#i just sit around waiting aimlessly bored of everything

[reidrum]

doctor, doctor

A/N: the things i have planned for them.............

summary: in which the doctor meets the doctor, a doctor meetcute if you will

cw: doctor!reader, fluff, flirting, hospital mentions, set during season 5x01 (spoilers ig)

wc: 1.07k

Spencer hates hospitals.

He’s not really sure who could like being in one of them, but it’s definitely not him. The hospital brings bad memories, near death experiences, a reminder of his impending mortality—things he already has enough of at work.

Yet work is mainly the reason he finds himself laid out on a hospital bed from time to time, waiting to find out how much of the unsub’s agenda is about to be scarred on his body forever. It’s how he finds himself right now, twiddling his thumbs as he waits for the doctor to come give him an update. Today’s incident, ironically, was him getting caught in the crossfire of a vengeful father out to kill the surgeon who couldn’t operate on his son. It was only his leg that suffered, but he knows the recovery for it is about to be a long and boring journey.

Spencer’s ears perk up at a group of voices most likely a few doors down, outwardly sighing knowing the doctor and their team are about to round on his case next. He just wants to go home. Emily had been texting him updates about Hotch who hadn’t shown up for the case earlier that day, and it only spiraled further when Penelope found out he had been dropped off at the ER on the other side of town with Derek’s stolen credentials. No one’s been able to give him an update since and all he can do is sit in this stupid bed while he suffers in agony.

A knock pulls him out of his head, “Good morning Mr. Reid, mind if I come in?”

He nods aimlessly without looking up just yet, adjusting his body on the bed so he can at least look respectful while sitting up to talk to the doctor.

“How are you feeling today?” you say as you click through his chart on the monitor next to him.

Spencer sighs, “I’ve been better. Oh, I’ve been having these chest pains and I was thinking it’s probably a side effect of the Dilitiazem. Maybe it might be better to switch to—“

The rest of the sentence falls flat on his tongue, because that’s when he finally gets a look at his doctor.

You’re not what he’s expecting out of a doctor, and he swears he means it in the least misogynistic way he can think of. Quite the opposite really, as he thinks he’s definitely discovered the living definition of brains and beauty. You’ve been in the room for all of two minutes, all you’re wearing is scrubs, and yet he’s enticed by every inch of you—by the way your fingers type quickly on the keyboard, your brows furrowed whilst deep in thought, how your lips move when you talk.

Wait, your lips are moving.

“Mr. Reid? Everything okay?” you wave a hand in front of his face, “Your chart didn’t say anything about a head injury, are you feeling dizzy?”

“Uh—Um, d–doctor.” he stutters.

You tilt your head in adorable confusion, his heart squeezes in love at first sight, “Yes, I’m the doctor…are you sure you’re okay?

Smooth, Reid.

“N—No, I um, I’m a doctor too.” he winces out.

“I see, good to know,” you smile, “what kind of doctor are you?”

“Oh, I’m not that kind of doctor,” He should have never learned how to speak. “I have three PhDs.”

“Three? Holy shit, that’s impressive.”

He blushes profusely, thankful the heart rate monitor hasn’t picked up his tell.

“What are they in?” you ask with a genuine interest sparkling in your eyes.

Spencer goes bashful, “I have PhDs in math, engineering, and chemistry. Also two bachelors in sociology and psychology…and I’m working on my philosophy degree right now.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, “Are you like a genius or something?”

“Or something. I have an eidetic memory.” he smiles sheepishly.

“Now that would be useful in medical school, surprised that’s not something you picked up while shopping around for those degrees.”

His face reddens deeper. You’re making jokes, and he’s thinking chapel versus courthouse.

“Just wasn’t interested in it, plus I’m sure the medical world is better off with people like you.”

You grin slowly, “Like me? You just met me.”

“I’m a profiler for the FBI, the behavioral analysis unit?” he says it like a question.

“Oh, I’ve heard of you guys! We see you on the news all the time.” you say excitedly, “What’s your verdict on me then?”

He takes a breath, “I think…you’re very good at what you do. The time it took you to get from the previous patient to my room was longer than average which tells me you’re well liked and respected. And I think I’d be more inclined to lie in a hospital bed if I knew you’d be my doctor.”

“Dr. Reid, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you might be flirting with me.” you say cheekily.

“Is it working?”

“Verdict’s still out.” You wink at him, he nearly flatlines, “So, you think the Dilitiazem isn’t working? What do you think we should switch to?”

“Um…Amlodipine?”

You grin, softly chuckling, “Good call, doctor.” You turn back to the monitor to put the prescription in and close out the chart. “Can I just check your lungs really quick?”

He nods and instantly regrets it when you step closer, the waft of gourmand overwhelming his senses. You unravel your stethoscope and lean down to press the face to his chest, “Deep breath.”

Spencer inhales as best he cans but he knows he’s about to be outed the longer you stand so close to him like this.

“Your lungs sound fine, but your heart's beating really fast.” you giggle as you stand up straight again.

“It does that.” Around really, really, pretty girls.

“Not sure if the Amlodipine alone will help that.”

“No I don’t think so either,” he shuffles awkwardly on the bed, “but…your number might?”

“My number? That’s awfully forward, Dr. Reid,” you beam, “but, if in your educated opinion you find it vital to your recovery and well being…” You scribble your name and number on a post it note, sticking it to the flower vase on the side of his bed. Clicking your pen and sliding it back into your pocket, you head towards the door.

“It was very nice to meet you, doctor.” you turn to him, “See you soon?”

He couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “See you soon, doctor.”

[qlossytbh]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you were in an accident and both you and spencer are figuring out how to deal with it.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 angst, typical criminal minds content, reader gets beat up, physical violence, descriptions of physical injury’s, lots of freaking out, mild panic attack, angst + comfort, established relationship

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.5k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 this fic is inspired entirely on billie’s eilish’s the 30th. haven’t been posting but i’ve got a lot of almost finished drafts and requests im getting through atm

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Sometimes, Spencer hated his limitless memory.

Because of course, it worked wonders when he had to remember important dates, or endless facts that came remarkably handy in cases. Things no one else even considers remembering. Amazing for remembering favorite things of his favorite people, or remembering things they’d previously mentioned liking.

It was amazing until it found ways to haunt him.

He remembered when Morgan pulled to a stop, glancing up at the red light in front of him. He remembered when Penelope typed away aimlessly in the back of the car, reading out a few connections she found between this particular Unsub and the third and hopefully last victim. Everything was fine.

They almost had the case figured out. Hotch had called in, (exactly twenty-three minutes ago) informing them that that you and Emily had a lead on the whereabouts of the Unsub.

He remembered the tone in Morgan’s voice when he picked up the phone. “What?”

Both him and Penelope had glanced his way absentmindedly, not really thinking much of it.

“Do they know who yet?” He had asked, taking a sudden sharp turn towards the left. The pair watched as Morgan’s face fell, and his grip on the steering wheel had tightened. He remembered the look on Penelope’s face as she quickly glanced over at him, who probably looked equally as worried, if not more. Something hadn’t been sitting right, at all— he remembered from the second the day had started something inside him was telling him that.

“What’s going on?” Penelope's voice was shaky when she set her computer down to the side. Spencer just kept his eyes on Derek, narrowing them slightly at the subtle gulp in his throat and the way he nervously looked over at him. Not Penelope, him.

“Derek—“

He remembered when he told him that you had been hurt and how he was unable to think of anything else.

He looked forward towards the road, avoiding the way his co-worker and friend sat up in his seat, straining against his seatbelt as his chest turned to face him. “I don’t know exactly what happened, Hotch just told me she was ambushed and they’re now waiting on the ambulance.”

“Ambulance?” He could’ve sworn his heart dropped into the very pits of his stomach.

Penelope covered her mouth, tears already boring into them with a soft gasp that came from her mouth. “Is she okay?”

Derek’s mouth twisted into a straight line as he opened his mouth to speak and Spencer swore he had never felt as much panic course through him.

He didn’t usually freak out, but he swore his head just stopped working right there and then. All he was able to think about was getting to you. “They don’t know—“

“Drive.” Spencer told Derek. With a firm nod and no room for complaint, he stepped on the gas pedal, signaling on the sirens as he swerved through the streets.

Six minutes and thirty five point two seconds.

That's how long it took for them to get to the scene, where two ambulances and cop cars seemed displayed around the small suburban home. He felt time move as if it were in slow motion.

The car hadn’t even come to a stop and Spencer was already stumbling throughout the door, pushing his shaky legs towards the already chaotic scene.

Unbearable noises surrounded him— people clattering and shouting about, orders being thrown around aimlessly, sirens and bypassers stopping to gasp and gaunt at the scene.

Two officers were down on the floor, covered by a simple thin white cloth and he felt the nausea settle in. Just the thought of one of them being you made his knees grow weak and the bile quickly hike its way up his throat.

Before he could rush around in attempts to find you, his eyes landed on Hotch, hunched over a moving stretcher surrounded by about three, maybe even more, medics.

It all seemed visceral. An automatic response. Soon enough his legs were pushing him towards the stretcher that made its way towards the ambulance. “Hotch—“

He turned around, and allowed just enough space to reveal your absolutely destroyed form. Your eyes kept fluttering open and close, seemingly bothered by all the noise and light. Your breathing sounded strangled, covered by the oxygen mask you had on but the sound alone was something Spencer was sure would haunt him until the day he died.

He still remembered.

Spencer felt like he had been punched in the stomach. All he could do was push one of the medics aside and hunch over you as you fought against the universe itself to regain consciousness.

“Hey,” He cooed, voice tightening and nearly breaking in a cry. He cleared his throat and blinked through his tears, smiling down at you.

You couldn’t say a single word, but you mustered enough strength to lift your pinky, grazing it against his knuckles. Your face showed a much different reaction though, furrowing your brows in what seemed to be excruciating pain.

“She’s mostly unresponsive,” The medics informed. Spencer followed them alongside Hotch, until they got to the ambulance, clicking the stretcher upwards.

“Hey, listen to me,” He whispered, ducking down so he was closer to you. “I love you, okay?”

Your small fist grabbed the fabric of his shirt, not wanting him to leave your side, but it was hurting you too much to hold on. Your fist feebly fell and the medics somehow pushed him off and you were taken into the ambulance and he really didn’t know if that was the last time he’d see you.

He watched the doors slam shut, frozen completely in his place. He remembered watching the ambulance drive away and having to stop his legs from running after it. He remembered Hotch trying to grab his attention from the disappearing ambulance.

He remembered thinking non-stop but for the first time ever, wanting to stop it and not being able to.

Something so alarming started to awaken within him and he wasn’t really sure what to do with himself.

He spent thirteen hours and sixteen minutes in the hospital that night and next morning. Hotch and the others came by in turns to keep him company in the cold empty waiting room, but he didn’t budge.

The second to stay the most was Emily, given how she was also attacked at the scene but much less severely. She ended up with a few bruises and scratches— she silently wished it had been more.

Maybe then the damage on you would’ve been less.

He remembered sitting with Morgan and the others when the doctors came in, informing him that you had gone into hypovolemic shock and they needed to perform an emergency surgery to stop the internal bleeding that was causing your vitals to plummet.

Spencer even remembered, word by word and syllable by syllable that there was a high chance that you may not even wake up from the surgery due to how much trauma your body had received.

Three broken ribs, dozens, maybe hundreds, lacerations scattered across your arms and stomach, a ruptured spleen and a concussion. That wasn’t even including all the bits of physiological trauma you now had to attack once— and if— you woke up.

Spencer seriously felt his resolve to remain calm crumple the second the medics mentioned that the Unsub used a metal pole to beat you nearly to death.

He had asked for every detail and he remembered each one and how utterly hopeless they all made him feel. He cried, because he simply didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know how to fix it, or how to help— he wasn’t even sure he could.

Because what if he had been there instead of Emily? What if he was able to stop it? What if more backup was sent in, what if when you had told him you felt off this morning when going into work he’d tell you to stay put and rest it off? What would’ve happened then?

What if he would’ve gone with Emily instead of you, what if you were actually lifeless when they had found you? What if you didn’t wake up? What if this meant he’d never get to hold you for a last time, and had to stick with the memory of seeing you bloody and bruised. What if you never actually—

“Reid,” Spencer looked up from his palms, which holstered themselves on his knees by his elbows. Emily smiled at him meekly. “She’s awake,”

Spencer looked around, blinking heavily and realizing he was in the same cold hospital waiting room he’s been in for the past day and a half.

He opened his mouth to speak, but realized it was incredibly dry. Too dry. He cleared out his throat with a firm cough and nodded, standing up feebly.

They walked down the quiet hallway, something so heavy hanging in the air. Just the patterning of his shoes and Emily’s heels bouncing off the walls along with the shuffling of their clothes. Spencer swore he wouldn’t be okay until he saw you but even then he didn’t think he’d be okay. How was any of this going to be okay?

Emily led him to a door and when they pushed it open, you were staring at the wall, seemingly in some kind of deep whirlwind of thoughts. A small knock offered by Emily caught your attention. You turned your head to the side, probably expecting another endless round of nurses. But to your surprise, there stood the one person you’d been wanting to see after this whole ordeal.

A broad yet tired smile made its way onto your face while laying back into the pillows. Spencer took you in, letting out a shaky breath. Your hair was disheveled, and your eyes looked tired. Soft and welcoming but hiding something so much deeper underneath that he’d have to be an idiot to not notice it.

There was a stitch on your forehead and the lash line of one of your eyes protruded a growing dark purple bruise. There were machines and cables and needles stuck beside and into you. And the more Spencer noticed, the more he wished he hadn’t.

“Hey,” Your voice was raspier than usual, small and steady, Spencer noticed this.

But then you smiled just like you used to before the accident and he couldn’t have found you any more beautiful.

“Hey,” He finally answered, walking up to the side of your bed. “How— How are you feeling?”

“I’ll give you guys some privacy.” Emily said, slipping past the door and leaving the two of you to your own accord.

“I’m okay,” You whispered, sounding so small and frail it nearly broke any ounce of self control he was mustering to avoid breaking into tears. “The pain meds are helping a bit,”

He gave you a silent understanding nod. His hand held onto the railing of your bed, not entirely knowing what to say or how to act. You watched him intently, noticing how he couldn’t really bring himself to look at you.

“Do you remember anything?” You turned to stare at the wall, trying to recall anything about the attack, but you unfortunately— some would argue fortunately— didn’t.

You shifted in your bed, scrunching your face in pain in the process, which Spencer noticed. Again. Of course he did.

Spencer looked down at you, dangerously entering territory where the back of his eyes burned, and his own mind bit at him, and he just didn’t know what to do with all the huge feelings that swarmed around inside him.

“Not really,” You muttered, scrunching your nose with a small huff. Spencer reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and letting his hand cup the side of your cheek.

“You really scared me,” You leaned into the touch of his palm.

“I’m sorry,” He shook his head before he even spoke, blinking rapidly to prevent any tears from falling.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I almost died,”

Okay, they were starting there. Great.

You had said it in barely above a whisper, staring at your lap and preventing Spencer from getting a look in your eyes. Your lips tugged into a frown. And Spencer said your name, trying to catch your attention.

Suddenly it all hit you. The gravity of it all. It came in stronger than a tidal wave, than a slap you didn’t even see coming. You felt the burning in your ribs, the rips and tears in your skin, the slight swell of your eye, the rattling of your own skull.

Spencer pulled out a chair and sat on it to level himself to your height. He reached out a hand and laced his fingers with yours.

It felt hard to breathe.

More silence.

“You okay?” You sucked in a sharp breath that came out as a little squeak, and suddenly you wanted to cry. Because you were tired of feeling so broken and feeling how every inch of your body hurt.

You shook your head and as soon as you did, a broken sob left your mouth. Your hands flew up quickly, attempting to hide the broken fragments of your gaze. Spencer heard every shard of the glass his heart had been made of around you shatter. He sat up, attempting to hold you from the side in any way he could, letting you cry out all the trauma you received in the past two days.

And you did cry it out, and your ribs burned, your head was pounding and you felt every ache and bruise in your body worsen. Seeing you like this hurt him more than any pain that had ever been inflicted on him.

Spencer pulled away from you once you had calmed down enough and brought one hand to the side of your face, leisurely dragging his thumb against your cheek bone and anywhere any stray tears fell.

“Dang it,” You sniffled, bringing the back of your palm up and rubbing your nose. “This is not how I wanted you to see me after my mini coma,”

Spencer knew you couldn’t keep serious for more than fifteen minutes at a time even if your life depended on it. He’d let you stall the situation this time however. He knows the two of you needed it.

“You look so pretty,” You smiled at his words, looking at him with so much gratitude and leaning into his palm, trying to find refuge in it.

“I bet I do,” You narrowed your eyes at him and he leaned forward pressing a kiss to your lips. You grabbed the wrist of the hand that held your face while he kissed you and gave it a small squeeze, hopefully letting him know how much you cared and appreciated him.

He pulled away, sitting back into the chair but intertwining his fingers with yours, reminding himself to always drag his fingers comfortingly across your knuckles and allow you to know he wasn’t ever leaving your side again.

