#i’m being dramatic he hasn’t said anything but all the things he hasn’t said say more than that

[awordsmith]

tangled up 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which you and Spencer join forces to babysit both Jack and Henry.

who? spencer x bau!reader  when? s6 category: novella content warnings: not proofed, contains nothing but pure fluff, reader and spencer get mistaken as Jack and Henry's parents... reid with warmth !!  word count: 4.9k a/n: first novella fic whaaaa....i've been wanting to write this one for a while, but i knew it wouldn't be that long, so this is perfect for my first novella fic!!; enjoy!

The morning was cold and frosty, and the only thing able to mend it: a large, hot latte. Hotch approached your desk as you set your things down. He leaned over and whispered conspicuously, “Are you sure you can come tonight?”

You rolled your eyes and whispered back, just as secretive, and perhaps some more to show how dramatic he was being, “Yes, Hotch,” you saluted him, “Jack will be in good hands.”

A gruff sound came from his throat–as if signifying his disbelief, “If you say so, do you remember what time?”

“Hotch?”

He looked around, glancing back at you with pressed lips. “Yeah?”

“I got this,” you pushed his hand–gripping your desk–off.

“Right,” he nodded, “no I know.”

You raised a brow and crossed your arms, “so why are you stalling? Is this about your date? Because if you don’t want to go–”

“No,” he dusted his suit off, “I’m–I’m walking away.”

“Uh-huh,” you biot back a smile, feeling Spencer slide up next to you, “and what was that all about?” He kept his inquisitive gaze on your boss.

“Hotch had a date,” you stated, turning to look at him, “I’m babysitting Jack.”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded–but when Penelope called you to the roundtable room and you began to walk away with her, you could hear him mutter, “Why didn’t he ask me?”

JJ rushed in, she apologized for being late as she took her seat. The team watched her; she was flushed, but her face showed clear urgency. She rolled her eyes, “Please do not question me today, I already have enough explaining to do.”

It was silent, but then you just couldn’t help yourself, “...JJ?” She looked at you with a slight warning, but you still asked, “What happened?”

The air in the room evaporated as JJ sucked in a breath, then deflated against her chair, throwing her head back, “Henry’s babysitter quit this morning.” You kept quiet, waiting for her to elaborate. “Will and I were going to go out tonight, we’ve been planning this for weeks now.” she huffs, running a hand through her hair.

Spencer caught your eyes, and though you shook your head, knowing it’d be a bad idea, he still said, “Well, hey, you know I could watch him for you–if you still wanted to go.”

JJ raised a brow and began to shake her head slowly, “I don’t know, Spence–”

“I wouldn’t be alone,” you noted Hotch raising an eyebrow as Spencer motioned toward you, “— is watching Jack, we could babysit them together.”

JJ glanced at you, then at Hotch–hopeful, “Would you both be okay with that?”

Hotch eyes Spencer’s grin for a moment, “Fine, but — has to keep an eye on Reid too.”

“Uh–what?” Spencer threw his arms up, “I’m a great babysitter–are you laughing?” He glared slightly at Morgan.

“Sure you are,” you reached over and patted the top of his hand, you held his gaze for a split second–the both of you trying to hold in your laughter.

You could hear giggling inside. Jack clung to Hotch, he was eight, and yet he still adored his father. The night was young, but starting to grow darker. Today, you had only been called to air a case, so you worked from the office, which you didn’t have the pleasure of doing most days, making it pretty unique.

“Oh, hey guys,” Spencer called, walking up behind you. You frowned, noting his relaxed attire.

“And I didn’t think you owned anything but sweater vests.”

He sighed, “Oh–you just had to comment.”

“That I did,” you nodded, “that I did.”

The front door opened right as Hotch checked his wristwatch, “you guys made it!”

“Would you believe it? Hotch hasn’t canceled yet.”

Your boss glared at you, but your remark earned chuckles from the others, “Yep, and I’ll be late if I don’t leave now.”

JJ stepped out of the house and moved aside, “come on in.” Henry popped his little head out from behind Will and motioned for Jack to follow.

Hotch leaned to the side, eyes only leaving Jack once the boys disappeared behind a corner. “Okay,” JJ approached you, hands on your shoulders, “I am trusting you.”

“Hey–uhm Hi!” Spencer waved, sticking his head over your shoulder, “I’m here too.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m telling her to be careful.”

After a bit of teasing Spencer, Hotch, Will, and JJ left in their cars. “Come, on, it’s freezing out here,” you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your zip-up.

“Let the night begin…”

Spencer stayed, feet glued to the floor for a moment as he watched you wander into the house. He couldn’t help the small smile that grazed his face; he covered it with a hand, closing the door behind him.

Inside you were asking the boys what they wanted to do. Hotch had picked you up from your apartment and you, him, and Jack drove over together–so when Henry suggested the movie theatre, you could only glance at Spencer, wondering if he’d be willing to drive.

He huffed, rolled his eyes, and fell back on the couch in the living room. “We can see what movies are playing, I guess.”

You huffed a laugh and gripped the couch with both hands as you learned over it, watching Jack and Hnery jump on top of Spencer.

“Okay, okay.” He pushed Henry’s foot out of his face and shot you a look when he heard you cover up a snort with a cough.

Upon scrolling through the nearest movie theatre, you found the newest Spider-Man movie was playing, but you had already missed the 7 o’clock one and the next showing was at 8:30. You, Spencer, and the boys agreed to that time, which left you about an hour before you had to leave. Spencer offered to pay and though you had debated with him about going half–he insisted.

You agreed, but only if he let you pay for the snacks. Spencer wasn’t a boyfriend and he wasn’t one of the girls, so it felt weird letting him pay for everything. He was older than you yes, but only by a couple of years, and though you had to remind him of that several times, he never once failed to pull that card over on you.

“What’s that?” Spencer motioned toward the bag you had brought–that you were now unloading on the kitchen counter.

“Ingredients,” you shrugged, “it isn’t real babysitting if you don’t bake something.”

“You bake?” He sat up, throwing something on the television to distract the boys before he made his way toward you.

You brushed it off, “Somewhat.”

“Okay,” he nodded, rounding the counter and meeting your hip with his, “so what are we baking tonight?”

“We?” You raised a brow. He nodded, lips forming a thin line to suppress a grin. “Oh, no,” you huffed a laugh, “we are not–do you even know kitchen etiquette?”

His face scrunched up, “I’m a quick learner.”

“Sarcastic Spencer never fails to amuse me.”

“Mmm,” he nodded, “what’s first?”

You shook your head, a grin escaping you. You snatched the butter he had picked up and smacked him on the shoulder as you went to go find a bow for it, “Wash your hands.” 

“Something smells good.” Jack rounded the counter.

“That would be the cookies.” You spun around and bent to your knees, pulling the oven open. 

“When’s the movie?” Henry came waddling in, Spencer not too far behind.

You glanced at him, expecting him to answer for the both of you. You smiled to yourself, pulling off the oven mitts when he said, “uh…we have about five more minutes before we should leave.”

You nodded and began searching for a container to put the cookies in, “boys, do you wanna go outside and help Uncle Spencer start the car?”

“Awesome!” Henry shouted, running off to find his coat.

“Can we really start the car?” Jack looked between you and Spencer.

“Of course,” you smiled, nodding.

“Cool,” he too ran off.

“If either of them wrecks my car, I’m holding you responsible.” He jabbed a warning finger in your direction.

You scoffed, wiping your hands on a rag, “right. Spencer, you drive a van.”

“An SUV,” he corrected.

“Yeah, well, you don’t seem the type to care about messing things up.”

He held a hand to his chest, mock hurt flashing across his face, “–and what is that supposed to mean.”

You shrugged, but a cheeky smile pulled your lips upward.

“I’ll see you in the car,” he wandered off in search of the boys. You grabbed three cookies and set them aside on a napkin.

When you walked toward the door, you found Spencer and the boys already secure in the car. You locked the door and made your way down the drive.

“I have something delicious,” you handed each boy a cookie, promising to help Spencer clean out his car if it turned out they made a mess.

You took the third cookie and bit into it. Spencer watched you and he pulled off, turning onto the street. He hit a red light when you were halfway done with it, “were you not going to offer to share?”

Your eyebrows shot up momentarily, “you like sweets?”

“Half you met me?” he shot back.

You huffed, yanking his hand from the steering wheel and toward you, placing the cookie into his hand. The light turned green, so he steered with one arm and used his other to eat the cookie. It was a darling sight, truly. You giggled when a few crumbs fell onto the floor.

“I blame you,” he muttered, his mouth full of cookies as he made his proclamation.

Spencer had bought the tickets online, so as you parked, you made a game plan with the boys. Spencer and Henry would go to the bathroom because he forgot to say something back at the house and you and Jack would stand in line. There were a few games around–and of course, the boys asked to play when they saw them–but you only had ten minutes till the movie began, so you promised when the movie was over, you’d stay a bit longer to play.

There were only three lines open and from what you could tell, pretty long. Jack stuffed his hands into his tiny jacket pockets–he looked comfortable. “Do you know what you want to get?”

He pressed his lips together and notably looked around at the freezers and small box-like shelves separating the lines. They were only about two inches higher than him, maybe three or four higher than Henry.

“I’ve never been here.” You frowned. Jack had never been to a movie theatre or he had never been to this theatre? 

“What do you mean?” You stepped forward as the line moved up. A father and his daughter–probably around fourteen–stepped behind you. You took notice, but only because you’ve programmed your brain, they weren’t really important.

Jack shrugged, “What kind of snacks do they have.” You understood Jack didn’t want to speak more on the subject and because you cherished him, you dropped it–but you made a mental note to speak with Hotch about it later.

“Well, I think they have…gummy bears and–oh look–they have cornetto–personally I prefer the cup version–but that’s just me.” Jack laughed and stood on his tippy toes, trying to get a better look at the ice cream flavors.

You caught Spencer walking toward you, Henry skipping a few feet in front of him. He caught your wave and nodded toward Jack, who now stepped to the side of the counter–looking through the glass. “How much time do we have?”

Spencer checked his watch once more, his casual attire contrasting. He wore his glasses–which you absolutely adored–a pair of blue jeans substituted his normal khakis, and he wore a black hoodie with red writing on the back. He wore tenashoes instead of his work shoes and his silly socks were hidden beneath the fabric of his jeans. It made you frown slightly: you couldn’t tease him about it.

“Do you want anything?” You asked as the boys began listing off candy to the cashier.

“No, I’m good.” He shook his head, stuffing his hands into the singular pocket of his hoodie.

“Wanna share a bowl of popcorn?” You pleaded and eventually, he gave in.

You asked for two smaller bowls so you could split the large bowl between you, Spencer, and the boys. Spencer physically winced when you swiped your card–you saw it happen. It sent a flutter through you and your face reddened as much as it could. You covered it up with a laugh, hoping Spencer didn’t find it weird, though the look he threw you said otherwise.

You found your seats, the boys settled in the middle of the two of you. You separated the popcorn between the boys, but then realized it’d be an issue sharing with Spencer if he was all the way on the other side, so instead, you gave him one of the smaller bowls, filled his and Hnery’s, and shared the big bowl with Jack.

You made it in time for the credits which you hated, but Spencer loved. It put a goofy smile on his face as he explained every ad,s aying how they were trying to tug at your heartstrings or logical side. “But we’re too smart, aren’t we?” He met your gaze.

The boys turned toward you, where you now adorned a serious nod, “oh, yeah, we’re way too smart to fall fo that, right boys?” 

“Yep!” they nodded triumphantly. 

“And why is that?” Spencer rounded the question back to him.

“Because we’re profilers,” Jack asked hesitantly.

“Exactly,” you jabbed a finger at him, messing with his hair a little. He laughed and leaned away, pushing your hand toward the popcorn bowl.

Spencer watched you–but not just your person. He wanted your actions, your facial expression, the way you interacted and spoke to Jack, the way you joked with Henry, the way you took every opportunity you could to tease him about absolutely anything. 

He felt his heart tense and then fall to his stomach once he realized what was occurring. Was he falling in love? Was this what that feeling was? Was this how falling in love happened? You noticed minuscule, insignificant things about a person like the way they laughed? Or the way smiled? You analyzed them so thoroughly that you could tell what they would say before they said it. Or know the action they’re about to take before they make it?

He couldn’t tell. Spencer had never been in love before. He had never fallen in love. But was that what this was? He didn’t have a definitive answer, he just knew he wanted to be closer. To you. To you in every way. He wanted you to want to be close to him and he wondered if that was love.

Because if it was, wouldn’t that mean he’d already fallen? But it didn’t feel right.  It felt…like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Like he had been searching for an answer he knew was somewhere in his brain, but hadn’t figured it out until just now.

The movie played and he tried his best to watch it–he grasped the general concept, but he was more focused on, well, you.

Did he love you? Could he say that with genuine confidence? He wouldn’t know until he tried it out, but he couldn’t. Because what if he didn’t? What if what he felt for you was simply pure friendship–he’d be making a crucial mistake, one) if you didn’t like him you’d be weirded out and if you did he chanced hurting you, two) you worked together, that was an issue in and of itself.

He jumped when you stood, watching as you stretched. “What?” You raised a brow, a tired smile forming you mouth.

He found himself smiling back, his stomach flipping, “nothing. Just…tired.”

“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes, yawning, “me too. We should head back now, it’s pretty late. We need to take them baths.”

“Yeah,” Spencer glanced at Jack, who was now standing, and Henry, who was fast asleep in his seat.

Spencer tried waking him slightly, but he wasn’t budging, “just carry him,” you suggested.

Deciding it was the only option, Spencer gripped Henry’s armpits and heaved him upward as gently as he could. You watched him as he laid Hnery’s head on his shoulder, the boy snuggling into the crook of his neck, hugging your coworker tightly. 

“Awww,” you sounded like Penelope but you didn’t care, this was too cute a moment not to capture. Whipping out your phone, you ignored Spencer’s pleas and snapped multiple photos from every angle.

Heading to the lobby of the theatre, you nudged Jack, “I’m guessing you don’t want to play some of the games anymore?”

Jack shook his head and rubbed his eyes, “no. m’just tired.”

You nodded, pulling him into your side as you walked, “Me too, buddy, me too.”

You passed an elderly couple on the way out, Henry slightly waking up when the cold air hit his face. “Are we home?” He asked.

The elderly couple snickered and said, “You’re a cute family.”

You opened your mouth to correct the woman, but her husband added, “You look just like we did, don’t they?” before you could. He turned to his wife, made clear by the matching rings.

“Oh, they do,” then she bent over and asked Jack, “What movie did your mommy and daddy take you to see.”

Instead of correcting the couple, Jack glanced at you, then Spencer, and grinned–though it was sleepy– “Spider-Man 2.”

“Ah, I’m afraid I haven’t seen that one, is it good?”

“Really good,” Henry answered from Spencer’s arms.

They laughed again, then apologized for keeping you and made their way inside.

You and Spencer said nothing as you made your way to the car. Jack and Henry were silent as well. You wondered just what was going through Jack’s head. Maybe he was too tired to understand or care about the women’s words. Yeah, that must have been it.

You decided you would ignore it just as you would ignore the flutter that continuously courced through you the entirety of the night.

With much prodding, you were able to get Henry into the bath. Jack didn’t take much convincing, but he assured you he could do it himself, which you shouldn’t have believed because he ended up getting shampoo into his eyes.

Spencer finished helping him, though it was hard because Jack insisted on showering. Eventually, the two boys were tucked into Henry’s twin-sized bed, and you and Spencer had a little free time before the others arrived.

You grabbed the bowl of cookies that you’d tucked on the counter near the fridge before you’d left. You meant to eat them at the kitchen counter, but Spencer wanted you to watch some movie he had put on. You would blame and hold him responsible for any crumbs that didn’t land in the bowl.

His chuckle was low and light, just like every other time you found yourself making him laugh. It sent a flutter through your chest and you had to turn away to keep from letting him know just how flustered that one sound could make you.

You shivered, you typically brought a sweater with you everywhere just in case, but you were going to JJ’s house, and you knew she’d let you borrow a few blankets. 

“Where are you going?” Spencer caught your wrist as you stood. Your heart jolted and you couldn’t help but stare at it. You blinked a few times before he let go. He sucked in a breath as if you’d stung him. You weren’t sure what he meant by that or if he meant anything at all by it. Spencer was normally an awkward person, but this didn’t feel like something he’d be awkward about, in fact, Spencer would never be put in this situation simply because Spencer hated physical contact.

Maybe that’s why he had such a reaction. You brushed it off, letting a shy smile replace the longing frown, “Just the hall closet to find a blanket…want one?”

Spencer shook his head and wanting to escape the atmosphere, you bottled toward the hall. You retrieved the first blanket on top. It was white with little blue bunnies. Cute. You thought, it must be Henry’s. 

“I’m back,” you hopped on the couch, keeping a cushion between the two of you, for fear of making him uncomfortable.

He declined your offer of a cookie and opted to lean back. It might have just been your imagination, but you were sure Spencer kept sneaking glances at you. You thought he must be bored, he’d put on a '90s romcom. Though you loved the, you were surprised when Spencer put it on. But then maybe he put it on for you and that’s why he kept glancing at you.

