I know you wouldn’t have done that with just anyone. I think maybe you feel something for me and you don’t want to admit it because of Jared and your kids. I get it, I do. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though. And now it looks like I’m going to lose my best friend because you can’t even look me in the eye anymore. 

You know how I feel about you. We’ve never talked about it but you know, you always have. So if it was just about sex you could have chosen anyone. But you didn’t, you came to me. And to be honest I think that’s pretty cruel of you to use me that way when you know exactly how I feel about you.” 

“Are you done?” You looked back at him with a scowl. “Because I am done listening. I’m sorry if it meant more to you than it did to me, ok? I’m sorry if I hurt you or whatever. But I have too much going on in my life as it is. The last thing I need is an invite to the Spencer Reid pity party. Can you go and be all brooding somewhere else?” 

You saw the hurt wash over his face at your vicious words. For a fraction of a second you felt bad but honestly you couldn’t let yourself be swallowed into his sad, doe eyes. Maybe he needed a harsh dose of reality every now and again. 

“Goddamnit,” he hissed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry that you’ve found yourself trapped in a marriage where your husband treats you like a freaking punching bag, but not everyone is like that. There are people out there who might actually love you if you gave them half a chance.” 

After all this time? Always. 

“Leave me alone.” You spat. “Leave me alone, indefinitely.” 

You turned away from him again, signifying the conversation was over. He might have tried to talk some sense into you but a few moments later the pilot was announcing their imminent arrival in Virginia. 

As the rest of the team stirred back into consciousness, Spencer got to his feet and stormed away, not caring if the others sensed his anger. 

@andiebeaword @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @frostandflamesfanfic @pixiehex1985 @release-your-sweets @mavel-fan-for-life @megan-mars @hales-17 @onlyspence @werewolfbansheelove @gubsi @vivian-555 @meowiemari

[quietlyimplode]

ignite your bones

After the fall of General Dreykov, and the remnants of the Red Room still at large, Natasha first year at SHIELD is anything but healing. Labeled a traitor and a turncoat, Natasha tries to find her footing in a strange new world.

Whumptober 2024: Day 29 - fatigue

Warnings: none I can think of

Word Count: 1.3k (gif not mine)

Summary: everyone is tired

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist.

.

Maria yawns.

Knocking on Clint’s door, it feels like déjà vu.

To her surprise he’s awake and comes to the door quickly.

“You look like shit,” she tells him bluntly.

“Yeah,” he replies.

She follows him in, worried.

“What happened?” she asks, as he offers her coffee.

She nods, and he makes another pot, standing looking at her with sunken eyes. His movements are clumsy, unlike him.

“You’re not sleeping,” she assumes.

“Nightmares,” he confirms.

Maria nods, her worry deepening.

“Are they getting bad again?”

Clint doesn’t answer, occupying himself with making her a drink.

“Yeah.”

He hands it over and she sips it, not commenting on the strong taste and bitterness of it.

“Stay here,” she offers, “sleep or rest if you can.”

He shakes his head.

“I can’t… I got…”

“Natasha, I know, I can go?”

She can tell how truly shit he feels, because he considers it before refusing again.

Maria sighs.

“How about half a day? I’ll go on to make sure she’s okay, and then you can come in and finish the day?”

Clint looks around, eying the couch.

“I’ll knock you out myself,” she offers.

Clint gives her a half smile.

“Thanks.. I just… there’s these dreams and sometimes they just stick.”

She frowns.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

A look of fear passes across Clint’s face, an honest moment, before the relaxed expression returns.

“No, not really,” he answers.

Maria sips her coffee, wincing this time.

“Anything I should know, before I see her?”

Clint looks uncertain.

“She has a letter for Olivia. She wants to get it to her. She said anyone could read it, but I think it’s private. She also went into archives yesterday. I don’t know what information she found, but I don’t think it was what she wanted.”

Maria nods.

“I.. Uhh.. I don’t think she’s sleeping either.”

Maria finishes her coffee and stands.

“Thanks for coming over.”

Maria grabs her keys.

“You’re on the way.”

They both knew it was a lie.

“Just… try and get some sleep okay?”

Clint nods, running his hand over his face and sighing heavily.

“And eat and drink something.”

She stops at the door, “something that’s not coffee.”

He stands with her and pushes air out of his lips in a huff.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He watches her leave, closing the door gently behind her.

.

Maria thinks now her offering of donuts and coffee for Natasha seems stupid, as she knocks at the door.

She berates herself, moving from foot to foot.

The door opens and she notes the look of surprise on Natasha’s face.

“Your face is looking better,” she tells her, noticing the raw healing skin on her forehead.

“I did a good job.”

The small half smile that Natasha gives is short lived, but returns when she holds up the coffee and donuts.

“Where’s Clint?”

Natasha always seems so even, her voice never raising, but Maria thinks she can tell when she’s worried; her voice goes quieter.

Maria wonders if she knows the tell.

The question is quiet, reserved in its essence, but to Maria it betrays the worry.

“He’s fine. He’s coming in later.”

Natasha opens the door wider, allowing Maria inside.

The space is perfect and neat, like no one lives there. Natasha could leave and they wouldn’t know this had been her room.

She wonders where all the little things are that Clint had given to her.

The small knick knacks are likely hiding somewhere, just not in plain sight.

“Do you want to spar later?” Maria asks on a whim.

Natasha’s face lights up.

“Yes,” she replies, and then, maybe because she replied quickly, “I’d like that.”

Natasha chews on the offered donut, and sips at the piping hot black coffee, and not for the first time, as they sit in silence, Maria wonders if they could be friends.

.

The first hit is tentative.

Maria stops and looks at her.

“What the fuck was that? If you’re going to hit me, just do it.”

Natasha nods.

“Are you sure?”

Maria rolls her eyes.

“Do you need a safe word?”

Natasha's question makes her bark out a laugh.

“You’ve been sparring with Clint?”

Natasha nods.

“His safe word is yellow.”

Maria laughs again.

“Sure, yellow. Three rounds, 3 minutes. That work for you?”

Natasha nods.

They start again.

This time, the punch comes straight, Maria moves to the left and dances back.

It’s clear that Natasha has been trained. In what martial arts? She’s not sure. It seems to be a combination of many, and the integration of all.

She throws a kick, and feels her legs being swept underneath her, falling she grabs onto Natasha, almost climbing her and pulling her down with her.