“They had to change my IV needle,” You decided to stall for a bit. “The vein on my right arm wasn’t doing the job.”

“Really?” He knew that wasn’t entirely possible and that the doctors probably did an ass job at inserting it there in the first place, but he let you wonder on. “How’d that feel?”

“Im afraid of needles, but!-“ You shuffled a little bit around on your pillow for more comfort, huffing proudly. “I squeezed my eyes and tried thinking back on that book that talks about marxist criticism you read to me last week,”

He smiled warmly, bringing your hand over to him and kissing your wrist. “My brave girl,”

You let out a laugh, and he knew then he’d sleep a little better that night. He always did when you were by him.

“Hey Spence,”

“Yeah?”

“Can you stay?” You asked earnestly.

Spencer squeezed your hand. “Your pain meds are hitting you stronger than you thought if you think for a second that i’m leaving your side,”

You smiled. “I’m not going anywhere angel, I promise.”

The two of you basked in each other's silence. You closed your eyes and tried to alleviate the burning in your lungs as your breath shaked from the crying. Spencer just watched you, appreciating a while longer the small freckles and marks across your face.

“Spence,” He hummed, “I’m scared.”

He sighed heavily. Suddenly realizing that this wasn’t something easy to come. And he was too, because he almost lost the love of his life and he didn’t know what that information would do to him, much less to you.

For the first time, Spencer was out of smart answers and reasons why this would all be okay. It was hard for him to think he’d never feel this scared of loosing you again, and that idea haunted him.

“So am I,”

[anakinstwinklebunny]

bunny oh my heavens you're such an amazing writer like I stumbled upon your account and I'm obsessed rn. Like I read all of Teen Dad Sam Monroe and I was gagged when I realized I finished it so quickly-

So I was thinking if we could get a background story about how Sam Monroe and reader met? Or about how Sam was there while reader was pregnant? Ofc totally up to you queen

🦇 - bat anon

Author's note: YAUYUYYY WELCOME 🦇 NONNIE IN BUNNY'S FAMILY‼️‼️ tysm for all the kind words, hugging you tight till we both can't breathe 🙂‍↕️😝

You weren’t supposed to be his type. Too sweet, too cheerful, too goddamn put-together for someone like SAM MONROE, who barely survived each day and bitterness was like his second skin. He didn’t even notice you at first--why would he? You were everything good, everything bright, and he? Well, he was the guy skipping class, chain-smoking behind the school, and growling at anyone who dared look at him too long.

But you? You were relentless all the damn time. Not in an annoying way tho, but in a way that scratched at his walls without him even realizing. You’d smile at him in class, offer him notes he didn’t ask for, and one day, when he was sketching aimlessly during a particularly boring lecture, you’d leaned over and whisper, “That’s really good. Do you do this often?”

It threw him off, the softness in your voice, the way you didn’t seem disgusted in him or scared like everyone else. He’d shrugged, mumbling something about “just messin’ around,” and waited for you to look away. But you didn’t. You kept looking, asking questions, smiling like you weren’t sitting next to the grumpiest asshole in school.

But Sam wasn’t the kind of guy you were supposed to talk to, let alone fall for. He was trouble--every teacher at school said it, every kid whispered it. He walked the halls with that slouched, pissed-off posture, earbuds in. He didn’t care about his reputation, and he sure as hell didn’t care about people around him.

But you? You weren’t scared of him, and that pissed him the most.

Leaving the school's building you caught him behind the bleachers, a cigarette between his fingers, time to time between his lips while he sketched on the back of some crumpled notebook paper. Of course, Sam could feel you standing there like you saw a ghost yet, he didn't dare to look up at you, simply confronting you in the grumpiest way possible about your staring problem “What? Come to tell me I’m ruining my life?” he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Not really,” you said simply, voice calm as you stepped closer, leaning against the railing. “Just wondering what you’re drawing this time.”

That made him pause. Blue eyes flicked up to meet yours, suspicion written all over his face. But when you didn’t laugh or tease him like everyone else, he shoved the paper in his pocket without a care it would probably be destroyed afterwards “Nothin’. Just some stupid house.”

“You gonna build it someday?”

Sam blinked, caught completely off guard. “Maybe,” he muttered, shrugging like it didn’t matter. But for the first time, someone had seen past the walls he’d put up, and it scared him just as much as it intrigued him.

---

After a few weeks of you making a small talk with him, being super nice and super sweet, Sam himself began to try to make a small talk. Yet, he didn’t like how much he started looking forward to seeing you each day. It just felt..weird.. dangerous, to let someone like you get so close to him. But still he couldn't help it when you'd catch him in the hall, offering a soft smile that always made his stomach twist in a way he couldn’t explain. He’d walk you home after school, even if it meant dealing with the nosy neighbors who always gave him side-eye for his, in their opinion, demonic style.

And when more time passed, it turned into a thing--you and him. You’d sit with him at lunch, even when he would mutter, “Don’t you have better people to hang out with?” You’d drag him to study sessions, ignoring his protests that “school’s a waste of time.” And slowly, he stopped fighting it. He even looked out to all those meetings with you. To share classes with you he hated so much. To have you drag him to the library, the place he'd never been in, and help him study, help him learn.

Around you, he immediately softened--no, he wasn’t sweet, not in the traditional sense at least, but he had this gruff affection that came through in little ways. Like how he’d stand between you and a group of loud guys at lunch, glaring until they finally shut up. Or how he’d hand you his hoodie without a word if you so much as shivered and even force you to put it on, not taking any buts and no's for an answer

He didn’t smile much, but you caught that he started doing this thing where he’d smirk whenever you said something dumb or tripped over your words. He also started waiting for you by your locker, even if he pretended like it was no big deal. And when some jerk made a snide comment about you “slumming it” with Sam, he’d take care of it in his own way

---

So it wasn’t long before you were more than just friends. He kissed you for the first time in his car after a late-night drive. It was awkward--his lips chapped, hands clumsy. First sex came year later, in his room while his parents were out of the town with his stepbrothers.

He didn't last eight second.

You’d expected him to bolt, honestly. That’s what everyone said he’d do--Sam Monroe, the screw-up, the guy who never took anything seriously. But instead, he stayed. Although he did pace the length of your room, he did run his hands through his hair, and he did mutter curses all over, “Shit, shit, shit,” under his breath. "I fucking pulled out! I---i swear!! This fucking isn't real..I-im only seventeen for God's sake" he groaned, anxiously sitting on the edge of your bed

You didn't really use much protection..You just trusted when Sam would say he pulled out in time or use some old condom his friend gave him. So when your period was getting late, when you out of the sudden had nausea..you took the damned test. Out of sanity of your overthinking mind. But hell, did you prepare yourself for it to be positive..

The first time you told Sam you were pregnant, he froze. Like, fully stopped breathing, face going pale as he stared at you. “You’re… what?” voice cracking in a way that would’ve been funny if the situation wasn’t so serious.

“Ehm--wha--what do you want to do?” he asked, voice quiet, almost scared, eyes finally locking with yours. And when you said you wanted to keep it, he nodded, exhaled, hide his face in his hands with jaw tight. “Okay..um... okay..Then-- we’ll--figure it out, I guess..But I need time to think, alright?”

---

Sam threw himself into trying to figure it out. He started taking an odd jobs, fixing up cars for cash and doing whatever he could to scrape together some money. He hated asking his mom for help, even more his stepdad, but when it came to you and the baby, he swallowed his pride.

But still, he was himself in all of that--grumpy, sarcastic, and stubborn as hell. “You’re not eating that,” he’d grumble when he saw you reaching for something unhealthy, swatting it out of your hand and replacing it with an apple. But then, a few hours later, you’d find your favorite snacks hidden in your bag because he couldn’t stand to see you looking so upset.

Sam didn’t suddenly become the perfect boyfriend—damn, he never was---but he tried. He took on extra shifts at some crappy diner, even though he hated every second of it. He’d show up at your house with random things, like pickles and ice cream, grumbling, “Dunno if you wanted this, but whatever.”

He argued with his mom constantly about the baby, about how he was going to be a dad at such young age..

But it wasn’t all bad. Sometimes, late at night, he’d lie next to you, hand splayed over your belly, whispering, “Hey, little dude" (he was sure as heck it was going to be a boy) "It’s your dad....or whatever.. you're just my sperm..But..Don’t give your mom too much trouble, yeah?” He’d laugh quietly, breath warm against your tummy “She’s already got enough dealing with me.”

[rmadridcore]

Between Us - Part 1

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Reader

Summary: You and Kylian have been inseparable friends for years, but when unspoken feelings bubble to the surface, everything changes.

Word Count: 2.5K

Part 2 Part 3 Epilogue

Masterlist

Author's note: Hi! Omg this feels so surreal. I have been planning to start writing for the longest time and I can't believe I managed to finally get to it. This is my very first fic so I would LOVE to hear all of your opinions, I’m open to your feedback 🩷 Also, english is not my first language but I’ll try my best to make sure there are no errors. There will be more parts to come shortly. I have the second part almost finished and I’m planning for it to be 3 or 4 part series with a possible epilogue. Anyway, have a nice read and please tell me what you guys think! 🫂 P.S my messages are always open if you have any questions or if you would just like to chat 💌

“What are these for?” Kylian yells playfully as he roams around your room, inspecting everything with the curiosity of a child. His voice echoes from the bathroom doorway, where you're busy applying the finishing touches to your makeup. Turning around slightly, you see him holding up an eyelash curler, a puzzled look on his face.

“It’s used to curl your eyelashes,” you respond absentmindedly, focused on perfecting your eyeliner. Kylian squints at the strange device, his lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“Looks like a garlic press,” he snorts, placing the curler back down on the cluttered sink, where your makeup is messily scattered.

He’s been wandering aimlessly around the room for what feels like hours, clearly bored and restless as he waits for you to get ready for the charity gala. He’s always waiting, never complaining, even when you take your time. It’s something about Kylian that never fails to surprise you — the effortless patience he has when it comes to you.

You leave the bathroom, stepping into the room where he’s perched on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the fluffy blanket as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. He’s dressed to perfection in an all-black designer suit, looking like he stepped straight out of a high-fashion photoshoot. The way the suit hugs his broad shoulders and the glimmer in his eyes when he sees you makes your heart flutter.

“You look stunning,” he says with a proud smile, his voice soft but sure. The blush creeping up your cheeks is impossible to hide, and he notices, grinning even wider.

“We don’t have to stay until the end,” he reassures you as you both settle into the backseat of the sleek black car waiting outside. He knows you too well, senses your discomfort at the idea of a long night surrounded by the elite. “We’ll stay for dinner, make our appearance, and we can leave whenever you want.”

His thoughtfulness touches you deeply. He knows how much you dislike these events — how they’re filled with pretentious people who only show up to flaunt their wealth. But you endure it, for him, and somehow that means more to him than he ever lets on.

You’ve known Kylian forever, since you were six and his mom invited yours to bring you to his seventh birthday party. The memories are blurry, but the birthday card you gave him that day still sits in his drawer. Unbeknownst to you, it’s one of his most cherished possessions.

As Kylian’s fame grew over the years, with him moving to Monaco and becoming a global star, you stayed in touch. He made sure of it. It wasn’t easy, especially as your feelings for him began to deepen, becoming more complicated and overwhelming. Falling in love with your best friend, a best friend who is adored by millions and surrounded by beautiful women, felt like the cruelest twist of fate.

It was a secret you carried alone, a burden that weighed on your heart every time you saw him with someone else. The girls that threw themselves at him didn’t seem to bother him; in fact, he enjoyed the attention. And why wouldn’t he? Kylian was magnetic, and you couldn't blame them for wanting him. What hurt most was knowing you could never compete with that — not when he saw you as just his best friend.

“I’m very glad you could make it. We’re always so happy to see you here,” a man across the dinner table says warmly to Kylian after you both take your seats. Kylian responds politely, his charm ever-present, before the man’s eyes land on you.

“I see you’re here with company. Would you care to introduce your beautiful lady to us?”

Kylian’s arm drapes casually over the back of your chair, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder.

“This is Y/N, my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

The man chuckles, embarrassed, and offers an awkward apology. Kylian laughs it off, but the words linger in your chest, twisting something deep inside. His best friend. That’s all you’ve ever been, no matter how many times he brings you as his date to these events, holds your hand, or tells you how beautiful you look. Each gesture feels like an evil tease, a reminder of what you want but can never have.

You watch him as he chats with the guests, his side profile as striking as ever. His sharp jawline, the curve of his nose, the way his eyes light up when he’s animated. To the world, he’s handsome, charismatic, sexy. But to you, Kylian is beautiful, in every sense of the word. It’s not just his looks; it’s the kindness in his heart, the way he smiles, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room.

“Are you comfortable? We can leave whenever you want,” Kylian leans in to whisper, his breath sending shivers down your spine as it brushes against your ear. It’s such a simple question, but the intimacy of the moment makes your pulse race. How you long for him to whisper sweet nothings, to share his thoughts with you and only you.

“No, I’m fine. We can stay a little longer. I heard the dessert’s supposed to be amazing,” you whisper back, earning a soft chuckle from him.

After dessert, most of the guests get up to mingle, dance, or grab drinks. You excuse yourself from the table, telling Kylian you’re headed to the bar for a cocktail. He offers to come with you, but you decline, not wanting to interrupt his conversation.

You order a Mimosa and settle on one of the stools, enjoying a rare moment of solitude when a voice breaks your thoughts.

“Hey,” says a deep voice beside you. You glance over to see a blonde guy, probably in his late twenties, with a genuinely sweet smile.

“I haven’t seen you here before. People who attend these things are usually regulars,” he says with curiosity.

You smile politely, a little taken aback by the sudden conversation. “I’m here with a friend. His foundation is involved.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you call Kylian your friend. Even though it’s the truth, it feels like a lie.

The blonde introduces himself as Louis, and you exchange small talk. He’s polite and charming, though the jokes he cracks don’t quite make you laugh the way Kylian’s do. You’re pleasantly surprised at how easily the conversation flows, but when he asks if you’d like to dance, you glance at your empty glass and decide it’s time to return to the table.

Back at the table, Kylian is chatting with a seven year old boy, Leo, who you remember from a party at his parents’ house Kylian has brought you to about a month ago. You greet Leo with a huge smile, and the boy rushes over to give you a hug, his small arms wrapping around you tightly. Kylian watches the interaction with a proud grin, his eyes twinkling with affection.

After chatting with Leo about his football obsession, his new kitten called Sushi and his annoying grammar teacher at school, his parents came to say goodbye and head home, as Leo’s bedtime was getting closer.

“How was your cocktail?” Kylian asks once Leo and his parents leave.

“Delicious,” you reply with a grin. “You sure you don’t want anything?”

“Nah. I’m on my best behavior tonight,” he says, leaning his cheek on his hand, his gaze locked on you.

The way he’s looking at you, through his long lashes, eyes full of warmth, almost makes you lose your composure.

The amount of self-control you've developed over the years, thanks to him, is staggering. There have been countless moments when you've had to stop yourself from plastering kisses all over his face, from giving in to the overwhelming desire that courses through you every time you’re near him. It’s beyond your ability to count how many times you've held back.

If only he knew how you dream about the taste of his lips, how you’ve imagined his touch in ways he could never guess. Sometimes, the urge to shout your love for him feels almost unbearable. To tell him, without hesitation, how much he means to you, how deeply you care, how profoundly he has changed your life. You’ve fantasized about spilling everything, about finally unburdening your heart of the love that’s been trapped inside for so long.

Maybe, just maybe, if you told him, you could breathe again. You could sleep peacefully, without the weight of unspoken emotions suffocating you at night. If you could just embrace these forbidden feelings, let them free, maybe you wouldn’t feel so lost, so torn between what you have and what you desperately want.

But no. Kylian has helped you build up an incredible amount of self-control, without even realizing it. He’s made you master the art of restraint, but in doing so, he’s also kept you from building the courage you need to tell him the truth. To risk everything, even if it means losing him forever.

And that’s a risk you’re still too afraid to take.

The night passes, and as guests begin to leave for the after-party, you and Kylian head to the car.

“You can go to the after-party if you want,” you offer sincerely. “I don’t mind going home alone.”

“I’d rather come home with you,” he says, stopping in his tracks to hold the car door open for you.

You hesitate, but his insistence is genuine. No matter how many times you’ve told him it’s fine for him to go out without you, he never does. He always chooses you.

“You know that if you keep asking, it won’t change anything, right?” Kylian grins as he playfully nudges your side. “I’m your permanent plus one for quiet nights at home. Get used to it.” He opens the car door for you with a flourish, always the gentleman. You roll your eyes in mock exasperation, but inside, your heart is doing a victory dance. Another cozy night in with him — it’s everything you secretly want.

The drive back is calm, filled with the comfortable silence that exists between two people who have known each other forever. It’s a silence that speaks louder than words, a silence that tells you neither of you needs to fill the gaps. Kylian’s presence is enough to bring you peace, and you wonder if he feels the same.

Memories flood your mind, like that one time after a particularly tough match. Kylian had come straight to your apartment, his face heavy with disappointment. He didn’t need to say anything; you knew exactly what he needed. He had flopped onto your couch, resting his head in your lap as you softly stroked his hair. For hours, he laid there in silence, listening to the steady rhythm of your breathing. You didn’t offer words of comfort because he didn’t need them, he just needed you.

