#i had just graduated high school and was living on the couch alone in a mold-infested trailer

[corvidexoskeleton]

What moment made you fall in love with Dorian? Also whats one small cut scene you wish we'd gotten with him in either of his games

I couldnt possibly tell you what made me love dorian when i first played da:i because that was back in 2018 during a month-long fugue state and I Don't Remember lmao

As for the second part, maybe it's just because i havent done a playthrough of veilguard where i save minrathous instead of treviso, but personally i think i would have liked to see him have more of a role in dealing with the venatori throughout the game. I feel like he should have had more presence when it came time to confront solas, especially since he was one of two people present who was actually part of the main party with solas in inquisition. But maybe thats just because he was busy with tevinter political shit to reallt go off and hunt venatori, i dont know

Oh, but i for sure would have loved to see more interactions between him and emmrich, since they decided to make it so that dorian was one of emmrich's former students

[alsofoundinpeas]

Crossing the Line

Summary: Y/N never expected to fall for her roommate, Spencer, but when she becomes unexpectedly jealous of a girl flirting with him, she realizes she's in love with him. The problem is... how does she tell him that without ruining everything?

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Roommates/friends to lovers/two idiots in love trope. Jealous reader. Heavy making out. Dry humping (huge supporter of this I say bring it back!!). A small teensy bit of angst as reader struggles to accept her feelings. Insecure Spencer (sweet angel boy).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

Requested fic!! 🥳: I absolutely loved the fic you just wrote about Spencer and reader friends to lovers (and omg you write smut so well 😍) and I was wondering if you could write another one but maybe they’re roommates or something?

A/N: College!Spencer AU ahh!! Thank you so very much to the anon that requested this :’) <3 I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I know this isn't my usual, all-out smut buttt there will be a part two for these two, so stay tuned. :') As always, please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)

Y/N never imagined she'd be rooming with a man, let alone one as… peculiar as Spencer Reid. Not in a bad way, of course—just, well, peculiar. Spencer was the last person Y/N expected to respond to her ad for a roommate, but she was glad he did.

At barely twenty-one, he already had two bachelor’s degrees and was deep into his third PhD. He’d graduated high school at twelve (an IQ of 187 had a way of doing that, she supposed), skipping the years most kids spent developing their social skills. As a result, he was incredibly awkward and nerdy, but Y/N found this more endearing than off-putting.

As a roommate, he was exceptional: he kept things tidy, wasn’t obnoxiously loud (even with their paper-thin walls), never had people over (which meant Y/N spent more time with him, as she didn’t have guests either), and even helped her study, despite her insistence she could handle it on her own (they both knew better). As a friend, he was even better—always listening to her ramble about anything and everything, joining her for their now-regular movie nights, and offering a shoulder to cry on when needed (and she was always there for him in return).

In the six months they'd lived together, they'd grown incredibly close. Y/N was even smugly certain that they had avoided the classic 'falling for your roommate' scenario—until Spencer came home ranting about a girl in his class.

“I mean, seriously! How hard is it to grab a paper without touching someone?” Spencer huffed, plopping down onto the couch next to her and reaching for the popcorn bowl that sat securely in her lap.

It took about three months of living together before Spencer felt comfortable enough to do things like share snacks during their movie nights or indulge in the occasional moment of physical affection.

Y/N never took it personally, understanding his aversion to germs (one of the first things he’d said when they met was that kissing was safer than shaking hands, and she’d almost jokingly taken him up on it). Every time Spencer felt comfortable enough to share food with her (like he was doing now) or lean into her on the heavier days, letting her hold him until the world felt a little lighter, her chest swelled with pride. It made her happy to know he trusted her enough to let his guard down like that.

Y/N raised an eyebrow as she listened to his rant. Apparently, a girl in the class he TA'd for had been getting on his nerves for weeks, but this was the first she’d heard about it. It didn’t surprise her—Spencer tended to bottle things up until they reached a breaking point, and then he'd unload it all at once, just like he was doing now.

"She’s always staring at me, too. Every time I glance up, there she is—staring and chewing on the end of her pen. It gives me the creeps," Spencer grumbled, a shiver running down his spine as he recalled it.

"Wait wait wait," Y/N stopped his rant with furrowed brows. "What did you say this girl's name was?"

"Her name’s Wren Davidson. You might know her—or at least know of her. I'm pretty sure she's in a few of the same classes as you," Spencer said, pausing to snack on some popcorn, though by now, their movie was all but forgotten as the starting menu looped on the screen. "She’s about 5'6", has dark brown hair with some highlights, and green eyes."

Y/N pressed her tongue to her cheek, thinking for a moment. The name sounded strangely familiar…

"Oh! I know who you mean—she's in my 8:00 AM lecture with Professor James on Tuesdays and Thursdays," Y/N said, snapping her fingers as she remembered. She popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth, then tilted her head. "So, just to recap—she's asking you questions instead of the professor, touching you whenever you hand out papers, staring at you… and what else?"

Spencer adjusted his glasses and leaned forward, clearly frustrated.

"She’s been bringing me coffee lately, even though I’ve told her a million times I don’t want it because you always make it just the way I like before I leave and I don't need more. And when she doesn’t bring coffee, it’s some kind of baked good. I don’t get it! If she’s looking for favoritism, why not try to suck up to the professor? I’m just the TA."

A sudden tightness gripped Y/N’s chest as she processed his words. It was clear now—Wren was flirting with him. But why did that thought send an unexpected wave of discomfort through her? Jealousy, maybe? No, that didn’t make sense... Why would she be jealous?

“She’s not looking for favoritism, Spence. She’s looking for a way to get into your pants,” Y/N snickered, ignoring yet another wave of unease that crashed into her at the mental image of Spencer actually having sex with Wren. Anyone would be uncomfortable thinking about their roommate having sex… right? That was a perfectly normal reaction.

Spencer suddenly choked on the popcorn he’d just popped into his mouth, coughing violently and startling Y/N. Without thinking, she leaned over, gently patting his back as concern flooded her expression. When the coughing finally subsided into a weak wheeze, she reached for his glass of water on the coffee table and handed it to him with a worried glance.

"Jesus, Spencer! Are you okay?"

"Why would you say that?"

Spencer's voice was unnervingly high, his face flushed from both the coughing fit and his growing embarrassment. He took a slow sip of water, trying to steady his racing heart. Setting the glass down with trembling hands, he adjusted his crooked glasses, his gaze avoiding hers. "For the record," he muttered, his voice tinged with insecurity, "I highly doubt she’s trying to… get in my pants."

Y/N's expression softened from concern to sympathy as her hand moved to rub his knee in comfort.

She remembered the first (and only) time she’d gotten Spencer to drink with her, how, in his tipsy state, he’d opened up about his painful past. In a rare moment of vulnerability, he’d shared how brutally he’d been bullied as a child prodigy, and how those experiences had led him to avoid romantic relationships for fear of humiliation and rejection. That night marked the turning point in their relationship, transforming them from roommates who got along to actual friends—a change she would forever be grateful for.

"You’re too hard on yourself," Y/N said gently. "Trust me on this one. As a woman, I can tell you with absolute certainty—she's flirting with you." She added, her tone matter-of-fact.

Spencer gave her a doubtful look, but after a moment, his shoulders slumped in reluctant acceptance as he began to entertain the possibility. "We’ll see," he muttered, grabbing the remote and finally starting their movie night.

It turned out Y/N had been right.

Three weeks had passed without a word from Spencer about it, and Y/N figured Wren had gotten the message and moved on. But then she began to notice Wren walking into class with a little extra bounce in her step, a shy, almost giddy smile lighting up her face as she sat down. Y/N shrugged it off… until she noticed Spencer doing the exact same thing.

Spencer began coming home later and later after class, a goofy grin on his face as he wandered through the apartment or headed to his room. Y/N didn’t ask any questions, knowing he’d share whatever was making him so happy when he was ready—though she had a pretty strong hunch about who it was. By the fourth week, he finally felt comfortable enough to confide in her.

"You won’t believe this, but I finally just asked Wren straight up if she was flirting with me… and she said yes!" Spencer said, his excitement clear as he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Y/N cook. "We’ve been spending time together after class, and, uh… I asked her out on a date for this Friday!"

Y/N froze mid-stir, caught off guard by the sudden pang of sadness that hit her. Why did she feel this way? She should be happy for him—he was her closest friend, after all. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to keep stirring as she pushed the unsettling thoughts aside for the moment.

"That’s great, Spence!" Y/N said, though her voice came out a bit tighter than usual. "So… what do you have planned for your date?"

Spencer began to ramble excitedly about what he had planned for Friday, his hands moving animatedly as he spoke. All it did was seem to make the feeling of dread and hurt creeping up on her worse, though she couldn't for the life of her understand why Spencer talking about his date had her so bothered. Maybe it was because she hadn't been on a date in over a year, having avoided the dating scene after her last breakup. That had to be it.

Y/N nodded absentmindedly, her mind fixated on the uneasy feeling growing inside her rather than his words. It had been so long since she’d felt anything like this, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make sense of why it was happening.

She wasn’t blind. She knew Spencer was ridiculously attractive (even if his wardrobe seemed to be straight out of an elderly man’s fashion catalog). And he was kind, thoughtful, and attentive—anyone would be lucky to date him. Yet, despite all that, she’d always seen him as nothing more than a friend. Or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

Fortunately, the timer went off, cutting Spencer off mid-sentence. He quickly shifted gears, helping her dish out their food. They moved to the living room, ready to enjoy their meal and unwind with TV, as they always did.

Spencer couldn’t help but notice that Y/N was quieter than usual. She didn’t join in with her usual banter during the show, instead taking absent-minded bites, taking bites between distant, unfocused stares at the screen. His brow furrowed as he put his fork down, observing her slowly push her food around without really eating.

"Y/N… are you alright?" Spencer asked, lowering the volume on the TV. "You’ve barely touched your food."

"Hm?" Y/N looked up, offering a faint smile as she shrugged. "Yeah… I’m fine, Spence. Just a little tired, I guess."

He didn’t fully buy it, but he decided not to push further. "How about a nap in my lap while I grade papers, then? After dinner, of course. I don’t want your head in my food," Spencer joked, pleased with himself. His lame humor had her rolling her eyes and grinning, stifling a laugh.

That had become normal for them: napping or cuddling, quick pecks on the cheek or top of the head when one of them left, cooking and eating together… the list went on. But the more Y/N thought about it, the more she realized it didn’t exactly align with typical roommate behavior. Or maybe it did, and she was just overanalyzing, letting the strange feeling she couldn’t shake make her paranoid.

"That sounds perfect," Y/N agreed, silently hoping the nap would help clear her mind.

They finished dinner, chatting between bites about their day. Spencer, ever the gentleman, told her to stay on the couch while he cleared their plates and rinsed them. After grabbing the stack of papers he needed to grade for Professor Hartman from his room, he returned, settling back onto the couch with a grin as he patted his lap.

Y/N eased into his lap, stretching her legs out across the couch as she nestled her head into the crook of his neck with a contented sigh. Spencer ran a hand down her back as she settled in, giving her hip a gentle pat before picking up the first paper to grade.

It didn't take long for Y/N to drift off in his arms, her breath warm against his skin as he graded papers. The room was quiet except for the soft rhythm of her breathing, the rustling of the papers as he flipped through them, and the occasional hum of a car passing outside. Spencer paused his grading, his gaze drifting down to Y/N as she slept peacefully in his arms. A fond expression softened his features as he watched her, her calmness soothing him. Slowly, he reached up and caressed her cheek with his knuckles, then resumed his work, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer.

Spencer’s eyelids drooped as he made his way through the last few papers, small yawns escaping him between each one. When he finished, he quietly set the stack on the coffee table, taking care not to disturb Y/N. With a gentle shift, he settled back into the cushions, bringing one hand to cradle her head as he adjusted their position on the couch. He carefully maneuvered so he could stretch out before pulling her closer, tucking her into his side.

It was late enough that Spencer didn’t see the need to wake her; he knew if he did, she’d be up for hours. Reaching behind him, he turned off the lamp, letting the room fall into darkness. The soft rhythm of her breathing eased him, and soon, he drifted off, her warmth grounding him. In minutes, they were both asleep, entwined in the quiet comfort of each other’s arms.

As the week passed, Y/N found it increasingly difficult to cope with the thought of Spencer going on his date with Wren. Every time he brought it up, she quickly steered the conversation elsewhere or found an excuse to slip away, guilt gnawing at her with every evasive move. She hated herself for it—he was genuinely excited, and she didn’t want to ruin that. But every mention of the date made her stomach twist, and she couldn’t bring herself to face it without feeling like she was being torn apart.

Y/N finally understood why the idea of him going on a date was so devastating to her nervous system.

Late Tuesday night, as Y/N lay awake in bed, a sudden, jarring realization hit her: she had fallen in love with Spencer. Somewhere over the past seven months, amid shared laughs, quiet moments, and unexpected tenderness, she had fallen hopelessly for the brilliant, quirky man she had sworn she'd never fall for.

And now, because she was a spineless coward who was too afraid to risk their friendship by speaking up, she found herself helping Spencer get ready for his date.

"Spencer, seriously—hold still! I'm almost done," Y/N grumbled, her tongue poking from the corner of her mouth as she fixed his hair.

Spencer let out an exasperated sigh but stopped shifting, almost going cross-eyed as he tried to focus on her. She was so close now that he could almost taste the minty freshness of her gum, her breath brushing his face making him more flustered than he expected. He nervously twiddled his fingers in his lap, his curiosity piqued as he waited to see how she had tamed his unruly strands.

"There you go. What do you think?" Y/N grinned proudly, stepping back to give him space as he stood from where he was sitting on the toilet lid, turning to face the bathroom mirror.

Spencer turned his head from side to side, eyes lingering on his reflection. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he examined himself. For the first time, he felt it—he felt good. Like he could finally see what Y/N saw when she insisted he was handsome. Instead of his typical gelled, slicked-down look, she'd arranged his hair to accentuate his face, giving his features a more defined, natural appeal.

"I... Y/N, I love it. Thank you," Spencer breathed earnestly, turning to pull her into a warm hug.

Y/N smiled gently, wrapping her arms around him. The newfound confidence in his eyes was enough to ease the ache in her chest about his date. At least, she thought, he was finally seeing himself the way she always had—worthy and deserving of feeling this good.

“Of course, Spence. Anything for you,” she murmured, the words feeling heavier than she intended. She meant it, though. She would do anything for him—even if it meant shattering her own heart along the way.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Y/N released a long, shaky breath, pressing her forehead against the cool wood for a moment before slowly making her way to Spencer's room. He had told her not to wait up, mentioning he planned on going to Wren’s afterward. So, she curled up in his blanket, clutching his pillow to her chest, trying to let the comfort of his familiar scent quiet her restless mind.

Less than five minutes passed before the tears began to fall, each one soaking into the fabric of his pillow as a sob broke free from her chest. She felt pathetic. There she was, crumpled in his bed while he was out on a date, all because she couldn’t find the courage to tell him how she felt—too afraid to admit the truth, convinced that he could never feel the same way about her.

The hours slipped by in a blur, her tears long gone as exhaustion weighed heavily on her. Too weary to move to her own bed, she simply tossed her pants to his floor, closed her eyes, and let sleep take over in the comfort of his sheets. She'd remake his bed in the morning before he got home, hoping he'd never know about the quiet, tearful night she'd spent there.

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, his fingers grazing his scalp as he quietly unlocked the door and stepped into the dark apartment. The date had gone fine, nothing awful… but there was a difference between nice and right. Wren was nice, but she wasn’t the one his heart had been quietly waiting for. That person was the other half of this apartment, likely fast asleep in her room, just as he’d told her to be—and he couldn’t shake the feeling she should’ve been the one he’d been out with tonight.

Spencer hung his jacket on the coat rack and slipped off his shoes, setting them neatly by the door. He headed toward his room, eager to leave the awkwardness of the evening behind and looking forward to starting the next day with the one person who truly made his world feel right. Though Y/N wasn’t his, there was a quiet comfort in knowing she was always the first face he’d see each morning. Maybe one day, he'd find the courage to tell her how he felt. But for now, he was content cherishing their friendship.

He couldn't shake the slight guilt he felt for Wren, a cringe running through him as he replayed the moment she'd tried to kiss him when he dropped her off. When she leaned in, he'd jerked back instinctively, his eyes wide in shock, leaving her face flushed with embarrassment. He’d apologized immediately, of course, and she’d been kind enough to accept it before hurriedly retreating into her house. Still, he couldn't help but feel the discomfort linger, knowing their interactions in class would be uncomfortable from here on out.

Spencer pushed open his door, too exhausted to bother with the light as he shrugged off his clothes, blindly stumbling toward the bed. He let out a sigh of relief as he collapsed onto the mattress—only to freeze when something beneath him let out a loud, panicked yelp. He scrambled back in shock, crashing to the floor in a clumsy heap, cursing loudly.

"What the fuck?" Spencer gasped, reaching for his lamp from the ground as he quickly sat up.

Y/N blinked at him in startled surprise, her brow furrowed and mouth slightly agape as she took in the sight of him sprawled on the floor. Spencer felt a wave of relief wash over him, his body sagging as he realized she wasn’t some weird, perverted burglar waiting for him. Still, as the shock wore off, confusion crept in. Why was she in his bed?

“Are you alright?” Y/N squeaked, instinctively reaching down to help Spencer back onto the bed. Her mind was still foggy with sleep, and her heart was racing from the jarring wake-up call.

Spencer quickly slid under the covers, suddenly self-conscious of his state of undress, his face flushing as he glanced at her. He cleared his throat and gave a small nod. "I'm good, just… uh, why are you in my bed?"

Y/N hesitated, her teeth gently catching her lower lip as she searched for an excuse that wouldn't sound ridiculous. But nothing came to mind. With a deep breath, she finally decided to just tell him the truth.

"I… I wasn't handling your date with Wren very well," Y/N confessed, her voice low. "I came in here hoping to get some peace because being near you usually makes me feel better. But instead, I just ended up crying myself to sleep in your bed. I'm really sorry," she added, her brows knitting together as she looked at him. "Wait—why are you here? I thought you were going to stay at Wren's."

Spencer’s expression softened as he took in her words. “I chose to come home,” he said quietly. “Wren’s nice, but tonight made me realize there’s really only one person I want across from me, or kissing me, or… anything else.” He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “But what do you mean you weren’t handling my date well? Why did you cry yourself to sleep, sweetheart?”

Y/N’s heart clenched at his words, a wave of worry washing over her as her fatigue made it harder to hold back what she was feeling. Who could he possibly be talking about? She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before she finally spoke.

“I’ve been trying to figure this out for a while,” she began, her voice soft but steady. “And, Spence… I think I’m in love with you. I’ve probably been in love with you for a long time, but I was too afraid to admit it to myself. Every time I thought about you with her, I felt so… sick. So jealous. Because I wanted to be the one you were with. I wanted to be the one you fell in love with.”

The words hung in the air between them, raw and unguarded. It was out in the open now. There was nothing left to hide.

To her surprise, Spencer let out a soft chuckle. Before she had a chance to take offense, he reached for her hands, holding them gently as he spoke.

"Y/N… you're already the one I've fallen in love with," Spencer confessed, his voice steady as his eyes held hers. "You're the reason I came back. As I sat across from her, it hit me—there’s no one else in this world that I’d rather be with than you."

Y/N blinked hard, ensuring that she wasn’t asleep and that this wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t. He was still there when she opened her eyes, sitting cross legged and vulnerable (and enticingly bare under the covers) before her as he waited for her to respond. He tilted his head at that, laughing softly as his face scrunched in confusion.

“What are you doing, silly girl? I confess my love to you and your response is to blink at me like an owl?” Spencer teased, his nose twitching as he grinned.

Y/N huffed out a laugh of her own, gently squeezing his hands as she shook her head. “I’m sorry! I just— I wanted to make sure this was real,” she murmured, her eyes falling to their hands in her lap.

“Would… would a kiss help to solidify that it’s real?” Spencer offered, a shy smile on his face.

Y/N’s eyes widened at that, baffled but pleased with his newfound confidence. Maybe she should do his hair more often. Without a word, she nodded eagerly, leaning forward to gently capture his lips with her own.

The press of his lips against hers sent her spinning, as though reality itself was slipping away and all that remained was the grounding warmth of his hands cradling her face. Spencer’s kiss was all-encompassing—like she was the very breath he needed to live. She craved more, desperate to fan the flames between them until the heat ignited, consuming them both from within.

Spencer’s lips never left hers as he gently tilted his head, deepening the kiss with a slow, deliberate movement. He carefully lowered her to the bed, his hands supporting her as he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers. "Feel real enough for you, yet?" he whispered, his breath warm against her skin, the faintest brush of his lips lingering as if he couldn’t bear to pull away for even a second.

Y/N rolled her eyes at his teasing, lacing her fingers into his hair to tug gently in retaliation. The whine he let out sent a sharp pang of desire up her spine, and she tugged harder just to hear it again.

“Mm, not yet. I think you’ll have to do it again to really convince me.”

The words barely filled the space between them before his lips were back on hers. She let out a soft exhale as his hips settled against hers, unable to help the giggles that slipped free when she felt his hard cock pressing against her through his boxers. She wasn’t laughing at him, not at all. She was just lost in pure, blissful joy, reveling in the realization that he was finally hers.

“Stop giggling and kiss me back,” Spencer muttered, his voice laced with playful frustration, but her laughter was contagious, and soon he was laughing too. Their lips remained pressed together, but it was more of a chaotic, shared moment than an actual kiss. As they pulled away, both of them breathless, the last of his nerves melted away, and they simply stared at each other, the connection now clearer than ever.