It almost works.

Natasha pushes back and allows Maria to stand.

They circle each other.

Throw in a series of jabs and punches, hooks and kicks to the body and head, the timer seems to be at a stand still even as the seconds count down.

Maria feels herself become tired.

She’s been slacking.

Her early morning run had only been 3 miles instead of her usual 8, and her weights program was sorely neglected.

Angry at her own poor time management, she makes it to the final round of 3 minutes and groans.

Natasha looks around, finding the drink fountain and moves to go fill two paper cups.

They sip the water in silence, both leaving a puddle of sweat underneath them.

“I’m done,” she announces, laying back, letting her chest heave. Natasha may have kicked her ass, but she feels it wasn’t woeful on her part either.

“That was enough.”

Natasha nods, eyes watching, her breath under control much sooner than Maria’s.

“Thanks,” she replies. “I’ve earned some sleep.”

Maria closes her eyes, choosing to ignore Natasha’s statement and the implication that rest is only earned, and not just a part of the human experience.

“Yeah,” she replies, “me too.”

.

Fury rubs his eyes, removing his patch and flipping it up onto his head.

“What do you think?”

Coulson leans back in the chair, glancing at the proposal, he doesn’t answer, still reading through the document.

“I think I’m tired,” he replies, passing the papers back over and shrugging.

“I think it’s a good idea. You can’t do anything else. You can’t kill her after all she’s done, you can’t send her away, and this might be the only way she’s accepted.”

Fury staples the paper, the large confidential in red over the top of it.

“Well, there’s a long way to go before that happens, but the small strike teams have worked for us before.”

Coulson nods.

Fury stands and heads to his filing cabinet, putting the papers inside.

“I’ll take it to the WSC tomorrow, they’ll agree.”

He holds up a bottle of brown liquid and offers it across to Coulson.

Nodding, Coulson produces two glasses from the cabinet behind him.

“I think she’ll do some good. I mean look at all she’s inadvertently accomplished being locked up? She’s been here just over six months and already we’re better off.”

Fury pours the alcohol.

“Do you think Barton knew what he was getting into?”

Coulson shakes his head.

“Did you?”

Fury replaces his eye patch, his look of intensity returning as he sinks further into his chair.

“No. I don’t suppose I did.”

“I think he’ll be okay. There are worse things than having a widow as a partner.”

“What about Maria?” Coulson asks.

“What about her?”

“She’s too good an agent to not be part of a team.”

Fury considers the words, considers Maria and how efficiently she’s managed everything, from reporting to debrief to mission planning.

The intelligence involved in the way she handled herself.

“You’re going to need someone by your side too,” Coulson reminds him.

Fury sips his drink, the long drag helping him think.

“Yes, I suppose I will.”

The two men sit in the office, the world dark as they continue to talk into the night, though fatigue drags at both of them.

.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Beauty and the Beast’s Last Theater - Keith Howell (part 3/4)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

—Hey, Emma. Did you hear?

—There’s this interesting plant that makes an appearance at night in the conservatory.

I’ve never heard of a story like this from wicked Keith, and my curiosity led me to the conservatory…

(Huh…Prince Keith?)

Someone I didn’t expect to see was sitting in a chair.

If I listened closely, I could hear a very faint voice.

(I shouldn’t bother him since he’s in the middle of working, but…)

The image I had of a plant was replaced by Prince Keith and I slowly approached his broad back.

Keith: ‘Are you really going away?’

(Huh…a line from the play?)

(Has Prince Keith been…)

I could see the closed script sitting on the table.

I found myself smiling when I realized what that meant.

Keith: ‘Wait. Before we part ways, let me say one thing.’

Emma: ‘I can’t. If I hear you out, then this parting will hurt me more than ever.’

Keith: ?! Huh, wah…Emma?!

(‘Huh, what, why’?)

The moment Prince Keith caught sight of me, he leapt to his feet.

His flushed cheeks and flailing hands conflicted with his imposing figure, which never failed to make him look adorable. 

Keith: Um, well, the script was written with a lot of respect to the original work, and it’s amazing, um… Right, I just wanted to read it out loud…!

Emma: I’m the same. Sometimes I find myself reading it out loud too.

Keith: You too? I-I’m glad we’re the same…haha. …

Silence.

Prince Keith’s eyes wandered, either out of embarrassment or awkwardness. He then covered his mouth with a fist.

Keith: Sorry…Um, what I just said is true, but…in a different way. …I was practicing.

(I wonder if he’ll let me listen)

Emma: Is it because…you want to be on stage?

Prince Keith shook his head and hurriedly opened his mouth.

Keith: Ah, but I would like to perform on stage with you. I…really do. Since I did accept Sonia’s request, I should play the role.

Prince Keith smiled apologetically.

Keith: But then I thought back to the read-through during the tea party and remembered how hopelessly awkward I was. That’s why I asked him to do it.

I recalled the performance I heard just then.

He must have practiced a lot by himself because there was nothing wrong about it.

However, there was still a sense of awkwardness that wasn’t present with wicked Prince Keith.

It’s not something that would impact the performance, but it was something he couldn’t allow.

(He really wants to be the one to play the role)

(But more importantly, Prince Keith’s the type to focus on success,)

(He doesn’t want to ruin the performance with his own whims)

If he asked wicked Prince Keith for help, then he wouldn’t need to practice for the performance.

Still, practicing by himself in secret could mean he wanted to go through with it, even if he didn’t expect anything from it.

(An honest and sincere way of thinking from Prince Keith like always)

Emma: Thank you. Hearing your feelings has made me even more motivated. Let’s give our best on the performance “together” until the very end.

Keith: Emma… …Yeah. Thanks.

He gave another apologetic smile, but this time, he seemed to have brightened up.

(I feel like I can give it my all on stage now)

Keith: By the way, why did you come to the conservatory tonight?

Emma: I came to see an interesting plant that only appears at night.

Keith: An interesting plant…Ah, is that what he said? That’s something I’ve never heard of before, so I’d like to see it for myself.

(Even nice Keith doesn’t know?)

Emma: Perhaps he wasn’t literally talking about a “plant”.

Keith: … Ah…Is the interesting plant supposed to be me?

Emma: That’s what I’m thinking.

(I’m thinking he told that cute little lie to let me know that Prince Keith was secretly practicing in the conservatory)

Seeing how wicked Keith cared warmed my heart more.