You huffed under a cookie, that’s so like him. 

Halfway through the movie, you’d discarded the bowl of cookies with four left and began to feel the lights dim. Or maybe it was just you. You took a moment and laid your head back but it was uncomfortable. As you shifted on the couch, a yawn escaped you. 

Spencer caught it, attention now fully focused on you, he smiled at your dreary state. He moved one leg under him and without really thinking much about it–if it’d make you uneasy or not–he took you by the shoulders and lowered your head into his lap. You noticed, but barely. He pulled the blanket over you as your arms wrapped around his thigh. Your head snuggled into him and when a satisfactory hmm released itself from your throat, he snorted a little. 

He loved you, or at least he thought he did. Spencer had never loved anyone. Well, he loved his mom, but he knew he was programmed that way. He loved quantum physics and math and chemistry and psychology, but those were very broad terms, and still not a being. He liked cats, but he couldn’t love a cat–well, he could–but that was a different discussion.

You, on the other hand, he always wanted to be around. You, on the other hand, he always wanted to talk to. You, he fell asleep thinking about; you, he dreamt about; you, he woke up to.

You were always on his mind, there was no way around it. In every conversation–though he rarely voiced it–he could always draw back to you. Penelope bought a new pink fluffy pen? You loved pens. Dereck couldn’t sleep at night because of his neighbor. You could sleep anywhere–it was a skill. Spencer couldn’t sleep at all, really, and when he did–well, he’d already know what he’d dream about.

He couldn’t escape you–but well, he didn’t want to.

The biggest evidence of his feelings for you? He hated–absolutely loathed–the thought of you talking to/dating/marrying anywhere else. He made a face, the thought disgusted him;; it made him sick.

The front door unlocking jolted him out of his thoughts… how long had he sat there watching you? Going back and forth in is mind? His mind began wondering and the lights began to fade. His shoulder drooped and he began pushing you backward, fixing you until you were both comfortable. 

“Just for…a bit…” he yawned before the lights went out.

Spencer jerked when he heard the front door unlock. He was always keenly aware of his surroundings–it was a bad habit he picked up in his years at the BAU.

JJ and Will stepped through the door as quietly as they could, the credits were rolling. The movie must have just ended. 48 minutes?

“Hey–” JJ whispered walking toward him.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up, but was weighed down, and upon looking–found you still sound asleep. He smiled, but when he realized JJ could see him, he fixed it to a plain expression.

Spencer held up a hand and pressed a finger to his lips, his eyes widened slightly in concern when he looked down at you. Which was ridiculous, he couldn’t stay in this position the entire night, much less on JJ’s couch. You both had work in the morning and you needed to get home. Right…but where was Hotch? How would you get home?

He was startled by your shifting movements. Upon glancing at you again, he found you stirring. JJ covered up a small laugh, and turned back to Will, shushing him as he stalked over.

“Hotch texted, he should be here soon,” JJ whispered.

Spencer nodded as you lifted your head, he raised his arms just enough for you to have free reign, if you pushed out of his hold, he’d have no choice but to let go.

But you didn’t, you pulled him closer and buried your face into where his thigh met his hip. “Five more minutes.”

JJ snatched her phone from her pocket and began snickering, “Penelope is going to love this.”

“Hey–come on, JJ–don’t–” Spencer’s protests went ignored as JJ clicked a few photos and slipped her phone back into the back pocket of her jeans.

A knock sounded on the door not a moment later, Will went to open it while JJ sat on the arm of the couch and smiled down at her two coworkers. “Do you think she can hear us?”

Spencer opened his mouth to say no, but raised a brow and glanced at you questioningly, he wasn’t sure you knew where you were, let alone could make sense of a complete sentence. “I’m gonna go with probably not.”

They chuckled to themselves. Hotch waved, before following Will down the hall toward Henry’s room. You yawned and rolled onto your back, stretching over Spencer. “Hi,” you blinked up, a slow smile turning up your lips.

He met your sleepy gaze with one of his own, “hi,” he answered.

Hotch came back out with a very asleep Jack, calling out your name, You sighed, forcing yourself upward. “Guess I better go.”

Once again, Spencer felt his subconscious take hold of his body as he held an arm across your stomach, “I could take you…I mean I wouldn’t mind, besides,” he nodded toward Hotch and Jack, “he should get Jack home.”

JJ watched in silent awe. It was one thing for Spencer to shake hands with someone let alone hug them, so when she stepped through her doors and found you snuggled up to him, her suspicion-radar was going off. Spencer definitely had a thing for you, or at the very least felt most comfortable with you. In her mind, you were his person, and that didn’t have to be romantic, it was just how it was.

Now, though, watching his eyes, there was no doubt in her mind. Spencer Reid was in love. She wondered what kind of catastrophic event occurred for this to happen.

“You sure?” You murmured, rubbing your eyes. You were halfway leaning against his chest, and halfway using his shoulder to stay steady.

“Yeah, of course.”

Hotch seemed to get the gist of the conversation, whispered a few goodbyes, and headed out the door.

“You made cookies,” JJa noted.

“Yep, there’s four left, but they’re probably all stale now.”

“Well, maybe you two can babysit again and make me fresh ones.”

“I helped, you know,” Spencer added.

“Yeah, ‘helped’ so much I almost had to buy you a new pan.” After a good laugh, you stood and stretched, catching Spencer’s yawn, “well, it’s getting pretty late, we should head out.”

“Alright then, drive safe.”

“I’m always a safe driver.”

“I know you are, Spence.” She pressed her lips together, glancing at you, wondering if you even felt a smidgen of what Spencer felt for you.

The car ride was smooth, Spencer had been over a few times, and with his memory, he knew the way by heart. “Thanks for doing this.” You grabbed his hand as he pulled into your complex.

Spencer jolted, his head jerked down: his focus on where your hands connected. “Oh–sorry, I forgot–”

You snatched your hand away, but Spencer was quick to grab it back. “No–no it’s…” he stared at you. He could lose his mind and still be able to put a name to your eyes. They were like none he’d ever seen–which is opinionated, of course, in his mind, you were all there ever was. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” You frowned, “I…know how you hate people touching you.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged sheepishly, “but when it’s you it’s okay.”

Your heart leaped at that and maybe it was because you were half-awake and when you were half-wake you became even more delusional than you were daily. “So, you don’t mind if I touch you?”

“No, not at all.” He replied immediately as if he had been programmed to.

You couldn’t help the goofy grin that made its way onto your face, “good to know.”

You opened the car door and started exiting his vehicle. “Hey, —?”

“Yeah?” You yawned again, the sky a blue-black kind of color.

“What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?” You frowned.

“You know,” he tried motioning with his hands, which only made you snort.

“Nope,” you shook your head, “no idea.” You spun around, starting the path to your apartment, “see you tomorrow, Spencer.”

Spencer frowned, he knew he would think about this the rest of the night, if he could sleep he’d probably dream about it, and when he woke up, it would most definitely be the first thing on his mind.

a/n: lol i've been working on this forever (like a month) and i cried in my maths a few days ago because i couldn't understand it–#mathisnotforme

@darkmatilda @theylovemelody

[sororygilmore]

i got so comfortable with him why did i let him in i should’ve figured

[scoupsakakitty]

Can I request a

Clingy/affectionate 14th member reader who got scolded by management for not being "professional", so reader has to maintain some distance and try to not be as affectionate/clingy to the members.

Distance Hurts | Seventeen x 14th Member | angst, fluff

Y/N had always been the affectionate one in Seventeen. Hugs, playful touches, leaning on shoulders it came so naturally to her. The members never seemed to mind; in fact, they encouraged it, often teasing her for being “too clingy” while secretly appreciating her warmth. She was like the glue that held them all together, always making sure no one felt left out.

But today, things were different.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” the manager said, his tone serious as he gestured for her to sit in the small meeting room.

She sat down nervously, her hands fiddling with the hem of her hoodie. “Did I do something wrong?”

The manager sighed, glancing at a folder of reports in his hands. “It’s not about doing something ‘wrong,’ but we’ve received feedback that your behavior with the members might seem… unprofessional. You’re part of Seventeen, a top-tier group. Being too touchy or playful could affect your image and the group’s reputation.”

Her stomach dropped. She blinked at him, unsure of what to say.

“I’m not saying you can’t be close with the members,” he continued. “But tone it down. Fans are watching, and they notice everything. Maintain some boundaries. This is about professionalism.”

Y/N nodded stiffly, biting her lip. “Understood.”————————————————————————————-From that day on, Y/N tried her best to keep her distance. It was harder than she thought. During practice, when Hoshi threw an arm around her shoulders, she gently shrugged it off with a polite smile. When Seungkwan jokingly asked for a hug after nailing a high note, she only offered him a quiet thumbs-up. And when Mingyu tripped and instinctively reached for her arm, she stepped back, pretending not to notice.

The members were quick to notice the shift.

“What’s up with Y/N lately?” Jeonghan asked one afternoon as they lounged in the waiting room before a shoot. “She’s been… different.”

“She doesn’t even cling to me anymore,” Mingyu complained, pouting dramatically. “I used to be her favorite!”

“She hasn’t hugged me all week,” Seungkwan chimed in, crossing his arms. “It’s weird. Did we do something wrong?”

Seungcheol shook his head, his brows furrowed in thought. “Something’s off. I’ll talk to her.”

That evening, after their schedule wrapped up, Seungcheol found Y/N sitting alone in the corner of the practice room. She was staring at her phone, her face unreadable.

“Hey,” he said gently, sitting down beside her. “You’ve been quiet lately.”

Y/N hesitated, then sighed. “I didn’t mean to make anyone worry. I’m just… trying to follow management’s advice.”

Seungcheol tilted his head. “What advice?”

“They told me I need to be more professional,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “That being too clingy with you guys could hurt the group’s image. I don’t want to cause problems, so I’ve been trying to keep my distance.”

Seungcheol’s expression softened as he listened. “Y/N, you’re not a problem. You’re family. You’ve never crossed any lines with us, and we’ve never felt uncomfortable with how you act. If anything, your affection keeps us grounded.”

“But what about the fans? And the group’s image?”

He smiled faintly. “Fans love us for who we are our genuine bond, our closeness. And part of that is you. If anyone has an issue with it, that’s on them, not you.”

As if on cue, the door to the practice room burst open, and the other members poured in.

“Are you hiding from us?” Vernon teased, crossing his arms.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Joshua added, his tone kind.

Before Y/N could respond, Seungkwan flopped dramatically onto the floor in front of her. “Why are you avoiding me, Y/N? Am I not lovable anymore?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics, her heart warming despite herself. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“You’ve barely touched any of us in days,” Mingyu said, crouching down to her level. “What’s going on?”

Seungcheol glanced at Y/N, silently encouraging her to speak. She hesitated but decided to be honest.

“Management told me I needed to tone it down,” she said quietly. “That being too affectionate might hurt the group.”

For a moment, the room was silent. Then, Hoshi spoke up, his voice firm. “That’s ridiculous! You’re our Sister.”

“You’re part of this family Y/N we literally grew up together,” Jeonghan added. “The way you are with us doesn’t need to change.”

“Yeah,” Woozi said from the back, his tone blunt but sincere. “Don’t let anyone tell you to stop being yourself.”

The overwhelming support made tears well up in Y/N’s eyes. She tried to blink them away, but DK noticed immediately. “Group hug!” he declared, pulling her into his arms.

One by one, the rest of the members joined in, squishing Y/N between them in a giant embrace.

“See?” Seungcheol said with a smile. “This is who we are. Don’t ever feel like you have to change that.”

She hugged them back tightly, her heart full.

Maybe management didn’t understand, but she didn’t care. Seventeen was her family, and nothing could change that.

————————————————————————————-

[justauthoring]

jerk [2].

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.

a/n: the LARGELY requested part two! honestly, i'd be willing to write more parts if people wanted :) this part ended up being more about the girls and y/ns friendship but i couldn't help myself - if you guys want some fluff with bakugou for future parts, just let me know!

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

part one. part three.

“You’re hiding something from us.”

There’s a beat of silence, then another, then another and when finally, you realize you should say something, you blink, sputtering out a barely believable; “no i’m not.”

Mina and Jirou glance at each other, then behind them at the rest of the girls, and you feel a layer of sweat build up when you realize all of your female classmates are here, surrounding you, demanding an answer. And you’ve never really been all that good at lying before, it’s how Bakugou was able to figure out the whole “i’m your soulmate thing” rather quickly and it had only taken him as long as it had because, well, it was Bakugou.

So, to put it bluntly, you’re screwed.

“Come on, Y/N,” Mina laughs, “that wasn’t even remotely believable.”

You know it’s written across your face, your eyes wide and your lips parted and you’re sure you look like quite the picture in that moment surrounded by every single female student in your class, a group of girls you considered your friends but were feeling considerably more like your interrogators in that moment. 

But you have to at least try.

“I’m not hiding anything,” you repeat, this time taking special care to make sure your voice is even and somewhat believable. “I’m just… tired. It’s been throwing my balance off. Sorry guys.”

You really are because you have been weird recently and you were hiding things (even if you were desperate for them not to know that) so the sincerity was there and it seems to be enough because they all glance at each other, frowning, and you can literally see the determination fade as Momo speaks up first.

“You have been leaving to train a lot,” she agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s no wonder you’re so tired. But you should still try to get some rest, don’t push yourself so hard.”

You let out a breath of relief, trying not to let it show as some of the girls shuffle back to walk away, until—

“Wait, that reminds me!”

It’s Jirou who calls it out and you feel yourself freeze.

“She hasn’t been training!”

Eyes widening, you turn to look at Jirou. She’s grinning your way, her figure pointed in your direction, clearly pleased she’d caught you in your lie.

“Jirou,” Uraraka calls out, confused. “What are you–”

“Two nights ago when she left to go training, I followed her, thinking we could train together… she wasn’t there.”

They gasp. Literally gasp.

“Now that you mention it,” Froppy nods, finger held to her chin in thought. “I haven’t actually seen her in the gym very often… nor does she look particularly like a person who’s just trained when she comes back.”

Their eyes fall on you and you take a step back.

“Y/N—”

And then you just run.

-

“I can’t believe she just ran!”

“I know!”

“Guys, I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“Who?”

Mina’s lips are left parted at the sound of Kirishima’s voice, all the girls turning to face him in the living room where he’s sat with the rest of the class.

“Y/N,” Mina explains with a huff, falling into the couch dramatically. “She’s been ditching us constantly and always leaving right after we return from class with some excuse. When we tried to ask her about it today, she lied and then when we caught on to her lie, she ran! Literally just bolting down the hallway before we could even blink.”

Kirishima frowns, glancing over to Denki on his left.

“That doesn’t sound like Y/N,” Deku calls out from across the room, head tilted in curiosity. “Especially to lie to you guys.”

“I know!” Mina calls out, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 

“Like I said,” Uraraka speaks up, trying to remain calm. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Maybe something’s wrong…”

“You think she could be in danger?” Shoto asks, quirking a brow. 

Uraraka shrugs; “I don’t know… I hope not.”

Everyone falls silent, worried expressions plastered on their faces.

“Wait, Kirishima… bro.” Denki calls, reaching to shake Kirishima aggressively, to which the red-haired boy swats his hands away, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Hasn’t Bakubro been disappearing a lot too?”

All the girls straighten out.

Kirishima just shakes his head; “Bakugou is always disappearing. You know he doesn’t like hanging with us a lot.”

“No, Denki’s right,” Sero nods, “even if he isn’t hanging with us, he’s usually in his room or in the gym. Recently, he just completely disappears.”

“I guess you’re right…” Kirishima frowns.

“Wait,” Jirou calls out, “what are you saying? That Bakugou is disappearing with Y/N?”

“That’s crazy,” Mina brushes off. “I’ve never even seen the two talk to each other unless they’re forced to–wait.”

Everyone's eyes snap to hers, wide.

“What?”

“You don’t think… no. It’s not possible.”

“Oh my god,” Denki cries out suddenly, leaning forward with a manic look in his eyes. “Bakubro is hurting Y/N!”

“Wait–”

“No way!” Kirishima calls out, turning to Denki. “Bakugou is a lot of things, but he would never hurt somebody intentionally. Especially not a girl. That’s not manly. Right, Midoriya?”

“Right,” Deku nods confidently, before pausing; “I think?”

“Hey!”

“Guys, no!” Mina cuts in, shaking her hands widely before her. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay…” Momo nods, “then what?”

She leans in, pausing for dramatic effect. “He could be… her soulmate!”

There’s silence, then, “no way.”

Mina’s face falls; “why not?”

“Bakugou? Having a soulmate?” Jirou snorts, “I doubt that.”

“Everybody has one!”

“Okay, the odds of him actually caring about his soulmate are slim to none,” Froppy offers in response.

“Yeah,” Deku nods, “I've never once seen Kacchan show interest in his soulmate like… ever.”

Kirishima shakes his head; “even I have to admit that’s so not manly.”

Everyone shuffles around agreements but Mina is quick to argue; “have any of you guys ever seen Bakugou’s soulmate mark?” Slowly, one by one, all glancing at each other, the guys shake their heads. Mina then turns to the girls. “Okay, have any of you ever seen Y/N’s? Cause she’s never shown or told me.”