Spencer had imagined plenty of times what it would look like to have her splayed underneath him in his bed (thoughts that were shamefully fueled by her soft sounds of pleasure through their shared wall whenever she thought he was asleep). Nothing his imagination had dreamed up could ever compare to the sight before him. She looked utterly captivating, her cheeks flushed, lips slightly swollen from their kisses, eyes looking up at him with that familiar warmth. He always thought she was beautiful, without a doubt. But in this moment? She was a living, breathing work of art. A stunning, half-dressed masterpiece who was wrapping her legs around his waist with a shit-eating grin and—

“Oh—!”

Spencer squeaked as Y/N arched her hips into his again, grinding against him in a way that provided delicious friction against his aching cock. Spencer had never been more turned on than he was in this moment, the need thrumming through his veins driving him to rock gently against her in return.

Y/N’s grin faltered as her breath hitched, her brows pinching together as he began to thrust shakily against her through their underwear. Her mouth dropped open into a silent gasp as the head of his arousal brushed against her clit through the thin fabric, a helpless whine leaving her lips shortly after as he repeated the movement.

They were both too tired and too in love to rush their first time together (and Spencer’s first time in general), so they settled for this: the steady push and pull of their hips grinding together as their lips began to devour each other’s once more. The room quickly filled with their muffled noises of pleasure; soft moans and whimpers between passionate kisses and the rustling of his covers as they moved against each other creating an explicit symphony.

Spencer’s movements became more fervent as Y/N licked into his mouth, her nails dragging across his shoulder blades encouraging him to keep going. His body trembled as he felt her arousal dampening the front of his boxers, a guttural moan wrenching its way from his throat. She was soaked. All because of him.

Y/N’s head tipped back against his pillows, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt the pleasure coiling tightly in her lower stomach. His lips immediately moved to the crook of her neck, nipping and sucking gently at the skin there between whimpers of her name. It felt erotic, the both of them so turned on despite their exhaustion that they couldn’t help their movements, desperate to experience the other falling apart.

She’d make it up to him later, when she could actually take her time with him and make his first time something special, something memorable. But for now, she was perfectly content with this.

“Spence I’m—“ Y/N gasped, tangling her fingers into his hair as she began to writhe underneath him. “I’m about to—“

Her orgasm washed over her like a cold bucket of water, yanking the air from her lungs and making her body tense up as she cried out his name and clung to him. Spencer groaned alongside her, pulling his head from the crook of her neck so that he could watch her in awe. The sight alone almost had him cumming, his movements growing frantic as he chased his pleasure.

Her soft whines urged him closer and closer to the finish line as he rutted against her, and all he could manage was a soft shout of her name before his climax took hold of him, his cock throbbing against her as he spilled into his boxers. He collapsed against her, thrusting weakly with small whimpers to ride out both of their highs before his hips finally stilled.

Their chests heaved as they laid together, catching their breath. Y/N’s hands raked through Spencer’s hair, fighting to stay awake long enough so that they could clean up. When Spencer could finally move, he lifted up onto his forearms, pressing small, gentle kisses to her lips with murmured thank you’s before he climbed out of his bed to grab a towel from the bathroom. Once they were cleaned and stripped out of their cum-soaked clothes (to which Y/N and Spencer both giggled excessively about as they wriggled out of them), Spencer reached over to turn off his lamp.

Drained but happy, they collapsed into each other’s embrace, winding together in Spencer’s bed and surrendering to the pull of sleep. Just before sleep claimed him, Spencer pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead, whispering, "I love you, my sweet girl."

A soft smile tugged at his lips when he heard her whisper back, "I love you too, my sweet boy."

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[sweetdispatch]

Why are you doing this to yourself? - Q. Hughes

pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Quinn's girlfriend relapsed to her old habits after his comment

warning: mentions of cheating, mentions of eating disorder, mentions of throwing up, mentions of sex (nothing graphic), swearing, angst, hurt/comfort

words: 2.4k

note: my first ever published fic!! I used a name instead of Y/N because i don't feel comfortable writing without names so sorry for that. Also, english is not my first language so apologies if there's gonna be any mistakes. I'm proud of this piece and I hope you'll enjoy reading🤍

if you are struggling with eating disorder, please talk to somebody, your family, friends or even to me, you are not alone in this!❤️‍🩹

masterlist

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Zara never had been in a healthy relationship. Since high school times, all her boyfriends were abusive towards her. As a teenager, she got into  love-hate relationship with food. Always blaming herself and her look for not being good enough to have a partner. When she had been multiple times cheated on, she truly believed that’s because she’s fat and unattractive. The truth was that she was looking normal, like every teenage girl but her low self confidence let her believe that she’s the problem. Zara was skipping meals and when she ate something, she felt guilty and was forcing herself to throw up. When she graduated high school, she came back on right tracks. Yes, she still was struggling and had episodes of skipping meals but it got way better than it was back then.

When Zara met Quinn, she was impressed by how well spoken he is and very respectful towards her. She truly started to believe that she deserves to be loved. He was always giving her compliments and her confidence was growing. She never told him about how shitty exes she had and her problems with eating. She didn’t wanted a pity party from him. She truly believed that she’s a new person thanks to him. After a year of dating, Quinn had been named a new captain of the Vancouver Canucks. Zara was more than happy for him because she knew how hardworking person he is. Although she didn’t expected him to ask her to move into his apartment.

“Honey, I was just thinking that maybe you would like to move in to me? You already spent most of the time here and your work is closer from my place than yours. Plus with me having a new role in club, our schedules might go crazy and I want to spent every free minute with you”. Quinn casually said when they were laying on the couch watching a movie.

“It’s a huge step in our relationship Quinny… but I’m ready for it. I would love to move into your place”. Zara said and kissed his cheek.

Next week, the couple was packing Zara’s things from her place to later put them in Quinn’s apartment. Most of the things were already in his place but they still had to pick up the rest. They life living together was like a honeymoon until Quinn got into fixation about healthy food. He was always cooking for both of them and tried to keep balanced diet. Zara started having flashbacks to her life from high school, when she was trying to keep being super healthy but she said nothing to Quinn. One day, she haven’t ate breakfast because she was running late and later, completely forgot about lunch. On her way back to their apartment, she decided to buy pizza for dinner because she wasn’t in a mood for cooking. Zara ate the whole thing on one sitting finishing projects for work. When Quinn came home after the game, he saw the box. He thought she left him some of the pizza but it was just an empty box.

“Wow, you must been really hungry that you ate whole pizza and haven’t even left ma piece”. He joked, hoverer her face fell down when she realized that she ate an entire pizza this afternoon.

“Yeah, I haven’t got time in the morning to eat breakfast and later forgot to go and grab a lunch.” Zara admitted to him ashamed.

“Honey, we talk about it. You have to eat healthy”. Although Quinn meant eating three meals per day but she interpreted this otherwise.

“I know, I’m sorry”. She went to hug him and started asking him about today’s game just to change the topic.

He haven’t missed the way her face fell when he joked but decided not to mention this. Next days were hard for Zara. She had all time in her head Quinn’s words. Every evening when she was getting ready to take shower, she was looking on her body in mirror’s reflection. She started to see how her thighs got bigger and how her stomach wasn’t perfectly flat. She started to wear baggy clothes to cover her body from the world. She was also pushing Quinn away when he wanted to have sex with her. He saw those changes but he thought that she’s just overworked and tired. He haven’t asked anything but tried to be supportive as much as he could.

When Quinn had to left her for a roadie, Zara completely lost it. No one was there to make sure she’s eating proper meals. She started skipping breakfast. On lunch, she was only eating salads. When she was at home, she haven't cooked dinner. She thought that’s the best for her to started looking more attractive for Quinn.

After a week, Quinn came back home and decided to buy them takeout food from their favorite Italian place. He knew, she probably haven’t ate dinner and was waiting for him to eat together. When Quinn stepped into their place, he met unfamiliar cold. Zara wasn’t there to kiss and hug him like she was always doing when he was back from roadie. He saw her sitting in living room and watching a movie.

“Hi honey. I hope you are hungry because I bought us carbonara from the Italian place you love”. He said and kissed her forehead.

“Actually, I’m not hungry babe but feel free to eat yours. I’ll just eat it tomorrow”. She said.

“Okay. Have you ate dinner already?” He asked concerned.

“Well no, but…”

“Then take your pretty ass to the table because you have to eat”. Quinn said surprised at her words.

“I’m really not hungry Quinn”. She started getting irritated at him.

“I’m not playing with you Zara. You either gonna eat with me or I’m gonna force you to do it”. He said firmly.

Knowing that she’s in a lost position, she gave up and went to sit with him at the dinner table. She ate half of her portion and excused herself to the bathroom. In that moment, she was delighted that the bathroom is far from the living room and Quinn couldn’t hear her. Feeling the guilt of eating pasta, she forced herself to throw up. After she was done, she brushed her teeth and came back.

“I can’t eat anymore Quinny. I’ll pack the pasta and bring it to work with me for lunch". She said, knowing that she’s gonna throw the pasta to the trash the minute she leave the apartment for work tomorrow.

“Yeah, sure. What about bath together and just laying in our bed. I’m so tired”. He proposed.

“Sounds like a plan babe.” She went and kissed him.

Two days later, when Quinn and Zara were making out, he started to pull up her hoodie. She stopped him. Quinn finally decided to confront her. He was done with her not wanting to be intimate with him. He also saw that she wasn’t eating breakfast at home, always excusing herself with running late.

“What’s happening with you lately?” He asked in the nicest way he could.

“I don’t know about what you are talking about”.

“Cut the bullshit. I know you are skipping breakfast. I am not dumb not to see you always acting, like you are late and not eating breakfast when we both know it’s a lie. Also, I don’t know what I did wrong to you, but you always push me away when I try to have sex with you. So tell me, what’s happening”. He started getting mad at her with every minute.

“Quinn, I’m telling you, nothing is happening”. She was too ashamed to admit to him her problems and decided to lie.

“Fucking hell Zara. I know you for almost two years. We live together. I know you like the back of my hand. I know that something is wrong with you. You know that I’m here for you to listen and help”. He tried so hard not to yell at her.

“I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you accusations. Everything is fine!” She screamed the last sentence and left, feeling guilt for not telling him truth.

After the argument, both of them were giving each other cold shoulder. She stopped eating at all, even the salads for lunch. He wanted so hard to find out what’s going on with her but after her reaction, he decided not to push her and wait until she tell him.

Couple days later, he accidently walked into the bathroom when she was taking shower. When he saw her, Quinn thought he’s gonna cry. Her ribs was visible through her skin. She looked so skinny that it started to terrify him. He left and went to their bedroom thinking how he should ask her about it without getting into another argument.

“Hey, can we talk?” He asked unsure of her reaction.

“Sure, What’s up?”

“I saw you in the shower”.

“Oh”. That’s all she could say.

“Look, I know something is happening with you and I don’t want to push you but your body looks unhealthy. Why are you doing this to yourself?” He said not knowing where the conversation will take him. She sat quietly for couple minutes before she spoke to him.

“Can you promise me that you won’t get mad at me when I tell you?” She haven’t been looking at him, she kept her eyes on her hands.

“I promise honey”. He saw that she was playing with her nails and decided to replace it with his hand.

“I have a weird relationship with food. I’ve been struggling with it since high school. Every guy I’ve dated cheated one me and I thought it’s my fault. I started eating super healthy but when I saw it’s not getting me anywhere, I decided to skip meals. When I ate something, I felt guilty about it and forced myself to throw up. After graduation, it got better. Sure, I had episodes of skipping meals when I was triggered but it was getting better”. She said with her tears rolling down her face.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry to hear that”. He hugged her tightly and started to smoothing her hair. After couple of minutes, he decided to ask.

“What was your trigger this time?”

“I don’t think you want to know”. Zara didn’t wanted to make him feel guilty.

“I want to know”. He said softly.

“Remember when you get back home the other day and saw the empty box of pizza?” He nodded.

“This was my trigger. When you pointed out that I ate the whole pizza and said that I have to eat healthy. I felt that you’ll find me unattractive and will cheat on me like others”. She said completely ignoring his presence. He signed, mad at himself for even saying that.

“Zara, I’m so fucking sorry for making you feel this way. It was never my intention. I was just joking but I see now how hurtful it was for you. Please forgive me”. He said with voice full of guilt.

“It’s okay Quinny, you didn’t know”.

“It’s not okay. God, I made you feel bad and I’ll never forgive myself for that”. After couple seconds, Quinn asked again.

“When I brought the pasta after I got back home from roadie and forced you to eat with me, did you… Did you throw up when you excused yourself to the bathroom?” He asked not sure if he’s ready to hear the answer. When Zara haven’t said anything, he knew how big damage he had done.

He hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. She was crying into his shoulder when he was whispering apologies into her ear.

The next morning, Quinn made breakfast for both of them. When she saw the plate, he was fast to explain.

“I know you struggle now but I want you to eat something. I’m not gonna be forcing the full meal into you and you don’t have to eat all of it. At least try. Step by step”. She felt the love and respect in his voice and decided to bite a little bit of the toast. Before she left, he gave her paper bag.

“I’ve made you lunch. Again, I’m not forcing you but at least eat the granola bar. I love you.” He kissed her cheek.

“Thank you Quinny. Love you too.” She said and gave him a kiss.

Quinn started reading books about eating disorder and was learning everything to know how to help her and not make her feel even worst. He wanted to be the best boyfriend to her knowing that he’s responsible for her relapse into old habits. When he had time, he was preparing her favorite dishes. He made one cupboard in the kitchen with her favorite snacks. Never pushed her to eat full meals but wanted her to eat something.

When Quinn had to leave her for roadie for the first time since she told him about her relationship with food, he was scared. He didn’t wanted her to skip meals while he’s gone but he also knew that he can’t ask her directly if she ate. He decided to face time her every time he knew she was supposed to eat breakfast, lunch or dinner just to check up on her and see if she’s eating at that time.

Two weeks later, Quinn came back home and could smell a steak. He was surprised because he haven’t saw Zara in the kitchen for the past two months. The minute he entered the room she said.

“I thought you might be hungry. I’ve cooked you steak with fries”. She said and went to hug him.

“What about you honey?”

“I already ate dinner”.

“Zara”. He said knowing that she’s lying.

“I’m joking. I’ve made myself pasta with pesto”.

“Good that you have jokes on you but please, let’s not joke about it”. He said firmly.

“I’m sorry Quinny”. After seeing his reaction, she felt bad for even joking about this.

“Hey! Don’t be puffy, it’s fine. I just want to be sure you’re fed and healthy”.

“Ay, ay captain. Now let’s eat before it gets cold”. She grabbed his hand and went to the table with him. After they ate dinner, he said.

“It was delicious honey. I’m so happy you’re back on right tracks. I’m proud of you and I mean it”.

“I don’t know if I would make it without your support. Thank you for everything. I love you”. She went to kiss him but he deepened the kiss.

“Quinn I have to do the dishes, can it wait?” She asked.

“Oh hell no. I haven’t had my time with you for two months and I want to show you how much I love you and how much I adore your body. I want to make sure my girl knows that she’s gorgeous”

He lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom where they had fun all night long.

[feasibilities]

Afternoon Tea | Jim x Married!Reader

Synopsis: Jim visits his best friend's wife while she's home alone.

Warnings: Soft Fem!Dom, Jealousy, Cheating, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Past Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Guilt

Author's Note: I started classes late last month and had some health issues but I'm doing better. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Jim’s jealousy towards Chris made no sense. He had a beautiful wife and managed 2 children with her with little issue. Why should he be jealous of a marriage to a younger woman that happened because of a midlife crisis? 

“Hey, Jim. Come in.” You beamed. He loved seeing you smile. 

“Hey.” Jim said softly, taking you in. 

“I just came from yoga class, so excuse my attire. Would you like some tea?” You apologized, walking to the kitchen. 

“Sure, no problem.” He replied, distracted by how your leggings hugged your legs and ass. He took a seat at the table to gather himself. Pouring him a mug, you gave him a dish of sugar and lemon. 

“Thank you.” He said warmly. Curious glances were exchanged between you two before he broke the silence. 

“How have things been with Chris?” He inquired.

“Good, I suppose.” You trailed off. Noticing your apprehension, he decided to pry. 

“You sure?” Jim asked.

“Well, Chris wants to have kids but I would like to wait until I finish graduate school. I get that he’s older but this is really important to me.” You revealed, fiddling with your wedding ring. Jim was humored by your youthful vocabulary.

“Having kids is a big responsibility. Danielle and I met at university but waited until we graduated. I know he can be difficult to deal with at times but someone like you can convince him.” He said, sipping out of the mug. 

“You’re so much easier to talk to.” You said, sitting in the chair adjacent to him. Your gaze lingered on him. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you studied his features. Truthfully, he was much more intriguing than Chris. You hated Danielle for getting to him first. 

“How do you keep things exciting? Chris can be good time but you seem way more fun.” You said, scooting closer to him. 

“Oh, I’m no fun at all.” He said, shaking his head with a smile.

“I think you are.” You spoke softly, touching his arm. He tensed at the contact and sat his mug down. Jim was interested in whatever your plans were but worried about the consequences of fucking his friend’s wife. 

“Uh, I think I should go. It was nice speaking with you. Thanks for the tea.” He said politely, standing up. You grabbed his wrist and led him to the living room. Before he could protest, you shoved him on the couch and began undressing. Jim’s face turned bright red when your bra fell to the floor. This was much better than the time he spied on you taking a shower during a family vacation. His lecherous reminiscence was interrupted by you standing over him. 

“Do you want me, Jim?” You cooed, holding his chin. 

“Yes, I always have.” He answered embarrassingly quick. You climbed onto his lap and kissed him harshly. His large hands moved to your ass and massaged the soft flesh. You nipped at his bottom lip. Jim suddenly flipped you on your back and perched between your legs. He stared at you at like a dog waiting for direction. You quickly realized you could get him to do anything you wanted. 

“Go ahead.” You said. Jim’s tongue swirled around your clit as you yanked at his peppered locks. He took in the redolent scent of your trimmed pubic hair. His hands moved up to your breasts and hovered over them. Noticing his hesitancy, you pressed your hands over his and moaned sweetly. His tongue slipped into your damp heat. His pale blue eyes flickered open and his thumbs teased your nipples. You rocked against his face as you chased your high. After cleaning you off, he sat up to catch his breath. 

“Good boy.” You praised, smearing the moisture on his lips. You pulled him down and straddled him. You hurriedly unbuckled his pants and slid them halfway down his legs. 

“Wait-“ Jim started, wanting to use protection.

“There’s no time.” You whispered, sinking onto his length. A low groan escaped him as you slipped your fingers into his mouth. There was a marked desperation in his eyes. You relished in your newfound power. 

“Suck.” You ordered. You felt him suckle on your fingers gently. Rutting against him, you saw that Jim was already close. His heart was beating rapidly and his hands found the soft flesh of your hips. A tender kiss on his forehead made him fall apart. Hot spurts of his seed spilled into you. You embraced him as he came down from his high. Reality seemed to sink in for him as soon as it was over. He was overwhelmed with guilt and dread at the thought of his friend’s wife carrying his child. 

“I’ll take a Plan B. No worries.” You smiled innocently. 

“I-I have to get back for dinner.” He said nervously. 

“Stay.” You cooed. Despite his obligation, he couldn’t pull away from you more than a second. 

[kaciidubs]

Open Heart

❣ Summary: When you don't know what to say or do, when life starts living you, you can always rely on Chris to bring you back. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 3.2k ❣ Warnings: Mental breakdown, existential crisis, implied panic attack, angst, fluff, comfort, crying, Supportive BF! Chris, Reader is a mess mentally and emotionally, discussions of family, careers, life, and the future, self doubt, self deprecation, mentioned disassociation ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Christopher, and Christopher Bahng [wowie], Reader is referred to as Princess, Baby, Love, Sweet Girl, this is the one that's personal so I'm sorry if you can relate but also you're not alone ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“Yeah, dad, I know... Mhm... No, I haven’t heard back from them yet, but it’s only been a week since I applied so... Yeah, I know…”

You paced the living room of your apartment, holding your phone to your ear as you did your best to tame the headache brewing in your head. 

“I know you do, it’s just - there’s so many things I can do with my degree, I’m just trying to figure out what I want to do... I know... Yeah... Okay... Talk to you later... Love you too, bye.” 

Ending the call, you tossed your phone onto the couch with a heavy sigh - the weight of the world piling on top of stress already weighing on your shoulders. 

Everything sucked - almost as if the world was out to get you for simply existing; years of doing what was right, doing what you were supposed to, only for you to still feel like you weren’t doing enough. 

People pleasing. 

A wave of guilt made your stomach turn, tears stinging behind your eyes as you stood in the silence, yet it still felt so loud. 

You knew your dad meant well, your parents meant well, your family meant well, but every question, every poorly veiled nudge of ‘What’s your next big move going to be? You’ve been stagnant for so long.’ ate at your psyche at every turn. You felt like you did everything; you graduated high school in the high percentage of your class, you went to college, you graduated as a first generation student after five excruciatingly long years - yet through all that they still wanted more from you. 

A pleasure to have known. You have so much potential.

If you had a dime for the amount of times you’ve heard those words, you would’ve been a millionaire by now. 

A shaky breath rattled in your chest as you sighed, your hands rising to cup your rapidly heating face. “Fuck... F-Fuck.”

Your vision blurred, salty tears stinging your eyes before burning fiery trails down your cheeks with no signs of stopping. 

When was it going to be enough? When were you going to be enough? 

Your breath hitched, choking on a sob that your body refused to let go - not now, not right now. You were still young, you had so much potential - so why did it feel like you were being rushed? Why did it feel like everyone saw some invisible clock above you, counting down the days until you’d become useless? 

Wasted potential - those words always used to scare you, the famous buzzwords of any educator wanting to instill proper work ethic in their students; the future of the workforce. 