(We can’t act together on stage, but…)

Emma: Prince Keith, can I practice with you?

Keith: Of course. I’ll have him—  

Emma: I want to practice with nice Prince Keith.

(I want to do my best with the both of them)

Emma: You remember your lines and actions, don’t you?

The closed script on the table was an indicator.

I stopped his hand and he gave a shy, awkward nod.

Keith: You see through everything. I’m happy about that too, because I really want to practice with you. If I make some mistake or am a nuisance, feel free to slap my cheeks. You can even punch me in the stomach—

Emma: I won’t be doing that.

Keith: Is that so…

Emma: Ah, but how about whoever makes a mistake has to plan our next date!

Keith: That’s…well, a punishment that’ll make you want to mess up on purpose.

Emma: Hehe, I thought the same.

With the plants watching over us, I continued practicing with the Keiths day after day…

--

And then came the day of the performance—

Standing in the wings of the stage, I could see that the theater was filled with people. 

(It’s starting)

The excitement made me freeze, and I immediately clutched my robe.

At that moment, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

(That tapping…it won’t trick me again)

Emma: …!

I turned in the direction opposite to the tapping and felt something warm on my lips.

Before me was Prince Keith, smiling triumphantly at a successful prank. My cheeks heated up.

Alter!Keith: Haha, tricked you again.

Emma: T-that was sneaky…What if someone saw us?

Alter!Keith: Does it matter? We’re engaged anyway, so there’s nothing wrong with showing how close we are.

Emma: That’s true…

Alter!Keith: Want help getting used to it?

Emma: No…no kissing.

Alter!Keith: My fiancee’s so shy and cute.

He chuckled and laced his fingers with mine.

The warmth from his large hands gave me some peace of mind and my breathing started to calm down.

(...So that’s why he came over)

I squeezed his hand in thanks.

--

The curtain rose.

The story began with silence.

Emma: ‘This is…’

(Alter)Keith: ‘A forest where I can let go of my title and just be myself.’ ‘I love being by this tree in particular, so much that I never want to leave.’

Emma: ‘That’s why you’re always looking back…’ ‘That makes me happy.’

(Alter)Keith: ‘Happy? Is this your favorite place too?’

(I feel light. I’m enjoying myself)

(I’m feeling more comfortable in this role)

It was like all practice turned anxiety into confidence.

The prince and the tree spirit met, and the performance continued with the telling of their frustrating interactions that slowly brought them closer, and of their differences in race, war, and various other events caused them to be at odds with each other.

And then the story reached its end. 

The love that should’ve been given up on grew deeper. The spirit suggests they part ways, hiding the grief and remorse within her aching heart. 

(Alter)Keith: ‘Wait. Before we part ways, let me say one thing.’

Emma: ‘I can’t. If I hear you out, then this parting will hurt me more than ever.’

The prince held the spirit back, and finally came the scene where he’d convey his feelings.

The audience was at the edge of their seats as they waited for how the two would end…

Alter!Keith: …

(...?)

A smile suddenly formed on Prince Keith’s face.

It was one from wicked Keith himself, rather than the character.

Alter!Keith: Wouldn’t it be more fun to ad-lib?

(What does he mean?)

I blinked in confusion.

Keith and Emma: Huh…

The one in front was nice Prince Keith, not wicked Prince Keith.

(No way…)

(...Here?!)

[nerdraging4point0]

The Scorpion and the Scales // Chapter Five // PolyAU

Tropes and Tags: MF, MFM, MFMM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed musicians, polyverse, friends to lovers.

Content warning: 18+ only MDNI, PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), threesomes, light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, partner sharing, jealousy, angst.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Active taglist: @ladyveronikawrites @tearfallpixie @beaker1636 @circle-with-me @synthetic-wasp-570 @itsjustemily @thesazzb @vinyardmauro @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @dominuslunae @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @letmeadoreyoux @starsomens @artificialbreezy @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken @missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @thatchickwiththecamera @mysticdoodlez @chels3a-smile @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @roley-poley-foley @ravieisunhinged @dethronetheveil @to-be-written @somewhere-diamond @somebodyels3 @sacredthefran @th0ughts-pr4yers @bloody-delusion-expert

The week with Noah had flown by in a blur of pier dates, shopping sprees, late night movies, and even later nights between the sheets. It felt like less than seven days. He'd asked if I could make it to the rock festival kicking off the fall tour next week. I'd nearly forgotten about it. I told him I wasn't sure about my work schedule, which wasn't a total lie.

Back at the office grind, the magical week with Noah seemed like a distant memory. I'd completely forgotten to check if I could get the time off for the festival. I was just clocking out for lunch when my phone buzzed with a new text. It was from Chris. He'd sent a screenshot of a ticket QR code for the festival. Underneath was a simple message that sent my anxiety spiraling:

See you there.

Oh god, this could be a disaster. I feel my heart start to race as I realize Noah and Chris will both be at the festival. How can I face them together? Noah will be crushed if he finds out Chris was the one I slept with right before we started dating. Am I even dating him? He never asked, just seemed implied. He'll think I'm just some groupie, trying to hook up with every metal singer I can.

My hands are shaking and my stomach is in knots.

I texted him back in a panic, scrambling to come up with an excuse to get out of going to the festival. I told him I wasn't sure I could afford the ticket now, what with everything else going on. It was a lame excuse, I know, but I was desperate.

"You're VIP, don't argue with me. I'll see you there," he wrote back firmly. He wasn't having any of my hedging. I could tell he really wanted me to be there, but I just couldn't do it.

The festival is tomorrow. How am I supposed to come clean before then? Is it even worth going at this point? I should just tell them now rather than drop this bomb when I see them there. My mind is spinning, trying to justify delaying this conversation.

I found myself wandering aimlessly down the street to the nearby park, escaping from my office for a few minutes. Sitting on the cool metal bench, I pulled up their numbers and started a group text. It's easier to explain things to both of them at once rather than dragging it out one-on-one. If I tried to type this all out twice, I know I wouldn't be able to do it.

"Boys," I began, my hands shaking, "I'm sorry I haven't been fully honest with you two. But to be fair, neither of you clearly defined what we were to each other. I don't know what it means that I've been with you both—are we just friends with benefits? Was I dating one of you? Both of you? I'm so confused. Before I see you at the festival tomorrow and this all blows up, we need to get this out in the open."