The girls all shake their heads.

“So how can you really know?” Mina raises a brow, “I mean, Y/N is always so secretive about her mark. She refuses to tell me.”

-

“Bakugou, we have—”

“Katsuki.”

Coming to a sharp halt, lips left parted, you blink up at Bakugou.

With a grin, Bakugou gently shuts your mouth with a hand to your jaw, laughing lightly; “say Katsuki. That’s my name.”

You can feel your cheeks warm, profusely, and a burst of heat flood through you as you pull yourself from his touch, avoiding his gaze. “Katsuki,” you oblige with a huff and a pout. “We have a problem.”

“Yes?” Bakugou asks, raising a brow your way as he lowers the weight’s he’d been lifting.

“The girls are onto us!”

Bakugou just stares down at you. “What does that mean?”

Exasperated at his obliviousness, you huff, stretching your hands out before you for emphasis as you stare up at him, wide-eyed. “They know I’ve been disappearing after class a lot. I tried to tell them I was training, which I guess we usually are but Jirou caught on to that being a lie too and now they’re onto us!”

Bakugou just blinks. “But what do you mean onto us?”

You let out a cry; “Katsuki! They’re gonna know we’re soulmates!”

“So?”

Pressing a hand to your face, you can’t believe your situation. Not only were the girls onto you, they knew you were lying, which made you feel awful and if they found out that you’d been spending all your time with Bakugou… well that was bound to bring up more questions. Questions you wouldn’t be able to avoid. Questions that would ultimately lead to them finding out Bakugou was your soulmate.

A hand gently reaches for your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as Bakugou crouches to meet your eyes directly. 

“Why is it such a big deal?” He asks gently, an odd tone that you’re still not used to hearing from Bakugou yet. His face remains neutral but there’s patience lingering in his eyes as he waits for you to explain why you’re so upset.

And you do. Your lips part and the words are at the tip of your tongue until, suddenly, you can’t say anything.

Nothing leaves your lips.

“Y/N?”

“I…—”

“You don’t want them to know?”

Blinking, you bite your lip. “It’s not that, it’s just…” But again, you can’t find the words.

“You don’t trust them?”

“Of course I do,” you argue instantly, “they’re my best friends.”

“Okay…” he says slowly, and then his face twists, “are you… embarrassed of me?”

Meeting his gaze, you frown. “...No,” you whisper, and you mean the words.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I…” Shoulders falling, you frown. “Nothing… I guess.”

“So,” he says, “let them find out!”

Sputtering, you lean back; “it’s not like you’ve told Kirishima or any of the other guys!”

“It’s none of their business,” Bakugou shrugs, letting go of your wrists to set his hand on your head. “But if it makes you feel better, I'll tell them.”

You find yourself silent with disbelief once again, Bakugou’s words echoing in your mind paired with the look in his eyes. Just staring down at you.

Looking at you.

Like you’re his whole world.

-

“I’m sorry.”

They blink at you.

“I’m sorry about running away yesterday.”

Another blink.

“And I'm sorry I’ve been lying to you guys for the past few weeks.”

Slowly, all the girls glance at each other, trying to gauge the situation, before Uraraka is the first to speak up.

“It’s okay,” she assures with a smile, setting her hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We appreciate you apologizing. We were just worried.”

“We wanna make sure you’re okay,” Jirou adds, smiling shyly at you. 

You take a look at all of their faces, seeing the sincerity staring back at you, before settling on Mina who still has a hint of hurt in her eyes but there’s also hope.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Bakugou’s my soulmate.”

Silence echoes, once again, before.

“What?”

“I knew it!”

“Bakugou!?”

There’s a mix of words, gasps of disbelief and shouts of question thrown out at you as all the girls rush towards you, swarming you, desperate for answers.

You laugh a little at their reaction, and that catches their attention.

“Y/N?” Mina asks, confused.

“I’ve been sneaking off to see him,” you explain to her, meeting her gaze, before letting your gaze drift. “I didn’t say anything because I’m still adjusting to it myself and I still don’t know how to feel about it. But I realized it isn’t fair to lie to you guys like that and that I want you guys to know because you matter so much to me.”

“Y/N…” Uraraka mumbles, tears welling in her eyes.

Her expression mimics many of the other girls before suddenly there’s a body slamming against your own, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you stumble back, trying to catch your footing.

“Oh. My. God!” Mina screams, you wincing at the sheer volume, as she pulls back, grinning brightly at you. “You have to tell us everything!”

-

The next morning, you’re sitting at the island in the kitchen eating breakfast, chatting to Mina, Jirou and Kirishima. The rest of the students trickle by, some making breakfast, some in the living room, all in their own conversations, until suddenly it all stops.

It takes you a moment to realize Kirishima, Mina and Jirou are no longer listening to you, head turned to their right and following their gaze, curious, you blink when you realize it’s Bakugou they’re staring at. It’s not like he’s doing anything particularly odd, nothing except for the fact that his gaze is directed on you and he’s heading straight for you and then suddenly, he’s right in front of you.

His gaze drifts from you, to your plate, back to you; “who made you that?”

“Nobody,” you say slowly, still stunned. “I made it.”

He’s grabbing the plate before you can say anything else, pressing a kiss to your forehead that has your cheeks burning before turning and making his way to the fridge.

“I’ll make you something better,” is all he says in explanation.

Your gaze slowly drifts from him to Mina and Jirou who are grinning widely at you, before there’s the shout of;

“Did Bakubro just kiss Y/N?!”

“And offer to make her breakfast!”

“Wait,” Kirishima suddenly calls after Sero and Denki, turning to Mina and Jirou, “why are two grinning!?”

“All the girls are!” Deku exclaims, pointing at Uraraka and Froppy in front of him.

“You guys knew?”

“Of course,” Mina grins, sending a wink Kirishima’s way before shrugging. “Isn’t that right, Bakugou? You and Y/N are soulmates!”

Everyone expects him to ignore her or tell her to shut up, but instead, he pauses in what he’d been doing (cracking an egg for you), turning his head over his shoulders to meet your gaze before smirking. 

“That’s right.”

And chaos follows.

Utter and complete chaos.

[pathologicalreid]

could you write fem!BAU!reader x spencer, where reader finds out she’s pregnant while they’re on a case, like maybe she takes a test when she’s at the hotel and spencer hasn’t come back yet

(lack of) convenience | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader category: fluff content warnings: pregnancy, nausea, vomiting, spencer reid is unfortunately perfect. vertigo. fun pregnancy symptoms. word count: 2.04k a/n: and so, the spencer reid dilf agenda continues. this is my legacy.

It came over you just after Spencer and Rossi had left to investigate a lead. This case was going nowhere fast, and the morale in the FBI field office clearly displayed it. “Are you alright?” JJ asked from right next to you, blonde hair curtaining around her face.

You nodded tightly, enough to show the newly minted profiler that you were, in fact, not alright. Nonetheless, you were motivated to push through. People were being murdered, you could brave a little vertigo to bring their killer to justice, right?

“Hey, you look a little pale,” Emily said, walking into the conference room with Hotch trailing close behind her. “Are you feeling okay?”

Rolling your eyes dramatically, you huffed at both of your coworkers. “I’m fine,” you insisted while your head was spinning. You lowered yourself down into an office chair, hoping that being sedentary would prevent your dinner from coming up.

Emily looked over at Hotch before saying, “Maybe you should head back to the hotel, it’s been a long day for all of us.”

Furrowing your brow, you frowned at your colleague. “I’ll make it through, we have work to do,” you insisted, flipping open a file as your stomach churned.

“You’re no help to anyone if you’re sick,” Hotch told you authoritatively, and you knew from his tone that he was going to send you back to the hotel. “Get some rest, we’ll start taking breaks in shifts,” he instructed, turning back to the evidence board.

It didn’t feel like shifts, especially considering you were the only one being cast off. You mumbled an acknowledgment while you stuffed your things in your bag. JJ offered to drive you, so the two of you exited the field office.

The two of you spent most of the ride in silence, just the fuzz of the SUV’s radio as background noise while you tried not to hurl in the government vehicle.

Once you were in the hotel parking lot, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get your bearings before heading inside. “You know, I used to get sick in the evening when I was pregnant with Henry,” she said offhandedly.

It felt like a pointed comment, even if she didn’t mean it like that. You started fishing in your pocket for your room card, “But I’m not pregnant.”

“Are things good with you and Spencer?” She asked, looking for details on your relationship like an older sister. JJ killed the engine before turning to face you.

Sighing, you looked at her, “Things are great with Spencer.” You wanted to scold her for prying, but you knew it was an occupational hazard. It had been seven months, and all you had been telling anyone was “great” or “nice.”

The both of you knew that the more details you gave them, the more they’d want to pry. Penelope especially. “You know he wants kids, right?” She pushed.

You frowned at her, “Jennifer.” She put her hands up in surrender as you hauled yourself out of the SUV, “I just want to go to sleep, I feel awful.” That much was true, as you stood up outside the car, your stomach started to roil again.

“I’ll check in on you later,” she said, recognizing that she had begun to pry. “Let me know if you need anything,” she urged you, the mom in her coming into play.

Nodding, you shut the door before poking your head in the open window, “Thanks, JJ.” You said, turning around and walking to your hotel room.

Luckily, the team was already checked in, so you didn’t need to waste time trying to explain the whole ‘I’m an FBI agent’ thing to the front desk. Once you got into your room, you immediately dropped to your knees in front of the toilet, eyes burning as you upchucked into the toilet.

While you were digging through your go-bag for your toothbrush, you found yourself thinking about what JJ had said to you in the car. You couldn’t be pregnant. Well, you supposed you very well could be pregnant.

Sighing, you returned to the bathroom and started brushing your teeth, having needed to take the toothpaste out of Spencer’s bag. You made a mental note to buy more for your bag – you had been using his for the last four cases.

You silently cursed JJ for planting the thought of a baby in your head as you stared out the hotel window to a convenience store on the corner. At the very least, you could get some saltines and a Gatorade. At the very most, you could get a test.

Begrudgingly, you changed into more comfortable clothes and walked across the street to the convenience store. Grabbing a sleeve of crackers and a drink before stopping in the family planning section.

Why were there so many options?

Not wanting to draw any attention to yourself, you grabbed a digital test off of the shelf and tossed it into your basket. Your shoes squeaked on the linoleum floors as you elected to use the self-checkout, not needing to provide anyone with a front seat to your misery.

Other than the nausea, your trip back to the hotel was uneventful, and thankfully it didn’t look like anyone else on the team had made the trip to your lodging.

After you took the test, you set a timer on your phone, tossing it onto the bed before you sat on the edge of the mattress, sitting on your freshly washed hands. The timer scared you when it went off, not expecting the two minutes to go by so quickly before you returned to the bathroom.

Flipping the test over, the wind was knocked out of you as you read the results.

Yes +

You didn’t know how long you had stared at the test, but the sound of the lock on your door engaging pulled you out of your stupor. Thankfully, you had done the latch on the door, so you had a few extra minutes to toss the test in your go-bag before you went up to the door and let Spencer in.

“Hey, love,” he greeted you, dropping a kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling?” He asked caringly, someone must’ve told him you weren’t well. You hoped that was all they had told him.

Humming, you leaned into his touch for a moment before he herded you to the bed. “A bit better, but not much,” you were slightly less nauseous now, possibly because there was nothing left in your stomach. There was a dull ache in your chest though, likely a result of the information you were now aware of.

He hooked a finger under your chin and studied your features for a moment, “Were you crying?” He whispered with concern-filled eyes.

You shook your head, “I threw up.” You informed him, the lack of oxygen had caused your eyes to water – similar to a yawn. Meanwhile, your head was spinning as the words balanced precariously on your tongue, I’m pregnant.

Spencer pouted sympathetically, smoothing your hair away from your face before he felt your forehead, checking for a fever. “I’m going to take a shower,” he announced softly, “do you need anything?”

Pathetically, you gestured over to your Gatorade and saltines, silently letting him know that you were all good for the night. It was only about eight in the evening, but you were exhausted. Letting your head flop onto the pillows, you sighed before shutting your eyes.

“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer spoke up in an unfamiliar tone. “What is this?”

Crinkling your nose in frustration, you propped yourself up on your elbows, looking over at Spencer as he held up your test. Your positive pregnancy test. “Would you believe me if I told you it wasn’t mine?” Clearly, in your panic to hide the test, you had tossed the blue stick in Spencer’s bag. Your subconscious must’ve recalled that you had gotten the toothpaste out of that bag, so you thought it was yours.

Any confusion fell from his face, and in that instant, he knew exactly what was going on. “You’re pregnant?”

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, you couldn’t tell how he was feeling. “I-“ you swallowed thickly, the roiling in your stomach picking back up again. “Yes,” you answered in a small voice.

“When were you going to tell me?” He asked, there was no accusation in his voice, just pure curiosity and wonder. When you stayed silent, his eyes narrowed, “You were going to tell me, weren’t you?” He said, his volume raising from a whisper to a normal speaking level.

Pulling yourself up into a sitting position, you protectively crossed your arms in front of your stomach. “Oh my god, yes, I was going to tell you,” you clarified quickly. He didn’t seriously think you were going to hide this from him, did he?

He shook his head in confusion, “Then why hide it, angel?”

Shrugging, you thumbed the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, “I wanted time to think about it.” The admission hung in the thick tension of the hotel room.

“Okay,” he said slowly, walking over and sitting across from you on the mattress. It was clear to you that he was dealing with this situation delicately. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you about this, but I excel in thinking,” he told you.

His implications were clear to you, he wanted you to talk it out with him. “I want kids, you know I want kids. I know you want kids,” you blurted. It was something you had talked about early on in your relationship. Spencer had been very upfront with you about wanting children, he told you he needed to be with someone who also wanted that.

Spencer tilted his head to the side, “but?” He said gently, taking both of your hands in his, holding on to you.

“It’s too soon,” you whispered, feeling vulnerable on the bed with him.

He smiled at you softly, “Have I ever told you about the first time I knew that I was in love with you?”

The question left you understandably confused, “What?” You breathed, silently pleading for clarification.

Spencer nodded, “We were on a case in North Dakota, and there was this little girl who had just lost both of her parents.” The case did sound familiar, the more brutal ones involving children tended to stick with you. “We were waiting for a social worker to come stay with her, but they were stuck in a snowbank across town. Instead of working on the case, you sat down with her and taught her how to play cat’s cradle.” His voice was soft, almost placating you.

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until tears fell onto your intertwined hands, “Spence, that was years ago.”

“Two years, nine months, and thirteen days ago. I fell in love with you while watching you put a smile on her face despite the fact that it was the worst day of her life,” he said, skimming the pads of his thumbs over the backs of your hands. “I fell in love with your ability to make people feel good when the world is against them,” he murmured.

Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at him through bleary eyes, “What if we can’t protect them?”

Gathering you in his arms, Spencer let you tuck your face in the crook of his neck, “I’ll do whatever you want, Y/N. We can leave, I could be a professor and you could be a stay-at-home mom. If you want, I could stay with the BAU and you could stay home, or you can stay with the team, and I’ll stay home. Whatever you want, Y/N.”

Silently, you absorbed his words as you caught your breath, “I’m scared” you whispered.

“I know,” he murmured, “that’s okay. It’s okay to be scared.” He tightened his arms around you and rocked back and forth.

Allowing yourself to lean into him, you breathed him in, “You’re going to be such a good dad.”

He dropped a soft kiss on the crown of your head, “You’re already such a good mom.”

[aureatchi]

“I GET LOST INSIDE ALL THE STARS IN YOUR EYES, IT’S A GALAXY.” ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, nikolai, sigma

— how do the bsd men kiss you? (& other things.)

a/n. rev writes this knowing well she’s awkward w physical touch ‘n has never kissed a guy. hdjshsh.

info. fem!reader. fluff !! + a bit sugg. established relationships. kissing, making out. mentions of bsd s5ep11 spoilers for dazai. pinch of angst if you squint.

DAZAI loves to listen to you ramble. he loves listening to you pour out your mind’s lively ideas to him out loud, whether it’d be something super philosophical that could match even his intellect, or something insignificant like the tv show you were watching last night before you fell asleep, waiting for him to come home. he is fascinated by anything and everything you say—so much, he wants to shroud the part of your body that speaks with love.

Which, of course, applied when Dazai finally returned to you from Meursault, after what had seemed like himself or you trying to cross the infinite sea of time.

You ran towards Dazai, his face clear and unhidden from the full moon’s light. He stood there with the biggest smile on his face, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his neck and envelope his taller figure in your embrace, but oh, he shouldn’t assume and expect loving gestures so quickly.

Instead, he was met with a fist to his chest, a punch with quite some power packed into it. Not enough to actually hurt him, of course, but Dazai would react dramatically either way.

“O-Ow! Bella!? What was that for?”

He looked down at you, catching an emotion as intense as fire in your eyes as you met his concerned, honey-dipped ones back, realizing you were being serious. Your fist was still connected to his upper body, and he stole a quick glance to observe your state—good, she’s been taking care of herself; she hasn’t skipped her meals—before meeting your face once again.