Wasted potential - that’s what you were beginning to feel at your 9-5; a quaint little job you kept throughout your final semester, something that got the bills paid and kept a little more in your savings. 

Wasted potential - that’s what you felt when your days began blending together, when you realized disassociation was your coping mechanism until your mouse hovered over ‘clock out’. 

You wanted to do so much, so much, but there was never enough time in the day - they were never ideas that would earn you a proper living wage, a career path your family wouldn’t agree with. 

Your body shook as a sob finally tore through your silent cries, your head throbbing as air tried to force its way into your lungs - crying never used to hurt like this.

Your world spun, it felt like time froze while speeding up, but all you could do was cry - stand in your living room and cry like a reprimanded child because you weren’t doing what you were supposed to. 

“Princess?” 

Your eyes snapped open behind your fingers, quickly registering a bigger, warmer pair wrapping around your wrists. 

“Baby, can you hear me?” 

Guilt. 

Chris was home early, and instead of relaxing like he deserved, he now had to tend to you - crying over the same thing you cried over four months ago. 

He felt you tense, he could see the spiral of overthinking, and his grip tightened, “Hey, hey, it’s just me - it’s just me, princess.” 

You sniffled, biting back another sob as you shook your head, “’M s-sorry-” 

“Shh, don’t apologize - you don’t have to apologize, not to me, not for this.” 

Understanding - he was always so good at that, making sure you knew you weren’t the problem of anything; he always joked he got better at it from you. 

Another wave of tears surged through you, nearly making you double over at the rush of fresh emotions popping off in your brain, your jaw tensing as you tried to stifle the illegible babbling falling from your lips. 

“I- It’s- I can’t- And- It’s just so-” 

Chris pulled you into his chest, one arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cradled the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing circles just behind your ear. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay - I’m here, you’re okay.” 

He blinked away his own tears, the sounds of your cries breaking his heart when he entered the apartment, and now the feeling of your body shaking against his like a fall leaf utterly tearing him apart inside. 

You weren’t sure how long you both stood there, him whispering words of comfort in your ear while you stained his black hoodie with your tears, but you slowly came out of your breakdown with uneven breaths - your hands holding onto his hoodie as if he was your lifeline. 

He was your lifeline.

“Can we go to the bedroom, princess? Can we manage that?” He cooed softly, a soft smile settling on his lips as he felt you nod. “Okay, we’ll go slow, yeah?” 

True to his word, he slowly led you into the bedroom with shuffling steps, noting how you clung to him like a baby koala, as if you separated from him at any point you’d float away into space. 

Sitting on the bed first, he scooted toward the middle of the mattress and you quickly followed suit; crawling toward him before laying your head on his chest, tangling your legs with his while he pulled you into his side. 

It was quiet, save for the occasional hiccuped breath and sniffle, the sound of his heartbeat slowing the thudding in your own head, the rise and fall of his chest reminding you how to breathe again.

“Love?” 

You hummed softly, your free hand nonchalantly playing with the drawstring of his hoodie. 

“Wanna talk about what happened?” 

Dropping your hand to lay flat on his chest, you took a deep breath to fight back another round of tears threatening to come out. “I... My dad called to check in, see how we were doing and all... He wanted to know if I found a different job yet, one that uses my degree, and I told him I hadn’t.” Swallowing thickly, you squeezed your eyes shut as you continued, “He’s worried that I’m not using my full potential, that I’m not getting paid what I should - and I don’t blame him, really, I went to college for a reason and everything, but it just feels like I'm being rushed into making another decision I’m not ready for." 

“Another decision like picking your major?” Chris chimed in - he’d remembered you telling him about your realization of wanting to switch majors in your junior year, but ultimately choosing not to since you were close to graduating at the time. 

You nodded, “I know he means well, I love my dad, I love my family, but it just feels like they don’t understand that I'm just...tired. I’m so, so tired that the idea of getting a new job - when I’ve only been at this one for just over a year - makes me feel like I can’t breathe. Fuck, the fact that I’ve been at this job for a year makes my skin crawl because this isn't what I want.”

Picking mindlessly at a few cotton pills collected on the fabric of his hoodie, a heavy sigh escaped you, “I feel like all I’ve been doing my whole life is performing for other people, catering to other people, to the point that I don’t even know who I am. I’ve always been told all these great things about myself, but-” A hot tear rolled across the bridge of your nose, “I don’t believe them, at all. Everyone sees all this potential in me and it drives me crazy because I don’t see potential in myself.”

Your name rolled off of his tongue softly, with so much care and gentleness that it made your heart hurt more because he’d been part of the crowd singing your praises and you practically confessed that you didn’t believe him. 

“Princess, my sweet, sweet girl…” 

“C-Chris, I’m-” 

“Please,” he cut you off with a gentle squeeze, “you already know what I’m gonna say if the next words out of that pretty mouth of yours are ‘I’m sorry’.”

Sighing softly, you accepted that fate as his right hand slid down your arm to take your hand in his, another gentle squeeze to remind you that he’s right here. 

“I just... I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

“Well,” Chris hummed softly, taking in the way your smaller fingers threaded between his own, “what is it you want to do?” 

It was almost as if you stopped breathing, guilt and shame swirling around in your head at his question - the golden question everyone had, but never got the full answer to. 

“...open heart?” 

This time it was Chris’s turn to falter, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your tear stained face. “Open heart, princess, always.” 

Open heart, something you’d both established years ago in your relationship as a way of asking for full attention - reestablishing that you both were in a safe space with zero judgment, remaining heart to heart with one another. 

“I-” You paused, fighting against the will of your mind wanting to keep yourself protected, from being seen. “I... I don't want to do anything…”

Before he even had the chance to breathe, you jumped into the defensive, “A-And I know that’s stupid- I’m in such a position so early on in my life and there’s so much I can do, but, baby, I’m at a point right now that I can’t see myself working a 9-5 for the next month, let alone another 40-or so years of my life!” Panic quickly began to set in as your thoughts ran a mile a minute, your brain begging you to stop but your heart pleading for you to get rid of this weight. “I can’t be a girl boss, I don’t want to be independent, I-I just wanna be taken care of and loved and supported - I wanna take care of all the things at home and be the one helping you reset after those stressful days. I wanna learn about myself and my hobbies and discover what kind of person I really am underneath all of these learned traits. And I’m sorry, I know, it’s pathetic, it’s shameful, it’s selfish to want to put all of this onto you-” 

The sound of your name falling firm from his lips stopped you in your tracks, your blood running cold as you laid as still as you could be against him. 

“Open heart means we can’t speak for each other, remember that rule?” His tone was softer, light and teasing, quelling the tinge of fear spoiling every word you spoke as you nodded. “Okay, good - now, can I say something, or would you like to continue?” 

“Please say something, Channie.” 

“Alright, first and foremost, don’t ever, ever call anything you want ‘stupid’ - your desires are what make you you, and that includes wanting that 24-inch green matcha squishmallow.” 

He felt your body shake - short laugh, a huff of air, a sign that he was breaking through.

“Second, I don’t think you wanting to be provided for is pathetic or shameful or selfish - it takes a strong person to admit that, and at the end of the day I think that’s what everyone wants in their own special form; somewhere they feel safe, cared for, loved. And, you’re not putting it all on me,” he felt you tense, but his hand held firm to yours, “because I want to be that for you. I want to provide for you, take care of you, handle all the things that are too big and scary for you to figure out on your own. I want to give you the freedom to explore and be yourself, pursue what you want and don’t want to do - and if that makes you ‘selfish’ then, princess, I’m the most selfish person of them all.”

“You-” your voice cracked, throat raw and sore, “You don’t mean that, baby, please-”

“C’mere.” He huffed, pulling you up with him as he sat up before tapping your thigh, signaling for you to sit on his lap - and once you were situated, he cupped your face in his hands, “I would never lie to you, you hear me? Since the day we met I knew I wanted to do everything in my power to care for you, even when we were just friends and you would join the kids in teasing me about how old I was even though you weren’t too far off yourself.” 

Your pouted lips morphed into a sad smile and he had to stop himself from cooing over how cute you looked, even with puffy eyes and an even puffier face.

“Plus, I’ve been taking care of seven other people for the better half of five years, what makes you think I don’t want to do the same for the love of my life?”

Teary eyes searched his for any sign of dishonesty, but all you found was overflowing truth and love, a fresh breath of acceptance cooling your lungs like drinking ice water after eating a mint.

“Open heart?” You murmured softly, taking his hands in your own before pulling them off of your, embarrassingly sore, face.

He nodded, ducking his head to press a fleeting kiss to your knuckles.

“I was always a little jealous of you, you know that?”

“Me?!” 

The shocked squeak in his voice made a giggle, a genuine giggle, bubble up inside of you and you nodded in earnest. 

“Yeah, you. I always felt like I was so far behind everyone around me when it came to having their passions in order, having their lives in order, and when I met you all I could think about was how sure of yourself you were - how you were able to follow through and actually do what you love for a living not only because people around you supported you, but because you believed in yourself.” Dropping your gaze to your entwined hands, you traced your thumbs along his knuckles, “You always knew what you wanted and you worked toward it - I always wished I could be like that, I still do.”

“Baby, you know you can’t-”

“-compare my life to yours, yeah, yeah, I know.”

He didn’t miss the lilt of playfulness highlighting your words, a smile finding its way to his face as he shot you a lighthearted glare, “No mocking! But, really, you shouldn’t - we come from completely different backgrounds, and if anything I’m more jealous of you than you are of me; there’s so many things you’ve done that I haven’t had the chance to experience.”

You let out an incredulous scoff, tilting your head inquisitively, “Like what? Work a draining part time job in the food industry?”

“Yes!” Though he was laughing, you could still hear the serious notes in his voice, “You got to work retail, you went on family vacations whenever you wanted, you fucking graduated college before I did!”

“Okay, first of all, all of my horror stories should deter you from ever wanting to become a retail employee in your near future!” Dropping his hand, you poked him in the chest with a faux glare, “Second, I guess you’ve got me there - between how often I’ve seen my family compared to you, I do win that spot… But that last one you definitely have over me, Mr. Double Major!”

“Oh shut up - you’re a graduate, I’m still in classes; you didn’t have to go from having practice at 8 but an exam due at 8:30, while still needing two demo tracks ready for the first listen at 10!”

The two of you dissolved into a mess of giggles and smiles, whatever tension remained melting away with each melodic sound that escaped you.

“Princess?”

You hummed, a soft smile settling on your lips, “Yeah, Channie?”

“Open heart,” Chris started warmly, deep brown eyes sparkling with a love only you could know, “I want you to know that I meant every word I said - I do want to take care of you, physically, mentally, financially, whatever way you’ll let me. And - not to sound cocky or anything, but I definitely make enough to support the both of us with no issue. Aside from that, I want to build a life with you - so if that life includes you being the hottest stay at home wife then it’s the best life I could’ve ever asked for because you’re in it.”

A wave of heat rushed over you as butterflies erupted in your stomach, “Stay at home wife, hm?” 

Of course, you paid attention to everything else he said, but you didn’t think you’d be able to say anything on it without bursting into tears again.

“Would you prefer stay at home mom? I mean, you’ve already got seven kids calling you it anyways - and I can’t lie, it does have a nice ring to it.” He grinned, releasing your other hand to wind his arms around your waist, scooting your body closer to his.

Rolling your eyes at his less than subtle tease, you snaked your arms around his shoulders, nails playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, “Let’s just start with stay at home girlfriend and see where we go from there, yeah?”

“So you’ll quit tomorrow?”

“Christopher!” You stood no chance in holding back the burst of laughter that escaped you, narrowly avoiding knocking your head against his as you shook with unabashed giggles, “Tomorrow? You sound like you’ve been waiting for this confession to come!”

“Baby, I was one more angry rant of your supervisor ‘springing last minute work onto you’ away from quitting for you.”

Reeling yourself back in, you leaned forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss, your world finally feeling like the pieces were slowly falling into place - or, at the very least, revealing themselves to you. “I love you, Christopher Bahng, wholly and truthfully, there’s no words in the entire galaxy to express how much you mean to me.”

He held you tight, pressing his forehead against yours with a soft sigh, “I love you more, more than you ever know, more than all the stars in this universe and the next. Whatever you decide, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you - just say the word.”

“Does that include ordering takeout for dinner tonight so we can keep cuddling?”

“Find a menu while I change?”

“Order it while I wash my face?”

“Deal.”

Everything sucked, sure, and there was still much left to figure out - but with Chris by your side, you realized that things could get better with an open mind and an open heart.

[bellasprettywords]

So High School pt. II (Spencer Reid x Reader)

a/n: This little one shot is the continuation for So High School, I really hope you guys enjoy it

As always, this is not proofread because of who I am as a person

My masterlist

Warnings: Just fluff and kissing

Word count: 813

y/n – your name

Part 1

Saturday finally came around, and you were a little too excited about your date with Reid; you finished tying up and prepping the living room, making sure you had enough blankets, cushions, and snacks, so everything could go perfectly. Once again, the feeling of being sixteen, and having your first hang out after school with the guy you were crushing on invaded your whole body, and made your stomach flutter with excitement, when suddenly, you heard a buzzing from the intercom.

“Hi, y/n, this is Spencer… Reid!” you heard the young doctor stutter nervously, and the butterflies in your stomach went crazy

“Hi, let me buzz you in, and you already know the way up” you said trying to sound cool, and collected, but pretty sure that the huge smile on your face sounded through the intercom. After a couple of minutes, you heard a soft knocking on your door, you opened it and the gorgeous Doctor was leaning over the door frame, holding a small cardboard box.

“I brought pie! You know, because we are watching American Pie, I’m not sure what the movie is about, but if it’s about pies we are prepared” Spencer said, handing you the little box with a huge grin, with his cheeks turning bight pink

“Thank you, wow, that’s lovely, although there are not that many pies in American Pie… it actually the expression… well, you’ll see, please come on in” you said chuckling. Gosh! He really was the sweetest man in the whole world, and you just couldn’t believe that you’d have him all by yourself for at least a couple of hours

“Please take a sit wherever you’d like” you said motioning to your couch, “And, would you like anything to drink? I’ve got water, soda, tea, juice, and coffee, although it may be kinda late for coffee, you know?” you asked Spencer walking into the kitchen

“Actually, coffee was great, I’d take it with five sugars, please” he said, taking a look around your apartment living room, making you a little nervous about him profiling you through the stuff that’s lying around in the room

“Damn Doctor Reid, and you wonder why you can’t stop shaking” you said chuckling to hide the fact that you were nervous about having your crush at home. You sat down on the couch handing Spencer his coffee, and trying to shake away the nervousness that the situation created for you: you were alone, in your apartment, with the guy you’ve been crushing on for the last two years, but you were always too shy to admit it.

You played the movie and for the first fifteen minutes the two of you were completely immobile, but as the jokes progressed, you could feel Spencer and yourself moving closer and closer to each other. In the blink of an eye, you were cuddling under a blanket with your face leaned on Spencer’s shoulder and his arm was wrapped around you, softly caressing your arm.

“Do you know what this reminds me of?” you asked, looking up at the guy whose arms you were wrapped on

“Tell me” he said, looking into your eyes sweetly

“This date definitely reminds me of high school dates, you know, just hanging out watching a movie, although, those date usually ended with heavy make out sessions” you said jokingly and Spencer gulped loudly

“I… I wouldn’t know, I graduated from high school at 12, so I didn’t really have any dates with my peers” he said looking a bit embarrassed maybe?

“Oh, well, you didn’t miss much, I mean, dates pretty much went like this, although…” you said sitting up straight on the couch and Spencer gave you a puzzled look; you knew this was your chance, and you were going to take it. You leaned slowly towards Spencer, caressing his cheek with your hand, as you felt him leaning closer to you

“Is it okay if I…?” you started asking, but were quickly interrupted by Spencer’s lips, merging sweetly into yours. You moved your hands to his head, where you caressed Spencer’s curls, and you felt him placing his hands to your waist, making you sit closer to him as the kiss progressed. Spencer swiftly pulled you over his lap, and you gave a small bite to his lower lip, which gave Spencer the green light to insert his tongue into your mouth and move his hands from your waist, to your lower back

“Thank you” Spencer said in between kissed, which made you pull away from him to understand what was going on, so he went on “You know, for giving me the High School experience I missed out on” he said with a small smile forming into his lips

“You don’t have to thank me, but I’ll take another kiss” you said jokingly and Spencer leaned once more, kissing you tenderly

[probably-writing-x]

Armour

Rafe!AU x Reader

Summary: Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.

Warnings: Suggestions of a toxic relationship, cursing, mentions of alcohol / drug dependency, I think that’s everything??

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I LOVED writing this - it took me ages but I just had the idea from this gif and went for it. Let me know if you like it <3

It wasn’t a feeling you could describe. Because, really, it felt like there was no explanation. You’d been in love. You’d been consumed. And now? Nothing. It felt like a part of your future had been torn away in front of you. And you didn’t know why.

For nine years now you’d been dating your boyfriend, James. He was your high school relationship, turned college relationship, and the two of you had returned to the Outer Banks and bought a place together - planning on staying here so that he could work for his father now that the two of you had graduated college.

You’d been living in the house for a year now, down the road from his parents’ home, where he’d grown up. It was weird really, you’d been so certain that you wanted to get off the island. But he’d suggested moving back here and you agreed. That was what was going to keep him happy, anyway. And, plus, him working for his Dad’s company would mean that the two of you were practically set for life. Though it felt strange to think that your life would begin and end here. You’d done it for him, for your relationship, your future with James.

And yet you couldn’t figure out where things had changed. You couldn’t pinpoint a day, a moment, an argument; nothing. One day he was yours and the next he was disappearing. And, as much as you wanted to keep him, there was only so much it was in your control.

It was a day burned into your mind, one that would remain burned there for a long time. The way he’d looked at you, cold and heartless. The way he’d spoken, yelled and screamed when you disagreed. And, just like that, he’d packed a bag and walked out towards his parents’ place, telling you that it was over. Nine years of a relationship slipping away, disappearing into the dark of your first night alone.

Sarah had come round that night and stayed with you, her baby bump growing into her fifth month of pregnancy. She’d stayed with you on the couch as you cried, still been there in the morning when your eyes were tired and puffy. She’d stayed the entire day and helped pack up as many of your things as you could, called John B to get him to help take your stuff to their house.

They lived where the chalet used to be, in a house John B had built with the boys, much bigger than what they used to have. One of the rooms was taken up by the starts of their nursery, and they’d already set up an air mattress in the other room for you, a spare sheet and comforter folded on top. You didn’t sleep much more than a couple of hours that night either, or the night after, and you only slept from exhaustion on the fourth night.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Sarah knocks gently on the door before letting herself in, “How are you doing?”

You pull yourself to sit up in the bed, pushing yourself back against the headboard, drawing your knees to your chest, “I’m okay, just tired.”

She frowns and comes to sit on the bed beside you, her hand squeezing your knee, “So, you don’t have to see him if you don’t want to, but my brother is flying back today.”

Rafe. Her older brother. The boy you’d grown up with. He’d been your first kiss at a party when both of you were too young to know what you were doing. He’d been the boy that picked you up from your first drunk night when your parents couldn’t know you’d been drinking. He’d been the one your eyes were drawn to in a crowd of people since you could remember. You hadn’t seen him since the summer after your first year of college. He’d decided to move to New York - taking up a job in the city. The two of you had sat on the dock and spoken for hours and he ended the conversation by telling you he was leaving in the morning. Since then, your paths hadn’t crossed. He was barely home nowadays. But, you suppose, with Sarah being pregnant, it was a better time than any for him to return to the old stomping grounds.

“He’s coming here?” You swallow the lump in your throat.

She nods, “He’s going to sleep on the couch for a couple of nights. I haven’t told him anything about you and James - I figured it was up to you if you wanted to tell him or not.”

You take a deep breath and nod too, “Okay, thank you.”

Sarah squeezes your leg again and places her other hand over her bump, pushing herself up to stand, “John B is making some food if you want any breakfast. I’d make the most of it, he hates cooking normally,” She laughs, the sympathy still casting a shadow over her bright eyes.

Sarah knew how things were with you and Rafe, as much as she never mentioned it to you - it was a conversation that it felt like the two of you had already had without any words being spoken. She’d seen his face after the two of you kissed, the way he blushed and stuttered afterwards. She’d watched the way things had changed between you when you and James got together, the way Rafe seemed to distance. And she’d watched the pain in your eyes the day he left, like a little window through to the ache that seemed to never leave your heart. And, right now, she’d seen the slightest glimmer of hope in you at the mention of him coming home.

For the first time in a few days, you find yourself actually wanting to get up, get ready, feel a little human for the day. You shower and do all of your skincare, spending a little longer on it than you usually do. You half-dry your hair and plait it instead of leaving it to frizz around your head, and you change into clean clothes from the duffle bag of things that you and Sarah had packed up from your house - well, what was your house.

By the time you come downstairs, John B and Sarah are sat at the dining table, tucking into plates of food with a fresh pot of coffee and a jug of orange juice on the table. One of his arms is around the back of her chair, his eyes bright as he listens to her speak.

“Hey! You’re up!” He looks over and grins as you come down the stairs, “How are you feeling today?”

You smooth a hand over the two braids on your head and smile, feeling like you have to force it just a little less than before, “Better, thank you.”

“Good, well there’s food here if you want it,” He gestures to the table, “And eat up quick because Sarah’s eating enough for two at the minute.”