It’s moments like those that make your heart ache. He needs you, but not in the way you want him to. To him, you’re his safe space, the person who can make the world quiet when it’s too loud. But what if you want more than that? What if you crave the noise, the chaos of love, the passion that makes your heart race?

When you arrive home, you quickly wipe off your makeup, exchanging your dress for a comfortable pair of sweats. Kylian’s already on the couch, lounging in the sweatpants he keeps in your closet for nights like these. He’s scrolling through Netflix, looking for something to watch.

“Who was the guy you were talking to at the bar?” he asks suddenly, not even looking up from the screen as you take a seat next to him.

The question catches you off guard. “What?” You blink at him, surprised. You hadn’t even realized he saw you talking to Louis. He could’ve asked about it a million times already, but why now?

“The guy at the bar,” Kylian shrugs, still trying to make it sound like a casual question, but there’s an edge to his tone.

“Oh, Louis? I just met him tonight,” you reply, playing it off like it’s nothing.

“Seems weird, that’s all,” Kylian mumbles, finally meeting your eyes. His brows are furrowed, and you can’t quite figure out why he’s bothered by this.

“We only talked for like 15 minutes,” you say with a shrug, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.

Kylian says nothing for a moment, just nods and changes the subject, asking if the movie he picked is okay. You agree, and the two of you settle into your usual spot on the couch. About three minutes into the movie, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer, and you rest your head against his chest. His scent, fresh and familiar, wraps around you like a warm blanket.

These moments, these “friendly cuddles,” are frequent in your two decade long friendship. But to you, they mean so much more. In these fleeting moments, you let yourself pretend. Pretend that you’re not just his best friend, but something more. Ten out of ten strangers would think you were a couple, relaxing after a long day. And in these moments, you let that fantasy wash over you.

His hand moves absentmindedly, gently stroking your back. His chin rests on the top of your head, as though your bodies were designed to fit together. It feels perfect. But it’s also tragic.

Because Kylian isn’t yours. He never will be. No matter how many times you share these intimate, quiet moments, no matter how much his presence fills the empty spaces in your life, you’re always going to be his best friend. And while he never leaves your thoughts, you wonder if you ever truly cross his mind in the same way.

The movie plays on, but you’re not watching. You’re lost in the sound of his heartbeat, the warmth of his body against yours, and the ache in your chest that never seems to go away.

How many times have you thought about telling him? Telling him how deeply you’ve fallen for him. But the fear is always there, lurking in the back of your mind. The fear that if you tell him, everything will change. The easy laughter, the shared silences, the comforting hugs. All of it could disappear in an instant.

The movie ends, and Kylian stretches, letting out a content sigh. “That was good,” he says, still half-drowsy. “Y/N, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you reply with a smile, but inside, you’re screaming.

The guests at the gala had moved on to an after-party, but here you are, curled up on the couch with the one person who unknowingly holds your heart in his hands.

As you walk towards the door to go to bed, you pause, wanting to say something — anything. But the words don’t come.

And so, the night ends like all the others. With him, but not truly yours.

[spoopieere]

A collection of my Asa Emory headcanons [PART 1]: Shit he does to his body and his stupid bodily quirks <3

I need y'all to see the version of Asa in my mind :3

RULE OF THUMB: Asa is autistic. I do not take criticisms on this.

Asa bites his lips a lot, peeling off the skin of his bottom lip, either by biting or picking with his hand in general. He does so because he is either bored, anxious, or stimming. It goes to a point where his lip would bleed, and scars, which causes little black spots to form on his bottom lip. --

His teeth is slightly crooked. A bit yellow too. But his dental hygiene is on point, he flosses everyday, and does everything he can to avoid having to go to the dentist. Because the idea of some stranger digging around in his mouth makes him anxious. I think he was afraid of going to the dentist as a child and it persisted until adulthood, which is why he didn't get braces for his crooked teeth. But I think he also applies that fear by inficting it on his victims instead, because even HE thinks it's scary. --

His eyes look like that due to a birth defect. He was blind for the first few years of his life, which made his hearing develop way more than the average person. Even after the surgery, his vision is still affected and he has to wear aiding eye-contacts to see properly, or else everything would just be blurry to him. Sometimes trade the contacts for prescription glasses. --

Asa smokes, sure, but he doesn't do it often. He'd mostly have one or two cigs during long periods of working/planning. You won't catch him smoking anywhere else that isn't the hotel, his home, or behind the university at night. --

Asa doesn't like being seen/watched while he's eating. Asa has a weird relationship with eating i guess. He hates eating in the presence of people who he doesn't trust. He thinks the sight of his chewing makes him look clumsy, or "not up the image he made for himself" infront of the people who looks up to him (or afraid of him). --

Which is why bro fucking eats his lunch in his car during lunchbreaks at the university. God forbid you dare find him while he's chewing on his food, he might just put you in the collection for that reason alone. --

Stims very quietly, usually goes unnoticed. He'll stim by flicking his tongue inside his mouth, or does light tapping with his hand under the table, wriggling his toes also works. When he gets happy and needs to stim, he'd just stare into the distance with a fuckass smile on his face, before walking around aimlessly. He'd try to make sense of the walking by sitting down, and try to do something, but would end up getting up to walk around again. Rinse and repeat until the excitement fades. --

Hates sudden and/or prolonging loud noises. --

Asa loves the rain, but absolutely hates the sound of it. If it gets too loud, he's putting on ear muffs. But due this hatred, it makes it very hard for him to drive home during rainstorms bc the sound of rain is amplified in his car. So usually he'd choose between waiting for the rain to calm down; Ask someone to drive him home so he can have his earmuffs on during the ride; If it's at the university, he'd just sleep in his office. (Asa has a stash of his stuff in his office at the univeristy, just in case he has to stay there overnight) --

Absolutely has a 2nd job or does some shady shit at the side. Because I refuse to believe he has the money to afford all that gear, resources, materials and drugs for his Collection, with a Uni Prof's salary. (His pest control business might be a front for money laundering lmao /j) --

At night, while it rains, Asa would brew Jasmine tea before bed to help him sleep. --

Light sleeper. Will literally wakes up to anything that sounds out-of-place. He also sleeps straight like a log, hands on stomach and all. God forbid he has a stuffy nose or else he'll snore for the neighbors to hear. --

He eats primarily simple, easy and and quick-to-make food due to his... busy schedule *cough*. This also includes frozen dinners, takeouts and left-overs. But he tries to cook at home whenever he can. --

Asa only visit a specific restaurant for a specific dish, he will not order anything else, nor would he go to any other restaurant for that dish. He can taste it whenever the recipe for the dish changes, to which he will evaluate and decide whether he should stick to the same restaurant for that dish anymore. --

He judges a restaurant based on their mashed potatoes. I will not elaborate. --

Asa likes mushroom cream soup :3 --

Fav flavour of ice-cream is pistachio :3 --

It is also mentioned in an interview ( I can't fucking find it yet ) that Asa is a coffee snob, so I won't be surprised if he wakes up at 5AM just to make his morning coffee to perfection. --

His hands aren't as smooth as one like to think. They feel a bit sandy and rough. Stiff. You need to slightly squeeze in order to feel the squishiness of his flesh. This is primarily due to his exposure to chemicals, and all the disinfectant damaged some of his skin. --

Sleeper build. He may look stocky and a bit blurby, but he got good muscles under all that fat hehe. All that hauling and carrying and running and killing and torturing people leaves him exercised enough lol --

Nature, history, science,... documentaries are his go-tos, he'd even listen to some podcasts or audiobooks about them as he works on other projects. Currently subscribed to AntsCanada on Youtube. --

His guilty pleasure is watching shitty reality TV shows and judging the contestants' skills. --

Hypochondriac. He especially does not want to die from a random stroke. --

Hygiene must be on point. He shaves regularly, but his bush does get kinda crazy. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE STOP HIM FROM ERASING HIS HAPPY TRAIL PLEA- --

Asa dresses like his father. He doesn't want to admit it, nor does he realize it, but he dresses like his father. Denims, jeans, trousers and old dress shirts... His style hasn't changed much over the years. Because it is the "appropriate" style for men like him to wear, apparently. One of the few clothing items he ever strays away from that dress-code is his signature turtleneck. He has like 6 of them in the same color. --

His daily life is a constant carousel of tasks he NEEDS to get done. They don't have to be on time, they just need to be done. Or else he'd get very upset. One can say that his life is motivated by tasks. Once he ran out of tasks to do, he'd just make up one to distract himself. Even resting, is a task. Because he knows if he doesn't choose a time to rest, his body will do it for him. One can even say that Asa is dependent on these tasks to keep going, or do things "on time". For example: He wakes up at 5AM on the weekends, because there are plants that NEEDS HIM to water them. And because of these plants, he is able to wake up at 5AM on the weekends. --

Gets hurt more than he'd like to admit. But most of the time it's just small injuries or cuts, or him bumping into something. Nothing too dangerous. He knows how to keep himself safe from the maze he built at the hotel and avoid all the neccessary attacks from his victims, and that's enough. --

His favourite weekend activity is catching, pinning new INSECT specimens, and visiting the local museum- which he had already visited hundreds of times, and can recite most of the descriptions word for word. --

He gets jealous of the families outside his window sometimes. Whenever he sees them, he'd just draw the curtains close. --

He lives in the same house his family was murdered in. (Buying a house??? in this economy???) He just renovated the first floor, the 2nd floor is almost untouched. He sleeps in his parents' old bedroom. His sibling's bedroom got turned into storage. His childhood bedroom is behind a bookshelf. The layout is the same, but he moved the kitchen and livingroom to a different area. He can still recall where he saw his mother's and sibling's body laid. He put storage boxes and crates over those spots.

That's all i can remember for now lmaooo, might come back from time to time to update it :333 -More parts abt other aspects of Asa coming... soon >:) PART 2!

[tearsaura]

No need no use pt. 3 // Eris Vanserra x healer!reader

AN: Yes I am Alive! I am so sorry that you guys had to wait this long but exam season was crazy. I hope you guys like this one. (This isn‘t proof read btw.)

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: none

“I’ll give you some crushed up mint leaves. You need to smear it on the temples, it helps to relieve the pain” I said and stepped back from the maid, Ilysa, turning back to my shelf with the various vials and leaves.

“Thank you so much Y/N. I am sorry for taking up your time-” “No don’t apologize. That’s what I am here for.” I replied, putting the small vial in her hand. Ilysa smiled, before squeezing my hand. “It’s so nice to have you here. I hope that you stay.” “Doesn’t look like I’ll leave any time soon.” I replied smugly, grinning. She grinned back and left.

I quickly tidied up the space, before leaving the healing quarters.

365 days.

365 days had passed since I came to autumn.

365 days since my life nearly ended and I started a new one.

And it was a pretty good one so far.

I walked back to my room; it was nearly time for dinner but I wanted to freshen up before I joined Eris and lady Autumn. Somehow, these two have become the closest thing one could call a family. Lady Autumn is breathtakingly beautiful and the more time I spent around her, the more I detest Baron. Not only did he put is whole court into absolute misery, but he also took this beautiful, caring soul and destroyed her.

“She loves the Lucien the most” Eris confessed one night, we sat at the balcony of his study, looking into the starry night. “He resembles her the most out of us brothers. The rest of us remind her of Beron” He whispered as he stared afar. I bit my lip, studying his features.

It had been fourth months since I arrived at autumn and started to work as the High lord’s healer. It had also been four months since the last time I reached for my powers. 

I had learned to read Eris’ emotions pretty well by now. The slight tick in his jaw when he was mad, the way his nostrils flared for the slightest when he was upset, how his dimples only showed when his laugh was genuine. But now, he just went silent. He was biting down on his tongue as he cracked his fingers. “Hm. I think killing her husband catapulted you at least to the second place” I grinned. He smiled, before looking to the ground.

“Actually, I think the second place belongs to you”

“There you are my darling!” Lady Autumn exclaimed softly as I walked into the kitchen, pulling out the chair next to Eris and ushering me to sit down. “I am sorry for the wait-“

“Nonsense! The stew just finished cooking.” She replied, placing down the pot on the middle of the table. Ilysa followed her around aimlessly, before the former ushered her to sit down too. I turned to Eris to see him already smiling at me.

“I think she is driving Lou insane” Eris said to me as we shared a bottle of wine, enjoying the quietness of the night on his balcony. I smiled at the mention of Lady Autumn’s maid. “I think doing everything by herself helps her regain the power she had lost for centuries now” I replied, the mood turning sober. Eris didn’t respond, only sighing as he ran his hands through his hair. I bit down on my lip as I reached out my hand, gracing his arm with my fingers. “There’s nothing you could’ve done-“ “But there was” He exclaimed, the crack in his voice squeezing at my heart. “I could’ve killed him sooner. I should’ve killed him centuries ago. I killed so many innocent people over the course of my life. So many.” He whispered and I scooted closer to him, reaching my arm over his shoulders as much as I could. “Eris this isn’t your fault. This was not your responsibility. You had to make sure that the court was on your side before getting rid of him.” I said, squeezing at his shoulder. “It is not your fault”.

“You don’t even know half of the horrible things that I did.” “Then tell me.” “Are you sure? You’re not going to want to stay any longer.” He said, his eyes boring at me. I took his hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“Thank you for dinner Lady Autumn. It was amazing.” “Oh, I am glad that you like it. I switched up the ingredients. Thought it’ll be nice to switch things up” she said as she started to clear the table. Eris stood up too and took both our plates. Lou frowned at him. “High Lord let me-” “Don’t worry about it. If we clean up together, we’ll get done sooner.” He replied. I gathered the rest of the dishes, following him. “Don’t take it personally. They just want to switch things up.” I said to Lou as I passed her. “They wouldn’t survive without you.” I whispered to her, making her smile. “I know. It’s just weird and I feel guilty being paid but only doing half of the tasks I used to do a year ago.” “Don’t be. And if you’re bored, you’re more than welcome to stop by. Herbology is useful knowledge for everyone.” I winked and she beamed. “I would love that”

“Can I ask you something” “Hmm” I replied as I nuzzled into the blanked. The air was chilly; the sun should be rising soon.

“When you woke up in autumn, what was your first thought?”

I looked up to him, his eyes already fixated on me. I bit my lip and sighed: “I thought I was dead.” Eris eyes widened. “I thought Heaven smelled nice and that I was laying on a soft cloud.” “But then I heard your voice and everything that had happened hit me. I thought that my life was over.” I whispered and looked directly in his eyes: “But little did I know, It had just started.”

“What about this one?” Ilysa asked as she held up the sample to the wall. “Hmm, it is pretty, but I like the green one more, reminds me of the woods and seems calming. Perfect for the sleeping chambers.” I replied as she handed the sample to me. I put it down next to the other ones on the ground.

Eris becoming High Lord led to Lady Autumn changing up the things around her home; Including giving every maid their own chambers, forcing the money onto them to decorate their space however they desired. Ilysa had trouble to accept at first, not being used to these sudden changes but after a lot of reassurance from both Eris and Lady Autumn, she accepted. Ilysa had become my closest friend. We where the same age and had many things in common; the non-existent family including.

“Hmm yeah you’re right, I see Orange all the time and I don’t want to see it in here.” She mumbled as she scribbled something down. I giggled as I stood up from the ground, carefully walking over the samples. “I must go, Eris asked me to join him to the winter court.” I said and she just waved me off. “Have fun.” She replied in a singsong voice. I grinned as I left the chamber, closing the doors behind me.

“Have you met Kallias and Vivianne?” Eris asked as we came to a halt in front of the High Lords of the Winter Courts palace. “No, this is the first time I am going on Court business actually.” I replied, looping my arm through Eris’ in a hope to get some of his body heat. He has fire in his veins, surely, I should feel warmer.

“Well, I am glad that this will be your first. They’re both admirable and honourable people.” He replied, squeezing my hand, the heat making me shiver.

“I cannot wait to meet them”

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

𝑻𝒐 𝑫𝒊𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 - hyunjin x reader x felix au fanfic

CHAPTER 2

3 - It's not living if it's not with you

Your thumb skims a cross his smooth cheek, barely brushing the faded mole underneath his eye. Everything and nothing at all swirling in circles in your head as you absentmindedly touch his face, not a distinct, single thought behind your eyes, the look in them distant, vague.

Hyunjin sits patiently and stares at you, he lets you run your fingers over his bushy eyebrows and the plump outline of his lips, sighs ever so softly when the tip of your nail edges down his throat and loops around his thin silver necklace. He knows you love touching him like this, absentmindedly, aimlessly, a mute request for comfort, for something familiar and reassuring to feel beneath your pads so you can escape your head and ground yourself.

"What did you do today?", he asks after a little while, nudging the side of your knee with his own, you shrug, little to no recollection of the day's events for there are none. All of your days kind of blur into one, it's been like this for a while now. The same routine repeats itself over and over again in a in infinite, grey loop.

It's like Hyunjin died and all the colors in the spectrum of the rainbow died with him, skies turning slate gray, water turning to mud, trees shedding their green leaves no matter the season as if all life and color had been drained out all at once.