You let him bathe in a few moments of anxious silence before you finally started shouting.

“You didn’t even warn me!”

“I had no idea where you were!”

“Do you know how scared I felt?!”

Dazai continued to stand in place, not backing away when you continued to throw feeble punches at his torso with every frustration you cried out, when tears started to fall from your eyes, and when you stopped boxing him to surrender into his chest but not holding your tongue just yet.

“You’re so stupid and insane for this one, Osamu. Prison?! And you couldn’t even get a telephone to…yknow? Call me? Talk to me? I hate y—”

“Shh.”

Dazai had cupped your face, and before you could speak anymore, he sealed his lips over yours. Immediately, you kissed him back, abandoning all anger toward him by his action.

His eyes were half-lidded as he admired how yours looked in the silver moonlight. Up close, you were encompassed in his signature smell of green tea and a hint of mint, tempting you to keep him close to you even more.

“I…missed you so much, ‘samu” you said in between kisses.

“I’ve missed you even more.” You were lifted off of your feet, legs wrapped around his waist, as Dazai continued to press his mouth onto yours. He meant what he said—he savored the feeling of your warmth on him and the taste of your lips once again after not having it for so long. And robbing you of the same bliss along with it.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll make everything up to you, love,” he whispered as your hands found their way to sift through his soft, brunette hair. “I’ll kiss you as many times as you wish.”

“I’m sure you will even when I don’t wish,” you replied as you both pulled away for air, chuckling. “You’re not sly—we both know you kiss me to shut me up.”

“And I don’t see a problem with it?” he asked, his usual smug smile returning to his face before he gently peppered your forehead next.

“No. No, I don’t either.”

CHUUYA loves to spoil you. the top mafia executive spoils you with gifts, jewelry, accessories, breakfast…lunch…dinner, you name it. he also loves to spoil you with affection. after long days at work, he is always relieved to come home to the one good and comforting person in the world.

“Welcome home, Chuuya!” you greeted as you heard the front door open, the ginger-haired entering the house.

“Whatever you’re making smells delicious, doll,” he responded in a delightful tone, probably the first time he spoke so pleasantly all day.

You smiled. “I just finished making dinner.”

He walked toward you in the kitchen, pulling you into a hug.

“What’s up?” you replied, giggling at embrace as you wrapped your arms around him in return.

“Just missed you, that’s all,” Chuuya replied. “ You’re heaven-sent, yknow.”

You felt touched by his words. “I missed you too, Chuu,” you replied. “And I’m glad you feel that way. You deserve the best, and that’s what I’m trying to be.”

“Doll, you are the best. And you deserve the best,” he responded.

“Like this.” He gently lifted the custom necklace clasped around you. It was his present for one of your anniversaries, brought from some foreign country.

“But you deserve even more than material things.” He moved hair out of your face as he looked into your eyes.

He then moved closer to your face until his lips brushed over yours, and you could feel the warmth of his face.

“Something like this,” he said and then kissed you.

Luxurious as he was, his cologne smelled the same, completely engulfing you in his world. Chuuya showed you just how much you deserved by trailing his hands down to your waist, soothingly adoring every part. Meanwhile, his cerulean eyes gazed into yours, recording how pretty you looked to save in his mind.

“You’re so beautiful, doll.”

He felt you smile against his lips. “And you’re so handsome.” You broke away and then took the hat off of Chuuya’s head.

“You’re like…the person who can pull off the fedora the best.” You placed the hat on your head, his scent even more prominent on that accessory.

“You say that, yet I think I have competition now. Y’look cute with it on too.” Chuuya smiled, approving you with his signature hat.

You placed a kiss on his cheek. “Let’s eat now before the food gets cold.”

RANPO was very high-maintenance. you had to buy him snacks, you had to give him hugs, you had to do anything in the best wishes of the world’s greatest detective or else…he’d whine. and once he started complaining, he would not back down until you gave in. yet, however childish he was, you found him cute and didn’t love ranpo any less for his call of your affection.

“Ranpo! What do you need?”

Your boyfriend had run into the bathroom where you were trying to do your makeup, currently putting lipstick on your face.

“ ‘m really hungry,” he said, obnoxiously staring at you apply the red shade to your lips.

“Hungry? Oh, the snacks are in the pantry. I thought you’d already seen them?”

“No! I don’t want them!”

“Huh?” You paused and immediately turned toward him in utter disbelief that he had just declined his favorite food.

“Are you okay, Ranpo?”

“No!” He was unanticipatedly so loud that you flinched, accidentally running the lipstick off your mouth.

“…You’re not looking for snacks?”

“No!”

“Then what do you want?!”

“You!”

There was an awkward silence, and you noticed Ranpo’s face had gone entirely the shade of your lip as he stood, pouting.

It was apparent he was embarrassed for what he just blurted out. You almost wanted to laugh.

“You could’ve just asked me!” you replied with a chuckle in your voice. “Come here.”

Ranpo trodded toward you, still visibly frustrated.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“Well, first of all, you didn’t kiss me before I left for work this morning!”

You sighed, amused that he was whining so much because of that. And how he would never directly admit what he wanted from you—always making you have to solve puzzles and guess riddles to figure him out.

But it was also incredibly endearing how Ranpo took all your affections toward him to heart, no matter how big or small they were.

“Awh, I’m sorry I missed that,” you replied. “I’ll make that up to you.”

You kissed Ranpo’s cheek, stamping a red signature on the spot. You moved to his other cheek, and then his forehead, and then everywhere in between until he was covered in your smooches.

“Look!” you turned Ranpo toward the mirror for him to see what art you’ve created on him.

“You’re forgetting one place,” he said, turning his face to look at all angles.

“Really? Where?” you asked. He surely didn’t need anymore—his whole face showed proof you touched him everywhere with your lips.

“Here stupid, duuuuh,” he responded, kissing you on the lips. He moved your back to the edge of the sink counter, and then lifted you up to sit on it.

“Hungry, are you?” you giggled as he teased you with his tongue. “I avoided that spot on purpose, stupid.”

“Who are you calling stupid, stupid?” He ran his thumb over the stain your lipstick messed up on. You could feel him smirk.

“You, stupid! It was your fault after all. And look at your face!”

“Sweetheart, if you’re calling me stupid, you are too. One, you’re just stupid, and two, you’re stupid for being with me!”

You pulled back, laughing. “If I must be stupid to be with you, then I guess I’m stupid.”

“There’s a solution! If you call me smart, it’ll make you smart.”

“Fine, Ranpo. You’re the smartest person I know in this world.”

NIKOLAI loves surprising you. he finds your sudden reactions nothing short of adorable. which is why he caught you off-guard so much, so that he could see the cute responses you made, duh? widened eyes, mini jumps, and yelps were a few things he oddly took delight in.

Which is why the jester loves to surprise you with a kiss whenever he greets you. Though, whenever he does, you receive no warning. And you never know whether he wants to give you a simple peck on the lips or a full-on makeout session. It was expected to always be unexpected.

You were walking down the hallway to your room with a basket of clean laundry when you suddenly heard the all-too-familiar cheery, charismatic voice.

“Dove being productive, hm?” he chirped.

You scanned the entire room with your eyes, but you couldn’t see Nikolai anywhere, even though there was nowhere to hide.

“Kolya?”

“Hehe…I think it’s time for a quiz time!! Where am I?

“Am I here?” You heard a swift movement to the right of you, but as you turned, nothing was there.

“Orrr, here?” Now, you felt something brush your left side, but once again, when you turned to look, you were greeted only by Casper.

“How about here?” His voice was suddenly quieter but closer, more intimate.

You felt his frame against your back.

“Kolya!” you jolted in reflex, dropping the laundry basket—not expecting Nikolai to appear right behind you—but then, he surprised you even more by turning your face to the side and crashing his lips into yours.

He was so tall that he could easily lean over you to kiss you from behind your back.

You made a muffled squeal, and in the next moment, Nikolai had you against the wall with your hands above your head.

He stared at you as if nothing else in the world mattered because he already knew the reaction he would get out of you. You felt so shy and vulnerable under his complete gaze, but Nikolai was also mean—he didn’t allow you to move an inch to save face.

He wanted to enjoy the full show.

“H-hey! You can at least blink…” you blurted out when he finally let your face go, though he immediately grabbed you again seconds after.

“Hm? What’d you say, dove?” he asked, kissing you again. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were so soft and tasted like candy—how could he not be greedy for more?

“You’re so cute, baby!” he exclaimed when he finally pulled back. You were panting—Nikolai showed no mercy when he wanted you to himself.

But you still smiled in return when he gently bopped you on the nose with his mouth, a stark contrast to what he just did.

“Ah, did I get carried away?” He only then noticed you out of breath. “Sorry, I just missed you so much!”

“It’s alright,” you replied, hugging him, the scent of strawberry cake lingering on his body. “Though, whatever happened to a hi; hello?”

“You’ll never get anything boring from me, dove,” Nikolai giggled. “That’s one thing I’m certain of.”

SIGMA treats you like the most precious thing in the world, a princess. you need your shoes tied? oh, he’s on the floor with the laces. you need to go somewhere? he’s driving you there. you want to visit the sky casino? he would rig all the games so that you’d win every time. sigma is sweet and polite—he would always make sure you are fine with something before going ahead with it.

“How about here? I think this is a nice spot.”

“Okay! Let’s set our stuff here then.”

You and Sigma set down everything you brought for your evening picnic on the hills. The spot he had pointed out was directly in front of the sun setting behind the mountains, its golden glow bathing the earth in the day’s final hour of light.

Once all the food was organized on the blanket, you took out a couple of ribbons from your pocket.

“Do you want me to help you?” Sigma asked as you tried to figure out where to put them in your already-styled hair without a mirror. He noticed your struggle.

“Oh! Sure,” you replied with a shy smile, and immediately after, he was behind you, taking the braids in your hair and tying the ribbons onto those.

“Thank you,” you replied when he was done, and when Sigma stepped back, he smiled in admiration.

“Of course.” He took your hand as you both sat beside each other.

“It’s so pretty here.” You turned to face the mountains, the sun halfway below the horizon. “You were right; this is the perfect spot!”

You looked back at Sigma, but it seemed like he paid no attention to the view at all. His eyes were only on you.

“…Sigma?”

“Y-you look really pretty,” he said, eyes not leaving once you made eye contact with him.

“…Can I kiss you?”

Immediately, you felt your heart melt because your lover was so innocent and lovely. You had been together for months, yet he was still asking for permission to kiss you.

“Of course, Sigma! We’re literally dating, you can kiss me whenever you want.”

“O-okay!” You giggled at his smitten reaction.

You closed your eyes and puckered your lips in a dramatic act of preparation.

It seemed you had been mistaken, though. Because, he had kissed you on the forehead.

“O-Ohh—oops, I thought you meant-”

But then, Sigma’s lips were over yours. His hand that wasn’t holding yours gently guided your face towards his. His touches were all tender, expressing how much he adored you.

You wrapped your own free hand around his neck, pulling him closer. You opened your eyes slightly to take a peek, seeing his own were fluttered closed under such pretty eyelashes, and his expression content, basking in your comfort.

It was as if you and him finally breaking away was the moon’s cue to rise. The sun had set entirely by the time you were done, shades of warm-toned colored clouds left as a trail.

“That was sneaky of you, Sigma,” you laughed, cheeks warm and your head a bit hazy from how everything in the setting was so dreamy. “You tricked me by going for my forehead first.”

“I wasn’t going to kiss you straight-up like that! It was intimidating, you just waiting!”

You laughed some more, seeing his own cheeks tint a light shade of pink. “Come on, let’s eat.”

if u rb this post, i heard that ur fav will kiss u tn! reblogs are cherished; they support me as a creator. <3

© aureatchi 2023. no reposts or translations. do not steal.

[black-cat-luck]

Jason groans as a gun points between his eyes, he’s a civilian right now, standing beside Bruce as the mugger yells unnecessarily at them. What Jason should’ve done, is pull his wallet out of his back pocket and hand it over. It’s been ingrained in all of them to just give them whatever they’re asking for. A wallet is meaningless, don’t act stupid over something as small as money. But Jason is angry. He and Bruce are trying to mend their relationship, and they were having a really good night, Jason was actually happy to be with Bruce tonight, and this asshole just had to ruin it all.

“Y’know what asshole? I would’ve just handed it over no problem but you’re being a real prick and I should just beat the hell outta you for it.” Jason sneers, he takes a step forward and Bruce suddenly yanks him back, it’s a surprising force, and Jason’s view is suddenly blocked, he feels his wallet get yanked out of his pocket, and he can only see the back of Bruce’s head, hearing the sound of the wallets being shoved into the muggers hand. Bruce hasn’t said a word, and the mugger runs off without one as well. Jason is angry now, because yeah wallets are meaningless, and they all carry two so they can hand off one without anything but some cash and an expired gift card, but it’s the principle. Red Hood just got mugged?? Batman handed over their wallets without just disarming the man?

Jason Todd has disarmed men in seconds before, has turned their own guns on them before they can blink, one little gun means nothing in his face, and he learned it from Bruce, he learned it from the man who can break a wrist and pour out the bullets before the assailant can even get a single threat out, so why is Jason now standing here mugged?

“What the hell was that about Bruce? We easily could’ve just-“ Jason stops mid sentence, he’d been angry, his words had a bite to them, and he was ready to just go off, but as he walks around Bruce, he sees him standing completely still, staring where the mugger had been, hands clenched in fists in front of him. He doesn’t blink, he doesn’t even react to Jason’s voice.

“Oh.” Jason whispers, looking around to see they’re in an alley now, having been shoved into it with a gun in their face, threatened by a strange man to give him what they had of value. Jason looks back to Bruce and sees that the man’s face is paler than he’s ever seen it. “Okay, okay B I’ve got you, we’re okay.” He says gently, he wraps his arms around Bruce, and feels the man violently flinch at the touch. “We’re okay, it’s over, we’re safe. Let’s go home yeah?” Jason’s voice is soft as he gets Bruce to start moving, feet dragging against the floor as Jason keeps his arms wrapped around him, they make it to where their car was, just barely a block away, and Jason helps him in, sighing as he starts driving.

Alfred is already ready for them when they get back to the manor. Jason helps Bruce up to his bedroom, and wraps a blanket around his shoulders. “Hey old man we’re safe and home okay? See-“ Jason steps back and waves his hands over himself. “I’m good, you’re good.” He pats Bruce down, trying to get it across in whatever way he can. “We’re okay.” He promises, Bruce still has a distant look in his eyes, fingers clutching tightly at the blanket over him. “Get some rest, I’ll be here.” Jason promises, turning and walking out of the room as Alfred brings Bruce tea.

He’s angry at a lot of things, and he’s angry that Bruce was sent into this trauma response, he’s angry that they were mugged. He wants to go put a bullet between the muggers eyes, but he promised Bruce he would be here, and if Bruce calls for Jason and he’s not here, if Bruce somehow finds out where Jason is, that might send him spiraling further. So Jason sits down, trying to squash his anger away as he flips dramatically through a magazine sitting on the coffee table.

“Little wing!” Dick says excitedly as he comes inside, and Jason sighs, annoyed, but thankful for a new distraction as he skims through some celebrity story. “Dickhead.” Jason responds, not even looking up as Dick plops himself onto the couch across from him. “Thought tonight was yours and Bruce’s daddy son date?” Dick teases as Jason rolls his eyes. “Got mugged.” He says, not missing the way the silence hits them thickly. “What?” Dick ask, worry clear in his voice, Jason’s sighs and sets the magazine down. “We were down by crime alley too, I wanted to fight the asshole but Bruce like…Shut down. He threw our stuff at him and couldn’t even move. He’s been catatonic for a while now, Alf is upstairs with him.” He says, rubbing his temple as Dick’s expression stays full of worry, but also very sad. “That must’ve been so scary.” Dick says softly, and Jason huffs. “The guy was an amateur! I could’ve easily disarmed him and just-“ “for Bruce.” Dick says, and Jason sighs. “Yeah, I’m sure it was, but I was there, I wouldn’t haveve let anything happen to him.” Jason reminds Dick, who sighs in exasperation. “Jay he was scared for you. We all know Bruce has little to no care for his own life, but think about how traumatic it must feel for him to be in that situation again, with you.” Dick explains, and Jason grinds his teeth, not looking at him.

“He’s not always Batman, and you’re not always Red Hood. He was Bruce, and you were Jason, and he was terrified he was going to lose you like he lost them.” Dick’s voice is so gentle it makes Jason angry. “I can protect myself.” He feels like he has to prove himself. “We both know that, but trauma doesn’t care for logic. Bruce probably felt defenseless and scared, and he had you with him, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to save you.” Jason sighs, having no argument. “I know you feel like you have to prove yourself, but you don’t always have to be son of Batman, you can be the son of Bruce.” Dick reminds him, getting up and walking away when Jason doesn’t respond. Dick goes to Bruce’s room, and Jason sits and stares at the bedroom door, and he now has to face his anger as it really is, not how he hides behind it. He’s angry because Bruce was hurt, and he didn’t get to make the bastard sorry for doing this to his dad.