You laugh and make your way over, sitting down at the opposite side of the table. From the angle, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in their lounge and the sight doesn’t feel like yourself. Your eyes are dark underneath, something no eye cream would fix after just one use. And your body seems weirdly shrunken in the sweatshirt around your figure. It sits long over your arms and so baggy that you can’t make out the shape of your torso. Your skin looks drier and your lips are chapped. But you remind yourself that you feel a little more human today and it seems to ease the worry for a while, your breath feeling less shaky as you turn back to the food.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realise the time,” John B glances at the clock, “I promised I’d go and help Pope build their crib before I went to pick your brother up - apparently I’m a pro at it now.”

Pope and Cleo were also expecting, due just a month after Sarah and John B’s baby would likely be born. They lived in a house not far from his parents’ place. JJ and Kie had come back to the Outer Banks a few months ago after travelling for a year - though they said it was less travelling and more finding as many places to surf as they could. Before that, Kie had been working on turtle conservation in a few different projects and JJ had been flying out everywhere with her - experiencing the world as a pair. They had no plans of marriage, or kids, or even where to settle, but that was perfect for them; chasing another adventure until it felt like they’d done it all. And you - whilst it felt like all of your friends were starting a new chapter, yours had just ended and the author was yet to think of where the story would go next. It was as if one of the main characters had just dropped out of the pages, leaving the story in ruins from here on out - all chapters of marriage and pregnancy and growing old together disappearing as quickly as James had told you it was over.

John B kisses Sarah a quick goodbye and grabs the keys to his truck, disappearing outside. A chill flurries through the house but it dissipates quickly, settling back into the home they’d managed to make together. You weren’t sure if you could remember your house feeling like that, and when you think about it for too long, you settle on the fact that maybe it never had.

~~~

It’s early afternoon when you hear the sound of a car in the driveway. And you’re sure your ears prick up to the noise, your heart seeming to pause a little in preparation. You set down the book in your hands and stand up from the couch, glancing at your appearance in the mirror quickly and dragging your fingertips underneath your eyes as if to push the fatigue away from them.

“I think that’s them back,” Sarah comments as she comes downstairs, making her way over to the door, “Yeah, that’s them! Are you okay?”

You glance at her and regather your words, “Of course.”

And, just like that, the door clicks open and the sound of two rumbling voices tumbles into the room, a deep laugh that pauses halfway through.

“Hey little sis!” Rafe’s voice seems no different than when you last heard it, deep and intense but seemingly so comforting.

He grins as he wraps his arms around his sister, cautiously as if the bump between them is the most fragile thing he’s seen. His eyes flick down to the baby bump and back up, shaking his head with the slightest reflection of tears in his eyes.

“I still can’t believe it,” He chuckles, hugging her again, “I was just saying to John B that I-“

As he pulls away from her, his eyes flick back to the only other body in the room. The few metres between you. His shoulders and features soften, his body relaxing just slightly. His smile falters, somewhere close to shock, before returning as bright as it had been before.

“(Y/N)…” His voice seems to trail off, Adam’s apple bobbing and the sound of his duffle bag hitting the floor seeming to echo in the space between you, “Long time no see.”

With that, he strides the short distance between you and wraps his arms around you tightly, tight enough that your feet just slightly lift from the ground. He smells like dark cologne and coffee and his hair is longer than when you’d seen him last, his face seeming fuller and sharper as if he’d grown into himself, a shadow of stubble growing darker around his jawline.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” He comments, settling you back as he steps away from you, hands still gripping your forearms - his eyes seem to graze over you as if checking over.

“Yeah I-“ You clear your throat, voice seeming scratchy as your eyes find it impossible to leave him, “I’m just staying for a few days.”

“God, it’s good to see you,” His brows raise with his smile, a light laugh warming the space between you before Rafe seems to come back to himself, clearing his throat and letting go of his hold around your arms, one of his hands flying up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“I’ll leave your stuff down here if that’s okay, Rafe,” Sarah comments, “Are you sure you’re okay with sleeping on the couch?”

He turns away from you and takes a second to rejoin a conversation away from you, nodding, “Yeah, of course. We all know I slept in way worse places after drunk nights before.”

You’d learnt from Sarah that Rafe was completely sober now - he’d stopped the drinking and the drugs not long after you’d gone off to college, and Sarah still swore it was like a weird shift into his old self coming back. You weren’t sure that you knew what she meant - he’d always been Rafe to you.

“Alright, I’ll bring down some pillows and a blanket,” John B nods, jogging upstairs.

Before you can say anything else, your phone starts to ring on one of the side tables by the couch, buzzing loudly against the wooden surface. The screen flashes up with “James” accompanied by a blue heart emoji and a photo of the two of you on vacation that you still hadn’t removed.

“I-“ You feel your cheeks heat, “I should take this.”

You grab the phone and flee down the corridor, only answering the call when you’re outside, the door to the garden remaining ajar behind you.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N),” He returns, his voice seeming cold even through the speaker of your phone, “Are you still at Sarah’s?”

“Yeah I’m just staying here for a few days I-“

“Okay, I have more of your stuff to drop off,” James cuts in, “I’ll swing by and leave it at the front door.”

“James can we just-“

He hangs up then and the phone feels heavy in your hand, still lightly pressed against your ear as if any part of him still remained. Your heart seems to clench and your bottom lip quivers but you pierce your lips together tightly to stop it, clenching your nails into your palm until the slight sting centres you back into where you were. This morning had felt like a better day, a few steps forward, and within just a few short words you seemed to have tumbled all the way back to square one.

When you turn around and go back inside, it’s just Rafe left in the lounge.

“Where did-“

“Something to do with pregnancy,” Rafe narrows his eyes a little, a small smile on his lips, “But I have no idea what she actually said.”

You nod and wrap your arms around yourself, avoiding his gaze.

He frowns, standing up from the couch, “Is everything okay?”

You nod again.

“I saw you were reading To Kill A Mockingbird, do you like it? I realise I never asked you,” He picks up your copy from the table and brushes a thumb over the worn cover.

He’d given you that book when you’d graduated. You’d read it front to back at least four times since then, sometimes just reading the annotations that he’d put in the margins instead of the printed words on the page.

“It’s the one I gave you,” His brows drop as if in sudden realisation, and his eyes seem brighter like they’re swelling with the hints of pride in his heart, “I didn’t even realise it was the same one. I can’t believe you’ve still got this.”

You fiddle with the material on the sleeves of your jumper, noticing how it seems to scratch at your skin more now, “Yeah, same one.”

Rafe glances up and the pride in his eyes seems to etch towards worry, “(Y/N), what’s going on?”

You shake your head again, “Um, I think I’m going to go and lie down. I should probably give you a chance to settle in anyway, you’ve been travelling and everything.”

With a slight stumble over your words, you hurry towards the stairs, disappearing out of his sight before he has the chance to stop you.

~~~

Somewhere between then and now, you’d fallen asleep. You wake up hours later and the sun has shifted to the afternoon angle that meant it no longer came burning through the window in the spare bedroom. The house is quiet but you can hear the sound of conversation downstairs, quiet voices and hushed tones.

When you open your bedroom door, the conversation becomes clearer - Rafe and Sarah.

“She’s not herself, why won’t you tell me what’s happened?” Rafe says, and you can hear the worry injected into his words.

“Rafe, I can’t tell you for her, you’ve just got to wait until she’s ready to talk about it,” Sarah explains, “It’s been years since you two have seen each other, you can’t blame her for not wanting to talk to you about stuff yet.”

“We used to talk about everything, I knew everything about her,” Rafe returns, “I’ve just… I’ve missed her. And I’ve come back but it still feels like I haven’t got her back.”

You feel the weight settle and flutter on your chest, a weird combination between wanting to run down to him and run away from it all. It felt weird to have Rafe back when you felt so distant from yourself. The closest to him you’d been in years and yet feeling like the furthest from you.

One of the floorboards creaks beneath your feet and their conversation quickly ceases. You take that as your sign to go downstairs, feeling a little more human now that you’d caught up on another few hours of sleep.

“Hi honey,” Sarah smiles warmly, “There’s a box of stuff for you on the counter.”

“Of course there is,” You roll your eyes at her and she laughs a little, “Thank you.”

It’s an unlabelled box, likely one of the small ones you’d used to move into the house in the first place. But you take the lid on top as a sign to not open it - whatever was in there you probably didn’t want to be thinking about now. It could be opened on one of your bad days when you needed to cry. Until then, it could definitely be ignored.

“Alright I’m just going to call John B and get him to pick up some dinner on the way home,” Sarah comments, walking out of the kitchen and into the lounge instead.

Rafe is leaning back against one of the counters, a red solo cup in his hand, his eyes looking down as he swirls around the liquid in the cup.

“I thought you stopped drinking,” You comment, gesturing to his hands.

He chuckles a little and looks up at you, “Yeah, yeah, I did. It’s just water. This was the first cup I could find.”

You nod and walk over to him, leaning against the kitchen island opposite Rafe so that you were facing him, your arms folding over your chest.

“So, how’s New York?”

Rafe smiles, “Very different from home. Sometimes a good different, other times not so much. Just a lot to get used to, you know?”

You nod in agreement but don’t say anything.

“Makes me realise how much I miss from home.”

Your eyes find his again and both of you smile just enough for it to be visible. The air feels warmer between you, warmer still every time your eyes meet.

“So, you moved back here, to the Outer Banks, glad to come home?”

“I don’t-“ You purse your lips for a second, “I did, when I first got back. I don’t know anymore.”

He’s silent in return and your eyes lose contact, yours flicking to the floor. Rafe stretches out one of his feet and nudges at your ankle, tapping you, “Hey.”

You look up and let your eyes return to his, his gaze softening as his words quieten. The tension in you seems to relax just enough.

“What happened, (Y/N)?”

You feel the lump reform in your throat, the way it seems to constrict any chance you have of speaking, the way your muscles feel weaker, like you could crumble there and then, “I don’t know.”

The words come out barely audible, scratching from your tongue as your bottom lip trembles a little.

“One day we were fine, the next he told me it was over,” You half-laugh because you’re certain it’s the only way you can avoid crying, though tears are already blurring your vision, “I don’t know what happened.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe steps forward and pulls your arms from around your torso, guiding them around his back before wrapping his own arms around you too, letting your head bury onto his chest. He brings a hand up to your hair and keeps you close to him, tightening his hold on you as much as he possibly can.

You let yourself cry into him, tears staining the t-shirt as you grip onto the material at the back, holding him like you’re terrified that he’ll slip away too. Despite the way you need him to hold you, you’re sure that he needs you too - in the way his chin rests on top of your hair, the way he adjusts every few seconds as if reassuring himself that you couldn’t get any closer.

The pair of you stay like that for a short infinity, neither of you wanting to be the first to move, both of you certain that years of emotion is pouring into the single gesture, the single contact after years without. A short infinity.

~~~

That night, you sit down for dinner with Sarah, John B and Rafe. They all make sure that you fill your plate of food first, and encourage you to have the last slice of pizza. They look at you with a sense of relief on their features, like you were back just a little more than you had been. Rafe’s arm settles over the back of your chair, his other hand wrapped around a glass of water. He looks at you when you speak and chuckles deeply when you make a quiet joke. You feel the most human you’ve felt in years.

And when you go to bed that night, it feels less likely that you’ll be lying awake questioning everything, much more likely that you’ll sleep soundly. You change into your pyjamas - a baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts - and get under the covers, tugging them up to your neck.

Just then, there’s a knock at the door, a little tap like it isn’t sure if it wants to be heard.

“Come in,” You announce, pushing yourself to sit up a little against the headboard.

It’s Rafe on the other side, only his silhouette visible against the dark of the room, the light of the corridor illuminating him from behind, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” He whispers into the dark, “I was just downstairs and I realised you left this.”

His hands are wrapped around the copy of your book, the pages slightly folded at the corner.

“Oh, right, yeah, I forgot it,” You smile, “Thank you.”

“You just, you normally always read before bed,” He continues, bringing it over as the bedroom door starts to shut slowly behind him, “Well, you used to, I don’t know if you still do that anymore, I just remember when you used to- I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

You laugh a little and he sets the book down on your nightstand.

“So, you promise you’re okay?”

“I will be,” You return, watching as he stands awkwardly at the side of your bed, like he’s completely out of place, “Do you want to sit down?”

His mouth opens and closes like he’s not sure what to say but he nods, walking around to the other side of the bed and sitting down beside you, looking out of place still in his clothes from the day.

You’re both silent, illuminated by the slither of light coming through from the ajar bedroom door. On the far side of the room, there’s a vanity stretching across the wall, it’s scattered with a few of your belongings, and right in the middle sits the box that James had dropped off earlier.

Rafe nods his head in the direction of it, “So, have you opened that?”

You look at him and frown, “No, no I haven’t.”

“Don’t you want to know what he’s given you?”

You laugh a little, “I can tell you want to know. Go and get it, let’s open it.”

He chuckles and scrambles to stand up, grabbing the box and bringing it back over. Rafe settles himself back into the bed and sets the box down between the two of you, “Go on, you do the honours.”

You laugh and take the lid off. The box is only half full, littered with a few relatively meaningless things. There’s a couple of your tops, a jewellery box you took when you went on vacation, a couple of bracelets, a photoframe - empty, though that had once held a photo of you and James together.

“Holy shit! You kept this?” Rafe exclaims, picking up a shot glass that had been buried under a few things.

The glass had come from a night the two of you had snuck into the bar near the port. You’d managed to pick the lock on the door, spent hours just the two of you chatting and figuring out random drinks to make. Rafe had poured you shots of every liquor he could find and you’d shared each one, grimacing a little less with every shot as the alcohol started to take effect. You’d left some time after sunrise, managed to stumble your way down to the beach, and woke up hours later with the shot glass still held in your grasp. It had come with you to college, and came back when you moved back home. A little pocketed story that only you and Rafe knew.

“Of course I did,” You giggle, “That was a good night.”

Rafe traces his thumb around the top of the glass, “Yeah, it was I loved that night.”

“Do you remember it?” You scoff, “We were wasted.”

You remembered it. You were so sure he was going to kiss you, then. To kiss you for the first time that wasn’t controlled by a party game. To kiss you for the first time away from a party of laughing eyes. He’d looked at you like he was going to kiss you, but he never did. Though, when you slept, he’d linked his fingers with yours, squeezing three times before both of you fell asleep. His hand, just like the shot glass, had still been in yours hours later.

“I remember.”

The silence falls once again as both of you pick and pull at the rest of the objects in the box. Nothing takes much interest after that, but you find yourself instead drawn to what was missing.

“It’s not in here,” You mumble, pulling through the box one more time to check again.

“What isn’t?” Rafe frowns, “What’s not there?”

“It’s um-“ You clear your throat, glancing up at him, “It’s stupid really.”

He shakes his head, “It’s not stupid, what is it?”

“Do you remember that little giraffe I used to have? My nana got it for me when I was a kid, it’s not in here, and I couldn’t find it when me and Sarah got my stuff. It’s not here,” You frown again, taking out the shot glass and closing the lid on the rest of the box.

“Well, it’s got to be at the house somewhere,” Rafe shrugs, “We’ll find it.”

You half-laugh, setting the box down on the floor beside the bed, “What are we going to do? Break into the house?”

Your laugh continues but Rafe’s stops after a split second, shrugging his shoulders, “Let’s do it.”

You halt in your movements, looking at the way his eyes seem so set on you, like nothing could tear them away, “You’re serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

~~~

That’s how, within the hour, you’re walking up towards your old house, it looking eerie and dark in your absence, the flowers you’d planted outside looked dry even after a few days without you here and it bubbled a new sense of loss inside you, like a part you hadn’t thought you’d lose - a mundane part that just added to the rest.

“Do you still have a key?” Rafe hisses from beside you as you both walk up the driveway.

“No, I left it at home,” You return, glancing up at him.

“What?” Rafe raises his brows, “We came all the way here and yo-“

“Kidding,” You smile, pulling the key from your pocket, “This is still my house too until he settles everything.”

Rafe grins, “I like the way you think (Y/L/N).”

You step up to the door and go to unlock it. Rafe steps forward, his hand wrapping around yours before you can move. He looks at you and presses the index finger of his other hand to his lips, guiding his hand around yours to turn the key in the lock. The door creaks when it opens and you both wince, letting it close slowly behind you.

“Damn, this is a nice place,” Rafe whispers, glancing around the downstairs rooms of the house.

You look at him and roll your eyes, “That makes me feel better.”

He laughs quietly and clasps his hands together, widening his eyes at the quiet noise that seems to echo around the house, “So where are we going?”

“I don’t know where it would be,” You shake your head, “Maybe the lounge?”

He outstretches a hand, “Lead the way.”

You take Rafe’s hand in yours as the two of you go towards the lounge. You bump into the couch as you step into the room and he stumbles behind you, hands flying to your waist to stop you from falling.

“We’re not exactly pros at this,” Rafe laughs, letting you balance yourself again as you stand up, your back pressing against his chest.

You glance down at yourself, a baggy hoodie over a pair of shorts, a pair of crocs on your feet, and him, a pair of slacks and a checkered shirt with a couple of buttons undone. He steps back from you and glances around the dark room, pulling out his phone and flicking on the flashlight. It casts a circle of light across the room as you start to look around, noticing the empty spots where photos of the two of you used to decorate the space. There are a few takeout boxes sprawled over the coffee table and a line of empty beer cans, one of them rolling along the floor when you step beside it.

“I can’t see anything,” Rafe hisses, flashing the light in your direction before you squint at the sight, blocking the brightness from your eyes, “Ooh sorry I-“

You both freeze then as a light flicks on upstairs, the hallway light.

“Who’s that?” Rafe mouths in your direction and you look at him like it’s the worst thing you’ve heard, watching the realisation sink onto his face just a second later.

Before either of you can say anything, there’s the sound of feet padding down the stairs, picking up their pace as they near you. Rafe takes a stride across the room, bumping shoulders with you as he comes to a stop.

“Who the f-“ James rounds the corner, “(Y/N)? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I ju-“

“Rafe?” James interjects, “What? Did you hear (Y/N) was single and catch the next flight back?”

“Hey, no, that’s not what-“ You begin again.

“Fucking unbelievable,” James interrupts you again, “What are you doing in my house?”

“Cut it out, asshole. Stop interrupting her,” Rafe cuts in, and you can instantly sense his change in demeanour, the way he shifts on his feet, “And this is (Y/N)’s house too, you got that?”

James scoffs, folding his arms over his chest, “What? So you brought Rafe here to fight your battles?”

“No, no,” You blush at the discomfort, “I just needed some of my things. Well, no, not some, just one thing actually, it’s stupid, just a little thing… I just-“ You swallow the lump in your throat, “Seb. He wasn’t in the box of stuff.”

“What? That weird giraffe thing you brought everywhere,” James scoffs, “That’s really that important?”

“Um,” You laugh a little to relieve some of the awkward tension clenching your chest, “No, I guess it’s not important but we were just talking, well, we were looking through the box and we realised it wasn’t there and Rafe, um, Rafe said-“

“Rafe?” James scoffs, “You’re kidding, right?”

“Seriously, man, cut it out,” Rafe repeats, stepping forward just a little as if he’s protecting you, not enough to block you off but enough for you to know that he was there, “I don’t care if you don’t think it’s important, you’re done making her feel bad for things she cares about - do you understand that?”

James lets out a laugh that seems to echo around the room and scratch at your ears, sending an uncomfortable shiver up your spine, “How the hell do you know what she wants? What’s this? The first time you’ve been home in how many years?”

“Yeah, well, good timing I’d call it. Something about some asshole that didn’t realise how lucky he was,” Rafe cocks a brow.

“Rafe…” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re shrinking into the room but he looks back at you and nods just gently, reassuring you. And you’re surprised when it works, settling the fear in your heart.

“So what? You think you come back and know everything about her? Like you’re some sort of knight in shining armour?” James scoffs, “You don’t know jackshit about her, let alone our relationship.”

Rafe laughs and steps away from you, narrowing his eyes at James before letting out a slow breath, shaking his head as he walks the length of the room, “Oh you really are an asshole.”

James doesn’t say anything, watching as Rafe strides the room, a harsh air about him you were sure he hadn’t shown in years, perhaps since he’d last seen you.

“You’re dating a woman like (Y/N) for nine years. Nine years. Nine fucking years you had her there for you - picking up the phone when you’d call, letting you complain about your bad days, not thinking to mention it when your cooking was terrible, always always thinking of you before anything else. And what? That wasn’t good enough?”

“This is nothing to do with you Cameron,” James defends, shifting his stance.

“You hurt (Y/N),” Rafe steps forward until he is less than a foot from James, staring at him coldly, “That means it does have something to do with me. In fact, it has a hell of a lot to do with me.”

You’re watching the scene unfold as if it’s fiction, as if this is a cross between a dream and a nightmare that you were about to wake up from. This Rafe isn’t the same boy that he was with you, he’s never this cold with you. But with someone that had done you wrong? He was a completely different version of himself.

He’s close enough to James now that you’re practically counting down the seconds until he’ll swing a fist at him, it’s inevitable. But you shift in your spot and he glances back to look at you, his eyes softening when they meet with yours. His brows relax and the features of his face do with them, settling into himself a little. His lips smile a little against the tension in his jaw and he takes a deep breath in, turning back to James.

“I don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t know what you think you’re gaining from all of this. But we’re gonna go now,” Rafe’s words don’t shift from their blunt tone, each word feeling calculated and exact, “And you’re going to go to bed, in a house that’s not fully yours, in a bed you used to share. And you’re going to wake up the next morning and the morning after that and again and again, and every time you’ll be on your own. You might not realise it now, maybe not tomorrow or the day after, but you’ll realise it. You’ll realise that every single day you’re waking up without (Y/N) here, you’re missing the one damn thing that made your life worth it.”

He clenches his jaw again and watches as James swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes flicking to you.

“Oh, here it is,” Rafe reaches down to the couch and picks up the toy giraffe you’d been looking for, holding it in his hand, “Good seeing you, James.”