"Went to work. Got home. Showered. Ordered pizza. Doomscrolled. Went to bed", you list out your activities for the day, for any other day you weren't ending having sex with Felix.

Hyunjin plops his hands down in his lap with a smack, growing frustrated with your flat monotone and the way you seem completely unphased. "So you just waited out another day, no-wasted another day, just so you could go to bed and conjure me up like this? Aren't you tired, y/n? Aren't you tired of reliving groundhog day every single day?".

Shoulders coming down in a slump, you tut. You are tired. Energy depleted. Even if you have realistically been doing nothing at all. For the past 2 years it seems. Funny how living in a bubble of nothingness can feel so exhausting all the same." Yeah.. I am, I guess. But it's alright. Don't really want to pick a fight right now", you reply non commitedly, dropping your stare to the illusion of the white ground beneath your feet.

Hyunjin growls, a guttural sound rolling in his throat as he stands up and flails his arms out theatrically, "I WANT you to pick a fight with me! Fuck, if it means I'll get a reaction that's more than a shrug then fucking fight me! Cuss me out, I don't care! your life is fucking boring and you're just letting it be, what the hell happened to you? You are the shell of who you used to be! And the worst thing about it is that you seem completely fine with it. Deaf, empty. Flat. You're letting your life pass you by and you don't give a damn".

The white emptiness all around you echoes with the thunder in his voice. You've never seen Hyunjin this upset before, it startles you, the intensity in his gaze strinkingly disproportionate to the usual gentleness in his orbs. "What the fuck are you on about now? You died, Hyun. You fucking died. And yeah, you're right. I don't give a damn anymore, I haven't been for the past two years because what's the fucking point?", you snap, a surge of visceral annoyance bubbling up within you.

"The point is exactly that! Only one of us is dead but you're the one acting like you're not living", he shouts.

Nausea rises up to your throat, your stomach heaving. You stare at Hyunjin balling up his hands into fists, the fiery passion burning behind his eyes so strong he almost looks intimidating, "you are throwing your life away, y/n. I can't fucking stand it, I can't. It's like watching a flower wilting and wilting in a draught and not being able to give it a single drop of water, it's infuriating".

-"I lost everything, I don't have a family anymore, don't have a home anymore, I don't have you or any of our friends, I don't have a fucking heartbeat anymore and I can't watch a sunset and I can't sketch your face and I can't pet my dog, I can't do fucking anything but wait for you up here, watch you ghost your way through your days, watch you as you fuck my friend here and there and then curl yourself up in a ball in bed until you dream me up again in this weird fucking limbo and I can't, I fucking can't".

Angry, yet silent tears are rolling down Hyunjin's cheeks, he swats them away and nervously rake through his hair. You blink at him, wishing you could let your own tears flow, but none come out. None ever will. You had used them all up on the day you found out he had died.

Never in your whole life up until that point you had cried so much, so copiously, your eyes were so swollen and stingy and red you had to visit the ER and get some eye drops and absolute rest in your pitch black room, curtains drawn, blocking out the sun that never properly shone on you from that day on. Your body had not been able to produce any more tears from that day on, both physically and mentally, you had shut down completely. There was no prickling, no pressure urging behind your eyelids, no emotional turmoil big enough to trigger any voluntary or involuntary instinct to cry.

"I am not living, Hyunjin. I am merely surviving, I'm only just investing enough energy so I can get myself through another day. I'm sorry you cannot live vicariously through me cause my existence turned a little too dull for you", you confess plainly, as if you had not just admitted to the most miserable truth residing in your heart.

You only cared about being awake enough to reach the end of the day, just so you could see him again, hear his voice, touch his face, feel some semblance of belonging, pretending your relationship never had to be cut off so abruptly, the love of your life plucked away from the world so carelessly, like a flower ripped from the grass it was flourishing in.

You and him were in no way perfect, neither was your relationship. Loving him was red, and purple and blue. Fiery, intense, but delicate and sweet. You fought, not a lot but you fought. And some of the fights were turbulent, they lead them to you refusing to speak to each other for a few days at a time, the vicious silent treatment generating all the more incomprehension in turn, which usually then lead to more arguing but to some very intense make up sex too.

And deep talks. Endless deep talks. All of your inner colors and shades, all the good the bad and the ugly coming out in hushed tones underneath the moonlight, steaming cups of tea burning the reddened skin on the palm of your hands. McDonald's runs at three in the morning. I love yous shouted out of anger and frustration, giggles, his way of peeling apart your layers, making you feel seen with every turn of a leaf.

Hyunjin chokes, a sob like pained whine in his throat, he cups your cheeks, squeezing a little too tight, but you don't protest. He shuts his eyes and keeps them close for a sec, he kisses your lips, his mouth lingering on yours as he dares not raise his voice above a whisper, his breath coming out short: "I love you, fuck I love you, y/n. I don't want you to live so I can live through you, I don't want you to die for me, every single day, either, like you've been doing so far", "do you want me to live for you?".

The question tumbles out of your mouth like it's second nature, like saying please and thank you and hello. If you could bury a body for him, slice off your arm and feed to him, if it meant bringing him back to the real world, you could live for him too. If he just asked.

"I want you to live. For yourself. For love, for happiness. I want you to live because the world has not ended just because my life did...", he trails off, soft whispers hitting your skin as his lips trace your cupid bow, "I need you to live, y/n. And I need you to start living again soon, I need you to live again and laugh again and love again, I need you... I need you to feel alive because I need to die. I really, really need to die".

A wall of bricks crumbles down on your head, splitting in chunks upon impact. Or at least that's what it feels like. You look at him incredulously, any primitive form of words dying in your throat as you stare at him.

He sighs, heavily, like it's hurting him to do so: "I don't know how any of this works. No clue. But I know I'm not meant to stay here, in this limbo of sorts. Not for this long. These past two years might have felt like a blink to you, but to me the dragged out infinitely. I am losing my... human-ness, if that's a thing. I can't feel you anymore, not as much as I used to when we first started meeting up here". Hyunjin brushes away the hair on the crown of your head, nimble long finger through your strands, eyes squinting as he makes a pained face.

"My lips don't feel the same, they cannot perceive how soft your skin is, my hearing is getting weaker, my eyes don't work as well as they used to before. My limbs... The feel so heavy, y/n. I drag my entire body weight on these legs, and it's so hard. I am becoming numb, and weak. I am slowly disappearing, my love. And I don't know why or how, but if I don't pass over properly, if I don't get to finally rest, I never will."-

-"My soul will pulverize along with this body. I need to leave, to reach my final stage, whatever that may be. I might just forever rest or reincarnate, anything. I'm not meant to stay here forever. I have to leave. But I can't do that, I can't leave you until I know you're okay. My life will have been worthless if I don't get to see you appropriating you life again, do you understand? I will have lived and died for nothing, if you don't move on".

Oxygen stuck in your airways, you gasp, the torpidity in your body and your mind slithering away like suds in the drizzle of water, panic seizing your senses, "you're leaving?", you murmur, and he grimaces, nodding slowly, "I don't think I have more than a year left. It's hard to explain, to give it a time line, a deadline too... It's like a silent ticking time bomb within me, and it's eating me from the inside, making my form feel less and less... Human. I know it's going to go off sometime soon, I can hold it back only for so long", he tries to explain, elaborating his thoughts with so much strain in his voice he sounds like he's scraping the base of his heart to claw at some courage.

Trying to desperately make sense feels like a regurgitation of what it first felt like to see him appear in this weird space I your head, a space between dream and reality, sleep and wakefulness. It felt odd, insane, unexplicable at first.

But then it turned into comfort, into the safest place you knew, the one you had been running to every night. But now it's just dread. Hopelessness. The line between staying sane and becoming actually ill in the head blurring all at once as you find yourself grappling with reality. Your safe space turning into a castle of glass that could break at any moment in time.

Fear swallows you up. Your heart failing to beat properly as the faintest falter in the rhythm sends daggers piercing through your chest. Hyunjin cannot leave this place too. "How-how long have you known?", "I've always known".

An eerie quietness sinks in the atmosphere. Your heart plummeting in your chest, tumbling down your stomach with a thud. The blank stare in his eyes when you had confessed you were sleeping with Felix,the surrender in his voice when he had tried to calm down the rage that erupted from you then, when it felt like he had so passively accepted he wasn't going to be able to hold you back from diving head first into the worst of coping mechanisms, the alcohol first, the meaningless sex next.

"Is this - is this... Is this why you fucking SHRUGGED when I told you I had accidently drowned my liver in alcohol and ended up in bed with Felix? Had you already given up on me then? On us? You already knew didn't you?", you chide incongruently calmly, teeth gritting, hurt and anger at being left in the darkness blindsiding you once again.

"You were clearly in so much pain, y/n. You were mourning, I don't get to judge how people mourn, how they cope with pain, much less you. What was I supposed to do? Yell at you? Scream my head off accusing you of not caring about me or not loving me enough in death as much as you did in life? How could have that ever helped the situation? You were going to do something drastic if I had let you know at the time, and trust me, TRUST ME it hurt. It ripped my heart to shreds, it burned my entire soul to know you were fucking my best friend".-

-"But I was dead then and I am dead now. I cannot do shit about it. I cannot stop you from doing anything. I was just hoping it was going to be temporary! that-that... that you were going to eventually stop. Or fall for him. And be happy without me. But none of that happened and now I'm disappearing and I don't know what to do anymore".

The metallic taste of blood pooling in your mouth floods your taste buds as you bite down hard on the inside of your lips, rubbing them together int a thin line, Hyunjin breathes raggedly, he puts his face in his hands, crying into the sleeves of his shirt, "I just want you to be happy y/n, selfishly, I need you to be happy, cause my heart is fucking heavy for you and I cannot take it through with me. I need you to let me go, even if it means I had to spend two years letting you go first, even if it means I have to push you away right now, I need you to let me go".

Chapter 4

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr Bell x student!reader - distraction for the day

So the reader got adhd and at the moment you lost someone in your family and you told no one so mr bell was shocked to see you his office in lesson then he ask you why you was in his office and you started crying saying everyone hates you because you pushed them all away of the friends you had as you can’t keep friends then you said someone died in your family then he said he had a pe lesson to teacher and Said you can come to help so you did and it help you calm down hope that make sense - Anon💜

TW: mentions of family loss

You hadn’t been to a lesson all morning, you couldn’t bring yourself to go into any of them, so for the first lesson you hid in the toilets, for the second on you found an empty classroom to sit in.

You stayed in there break, but as break was coming to an end you knew you had to leave to room, so you began to walk aimlessly around.

You didn’t really have a direction in mind, you couldn’t gather your thoughts enough to decide what it was you wanted to do.

You wanted to just cry, and you felt like at any moment you would just burst out into tears.

You didn’t know who to talk to, so you went to the teacher who you went to for all your problems knowing they he would sit down with you and listen to you.

You walked to the office door and knocked, sniffling a little bit as you waited, but there was no responses so you turned around to leave.

“(Y/N)?” Mr Bell asked.

You nodded a little.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in lesson? I’ve got to head back to mine now.”

Mr Bell stopped what he was doing to look at you, and he sighed softly, opening the office door.

“Come on, let’s have a chat yeah?”

You nodded again and stepped into the office with him.

“Is everything alright?”

That’s when you broke, tears streaming down your face.

You spilled everything out to him, the recent loss of your family member, and how you had been pushing all your friends away.

Sniffing a little, you looked at him.

“They all hate me now…”

“No, I’m sure they don’t hate you, okay? They just know you need some space is all.” Mr Bell said gently.

He walked over, getting you to sit down in a chair.

“Take a minute alright? Just breathe.”

You nodded, trying to calm yourself.

After a few minutes with him helping you focus on your breathing, helping you calm down, you wiped your eyes with the backs of your hands and looked at him.

“You’ve not been to lesson all day have you?”

“No sir…”

He nodded his head.

“I’ll tell Mrs Carter and your other teachers you’re here, but I could do with some help for me lesson.”

He smiled a little and you looked at him.

“Want to help me?” He asked.

“Yeah…”

“Come on then.”

He led you out of the office, getting you to grab a couple of footballs while he carried the bag and he took you outside.

He kept you on the sidelines, and your job was to kick the ball back into the field.

You got bored, and you sat down, getting lost in your own head again.

Mr Bell immediately noticed and he came over, sitting next to you.

You didn’t notice at first, but when you felt a ball roll into your leg you looked at it then looked at him to see he wasn’t look.

Placing your hand on the ball you rolled it back, hitting him with it and looked away.

Mr Bell smiled a little and pushed it back, and you caught it to roll it back.

Mr Bell chuckled a little, turning around to face you and you did the same, now playing a game of catch with the ball.

“Is this better for you?” He asked.

“Yeah..”

“Good, do you want to do this for the rest of the day? We can catch up on the work you missed another day.”

“Am I allowed to do that…?”

“Yeah, of course you are. You’re more important, okay? And making sure you’re okay is the most important thing.”

You nodded a little.

That’s what you did for the rest of the day, you helped Mr Bell with his PE lessons, playing football or a game of catch with him.

It made the day easier and you didn’t have to focus on anything but that, you weren’t having to worry about grades or work or friends or family or anything today.

Just this.

And that made everything a lot easier.

Mr Bell was the only teacher who was willing to help you with this, all the other teachers had been pretty much ignoring it all for the past week.

So knowing you had one person to help you was better than trying to get through it all alone

[tinyinvadr]

Here’s part two to Road to Recovery, this time from Maple’s POV!

Road to Recovery

Maple

I sat in the chair that Rox had been sitting in only a minute before. I wasn’t sure where to even begin, so I waited for Truman to initiate the conversation as I aimlessly fidgeted with the ribbon on my shirt.

“Rox already told me a bit about where you both came from. You were a part of a borrower colony, living in a retirement home, with non-psychic parents. Is all of this correct?”

I simply nodded, not sure if I could manage to get any words out.

“Can you tell me about when your powers started to develop? Was it around the same time as Rox, or was it before or after them?”

I took a minute, taking a few deep breaths, and then, I responded.

“A little bit after them. Honestly, I think seeing them use their powers might’ve triggered mine.”

He nodded. “And I hear you’re quite skilled in zoolepathy.”

I gave him a confused look, and he chuckled.

“I mean your ability to talk to animals.”

“Oh! Yeah. There were a bunch of animals living outside the building. Bunnies, squirrels, all sorts. A chipmunk actually gave me this acorn cap as a present.”

“I take it you were friendly with these animals. Did you talk to them often?”

I sighed. “Not really. Only when I was sure no one was around to see me. I didn’t want everyone to freak out about another psychic in the colony, so I kept quiet about it. No one knew except Rox, Ash, and his dad. Not even my parents knew. Oh… they’re gonna be so mad when we get back home…”

He paused, taking it all in.

“Let’s move away from that subject for now. I’d like you to tell me about your time at Whispering Rock. From my understanding, your reason for going there was to look after your younger sibling. Would you say that’s correct?”

I thought it over. He wasn’t wrong. That WAS my reason for going at first. If Rox hadn’t been so stubborn, I never would’ve left the colony. I’d have just stayed back at home, going about my days like I always did. It was the same old thing, every single day, but at least it was safe. It didn’t matter how bored I was, I needed that stability. Without it, I had no idea what was going to happen, and that terrified me.

That was why I kept trying to make things go back to the way they were when we were younger. Everything was so easy. Everyone got along, and we didn’t have to walk on eggshells around Mom and Dad.

I used to believe that if we just gave in to what our parents wanted from us, we could all be happy again. But on some level, I always knew that there was no going back. Forcing Rox to give up a huge part of themself wasn’t the answer, but when everyone around me kept telling me it was, I had a hard time arguing with it.

When they told me they were planning on running away to a psychic summer camp, there was a small part of myself that wanted to run off with them, no hesitation. The way they described it sounded so freeing. I could finally escape from all the stress that had been weighing down on me, having to watch my little sibling get treated like a criminal.

But that fear of the unknown held me back. If we left, we’d be alone and defenseless against all the threats of nature. Even if we were lucky enough to make it to camp in one piece, that meant we’d be surrounded by humans. And not just any humans. Humans with psychic powers that they could use to track us and hunt us down. We’d be dead within minutes.

I tried every argument I could think of to convince them not to go, but it was hopeless. They couldn’t be swayed, so I had no choice but to go with them. I couldn’t let Rox go without me. Of course, I trusted that Ash could protect them, but it still felt wrong. It would feel like I was failing them as a big sister. Or, more than I already was.

We hitched a ride with a visiting grandkid who was headed to camp. One long bus ride later, we found ourselves at Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp.

The three of us set up what I hoped would be a temporary home in the main lodge, and we lived off of scraps for the first few days. I didn’t see Rox or Ash much, since they spent most of the day exploring the grounds while I stayed put and hoped they would get bored with the place.

Soon, the counselors returned, and they had a borrower with them. His name was Flint, and he was around Ash’s age. He’d recently climbed the ranks and became a Junior Psychonaut. I didn’t believe it for a second. Either this was some sort of sick trick, or he was being horribly exploited.