Bruce is okay after a couple hours. Jason is hanging off the edge of the couch, watching upside down as Dick and Bruce descend the stairs, both even laughing and joking about something Jason didn’t hear. Jason gets dizzy as he rights himself, and barely has enough time to blink out the duplicates of Bruce as the man hugs him. He sits on the couch beside him as Jason grumbles, but hugs him back. “Welcome back old man.” He mumbles, unconsciously burying his face in Bruce’s shoulder as the elder man laughs softly. “Sorry Jay, you alright?” He asks, he pulls away from the hug, but stays close enough to still have one arm wrapped around him, the other busy carding his fingers through his son’s hair. “Just fine.” Jason responds, and Bruce sits back, knowing his time of accepted physical touch was up.

“I’m glad you’re okay, I was just waiting here until you were, I’m gonna go find that bastard and shove that gun up his-“ “already done.” Both Jason and Bruce blink at Dick, who’s smiling slyly. “What.” Jason says, eyes narrowing. “Oh he was from metropolis, ran back there right after, I might have let a small not well known forum in on the fact that someone had the nerve to rob Bruce Wayne and put a gun to his sons head, so he was handled before Superman had the time to find him hanging from a light pole by his underwear.” Dick rocks on his feet as both Bruce and Jason stare at him. “Gotham thugs are pretty protective over pretty boy here, some work in Metropolis and had some time on their hands waiting for the train home.” Dick is too casual about it, and it’s also kind of frightening that he can just…Send a hit on a random person; and thugs from Gotham will just, do it?

Neither Bruce nor Jason say anything, and Dick smiles wider. “Didn’t want to worry about you going after him little wing! I’m gonna make hot chocolate.” He says, turning and walking away, leaving the room in the confused and part worried silence Jason and Bruce stare at each other with. “Well, saves me time.” Jason finally settles on, sitting back and kicking his feet up in Bruce’s lap. Bruce is torn between being grateful his son isn’t out there putting himself in danger over this, but also worried that it’s only been four hours, and Dick already has it all handled. “Alright I’m too tired to think this hard.” Bruce decides, sitting back and turning the tv on, his free hand rests on Jason’s legs, thumb rubbing shapes into the boys ankle, and they’re both comforted having one another like this, and even more so when Dick joins them, kicking his feet on top of Jason’s, and Bruce has his eldest two sitting beside him, comfortable and safe.

[zeltqz]

selfish | haitani ran

synopsis. haitani ran wants you, but can't have you because it would be considered selfish. content. 12k words (listen ik its long just hear me out..), fem!reader, friends to enemies to lovers, mild fwb situation gone wrong, ran's mother is in prison and gives shitty advice, implied sexual harassment (some creepy junkie, nothing happens though), mildly toxic ran, possessiveness, alcohol mentions, ran says hurtful things when he's drunk. NSFW content. authors note. this was inspired by an ask that i changed up a little because i LUV drama, so anon if you see this and recongise the plot creds to uuuuuuuuuuuuuuu for the idea!!!!

You were jolted awake by the violent buzz of your phone, muffled by your pillow. You groggily sat up, wiping your eyes and slapped around under your pillow for your phone. Carefully, you rolled to the far edge of your bed and answered. 

“Hello?”

“Come down. I’m outside.”

“Ran it’s…2 in the morning.”

“Just come. I want to talk to you.”

You slipped from your bed, yawning and grabbing your house keys on the way out. Once you were outside, the instant regret of not bringing a jacket hit you as you shivered from the cold. You were about to run back inside, but decided against it when you saw Ran’s car parked at the end of the road, the lights on and the windshield wipers actively wiping away the snow. 

You resisted the urge to dramatically slam the door shut when you got in the car. “There better be a zombie apocalypse happening right now if you think waking me up at 2 am was a good idea.”

“So I can only contact you when the world is ending?”

“At 2am, yes.” You leaned your head back against his car seat, mindlessly closing your eyes to savour onto the lingering signs of sleep. “Why’re you even here? I thought you were out of town.”

“I had plans.” He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. 

“Like plans or ‘plans’?” His smile turned into a smirk and you grimaced. “Ew don’t touch me.”  He laughed playfully and gestured at your seatbelt. You put it on as he started the car, pulling out onto the main road. 

“So where are you taking me anyway?” you asked, plucking at a loose thread on your pyjama bottoms. 

“Nowhere in particular. Just driving around.”

“Cool. So why am I here then?”

“Wanted company. Is that so wrong?” 

You looked his way, wondering if he was being serious right now. “Why didn’t you call your brother then? Or literally anybody else.”

“Because I wanted to see you.” He glanced in your direction, seeing the stunned expression on your face that you quickly fixed when you realised he was staring. 

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah sure. Whatever.” You yawned and turned to the side to lean against the window. 

“If you’re tired you can sleep.”

“I don’t wanna fall asleep on you. That’s rude.” Another yawn. “I’ll manage it.”

“You hungry?” he asked, pulling up towards a late night fast food drive-thru across the street. 

“Kinda. Now that I think about it, I barely ate all day.”

“Don’t know how you do it honestly.” He was plucking at his baby hairs as he slowed the car to a stop. “Alright whaddya want.” 

You peeked past his body to look at the menu on the wall, the bright lights straining your tired eyes. “Literally anything. I don’t care.” He clicked his tongue and stared at you. You sighed. “I don’t want you to waste money on me.”

“Don’t stress,” he said, waving off your concern with a wave of his hand. You settled in your seat as he rolled down the window. You were distractedly scrolling on your phone to pass time as he spent the next five minutes ordering. 

Looking up, you saw he already had the bag of food on his lap, but instead of handing it to you, his arm is leaning against the window, smirking as he talks to the cashier working the drive-thru. She has her finger twirling her hair, leaning so far from the narrow window you’re surprised she hasn’t fallen out yet. 

“Hello?? Can we go?!” you snapped. 

“Oh, sorry.” The girl leered in your direction, taking you back momentarily before she fixed her features in time when she looked back at Ran. “It was nice meeting you,” she said softly, her voice lacking the same venomous tone she gave you earlier.

“Pleasure meeting you too. See you around beautiful.” You don’t know if he winked or did his signature smirk at her, but it was something of that nature because she had to fan herself to calm the redness on her face as his car began driving off.

You took the bag of food from his lap and ripped it open. “Do you really have to flirt with every girl you meet?”

“Someone sounds jealous.” You weren’t even looking in his direction but you could envision the shit eating grin of his face when he said that.

“I’m not jealous. I just know how to keep it in my pants and not go around flirting with every guy I meet.” You bit the packaging of the straw and poked it in your drink more aggressively than you intended.

“Have you maybe thought that’s because you just suck at flirting?” 

You almost choked on your drink with how quick you moved your head to face him. “I don’t suck at flirting!”

He snorted, taking one hand off the wheel to support his head as he leaned against the door. “Sureeeeeeeee.”

“Don't say sure like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t believe me!”

He shrugged. “I don’t.” He stopped the car at a red light. “Show me how you flirt then.”

You stared down at the food in your hands, contemplating if you should. When you looked up, you saw him already staring at you, waiting. “Fine.” You wiped your hands and set your food back down, putting it back in the takeout bag before shifting to face him on your seat. 

You cleared your throat, readying yourself to speak. The second you opened your mouth, it was like your mind blanked and you instantly closed it again. “This is too embarrassing. I can’t.”

“It’s only embarrassing if you make it embarrassing,” he responded back, shifting his attention back on the road when the light changed to green.

“No. I just know you’re going to laugh at me if I do it.”

“No I won’t.” He put a hand over his heart. “Scouts honour”

“You’re so ridiculous,” you grumbled but laughed nonetheless. “Okay, I’ll do it once we get home. I need time to prepare.”

Ran seemed to agree with that and in the fifteen minutes it took you to get home, you finished your food. He was parked outside your house across the street and you were idly sipping at your drink.

“Alright, ready?” He turned the engine off, leaving the radio still on.

“Wait this is my favourite song.” You inched forward to turn the volume up only to recoil when he slapped your hand away. “What the hell?!”

“Stop stalling.” He ignored the frustrated look on your face. “Show me already. I didn’t drive you here for nothing.”

“You shouldn’t have driven here at 3 in the morning anyway!”

“So ungrateful.” He pinched your nose with two fingers, laughing when you swatted him away. “Show meeee.”

“Okay fine! Fine!” You set your drink in the cupholder and turned to look at him. “I actually don’t know how to flirt.”

“Had a feeling.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Want me to teach you,” he asked gently, looking directly into your eyes. You found it hard to look away in that moment, like so much was riding on your answer. 

You nodded slowly. “Yeah… okay…”

“Alright. Guys love it when you’re confident and can hold eye contact. So hold eye contact as much as you can, but don’t stare like a creep. That shit’s weird. Show ‘em you’re engaged in the conversation when they’re talking about themselves and just stare into their eyes. Shit, that even gets me all fuzzy when a girl knows how to hold it. Had me stutterin’ and shit once.”

You blinked and envisioned a stuttering, flustered Ran in your mind. “Really? Eye contact? That’s all?” He shrugged and nodded. “That sounds really hard to believe honestly.”

“Really?” You nodded. “Reaaaally?” he repeated, extra slow, giving you enough time to back out when you have the chance.

“Yes. Reaaaaally Ran.”

“Tell me what you did today.”

You crossed your arms and looked up at the ceiling. “Well…I woke up this morning…I went to work, had lunch, worked until 4, then came home and studied.”

“In detail.”

“Is that really necessary?” you complained, but the look on his face was completely serious. Sighing, you settled back into your seat. “Okay so I went to bed late as fuck last night and I woke up at like 12 which was so bad because my shift started in fifteen minutes. So I wondered whether or not I should go and—”

“Look at me when you talk.”

You were about to slap him. You sighed and turned to look at him. 

“I went to back late last night and woke up at like…” Your mind blanked, and you struggled to find your words or remember what the hell you did hours ago with him looking so intently at you. “...11 ish? Which was—”

“You said it was 12, no?” he tilted his head, his stare unwavering.

You gulped. “Yes. Sorry. I woke up at 12 and my shift started at 12:15.” Your face burned. Just what the hell was wrong with you. In that moment, you felt like you were out of your own body, spirit you watching as you did nothing but blink uselessly at Ran. You fought the urge to slap yourself and ignore his slutty mind tricks. 

You looked down at your lap only to have him lift your face back to him with a single finger. “You’re not done with your story yet.”

“...right…right.” You cleared your throat again. He leaned forward, forearms resting on the steering wheel, locking his gaze on you. Was Ran always this hot? Surely you’ve noticed it before but not like this, where your mind is focusing only on him, and pushing all other stray thoughts out of the way 

You inhaled deeply and regained composure. “And I briefly considered whether or not I should go in late…but my boss has been kinda mean to me lately and…”

He raised an eyebrow, nodding as he studied your face, and urged you to continue when you stopped talking.

“...so I went in and finished my shift. My boss wasn’t too mad at me which was good I guess.”

“Then what?” His voice was purposefully different than usual, it was lower in that moment, throwing you off balance completely.

Your throat suddenly felt dry. “One second.” You grabbed your drink from before and began taking long sips from it, still feeling the intensity of his stare against the side of your face. Once you gulped half the drink down, you forcefully swallowed your burp, not wanting to ruin the weird, but heated atmosphere in the car with your natural bodily functions. 

“Then I went home to study for my exam on Thursday and fell asleep. Then your annoying ass woke me up and here I am.”

He laughed lightly, pulling back to return back to his seat. “How hard was that? Be honest.” His head rested back against the headrest, smirking at you. “Don’t lie now.”

You looked down at your lap, averting your eyes from his and refusing to make eye contact. You hated that you had to admit that it actually worked, his intense eye contact had actually effected you. He kept urging you until you persisted and you groaned inwardly. “Fine. It worked.”

“Seeeeee?” He jostled you playfully, and you smiled weakly. “I told ya. Anyway, want more advice?”

“There’s more?” Was the eye contact not enough? You didn’t even want to think how much power this man has. 

“Yeah. Say his name a lot. Drives me crazy when I hear a girl say my name.”

You snorted. “Sounds oddly narcissistic of you,” you retorted before you could catch yourself. “Sorry.”

“(Y/N),” he called your name in a deep, rumbling tone that had you internally shut down and log off. 

Once you came back, you grinned, impressed. “Wow…you’re good,” you admitted, subtly rubbing your hand along your arm to rid it of the goosebumps that seemed to sprout up whenever he spoke to you in that tone. “You’re actually a danger to society.”

“It’s fun making girls all flustered.” His hand rose to rest on your thigh. When you didn’t shrug it off or tell him to stop, his fingers began to caress softly against your skin. His touch felt electrifying, zapping through the fabric of your pyjama bottoms as he continued his actions.

“Something wrong?” he asked teasingly when he saw you struggle to control yourself, clenching your thighs together.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re not gonna tell me to stop?”

“No.”

“I see.” His thumb continued to stroke your inner thigh.

You don’t know what possessed you at that moment, but you grabbed his hand and placed it between your legs. He looked at you, confused and surprised at your sudden boldness. 

You pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, and whispered into his ear, “I can be seductive too, you know?”

Something in your words ignited a flame inside him, something primal and raw when your lips softly grazed down his ear. He turned his head to meet yours. 

“I’m sure you can be,”  he said softly, leaning in to kiss you gently. The kiss was only a soft press of his lips against yours, and your desire to want him to kiss you for real grew stronger by the second.

His hand moved down your body, helping you pass the console to straddle him. One hand slid down the back of his neck as you kissed each other hungrily, your tongue sliding out to meet his. He bit your bottom lip, gently sucking it while running his tongue along the inside of your mouth, slowly parting your lips with his. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, pulling away to look down at him, resting your forehead against his. You went back in, and the kiss quickly turned heated, hungry and wild. “This doesn’t mean anything, right?” you asked, panting slightly.

He broke the eye contact to look down at his hands on your waist, sliding down to your hips and held you firmly in place, leaving no space between you. “Nah. Let’s just have fun.”

He cupped the back of your neck to bring you in for another kiss, your insides melting as your body temperature rose at the feeling of his rough hands working you over. He fumbled with the drawstrings of your pj bottoms until they loosened, slipping his hands inside, desperate to touch bare skin.

“No panties,” he grinned against your lips, giving you a peck when you flushed. 

“They’re uncomfortable at night…gotta let it breathe, you know?” you mumbled, looking down at his lap. 

He nudged your head up using his own and reattached his lips to yours. His hands continued to explore your body, roaming up and down your back, clutching at your waist. He placed his hand firmly on the back of your head, gilding your head movements into the kiss.

His thumb traced circles on the soft flesh on your hip as your mouth left his to plant open, wet kisses along his neck, teeth nipping and skimming when the radio thought it’ll be a wonderfully convenient idea to switch from the soft music it was playing earlier, to sudden heavy death metal, loud instruments and screaming booming through the car. 

You both jumped apart, your head smacked against the roof of the car, wailing as you winced when Ran started laughing. “It’s not funny!”

He doesn’t stop laughing because why would he, but he at least reached forward, your body on his lap following his movements as he turned the volume down.

“Why do you even have that on your playlist?!” 

“Rindou had a…phase. I hate it too, don’t worry.” 

You continued to rub the sore spot and pouted when you felt a headache blooming, already kissing goodbye to your good night’s sleep tonight. 

“Come here.” He smoothed a hand over the sore spot. “Better?”

“Kinda.” Your sour mood lessens and you start laughing, hiding your face in his shoulder. Your shoulders shook as you struggled to control your laughter. He laughed alongside you, his arms tightening around your body as he pulled you back against him. 

“That scared the living shit out of me,” you panted, finally catching your breath, kissing down the side of his neck. 

He turned his face to properly meet yours. You kissed him deeply, slowly rocking your hips with his as his strong hands squeezed tightly against your ass. After a while, you broke the kiss, your body now craving more than just kissing.

“Stop teasing me,” you complained, pushing him lightly on the chest.

“‘S fun seeing you so worked up,” he said with a shitty smirk, pressing a kiss to your neck. Your head lolled back as he steadily worked his way down the column of your throat, then down your chest.

His fingers bunched around the hem of your shirt, about to tug it off when you looked outside. The sun was still dark, but the promise of sunrise just around the corner as it rounded near 4 am. Obviously people wouldn’t be up and walking around this late, but the thought still made you stiffen.

“What’s wrong?” Ran asked, pausing with your shirt half way up your stomach.

“Can we go inside?” you asked, dragging the tips of your nails along the flat plane of his stomach. Despite having spent the last ten minutes making out with this man, the question implied more and your face burned when his eyes widened a bit. 

You looked down at your hands moving under his shirt, tracing patterns across his skin and bit down a giggle when he squirmed as you hit a particularly ticklish spot, poking his belly button. You took a mental note of that for later…

“You sure you wanna?” he asked carefully. You nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.” 

You quietly stumbled out of the car, holding his hand as you crossed the street to your house. You were fumbling with your keys, hard to find the keyhole in the darkness. It wasn’t helping your focus and accuracy with Ran behind you, fingers caressing your hips and waist, nipping at your neck. You let out a soft moan, giving up with your keys to lean your head back against his shoulder to give him more access before you quickly came to your senses.