He hits your ex on his chest as if a friendly gesture but it knocks James back just enough for him to be reminded of his place. Rafe looks back at you and offers you the same smile as before, offering you your exit as you make your way over to him. He lets you step in front and places a hand to your back, guiding you out of the house, slamming the door behind the two of you. And for the first time since you’d left this house days ago, you feel alive.

[apocalypseornaw]

Meant to Be (Pt 1/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

You're Sam's best friend. That's the only connection you'll ever have to Dean...isn't it?

Warnings: cursing, mention of death. The usual

@lacilou s idea and I kind of ran with it

Also Bobby's alive past the Canon storyline cause I said so

You'd gotten dragged into hunting at a young age. Your aunt was your legal guardian and a full time hunter meaning you were raised bouncing between motel rooms much the same way Sam and Dean had. That was how you met them, Bobby may never have had his own kids but he had no issue in stepping in to help with both you and the Winchesters. When you were deemed too young to leave alone, too young to hunt you'd end up being dumped off at Bobby's.

You'd met Sam when both of you were ten and had gotten dropped off at Bobby's due to the flu. Your aunt had been mid hunt when she realized you were too sick to keep in a motel and Dean had demanded Sam be taken some where he could actually rest and get meds in him.

A quick friendship formed over the course of the next week while Bobby kept the two of you confinded to the living room. You both slept on the couch, curled up on opposite ends. Bobby would keep a schedule to meds that you both had to take along with feeding you enough soup to feed an army and constantly remind you both to drink more water.

When the week ended and your aunt along with Dean and John came to retrieve the two of you neither of you had wanted to leave each other's side, finally finding a friend that lived a similar life.

Your aunt and John ended up synching schedules on the three of you getting dropped off at Bobby's. Dean needed more training while you and Sam were just starting.

Dean was a smart mouthed fourteen year old, he didn't know why he had to get dropped off "like the little kids" he didn't want to train on the guns or knives with you and Sam, made fun of any movie the two of you watched and just seemed like he couldn't wrap his head around you being trained as a hunter.

You tried to be nice to him because he was your best friend's brother and you thought he was cute with his bright green eyes and splash of freckles.

Over the next few years you and Sam grew closer and Dean even started to accept you as a hunter and a friend of sorts. When Sam graduated high school with honors you were in the stands next to Dean, when you got your ged a couple months later they popped up at Bobby's to take you to dinner as a surprise.

While Sam was at Stanford you and him spoke regularly. You knew about the falling out between him and John when he'd headed for college. You'd encouraged Sam to chase his dreams outside of hunting, he deserved it.

You never told Sam how often Dean would track your most recent number down to check on him. You didn't mind Dean calling but seeing him was an entirely different story, the smart mouthed fourteen year old who was "kind of cute" and didn't quite get females as hunters had turned into a twenty five year old with a smirk that made your knees weak and a swagger that made women throw themselves at him no matter where he was.

--------------

You would never admit under torture to the crush you had on the eldest Winchester brother. You told yourself it would go away and it was easily buried for years after all dealing with loss after loss and an apocalypse or two would push anything to the back burner.

You had assumed the feelings were remnants of the fact that Dean had been your first actual crush. Over the years you'd had a few boyfriends here and there and as most hunters a few hookups under your belt as well. Hell Dean had more than a few hookups under his belt and had taken a year off hunting when he'd thought Sam was dead to be with Lisa. You had gotten over the feelings for Dean or so you'd thought anyways.

-------------

What pushed you back fully into the Winchesters' gravitational pull was when you'd gotten hurt on a hunt. A damn tulpa of all things. The embarrassment of getting rolled by something that only existed because a certain number of people believed in it was horrendous. What was even worse was the fact that while you were recovering at Bobby's he'd given you am ultimatum, find a hunting partner or quit.

"Bobby I've only ever been a hunter. I don't know anything else" you'd argued and he'd come right back with "Yeah and I've done lost too much to lose you. Please, I promised your aunt when you were just a kid I'd look after you. This is me looking after you"

You'd given up after that. Two days later Sam and Dean had rolled through Sioux Falls. Bobby had brought up wanting you to have a hunting partner and before Sam could agree to it Dean had spoke up "Hunt with us Y/N. You'd a damn good hunter I've seen you in action. You're Sam's best friend plus me and you get along"

You tried to ignore the little flip your stomach gave when he'd smiled at you, those green eyes as mesmerizing as always. "We'll do a trial run. I'll hang with you two for a few weeks and see if the dynamic can work full time" he'd grinned at that almost as if he'd taken your words as a challenge "Oh sweetheart. I'm a delight to be around and you know it"

You'd rolled your eyes and told Sam "Your brother is too damn full of himself" Sam had laughed and teased both of you by saying "Gee thanks Bobby for recommending me be with these two all the time"

@lacilou

[asdfghjklmals]

WHEREVER YOU ARE✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff, angst. WORD COUNT: 3.6k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, established couple. adoptedkiddo! tsumiki.

SYNOPSIS: tsumiki wants to study abroad for high school, but satoru gojo is against it. will satoru let tsumiki go? AUTHOR'S NOTE: ***manga spoilers*** because of what happened to tsumiki in the manga, i decided to write a more wholesome version of what i would think tsumiki would've wanted to do. she is going to make small appearances and still have her name mentioned in my future fics, but this is dedicated to her. and because i think satoru loved having her as his child 💚 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

you sat down on the couch, “satoru, we need to talk.”

“i swear, babe, it wasn’t megumi’s fault.” he stared at you innocently with his hands raised.

“megumi?” you looked at him, brows furrowed and confused, “no, babe, we need to talk about tsumiki.”

satoru sighed in relief, glad he didn’t get himself in trouble. he didn’t want you to find out about megumi getting sent to the principal’s office for fighting at school today. that was another lecture for another day.

“what’s going on with my favorite child?” satoru joked, putting his arm around your shoulder.

you explained the situation to satoru, “now that tsumiki is graduating middle school, we had a grown adult talk about her future plans. she told me she wants to study abroad for high school. she wants to learn english so she can teach kids here in japan after she graduates.”

“absolutely not. she’s staying here.” satoru said without even thinking. no reasoning to support his decision.

“but babe, i think it’s a good idea. she’s 15 and starting high school next year. there are good study abroad programs out there. and it's great to live in country of the language you want to the learn.” you said, trying to justify tsumiki’s decision to satoru.

“no, (y/n).” he said sternly. since when did he ever directly call you by your first name instead of a petname? and since when did he want to play patriarch? you were usually the shot-caller in this household.

it was time for the back up plan if all else failed. kisses. you grabbed satoru’s hand and peppered it with your soft lips. “please? for me and tsumiki?”

he looked at you and took his hand away. you stared back at him in disbelief, “satoru gojo, what is your problem today?” even the government name didn’t make him flinch like it usually did.

he never acted like this, even when he disagreed with you, he was usually calm and rational. he would have data and reasons to back up his decisions, but not today.

“i just don’t think a 15 year old girl needs to go study abroad in another country without her guardians.” he said bitterly, “and that’s final.”

he removed his hand from your thigh and got up from the couch, leaving you alone in the living room as he made his way to the patio to join catoru in the sun. your jaw dropped. what was wrong with him today?

later that night: tsumiki's room

“(y/n), did you ask gojo-sensei if i can study abroad?” tsumiki asked curiously as you towel dried her long brown hair for her. she had spent the last week convincing you about letting her attend a private academy in california, and you were totally on board with it until satoru shot you down earlier today.

“i did… he wasn’t too happy to hear what i had to say though.” you frowned at her. she looked at you with sad eyes.

“what did he say?”

“he thinks that you’re too young to study abroad and that you should stay here in japan with us.”

“i’m not a baby, (y/n).” tsumiki said, “why can’t gojo-sensei see that i can take care of myself?”

you thought out loud, “maybe because you’re his little girl... his partner in crime. he doesn’t want to lose that. you know what a softie he is.”

“yeah, but it’s not like i'll be gone forever! i can come home for the semester breaks and i’ll always have my cell phone with me!”

“i know, sweetheart. coming from how i grew up, i think this would be a great experience for you.” you commented as you thought about how you wanted to attend jujutsu high instead of being homeschooled when you were tsumiki’s age. (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

tsumiki sighed in defeat, “can’t you give him a kiss or something? he never says no to you.”

“believe me, i tried.” you chuckled, “he pushed me away and said no.” you and tsumiki both knew satoru gojo's weaknesses.

“what?!” tsumiki gasped, “that man is so obsessed with you and he did what?!”

“i know, that’s the last time he’ll be getting any kisses from me.” you stated, sitting down on her bed.

“well, that’s just mean.” satoru interrupted your girls only conversation. his tall frame leaning against tsumiki's bedroom door, arms folded.

tsumiki smiled, “oh, hi gojo-sensei!”

“hi tsumiki.” satoru greeted her, sitting down on her bed next to you. tsumiki sat on the floor. “(y/n) says you have something you wanted to talk to me about.”

"oh... yes!" tsumiki nervously laughed, scratching the back of her head. "well, since i'm graduating middle school, i wanted to ask you and (y/n) if i can attend this boarding school in california. it's called e.f. academy."

"okay, if you're going to go this far away, you're going to have to convince me. so tell me more." satoru encouraged her.

"well..." tsumiki started to word vomit, "it's a private high school academy with small classes. they have a lot of extra curricular activities and travel opportunities. they'll prepare me for college. they have advisors that i can talk to if we need anything..."

"tsumiki, can't you do all of this here? why do you have to go so far away?" satoru asked. this was his way of being 'reasonable'. he was starting to ask questions so he could make the best decision.

tsumiki was smart and calculated, just as you and satoru raised her to be. she started her rebuttal, "you and (y/n) have always taught me and megumi that we are not going to grow if we don't step out of our comfort zone. you even told megumi to be greedier, so this is me being greedy."

satoru nodded his head, "okay. give me a week to think about it. don't bother (y/n) and don't ask her to give me kisses because that's unfair."

you smiled as you watched satoru and tsumiki talk. they were really a father-daughter duo, partners in crime, two peas in a pod. you missed the days where your 6 year old adopted daughter used to keep your 18 year old boyfriend in check.

"really? you'll really think about it?" tsumiki asked satoru with a hopeful gleam in her eye.

"yes. i promise." he answered.

tsumiki stuck out her pinky as satoru laughed. he intertwined his pinky with hers, both of them kissing their pinkies to seal the deal. (read 'pinky promises' here)

one week later: satoru's office

satoru knew that he only had one week to make a decision that would change his life and ultimately, tsumiki's life. megumi and you were all for tsumiki studying abroad, while he was the only one against it.

"she's the only one that doesn't have cursed energy. she can't see curses and she can't attend jujutsu high with us." megumi's comment ran through satoru's mind. it was true, being the only one who couldn't see curses or practice jujutsu in the family could feel alien. but tsumiki never expressed that she felt alone.

satoru sighed while he sat in his expensive office chair. he knew that he was going to have to give tsumiki an answer today. he still wanted to say no, but his heart knew the right decision was to say yes and let her be free to be her own person.

he heard a knock on his office door. the four signature knocks signaling it was you (or him). ten years later, that has never changed.

"gojo-sensei?" your saccharine voice called out for him as you opened his door.

he greeted you with a bright flashy smile, "i love it when you call me that."

you rolled your emerald green eyes at him as you made your way towards his desk, sitting against it. "did you make a decision yet?"

"i'm thinking about it." he mused.

"you know our baby girl is waiting for an answer. she's at cheer practice right now, so she should be home at 6 today." you commented.

"let me take one last walk and i promise i'll be home on time for dinner." satoru huffed. you leaned down to kiss him before heading back to your office. he grabbed your hand, stopping you.

"wait, can i get another kiss?" he requested with a shit-eating grin.

your radiant laugh filled his office. he peeked one of his shiny blue eyes out of his blindfold. you turned back around to grab his chin with your hand.

"see you at home." you whispered, kissing him again fervently.

***************************************

satoru decided to take the long way home instead of teleporting. he wanted the last couple hours to himself to think.

why was he so against tsumiki studying abroad? he thought about the conversation he had with you last night.

"i think you have abandonment issues, satoru. that's why you won't let tsumiki leave japan." you realized as he pulled you closer to him in bed, your gentle hand resting against his bare chest.

"hmmm. you think so?" he mumbled, pulling your chin up for a sweet peck on the lips.

"i know so."

abandonment. the first person who came to satoru's mind was suguru geto, his bestfriend. the original partner in crime. a person who he loved and cared about til' this day.

"losing suguru really changed you, babe. and that's okay. you've become a better man because of it." you said softly.

"i guess you're right." satoru acknowledged. he sighed deeply and closed his eyes. he felt your delicate breathing against his skin as he fell asleep.

it was true, what you had said. satoru didn't want to be left behind again. even though he knew that tsumiki wasn't actually leaving him behind, he didn't like the fact that another person he loved and cared about wasn't going to always be present in his life.

he knew that if he kept her here, she would just grow up pushing him away or maybe even resenting him. and he couldn't have that. he knew what he had to do. he was going to let tsumiki go.

later that night: family dinner

"so... did you make a decision, gojo-sensei?" tsumiki interjected at dinner.

yours and megumi's green eyes met at the dinner table. the ball was in satoru's court now.

"i did, sweetheart." satoru said calmly. you and megumi extremely curious, tsumiki's heart beating quickly.

"you can go."

"really?!" tsumiki jumped out of her chair.

"really." satoru confirmed.

tsumiki cheered and squealed in delight. running to hug satoru. she ran to her room and grabbed her acceptance letter to show the white haired sorcerer.

"you already have an acceptance letter?" megumi questioned his sister.

"they have a 99% acceptance rate, so it doesn't matter. but i wanted to show gojo-sensei anyways." she beamed.

"i guess they just let anyone into that school." megumi muttered. you kicked him under the table as he shot a glare black at you.

"when is the first day?" satoru asked you and tsumiki.

you answered, "classes start in two weeks. i already bought our plane tickets and made sure our passports were good to go, tsumiki has her student visa ready as well."

"you already bought our plane tickets?" satoru questioned, chuckling, "and what were you going to do if i said no?"

"i knew you wouldn't have said no, babe. you can't say no to me or tsumiki to save your life." you grinned.

"she's right about that." megumi added. tsumiki nodding in agreement. she did get catoru because satoru said yes. (read 'the purrr-fect approach' here)

"i can definitely say no to (y/n)." satoru defended himself as his family ganged up on him.

you picked up your empty plate, and walked to satoru side, "can i get a kiss before i start the dishes?"

"sure, babe." he replied with no hesitation as he gave you a quick peck, unaware of your tricky mind games.

"see? you can't say no." you laughed as you picked up the rest of the empty dinner plates and utensils.

"what did i say about using kisses as a weapon?!" satoru complained. "that's so unfair!"

the dining room was filled with laughter from you, megumi, tsumiki, and satoru.

two weeks later: tsumiki fushiguro takes california

satoru was glued to tsumiki by the hip for the past two weeks. they went shopping together for all her academic needs, for new clothes, a laptop, and a new matching backpack and suitcase. they went to get their hair cut together, and even got their nails done together (satoru loved getting pedicures, you thought it was because of the foot massages). he wanted to spend as much time with tsumiki as possible before parting ways.

orientation for tsumiki's school was a two day event. during the first day, the families would be given a tour of the school and then everyone would attend a social hour to get to know the faculty and other students. the second day, the families would help their student move into their dorms and say their goodbyes until semester break in the late fall, early winter.

during the first day of orientation, tsumiki had already started to make friends. she was just like you. beautiful, nice, caring, friendly. people wanted to be around her and wanted to be her friend. you and satoru watched from the sidelines of the gymnasium as tsumiki mingled with her new classmates.

"are you still worried about her? she's already getting used to things here." you tried to comfort satoru as you watched your future high schooler.

"i was hoping she'd beg us to take her home." satoru frowned. you smacked his chest playfully with the back of your hand.

"mr. and mrs. gojo," a student aide approached the both of you, "can you sign these papers for tsumiki? these are the final documents for admissions."

"sure thing." satoru replied, grabbing the clipboard and pen from the student aide. you waited until they walked away to turn to satoru.

"mr. and mrs. gojo. what did you think about that?" you sneered.

satoru chuckled as he signed the document, "sounds like music to my ears."

"give me a 10 carat diamond ring first, babe." you grinned as satoru handed you the clipboard to sign the document too.

satoru gojo would give you the world if you asked for it.

"(y/n)! gojo-sensei!" tsumiki shouted from across the gymnasium to catch your attention. she waved while pointing at the two of you. she was showing her new friends who her cool and awesome parents were. you and satoru waved back at her, giving her both of your world-class smiles.

***************************************

satoru used blue to hold up all of tsumiki's luggage as the three of you made your way to the dorm room that tsumiki would be staying in. you and satoru paid extra to make sure that she would get her own room. you sat down on the empty bed, tsumiki joining you.

"what do you think, sweetheart?"

"with a little extra decorating, i can make it look like my room at home." she said with a bright smile.

you and satoru helped put on the bed spread, duvet cover, and pillow cases while tsumiki unpacked her clothes and placed them into her small dresser.

you could feel satoru tensing up, his cursed energy spiking every now and then. he was dreading saying goodbye to tsumiki. whenever he would look at you, you would give him a soft smile and rub his back in reassurance.

"gojo-sensei, (y/n), look what megumi gave me for my dorm room." tsumiki's brown eyes twinkled as she showed you a pink sparkly picture frame.

the picture frame contents were of the four of you. it was a recent picture from tsumiki's 15th birthday. you had your arms around megumi while satoru had his arms around tsumiki. it was a rare occasion that megumi was smiling in a picture. tsumiki's signature bright smile lit up the picture. you could feel the love radiating from the frame.

"megumi says that this picture will be a reminder of home and that you all love me."

"he's right." you patted her head, brushing her brown hair. "are you sure you want to do this? it's not too late to change your mind. we can go back home if you want."

"no, i'm sure!" tsumiki said confidently.

you laughed, "you're breaking satoru's heart, baby girl." you hugged satoru, his arms were folded as he quietly laughed, shaking his head.

***************************************

you and satoru spent your last couple of hours with tsumiki reminiscing about her younger days and what kind of child she was growing up.

"remember the day that satoru lost you and megumi at kanda matsuri? i was going to have a heart attack."

satoru shot you a glare, "in my defense, there are thousands of people at that festival. it's one of japan's big three festivals! they were like four feet tall at the time! i told you we needed to get them those child leashes."

"you were such a responsible girl, going to the lost and found." you ignored satoru and laughed, remembering that tsumiki went to the lost and found to have the festival employee announce 'satoru gojo, can you please come to the lost and found to pick up your children'.

"remember the one day gojo-sensei forgot your anniversary?" tsumiki peered at satoru, giggling.

"oh god... don't bring that up." satoru hid his face in his hands.

"what was that? our third year of dating?" you asked satoru, "and your cute 9 year old partner in crime saved you that day. she went to the flower shop down the street and bought lilies with your credit card."

"then how did you find out that i forgot if she saved me?" satoru interrupted you.

"because you always get me roses, even though my favorite flowers are lilies. not only is tsumiki responsible, she's extremely thoughtful." (read 'lilies and roses' here)

"remember when tsumiki brought me a homemade lunch for teachers day?" satoru smiled at the fond memory. tsumiki was only 8 years old when satoru got an official teaching position at jujutsu high.

"it was her idea too," you reminded satoru, "she asked me to help her bring your lunch to the school that day. our baby girl is so caring. what did we do to deserve such an amazing daughter?" you gushed at your 15 year old, hugging her tightly. tsumiki just smiled and laughed like she always did.

"i think i'm the lucky one too! what did me and megumi do to deserve such loving adoptive parents?!" she remarked.

"all you two had to do was look cute. that's why i picked you two up off the streets." satoru joked. (read 'learn to love' here)

you heard a knock on tsumiki's dorm door, tsumiki opening it. the resident assistant announced, "curfew is starting soon. parents are going to be saying goodbye to their students in the courtyard."

you felt satoru's cursed energy spike again. he wasn't ready for this moment, and honestly, neither were you. you weren't sure what was going to break your heart the most: letting tsumiki go or watching satoru leave a piece of his (still) healing heart behind.

you and satoru quietly followed behind tsumiki as she confidently led the way to the courtyard. it was like she belonged here at the academy the way she navigated through the halls. the courtyard was dimly lit, the california skyline in the background, clouds kissing the top of the city buildings.

you watched as satoru sneakily wiped his tears away from his cerulean blue eyes. he crouched down, softly smiling at tsumiki.

“you gonna be okay without your partner in crime?” he asked her.

as strong as tsumiki was, her brave face started to falter. her warm brown eyes brimmed with tears as she ran into satoru’s arms for one last hug before you and satoru had to leave the campus.

tsumiki babbled through her tears, “thanks for letting me come to school here… i promise i’ll study really hard... i love you and (y/n) so much. you two are the best mom and dad ever.”

satoru scoffed through his tears and continued to hold her. you put a reassuring hand on satoru’s shoulder, joining them for a group hug. tsumiki looked up at the both of you with flushed cheeks.

you kissed the top of her precious head, an action that she never grew out of (and you hoped she never would). you smiled back at her with tears in your eyes, “wherever you are, baby girl, satoru and i will always be one call away. we love you and we’re so proud of you, tsumiki.”

"no boyfriends, please." satoru added with a chuckle. he didn't think he could handle another heart attack.

EXTRA:

"did you see how much tuition costs at tsumiki's boarding school?" you asked satoru as he sat down in his first class airline seat.

"no, i didn't even bother check the brochure they handed us at orientation." satoru stretched his long legs, "how much could a high school tuition cost? one or two thousand a year?"

you just laughed at his ridiculous comment. you were amused at how naive he was.

"what? why are you laughing?"