My heart pounds as I hit send on the nonsensical text. The minutes of my lunch break tick by, yet my phone remains silent. I stare at the screen, willing a response to appear. Nothing.

Now I'm back at my desk, panic swirling in my gut. What was I thinking, sending something so random? The silence is deafening.

I can barely focus, rereading our thread over and over. My pulse races and my throat tightens. What if I scared them away for good this time? Or made them think I'm unhinged?

Tapping away at my phone as we taxi down the runway, I feel a knot in my stomach when her name and an unknown number pops up on the screen. I don't recognize the number, but the area code says Los Angeles. Reading the cryptic words over and over, I realize I have no clue what to say. Glancing at Rick dozing peacefully in the seat beside me, I envy his relaxed flying mentality. Airplanes make me uneasy, though it's not really a fear thing. I just don't like the lack of control when we're thousands of feet in the air. Rick calls it my need for control.

The second we landed in Denver, my stomach twisted. My mind raced as we made our way through the terminal. Should I try to see her while we're here? Could I somehow explain everything face-to-face? That might be better than a text or call. Oh man, what would I even say? "Hey, remember that passionate night we shared? Well, I'm still crazy about you..." Yeah, no way. I'm in way over my head here.

My fingers fly across the keyboard, responding before my brain has time to catch up. "Whoa, wait, let's rewind. First things first - who else are we talking about here?"

It's barely past four, and I'm sure she's already off work - she always leaves early on Thursdays. I watch the three dots bouncing at the bottom of my screen, eyes glued, wondering how complicated this story she's typing could possibly be.

Her text pings through, and it takes me a solid minute to parse it all.

"Okay, Cliff Notes version: I met you both at your concerts. Noah - Chris and I hooked up after his show and have been flirty since. Chris - I visited Noah in LA and we obviously got physical, if you know what I mean."

I read her words again, slowly, trying to fit the pieces together in my head. I've never been great at puzzling things out on my own - I do better thinking out loud.

"Noah...concert...Los Angeles," I murmur, voice echoing my thoughts.

"What about Bad Omens?" Vin interjects, tuning into my words.

"Huh?" I reply, confused.

"Noah, LA, concert - Bad Omens, right?" As he says it, the lightbulb clicks on. Noah Sebastian. Noah Sebastian!

My fingers are flying across the keyboard again. “Noah, like Bad Omens, Noah Sebastian. That Noah?” 

The unknown number is responding. 

“Yeah, and who are you?” another three dots and he’s texting again. 

“Chris Cerulli.” I type out my name as if it matters. I never use my last name, but i’ve met Noah before, we sat next to each other in several interviews on shiprocked. 

“Motionless? Oh shit.” 

I'm at a loss for words. Bad Omens is set to play at the festival the day after tomorrow, so there's no question Noah's already here in Denver or he's about to fly in. I'm trying to compartmentalize the whirlwind in my mind, desperate to make some sense of it all. I've hooked up with girls without attachments or commitments before - I'm sure Noah's done the same. To be honest, I hadn't considered anything too serious between us. I was enjoying the casual vibe we had going on. But now, knowing she might be with someone else...could I really do that? Could Noah? I don't know.

I type away to the chat, taking a breath and holding it as I see my words plastered out to the void. “But you’re still coming to the festival, right?”

I slump down in this too-small chair at LAX, ball cap pulled low and sunglasses hiding my eyes. I'm trying to disappear - don't want anyone recognizing me. I'm also trying to hide the fact that I'm royally pissed off. Can't put my finger on who I'm mad at though. Her, for hooking up with him?  Myself, for just assuming we were exclusive without ever saying it outright? Both seem likely. I know I can't hold her past against her, but damn, running into her ex on set tomorrow is gonna sting like hell. This waiting around, with nowhere to put all this frustrated energy - it's killing me. I need to hit the gym or something, get this poison out of my system. 

They announce our flight is boarding, I rise from my seat and keep my eyes averted, anxiously spinning my phone between my hands before briefly presenting the digital boarding pass on the screen to the attendant. She offers me a polite smile, but I'm too preoccupied to return the gesture. When we locate our assigned seats, I take the window spot, absentmindedly watching the ground crew below load the luggage onto the rotating conveyor belt leading to the plane's cargo hold. I spot my battered old suitcase passing by, along with the band's instruments and the rest of our haphazardly packed carry-ons. We could have easily driven to our destination, but Matt insisted that flying would be faster.

As I sit here on this plane, my mind races with thoughts of her. How can I possibly end things when every fiber of my being screams to stay? We aren’'t exclusive, I could walk away without a glance back. But she's burrowed deep under my skin, and try as I might, I can't shake her. Never before have I wavered when it came to matters of the heart. Cross me and you're gone. Disappoint me and I won't think twice. I trust my gut and never look back. But she's different. With her, I'm plagued by indecision and self-doubt. I'm a Scorpio to the core - intense, all or nothing. Once I've crossed that bridge, I burn it down in flames. But with her, I find myself lingering on the edges, unable to take that final step. She's awakened something in me I don't recognize. A vulnerability I've never known. A connection I'm not ready to sever.

My phone is in airplane mode but I can't help staring at the texts on the screen, as if somehow they will change my mind or provide the answers I'm desperately seeking. I know it's fruitless, just words on a muted screen, but I read them over and over, having already committed every word to memory. With a sigh, I finally close out and sit back, trying in vain to relax in the cramped airline seat before I inevitably reopen our conversation.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Captain Manning," the pilot's voice stirs the sleepy passengers as we touch down in Denver. "On behalf of all our staff and United Airlines, we welcome you to Denver, Colorado." The cabin erupts in a shuffle of activity as passengers hastily gather their belongings, eager to deplane. I hesitantly switch off airplane mode and wait as my phone explodes with a barrage of emails and notifications before the message I've been anxiously anticipating finally comes through. My heart pounds as I open it, knowing those few words will determine my mood and mindset when I step off this plane into the next phase of my journey, for better or worse.

Motionless' text message lands in my inbox and I hesitate before opening it, wary that its contents might ignite an argument or stir unwelcome pity - both options I'd rather avoid. His text is brief and to the point: "Can you meet me at the Embassy tonight?" I glance across the aisle at Matt and Folio, already busily packing their bags, eager to exit the plane and head straight for our rooms at the Mariott.