“I need to open the door, go away,” you said with a huff, ignoring his laughter as you pushed him away. 

The door slammed shut and you locked it before pouncing on Ran, letting him press you up hard against the door as he hungrily devoured your mouth. His lips branded the soft skin of your neck as he dipped lower, carrying you to your bedroom. You were dropped mindlessly on your bed, bouncing from the impact as he hovered over you, your mind pleasantly blank as you focused solely on how badly you needed him right now.

His fingers slipped down your underwear and you saw stars.

~*~

As you were walking through the aisles of the grocery store, your music was interrupted by your phone ringing. You jerked your phone out from your jeans pocket to stare at the caller ID. Just a long string of numbers. 

“Who is this?” you asked suspiciously, racking your brain for a time you handed your number out to anyone you hadn’t saved.

“It’s Ran. What, forgot about me already?” 

Your mood immediately dampened and you clutched your phone tighter in your hand. “Why’re you calling me?”

“Easy with the hostility, man. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“And you couldn’t have done this, I dunno, in the two months you spent ghosting me? And don’t tell me “easy with the hostility”, I have a right to be fucking mad after you just hit and dipped like that.”

“Hit and dipped?”

“You ghosted me dumbass.”

You heard a loud exhale. “Right… yeah about that.”

“What do you want Ran?”

“I miss you.”

You almost forgot how to breathe. “Areyoufuckingkiddingmerightnow?”

“You heard me. I said I missed you.”

“Let me guess, there’s no other girls available right now, right? That’s why you’re bugging me?” It would be a wild accusation if not for the fact after that night you spent together, his phone buzzed incessantly, the constant vibrations waking you up and you saw notifications of girls in his inbox, sending him the usual “are you up?” text messages, followed up with images of themselves half naked.

He hummed. “Why would there be other girls? I’m talking to you right now.”

“Because you’re you.”

“Ok, but I’m serious though. I miss you a lot.” You found it so hard to give this man any sympathy.

“Well who’s fault is that? Nobody asked you to stop speaking to me after that night.”

“I know I know. I messed up. I just didn’t know how to approach you after that.” He sounded seriously stressed over this, and your face softened for a fraction of a moment before memories of you constantly checking your phone to see if he bothered to open your message yet reappear in your mind; just like that, your scowl is back, sympathy long gone.

“Right. Because THE Haitani Ran gets nervous after sex. Wow, shocker.”

“I mean, you were the best lay I ever had.”

Your traitorous heart stuttered without your permission, making your lips quirk up into a smile. “Really?” You cursed yourself for even entertaining his bullshit, and cursed your body even more for reacting in such a manner.

“Yeah, course you were.”

“Then why’d you ghost me? It’s like you want me to hate you. I swear to god for the life of me I’ll never under male logic.”

“It’s not male logic. ‘S just me, being a dumbass.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“This was different though because we were friends before we fucked, and I didn’t wanna make things weird. I had no clue how to text you after that.” You guessed that made sense, having felt the same awkwardness the morning after waking up sore with him beside you. 

“Oh. Well, it’s only weird if you make it weird.”

“Right. So…can I make it up to you?”

“How?”

“Let’s hang out.”

“Like hang out or ‘hang out’?” Part of you wanted it to be the first one, not wanting to ruin anymore awkwardness in your friendship by sleeping with each other again. But the other part of your body already was hellbent on it being the second, already addicted to the way he makes you feel in bed. 

“The former. But,” his voice dropped lower, “it can also be the latter, if you’re down.”

“I’m down,” you said a bit too quickly for someone trying to seem indifferent.

“Cool. See you tonight then.” 

Before you could say goodbye, he was already saying hi to someone else, and then hung up. Any negative emotions you felt for him was tempered by the excitement buzzing through your limbs as you continued shopping for groceries with a dopey smile on your face, happy you were able to patch things up.

~*~

Time passes since you both agreed to this weird friends with benefits arrangement. All awkwardness is stomped on and thrown out the window, now more open to the matter. Months go by of you losing yourself in his sheets, of him mapping out your body with his tongue, latching his mouth onto your skin and marking you all over. Months go by of you craving his touch whenever you’re alone, picturing his voice in your ear, his presence caging you from above when you’re with other men. Months go by of you both making plans, with you, more than him, staring at your phone the entire day, starting the mental countdown to when you’re next able to see him. 

Life is good for Ran, until the day he dreaded the most every year rolls around. The day he has to visit his mother in prison along with Rindou. Their meet-ups are nothing more than an annual thing, visiting her on her birthday every year. 

“So what have you been up to this year?” she asked disinterestedly. 

Ran could see right through her, can see she’s started using again if the bloodshot eyes and the not so subtle way she rubs her nose were any clue. 

“Good ma,” Rindou responded. “I’ve took up DJ’ing in a few of Dad’s clubs in my free time.”

At the mention of her ex-husband, she sneered. Rindou rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna do that every time I mention him ma?”

“I’ll react however the fuck I want when you bring up that passed around, dried up whore of a man,” she snapped. Rindou doesn’t react, already used to her mood swings and aggressive comments about his father. She jerked her head over to her weirdly quiet son. “And you? What’s your deal?”

“My deal?” Ran asked, matching her levels of indifference. 

“What have you been up to,” she repeated slower, like he was dumb. 

“Nothing.”

“What? Your life is that shit you haven’t done anything for the past year? Nothing at all?” She stared at Ran who responded with silence and a blank stare. “Even I’ve done shit and I’m stuck in this hell hole.”

“Well whose fault is that?” Ran snapped back. Rindou slapped his forehead.

“Listen here you—”

“Ran’s been seeing a girl ma,” Rindou said quickly, hoping that small drop of information about his brother’s life was enough to diffuse a bad situation. 

“A girl?? Who?”

“Just some girl. You don’t know her and never will,” Ran grumbled.

“Is she…?” she gestured at him, at herself. He didn’t respond and she changed the wording of her question. “How did you meet?”

“She’s not involved in what we do ma. If that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Good.” She let out an exhale in relief. “And you make sure to leave her out of it.”

“What?”

She pointed her finger at him. “Don’t pursue this girl because you’re selfish and want to bring her in potential danger. Keep her around, fuck her or whatever it is you do in your spare time that you wanna keep a secret from me, but if you pursue her romantically then you’re a selfish piece of shit.”

Ran stiffened, his glare hardening in her direction. “Keep out of my goddamn business.”

“You know I’m right, Ran. That’s why you’re mad. Isn’t that right, Rindou?” She looked at her youngest son who looked tentatively between them both, staying stubbornly silent. She clicked her tongue and turned back to Ran. “You’d rather put this girl in danger because you can’t stand being alone by yourself. You’ve got issues, Ran. That’s why you haven’t had a relationship longer than 3 months. Correct?”

Ran stared down at the table, silent. 

“Do you care about her?” she asked and Rindou had no idea if he pictured it or not but it looked like she softened for a moment.

Ran didn’t respond, but nodded in slight movements. 

“If you truly care about this girl, you’ll leave her alone. It’s for her own good. Bringing her into your lifestyle is just selfish.”

“Times up,” The officer from the back of the room said, walking towards the table with handcuffs. 

She stood up and placed her hands behind her back. “Do the right thing, Ran.”

“How do you know that’s true though?” he asked.

“Speaking from experience. Look at me, suffering from the actions of your father. He brought me into this lifestyle, and I wasn’t prepared for it. So now I’m facing the consequences. You’re just like your father, Ran. An emotionally distant, sadistic, messed up man. Embrace it or don’t. Try to change or don’t. Either way I don’t care. Just don’t ruin others because of that nature.”

The officer tightened her handcuffs and locked them. “Let’s go,” he said, before escorting her out of the room.

Rindou looked at his brother with sympathy. “You okay?” His hand rose to rest of his shoulder but Ran stood up before he could make contact.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned around. “Let’s go.”

~*~

You weren’t sure what was going on with Ran but he seemed emotionally distant. He was no longer affectionate towards you when you both hung out, his response time was a lot slower than it used to be. When you had sex, he was totally fine though, which weirded you out because he would randomly do a complete 180 out of nowhere with the affection. 

“That was amazing,” you said panting as you collapsed back on the bed. Ran hummed in agreement, gathering you in his chest as you cuddled. You buried your face in his neck, the scent of his cologne heavy in your nose.

“I know,” he sighed, looking down and kissing your forehead. You smiled harder, fighting back the urge to giggle and use his warm body as a blanket.

You were playing with the tip of his braid, occasionally twirling it around the tip of your index finger when you decided now was the time to approach the topic that’d been brewing inside you the last few months.

“So…” you traced your fingernail across the spiral tattoo on his chest.

He looked down at you, a lazy smirk on his face. “So?” He kissed your forehead again.

You bit down on your lip and forced yourself to look into Ran’s eyes. “This might sound cliche, or cheesy or whatever but…”

“Doubt it,” he snorted, taking your hand off his chest and linking his fingers with yours, clutching your hand tightly. When you looked stumped for words, he nudged his shoulder, softly jostling you in the process. “What’s up?”

“Well…” God, this was harder than you thought it would be. 

You chewed the skin of your lips as you tried to calm your nerves before you exploded with anxiety. You nearly froze when he placed his thumb against your lip, tugging it free from its brawl with your teeth. 

Fuck it. “I just wanted to know…what are we…?”

It didn’t help your already racing nerves when he froze beneath you, and you swore you could feel the blood in his body stop flowing at that moment. 

He sat up abruptly, sending you sliding off his chest. You blinked uselessly at the muscled plane of his back, grabbing the sheets and clutching it towards your chest, your body deprived of the warmth his body provided earlier now making your limbs go cold.

He scratched his hair and sighed exhaustedly. “I gotta be honest with you.”

You barely found your voice as you softly said, “Go on.”

“I don’t want a relationship right now.”

“Oh.” You quietly cleared your throat, sitting upright and shifting backwards on your mattress until your back hit the headboard. “With me…or?”

“Anyone.”

“So…what was the point of this then?”

“I dunno? I mean I just thought you liked…” he gestured at the both of you, hoping you’d see where he was coming from. When you didn’t and just stared at him confused, he got more frustrated. “You know, this? What were we doing? I didn’t know you—” He sighed again and groaned. 

You felt like your throat was stuffed with cotton with how hard it was to breathe. “But I thought you liked me?”

“I do like you.”

“So then what’s the hold up?”

“Just because I like you doesn’t mean I have to be with you, okay? I’m busy all the fucking time and you’ll just be getting in the way of that,” he said curtly, not bothering to hide the clear frustration in his voice.

Hurt prickled across your skin, your ears felt full as you toned out everything he was saying. He turned to face you, those eyes of his that normally made you flush from head to toe now felt so cold and distant, like you didn’t know who the man in front of you was. 

“Just get out, Ran.” You choked back tears as they threatened to fall from your eyes, but you quickly looked away before they could. He’d seen you vulnerable beneath him many times, but this time was different. You couldn’t—no, you won’t allow him the satisfaction of seeing he made you this upset.

“No wait.” He reached out for you, his heart shattering when you pushed him away, sulking. 

He had a weird feeling in his chest, one that he wasn’t used to feeling, and instead of combating his emotions like a regular person, he discarded them  to the side, pretending they didn’t exist. He sighed exasperatedly and slid off your bed.

You moved to lay down, covering your entire body with your bedsheets as you heard him pack up his things. He silently changed and gently closed the door when he left. Once you heard your front door close, you sat up and wiped your tears, grabbing your phone from your dresser. 

The next few hours were spent watching youtube videos, laughing softly at the comments people left. It made you feel less useless about yourself and tried to desperately take your mind off what just happened prior. Honestly, you blame yourself for even bringing it up. It wasn’t worth ruining a two year friendship over.

Sure, it’s normal to catch feelings for a guy that treats you nice, isn’t selfish in bed and actually takes his time to account for your needs. That doesn’t mean you’re romantically interested in him though, right? Guaranteed it could’ve been any other of your friends, like Sanzu or even Mikey and you would’ve developed those same feelings, right? 

Before you had any time to digest that topic deeper, a text message notification popped up on your screen.

Ran: ok so that was awkward before. Can we talk this over properly?? I dont want to ruin what we had honestly. It…was a mistake to start sleeping together i know. We both had different intentions and i apologise if I sent you mixed feelings. Your friendship is something I value a lot and I don’t wanna lose that. So can we start over??? Just be friends this time? 

You: sure i guess. Sorry if i made things uncomfortable earlier.

Ran: ur good. Ill see you later then?

You: yeah okay

You and Ran had fought many times over the course of your friendship, and each time you both were able to move on like nothing happened. But this time, it just felt different. You felt it.

~*~

“You know it’s 3 in the morning right?” Sanzu rubbed his eyes, yawning obnoxiously. “I mentally check out from 2-10am.” 

“Shut up.” You dig around in his pocket and pull out a box of cigarettes. “Give me a lighter.”

“Since when do you smoke?” he asked, then tacked on, “Oh and I don’t have one.”

“Then why do you have a box of cigarettes then?!” 

Sanzu blinked at your sudden outburst. “Okay first. Calm down. Inside voices, we’re outside right now.” You fought the urge to point out how contradictory it was to use your inside voice outside but let it slide. “Secondly, why are you acting so…”

“So what?” 

“You know…” he looked carefully at you, trying to gauge your reaction if he were to say the words he truly wanted to say.

“If you’re about to say bitchy save it.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Then what were you going to say?” you raised your brow, waiting. He slowly closed his mouth and looked down at the floor in defeat. “Exactly,” you said triumphantly, then exhaled softly and looked around the street for any convenience stores that sell lighters.

“So can I ask why you suddenly want to smoke?”

“I’m stressed out okay?” You began walking towards the 24 hour convenience store across the street, Sanzu following behind you. “I sort of, maybe not, confessed to Ran earlier and he wanted to stay friends. So now I don’t think I can handle being in the same room as him without wanting to die.”

Sanzu yawned again, scratching his eye. “That sucks. I dunno what that has to do with me though.”

“I need company! I feel like I’m going to explode if I’m alone with myself tonight.”

 The bell chimed when you both entered the store, instantly heading over to the counter to buy the lighter. The cashier went to the back to grab the lighter.

“All I’m hearing is that you missed me,” Sanzu teased, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He was expecting you to push him off like you normally do. He definitely was not expecting you to chuckle, hug him back and mildly not in agreement. 

He backed away dramatically, narrowly avoiding stumbling into a display shelf and tapped your shoulder to get your attention. When you turned around, he kept staring gingerly at your face, causing you to raise your eyebrow.

“What?”

“Who are you and what did you do to my friend?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, pushing him away from you. The cashier handed you the lighter and you paid him, leaving the store with Sanzu behind you. Grabbing the box of cigarettes, you lit one up and exhaled for the nth time tonight.

“Do you think it’s normal for a guy to just be friends with a girl they used to have a thing with? Or if it’s normal for them to be friends with girls they know like them?”

Sanzu shrugged. “Are you asking the opinion of all men or just Ran? Because nobody knows what that guy is thinking when it comes to women. He’s way too comfortable around girls so probably? I mean, it’ll be in the back of his mind, sure, but as long as you’re not awkward around him it’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Guess we’ll have to see.” He pulled the cigarette from your mouth and dropped it on the floor, stubbing it out with his foot. At your shocked face, he held his hand out. “I don’t want you taking on bad habits because you’re having an emotional meltdown.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not having an emotional meltdown.”

“Sure…” He yawned for the fifth time tonight. “If I stay out any longer I’m going to pass out on the street. I’ll see you later, okay?” He pat you on the head, deliberately ignoring your complaint of “don’t fuck up my hair” and made his way home.

~*~

In the time you spent avoiding anything Ran related, that also meant avoiding people and situations that he was guaranteed to be there. It meant you stop hanging out with your mutual friends in groups, stopped going to parties you knew he was hosting. Was it bad your other friendships had to be jeprodized because you were too scared to confront your newfound, fresh start with Ran? Yeah, it wasn’t your proudest moment either. But it also meant you were spending a lot more time with Sanzu and Mikey. Out of everyone in his gang, they were the least close, only talking to each other with work related issues. Sanzu and Ran had this unspoken hatred with each other, that made the two of them avoid each other at all costs, not wanting to start another argument or fight.

That was great news for you because it would mean no impromptu visits, like the incident at Hanma’s house, or no unexpected calls from Ran like when you were hanging out with Kakucho, or no fear that Ran would be upstairs in his room when you were hanging out with Rindou. 

Hanging out with Sanzu more often also meant getting closer with Senju. She’s two years younger than you and you treated her like a little sister. It was her birthday next weekend and Takeomi was in charge of the planning the surprise birthday party, which meant nobody had a single clue who was coming.

If that were the case, you wouldn’t have shown up that day. 

“Ran. Are you going to Senju’s party?” Takeomi asked, exhaling cigarette smoke over the phone.

“Do I have to? I don’t know that girl.”

“I don’t care what you do. Just tell me so I can start planning her shit.”

“Depends honestly. Who’s going?”