"try seventy, babe." you stared at him. satoru looked like he was going to have a brain aneurysm.

"seventy what? seventy dollars or seventy thousand?"

you annunciated each word clearly so he could understand you. "seventy. thousand. dollars. a. year."

satoru fake-clutched his chest, "we have to go back and withdraw her, immediately."

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[melrodrigo]

Tardy, part 8

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: An unexpected family member reveal sends you spiraling, will anyone trust you now?

Warnings: Angst that turns into fluff, mention of violence, mention of sex

Word Count 2.6k

A/N: I was dying writing this chapter (both physically and mentally) but I think the writers block is gone! Thank you for 600 followers!! As always, love u guys, and tell me what you think <33

“Mom, who’s my dad?” You asked absentmindedly, legs swinging from your living room couch.

“All the other kids at school know who their dad is, who’s mine?” You continued, blissfully unaware of the tension you had just created.

Your mom turned sharply, cigarette between her lips as she spoke.

“Oh, sweetie. Your dad’s gone. It’s just you and me now.” She said as she brought the lighter up and ignited the cigarette.

“What do you mean he’s gone?” You’d asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Your mom lets out a frustrated huff before she answers again.

“I don’t know, he’s just gone. Okay? He left town. Would you leave this topic alone now?” She sounded annoyed, and you don’t want to upset her any further, so you nodded quickly and turned your attention back to the TV screen.

“Okay, Ma.”

-

You flash back into another memory, this time you’re older; freshly graduated from high school, ready to move across the country to start university.

You’ve bid your farewells to friends and relatives, promising you’ll come visit every year.

Your mom’s pulling you aside looking at you weirdly. She’s getting old, you can tell by the increasing wrinkles on her face every day.

She smiles softly, and you think she looks like the sweetest grandma ever.

“Honey, I want you to know something. About your dad.”

You raise an eyebrow, mouth dropping slightly.

Your dad has always been a touchy subject for your mom, she’s never really allowed herself to tell you the full story.

Sure, as you’ve gotten older, you’ve learned bits and pieces. He was a dirtbag, leaving your mom right after she gave birth. You’d also learned that you were born in a small town called Woodsboro but had been whisked away almost immediately.

Your mom sighs now, and everything suddenly feels very heavy.

“I just tried so hard to be both parents for you, I know it wasn’t fair to keep this from you for so long. But if you’re ready to learn who your dad is, I’m ready to tell.” She says, voice cracking only the tiniest bit. You can see how strong she’s trying to be.

You suddenly see your whole childhood flash before your eyes. Your mom sending you off and picking you up every day after school. Making meals for the two of you every night, working overtime to support the family.

“No Ma. It’s okay. I already have a dad, and his name is you.” You say, pointing to her heart.

She opens her mouth but you cut in before she can say anything.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need a dad when I have you.” You say, and you mean it wholeheartedly.

Your mother swells with happiness and takes you in a big hug. Wraps her arms around your shoulders.

“Be safe, honey.” She whispers into your ear.

-

You splutter, staring at the page in front of you with a jumble of letters that don’t look like coherent words anymore.

No…it couldn’t be?

There’s no way your dad was Stu Fucking Macher.

It doesn’t feel like you expected it would, finding out who your real father is. Years and years of endless crying; wondering why and why and why.

Every moment has led up to this.

This light, breakable paper in your palms. It’s telling you all you’ve ever wanted to hear, and yet somehow it’s also the thing you need to hear the least.

There’s quick flashes of déjà vu as you stare at the name.

Blood; lots of it. Splattered on the ceiling, all over your body. Screams, loud and clear as day, piercing through your eardrums and starting a ringing sound.

You snap back into reality as Sam steps up to you.

You brace yourself for the worse, you wouldn’t be mad if Sam kicked you out bare into the street right then and there, hell, she could hurt you and you wouldn’t even be mad.

She raises her hand but the impact never comes. Instead, she kneels down to you and holds your shoulders tight.

“It’s okay. I know it’s hard.” She says, soft. Her lips are pulled into a frown but her eyes are sorrowful.

“It’s- it’s okay?” Tara splutters, staring between you and her sister. Flabbergasted would be a minuet way to describe her expression.

“Yes. It’s okay. Can everyone leave the room for a minute? I want to talk to YN.” Sam says, and everyone heeds her orders; shuffling down through the living room hallway.

You stare at Sam, eyebrows knit tight together. She’s hated you since you the day you met, and now she’s the one protecting you?

“Why?” You ask, curiosity seeping through your voice.

“Everyone here has been through something.” She says, biting her lip. “And believe me, if anyone knows about being framed as the bad guy, it’s me.”

She hesitates a little before she opens her mouth again.

“Let’s not pretend that everyone here doesn’t have immensely traumatic things happen to them. Me and Tara…well we know about that. But Mindy and Anika and Chad? You wouldn’t believe the stories I’ve heard from them.” She says, twiddling with her thumbs.

“What if I’m actually the killer?” You press, gauging Sam’s reaction.

She tuts and answers sharply.

“I don’t believe for a second that you are.”

It takes you aback, her being so sure about it. You stay quiet, try to think of anything to say.

You can’t, it’s all too much information to get.

“How can you know that?” You say finally, tilting your head up to make eye contact with Sam.

She pats your back lightly. “You’re a good person YN. We can all tell.”

“We’re a family. One fucked up family, but family all the same. Including you.” She says, voice sure.

You hold eye contact for a while, a silent conversation being spoken. Setting aside all your differences, Sam was actually a really cool person. And you can tell she feels the same way.

Before you know it she’s out down the same hallway the group left in.

You’re sat on the couch, mouth open and eyes glazed.

Huh.

“YN? Mind if I come in?” Tara’s voice sounds from in front of you. You can’t decipher what the tone is.

“Yeah…yeah of course.” You answer, watching as Tara enters and stands before you.

You can’t handle her intense stare, and you drop your head immediately. Anxiety floods you, heart picking up speed.

You don’t notice her until she’s right in front of you, taking your cheeks in her hands. Stroking, softly.

10 minutes ago she was mad, and now she’s comforting you? This girl and her mixed signals.

“I believe you.” She murmurs, leaning down to press her lips on your cheek. She’s so short that even when you’re sitting down you’re almost the same height.

You don’t want to think about any of this now, you don’t want to think about it ever. You want to tell Tara this, but you can’t bring yourself to speak.

Your throat feels dry, eyes slightly teary.

“So what do we do now?” You whisper.

She continues stroking your face fondly, cradles you in her arms.

“We continue with the plan.” She says, and there’s a sense of finality in it that makes you shiver.

-

They’ve pushed back the date on their plan to capture Ghostface a little bit. Tara won’t admit it, but you know she’s the one who suggested it. She must think you need time to process the sudden father reveal, no doubt.

It’s sweet, but she’s wrong. In fact, right now all you need is a distraction. Something to take your mind off all the racing thoughts through your head, the sense of betrayal you feel.

Maybe I should call my mom.

“Hey. Whatcha thinking bout?” A voice sounds from behind you. It’s Anika, and you send her a soft smile; feeling weirdly glad to be in her company.

“Oh nothing much. Just about how my dad was one of the original Ghostfaces and that we’re literally running straight into danger in a few days.” You say, trying to make your voice sound light and teasing.

Anika seems to pick up on the underlying message, and you hear her sigh a little before speaking.

She rounds the couch to come sit down beside you, a pack of medical supplies in her arms. She splays it across the table and turns back to face you.

“If it makes you feel any better, I know what it’s like to have a rough family. My parents were…dipshits to say the least.” She says, casually.

Oh.

You try and think of something appropriate to say in response, but your brain seizes up and it goes blank.

“But you don’t have to feel bad for me. I have a new family now.” She continues, smiling at you; genuine crinkles at the tips of her eyes. She pats your back lightly.

“Just so you know, I don’t think you’re the killer. Who cares if your dad is Ghostface? It’s not like this is the first time it’s happened in our friend group. I trust you, really.”

It’s enough to make you teary-eyed again. You look away, hoping she can’t see them.

“Thank you.” You mumble. “That means a lot to me.”

She chuckles warmly before taking you in a hug. You guys don’t say anything the rest of the time she fixes up your wound.

-

“Are you blushing?” Tara asks immediately when Anika leaves the room, footsteps light.

“What? No, I’m not.” You say, running a hand through your hair.

“Did she make you blush?” She’s asking, a teasing smile on her lips.

You frown.

“She just said some very nice things to me, okay?” You huff, cross your arms like a child.

“Aw, baby. You look adorable.” She murmurs, giving you a peck on the lips.

“Are you not jealous?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow at her.

She brings a finger to her lips and feigns thoughtfulness. Then she smiles wide and takes your lips in a searing kiss.

“No.” She mumbles against them. “Because I know you’re mine. And I can definitely make you do a lot more than blush.”

It’s enough to make you flush completely red. You let out a little whine at her words.

“See?” She’s asking as she leans back, a smirk on her lips. You try and wipe it off by wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in for another kiss.

She’s not wrong. But you’re not going to admit that. It’s a fatal flaw, really. How easily you relent when it comes to Tara. You’d die for her, you’d kill for her, and she knows it.

“Come on,” She’s whispering. “Let’s go to my room.”

You pull back, amused.

“I don’t think I can even stand and you’re asking me to do what?” You ask pointedly.

She tugs on your shirt, obviously not in the mood to play one of your games right now.

“Then maybe I’ll just take you right here.” She whispers into your ear, laughing as you shiver beneath her.

You gulp, stare at her with big eyes. She crawls forward, leaning her elbows into your sides on instinct.

You can’t help but wince.

It seems to break Tara out of her lustful haze, because now she’s looking at you with worried eyes.

She’s getting up kind of panicky, fiddling with her hands.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I should let you sleep.” She says, sort of fast, words tumbling out of her.

You smile at her, grip her hands tight.

“It’s okay, Tara. Although, I do want to hit the hay for a while. Care to join me?” You invite, tugging her closer slightly to make sure she doesn’t leave.

She grins shyly and nods.

“Okay.” She says, biting the inside of her cheek. She’s the cutest with the excitement that radiates off her.

-

When you wake, Tara’s not in your arms anymore. You stir, rubbing your eyes aggressively.

“Tara?” You groan, trying to look around the weirdly dim room for any sign of your girlfriend.

You notice the candles immediately, more than a dozen of them lining the table and making a little pathway to the fireplace.

Your girlfriend appears in front of you now, wearing a little white sundress; one you’d specifically bought for her weeks ago.

She looks so good, you almost start drooling. Like an angel, the way she’s standing and staring at you, playful, excited gaze.

“I was wondering when you were going to wake up.” She grins, bending down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“What is all this?” You question, looking around the room in further inspection.

There are two plates set up quite nicely on the dining table, along with a bottle of champagne and a single flower in the middle.

It’s all so, romantic.

Tara twirls, and gives you a little show of her dress. Then she takes your hand and gently helps you up, leading you to the dining room with her.

“I never got to take you on a date. I think it’s time I return the favor.” She says, nodding along to her sentence; like a reassurance.

“You’re adorable.“ You say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. She blushes a little.

“Thank you.” She mumbles.

The smell as you enter the dining room is mouth-watering. You recognize it immediately. It’s your favorite pasta, ravioli with white wine and tomatoes.

Tara’s an amazing cook, you know this already. But the flavors that explode in your mouth when you take a bite out of it are otherworldly.

“This is the best thing you’ve ever cooked.” You speak through stuffed cheeks, eyes wide and happy.

Tara picks up a piece of her own and eats it.

“I didn’t know what to make you, so I called your mom. She said this was your favorite, so I went on youtube and tried to replicate the recipe.” She says, somewhat shyly.

You beam.

“You called my mom?” You ask, teasingly. Boop her on the nose. You celebrate internally when you see her flush red.

“Yeah, it was no biggie. Just a phone call.” She disregards, biting her bottom lip to try and stop the color that’s overtaking her whole face.

She reaches forward to grab another piece of ravioli before she stops short and gasps.

“Oh! I almost forgot to give you these.” Tara says, reaching behind her chair for something. She pulls out a huge bouquet of flowers, filled with your favorites.

You don’t try and hide the surprise in your face, mouth open and gaping.

She slaps your arm lightly at your reaction.

“Hey! I can be romantic too you know.”

You nod sarcastically.

“Oh yeah no doubt no doubt.” You say, taking the bouquet from her hands in favor of bending over the table and kissing her.

“Thank you, baby.” You say against her lips. She smiles wide, scrunching her nose as she pulls back.

“You taste like pasta!” She’s giggling, pushing you back into your chair.

You finish the dinner in record time, and that’s due entirely to how good the meal was. You and Tara sit and talk for a little while before moving to the floor to watch a movie.

Tara’s annoyingly secretive about it, not letting you see whatever she’s setting up. You huff and go grab snacks from the fridge instead.

When you get back it’s to the TV covered, and there’s a small projector at the side shining light on a random bed sheet she’s hung vertically.

“Impressive speed.” You praise.

Tara’s sitting smugly, arms open and inviting you to come sit.

It’s playing 10 Things I Hate About You, one of your all-time favorite movies. You settle down into the spot next to her and sneak a glance over, but she’s already staring at you; hard.

You let out a breath of happiness and pull her closer by the waist. Kiss her on the forehead, murmur against her skin.

“Thank you for this. I needed it.”

She nods into you and pulls you impossibly closer.

“Of course.” She says.

You decide Ghostface can wait, your dad can wait. All that matters right now is Tara. Her and this movie and you.

The only three things that exist in the world.

[i01sung]

Fear of love - Jungwon

Childhood best friend

════════════ ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ════════════

Your small town has done nothing but made life a little less bright. The possibilities of a day dreamed life suddenly turn into days of endless darkness and misery. The only thing keeping you going is one person, your childhood best friend. Parents who were friends slowly growing a bond between you and their son jungwon. He always hid in the living room smushed into the corner cushions of the couch, while your parents spoke about work life and bragged about the future lives they imagined for you both. He always looked down as if he didn’t know what he wanted for himself. The decision to interact with him taking him to the backyard to play hide n seek brought a future of afterschool walks and studying at each other’s houses. He was the only one who understood you, the chaos of high expectations between both families led you both to bond in ways others wouldn’t know. Often people in school mistook your friendship for a relationship, he always laughed it off and told them you both were just best friends. But within you had grown feelings for the boy you didn’t know how to express, the worries of ruining your friendship weighed heavier than the possible future of a relationship. Suppressing those emotions slowly swallowing you whole as the days passed. His small interactions of putting his arm around your shoulder or ruffling your hair laughing with a bright smile made your heart flutter like no other.

The day was close to ending, grabbing our books from our lockers. Jungwon being just at the other end of the hall waving goodbye to classmates whom he grew fond of over the years. We were now in our last year of school, graduation growing closer and the unexpected reality of what were to happen of us was suddenly closer then we thought. College was in the question now, finals, life close to actually starting. Leaving you to ponder if your friendship with him was strong enough to make it through all these soon to be life changing battles. As you look up from the door of your locker the boy approaches you, he seemed ready to finally make his way home so you two could study together as always. But your mind was too clouded with what if’s to think about the usual everyday after school hang out.

“Jungwon?”

“Yes?” He responded turning to focus his attention on you.

“Where do you think we will be in the future?”

He paused for a moment looking around the hall taking a deep breath. Your worries of the unknowing future and not living in the present was always the dividing factor in the close bond you both had. He always made it seem as if he had it all figured out, but you never knew how he actually felt about it all.

“Where ever the future leads us, I hope you’re still by my side.” He exclaimed taking your hand looking down. “I wouldn’t want to experience it without you.”

The sudden interaction was unexpected, your breath hitched eyes looking anywhere to avoid him. “I’m such a coward” is all you could think in your mind, it would be so much simpler if he just felt the same. The boy standing in front of you was looking intently, his head tilting slightly seeing your down expression.

“What’s wrong?” He asked placing a hand on your chin seeming worried. The sentence clicking back with reality putting a smile on to relieve his worries.

“Nothing..I’m okay!” You assured him slowly starting the journey back up the hall to leave for the day. The boy following behind closely wondering what was going on in your mind. But not wanting to push at the subject.

“I think I’ll walk home alone today.” Looking over at Jungwon you wave slightly before walking off, a much needed walk to clear the mind was needed. But this was also the first time you had walked without him since you both were younger. It felt odd not having a person standing right next to you, the breeze brushing your bangs in front of your face before glancing back to see him sitting on the bench outside the school. A small pit of guilt filling your stomach continuing your walk realizing it was too late to change your mind on the decision. “We were going to have to learn how to manage on our own eventually..”

A few hours passed reaching home directly heading to the room to avoid any contact from family, you plopped down on the bed pulling your phone from your bag. Scrolling through the notifications there was one from the boy, but the interaction from earlier leaving you at a loss of what to say to him. Setting down your phone in frustration putting a pillow over your face. Deciding to ignore the situation only made the pit worse, making the decision to take a nap to ignore it all. It was the only manageable situation since you couldn’t lose him admitting the inevitable feelings.

The nap that was supposedly to help was interrupted by a call from your mother, a knock at the door before she came in looking around to see you in distress before looking back at Jungwon. Your mind instantly spinning at the sight of the boy who seemed just as confused and sad as you were.

“I don’t know what happened between you two but make up. I don’t have time to try and sort this out myself.”

She muttered before walking away. “When do you ever have time for me.” You spat back at her in response, only to realize it was now just you and him. The look on his face..reminded you of when you were both younger. Him being smushed into your living room couch ready to burst into tears at any moment. “J-Jungwon..?” You stuttered as he stood in the hall not moving looking down at the floor. He sighed wiping his tears before walking in to sit on the bed next to you.

“You know you look a mess right now.” He said trying to lighten the mood. All you could do was look at his eyes, an involuntary movement to set a hand on his shoulder not knowing how to deal with the situation. “Listen you didn’t do anything-“

he cut you off.

His body latching around yours burying his face into your shoulder. The warmth of his breath radiating against your school uniform. All you could do was freeze, the pit was gone and all you could feel was emptiness. Eyes wide as you sat on the bed letting him hold you for comfort.

“I don’t know what I did, I’m sorry if I did anything to hurt you. When you left today alone all I could think was about losing you, I know it’s silly and I know you’d never leave. But please communicate with me so I know what’s going on. I can’t stand the unknown you know this, we’re best friends there’s no need for this.”

He uttered hiding his face from you, the words were jumbled and hard to understand between the sniffles and his mouth against the cloth of your shirt. You didn’t expect this, the bright radiant smile he had for years wasn’t there. Is a few hours of separation this dire to him? Maybe..maybe he does feel the same. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to tell him the truth, he is your best friend after all. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, slightly pushing the boy away and lifting his head to look at you. He sniffled before wiping his tears once more keeping his focus on yours. Rain from outside tapping on the window as night fall began.

“Jungwon I…I like you, I’ve liked you for a long time but was so worried I would ruin our friendship. I didn’t want to lose you, the fear of that over took everything else. I’d rather hide in the shadows of these unreciprocated feelings then ever see you walk away. I’m sorry I never told you, I’m sorry I dealt with these feelings alone. We tell eachother everything, but you assuring everyone we are just friends I felt as if you didn’t feel the same…and if you don’t that’s okay! I’ll get over it all eventually I just really-“

The ramble was interrupted, him placing his finger over your mouth staring taken aback by everything you just said. The moment of silence deafening before he removed his finger..leaning in to kiss your lips. The collision sending chills down your spine before placing your hands around his back, fingers gripping the fabric of his clothing. You both leaned back, the friction between your bodies was almost electrifying. The moment you never thought would happen happened. Pulling away his eyes relaxed out of desire. A hand reaching up to rub the puffy bags forming beneath them. A smile formed on his face running a hand through your hair as a sigh of relief escaped his lips.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier.”

[wilbursluvr]

Hii! I'm back with another request!

You should totally make a fic about wilbur being your dad's older friend. Like wilbur has been through a divorce recently and he went to visit your dad for some company! Then when he saw you, he wanted to.. relieve his stress and all

-🦡 anon

HAI 🦡 ANON!!!!!!!!! ouu okay you’re cooking rn

-

depressed and desperate

divorcee!wilbur x gn!reader

afab!reader

cw: sexual content

-

it was a sad sight, really.

you’d known wilbur since you were a little kid. your dad had been friends with wilbur since high school. and wilbur was a huge part of your life. he was there for everything; he was the best man at your parents wedding, he was at your graduation, at all of your band concerts.

and admittedly, you’d gotten close to him. in fact, you trusted wilbur with secrets more than your own parents. you’d call him whenever you’d be in a sticky situation; maybe you were at a party you shouldn’t have been at, maybe you were uncomfortable at a date, or maybe you were angry at your parents and just needed to talk.

and wilbur was a good guy. he got married, and by the time you were seventeen, he had just had his first kid, a little boy. and he loved his kid. you and your parents were at the hospital when he was being born, and wilbur held him the whole time, smiling the entire time. he was always active in his child’s life, and he was an amazing father and a loving husband.

the next summer, when he came over to your home, he seemed so distraught, his eyes red and puffy from crying. then, you had to sit and watch his depression worsen.

it turns out, his wife had found somebody else, so she packed her things and left, taking the baby with her. then, wilbur was left all alone. because of this, he was coming over a lot more.

and it’s not like you or your parents minded. however, it was depressing watching wilbur fall deeper and deeper into his depression. he’d come over, sit at the kitchen table or on the couch and drink all night, then be too drunk to drive himself home, then he’d sleep on the couch. then, he’d be gone the next morning.

some nights, you’d stay up in your bedroom, but others, you’d sit in the living room with him all night. you hated seeing him sad… while sometimes you’d sit on the opposite side of the couch and chat with him, others you’d be curled up next to him once your parents were in bed. occasionally, he’d let you have a sip or two of what he was drinking, and he’d be laying there, you curled up against him, his arms around you, rubbing your waist softly. neither of you saw an issue with this… you were just laying and chatting, right? there was nothing going on. you were freshly eighteen, and he was a grown man…

one night, your parents had gone out on a late night date, and therefore, you and wilbur were left alone. you guys put on some movie, but you didn’t end up watching it, but chatting instead.