I know I should wait until I'm settled at the hotel before responding, take time to think it over and discuss meeting up with Matt first. But instead, on impulse, I type back a quick "yes" before I can overthink or talk myself out of it.

Motionless and I have a complicated history of passion for our music and some unspoken rivalry between our fans, i’m not really sure where that rumor got started. While part of me wants to avoid potential conflict, another part is drawn like a moth to flame, curious to see what might transpire when we come together again. I click send on the text, sealing my fate. Now all that's left is to wait and wonder what the night will bring.

Stepping out of the shower, I'm barely dry before my phone pings. Noah's been radio silent all day while Chris has come out of left field and downright. Their thoughts have been impossible to read. My screen lights up with a text - they've agreed to meet at the Embassy downtown where Chris is staying.

I get dressed with a heavy heart, bracing myself for the inevitable end. This is it, I just know it. I'm not ready to say goodbye, but ripping off the bandaid is better than prolonging the pain. It's like being a kid dragged to the dentist for a tooth extraction before the promised ice cream cone after. You want the sweet reward, just not the agony that comes before it. Tonight it will all be over, and although my heart is not prepared, my head knows it's time to face the music.

I drive in silence, my nerves making the quiet even more deafening. Parking with the valet, I step inside the lavish hotel lobby on shaky legs. The elevators require a keycard for the upper floors, so I awkwardly text that I've arrived. Neither comes down to get me, instead sending a hotel employee to escort me up. The ride is excruciating - me avoiding eye contact while the man stands too close. I knock on their door, praying no one else is in the hall to witness my humiliation.

My heart pounds as Chris answers the door, his blonde hair cascading past his ears, dressed casually in a gray hoodie and adidas pants. I catch a glimpse of Noah sitting on the couch, elbows on knees, hands clasped together, staring at me intently. My stomach lurches and I want to bolt - I can't go through with this.

Chris gently grasps my arm just above the elbow, guiding me into the hotel room. He leads me to the end of the couch, sitting me down a few spaces from Noah. I can't bring myself to look at either of them, consumed by shame, the tension suffocating.

Chris moves the coffee table out a bit before perching on it directly in front of me, just an arm's length from Noah. We sit in excruciating silence before I finally blurt out, "There isn't much else to say."

“I think there is a lot to say,” Chris said “I mean i’ve been bouncing around with it a lot, i’m on the fence, but I am cool to keep things casual between us.” I blinked at Chris, trying to hide my disappointment as he rambled on with that wishy-washy response. His leg bounced nervously and he kept fidgeting with his hands, like he couldn't get comfortable saying it out loud. I knew he wasn't totally sold on the whole "casual" thing between us, but I wasn't about to beg him for more of a commitment.

My eyes slid over to Noah, who was intently focused on his own fingers as he twisted them around each other. "And you?" I asked hesitantly, bracing myself for a similar non-committal answer.

"Casual. Casual works," he mumbled, still not looking up. I wanted to scream in frustration. Chris could at least pretend to be enthusiastic about keeping things casual, but Noah sounded about as interested in me as a lump of clay. This whole conversation was not going how I had hoped at all. I shifted awkwardly, already planning my escape from this uncomfortable situation.

My blood boils as the words spew from my mouth. "Could someone please offer me something other than half-assed phrases they think I wanna hear?" Chris's mouth gapes open and closed like a fish out of water, unable to form a response. Noah slaps his knees and stands abruptly from the couch.

"We're both going on tour, that's two maybe three months we'll be busy traveling. Let's just text, keep in touch as friends. If we want a hookup we'll call," he says matter-of-factly.

I see red. "Do I get the same grace? If you want to fuck me, a phone call is all it takes? What about me, do I just have to call? I won't have this one-sided bullshit." My heart hammers in my chest as I stare them down, daring them to argue. The tension in the room is palpable and I'm ready to explode. 

My eyes darted between Chris and Noah as the tension in the room became palpable. Chris's calm demeanor never wavered as he promised, "Whatever you want, I'm there. Or I'll fly to you. The minute I know it won't work, I'll tell you - I'll be completely transparent."

I couldn't resist embracing him in gratitude, whispering a heartfelt "thank you" in his ear. As I stepped back, I noticed Noah staring at the floor, hands buried in his hoodie pockets. He slowly lifted his gaze to meet mine, jaw twitching, dark eyes peering at me through long lashes.

"And you?" I asked gently.

I hold my breath as he moves toward me, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. In an instant his hands are at my waist, yanking me against his hard body as his mouth claims mine in a searing kiss that steals my ability to think. I cling to him, my fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with everything I have. I want this man, all of him, and I desperately hope this isn't the end for us.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hello I’m sorta new to ur blog and I would like to request an emergency request!

I don’t really know how it works so if there’s something I didn’t or did do wrong please ignore this!

I’ve recently caught myself having suicidal thoughts since I really do not like the pain of losing a loved one and think it’s better dying then ever experiencing it again. It sounds selfish but I can’t help thinking about it. It’s weird since for me the feeling of losing someone is way more strong then I think it is for other people and I know people around me will feel sad about me being gone but I tell myself what’s the point if I’m dead anyway. It’s a very selfish and selfless way of thinking and I know that, if you do not feel comfortable with this. Again please ignore this,

But how would law and sanji react to their fem! Partner having these thoughts?

Thank you and have an amazing day:)

First things first, let me say that my heart goes out to you. Second thing, please, please, please go see someone and get some help. I know it's probably hard or perhaps not what you want to hear, but please.

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, emergency request, mentions of death

Word Count: 1405

     They were gone. How could they be gone? How could they be… how could they be dead? Feeling the tears run down your cheeks, you curled your fingers in your hair. Part of you knew that death was part of the job. It came with being a pirate, but to be honest, you’d never actually, truly thought about it. Something that was in the back of your mind but never something that was really real. You just wanted to die; better to die than to experience somebody else dying, right? Better to end things than to have to experience this pain again. Worse yet, watching everyone else go about doing things, it felt like you were the only one mourning. Did they not feel their death? They looked sad, but how could they just continue to go about their lives? Continue to work like they were? You didn’t even hear the door open, didn’t notice your partner looking at you with such sympathy and sadness. He’d noticed your change in mood, in attitude, and it had worried him a little, but now seeing you curled up on the floor, he was more worried than ever. 