He introduced himself as the new junior counselor, and explained that he was offered the position for the specific purpose of training the borrower kids who had been spotted at camp. Everything about this made me sick.

I followed the campers to Basic Braining the next morning, as Rox never came back from exploring and I figured I’d find them there. Instead, I ran right into Coach Oleander.

“Looks like you finally made it to the battlefield, soldier! Let’s get you to the training course!”

He reached out for me, and I panicked and ran. I hid in the trenches, though I never let him leave my field of vision. If I knew where he was at all times, he couldn’t sneak up and surprise me.

Suddenly, what I thought was a human ran past with Rox perched on his shoulder. When he stopped to talk to Coach, I realized that he was Flint, and he’d somehow grown to human size in the mental world. Before I knew it, Rox teleported away from them and appeared next to me.

“C’mon, Maple! You’re never gonna learn anything if you hide for the entire class!”

“For the millionth time, I’m only here to make sure you don’t get killed by those monsters!”

“They’re not monsters! Flint is living proof of that!”

“How am I supposed to trust him when he makes himself look like them?”

“Oh please. That’s nothing. I’ve already shifted WAY bigger than him.”

“Rox!”

They sighed, sitting down beside me.

“Will you at least try? Please? I really think you’ll like it.”

That part of me that wanted to say yes reared its head again, and for a moment, I was tempted to take a risk and go with them. But just as fast as that thought came to me, it was pushed away by the memory of the Coach reaching out to grab me only minutes before.

“No…”

Rox kept trying. They came back with Flint, who had changed back into his borrower form. Still, I wouldn’t budge.

It wasn’t until Coach shrank himself down that I finally agreed to give training a chance. He was far less intimidating at borrower size. In fact, I hadn’t realized how short he was until I saw him standing next to me.

That first training session went surprisingly well. I could tell Coach was struggling to keep a calm demeanor, since it was obvious he was used to being very aggressive and high-energy, but I appreciated that he put in the effort for me.

Rox was more than happy to go along with his traditional teaching methods, though. They loved getting to PSI-Punch at stuff, and admittedly, it felt good to see them so happy. They never had this much fun back at home.

Within a very short time, I went from hating camp and being terrified of humans to absolutely loving it. Coach, Flint, Agent Vodello, they were all so nice and helped me to adjust. I wanted to just stay there forever.

Then Dr. Dreher used Ash’s powers to freeze the campgrounds.

I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I knew it was bad. There was snow everywhere, and it didn’t take long for me to collapse from exhaustion as I tried to navigate it. I thought for sure I was a goner, but Coach found me just in time. Well, one of his bunny friends found me and brought me to him.

While I had gotten better with being around humans in the mental world, this was my first time encountering Coach in the physical world. And this was my first time interacting with him at his full size since my first visit to Basic Braining.

I could tell it hurt him to see that I was a little afraid, but he didn’t dwell on that, and focused on getting me back to the main lodge. As he carried me back, I managed to speak up.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“Huh? Kid, what are you apologizing for?”

“I’m sorry I’m afraid…”

“It’s a survival instinct, Maple. I’m not offended by it. I know it’s gonna take a while for you to get used to being around humans. Now, rest. I don’t want you using up all your energy out here.”

We made it back to the lodge, and Coach got me a hand towel from the supply closet to use as a blanket. He offered to put me down, but I let him keep holding me. It helped me warm up quicker, and it felt nice to know I was truly safe in that moment.

I was able to rest for a while, but then, Coach suddenly put me down.

“Stay here, Maple. Milla needs me.”

“Wait, what’s happening? Is she in trouble?”

“No, but Sasha and Flint are.”

I stood up, pushing off the towel.

“Let me help.”

Before he could respond, Rox appeared beside me.

“Yeah, me too!”

Coach tried to argue with us, but we didn’t take “no” for an answer. Flint was our friend, and he needed help. And I wasn’t about to fall back into sitting around and letting the people I care about get hurt.

I told Truman everything up until that point, since he already knew about what happened with Dreher. He processed everything I’d told him, then spoke up.

“After everything you’ve been through, how do you feel about your decision to go with Rox and Ash?”

I sighed. “It’s complicated. I was scared, but then I felt amazing. But now that I know the only reason we went there at all is because we were tricked… and now I feel sort of guilty for liking camp as much as I did. Ash and Rox both went through one awful thing after another, meanwhile I was just a kid having fun. It’s not fair.”

He nodded. “I agree. It isn’t fair. All of you should have been able to enjoy your time at camp to the fullest. But that also shouldn’t take away from the positive experiences you had there. To me, it sounds like you underwent a lot of personal growth in a short time, and that’s something to be proud of.”

“I guess so… but I can’t help but feel like they hate me now for getting off easy.”

“I don’t see any reason why they would. I’m sure they’re relieved that Dreher never got to you. And I wouldn’t exactly classify what you underwent as ‘easy’. You conquered your lifelong fears and nearly froze to death.”

Truman was right. It was perfectly okay that I loved going to Whispering Rock as much as I did. The circumstances that brought us there were horrible, and I could completely understand if they wanted to go back home, but at least I knew that I’d be leaving the past few days behind a better person than I was. The three of us needed each other more than ever, and it felt good to know that I could support them.

Seeing the progress I’d made, Truman and I ended the session, and Coach came in to swap me out with Ash.

When we returned to the hallway, I sat myself down beside Rox.

“Hey, so… if you wanna go back home after all this, I get it. Whatever you wanna do, I’m with you 100%.”

At that, Rox looked at me like I was crazy.

“What makes you think I wanna go back there?”

“Oh, um… I just thought with everything that happened…”

They placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Maple, it’s not about where we are. It’s about who we’re with. I wanna stay with you above all else, and if YOU really wanna go home, I’ll go back with you and I won’t fight you on it, but don’t you think we’re with a way better group here?”

I smiled. “Yeah, we are. I think we’re home, Rox.”

[cursedomain]

the night's veil

The night dust settled quickly into the air. Looking around the area was pretty empty, the stone ground was cold I could tell by the temperature of the air around me as well. Everything was cold. It’s been cold since I left him. The days feel longer, I wait for a conversation, just something. I don’t feel warm anymore like I used to.  It’s the worst at night, alone in my room I look around.

My cat usually will meow here and there, I feel her presence lightly, still I am alone. I can not change this. We haven’t talk in days yet I still feel we will again soon. Slowly through time I realize I won’t feel the warmth I felt with him. I shiver at night from the cold temperature. Two blankets doesn’t even solve my problems.

“It was no one else’s choice but mine.” I repeat to myself, the daunting truth hurts the most at night. What can I do to change this? Crying hasn’t brough anything back nor has it changed my situation. My friends are also very much so not here. They said they would, I knew they wouldn’t be. It’s the truth, you can give your all but it doesn’t guarantee you will get it back. I have to sit and understand this.

Looking around, I realized I’m still aimlessly walking, being I left my room 30 minutes ago, I lost track of time and track my thoughts. My headphones played a bittersweet song, just on replay. Tears continued to go as I walked but I paid no attention to them. They will just be more bothersome if I paid mind to them. I kept going, hoping someone would save my thoughts.

Thinking of his black hair which was long and soft, or the smile he gave when he saw me even if I was mad or he was mad. Things can change,  just as always. Sadly, change is not something that is easy to accept. I thought I was bored, but truth was I just not in a usual chaos which I usually found comfort, I realize after my actions of course, it was finally something healthy. You realize things later on in life mostly, sometimes maybe in the moment, this was something I realized a bit after the choices I’ve made.

I wish he would hug me and tell me it’s ok, but I know it won’t be okay. Our story has ended and the next chapter is waiting to start. The stalling can only go on for so long before I soon just lose my chance and have to accept the changes for my new life. Things are as they are, you can only choose how you’ll react, never how it goes on both sides, that’s a forbidden fruit we each try for.

I found myself at my dorm again. College will be over before I know it, and my heart won’t yearn for him before I know it as well. Time will tell when everything will be okay. When you find someone new you will not wish for change, hopefully just hopefully, it won’t always be this painful. Laying down in my dark room, I closed my eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of a happier time with him, because I just can’t let go tonight.

[fridayyy-13th]

for the honesty hour, what got u into tma?

okay okay SO. sort of a long story, buckle up. this tale actually technically starts a couple years before i even listened to the podcast; it's not really a necessary part of the story but i think it gives some neat extra context.

so back in 2018, i was getting into horror for the first time, particularly psychological horror (i still can't really deal with slashers or gore or anything, so psychological horror is my spooks of choice lol). and in the art class i was taking, one of my desk neighbors would give me recommendations. they had recommended Doki Doki Literature Club to me, and i'd loved it! so when they recommended me a podcast called The Magnus Archives, i went home and checked it out...by poking around on the wiki for a little bit to suss out the kinds of spooks it entailed. poking it with a long stick to see if it would bite me, as it were. i read through the wiki synopsis for a random episode (which was MAG 034 - Anatomy Class), decided it was too scary for me, didn't listen to it, and subsequently completely forgot about the entire thing.

jump forward to 2021, i once again had a vague awareness of Magnus due to following some artists for fandoms like Hermitcraft and YTTD who also made art for TMA. at this point it was kinda just in my periphery? i hadn't really given listening a second thought yet.

...and then in December i got covid for the first time, totally smacking down all plans of going out to do stuff or visiting friends.

so like, i had absolutely nothing to do for the holidays. i mean, i'd started playing Deltarune chapter 2, so i had that going for me, but that was it. i was bored outta my mind. and then one evening, i was scrolling aimlessly through tumblr at like 12 in the morning when a piece of jmart fanart caught my eye. i wound up searching the TMA tag, and after watching @/faerie--kei's fantastic Home PMV, i was Deeply Intrigued and Very Curious. the next morning i decided to start listening, and the subsequent two weeks absolutely rewired my brain.

and yknow how i mentioned that back in 2018 i had been told about this podcast, but didn't pick it up til three years later? the entire first thirty-three episodes felt strangely familiar, and then i listened to MAG 034 and went "OH HEY WAIT I READ ABOUT THIS ONCE DIDN'T I." and then it became my favorite episode!! so it came full-circle; the episode that initially scared me off became one of the ones i love the most.

i actually think i finished MAG 200 on the evening of Christmas Day? so that was a nice little gift to end my holiday, lol. i remember sitting on my bed after 199 like "wow. this is it. and i know how it ends." (due to aforementioned PMV.) "but maybe it won't actually end that way??? One Can Only Hope :)" and then i listened to 200 and yeah. ouch. i have been insane about this podcast ever since.

so uh the short answer is "the throes of boredom caused by sickness." i'm actually re-listening to it currently, much more slowly, since it's been a couple years. it's just as good as the first time, maybe even moreso because now i don't just have a vague idea of where everything goes, i know exactly when and how things go downhill. fun times :D

[spaceshipellie]

easy mode (smut)

ellie williams x reader

minors do not interact!! 18+ content

brief summary: smut with plot. reader is terrible at video games but gf ellie offers a ‘reward’ if you complete it.

cw: ellie being a tease, fingering and eating out (r receiving)

note: this is the first smut i’ve ever posted so please be nice lol

faintly beneath the sound of music coming from the speaker that sat beside you whilst you painted, you could hear ellie’s curses and game rage from the next room. 

she was probably playing that apocalypse game again. you really wanted to try but knew you were shit at any video games involving shooting and aiming. 

however, you couldn’t distract yourself from her voice, and after staring at the same corner of your artwork, you decided to give up and pack the stuff away. you were in a restless mood for some reason. you either needed to move and go for a walk or get some attention from your girlfriend. if you were being entirely honest, right now you’d rather have the latter. 

after packing away the paints, you crept quietly to the door of ellie’s game room. hearing you come in, she quickly took a glance at you before averting her eyes back to her screen.

“hey babe,” she said. you were right. she was playing that game. 

“hey.” you took a seat on the sofa next to her set up, scrolling aimlessly on your phone. engrossed in the game, she continued playing, under the breath curses filling the room. 

after a few minutes you hear the creek of her chair as she turned to face you, game paused. 

“you okay?” she rolled her chair forward slightly so she could poke your leg with her foot. 

“yeah.” you adjusted how you were sat to sit forwards, pulling her closer by her knees, leaning on them and looking up at her. she smiled down at you and brushed a piece of hair behind your ear.

“what’s up, baby?”

“nothing, i just got bored of what i was doing and wanted to see you.”

she leant down and kissed you. she had that little smirk on her face before pulling your arms up to wrap around her neck, subsequently pulling you up from the sofa all together so she could hook her hand around the back of your thigh and pull you onto straddling her lap. the way she sits back in her game chair and looks slightly up at you like this was ridiculously hot.

her hands find their place on your hips and she leans into you to kiss you again. slightly more heated than the one before. 

“you wanna play with me?” she says after you both pull away, fingers toying with the hem of your jumper, slipping under it. 

“you know i’m crap at games like that.” you laugh.

“i’ll help you.” 

“you’ll get frustrated at me.”

“no i won’t,” she pretended to be offended. “come on, babe, it’ll be fun.” she pulls you tighter to her, arms fully wrapping around your waist.

“okay.” you kiss her. hands on her cheeks. “okay fine, but i’m warning you, i’ll be stuck on the same part forever.”

she laughs and playfully pats your ass as you get off her to sit in the chair next to her. the arms of your chairs bump into each other as she picks up the controller and leans into you. 

“okay so this is to move, crouch, run, look around, aim, and shoot,” she says, pointing and toggling with the various buttons. she looks at you and smiles at your slight wide eyed expression. 

“you got it?”

“uh, yeah,” you take the controller from her. “so move, crouch…”

“that’s run.”

“okay, run, crouch?”

“yep.”

“look arou- no, shit that’s move.. look around, aim, and shoot,” you beam looking up at her, excited that you got it right, and she’s already looking at you. 

“well done, babe. now you have to play,” she says putting a hand on your knee that’s touching hers. 

“okay okay okay,” you repeat, sucking in a breath.

“you don’t have to be nervous.”

“i know! i just get stressed, everything happens so fast, i can’t coordinate my hands.”

she laughs at your rambling and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“right, ready?”

“yes-no! wait,” you say abruptly before she can hit ‘play.’

“what?”

“can you put it on easy mode?”

she smirks at you.

“to start with at least?” you give her a pleading look.

“sure. right, ready now?”

“yeah.”

she hits play and immediately you start making the character run around aimlessly, not really sure what to do.

“do i want to be looking for stuff right now? or is someone going to come out and shoot me?”

“you wanna explore this bit and find supplies and ammo and stuff,” she explains.

“will someone come out and attack me?”

“maybe.” 

“fuck.”

“it’s okay,” she laughs again.

you played for a moment just running around exploring the abandoned buildings. 

“you missed some stuff in there,” ellie pointed.

“oh, how do you know?”

“when you get kinda close to stuff it shimmers a bit meaning you can interact with it, see?” she says as you get closer to the items.

“oh yeah, i see, thanks.”

“now you should be able to craft some stuff if you press this button.”

“okay, what should i do?”

“bombs are helpful and arrows.”

“how do i know when i need to craft stuff?”

“you see up here,” ellie points on the screen, “it says how many items you need of what to make something, so after you’ve picked up a few things or if you’re about to be fighting some guys then check if you can make anything.”

“okay, thanks,” you smile, feeling like you’re getting the hang of it and make the character walk through a crack in the fence.

“this is fun–oh fuck fuck no,” you blurted out seeing that this new area was covered in people. 

you hear ellie laughing next to you. “okay you’re going to have to probably stealth and kill a few guys through here.”

“what do i do?”

“first go behind that car or something and crouch… yep, good, now figure out how you want to go about it.”

you looked at her a bit dumbfounded and panicky. she looked at you, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“i have no idea how to go about it, help.”

“you’re so cute.”

you shoot her a sarcastic smile. “ellie… help.”

“okay, if it were me i would stealth around as much as possible and try and take out a few of them like that. sometimes you can do the whole thing like that but no offence, baby,” she looks at you, “i don’t think you will be able to do that. but it’ll take out a few of them first before you get spotted and they start firing.”

“oh my god, okay. what about the bombs i just made?”

“yeah you can lay some around and hopefully they’ll walk into them.”

“okay.”

“you got this,” she said, hearing the nerves in your voice. she’s enjoying this too much.

you started to sneak up behind one guy.

“okay okay okay, don’t fucking move,” you muttered. you pressed the button to stealth kill and succeeded without being caught.

“ahh i did it!”

“good job babe.” you blushed at ellie’s praise. she was leaning back in her chair but moved a hand to rub your waist briefly.

you managed to kill another guy in stealth mode but at the last second got caught and the other guys started firing. 

“fuck me, fuck no, no, shit, shit,” you yelled, desperately trying to run behind a wall. 

“am i saf– no! oh god no,” you said as shots came at you from another angle and you got hit a few times, your health flashing red. 

ellie leaned forward in her seat. “you need to run away, babe.” 

“i’m trying.”

you ran but in your panic you kept bumping into things and getting hit with shots.

“there’s too many of them, i’m-oh my god, fuck this shit.”

“hide behind something to heal yourself.”