Takeomi started listing off the names which included some of Senju’s college friends that Ran didn’t care about, some of their mutual friends like Sanzu (duh), Mikey, Kakucho, you, Rindou—wait, hold up.

“Wait, (y/n)’s going?” Ran cut Takeomi off mid sentence.

Takeomi grunted. “Yes.”

“Fine. I’ll go.” He hung up before Takeomi could say anything. Honestly Ran couldn’t care less about Senju, his only motivation was the thought of seeing you.

The fact he sent you that message, hoping it’ll mend whatever dent was placed in your friendship, only to get slapped in the face when you spent the last four months avoiding him pissed him off to no extent. He wasn’t blocked, he knew you wouldn’t do that to him, but he didn’t have the courage to check either. Maybe this party would be the perfect time to talk to you, to catch up and mend until he could selfishly hold you in his arms again. 

He didn’t spend the whole four months pining over you, the group of girls in his bed would confirm that, but there was an unknown feeling in his chest, something always wriggling at the back of his mind that he knew distantly was caused by you. It was getting annoying, having his shitty mother’s words ringing in the back of his mind every time he thought about making up with you. It took him about three months to realise that he actually loved you, whether that was a fact he wanted to accept or not. That feeling he was deliberately avoiding, was his conscious telling him to stop self sabotaging himself and just tell you how he feels.

He can’t wait to see you next Saturday.

~*~

When Ran says he knew nothing about your life in the last four months it wasn't an exaggeration. He genuinely had no idea who you were with, what you were doing, where and when. So you could only imagine his shock when he sees you’ve somehow become best buddies with Manjiro and fucking Sanzu, the idiot currently sitting between your legs on the floor as you braided his hair. 

You looked so pretty tonight, dressed up semi formal. Your hair and makeup was done in a way that Ran had never seen you in before. Senju sat beside you, talking loudly and making you laugh. Sanzu scrolled on his phone, waiting for you to finish his hair. Mikey sat next to you, his head resting on your shoulder as he looked like he was on the verge of sleep.

If you noticed him come in tonight, you sure hid it well, not even bothering to acknowledge his existence. He was planning on talking to you after Senju blew out her candles, that was until he saw what he did. 

After a load of drinks, everybody was pretty tipsy, including you and Manjiro as you both made out in the patio, his hands caressing your thighs as you sat sideways on his lap. The patio was filled with Senju’s friends in the pool, the smell of barbecue (requested by Senju) filling the air as people hovered around the grill, desperate for some savoury meat. It was hard to see you and Manjiro at first, but he did, as if his eyes were automatically drawn to you no matter where in the room.

Granted he had no right to feel the way he did, he knows that, and his words from that night constantly play on loop in his mind. He told you he wanted to be just friends and you agreed to that, and friends don’t get mad at friends for having relationships. But his boss of all fucking people? He wouldn’t give this much of a fuck if it was Shion or something.

“Drink up bitch!” Sanzu shoved a cup into Ran’s hand, resting his arm on the taller boy’s shoulder as he watched Ran grimace at the beverage.

“The fuck is this supposed to be?” 

“Dunno honestly. Just mixed a bunch of shit together.” Sanzu clinked his cup with his. “You’ll probably wake up tomorrow with memory loss and severe liver damage, but bon appetit.”

“I’m not drinking your mystery drink.”

“Boo. No fun.” Sanzu pouted, taking a big gulp of his drink.

“Why are you even talking to me?”

“Because you look like you’re about to kill somebody and as much as I relate to that feeling, I don’t want any drama on Senju’s birthday. She’ll never shut the fuck up about it. So drink up and enjoy the party dude.” He lifted the cup to Ran’s lips which stayed stubbornly closed until he gave in, making a face as it burned down his throat.

“See! It’s not so bad!” Sanzu slapped his back before walking away, ready to hand out samples of his new drink to random people. 

Fifteen minutes later and whatever Sanzu poured in that drink did wonders, Ran couldn’t help but admit. He got over his sour funk sooner than he’d thought. The liquor running through his veins made him socialise a hundred times better and managed to snag five pretty girls’ numbers tonight. He was currently leaning against the wall, hovering beside this girl he couldn’t remember the name of for the life of him (it wasn’t his fault, he blames it on Sanzu), as she tilted up to whisper provocative things in his ear. She looked like she’d be good in bed, and that was all Ran was thinking about when he saw your hair bounce past him.

Ran looked just in time to see you disappear through a doorway, and he abruptly pulled himself away from the girl before him. “I’ll be back in a sec. Just…do whatever,” he said, not even looking at her as he walked away. 

When he rounded the corner, his stomach did backflips as he saw you yell something to some people inside a room down the hallway before turning around. You almost recoiled when you saw Ran and mentally cursed the fact there was no objects, or people you could hide behind.

You pressed your lips into a wry smile and tried to walk past him before he grabbed your arm, stopping you. “What, so you’re not talking to me at all now?”

“Okay, calm down. It’s been like four months.”

“Which is a long time?” His phone lit up in his hand, a text message of a girl asking where he is with a string of sad faces emojis, and to add fuel to the fire, a tongue and water splash emoji. Ran clicked his tongue and made a mental note to block her when he’s done with this. 

You scoffed. “Sorry I hadn’t been able to entertain you these last four months, Ran. I just assumed girls 1 though 56 had it handled for me.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean,” he said curtly, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

You looked up at him, mouth in a thin line as you hissed, “Exactly how it sounds. Now I have somewhere to be.” You tried to skirt past him but he blocked your way out. He suddenly felt too big, too close, and your simmering temper was beginning to surface. “Ran seriously move.” You tried pushing his chest, but it didn’t work.

“Why? So you can go back to sucking face with Mikey?” Shut up…please, just shut up, sober Ran was yelling inside his head, but the words just came out before he could stop them. Note to self, never drink anything from Sanzu ever again. 

“Sucking face? Why are you…why do you even care?! You’re the one that said “I don’t want a relationship right now” so you don’t get a right to act all possessive over me and shit. Just because you’re too emotionally stunted to maintain a goddamn relationship, doesn’t mean everybody else is like that.” Your chest burnt with anger at his fucking audacity. Seriously, who does he think he is?

“What, so you want a relationship with Mikey, that it? Someone’s who is even more emotionally stunted than everybody in this fucking party combined?”

“And if I do? Is that your business? Whatever my decision is, it’s not up to you. Now get out of my way.” You leaned in close to his face as you glared up at him. His anger gave way into something more heated that made him lick his lips, wondering how you’d react if he were to kiss you right now.  You were about to attempt to walk away when Kakucho stumbled out of one of the rooms in the hallway, slightly tipsy.

“What’s going on? Why are you yelling?”

“Kakucho. Get your boy and tell him to leave me the fuck alone.” You pointed at Ran who snapped out of his stupor.

“Ran, let her leave.”

“Not till I get my answers.”

You pinched your temples, not even bothering to lower your voice as you yelled in sheer frustration, “What answers Ran?! I don’t owe you shit!”

“What’s going on?” Mikey stumbled out of the room you were exiting earlier and his arm instantly found itself on your waist. You were still seething, your heavy breathing only calming down once Mikey’s hand curled a little more around you, pulling you flush against his side.

“Nothing. Let’s go,” you said softly to Mikey, letting him lead you back to the room.

Ran’s anger returned tenfold upon seeing your hand hold Mikey back. “Since when are you two such good friends?”

“That’s none of your damn business,” you yelled back from the end of the hallway, your grip around Mikey tightening significantly.

“Don’t tell me you’re fucking him now? What is he your new boy toy? You’re that desperate?” 

Kakucho slapped a hand on his forehead, regretting not pulling Ran away before he had the chance.

You froze at the door, turning to look at him. In the years of your friendship with Ran, he’d seen you get angry many times, yelling at characters in movies when they do something stupid, yelling at him over the mic when you were playing video games. And in every one of those instances, he was never on the receiving end of your anger. The look you gave him, if it could, would’ve turned him to stone with how irate you looked right now. Dimly, he knew what he was doing was wrong, and if he was sober enough he would've definitely stopped himself from saying those things, but he was hurt, and angry, and those two combinations had him feeling like he had a right to make you feel the same way.

“I’m sorry, what?” You stepped out of Mikey’s grip. “Oh this is fucking rich. The irony right now, holy shit!” You began laughing. “If what I’m doing is considered “desperate” to you, then what does that make you? Pathetic? Huh? Needing fifty girls attention on you every second of every fucking day doesn’t seem desperate to you?”

Your loud laughter began to draw people in the party towards the hallway, interested in the loud argument going on. Kakucho grabbed Ran’s arm, shaking his head as if he could read his thoughts. “Don’t respond. Let’s just go.”

Ran shoved his hand off him, sending Kakucho back against the wall. “Nah I’m gonna respond.” He turned back to you, uncaring of all the eyes watching the scene take place. “You stay bringing up these girls in every single conversation I have with you and shame them like you weren’t proud to be one of them months ago.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “So that’s all I was? A number to you? Enlighten me Ran, what number was I? 34? 52?”

“What fucking difference does it make if you know.”

“It makes no difference. I just want to hear you say it.” You closed the distance between you both and poked a finger into his chest. “I wanna hear you say that you enjoy ruining girls lives by making them fall for you with your shitty words and affection, then running away the second things get serious because you’re a coward afraid of stability.”

He pretended your words didn’t cut as deep as they did, pretended your words didn’t take him back to his mother’s birthday all those months ago, sitting at that table and listening to her spew hot garbage in his face about his personality and issues that he refused to acknowledge.

“That wasn’t the case with you. I didn’t tell you to fall for me.”

“That wasn’t the case? So I’m somehow different? How so?”

“Because—” Even in his drunken mind, he knew telling you he loved you now would only pull you further away than you already were. He pressed his lips in a thin line, and looked away from your oppressive stare. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Because your reasoning doesn’t exist, Ran. Stop searching for nothing. You’re a shitty person and you need to acknowledge that.” You pulled your finger away from his chest and turned around, lowering your voice to almost a whisper. “Now just stay out of my life.” 

He didn’t say anything and only watched you approach Mikey again, the man not even bothering to look at Ran the entire time as he took you inside the room, closing it shut. Ran’s ears were burning and his chest clenched as he realised the gravity of what he’d just done. So much for making amends. 

You went home and instantly blocked his number and cried yourself to sleep that night, regretting even messing with him to begin with.

~*~

“Are you sure this is safe?” you asked, looking around the strange alleyway surrounding you. 

“Don’t be a fucking wuss! Besides, I can fight remember? Nobody’s touching me tonight.”

“Yeah but…underground clubs are scary.”

“I know but that’s what makes this so exciting! Come on, let’s go!” She held your hand firm and tightly in her hand, giving you a reassurance squeeze that did nothing to help calm your raging nerves. 

“Imagine your brother finds you here tonight,” you laughed.

“Oh fuck. Takeomi would probably lock me in a house with no contact to the outside world for years,” Senju responded, shivering at the thought. She led you down the stairs and opened the janky door, leading you inside the club.

The rest of the night proceeded as follows, Senju getting drunk out of her mind; she nearly passed out on the floor from dancing too much, and you guarded the drinks, making sure nobody gets roofied tonight. This club was known for being shady, with drug transactions being held in the bathrooms of this place, and not just regular drugs, hardcore drugs. You had to use the bathroom and decided holding your pee in was much better than relieving yourself in a bathroom that had a woman passed out on the floor after taking too much drugs.

It was scary, and you had your guard up every second, and only felt relieved when you were carrying Senju outside, back through the alleyway to call for a taxi home. “It was soooooo much fun today. I loved it,” she slurred as you picked her up, struggling to hold her upright. 

“Yeah yeah I know. You told me this fifty times already,” you laughed lightly. “Come on, help me a little bit. I can’t carry you all the way, you’re too heavy!”

“I can’t feel my legs~”

“Oh for fucks sake.” You set her agaisnt the wall and caught your breath. You pulled out your phone and decided you had no other choice. You were calling her brother. 

“Who are you calling?” she asked after hearing the phone ring.

“Your brother.”

All traces of alcohol left her body as she practically screamed, “YOU’RE CALLING MY BROTHER?!”

“Relax! It’s Sanzu, not Takeomi. I considered Sanzu would be more understanding about this. It’s not like he and Omi are on speaking terms anymore.”

“Yeah but…”

“It’ll be okay, I promise,” you reassured her, patting her head.

“Hullloooo?” Sanzu’s voice rang through the speakers and you instantly perked up. 

“Sanzu! Hey! We kinda need your help right now.”

“‘M sorta busy right now. Is it urgent?”

“Senju’s kind of passed out right now and I need help taking her home. I can’t do it myself.”

“Senju’s WHAT?!” Takeomi’s voice boomed through the phone; Senju shivered in fear. 

“Sanzu! Why’d you put me on speaker phone you idiot!”

“So I can hear you better! Nothing’s wrong with that!”

You groaned and slapped a hand over your face, whispering sorry to Senju who looked like she was already planning her funeral. 

“Where are you guys right now?” Takeomi asked, sounding positively furious.

You gulped, Senju rapidly shaking her head no no no no. “We’re at this club…” you admitted, giving him the address.

“Wait, that club?” Sanzu perked up. “That place is like known for hardcore ass shit bro. Don’t tell me Senju took anything from there?”

“...she did.”

“Ah shit. Yeah, okay. Coming. It’s really close from here Takeomi. Don’t worry, lets’ go.” He turned his attention back to his phone. “You two. Stay right there—”

“You girls look pretty lonely by yourself.” The three of you froze as a deep voice spoke from behind you. You felt time pass in slow motion as you turned around to look at a guy waiting by the club’s backdoor. 

“We’re not lonely,” you said slowly. “Thanks for your concern though.”

Senju stood up on shaky legs and clutched onto your arms when she felt his stare on her body. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

“Who is that?” Sanzu asked from the phone.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back, clutching the phone tightly.

“Seriously don’t move. We’re heading out right now. All of us, okay?”

“Okay okay.” You had no clue who “all of us” meant, but you didn’t care, not when the guy slowly stepped away from the wall and began walking towards you both. You missed Sanzu calling for Ran to come in the car with them, your attention solely focused on this strange man in front of you.

“How old are you girls?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the shameless way he was gazing you both up and down.

“It’s none of your business,” Senju spat, slowly stepping back when he began walking forward. 

“It’s rude to not answer a question.”

“It’s even ruder to ask personal questions to strangers!”

“Senju, stop. You’re provoking him.” You squeezed her arm roughly, digging your nails into her arm.

“I don’t care! I hate men like him that think they’re entitled to us!”

“Men like me, huh? Go on, babe. Enlighten me on men like me.” 

“Senju just ignore him,” you whispered, panic filling you when you looked down at  your phone to see Sanzu had already hung up. “Sorry but we really have to get going,” you said to the man, bowing slightly before grabbing Senju’s hand and beginning to walk away from him.

You could hear his footsteps behind you and began walking faster until the point where you were running away towards the end of the alley. The end of the alley seemed so far away with how small your vision was as you panicked hearing him begin to run after you. Senju was a faster runner than you and grabbed your hand tightly, leading the way as you both bolted as fast as you could. 

“Stop running girls! I just wanna touch you!” he screamed out, laughing obnoxiously. He was clearly high on something.

Senju bumped into the chest of Takeomi at the end of the alley, and the man came to stop upon seeing Sanzu exit the car, a manic smile on his face.

“You wanna touch my sister huh?” Takeomi gritted out.

“Wow, uh I didn’t mean for—I didn’t know she was—” 

Sanzu walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think we should have a little chat, huh? Come with me.” He had this strangely friendly smile on his face that sent shivers down your spine. 

Your heart was beating out of your chest and you barely heard Takeomi telling you both to get in the car. He and Sanzu stayed behind and taught the man a lesson, and Senju slipped in the back, taking up all three seat as she laid down, exhausted.

You had no choice to sit in the front seat. The windows were tinted so you didn’t see Ran until you opened the door. You blinked uselessly at him, fingers tightening against the handle. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving your stupid ass, that’s what. Now get in.”

You swallowed whatever retort you had because he wasn’t lying, and as much as you shouldn’t a part of you felt relieved to see a familiar face after that incident. You slipped in the front seat and slammed the door behind you, putting your seatbelt on and looking straight ahead.

Ran got the order from Takeomi to take Senju home first and so he began driving towards the Akashi household. Senju was dead to the world in the backseat, drooling partially on the seat as the fatigue from running finally hit.The two of you sat in silence the entire ride, and Ran exited the car to put Senju inside once they arrived. He locked the door behind him and re-entered the car to see you facing the opposite way, staring out the window.

No other words were said as he dropped you back at your house, and you were surprised you both said nothing to each other the entire time. After sitting in silence outside your house for a while, Ran finally broke the silence.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Ran scolded. “What made you think coming to an underground club was a good fucking idea?”

“Oh sorry, I was just playing the role of the dumb desperate slut that can’t keep her legs closed. Sorry if I gave you a fright.”

“Listen to me,” he said sharply, making you snap your mouth shut. “You could’ve died tonight if we weren’t here tonight you know that? That place you went to, that’s not for girls like you. Not for girls like Senju either. I don’t know what fucking possessed you to be acting this fucking recklessly, but I just hope you know what you experienced tonight was a wake up call. You aren’t built for this goddamn lifestyle, so stop trying to act like you are.”