Sanji

     The blond walked over to you, sitting down next to you before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you out of your thoughts as he carefully maneuvered you into his lap.

     “I’ve been looking for you, ma cherie. Why are you hiding such beauty away in here?” he asked softly, placing one hand on the back of your head, stroking your head as he pressed your head against his chest to listen to his heart. All you could do was shake your head as the tears turned into full sobs. His arms wrapped tighter around you, trying to make out your words through your bawling. Finally making out what you were saying caused his heart to break. You were in so much pain. He wouldn’t lie and say that he was unaffected, but seeing how hard it was hitting you, he wished that he was more affected so that you would be less affected; to take away your pain, even if it meant taking it on himself. It reminded him of when he lost his mother, the pain stabbing at his heart, bleeding his young heart dry. 

     His lips met your forehead as he cradled you close, cooing gently as he tried to comfort you. Admittedly, he felt a little bad that he hadn’t noticed the severity sooner, but he also thanked the heavens that he noticed it when he did; noticed it before things went too far. 

     “It’ll be okay, mon amour, I’m here, I’ll stay here by your side and help you get through this, okay? I know it hurts, but please, please don’t… don’t do… that. I couldn’t live without you, you’re my entire world. Whatever you need, I’ll get it for you, just… please, I… don’t do that. And remember, I’m always here. You can come to me anytime, whatever you need. Please just… stay, for me?” he pleaded, tears starting to make their way down his cheeks. He didn’t want to make you feel worse, but it hurt him so much that you were even considering such a thing. You were his everything, his light, his love, he couldn’t bear to be without you. 

     “Please, please, please… don’t… don’t do anything, don’t leave me. You can call me selfish if you want, let me be the selfish one and ask you to stay. You… you’re too sweet, too kind, to be selfish like that. So let me be the selfish one and ask you to never leave my side.” He pleaded, nuzzling his face into the top of your head. Clutching his shirt as if your life depended on it, you could only nod, still sobbing. He didn’t know how long he stayed with you like that, only that Luffy had started screaming for him about lunch. Glancing down at you, his brow furrowed. You’d cried yourself to sleep. Carefully picking you up, he moved you to his bed before storming out to his captain.

     “Luffy! Shut up! Y/n is sleeping and I don’t need you waking her up. I swear, if you wake her up, I’ll throw all the meat on the Sunny over the side of the ship!” Sanji threatened, making the boy’s eyes widen and nod. Sighing, he paused, “She’s taking this hard, just… let me take care of her for a little while. Just until she’s better.” Sanji requested, watching as his captain nodded again. He’d be there for you as long as you needed, anything to make sure you were okay.

Law

     Being a doctor and being your partner always, always made things hard for him. When did he draw the line? Where did he stop and go “I’m a doctor and you need to take these meds”? At what point should he stop holding you close and instead get you a therapist? Standing here in front of you, he pondered this even more. Should he approach you as your partner or your doctor? Doctor or partner, doctor or partner? Taking a deep breath, he picked you up, drawing a surprised gasp as he ‘shambles’ed you both to his room, laying down on his bed with you and holding you close.

     “If you needed to cry, you should have come to me.” Law said awkwardly, running his hand up and down your back, letting you cling to him. You were silent for a moment, not entirely sure what you should say. Finally you mumbled out what was wrong, the words muffled in his chest. His brow furrowed, his hand on your back halting for a moment. Doctor or partner, doctor or partner? 

     “You… I want… I want you to see someone about this… I need to know if you need to be medicated long term for depression.” he said after a minute. He was your partner, but he was also a doctor. This would be the best option for both sides. As a doctor, he wanted what was best for your health, as your partner, he wanted you to be okay. This would help you be okay… right? Laying there, the man grew nervous by your silence. Were you mad at him for suggesting it? Were you going to turn him down? Or worse, close yourself off? Finally, thankfully, you nodded. He was a doctor, he loved you, he’d know what was best for you, right? Sure, you wanted to die, but… but Law knew what to do, right? The man sighed in relief, his arms wrapping tighter around you, muttering quiet ‘thank you’s. Fuck, you’d scared him. He couldn’t lose you. He’d lost enough, he couldn’t lose you too, least of all to this, not like this. His family to the World Government, Cora-san to Doflamingo, he couldn’t lose you, not like that.

      He couldn’t help but relax ever so slightly, relieved that you listened. You’d be okay, you’d get help and you’d be okay. He’d keep a close eye on you and you’d be okay, he’d make sure of it. It would take a while, he knew it would take a while, but you would be okay. Okay, he didn’t actually know that for certain, but with as scared as he was, he needed to tell himself that, he needed that reassurance that you wouldn’t leave him. Just like you, he couldn’t experience that again. Too many times had he seen that, he couldn’t do it again. Cuddling you closer, he breathed in your scent, as if trying to memorize it, as if he was still going to lose you. It was only now that you realized how much he was trembling, the realization dawning on you. He couldn’t lose anyone else again, just like you, he’d rather die than experience that again. It made you wonder how he did it. How did he deal with the crushing weight of knowing he could lose his entire crew yet stay so strong? Maybe… Maybe you could find out; maybe, if you stayed, you could find out and you could be like him, be strong like him. Slowly, your breathing steadied, evening out as you dozed off. Almost as soon as you were asleep, Law was letting the others know to head for the nearest island. He’d get you help asap, because he really couldn’t lose you too.

[leesmustardgarden]

Meet-cute Through a Window (Though it Shouldn’t be Possible)

Warnings: mentions of canon typical violence, mentions of plague, a bit of swearing (couldn’t help myself, really), good ol puppet fear, I love P so much he’s so everything to me

P x (gn) reader

In the ruins of an ever rotting city, love is the last thing you’d expect to find. Rubble cannot foster the gentleness love necessitates, nor can it pretend to. In the ticking heart of a special puppet, filled with oil and ergo ever pulsing, love finds a way to fester. Pinocchio proves to be an exception to many things, and in loving you he has become an exception to the very notion that love cannot find purchase on the ledge of a burning society.

You meet through a window tucked away in the far corners of Krat, one you’d thought to be hidden from the puppet frenzy. It had been your honest mistake; a moment of forgetfulness wherein you peaked through the curtains and found yourself under his curious blue eyes. Crystalline and shining, they shocked you frozen to the spot. Any initial noise you might have let out dies with a weak flutter in your throat and you beg internally for this person to be a person and not a puppet.