“i can’t, they’re everywhere, stop, oh my god,” you slammed pause in a panic, “ellie i can’t.”

she laughed at your struggling. “you can, i mean you’re probably going to die here but it’ll start at the beginning of the fight.”

“so those two guys i killed i’ll have to do again?”

“yes.”

“that’s so unfair,” you pouted.

“that’s the way it goes,” she was still smiling devilishly at you.

you laughed, putting the controller down and leant your hands on her knees. “i don’t know why i get so scared, like it’s actually happening to me.”

she leant forward and kissed you. “it’s fine, just try not to get caught so quickly.”

“oh thanks, that’s so helpful,” you said sarcastically. 

“i know, i am.”

“okay, right, i’m going again.” you said, getting situated back in your seat. “i’m going to just let myself die and try again because i’m fucked.”

you tried again and got further than you did last time before dying again.

pausing, you turned to look at ellie, who once again had leaned back in her chair, watching you. her eyes just shifted from the screen to your face, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

“you’re doing good, i swear.”

“i think i’m getting the hang of it,” you said looking back at the screen. 

“well, you are on easy mode,” she teased. you snapped your head around so fast.

“fuck you,” you laughed, playfully pushing her arm. “i’ve never played this before.”

“you’ve watched me play a hundred times.”

“yes but that’s not the same,” you said, leaning back in your own chair, level with her.

“you’re saying you never learnt anything from that?” she said in mock horror. 

“probably paying too much attention to you,” you smirked to yourself.

“oh yeah?”

“you’re sexy when you play video games,” you looked at her, trying to stop your smile from widening so much as you leant forward again, ready to press play. 

her tongue poked the inside of her cheek, eyes looking over you. suddenly, you yelped as you felt her grab you and pull you back, slightly twisted due to the chair arms but the top of your back pressed into her chest and she buried her face into your neck, attacking it with kisses, arms wrapped around you. 

“you’re sexy when you game too,” she mumbled, smiling at the sound of your laughter. 

“sorry i thought playing on easy mode wasn’t good enough for you,” you teased. 

she groaned into your neck before bringing her lips up to your ear. “if you get through this fight scene, i’ll reward you.”

your stomach flipped. “reward me how?”

ellie kissed behind your ear and slid one of her hands down to your inner thigh. “however you want, babe.”

“right, this is serious now, don’t distract me.” you ordered, reluctantly pulling yourself out of her grip but oh god did you want that reward.

she laughed at your change in demeanour, enjoying how wrapped around her little finger you are.

you were extra frustrated now when you died again.

“fuck,” you muttered under your breath. 

“you can do it, baby. go on,” you could hear the smirk in ellie’s voice without even looking at her.

“shut up.”

you were trying so hard not to die. you didn’t even care if you were severely injured by the time this section was cleared, you just had to clear it. ellie was mostly silent through this, obeying your “don’t distract me” statement. eventually, the music shifted and the character on screen said “i think that’s it” and your stomach flipped again.

“i did it,” you said to yourself before whipping around in your chair to look at ellie. “baby, i fucking did it.”

she was already looking at you, her smile playful and wicked. she leaned forward, keeping her face close to yours. “you fucking did it.”

“can i have my reward now?” you asked, not realising that your voice was going to quiver like it did.

“you can. what reward would you like?” 

she’s such a shit. she knows exactly what you want but she’s going to make you ask for it.

“i think you know.” 

“i think i do,” she said, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “but i��d like to hear you say it.”

“i fucking hate you.”

“i love you too.”

“ellie.”

“yes, baby.”

“i want you to touch me.”

you could cut the tension with a knife. her tempting lips were just inches from yours, but you knew she was in a teasing mood, which you didn’t mind. 

“how do you want me to touch you?” her voice was more hushed and lower than before. you couldn’t help but shift in your seat.

you gently took her hand in yours and played with her fingers, lifting them and kissing them. you looked straight into her eyes. “with your fingers, please.” 

you could tell how the ‘please’ made ellie feel immediately. two could play at this game. although, she’ll probably still win.

you kissed the pad of her thumb, knowing she would push it gently between your lips. her hand found its place on your jaw. she ran her thumb over your bottom lip, eyes looking between your lips and your eyes. 

“anything else?” she asked. 

“maybe your mouth, too.” you said sweetly. her eyes darkened at your deliberate innocent tone and she took a moment before slowly closing the small space between you. her lips met yours in a soft, plush kiss, hand still holding your jaw.

“like that?”

“yes please.”

she laughed darkly for a second and kissed you again, hungrier than before, her hand sliding from your jaw to the back of your head. 

“come here,” she mumbled into the kiss. you moved out of your seat, and climbed onto her lap. her other hand eagerly pulled you as close as you could be to her. your hands found themselves running between her shoulders and her hair. 

you moaned into the kiss. she let out a “fuck,” as she stood up, carrying you with her, your legs wrapping around her waist. she hastily moved towards the sofa you were sat on earlier and laid you down, never breaking the kiss. her body weight on top of you, lying in between your legs was delicious, no matter how many times it happened. 

one arm supported her weight, the other glided up under your top, fingers teasing the curve of your boob. she started to kiss down your neck whilst also shoving your top further up, until she was kissing your bare stomach up towards your chest. 

“lift up,” she whispered, yanking your top off. her hand immediately went to your boob as she started kissing and playing with the other. 

“you did so well, baby.”

your back arched into her. 

“my good fucking girl.”

your hand went to her face. “ellie.” 

“what is it?” she looked up at you.

“i need you.”

“you have me, don’t worry.”

she kissed you again before shuffling down, hands never not touching you somewhere. lips grazing your skin. she hooked her fingers into your sweats, kissing your skin at the hem. you squirmed beneath her and she looked up at you.

“you worked up, baby?”

“yes,” you stuttered out.

“good.” she simply said before continuing leaving wet kisses on your exposed skin, slowly pulling your sweats down. she peeled them off your ankles and tossed them across the room.

she knelt on the floor and wrapped her hands around your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the sofa. she held your legs open, leaving kisses on your inner thigh.

“so pretty.”

ellie took her time touching and kissing everywhere but there. your hand went down to run through her hair lightly, getting impatient. 

it made your body jolt when she licked a line up your cunt. her fingers rubbed gentle circles on your thighs whilst she worked her tongue on your clit. 

your hand tightened its grip in her hair and you moaned, your body writhing. her hands tightened trying to keep you in place and keep your legs open for her.

she sucked on your clit, leaving it sensitive and admired her work before glancing up at you, smirking at the sight of your hands now pinching your nipples. one of her fingers delicately ran a length up your cunt, circling your clit slowly. your body jolted again at the new form of touch. her finger played around at your entrance.

“you did such a good job at the game,” ellie said sweetly, “although i also enjoy watching you struggle.” she laughs to herself. her finger traced up to your clit again. the mix of her praise and teasing was torture. she was enjoying just sitting there, having your legs spread so she could play with your pussy. 

“i like you helping me.” 

“you do?” she added slightly more pressure. 

“yes.”

“i like teaching you.”

she pushed two fingers in, the abruptness making you whimper. her eyes were glued to your face for a moment whilst she moved her fingers in and out, deep and slow.

“oh fuck,” you moaned. 

“that’s it, good girl.” ellie said before attacking your clit with her tongue, the combination driving you insane.

her tongue flicked and her fingers continued the way they were, the rhythm making your stomach knot and your toes curl. 

“fuck ellie,” you moaned. your back arched and she held your hips down firmly with her free hand.

she kept going until you could feel yourself about to cum. your moans and whimpers got louder and you let out a cry before your body softened and went limp. ellie continued licking and moving her fingers at a slower rhythm to make sure you were definitely done.  

your hand moved some hair out of her face and she withdrew and looked up at you, slowly removing her fingers.

she came up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on her lips mumbling suggestively, “what game do you want me to help you play next?”

[honey-milk-depresso]

“He wonders…” TWST boys dreaming about their crush (Heartslabyul)

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde (literally just Idia) | Diasomnia

Ace Trappola

Ace would never admit it to you that he actually fell for you. And hard. Most of the time he just tried to cover it up by teasing you a lot. In reality, Ace can’t help but constantly dream about you all the time. And he hates it.

The thought of your laughter and smile while he drones out makes him dazed and hypnotised while in the middle of class, before he’s snapped back to reality by the teacher sharply calling for his name with a stone cold glare to wake him up.

When he’s in his basketball match and you suddenly pop up in his head in a pretty outfit while asking him out on a date, his lips subconsciously pouting a little while his cheeks darkened in red shade by just a tad bit, eyes clearly not focus… and he gets hit straight in the face by the ball.

He went to the infirmary for that one, since Floyd threw it to his face a bit to hard and it gave him a nosebleed. Ace hates it that you came to the infirmary to see him, with a worried look and nagged at him things that ring out white noise to him as he starts to dream of you again while you’re here.

The effect you have on him is very clear to Ace, that you are bold enough to run rent-free in his head almost everyday and not spare him an ounce of mercy. You’re the one teasing him all the time. That’s so unfair, as if he’s in a game he has no chance of winning.

His cheeks slowly turn red again, and he looks away. “Excuse me? Are you even listening to me? I said be careful next time!” You grabbed his face by cupping his cheeks and turning him towards you. “I was seriously worried you broke your nose!”

His dreamy thoughts of you raced in his head once more. You’ll be the death of him until he could finally utter out his confession. <3

Deuce Spade

The moment he fell for you, his teenage hormones didn’t help him even try to repress it. Once he dreamed about you, he really dreamed about you.

From how he dreamt about you on a date with him on a motorbike, or the both of you having a picnic together, to dreaming of you in a white dress… n-no wait, t-that’s too early- w-wha- “WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!” He shouted in the middle of the hallway while walking to class, suddenly embarrassed he yelled that while other students were around.

Every time he dreams of you, he makes it obvious that he is, unintentionally. Deuce would look dazed and almost vulnerable, cheeks flushed slightly pink, and most importantly, smiling stupidly to himself as his cheeks rest on his hands. Of course, Ace would take advantage of this to scare him while in this state, but even then would Ace start to get bored of it. Because he’s still not making a move.

He wants to tell you his little (very much an understatement) crush on you… but when you really face him he suddenly goes quiet and talks about everything but his confession. Not only that, he knows he dreams about you, and Deuce feels rather guilty for doing so and can’t overcome his shyness because of it.

As a result, Deuce came to his seniors for advice and all of them said the same thing: it’s better out of your system now than later. His dreams of you became more and more frequent, where he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to pursue a romantic relationship with you. “Deuce?”

Deuce blinked, suddenly realising he was with you in PE Class and he’s just sitting down looking aimlessly. “Come on, silly. Don’t doze off in the middle of class,” you smiled. He blushed, he was dreaming of you again. It’s now or never for his dreams to become reality… <3

Trey Clover

It’s not easy knowing if he’s dreaming or not, and he rarely does anyways. He doesn’t even know how could ever dream something so sappy and romantic… until he does.

Trey would only realise he ever has a crush on you the moment he realises he spent 5 minutes thinking about you without realising he was. He dreamt about how you two would bake together, smear frosting and batter on each other, laughing together as he hugs you from behind…

…Ah. He definitely has a crush on you. As much as Trey want to deny it, the thoughts of you loving him in a way that most definitely wouldn’t be classed as “just friends” is something he can’t reject either. So he sort of just… accepts the fact he does indeed have a crush on you.

Trey ultimately treats you the same: your kind upperclassman you can always come asking for his help. It’s just that he makes himself more obvious that he wants the relationship to bloom into something more, and open up parts of him you that he doesn’t often show. He can be a mischievous little guy if you really ask for it~ ofc he is I hate him Argh *kisses him* >://

When his dreams of you frolicking in a field of daisies while smiling warmly at each other with loving eyes makes him really embarrass, and it’s something Cater definitely teases him about because it’s just so sappy, he still wonders. And he wonders if you dreamt of him in similar situations. Not in a creepy way but… he’s be really happy if you do, he hopes you do. Because that way, he knows that perhaps his feelings are being reciprocated.

When the time is right, when the both of you are alone in the kitchen, when you two are fooling around with oblivious joy, to not care about what anyone says about the two of you teasing each other with frosting and toppings… he would tell you… tell you tha-

“Trey? Are you gonna tell me the recipe on what we’re baking today?” You giggled, snapping him out of his thoughts. Huh… his own dream had come true. Now it’s only a matter of time, just when it’s right. “Oh! Of course. I have a little surprise for you afterwards, I hope it makes you happy.” <3

Cater Diamond

He shamelessly dreams of the both of you on dates, taking couple selfies together, and so much more. The only thing is that Cater doesn’t tell anyone that, although Trey pretty much has a hunch of who he’s thinking about when he sighs dreamily with a love stricken smile.

Cater dreams very fondly over each selfie you took with him, dreaming that one of those selfies would have you kissing his cheek, or the other way around whichever you prefer. Every flirt he sends your way back then was always platonic, and you knew. But now, it seems that he desperately hopes you do pick up that there’s something slightly different.

He dreams you picked up on his flirts and just kiss him on the spot, he dreams you fell in love the moment he fell for you too, he dreams that one day the both of you could live together… wait- JFKSKDJF OKAY WOW- HE WENT THAT FAR HUH-

Cater smiled sheepishly to himself, blushing furiously as the sudden realisation hits him that his feelings for you has grown beyond just a crush. Like a… super crush…crush. Yeah, that’s it. That’s gotta be trending.

Trey shakes his head as he listens to Cater ranting about how stupid he is for realising (and as if Trey would have DEFINITELY immediately know he had a crush on anyone I wish it was me-/hj )and tells him he should really try to tell you since you’re not really picking up on any signs he throws in. “It’s either you do or you don’t Cater,” Trey’s words would always ring in his head.

If only he could skip pass the whole confession anxiety and cut straight into the acceptance of being in a romantic relationship. If only he could… “It’s either you do or you don’t, Ca-”

“Cater?” “Gah!” The poor boy being startled by you, causing you to flinch. “I-is there something wrong?” “Wrong? Me?? Pshhh, nah, never!” “…you’re not a very good liar right now.” He sighs, suddenly feeling his cheeks burning hot. It’s either you do or you don’t…

“Well, maybe one thing’s on my mind…” <3

Riddle Rosehearts

He dreams about you the moment he fell for you, but the latter feels quite guilty about it. He knows what he’s thinking are romantic fantasies but why does he dream of such when he shouldn’t? When you two clearly establish that you two were only friends?

His dreams of you at a tea party where your hands covered his, or how the two of you play croquet alone with one another, or how the two of you kiss under the rose shelter… no. He shouldn’t… Riddle believes that his thoughts were unacceptable, especially when you two are friends. And you think you two were only friends, right? Then he can’t.

Unfortunately his dreams turned him to spending less time with you, so that he’d stop dreaming of you in such way. Of course, it didn’t work. He dreamt of you more frequently than before, and sometimes even nightmares of you leaving from him for good. He knew deep down he wanted you to stay, but why such dreams?

“Well it’s pretty normal to feel some romantic feelings for your friend. I mean I had a crush on someone when I was a kid, of course, backfired hard and we moved on.” “Trey, that doesn’t sound like a good example.” “Aha… well, I wasn’t serious about it since I wasn’t thinking serious, but if you really are serious about those dreams you have of them, Riddle, you should just tell them. You never know, maybe they feel the same way about you, too.”

The boy pondered for a while. “You feel the same way”… what if you do? And yet again he dreams again. He made it his plan, to apologise to you and explain why he did so, and tell you he’s come to accept his feelings and confess. Simple, practical and straightforward. He just hopes you think it’s genuine, because he really is.

He’s thought of the scenario over and over again, smiling softly to himself about how you’d nod your head and throw yourself at him to hug Riddle, and- “R-Riddle..?” He perked his head up with a startled look. You were right in front of him, suddenly bumping into you. “Er… how are you?” You smiled sadly, and he remembered how he had secluded you from himself. “W-wait, y/n I… I’m sorry…” “A-about what?” With his cheeks tinted pink, he took a deep breath… <3

Reblogs help!^^

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Jealousy Is... Beautiful

Pairing : Han Jisung x F!Reader Word Count : 4.3k TW : yandere!Han Jisung ; cheating ; manipulation ; suggestive content ; murder ; mention of kidnapping ;

How unfortunate for you to have been where you were, to have been in his line of sight while aimlessly wandering around the grocery store, picking up odds and ends to add to whatever dinner it was that you were planning on cooking that night. Oh how fortunate he had been to find his new fixation, his new obsession, his new toy. 

“You don’t have to keep tying me up you know…” You mumbled, tugging at the rope restraints that had been placed around your wrists before he had gone to work, the bindings so tight that you had lost most feeling in your wrists down to your fingertips about three hours before he had returned home. “I’m not going to leave you… I love you, Hannie.” You smiled softly up at him, and he grunted softly, moving behind you to undo the ropes. 

The sound of his pocket knife folding open used to make you jump before your body would tense up, awaiting the moment for him to slice you with the shiny blade, a moment that he would never make happen, he adored you too much to ever hurt you that way, but he did enjoy the way you reacted. Now you wiggled your fingers with anticipation, knowing that soon you’d be free. This is what he had been waiting for, what he had wanted from the beginning, so why did it feel so… wrong? 