“i saw finnley today.” wilbur says, his fingers in your hair as you laid against his chest. “aww, really? how’s he doing?” you ask, your hands against his chest. “he cried when i left… saw him through the window,” wilbur sighs. “i think he misses me.”

and you had some strong feelings towards wilbur’s ex wife. despite wilbur telling you she was a nice woman and a good wife, it never seemed that way when you actually saw her. she was often dismissive of his thoughts and feelings, and wilbur would laugh it off and say that he needs to be better… and you hated that. you’d known wilbur your whole life, you didn’t understand how she could be so hateful and mean towards her own husband.

you decided to bite your tongue, not saying anything about her.

“well, i hope you can see him again soon.” you sigh, your eyes fluttering closed as you lay against him. you feel his hand rub your back, his head pressed against the arm of the couch. “you’ve seemed happier though. like, a lot better than a couple months ago.” you say. “yeah… well, i don’t know. the actual court process of divorce is long… and expensive. and she won’t pay a penny towards it, so i’m stuck with all of the bills. i don’t know, i’ve just been really stressed out.”

to top that, wilbur hadn’t been laid since his wife left. he tried to rub one out here and there, but he was never able to cum, or if he did, it didn’t make him feel any better. but lately… he’s had his eye on you. and you didn’t seem to notice.

that was, until you felt something poke your thigh.

and you’ll admit. you’d found wilbur attractive, you’d had this little crush on him since you were little… but you knew nothing was going to happen. he was a grown man, and you’d only just graduated high school.

so when you felt his hard on against your leg… it freaked you out a bit… but you couldn’t help but feel excited.

“wil…” you said, your breath shaky, as you slowly lifted off of his chest. “ahh, sorry doll…” he says, letting out a nervous laugh, his hands still on your hips. “you… what’s this about?” you asked. “i-i just… i don’t know…” he lets go of your hips, sitting up on the couch nervously. “i’m sorry.” he says, looking down at the ground, or just anywhere, avoiding your gaze. “my dad would be so disappointed at the thoughts in my head right now.” you say, your eyes staring at the bulge in his pants a bit too long before meeting his eyes again. his eyes lit up slightly. he understood exactly what you meant. “your dad would fucking kill me if he found out about this.” he says as you climb into his lap, but the lustful look on his face pushed you over the edge.

you shoved your lips against his, your hands grasping desperately at his shirt. he let out a quick groan, his hands grabbing the sides of your head and kissing you hard, his long fingers tangled in your hair. “you have no idea how badly i need this.” wilbur says against your lips, his hands moving down to your shirt. he removes his lips for a second to remove your shirt, tossing it on the ground before kissing you again, his hands slowly trailing up your waist. his eyes open for a split second to see you weren’t wearing a bra, and he quickly presses his hands against your breasts, his fingers playing with your nipples. “so soft…” wilbur groans, moving his lips to your neck, kissing roughly, though avoiding leaving marks.

as he touches your breasts, you moan softly, your head leaning back, your eyes fluttered shut. he groans, leaning down and sucking on one of your nipples softly, his thumb and index finger pinching and playing with the other. you gasped, one of your hands grabbing onto his shoulder, the other tugging on his hair. “wil! s-so nice…” you whine. “god, you smell so good, darling.” he groans, switching to the other nipple, continuing to suck and kiss softly. he slowly pulls away, and you quickly get his shirt off of his body, your fingers pressed against his chest again, kissing him again.

you kick off your pants and panties, straddling his hips as you attempt to unbuckle his belt with shaking hands. you climb to the side, finally pulling the belt out of the loops. you unzip his jeans, and he lifts his hips to help you pull them down. you swore you were drooling at the sight of his cock.

you were quick to straddle him again, your lips meeting his once again. you feel his fingers running circles around your wet entrance, gently pressing a finger in. “fuck-” you gasp, grabbing onto the sides of his face. “so wet for me, darling… god, i can’t wait to fuck you.” he says, pressing a second finger in, pushing knuckle deep in. you gasped and whined, and you tried hard to continue kissing him… but god, with how his fingers felt inside you, it was impossible to focus on anything else.

you felt wilbur pull his fingers out. you whined from the loss of pleasure, but then you felt the tip of his cock press against your clit, and you moaned loudly. with one hand on your hip, his other hand presses his cock into you, and you gasped again, slowly sinking down onto it. “f-fuck, are you okay?” he asks, his hands shaking as he holds onto your hips. “y-yeah… just so nice…” you whimper,

you pick your hips up, moving slowly, your hands on his shoulders. he moaned against your lips, continuing to kiss you. “you’re doing so good, darling… so good for me.” he helps you move up and down slowly, finding delight in your desperate moans. and he’ll admit, he needed this too.

you began to pick up the pace, your hips moving quicker against him. he lets out a muffled moan, and you whined louder, your hands grabbing his shoulders harder. “you feel so good, wil…” you whimper. “you have no idea how bad i wanted this.” wilbur moans, breathless, his hands moving to your thighs. “your hands are so warm…” you moan. he grins, holding onto them tightly, his fingers digging into your skin. because of this, you began riding him quicker, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. “holy fucking shit- so fucking good, doll.” he moans, kissing you harder. your head fell into the crook of his neck, where he kissed along the shell of your ear. his hands reached up, gently playing with your breasts again, and you cried out in pleasure.

“c’mon, doll…” wilbur moans, squeezing your breasts with his hands. your hips moved quicker, and you felt your thighs getting sore, but you couldn’t stop… not with the knot that was growing in your stomach. “you’re so close, love, i can feel it…” he says, moaning as he felt his own release approaching. you threw your head back, moaning and whining loudly, your orgasm taking over your body. your hips were moving hard against him, and your thighs went numb as you finished. as soon as you were done, wilbur groaned loudly, cumming deep inside of you, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth hung open.

finally, you collapsed on top of him, breathless, numb and exhausted. he wrapped one arm around you, rubbing your back, and used the other hand to stroke your hair. “you did so good, doll, so amazing… good girl…” he says, still breathless. you two laid in silence for a few minutes before he picked you up, carrying you up the stairs to your bedroom. he helped you put some clean pajamas on before laying you down on the bed, pulling the blankets up to your neck. “m-my dad won’t find out, will he?” you ask. wilbur shook his head. “god no, doll. this is just between you and i, i promise.” he nods, leaning down and kissing your forehead gently. “i’ll bring you some water, okay?”

wilbur headed downstairs to the kitchen, where he filled a glass of water. he quickly got dressed and brought the glass of water up to your bedroom, where he encouraged you to drink some of it before laying down in your bed, holding you in his arms while soothing you to sleep. “goodnight, love… sleep well, okay?”

[ottopilot-wrote-this]

A New Year

Pete laid across his living room sofa, mindlessly scrolling his timeline. The dim ambient light and the cool glow of the television were all that illuminated his living room. Anderson Cooper, already tipsy, was telling viewers there were mere minutes before the ball would start its descent, ushering in the new year.

Yeah, except the ball dropped three hours ago, Pete thought. Live, my ass. Just hurry up so I can go to bed.

He was startled by a sudden knock at the door. Suspiciously, he rose from the couch. Who would be out in this shitty weather at this time of night?

"Pete? Pete, you there?" a woman's muffled voice called out. Pete turned on the outside light and looked out the peephole. It was tough to make out anything, but there was a young woman outside, alone, holding the handle of a hardsided suitcase, huddled in the rain.

Slowly, he opened the door and looked at his midnight visitor. His first impression was she looked like she went swimming in her clothes. Her jeans and her hoodie were saturated, and her dyed red hair was matted against her fair skin. She looked up, her sad brown eyes meeting his, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Hiya, Petey," she said, with a wan smile.

Pete hadn't seen Ronnie since the summer after graduation. He remembered that day vividly. It was a typical scorching summer day in the valley. They had gone out for burgers because he had said he needed to talk to her about something important. He was leaving for Irvine in thirteen days. She wore a tank top and short jean cutoffs, her soft curves barely contained by the threadbare fabric.

That was the day he told her he had been in love with her since the eighth grade.

The woman in front of him seemed to have aged two decades, even though it had only been six years. Dark circles hung under her eyes. Her ebullient personality was replaced with a world-weary cynicism. She looked like she was a day removed from a good meal, and twice as long from restful sleep. It was like seeing the ghost of his former teenage crush.

"If you'd let me in, you can keep staring, but at least we'll both be dry," she said, sardonically.

Pete snapped out of his trance. "Oh, uh, my bad. Yeah, Ronnie, come on in." He gestured to the couch. "Have a seat." He thought to get her a clean towel, but sheepishly realized he didn't have one. "Uh, can I get you a drink? I have a couple of beers..."

Ronnie left the suitcase and her Vans at the entryway. "No, I don't drink... anymore," she said, a frown appearing on her face. "I'll take a water. Tea, if you have it?"

Pete handed her a clean dish towel, which she used to tousle her hair. "Sure. Hot tea. Makes sense. Coming up."

Pete filled up two coffee mugs with water and stuck them in the microwave. "Sorry, this is quite a surprise. What brings you here in this storm?"

Seated on the leather couch, Ronnie shivered in her damp clothes. "Flight got cancelled. Fucking podunk regional airport. My parents dropped me off at the airport, then left for Mexico. They didn't think to trust their adult daughter with a key to their house, I guess," she said with a self-deprecating laugh. "Anyway, I thought of you and I... I wanted to see what you were up to."

Pete handed Ronnie a red coffee mug and a Ziploc baggie of teabags. "I stole these from hotels, take your pick," he said with a nervous laugh. He sat across from her in an easy chair, a UC Irvine coffee mug in his hands.

Ronnie picked out a black tea and dunked it into her mug. "Where's the 'rents, Petey?" she asked, her cold lithe fingers curled around the warm ceramic.

Pete smirked. "Divorced. Dad took a new job in Chicago. Mom got the house, but... there were too many memories here for her. She lives in Sacramento, has a new boyfriend. I moved here after college, and I teaching algebra at the high school. On my own here, but you know me, I've always been happy in my own company."

Ronnie took a sip of tea. "You used to talk about leaving that shithole and never coming back, and now you teach there. Bang up job there, chief."

Pete shifted in his seat and changed the subject. "What are you up to, Ronnie? No one's heard from you. No socials or anything," he said, his tone slightly accusatory.

"I work retail, getting treated like shit for a meager wage, it's exciting stuff," she deadpanned. "I'm taking some classes at a community college. Guess things didn't turn out like either of us expected," Ronnie mused, her voice tinged with sadness. "As for socials, people curating their lives, showing you the good times and keeping the bad times in their drafts... nah, I wasn't interested in that."

Awkward silence filled the space. Ronnie looked down into her tea, while Pete looked at the television, the big moment approaching. On the wall, a large antique clock ticked crisply, the sound reverberating through the quiet room. Finally, Pete spoke softly. "Listen, Ronnie... I'm sorry. About Marcus."

Ronnie flinched, lowering the mug from her face, which was drained of color. "Don't, Pete," her words came terse and halted. "Don't you fucking dare." Her words hung in the uncomfortable silence, the atmosphere rife with unsaid apologies. Ronnie glared across her mug, her eyes full of anger and hurt. Her eyes darted to the clock, relentlessly ticking away, and back to Pete. "I called you. I called you and you didn't pick up, didn't call back."

Pete sighed, leaning back in his chair, rolling his eyes and looking away. "I didn't know, Ronnie," he said defensively. "How was I supposed to know? You ghosted me, I had a broken heart..."

Ronnie slammed the mug on the coffee table, splashing hot water onto her hand and startling Pete. "Don't make excuses, Peter," she growled, her fiery eyes brimming with tears. "You felt the need to unburden yourself about your feelings because you were leaving. What did you think was going to happen, I was going to leave him for you? I was in love! You left me to deal with that.

"Then Marcus died, senselessly I might add, because he was reckless, and stupid. I was eighteen fucking years old, Peter! I lost my best friend and my boyfriend and I had nothing. I was getting drunk every night, I was broken, and I fucking needed you! I thought we were friends!"

On the television, New Yorkers were excitedly cheering in anticipation of the new year. On the wall, seconds ticked away on the clock. Outside, the wind howled and sheets of rain batted against the windows, as the intensity of the storm seemed to match the tension in the living room.

Pete sunk into the chair. She was right, after all. He had been so wrapped up in his own emotions he wasn't there for her in her time of need. Even after he knew the truth weeks later, he couldn't work up the nerve to call and apologize. He had been holding onto that guilt for years, and knowing Ronnie started drinking only made it worse. He wanted badly to apologize, to grovel for her forgiveness, but his throat was tight and he couldn't find the words. Any of them.

Ronnie fumed on the couch, tears streaming down her face. "You're not going to say anything?" she yelled incredulously. She shook her head, fighting the urge to lose her composure even more. Pete sat in silence, frozen, swallowing hard. Ronnie rose from the couch. "This was a mistake," she whispered, her voice quivering. "I'm sorry I spoiled your New Year's party of one."

Ronnie stormed to the door, fumbling with her soggy shoes, and grabbed her suitcase. "Goddammit Ronnie," Pete finally stammered, rising from the chair. "You can't go out there in that storm."

Ronnie turned to face Pete, her beautiful face a canvas of hurt and disappointment. "Watch me. Goodbye, Petey," she said softly. And with a slam of the door, she was gone.

Pete stood there stunned, his breaths shaky and uneven. His body felt cold, as if the blood had run out of his body. Different emotions - anger, at himself; guilt, sorrow, regret - flooded his mind, which screamed at his body to go after her even as he stood motionless. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Pete looked at a couple, two men, on his television. They were kissing, their first of the new year, as confetti fell around them. Surrounded by thousands, they shared an intimate moment as if they were the only ones in Times Square, their joy and love evident to an audience of millions.

The clock ticked on the wall, capturing Pete's attention. The ornate wall clock, a gift from his uncle to his parents for their wedding. The clock had outlived the marriage, its constant and unyielding ticking echoing through the silent room. A mocking testament to time lost, and the fragility of relationships.

Another couple on the television, this time a man and woman, but their body language was different than the gay couple. They were clearly old friends, platonic and familiar, hugging each other in the cold, jumping up and down excitedly. Content to be in each other's company, sharing a connectedness that Pete had not had in some time, as he stood alone, looking around his solitary home.

Outside, Ronnie cursed her stupidity, the downpour covering her tears, as she walked away from Pete's house. She had been so foolish, exposing herself to get hurt again. He had clearly learned nothing, and neither had she.

"Ronnie! Wait!" she heard Pete's voice in the night, over the wind. He's out of his goddamned mind if he thinks I'm stopping, she thought, continuing to walk away, her head down, with no destination in mind.

Pete ran after Ronnie in the downpour, which quickly soaked through his white t-shirt and pajama pants, as his flip-flops splashed on the sidewalk. Chilled to the bone, his breath coming in gasps, he yelled again, "Ronnie! Please...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. Please come inside."

Hearing his apology, Ronnie stopped. She spun around, water dripping off her bangs into her eyes. "Why? You want to kick me when I'm down, Pete?" she said, raw and vulnerable. "Give me one good reason why I should open myself up to more pain tonight."

The rain ran down Pete's face in the streetlight, and Ronnie could not tell if he had also been crying. "Because it's a new year, Ronnie. Because I don't want to be alone tonight. I'm tired of being alone and isolated, and so are you, or you wouldn't have come here. Let's start over, you and I, and try to rediscover what we used to have before I fucked it all up."

Pete extended his hand, the palm shining in the light as Ronnie looked at it. "Let's get out of the rain, Ronnie. We've both been lonely for too long."

Ronnie looked at his hand, then into his eyes. No longer burning with rage and hurt, the look on her face was filled with uncertainty, as she took a step forward. "I didn't come here to sleep with you, Peter," she whispered, her eyes looking away.

"I'm not asking you to," Pete said warmly. "I'm asking you to come in from this storm and give me a chance to make everything up to you."

"What does that even mean, Pete?"

"Tonight, it just means I let you take a hot shower and sleep in my bed while I sleep on the couch. It means hitting the reset button on our friendship." Pete smiled again, tears forming in his blue eyes. "I miss my friend, Ronnie."

Bypassing the outstretched hand, Ronnie threw her arms around Pete, embracing him. For the first time in years, their bodies were in contact with each other, and Pete sighed as he tightly wrapped his forearms around Ronnie's torso, as she heaved with sobs. "I missed you too, you fucking idiot," she cried.

Gently, Pete kissed Ronnie on the cheek in the rain. "Happy New Year, Ronnie."

---

Pete stood in the doorway of his bedroom, dressed in a fresh, dry shirt and pajama bottoms. With the hum of the clothes dryer in the background, he watched Ronnie sleep in his bed. Relaxed and in peaceful slumber, her face no longer carried the weight and anxiety from earlier, and she reminded Pete of the young girl he fell for a decade prior.

Pete closed the bedroom door and made his way to the living room couch. He thought about the serendipitous events of the night, and reflected on the conversations they had before bed. God, how he had missed hearing her true laughter. As he laid he head on a couch cushion and pulled a throw blanket over himself, he considered that he didn't know what the future held for him and Ronnie. But maybe it was true that a new year meant a clean slate, and an opportunity to start anew.

As he drifted off to sleep, the wall clock ticked the seconds away, but he paid it no attention.

[idlerin]

nonsense — 12. i despise you

five years ago still,,

“quit whispering in my ear, people are starting to stare,” you whisper to oikawa who was sitting next to you, arm lazily placed around the back of your chair. maybe they weren’t just staring at the both of you because of the whispering. you were already standing out being the only one in black in the midst of the white aoba johsai uniform.

“hm?” he hummed directly in your ear, which made you shiver involuntarily, you only hoped he didn’t notice, but of course he did. you see the teasing smile he held, something you were oh so familiar to.

the both of you were currently in his school, because that’s where the joint assembly was held, you had the choice to come here by classroom assignments or by club, you chose to come by club because then there would be less people crammed in the bus.

“i despise you,” you say to him when he starts playing with your hair. the amount of staring got worse. he was popular! did he forget about that? it’s like you could feel the harsh glares of the jealous girls wishing they could be in your position. they could take it! gladly!

but then you don’t really mean that, do you? shut up mind!

“okay, [name]-chan,” he says, eyes at the front as if he was listening to whatever the speaker was saying, honestly, you weren’t too, maybe you’ll ask your classmates tomorrow or something.

you’ve known of oikawa tooru since junior high, he was already popular since then (has this man ever lived when he wasn’t popular?). he was that cool and attractive senior everyone had a crush on, even you were enraptured, he was just so charming, but then you quickly realized that most of his smiles were fake the day you confessed to him, sorta.

it was the last day before his batch's graduation, he was surrounded by people like usual while you were anxiously carrying out a gift (it was milk bread, since you learned from a senior that it was his favorite food) to confess to him with. you tried to find a moment where you could be alone with him, it was difficult, since people kept approaching him left and right and you weren’t about to just walk over and hand him a gift, how embarrassing that would be, you didn’t even think he knew who you were.

but eventually, he was left alone, and you were there from afar watching how his cheery smile fell from his face and what’s left was a tired expression. you were taken aback since you never saw your senior look so gloomy. you hesitantly stepped closer, not saying a word and handing him a gift.

he looked up at you at first, confused, then you watched his mask slip on again as he gave you a smile, “oh? what’s this?” he took the gift gratefully as you froze in his presence.

“i-i’m your number one supporter,” you bowed, face heating up because you stuttered. a lot of people have probably said that to him.

“you’re… [name], right?” the way he spoke your name made your heart beat obnoxiously faster. he knew your name! oh my god he knew your name! how did he know your name? “you’re from the journalism club, i see you around our games documenting it, thank you for the praises for our club!”

“you’re welcome,” was the only thing you could say as you stood up straight again. “i’ve also seen some of the shows you’ve been in so far, i think you’re really talented,” your face was impossibly redder. “t-that’s all, thank you, goodbye,” you say and run away, you hear him call out another thanks but you didn’t have the courage to look back.

you thought that was the last you’ll see of him, since you didn’t end up in the same highschool anyways, and your tiny little crush on him had faded. that was until you showed up at the house of the little boy named takeru you were supposed to be tutoring and jumped when you saw his figure sprawled on the couch. you continued tutoring takeru peacefully and ignored oikawa tooru. the last time you saw him was embarrassing, you think he’s forgotten about you already, you hoped he has.

but when you were on your way to leave he waved a complacent goodbye, “have a safe walk back home, [name]!”

and all of that lead you here to this moment, the assembly had ended and you were being dragged around by oikawa tooru to his classroom because he forgot something in there and decided you should come with him. now you were sitting on one of the classroom chairs— it was a really nice desk, why couldn’t karasuno get a clean not-carved by students' desk.

you watched as oikawa pokes his hand inside his desk among the countless school supplies he left there.

“what are you trying to find?” you ask, head laying on the desk.

“my pen! the one you gave me,” he said, “here it is,” he says triumphantly, showing you the pen with a crow design on it, yes you gave the captain of aoba johsai karasuno merch, what about it?

oikawa leans back on his chair, stretching, “god, i’m tired.”

“has your schedule been packed this week too?” you ask, face scrunched up, you were worried of course, for the past year, you’ve been exposed to oikawa’s rather hectic life, you try to remind him all the time to watch his health.