A small whirr fills the air in the next second and your heart drops into your stomach. His expression is unchanging even in the face of your panic, but his shoulders sag (—holy shit is that a sword on his back?) in something like surrender and he tilts his head.

If you didn’t know any better, he might have just looked like a curious, yet apathetic boy peering at you through your window. With the sword on his back and the gentle whirr that rings in the silence, it’s hard not to know better. Never mind whatever the fuck is on his metal arm, you’re just ignoring that for the time being or you’re sure to go mental.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He whispers at the same time you say, “Please don’t kill me.”

If he’s surprised or hurt by what you say, he doesn’t (or probably can’t) show it. The words are muffled through the glass, but you’ve trained your ears to hear through the small opening at the bottom. He holds both palms open and says nothing else.

You… want to trust him, really. More than just the fact that his eyes are so pretty they shine like a fantastic lake straight out of a story book; or that his freckles paint him like an old, long dead painter might have painted the stars. You want to trust him in the open and gentle way he seems to offer up his hands and promise you more than what the rest of Krat has since the frenzy.

In the rubble of a burning city crashing in on itself, there is not a speck of gentleness to be spared. This— puppet has it in spades, and it draws you out of your panic just enough to pull the window open bit by bit. You do not break his gaze for a moment as you tug it up and open, and he is patient enough not to be the first to do so. Instead, he stretches a hand out to you and waits for your warm skin to meet the cold smooth synthetic surface of his own non-legion hand.

It would be just your luck if somehow puppets learned how to lie, too, but something tells you he means it wholly and honestly when he insists he will not hurt you. The whirring picks up gently, almost imperceptibly quicker, but you don’t pay it any mind. The edges of your instincts are sharp with distrust, but you lay your hand and life in the hands of this puppet and find yourself minding it less and less with each second.

A loaded pause passes— you stare down at your hands barely touching and he watches you with that same, frozen expression. You thickly swallow before you wrap your fingers around his hand and look up right into those beautiful blues.

“Would you… like to come in?”

Now, you don’t have much experience in how to fuel (feed?) an automaton; wasn’t your job before the frenzy and certainly hasn’t become since, but you could learn. It’s a silly thought to have, but you haven’t had a guest in god knows how long and a sharing a cup of tea sounds lovely (if puppets could even have tea). And — sure, maybe openly inviting the literal enemy of every human being in Krat into your house isn’t the smartest thing to do, but you can’t help it. More than just his pretty face, his gentle hand caresses yours so softly and the nod he gives is so warm that in the loneliness of having been the last sentient thing in the area, you couldn’t help but falter.

The world around you tastes of ash and rubble, but you meet someone who seems to bring about a breath of fresh air. His eyes are bright like ergo, and his hair fluffs like a black cloud. When he nods ever softly, something whirrs and clicks in the air. Your heart pounds against your ribs, and you don’t know if it’s really out of fear anymore.

Your world ended in a frenzied flurry of plague and massacre; it started again when you peaked through your window and met him.

[hannahssimblr]

Look, I am a romance fan. If there's one thing I die for it's a kissing scene.

I'm now close to finishing Jude's teenage years, and all of those magical kisses have been had. The next part of the story is a more adult section, when kisses don't really mean as much as they do when you are seventeen.

The teen years had five main kiss scenes, 3 of which are first kisses (which we love)

I'm proud of them all but am curious as readers which has been your favourite.

Vote, in the name of teen romance.

1

I kiss her. 

She is not surprised. She puts her hands in the right place, behind my neck and she tilts her head forty five degrees to the right and she lets me kiss her, her top lip, her bottom lip, and I try to move her with me and create rhythm and melody with our mouths and our bodies but her head is as stiff as the rest of her, and after a minute or two she releases the breath she’s been holding the entire time onto my cheek in a shuddering torrent and I realise that she doesn’t really know what she’s doing.

2

Alison, when she kisses me, feels holy. She’s like a shrine whose feet I weep at, begging for healing. She and I, this is how we are, this is the cycle we repeat, when I’m lonely, when she’s lonely and we find ourselves in purgatory. She doesn’t want more from me than this, than this shallow kissing, masquerading as something with depth, and sex, sometimes, when we can find a place to have it. I shouldn’t want more either. I don’t think I really do, not if I’m honest with myself, but sometimes I want to ask her why not. Maybe she’s confusing on purpose. Maybe she just likes to punish men. I think that it’d be fair enough if she did. We as a collective have mostly been cruel to her.

3

“Too late.”

“It’s not.”

I bend and kiss her before she can argue any more. Once, just once, but insistently, and I pull back hard with a smack expecting outrage on her face but I find only surprise, desire, and eyes that flick from my eyes to my mouth and back. I kiss her again, slow this time, deep, sure, as my hands hold her hips close to mine, willing for this kiss to wipe it all away, all of the years of hurt and anguish between us, and she lets me kiss her, and she kisses me back with hands that thread through my hair and lips that part so I can slide my tongue inside her mouth.

My knees knock against hers in our clumsy waltz towards her bed and we come down on it together, my body pressing against hers and my fingers finding the warm skin beneath her t-shirt. I draw back to look at her again, dark eyes and full lips and skin, as is mine, blushed amber with the first rays of dawn that stream through the window. 

4

The words she opens her mouth to say never come, because then my lips are on hers. 

I go slow at first. With caution, I explore, gently placing my hands on her neck, until she firmly grabs the front of my t-shirt, and I give in to it. I kiss her greedily. 

The urge comes to put my hands on her. Pulling her closer, my thumb caresses the curve of her waist beneath the hem of her top, her skin, the overwhelming feel of her beautiful, perfect body. This is what I imagined a hundred times.

She sighs involuntarily and my body burns. How stupid I am for this? Why did I do it here? Against this weird wall of plastic flowers, and not inside my tent, where I could lie her down, take my time slipping my hands inside her clothes to inspire more of these gorgeous, blissful sounds she is sighing against my mouth. 

5

Oh, she’s going to kiss me.

I know it seconds before she plucks up the courage, which gives me ample time to stop it, but I don’t. I don’t want to. She leans in, and I let her.

She goes in carefully, with her hand on my neck, and her head tilts to the side before she dots one little kiss on my lips. Two. As though experimenting, she turns the other way, three, four… 

I slide my hands around her waist and kiss her back.