“Go get something to eat and then go back to the room, I’m going out.” He muttered, letting the ropes drop to the floor and not even bothering to look at you as you got up from the chair, following after him out of the room and going straight to the kitchen. You were so obedient, you never went against him anymore, you just followed all of his orders like a puppy and when he didn’t have anything for you to do, you’d sit and wait for him to give you something to do. You aimed to please him, and it was almost disgusting how okay you were with everything that he was doing. He knew that what he was doing was wrong, but maybe there was something wrong with you that you didn’t realize just how wrong it was. It was becoming… boring.

“Where are you going?” You asked, a bottle of water in one hand as the water for your ramen sat on the stove waiting to boil. “I made enough for the both of us… I thought you’d want to eat with me. We used to eat together all the time.” There was a sad look in your eye that he found way too much enjoyment in seeing, it sparked something inside of him, something that had him wanting to see just how far he could push you, how much you were willing to take, because locking you up and tying you up just wasn’t doing it anymore. 

There was a time where you’d beg him not to lock you away, a time where you’d beg him and promise him that you wouldn’t try to leave, but it was a time that he didn’t trust your words, and he found enjoyment in the tears that would stream down your cheeks as he’d push you into the cold metal chair that would hold you until he decided to come back home. Now you didn’t cry, you didn’t push back against him, you’d willingly sit in the chair and hold your hands behind you so that it was easier for him to tie them. It was like when your opponent in a video game gave up, you were making things far too easy for him. 

“Well that was before, so just eat my portion or save it, throw it away… I don’t care what you do with it.” He said nonchalantly, but his eyes stayed glued to you, watching your reaction, seeing the way your bottom lip trembled and your nose scrunched up as quiet sniffles sounded from your side of the room. It felt bad, but if this was the only way he could get some sort of reaction out of you, well, it was worth it. See, his view of the relationship was quite toxic, and he knew this, he just couldn’t really help it and he didn’t want to help it, so he went with it. If he wasn’t fighting for you, fighting to keep you with him, if you were willingly staying, there was no fun to be had, and the relationship would be quite pointless if it weren’t fun for both people involved. “Don’t be up too late, I’m having a friend over.” 

Your eyes narrowed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it looked like you were getting angry with him, or at least annoyed. The water bottle that you had been holding was slammed onto the counter as you glared at him and it took everything in him to not smile at the beautiful act of defiance. “So you can make time for a friend but not me? That’s not fair!” You shouted at him and now he was able to laugh, mainly because it only further annoyed you and he loved it. 

“Life’s not fair. Deal with it. Remember, don’t be up when I get home.” The thing is, he knew you’d be up anyway, and even more so now because he had told you not to be. Not just that, but he wasn’t actually planning on staying out long, he didn’t even have someone to meet up with, not yet at least. “I want your little dinner mess cleaned up too, I can’t have someone thinking I live like a slob.” 

He could see that you were biting back your words, and he wished you’d just let them out, give him a reason to stay with you, to show him that you were worth the fight, that you could be fun for him again. “It’ll be cleaned.” You mumbled, turning on your heel and going back over to the stove to check the water. “Have fun. I love you, Hannie.” You whispered, and there it was again, the reasoning for what he was about to do. You loved him too much, he had to give you a reason not to so that he could fight for you again. 

His eyes moved over your frame for half a second longer, watching the way it shuddered with quiet sobs and he could only admire it, the beauty of the pain he was causing you without having to even lay a finger on you. That was the beauty of it all really, knowing how much he could hurt you without even leaving a mark, it was like finding a new level in the game and neither of you had any idea what was coming. It was exciting, it was fresh, it was just what he wanted. 

The lock clicked on the front door as you sat on the couch, curled up into yourself with one of the pillows while you tuned in and out to the movie that was playing on the screen. He was coming home, and you weren’t sure what he’d do when he saw you were still awake, that you weren’t in your room, and the thought of him actually taking time out of his day to scold you was… exciting. He’d actually pay attention to you, and that’s all you really wanted, you craved it. 

“Hannie…?” You called out his name when you heard the door slam into the wall, jumping off the couch to make sure he was okay, and you wished that you had stayed on the couch, or maybe that you had just gone to your room like you were supposed to. “Oh…” You muttered, and your vision would have gone red with the anger you were feeling if it weren’t already blurry with the tears that formed at the sight. 

The stranger clung to him, her arms wrapped around his neck and her lips dangerously close to his as she attempted to whisper to him, asking who you were. “It’s alright, she’s no one, just my sister.” He said, smirking at you before turning to the woman and meeting her lips and then dragging her away into the direction of his own bedroom. His words hurt more than the visual that was now burned into your mind, unable to be wiped clean, and you soon found yourself stumbling into the room that he had made for you, and it started to make sense why you never got to sleep in his room with him, why everything in the house pertaining to you was locked away in the little room. 

You were no one, you were nothing to him, and now came the question of why he still kept you around. It was a sad question to ask yourself because you loved him, you had worked so hard to make yourself love him because that’s what he had said he wanted, and now that he got it, it’s like he didn’t want you anymore. Life really wasn’t fair in that aspect, and it’s not that you ever thought it was, if life was fair, the relationship that you had with Han would be normal and you wouldn’t have gone through months and months of emotional torture only to end up getting cheated on anyway. 

Then came the matter of what you were supposed to do. Were you just supposed to sit there and listen to the sounds of his bed rocking against the wall and the whimpered moans of his name spoken through the lips of another woman? Jealousy overtook the sadness that you had felt, and that jealousy wasn’t one that walked the line between desperation and sadness, no, it was fueled by hatred and anger and the need for revenge, and that in itself wasn’t like you, at least not like the you from before, the you that hadn’t been tainted and ruined by the man that you for some reason loved. 

Things that you had looked over before started to come into view, really taking shape as you sat in the tiny room that felt almost claustrophobic now. The suitcase that sat right in front of your dresser, the box had been looked over so many times, but now you were looking for things, picking them out and finding the meanings behind every single little thing that had been perfectly placed. The false sense of security that the box was supposed to give you, to make you believe that you could pack up and leave whenever you wanted, although you knew that wasn’t true, not when you had tried to leave so many times before. Is that what he wanted? Maybe that’s why you had never noticed it before, maybe he had just put it there recently. 

You didn’t want to leave though, you loved him, and that in itself felt disgusting. The word connected with someone like him now made it feel like you had rolled in a puddle of mudd, you felt filthy, but the feeling was there and it was strong, that’s why it hurt so much to see someone that wasn’t you clinging onto him the way that you usually did. He had molded you into what he had wanted you to be, and maybe a night or two away would allow you to shape back into yourself and he could find someone else to shape into what he wanted. 

Sanity was something that had left you long ago, and maybe that’s why you were crying as you threw the top pile of clothes into the tiny luggage case. How could one be sane in these conditions anyway? Every single moment of every single day felt like your head was being whipped in multiple different directions, it was dizzying, and you found it easier to just love him rather than be jerked around while trying to go against him. “Where are you going?” His voice sounded from the doorway of the bedroom, and you couldn’t even look up at him, not without feeling nauseous as images of what happened in his own room filled your mind. 

“Why does it matter?” You mumbled, slamming the lid of the suitcase down and latching it before standing up. Even still, you couldn’t look at him, knowing that as soon as you caught even a single glimpse of his face you’d become weak again, you’d fall apart for him and you’d continue to fit into the mold until you hardened and lost every ounce of who you truly were. 

What you didn’t know was that you were playing into his game, this was exactly what he had wanted. God, the power that he felt watching the tears that clung to your chin finally fall to the floor, the way your head hung, the way you still seemed reluctant to leave, it was amazing. “What do you mean, sweetpea? You know that it matters to me.” He whispered in a hushed tone, walking towards you, his heart racing from the new found sense of excitement, it was like a predator stalking towards its prey. 

He reached out to touch you, testing the waters, and the way you pulled back had him biting back a smile. There you were, the girl that had caught his attention in the grocery store, the girl who had struggled and kicked and left bruises and scratches up and down his arms and legs as he dragged her into the back of his car. “Don’t touch me…” You hissed, swatting his hand away and trying to walk around him to get to the door, but he grabbed your elbow, holding tightly to pull you back towards him. “I said don’t.” 

He loved it, he loved you, he loved you like this. You didn’t want him to touch you which made him just want to touch you more, and right now, you didn’t want him to love you, which only made him fall madly head over heels in love. How contradictory was that? It made no sense. “You don’t really want to leave me, do you? You know that I love you and only you, sweetpea.” He cooed, brushing away the tears that lingered on your cheeks with feather light touches. 

“No you don’t.” You grabbed his wrist and pulled it away from your face, forcefully pushing it back down to his side. The adrenaline was pumping through his veins, your disobedience, your anger, the jealousy, it was like a drug to him, so highly addictive and intoxicating it made him feel like he was floating. “I want to leave you. This is what you wanted and I’m giving it to you.” It’s exactly what he wanted, the chase, the fight, the arguments, your anger, your jealousy. 

“And what are you going to do when you leave? Won’t you come back to me? I thought you loved me…” The words rolled through his mind and out his mouth like a script from a teleprompter, perfectly conveyed, acted out in just the right manner to make you really believe that he didn’t want you to leave. It wasn’t exactly untrue though, he didn’t want you to leave, he wouldn’t let you leave, you were his, but there was nothing more fun than making you think that you had a chance only to watch your spirits fall when he found you and brought you right back to where you belong. 

You shrugged your shoulders, but a smirk pulled at your lips, it almost looked exactly like his, and there was something so precious about it, the way you didn’t even notice that it was the same exact look he’d give you. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw it, but his smile quickly fell at your next words. “I’ll go to a friend's house, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me coming over. I think I deserve the same kind of love you gave your little friend upstairs.” 

Excitement, anger, adrenaline, rage, his own jealousy coursed through him at the thought of someone else with you. He grabbed the suitcase from your hand and threw it out into the hallway, slamming the bedroom door shut before pushing you towards the bed. “He couldn’t give you that kind of love if he tried…” He hissed through his teeth, his hands roaming over your body, his touch rough yet so delicate at the same time. “And if you even think about saying some shit like that ever again… you won’t have any friends to run to if you ever manage to leave here.” 

You rolled your eyes and he had to remind himself that he had promised you in the very beginning that he would never hurt you, a promise that he vowed to keep, but right now you were testing his patience and it was running thin. “If you think I’m going to let you touch me after listening to you rail that bitch in your bed, you’re sorely mistaken, Jisung. She must be quite special though since she got to go in your room and I haven’t.” 

The chuckle that left him was deep, the sound of it had electricity pulsing through your veins and ending right between your legs where you so desperately wanted him to be, but were too prideful to tell him. “Is that what this is, sweetpea? Are you jealous that I haven’t taken you in my bed yet?” He teased, his fingers walking along the outside of your thighs, down to your knees before pushing them apart. You didn’t answer, and he already knew what the answer was, so he quickly pulled you up, his fingers lacing between yours as he walked you to the bedroom. 

It was embarrassing how excited you got just from the thought of finally seeing what was behind the door, but when he opened it, your excitement drained and you were left shocked and physically sickened by what you saw, but strangely… It made you love him, trust him even more. “You didn’t…” You whispered, frozen in the doorway as you took in the scene that was laid out in front of you. 

“Silly, you think I’d ever actually be with anyone but you? You know I love you…” He murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing along each of your fingers, his own eyes drawn to the white sheets that had been painted scarlett red with the blood of the unsuspecting woman who thought that she was in for the night of her life, unaware that it was actually the last night of her life. “You’re the only one who’s allowed to touch me, allowed to kiss me… And she said some things about you that I wasn’t quite fond of… It doesn’t really matter now though, does it? So… Do you still want to sleep with me in my room, or do you think I’d be allowed to sleep with you until I take the trash out?” 

That was the thing about Han Jisung, the thing that confused you, that left your head spinning. He was heartless when he wanted to be, and he’d hurt you in worse ways emotionally than anyone ever could hurt you physically, but at the end of it all, he loved you, and there was nothing in your mind that would ever make you doubt that. He was toxic, and most drugs were, but you needed him, and he needed you, and that’s why you tugged him back towards your own room and pulled him down onto the bed beside you, feeding into both of your strange addictions as you melted under his touch and gave into him completely. At the end of the day, you both had won and got exactly what you wanted, and if this is what it took to get it, you were more than happy to be his pawn and play into his game. 

“Tell me, sweetpea…” Han hummed the words against your neck, his voice vibrating through your skin, open mouth kisses being placed everywhere he could reach in between words. “Were you really going to try to leave me?” His roaming hands had stopped at your hips, his fingernails digging into your soft skin, the sensation of it flooding you with a sickeningly sweet mixture of both pleasure and pain. 

Was this part of the game, or did he really want to know? The longer you played the game, the more time he’d spend with you, giving you exactly what you wanted. “Yes.” It wasn’t the truth, you knew that you’d never be able to, but you loved watching the soft look in his eyes immediately change to something darker, sharper. “And I wasn’t going to come back either.” Another lie, but you couldn’t deny how giddy you felt when his eyes turned to knives as sharp as the one he used on his poor victim. 

“Really?” He had pulled away from your neck at this point, his eyes fixated on your face, making you squirm with anticipation. “I’ll just have to tie you up tighter to make sure that never happens, won’t I?” He cooed, and you nodded quickly, the small glimmer that lit your eyes at the proposition didn’t go unnoticed by him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? My perfect girl…” He leaned in to kiss you, the force behind it had his teeth crashing against yours as one of his hands moved to tangle in the crown of your hair. “What’s your friend's name?” 

There were reasons for the question, reasons that he’d never voice to you out of his own fear that you’d use it to your advantage, but knowing that there was someone out there, someone who could possibly take you away from him, someone who would lay their hands on you in the way only he was allowed to, it didn’t sit right with him. “Which one?” You asked softly, feigning innocence as you smirked up at him. Was this the way he had made you feel earlier? No, this had to be worse, the way he was feeling was far worse than what he had made you feel. 

“Which. One?” He repeated, grabbing your hands that had been running along his arms and pinning them above your head, long fingers holding both your wrists in a bruising grip as he used his other hand to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me all of their names.” He demanded, his own jealousy getting the better of him, the tips of his fingers pressing harshly against your jaw, only growing more painful the longer you made him wait. “Right. Now.” 

You had to be just as sick in the head as he was to be enjoying this, to be reveling in the attention that he was giving you. You had never felt more… loved, in your life, and you knew that you were pushing it, but the thrill of it all had you going further, bold lies slipping from your lips without even a second of hesitation. “Oh wouldn’t you love to know, Hannie. All the friends that I could run to when you’re too busy, all the men that could please me when you don’t have time…” 

His teeth audibly clenched, barring the growl that was building in his throat at your threats. He quickly rolled you over, pressing all of his weight on top of you as he leaned closer to your ear, his voice low when he spoke. “You’re not going anywhere, you’ll have no one to go to. I’m gonna tie you up and make you watch as I get rid of every single one of them, and then I’m gonna fuck you senseless in their pools of blood and that’s the only time they’ll ever touch you.” 

Why did that excite you? Why did your stomach tingle with an excitement that could be felt between your thighs, pooling in the sheer lace panties that you were wearing. God, it felt wrong to want that so much, and a part of you was wishing that you actually had friends that you could sacrifice for that reason alone, but you wanted it, you needed it. “Promise?” You whispered, biting your bottom lip as the domineering aura that haloed him faded away completely, the feeling of his presence suddenly softer, sweeter, radiating a brighter white that was a stark contrast to what he felt like before.

“And this is why I’ll only ever love you…” He reassured, pressing a chaste peck of a kiss to your cheek before lifting himself up so you could roll back over, the cocky smile he was wearing was mirrored back to him by you. “You exhaust me… get some sleep and I’ll take the whole day off tomorrow to give you exactly what you want, sweetpea.” 

That’s why the two of you were so perfect for each other, he had made you into the perfect image, and now you finally understood what that image was. You were him, and he was you, the both of you mirrored versions of each other, the toxicity that spilled from the both of you would have been deadly to most normal people, but you both thrived in it, relished in it. You both were absolutely mad, madly in love with each other, obsessed with each other, and you’d both do anything that it took to make the other stay, even if that meant destroying each other emotionally just to give love and comfort after breaking each other down to nothing, building each other back up just to repeat the process over again. It was fun, it was tumultuous, it was enjoyable, and it was dangerous, and that’s why you loved it, why you loved him so much. Jealousy is truly beautiful no matter who it comes from, but it was far more beautiful when it was coming from each other. 

tag list : @goodnightlittleme @whatudowhennooneseesyou

[watchmegetobsessed]

BABY MAMA

A/N: woke up and just knew i needed to write about dad Harry, bc lets be honest, he is my fav. this fic is perfectly fine as a oneshot, but if you'd like, it could be a sequel to Grammy Winner Husband and Baby Grammy, i wrote things to line up with them!

PAIRING: Husband!Harry / Dad!Harry x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2k

masterlist

The arena is blowing up, the fans are screaming from the top of their lungs and Harry is putting out a show just as good as the previous ones have been. He is blowing the stage up, singing, dancing, joking around with the fans, enjoying this time he gets to spend with the people who got him to this point in his life. He’ll never be not grateful for what he has, what he is experiencing, no matter how hard this life can get sometimes.