“yeah, glad i have the weekend off though,” he sighs, he then stood up from where he sat, walking in front of you, blocking your view of the board, “do you want to go eat out?”

you pause, looking up at him, “are you asking me out?” your face heated up at the thought, you just blurted that out without thinking, you were just supposed to ask that in your head.

oikawa notices again, of course he does, he notices everything. he leaned down a little, a hand on the back of your chair, the other on the desk, "[name]-chan, it seems like you're starting to fall for me," he smirks, he was teasing you like usual.

you try to give him a deadpan face as you curl your hand around his tie, tugging him down close to your face, you felt his breath hitch, now he knows how it feels, "and what if I am?” you say boldly. inside you were a complete mess, because why were you confessing, why were you confessing.

alone in this big classroom with just him and you, the warm hues of the sun filtering from the glass windows, from this angle, oikawa’s face was just so close, you realize you were still holding onto his tie so you let go of it abruptly.

you watch as oikawa gulps, “i like you too, [name],” he says it softly. it wasn’t teasing anymore, and now the two of you were incredibly red.

masterlist — previous | next

✦ fun facts !

[name] meets the other boys shortly after this

oikawa and [name] dated for a year and a half!

[name] is a tsundere, if it isn’t obvious enough lol

nonsense ! an oikawa tooru social media au

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

a/n — god i love writing fluff

taglist is open ! + @kawaii-angelanne @ceneridiankaa @kittycasie @rukia-uchiha-98 @polish-cereal @kellesvt @rockleeisbaeeee @kashxyou @imsoluvly @jjulliette @tooruchiiscribs @littlefreakjulia @gomjohs @qualitygiantshoepsychic @mellowknightcolorfarm @konzumeken @migosple @kuroogguk @sangwooooo @katsu-shi @wolffmaiden @rijhi @2baddies-1porsche @yeehawcity @aishkaaa @crueldinasty @rintarousprincess @yyuiz @epeec28 @llamakenma @penguinlovestowrite

[suratan-zir]

WHOOPS, I didn't see that thanks for the link! Where did your fascination witjbrats come from?

It's hard to answer this question because there is no interesting story or specific reason. I've had pet rats almost my whole life, so for a while, getting new ones was like a habit to me. I grew up surrounded by animals. My first rodent was a hamster that bit my finger the first time I tried to touch him. He bit right through it. I must've been about 5 years old at the time. So, my parents gave it back and got me a rat instead. I don't remember that first rat because I was so young, but it's for the best, honestly. I later learned from my mother that the first rat died a horrible death because of my parents' stupidity (they thought that rats do not need water??? Two grown-ups in their twenties. wtf).

But since then, I had rats pretty much always. They lived in horrible conditions and alone, but no one knew any better at the time. I loved them, though. I remember especially fondly two of them. One was a black boy whose name I shall not tell because it was so stupid, the first letters were Ts. He basically grew up with one of our cats (which is horrible and you should never let your rats and cats interact in any way!). I was about ten. I still have this artifact, the whole three pixels of it, recorded on my Motorola phone, lol. Nevermind, tumblr won't let me attach the video. Ts. lived for three years and was almost always with me.

Before Ts., there was Buffy, a blue girl. Sadly, I have only memories of her. I didn't have a phone or camera at the time. She had a lot of adventures in her life. I made her a DIY harness and let her roam outside (which you also shouldn't do). She loved to dig trenches in the sand and climb trees. Somehow, she didn't get eaten by birds of prey or simply get lost, I guess I was lucky.

Even when I left my hometown after graduating high school, I took my rat with me. Clementine, a black-hooded girl, also lived a very long life.

Then I finally started researching proper pet care in general and rat care in particular. I should've done it earlier, I know, but I grew up in a family where it wasn't really a thing, like it didn't even occur to me. It breaks my heart to think about all the rats that lived their miserable lives with us when I was little.

Anyway, I got a bigger cage (still very small!) and two girls. But with university and many changes in my personal life, I didn't spend any time with them at all. They fought with each other all the time. When one of them died, I got another one, and they fought again. I was 17-18 at the time but still dumb af. I tried to quit getting new rats after the oldest girl died. I thought I didn't want them anymore. But then the old habit kicked in, and I got Fiona.

Fiona was the one. The rat that changed my perception of rats in general. The rat who turned me into a crazy rat lady. But it wasn't because she was so special. It was just because the year was 2014, I was in Donetsk, the world was seemingly falling apart (if you know, you know). And there was Fiona, way too young to be weaned and sold, tiny and depending on me. I was in love. She gave me comfort and helped me get through the worst (or so I thought) times. I didn't want to have another rat who would bully Fiona, but eventually, I decided to do the right thing and get Fiona a friend. Tori was rehomed from horrible conditions.

She was covered in wounds from mites, not used to handling, and walked weirdly because they never let her out. She made a swift and full recovery, though. And they got along with Fiona instantly and were inseparable till the end.

I let them free roam the room because in that apartment there was nothing worth of saving. And they wrecked havoc, they got rid of all the ugly wallpaper and made a nest behind the couch. Sometimes I would have to move the couch to get them back into their cage.

I really want to have a "rat room" again, but in this flat it's not possible, they would chew their way to the downstairs neighbor.

Then I got the third rat, Shlyopa, she cost me exactly one "kinder surprise" chocolate egg in exchange.

We later made a large DIY cage because we were too poor to afford a pre-manufactured one. Shlyopa was the best rat I ever had, hands down. She was something else. So obsessed with me that it was almost annoying at times. If I was in the room, she would not calm down until I let her out to be with me. I miss her to this day.

She had to sleep hugging my hand, so I couldn't move it until her sleep was deep enough.

I'm getting carried away, I know. Rats are just my spirit animals. I understand them, their thought process, and I relate to them (I'm also afraid of everything, lol). I feel grateful for the love they show me, I find comfort in them. And I hope I find strength to not get any new rats after the three I have now. It hurts too much.

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 11 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: It's about to go down. Ya'll ready?!

Enjoy <3

Warnings: Dom Steddie & Plus Size Sub Y/N and all that implies (I regret nothing!), Smut and ALL the angst. These three confront the parents and as you can imagine it doesn't go well. Steve's dad is a douchebag and Y/N is referred to as a whore a few times. Eddie gets hit *cries*. He in turn gets a little rough with the reader but Steve intervenes. A bit of a cliffhanger ending... I mean I guess lol I think that's everything!

Word Count: 3335

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you slowly open your front door and enter your house, Eddie and Steve following close behind. 

Both your parents are standing in the living room and to your surprise so are Steve’s. His dad visibly looks a mess, his hair and suit completely disheveled.

“Oh, Steven!”, his mother exclaims as she runs to give him a hug.

“You can leave.” Your dad gestures towards Eddie.

“I could but I’m not. Do I need to call my uncle so we have everyone who needs to be here present?”

“It’s not like you can call his dad.”, Mr. Harrington sasses under his breath as you angrily glare at him. 

“Mr. Munson, you don’t need to be here. I asked for my daughter to come home with Mr. Harrington here—”

“Yeah well, my understanding is you have a problem with me to so…”, Eddie shrugs. Your dad turns to your mom and whispers something to her before she rises to head for the kitchen to use the phone. “He works at the mill up there. He should be in by now.”

You three sit on the couch as you try to keep your emotions in check. The way everyone is staring at you guys terrifies you but you were also extremely angry, knowing how this conversation was going to play out. No matter what they said, you loved Eddie and Steve. You weren’t leaving them. 

“Wayne said he would be here in 15 minutes.”, your mother notified the room. 

“Good. He can take his nephew when he gets here. Now while we wait, Steven, I’m just going to say this out right, stay away from my daughter. This thing you two have is over.”

“Dad—”

“And as for you, you disobeyed us. We told you to stay away from him especially since he’s associated with this one here.”, he points to Eddie. 

“Which ends today to. I don’t want you spending any more time with this freak.”, his dad adds.

“Well, what does it matter, dad? According to you, I’ve already tarnished our name by not making into college, right? I’m too fucking stupid and lazy. Isn’t that what you said?”

“You’re goddamn right! We raised you to be better than this.”

“You didn’t raise him at all!”, you defended. “He’s spent half of high school alone in that big house.”

“Y/N!”, your mother scolds and you immediately fold back into yourself. 

The boys glance your way before looking back down at the floor. “I guess we see now why she was so meek and scared before.”, Eddie softly smiles as he reaches for your hand. 

“Hey! Don’t touch my daughter.”

“I love your daughter! No one has ever cared about me or made me feel the way she does.”

“Wait…”, Steve’s dad rubs his palm over his eyes. “I’m confused. Steve, you told me you were dating Y/N.”

“I am and I love her to.”

“But he just…”

Your eyes meet your mother’s before hers drift towards the ceiling. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

A knock on the door brings everything to a halt and your dad quickly answers it to allow Eddie’s uncle entry. “Get your nephew and get out of my house.”

“Wait. What is happening?”

“You to, Bill! Get your son and leave. It’s obvious we need to have a long talk with our child.”

“We can talk as long as you want, dad, but that’s not going to change how I feel. I love them to and after we graduate, we’re moving in together.”

“Huh…well that explains some things.”, Wayne smirks as he looks at all the other adults in the room. “I mean I had a feeling but didn’t want to assume.”

“You’re ok with this?!”, your mom shrieks. 

“Yeah, I mean… they aren’t doing anything wrong. They aren’t a gang or something. They’re three people in love. It’s nice and rare at such a young age.”

“Exactly! ‘Young age’! You three are way too young to understand what you are feeling!”

“ENOUGH!”, your dad booms as all conversation ceases. “This is over.”, he points his index finger towards you. “End it now. As long as you are under my roof, you will follow my rules. You are not allowed to see either of these boys again.”

“You can’t keep us from her.”, Eddie responds as he grips your hand tighter. 

“I sure fucking can! I’ll call the cops! I’ll send her to live with family in other states! I’ll—”

“You’ll call the cops and tell them what? Your daughter is spending time us? And you can send her anywhere you want, no matter what, we would follow her.”, Steve interrupts reaching for your hand as well. 

“Steven Harrington, you think about this now. If you insist on staying with this…whore…I will cut you off—”

“Hey now.”, Wayne cuts in. “No need to be rude or disrespectful. If you say something like that again, I’m ending this and taking all three of them back to my home.”

As Eddie’s uncle spoke, your eyes scanned your parents. Their angry eyes were staring into a void they seemed to stuck in. What killed you most was while Wayne defended you, your mom and dad remained silent, seemingly agreeing with Steve’s father. To them…you were a whore.

“Cut me off, dad. I don’t care. I’ve spent my whole life trying to impress you and be what you wanted me to be. Now I just want to figure out who I am and I want to do it with this woman here. I may not be the best student, man, or even fucking son but I am good at taking care of baby girl here.”

“Do you agree with his dad?”, you blurted your question as you addressed your family. “Do you two think I’m a slut?”

“What-what are we supposed to think, Y/N?”, your mother stutters. 

“It’s not like I’m-I’m opening my legs for all of Hawkins! I’m in a relationship with these two. I—”

“Stop it, Y/N.”, your dad warns.

“No!”, you suddenly rise to your feet. “I’ve never done anything wrong or given you two any reason to worry before. You both always said I was smart and knew how to make my own choices! Why is this ONE suddenly wrong?”

“Sit. Down. Y/N.”

“Sweetheart…” Eddie tries to pull at your hand to get your attention, getting to his feet as well. He recognizes that look and tone from your father; he’s seen it before on his own. 

“Dad, they are both so good to me. If you just got to know them—”

As your dad’s arm rears back, the metalhead slides between you two, taking the slap that was meant for you. Wayne moves forward as Steve stands, tugging you behind him. 

“We’re done here. I’m taking them to my trailer until Steve and Y/N feel safe coming home if at all.”, Wayne growls.

“You can’t do that.”

“Oh, I assure you I can. Unless you want to call Hopper down here so we can explain to him how you just assaulted my nephew.” His uncle reaches for Eddie’s arm and guides him towards the front door. “You kids get a head start. I’ll be right behind you.”

Without speaking, the three of you exit the house and quickly move to Eddie’s van. 

“Do you want me to drive?”, Steve asks.

The metalhead shakes his head, opening the passenger door for you before slamming it shut. As he begins the drive back to the trailer, you start replaying everything in your head. You knew your parents weren’t going to approve of this relationship but you never expected them to be this angry to the point where your dad would react the way that he did. 

 Eddie got hurt, Steve was cut off, you and he didn’t have a home anymore. Then everything that happened last night… this is all my fault… 

You tried to hide the tears that flowed as you curled into the window. After a while, the trailer came into view but even after the man parked no one moved. You glanced over at the driver, suddenly realizing his chest was rising and falling rapidly. 

“Eddie… are you okay?”

Steve followed your eye line as he shifted to the other side of the van. “Munson. It’s okay, man. You’re okay.”

Eddie’s eyes shut as his mouth opened to release a loud scream as he repeatedly hit at his steering wheel. His hair blocked his face as his head hung to his chest. The driver’s side door gradually opened as Wayne leaned against it, reaching for his nephew’s arm. 

“Come on, son. You’re okay.”

Gently, he tugged his nephew out and the rest of you followed suit. As you entered the trailer, you and Steve sat on the couch while Eddie’s uncle looked him over. 

“He got you pretty good but…it would have probably done way more damage to her. That was a brave thing you did, Eddie.” The metalhead’s shoulders deflate as he exhales. “You two are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. Y/N, I can give you some cash and after school tomorrow you and the boys can go into town so you can buy some essentials.”

“I’m sorry…”

Wayne came over and bent down on his heels beside you. “You have no reason to be sorry, honey. You are not a whore; you’ve done nothing wrong. Okay?” He smiles when you nod. “Ed, I have to get back to work. Are you three going to be alright?”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

As his uncle straightens up, he reaches over to pat Steve’s shoulder. Once he leaves, Eddie abruptly turns and heads for his room. You two trail after him, finding him in a chair with a cigarette dangling from his lips as he tries to light it. 

“Fucking…piece of shit…lighter…”, he growls before angrily throwing it to the floor. 

Slowly, you place yourself in front of him, extending your hand out to run your fingers through his hair. Eddie sighs again as he leans forward and rests his forehead on your stomach. 

“I’m…thank you…” The tears start flow again as you hug him to you. His hands glide up to your lower back as his lips press against your tummy. The metalhead’s eyes glance up to meet yours for the first time since you left your parents house and the pain you found within them killed you. It was like the man now was fighting with the scared little boy he was back then, trying to remind himself that he was in control. You lean down to kiss his lips before nodding you head, whispering against them. “Use me.”

With incredible strength, Eddie lifted you under your arms and all but threw you onto his bed. He tore off your clothes, rapidly trying to do the same with his own. After opening your legs, he spit into cunt, gripping the base of his cock and guiding himself roughly into your body. His hips pounded aggressively into yours as he remained pushed up on his palms, long hair blocking his face from your view. As you reached up to move it out of the way, his hand flew to your wrist, pinning it flat to the mattress. 

You winced at the feeling of each hard thrust; he had never been this rough with you before. He began muttering things under his breath you could barely hear as you caught every other word. 

“Fucking…asshole…I could…knock him…out.”

“S-sir?”, you whimpered as Steve knelt by the bed, scanning your face.

“Color, honey?”

“Yellow, Da-daddy.”

“Eddie, she needs a minute.”

“They think…tell me…what to do…no. I’m…in control.” Your eyes widen as his hand suddenly flies to your throat, gripping it hard between his fingers.

“Eddie! Stop!” Steve quickly shoves him back and he tumbles off you, releasing you from his hold. “Y/N, are you ok?”

You cough as you try to catch your breath. 

“Fuck. F-fuck, Y/N. Sweetheart, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t even hear you. I…fuck!”, he shouts as he hits the trailer wall with his fist. 

You glance over at him before looking up Steve, assuring him you were alright. “Take these off, Daddy.” You tug at his shirt collar and he nods, rising to his feet.

“Don’t. Don’t touch me. I don’t want to hurt you again.”, Eddie’s voice shakes as you turn and place your hand on his chest. 

“Do you trust me?”, you whisper.

“Yeah, I just…don’t trust myself.”

Leaning forward, you tenderly kiss his lips as you push him carefully on to his back and straddle his waist. “I do, Master.”

A moan escapes his beautiful lips at the title, his palms coming to rest on your thighs as you carefully slide his cock into your entrance. Balancing above him on your hands, you grind your hips as you tilt your upper half closer to his chest.

“You’re always so protective of me. I feel so safe with you and Daddy.”

Steve climbs on to the bed behind you as you crane you neck to watch him spit in his hand and stroke it along his length. His eyebrows raise as if to ask if you’re ready and you subtly nod, allowing him to grab your waist and push himself into your ass. 

Once again, you felt so full by both of them immediately, moaning at the delicious stretch of them inside of you. Steve’s arms came into your field of view as his chest pressed against your back and his hands rest near yours against the mattress. 

Your eyes rolled as he began rolling his hips into yours, panting against your skin. 

“You both feel so good. Oh my god… Please, Sir. I NEED you to move.”

“You need me, princess?”

Eddie licks his lips as his hips thrust upwards eliciting a loud moan from you both. Steve leans back onto to his knees, guiding your movements with his palms as he glances between your bodies.

“F-fuck, baby. You take us both so well.”

The metalhead nods underneath you, agreeing with his friend. “Such a good girl.”

“Mmm—use me. Fill me up, please. I need you to. I need to—mmm-- feel you cum inside me.”

Eddie’s fingers reach up to caress your face before gripping the back on your neck, bringing your lips to his. 

“I love you, Y/N. You are safe with us. I’d never—God—I’d never let anyone hurt you like that.” His glassy, blown out eyes lock with yours as he pumps into you harder. Steve tries to match his pace, slamming his hips into yours. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your pussy clenches around him as you cum. Eddie grunts below you at the feeling, clinging to your waist as he follows you.

The other boy holds you against his chest as he chases his high, his arms holding you tightly as he thrusts his spend into your body. 

Without a word, they each gradually pull out of you making you hiss and wince at the slight sting. The metalhead gently takes your hand and walks you towards his shower. After cleaning you and making sure you were comfortable, he places you back on the mattress in front of Steve who casually begins brushing your hair. 

“Wayne doesn’t need to give you too much cash. I, um, I bought some stuff and have them here for when you spend the night like that brush.”, Eddie gestures towards Steve. “We just need to find you some clothes more than anything. In a couple days, maybe my uncle can talk your parents into letting you swing by to get your stuff. You may have to wait till we find an apartment to bring everything… Trailer is kind of small.”, he smiles. 

You fingers reach out to move some of his hair back so you can see his face. 

“I’m really fucking sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to… Your dad hit me and I just felt like a boy again, you know? I got lost in my brain.”

“It’s okay. I understand. I genuinely do. I’m sorry he hit you.”

“I’m sorry for my dad to…talking down to both of you like that.”, Steve sighs. “You’re not a whore, Y/N. That goes without saying but…”, he chuckles. “I know you like to be called that in bed—”

“By you two. But even then, when you say it, I know you don’t mean it like they do.”

They nod at your statement, each man leaning in to kiss your lips. The rest of the night, they kept an extra close eye on you; making sure you were fed and comfortable before falling asleep in their arms. While Eddie leaned out his bedroom window smoking a cigarette, you shot up in bed, grabbing your heart as you panted. 

“Hey! Whoa, sweetheart. It’s ok, you’re ok. It was just a nightmare.”

Silently, your head feel back against the pillow as you sobbed. He tossed the end of his smoke out into the yard, closing the window, and enveloping you in his arms. The metalhead tenderly kissed your forehead as you rolled over, pressing your face into his bare chest. 

“I know, baby. It’s ok. I’ve got you. Master’s here for you.”

##########

That following morning, Eddie gave you a shirt to wear so you could at least have on something different than yesterday. All eyes felt like they were on you as you three climbed out of his van and headed for the campus. 

“Is it just me or are there more eyes on us than normal?”

“Well, King Steve did just show up with the freak so I imagine there’s a lot of gossip there.”

You squinted towards the metalhead, pursing your lips. “I hate when you call yourself that. You aren’t a freak.”

“Y/N?”, Masie called as she waved you to her locker. 

“We’ll see you in class, alright? Everything is okay.”, Steve soothes as he tenderly pets your head. 

“Hey Maze. What’s going on?”

“I was going to ask you that.” Your best friend takes a few steps closer to you as she lowers her voice. “Is it true that you’re fucking Steve Harrington AND Eddie Munson?”

“I—what—I mean—where did you hear that?”, you ask as you stumble over your words. 

“Y/N, Mr. Harrington went to the bar last night talking about how you ‘corrupted his son’ and how delusional the three of you are. The whole town knows about it. Is-is it true? I mean I know you spend a lot of time with them but I thought they were just friends.”

“I…um… what if I was in a relationship with them both? Would that be so wrong?”

Masie’s eyes widen as she takes a step back from you. “I-I-I don’t know what to say.”

Your eyes begin to water as you slowly back away. “No. I completely understand. Um, take your time and I’m just, um, going to go to class.”

“Y/N, WAIT!”, she screams after you as you run away from her down the hallway. You don’t stop till you’re outside your first classroom which is currently being blocked by students.

“Move! Everyone out of my way!”, Mr. C pushes through the crowd and you follow close behind. 

A couple of boys were on the floor wrestling with Steve and Eddie. The desks were pushed out of the way and blood had already began staining the linoleum. A few other teachers with campus security ran in pulling everyone apart. 

“What is going on?!”, your teacher shrieked. “Mr. Munson? Mr. Harrington? Care to enlighten me?”

They were furious, you could see it reflecting in their beautiful eyes even as they tried to avoid your gaze. Another student finally piped up and pointed towards the blackboard where you and Mr. C quickly turned to look. 

In big bold letters, written in yellow chalk read the words, “Y/N Y/L/N. CLASS SLUT OF 1984.”

#########

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