Other kisses don’t make me feel the way I felt last night, as though she’s thrown a match on me and set my body alight, so I can justify doing it again by deciding I am too weak to resist it, that they day is long and that I deserve to surrender to something good.

Moving my hands to cradle her head, I glide my tongue along her bottom lip and she opens her mouth to me, soft and hot and slow, as my thumbs stroke her cheeks. I bite her bottom lip, and her top, as into my mouth, she moans against my gentle onslaught. The moment she makes that sound, I’m gone. 

[coleskingdom]

Your Revenge

Adam Cole x F Reader

18+ Minors DNI

@midwestmade29 @madhatterbri

It’d been a few weeks since that night with Cole. I’d gone home, showered, Adam contrary to his words didn’t leave a mark on my neck and swore to myself I wouldn’t tell Jay.. Not for fear of him leaving me but for what he’d do to Adam. There was an apprehensive when an unknown number would appear on my phone, I didn’t know if it’d be Adam. Things between Jay and I were not great but he had sometime off coming, the things that made him cranky like his creative was fixed soon he’d be back to normal.

Jay left out a day earlier than normal, it wasn’t a big deal, plans change and I didn’t ask him any questions about the schedule shift. I ordered take out and settled in on the couch to watch Dynamite, Jays music hit and he comes out and does his normal entrance when he takes off his jacket, there are scratches on his back that weren’t there when he left. Trying to be rational I pause the screen and try to take a closer look maybe my guilty conscience is showing me things that aren’t there.

My phone went off

Unknown Number

Maybe your not so sweet as honey after all, you have Claws

Me:

Who is this?

Unknown

😈 I’m hurt

Me

Adam?

Adam

There’s my girl, I haven’t seen him marked like that since Japan .

Me:

Those aren’t from me.

Adam:

Fuck, Honey are you okay?

Me:

Don’t honey me please. Did you tell him?

Adam

No, call it a crisis of conscience

Me:

Conscience you? I guess thank you . No chance he brawled with mox in the back

Adam : Want me to lie?

Me: No….

Adam: He’s been or rumored to be fucking some girl in make up , I don’t have proof and you deserved better than to worry about a rumor.

Me: Are you in town?

Adam: yeah still not cleared. Honey do you want me to come see you? I can come pick you up, we can go grab food, a drink or just talk.

Me: Yeah, I need out of this house.

I gave him the address, I met him outside when he pulled up. “Have you said anything to him ?” As he pulled away from the house . “No, not about a couple weeks ago, not about tonight. I don’t know what to say I feel like a hypocrite.” staring out the window “Also why are you being so nice to me? I figured you’d be happy about this.” Casting a glance his direction. “Honey, I like you, I want you, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. So it served no purpose to hurt you, honestly I texted tonight because I was jealous, that those were your nail marks down his back. I never would’ve rubbed it in your face had I known. You have to believe me.”

Strangely enough I did believe him. “Were you ever going to call me about the third option?” my cheeks blushed turning more towards him in the seat. “You really want me to tell you? “ I nodded “I’ve picked up my phone so many times but again, I didn’t want to fuck up your life. I wanted you to want me, if you had called I’d have done anything you wanted. You didn’t though and I thought you and he had fixed shit.” his voice soft and sincere. “Adam, I haven’t stopped thinking about that night. It felt right, I just had to try and fix it with him, but it’s over now. If he has the audacity to walk out with his back looking like that knowing I’m watching there’s no going back. If I’m honest I had hoped the text was about the third option. “ placing my hand on his thigh a groan fell from his lips as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

He pulled up in front of his house. “Honey, I want you to be sure, if your not please tell me, and I’ll take you to dinner or a drink.” his voice low and warm and just like the first time I kissed him, it was needy and desperate. “Adam, take me inside, show me, pick me” my voice cracking on the last word. “Honey I’d pick you everyday and every night.”

He opened the car door, his hand on the small of my back leading me inside the house. He shut the door his lips finding mine, taking his time as he kissed me. “ Honey look at me” I glanced at him, his fingers lifting my chin, “Let me take care of you.” His hands moving to the hem of my sundress.”Let me show you everything you deserve” his mouth on my neck his hands moving up my sides. I felt my body relax under his touch. He took my hand and led to me to the bedroom, his touches were soft, as he lifted the sun dress over my head, his mouth followed his hands as he undressed me,before laying me down on the edge of his bed. I heard my phone ring, we both knew who it was and I ignored the call, as Adam had taken off his shirt and kneeled on the floor , parting my legs kissing the inside of my thigh when the phone rang again. “Adam, you don’t “ he cut my words off when he kissed my core through my panties, “Honey, unless you don’t want me to, or you don’t like it, I’ve been thinking about this since the night in the truck.” His fingers moved to the waistband of the soft cotton panties pulling them down. He licked from my entrance up, humming in appreciation as his mouth moved on my core. The phone rang again , “Answer it” he threw the phone up on the bed , “Adam he’s FaceTiming me” I whimpered, looking down at him

between my legs, “Good, take your revenge , take your control.” his eyes flashed wickedly as his tongue speared inside .

“Hello” I answered my face pink angling the camera just at my face. “ sweet girl, what are you doing? It’s not like you to not answer my phone calls.” Jays voice composed, I moaned as Adam’s finger glided over my clit. “Oh so that’s what you’re doing, dirty girl, let me see.” I shook my head no, words no longer able to fall from my mouth. “Sweet girl, I miss you and your pussy so much.” I groaned as Adam inserted to fingers moving at a faster rougher pace as I clenched around him, “ Oh fuck Ad” the words falling before I could stop them, “ who’s there with you? Who the fuck is there with you right now?” With his free hand Adam grabbed the phone, angling it showing Jay what exactly he was doing. I couldn’t stop the orgasm as I came while Jay was on the phone. “Cole is that you, you motherfucker I’m going to kill you.” Cole worked me through my orgasm, kissing the inside of my thigh, his beard covered in my cum, as he put the camera directly at his face. “Actually, I’m a girlfriend fucker but after the way your back looked tonight I’m gonna say your ex girlfriend fucker.”his voice cocky and assured. Jays face was pure rage as he screen shot it , “Seems, she needs to be tended to so I’m gonna let you go” as he hung up and turned off the phone.