“Dallas, how are you feeling tonight?” he asks in the mic as he walks back to his water bottle to have a few sips. The crowd erupts, the screams almost burst his eardrums, but he just chuckles, easing his thirst with some water before he returns to the microphone stand.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he teasingly asks, though the reaction is the same. Insane screaming. “Alright, let’s move this show on before you get bored,” he chuckles playfully, the band starts playing the next song and he is back at what he does the best. Performing.

Though not far from the arena, there’s someone who thinks there’s something he is even better at than performing. That person is you, and you’re one hundred percent sure Harry is best at being a father to your five months old son.

Owning the stage, putting out the utter best he can, Harry’s thoughts still wander away from the show he is supposed to be focusing on. He can’t help it, his instincts are just completely drawn to his baby in the hotel suit, dying to know how he is doing. Leaving for the show late afternoon was harder than usually, because baby Theo was having a fever and coughing quite badly. His heart was breaking that he couldn’t help his son, didn’t even know what could be done for such a tiny baby.

“Love, he’ll be alright, okay? The doctor is on the way, it’s gonna be fine,” you told him gently as he was cradling Theo to his naked chest, always so eager to be skin-to-skin with him. Harry kissed his soft little curls on top of his head before nodding, though you knew it was eating him away.

“Call me or Jeff if something happens, okay?” he told you, handing Theo over to you, who was finally asleep after fussing for hours.

“I will,” you nodded, but he cupped your face to make you look at him.

“Y/N, I mean it. I’ll come off the stage if—“

“You won’t come off the stage, Theo is gonna be fine, he just probably got a cold from the aircon at the greenroom in Denver. He’ll be here when you get back, okay?”

He knew this tone, this was your momma bear voice and he would never argue with you when you used it, so he just nodded, kissed you and then Theo’s chubby cheek before heading out.

Now as he is nearing the end of the show he can’t help but think about finally being back at the hotel with his wife and baby, though he won’t let it be seen how eager he is to get off the stage.

The last song passes, the whole arena blows up from the energy and he is throwing kisses everywhere as he heads off the stage, down the aisle that leads him backstage. As he puts on his mask he turns around one last time, throwing some more kisses around to his beloved fans before disappearing behind the curtains.

“Did she call?” he instantly asks Jeff instantly, who hands him his phone over, a text from you already waiting for him.

Doc just left, everything is fine, left some meds for bub. Love you Xx

Even though this is what you told him before too, he feels relieved that the doctor confirmed it, but he still can’t wait to see the two of you.

“Alright, get the car ready, I’m leaving in ten,” he tells Jeff.

“Got it,” he nods, not even daring to argue with him. He knows better than to stand between Harry and his baby.

His legs bounce nervously on his way back to the hotel and he jumps out of the car as if it was on fire, running inside in a rush. He swipes the keycard through the reader on the door and opens it quietly, scanning over the place for you and Theo and there you are, sitting in one of the armchairs with his sleeping son in your arms, your hand gently tapping on his bum. You must have just finished feeding him, because a rag is still thrown over your shoulder and your shirt is all wrinkled around your chest. Theo loves playing with the fabric while you breastfeeding him and Harry loves watching his tiny fingers grab onto it and massaging it aimlessly.

“Hey,” he breathes out, quietly pushing the door closed behind him before he walks over, kneeling in front of you. He kisses Theo’s forehead first, before pressing his lips to yours too. “How is bub feeling?”

“He is doing good. The doc gave him some meds for the fever and we have a syrup for the coughing. He said he’ll be fine in a few days,” you softly explain to him, nodding towards everything the doctor left you on the coffee table.

Harry grabs the bottles, inspecting them as if he knows anything about medicine and you can’t help but smile as he furrows his eyebrows, reading the packaging.

“Want to put him to bed?” you ask him, his head snapping up right away.

“Of course,” he nods eagerly. You both stand up and he carefully takes the little boy from your arms without waking him up. “Hey bubs, I missed you,” he coos at Theo and as you watch him sway with the sleeping baby, your heart could easily burst from just the sight of them.

You didn’t know what life would be like as a family of three. After Harry posted a picture of you with his Grammy award and your belly ready to pop, the whole world went crazy over the fact that Harry Styles is going to be a dad. Despite the buzz, you managed to stay hidden for the rest of your pregnancy and just three weeks after that post, Theodore Styles decided to come to the world. Harry cancelled everything for the first two months, it was just the three of you, showering in the joys of parenthood. You had all the ups and downs, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Then tour got rescheduled and Harry was hesitant whether it was a good idea to go on the road with a five months old.

“Sarah and Mitch are coming too, she gave birth a week after me,” you reasoned when Harry was about to cancel the whole tour. It took you some time to convince him that it’s gonna be fine, though you knew he would be extra cautious with Theo.

Now as you see him gently sway his way to the bassinet next to your bed, knowing that he just performed to thousands of people and now he is here with you and your son, you wouldn’t change it to some peace at home. Besides, you’re convinced tour is gonna do good for Theo, make him get used to people around him, not just the two of you or the grandparents and aunts. During the first night in Vegas, he barely spent an hour in your arms, everyone wanted a piece of him and you gladly let them befriend him, especially because he loves meeting new people, just like his daddy.

As Harry lays him into the bassinet and stands next to it with a lovesick smile on his face, you sneak behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smells so fresh, he surely had a quick shower before heading back to the hotel, but you’re already planning to seduce him to join you for a quick shower as well. He won’t say no.

“Watched a livestream for a bit, you were so good,” you hum, kissing his right shoulder blade and you don’t miss how he leans back against you. “Loved the shimmery outfit.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles softly. Reaching around, he pulls you forwards so he can wrap you in his arms, kissing your forehead gently. “I missed seeing you dance at the side,” he smirks at you and you don’t miss the reference to the old times.

On his first solo tour, when you weren’t even married yet he often caught you dancing like crazy at the side of the stage, it would always make him laugh mid-song and you loved hearing his giggles through the mic, so you often did it on purpose. A few nights ago in Vegas you did the same, but with Theo in your arms, a massive ear protector on his head so the noise didn’t hurt him. When Harry spotted you, he almost started crying, he mouthed I love youand then carried on with the show.

“I’ll be there soon,” you smile at him, cupping his face in your hands to pull him down for a kiss that’s more than just a peck. “Now, I need help with something,” you mumble against his lips.

“Anything, baby.”

“I need you to help me shower,” you tell him cheekily. He pulls back and stares down at you with a playful grin, his hands already wandering under your shirt.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, I need someone to wash my back and… maybe somewhere else,” you hum seductively and start pulling him towards the bathroom, peeking at Theo one last time, but he is sleeping so deep, the two of you can have some alone time.

“Alright, I could never deny anything from my favorite milf,” he grins, but you smack his chest with a gasp.

“Harry! I told you not to call me that!” you protest, the two of you walking into the bathroom not to bother the sleeping baby in the room. You start running the water right away so it can be nice and hot for you when you walk in.

“Why? You are a milf,” he smirks, so full of himself, already pulling his shirt over his head.

“Then you’re a dilf, just so you know.”

“Baby, my fans have been calling me that for years, even before Theo,” he chuckles softly.

“You were destined to be a dad,” you giggle, getting rid of your own clothes. “Hey, if Theo feels better tomorrow, we could maybe take a walk in that park we saw on the way here,” you suggest, but when no answer comes, you look at Harry and find him just standing there, fully naked, staring at you grinning widely. “What?” you ask, glancing down at your own naked body. Suddenly, you are way too aware of the weight you haven’t been able to lose after giving birth, the stretch marks on your waist and how you’re not at all freshly shaved. Just as you’d move your hands to cover yourself a bit, Harry grabs your wrists and stops you.

“You are so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he hums, dropping his head until his lips could reach yours.

“Stop being such a flirt,” you giggle, feeling your face heating up.

“It’s the truth! I have the prettiest baby mama and that’s a fact.”

He looks at you with so much love and adoration in those beautiful green eyes, it almost makes you cry, knowing that this man is your husband and you get to spend the rest of your life with him.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you kiss him hard, pulling him into the spacious walk in shower.

“Then come and get your baby mama wet,” you giggle against his lips, making him laugh with the ambiguous request as he shuts the glass door behind him, his lips hungrily kissing wherever he can reach and you’re pretty sure the hot water is not the only thing that’s steaming up the glass.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[sluttywonwoo]

pretend || j.ww x reader

Summary: reading thirst tweets with your co-star/boyfriend’s best friend makes things a little tense

Warnings: swearing, smut mentions (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n:  originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

The sound of Mingyu cracking his knuckles next to you sent a shiver down your spine, making you cringe instinctively. You turned to glare at him and leaned away from the noise.

“I hate when you do that!” you groaned.

He smirked. “I know, that’s why I like doing it.”

You looked over at Wonwoo, who was sitting across the room with the crew, and pointed to Gyu. 

“Can you tell your best friend to stop being annoying?”

“Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being dramatic?” Mingyu retaliated.

“I’m not picking sides!” Wonwoo shouted back and held up his hands in surrender.

You let your jaw drop. “I’ll remember that, Jeon.”

“Baby, I-” Wonwoo started to defend himself, but fell silent when the producer got up from her chair and approached you and Mingyu who were sitting behind the camera. 

“Which one of you wants to take this?” she asked, holding up a large insulated jug full of paper strips. 

“I’ll take it,” Mingyu offered and set the cup in his lap. 

“What a gentleman,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he muttered, “because you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

The producer gave you both a sideways look. “Are you guys alright? Should we take a minute before starting?”

“No, we’re fine,” you assured her.

“We don’t actually hate each other,” Mingyu added, “this is just how... we are.”

She didn’t look any less concerned, but nodded anyway. “Okay, well remember what your director said about playing up your chemistry to promote the show. And when we call action just give a quick slate and start reading the tweets.”

She walked back over to her spot next to the cameraman and took a seat before looking over a checklist that had been handed to her and writing some notes on it.

“Nervous?” Mingyu whispered to you as you both waited for your cue.

“A little,” you admitted. “You?”

“I’m a bit on edge,” he concurred. “Mostly because your boyfriend is about to watch me read filthy comments about you on-camera.”

You glanced over at Wonwoo who gave you an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. “He’ll be fine. How bad can they be?”

From a distance, the producer you had just spoken to called for everyone to be quiet on set and signaled the cameras to start rolling. You perked up and straightened your dress, waiting for Mingyu to take the lead. 

“Hi guys, I’m Kim Mingyu.”

“And I’m y/n y/l/n.”

“You might recognize us from our new Netflix series, Breaking Curfew, where we play opposite each other in what you might call a... complicated romantic relationship.”

“We’re enemies with benefits,” you summarized. “And today we’re here with Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about each other.”

“Ladies first,” Mingyu said and held the cup out to you.

You closed your eyes and sifted through the strips of paper with one hand, selecting one at random. 

“Okay, this one’s about you. ‘Kim Mingyu has the prettiest eyes’.” You grinned as you watched your co-star’s cheeks turn pink. “He’s totally blushing right now! We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff!”

“Thank you very much to whoever tweeted that,” Mingyu said and cleared his throat. 

“I agree with this person,” you continued, “you do have really pretty eyes.”

“Aw, thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome.”

“My turn.” Mingyu closed his eyes and rummaged around the cup before picking one. “‘Someone tell y/n y/l/n that I’m single and I get a discount at Olive Garden if she ever wants to let me take her out on a date’.”

You chuckled. “I do like Olive Garden.”

“She’ll get back to you on that one, mate,” Mingyu said quickly and let the crumpled piece of paper fall to the floor. 

You took that as a sign to move on so you reached into the jug and pulled out another tweet.

“Oh, this one’s about me again. ‘Y/n y/l/n scissor me challenge’.” You clapped a hand over your mouth in shock and thrust the slip of paper towards Mingyu.

“You know what, props for being so bold. What do you think, y/n? Are you going to take them up on the offer?”

“I’ll think about it,” you managed to choke out, sending Mingyu into a laughing fit. You fanned yourself with your hand as you tried to recover and motioned for your co-star to read another one. “Your turn.”

“‘Kim Mingyu and y/n y/l/n are my dream celebrity threesome,’” he read. “What a compliment, don’t you think?”

“Oh, for sure,” you agreed and winked as you held your hand to your ear in a call me motion. 

“These are just getting more and more vulgar, aren’t they?” Mingyu asked. 

“I don’t know that anything can beat the scissoring one,” you pointed out as you fished another tweet from the bucket. “Another one about Mingyu, okay. ‘I wanna suck Kim Mingyu’s soul through his dick then spit it back in his face’.” You blinked at the piece of paper in front of you in shock, scanning back over it to make sure you had read it right the first time. “Jesus... christ.”

Mingyu smirked and nudged your shoulder with his. 

You ignored him and pointed a finger at the camera in disgust. “I cannot believe you made me read this with my own two eyes. I could have lived my entire life without seeing those words in a sentence together!”

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Mingyu countered, running a thumb along his jawline cockily. 

“No, I have beef with whoever tweeted that now.”

“You’re just jealous that I like this tweet better than the threesome one.”

You sighed. “This interview was a bad idea. Your head is already so god damn big.”

Mingyu opened his mouth to retaliate, but paused like he had thought better of it and took a deep breath to compose himself. 

“Anyway, moving on.”

You watched as he sifted through the tweets and chose one from the bottom, reading it to himself and grinning slightly before reading it aloud. 

“‘Petition for y/n y/l/n to start an OnlyFans because I just know her tits are incredible. I can feel it in my bones’.”

You brought your hands up to your boobs self-consciously and laughed. “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

“I’ve seen them,” Mingyu added nonchalantly, “and I can confirm that twitter user ‘geminisuns’ is correct.”

“Mingyu!” 

“What? Do you know how many sex scenes we had to shoot? We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

You looked back over to the crew and made eye contact with the producer. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

“Maybe we should take a quick break,” she suggested and motioned for the cameras to stop rolling. “Get a drink, freshen up and be back here in five.”

“Do you think they’re going to use that part?” Mingyu asked as he followed you over to the water cooler. 

“I don’t know, dude,” you sighed in annoyance, “but great fucking job. The whole world already thinks we’re boning.”

“I don’t know about the whole world.” You glared at him. “Wonwoo knows we’re not.”

Wonwoo. You had nearly forgotten that your boyfriend was there on set with you. You looked around for him, and saw him still sitting in his designated guest chair looking at his phone. You could only imagine what he must be thinking of all of this. You should probably say something to him. 

You told Mingyu that you’d be back and made your way across the room to Wonwoo. Even from a distance you could tell that he was upset. 

His knuckles were pale and his jaw was tight. He didn’t look up at you when you approached him. 

“Sorry this is taking longer than expected,” you said, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured in response, still not looking at you. 

You sighed and draped yourself across him, slinging your arms loosely across his shoulders as you leaned down to see what he was doing on his phone. He was scrolling aimlessly on Instagram, not even liking any of the posts. 

“If you’re bored you can leave,” you said curtly and stood back up. 

“I’m not bored.”

“You’re not even paying attention to the shoot.”

“Trust me, it’s impossible not to. I’ve been trying to tune it out for the past ten minutes with no luck.”

“Why would you not want to pay attention?” you demanded even though the answer was sitting right in front of you. “This is a big deal for me.”

Wonwoo swallowed and finally looked up at you. “I know, baby. It’s just- do you know how hard it is to listen to my best friend talk about doing all of these dirty things to you-”

“He’s my best friend too,” you pointed out in a quiet hiss. “The only reason we’re together is because of him.”

Sometimes you felt the need to remind Wonwoo that you had known Mingyu longer than you had known him. If Gyu hadn’t brought him to set all those times back when you were filming in the fall, you wouldn’t even know about each other’s existence. 

“I know that.”

“You’ve done interviews like this before,” you argued. 

“I know,” he repeated.

“Then why are you being like this?” He didn’t answer, so you kept going. “You know my bare ass has been on tv, right-”

“Don’t,” Wonwoo warned and grabbed your wrist.

You gasped and flexed your fingers gingerly in his grasp, challenging him. “Don’t what?” 

“Y/n,”

“Don’t... act like I want to fuck your best friend?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question.

“Don’t pretend like I’d rather fulfill those tweets with him instead of you? Give the people what they want?”

You had to bite your tongue before you went any further and said something you might regret. Your words had already had the desired effect. You didn’t even have to look at Wonwoo’s lap to know that he was struggling not to get hard. 

You could see it in his eyes. The arousal that had turned the warm brown into black. The way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. You wondered if you would even make it back home before he’d break, if he would pull the car over on the side of the road and take you then and there. 

Your knees were weak at the mere thought of what you were in for later that night. Making Wonwoo jealous was admittedly one of your favorite pastimes, purely for selfish reasons. Possessive sex was arguably the best sex. The teasing, the hair-pulling, the choking, the face-fucking, all hit different when Wonwoo was reminding you who you belonged to. 

Wonwoo released your wrist from his grip and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Are you finished?”

You shook your head and grinned. “Just getting started.”

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