“...you’re right. I’m sorry, Ran.” You looked down at your lap when the tears started to drop from your eyes. “Tonight was so scary, I genuinely don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.”

Ran sighed and you kept sniffling as you heard his door open before slamming shut. You watched him round the car and open it on your end. “W-what are you—”

He carried you out of the car, your legs wrapping around his waist as he kicked the door closed behind him, walking up to your front door. He set you down on the ground and held his hand out. “Keys.”

You swallowed and reached inside your purse, pulling them out and into his hand. He unlocked your front door and once again carried you inside, locking the door behind you. He led you upstairs to your bedroom and set you down on your bed. 

You watched in confusion as he walked over to your chest of drawers and began searching for your pyjamas. Once in hand, he tossed them next to you on the bed, and then walked into your ensuite bathroom. You heard him turn the shower on.

“Get changed and come in here,” he said from the bathroom.

You stripped out from your dress and entered the bathroom, not even bothering to cover yourself in his presence, nothing he hasn’t seen before anyway. He was in the midst of taking his shirt off when you stepped into the shower, the warm water running down your body as you waited for him to join you.

You stared at your feet when he grabbed your soap, placing some on his hand before lavashing your body with soap, rubbing them along your arms and sides. 

“What are you doing Ran?” you finally asked as he bent down to wash your legs.

“What I should’ve done months ago.” His tone left no space for a remark from you, so you stayed silent and let him do what he had to you. Once you were washed clean, he turned the shower off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapped it around your body. “Go and get changed.”

“You need a towel too. I’ll go get one.” You quickly towelled yourself dry before stepping out, returning with an unused towel from your storage. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

You entered your bedroom and got changed into the clothes he picked out for you, then handed him some clothes of his you kept when he used to sleep over all those months ago. You sat on the bed and listened to him change. 

“Are you going to sleep over?” you asked, looking up at him.

“You want me to?”

You nodded slowly, getting into bed. He followed you, giving you some space as he laid down beside you. He had his back facing you, turned away from you and you frowned at the lack of attention.

“...Ran?” you tested, seeing if he was asleep or not.

“What?”

“Why don’t you want me?” you whispered, remembering the last time you were in your bed together. 

“Because I don’t deserve you,” he responded, voice flat and devoid of any emotion.

“Huh?” you asked, confused.

He turned around and looked at you, your eyes glossy with fresh tears. “I uh. I spoke to my mom a few months ago.” Your eyes widened, knowing the estranged relationship he has with her. Why didn’t he tell you this?

“I spoke to her and she uh, gave me a fucking reality check.”

“What did she say?” You shifted closer, close enough that you could see and finally notice the eyebags under his eyes, like he hasn’t had a good night sleep in time, which was strange for Ran as he savours sleep more than anything else in the world.

“A lot,” he sighed exhaustedly, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Said I was a lot like my old man. That was I was emotionally stunted, sadistic, and a downright shitty person.” His chuckle was so emotionless, you almost reached out and hugged him, but stayed still as he wasn’t finished talking. “Worst thing was she’s right. I can’t savour relationships for my fucking life and when I actually felt something for the first damn time, I fucked things up and ruined it. Nobody else did that. I did. I’m responsible for that shit. I don’t wanna bring you down and you deserve better than me, whether you wanna admit that shit or not.”

He took a moment and you were unsure if you should respond or not. When you were about to, he continued. 

“She told me I’d ruin your life if I pursed you. Told me I was being fucking selfish. Can you believe that shit? And you know what, I fucking believed her. I thought I would do that, that’s why I pushed you away. I wanted you all to myself which is why I continued sleeping with you, which was wrong of me I know, but you seemed happy which is why I didn’t think much of it. Then you had to go fuck with my goddamn head and tell me you wanted me too.”

“...sorry,” you whispered, feeling the breath sweep out from your lungs.

“It’s not your fault, dummy. It’s mine. I—In that moment I should’ve been selfish. I know I should’ve, and every fucking day I regret not doing that shit. But as usual I fucked things up again, then you were gone. I thought we could still be friends so I could at least see you again, but nope. You distanced yourself from me.”

Another tear fell from your eyes, wetting your pillow the longer you heard him talk. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising. You did the right thing. Keeping you as a friend would’ve been selfish of me. You clearly distanced yourself because you wanted to get over me, but I wanted you all for myself and wanted you in my life at all times, even if that wasn’t what you wanted. Once again, proving my ma right. I’m fucking selfish. Then that stupid party happened and just seeing you with Manjiro made me want to lose my shit. The fact that I wasn’t able to have you because as a guy living this type of lifestyle, it would be considered selfish. But yet Mikey was? How come he was allowed to be selfish and I wasn’t?”

“It’s not selfish Ran,” you finally got a word in. “I didn’t even like Mikey like that. We were just drunk and horny. I never dated him. In fact, I hadn’t dated anyone since I was with you. Nobody else made me feel the way you made me feel and it was selfish of me to want you when you didn’t want me back at that time. We’re allowed to be selfish Ran. Don’t let that stop you from getting what you want.”

Ran’s eyes were wide as he listened to you talk. When you finished, he shook his head. “My level of selfish and yours aren’t the same. In my world, if you’re vulnerable it can get you killed, or put in a bad situation where you have to take a live, or have yours taken. You don’t need to be involved in that. That’s why I can’t be selfish.”

“But—”

“No. Buts. Go find a nice accountant to date or whatever. You don’t need me tying your life down.”

You frowned. “I don’t want an accountant though.”

“Why not? You always said you wanted to marry rich.”

You shifted closer, flush against his. “I never said it had to be good money though.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He looked down at you. “You’re fucking crazy,” he said with a light laugh, and you were happy you were able to break the ice.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, pulling him closer till your noses touched. “You love it though.” 

“Damn right I do.”

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Heyy! Happy late Halloween 🎃 I looooveee your writing !! Could you do headcanons for how marauders would react if the reader could do legilimacy? They're muggleborn so they didn't think it was that big a deal bc they thougjg all wizards could do it and casually mention it

headcanons for marauders reacting to reader knowing legitimacy

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 tries to brush it off as if he’s totally unfazed, but internally, he's panicking.

➯His first instinct is denial—surely, you’re just perceptive, right? But as soon as you respond to something he hasn’t said out loud, he’s rattled.

➯He’ll keep "testing" you, thinking ridiculous things like "I bet you can’t hear this" on a loop, only to break into a fit of laughter when you answer with an exasperated eye-roll.

➯When he finally accepts that you can actually read his mind, he goes into full-blown soulmate mode, convinced this is destiny.

➯James decides he’s above needing to verbalize “I love you” and will start giving you overly dramatic, lovesick looks whenever he thinks it, just to see if you’ll respond.

James is deep in thought about a prank idea. You: “Exploding ink? You know McGonagall’s going to see right through that.” James: choking “H-how did you know that?” You: “Because you were thinking about it.” James: “No, seriously, who told you? Sirius?! Remus? Who's the traitor?” You: “None of them. Just your brain.” James stares at you with a mix of awe and panic. James: “Brilliant. Terrifying, but brilliant.”

𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 jumps out of his skin when you first respond to his thoughts, staring at you like you’ve just sprouted horns.

➯He immediately calls you a demon and insists you’re here to haunt him specifically, but secretly, he finds it oddly thrilling.

➯Within minutes, he’s running around thinking of the most absurd things he can just to throw you off, like mentally chanting "I am an irresistible god of charm" to see if you’ll break.

➯Over time, he gets used to it and will sometimes think cute things at you, but never admit it if you notice.

➯Deep down, though, he’s convinced your Legilimency is proof that you’re some kind of witchy soulmate sent from the beyond to torture him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sirius is debating in his head whether he should wear his leather jacket to breakfast. You: “Leather jacket? Again?” Sirius: whipping around “What?! I didn’t say anything!” You: smirking “You didn’t have to.” Sirius: “I’m being haunted. This is it. You’re a witchy ghost sent to expose my every cool thought.” You: “What cool thoughts?” Sirius gasps dramatically. Sirius: “Betrayed by my own mind!”

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬, initially skeptical, quickly connects the dots when you casually respond to one of his unspoken worries.

➯His brain goes straight to over-analysis, and he spirals just a bit, convinced you’re both a prodigy and incredibly dangerous.

➯While he finds it fascinating, he's low-key embarrassed every time you catch his stray thoughts—he didn't mean for you to hear that, really!

➯He starts to watch his thoughts around you, editing his internal monologue as if he’s writing an essay for you to "read."

➯Every now and then, he’ll test the limits by thinking random trivia or book recommendations at you, silently thrilled every time you respond.

➯He’s careful but secretly loves that you can understand him on this completely new level.

Remus is mentally debating whether he should get more coffee or just stick with tea. You: “Coffee.” Remus: startles “I—pardon?” You: “Just get the coffee, Remus. You’re going to regret the tea halfway through.” Remus: nervously laughing “Are… are you reading my mind?” You: “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫, the most openly freaked out, will start squinting at you like you’re the strangest creature he’s ever seen.

➯For days, he’s looking over his shoulder, convinced you’re pulling pranks on him somehow.

➯Every time you respond to his thoughts, he jolts and gives you a suspicious look, half-afraid and half-impressed.

➯It only takes one incident of you responding to something he really didn’t want to say out loud for him to become almost paranoid.

➯After a while, though, he’ll start to use it to his advantage, asking for silent reassurance when he's worried or seeking encouragement without having to say it—though he’ll always look a bit jittery when you respond, as if he still can’t quite believe it.

Peter is internally freaking out about his Potions essay, wondering if he should ask you for help. You: “I’ll help you with Potions later, don’t worry.” Peter: jumps “How did you…?” You: “You looked like you needed it.” Peter: “But… I didn’t… I didn’t even look at you!” You: “You don’t have to.” Peter stares at you, eyes wide, before finally mumbling. Peter: “...are you like… always in there?” You: grinning “Only sometimes.”

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

This is a really specific request so it's absolutely fine if you don't feel comfortable doing it but protective Liam standing up for his autistic gf to her dad or older man family member who keeps being willfully ignorant and making comments

Support||Liam Lawson x fem!autistic!reader

Word count—769

Liam’s patience finally snapped as the older man—her father—leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smug look on his face. The latest comment had been the tipping point.

“I just don’t get why everything has to be so complicated with you,” her father said, his voice dripping with condescension. “You make a big deal out of nothing, and it’s like… people walk on eggshells around you. Life doesn’t work like that.”

Liam glanced at his girlfriend, who sat rigidly beside him. Her eyes were fixed on her lap, her fingers twisting anxiously around the hem of her shirt. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was trying to shrink into herself, and it made his blood boil.

“Enough,” Liam said, his voice firm and steady.

Her father raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I said enough,” Liam repeated, standing. “This isn’t okay. And it hasn’t been okay for a long time.”

Her father leaned forward, clearly affronted. “Listen, young man—”

“No, you listen,” Liam cut him off, his tone sharp but controlled. “I’ve sat here all night listening to you talk down to her, dismiss her feelings, and act like her autism is some kind of inconvenience for you. And I’m done with it.”

Her father blinked, clearly unused to being challenged. “I’m not being dismissive. I’m just saying she makes things harder than they need to be. Back in my day, people didn’t have all these labels. We just got on with life.”

Liam let out a short, humorless laugh. “Right. And how’s that working out for you? Ignoring reality doesn’t make it go away. It just makes you blind to it. Autism isn’t a ‘label.’ It’s part of who she is. And what you call ‘making things harder’ is just her trying to exist in a world that wasn’t built for people like her.”

“She’s fine,” her father said dismissively. “She just needs to toughen up.”

Liam’s voice rose, his frustration spilling out. “She’s already tougher than you’ll ever understand! Do you have any idea how much courage it takes for her to face people like you every day? To advocate for herself when people constantly dismiss her? You’re supposed to be her family. You’re supposed to support her. And instead, you make her feel small.”

“Liam…” his girlfriend murmured, tugging at his arm. Her voice was quiet, but there was a waver in it that broke his heart.

He turned to her, his expression softening. “No, you don’t deserve this,” he said gently but firmly. “You’ve been putting up with this for too long, and it’s not fair to you.”

Her father threw up his hands. “Oh, come on. I’m her father. I know her better than you do. She’s just being dramatic.”

Liam’s jaw tightened, and he turned back to the older man. “You don’t know her better than she knows herself. And if you think this is ‘dramatic,’ then you haven’t been paying attention. She’s told you what she needs. She’s told you how to support her. And every time, you’ve ignored it. Do you have any idea how much that hurts her? How much that undermines her?”

Her father opened his mouth, but Liam didn’t let him speak. “You think you’re the authority on her life because you’re her dad? You’re not. She is. And it’s about time you started listening to her instead of dismissing everything she says. Because if you keep this up, you’re going to lose her.”

The words hit like a hammer, and her father’s bravado faltered. For a moment, he looked genuinely unsure of himself.

“She’s not asking for anything unreasonable,” Liam continued, his voice quieter now but still firm. “She just wants to be understood. Respected. Loved for who she is, not who you think she should be. That’s not coddling. That’s what family is supposed to do.”

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the sound of his girlfriend taking a shaky breath. She looked up at Liam, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Liam turned back to her father, his tone softening just slightly. “You still have a chance to fix this. But it starts with you admitting that you’ve been wrong. And it starts with you trying. Really trying.”

Her father looked down at his hands, clearly uncomfortable. For the first time that evening, he seemed to be grappling with Liam’s words.

Liam reached for his girlfriend’s hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “You’re not alone in this,” he said to her softly, his voice filled with quiet determination. “Not anymore.”

[augustinewrites]

“you look lovely.”

the moment alhaitham says it, he knows it’s a mistake.

“thank you,” you reply a little tersely, gaze flicking to the group of nosy onlookers at his side before you excuse yourself and join nilou at a table across the tavern.

“what was that?” kaveh immediately questions, because the man is incapable of leaving anything unsaid. especially not after three glasses of wine. 

“it was a compliment,” he enunciates, as if he were talking to a particularly stupid animal. “i was simply being friendly.”

“you’re not friendly,” cyno scoffs, accusation filling the booth. “you hardly bother with being polite.” 

cyno isn’t wrong, because it’s no secret that alhaitham finds most people exhausting. he doesn’t willingly participate in idle chit-chat or schmooze for academic or political gain, like most of his colleagues. 

“it’s quite presumptuous of you to imply that i go out of my way to be unkind.” 

he just won’t go out of his way to make others feel good about themselves either. not when it was unprompted. people who talked just to fill space were annoying, and doing so just to be social was not one of life’s necessities. 

yet…he’s slipped up, and his friends are realizing that you’re the exception. 

“it’s not presumptuous at all,” kaveh argues rather dramatically. “you never even compliment me!”

“maybe i’m saving your compliment for when you move out of my house.” 

tighnari, ever the mediator, cuts in before kaveh can throw his glass of wine at his roommate. “okay, that’s enough. we all know where this is going.” 

kaveh turns his head with a huff that carries too much attitude for someone who hasn’t paid his half of the rent yet. alhaitham, being the bigger person, chooses not to say that, though. “i don’t understand why you’re all making such a big fuss about this.” 

“well, you weren’t just being unusually nice. you were also flirting,” tighnari said flatly. 

now, this is where things got complicated. he could easily annoy or gaslight - for lack of a better term - kaveh into dropping it. he could also bore cyno into leaving with a deeply boring dissertation on his disinclination for social interaction. 

but tighnari was a lot more perceptive and patient than people gave him credit for. “you did it last week too, when you called her elemental healing techniques extraordinary.” 

alhaitham had done that, and he’d forgotten that tighnari had also been at the bimarstan to discuss antitoxins with you. 

deflection seems to be the only correct way to settle this manner. “to assume that a man’s admiration of a woman’s skill can only stem from underlying romantic feelings is incredibly ignorant.”

“of course,” the forest watcher agrees. “but it’s clear to anyone with eyes that you do have underlying romantic feelings for—”

“are we going to sit around and speculate all night? or are we going to play cards?” the scribe interrupts. 

cyno and kaveh exchange a glance, and the look on tighnari’s face can only be described as smug. it’s not everyday that a haravatat scholar is bested in a verbal debate. 

_____

and if he ends up at your place later that night…well, that’s completely arbitrary. 

“you’re so obvious,” you huff, your hands yanking the hem of his shirt from his pants. “your friends were right there!”

his lips curve against your skin as he kisses up your neck. “so?”

“we’re supposed to keep this a se—”

he’s much too fast for you, moving up to press his mouth to yours, lips parting to deepen the kiss. 

yeah, yeah, he knows that you’re right and that fraternizing is frowned upon in the akademiya, but what can he say?

he just loves you a lot.

[corroded-hellfire]

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 3

This was a collaboration with my dear @munson-blurbs!

Summary: Eddie knows he hasn’t gone about things as he should have, so he’s determined to make things better—for everyone. You can read part two here.

Note: Thank you everyone for your kind words and hilarious messages! Seeing what you all have to say about this series truly makes my day.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), breeding kink, spanking, oral f!receiving, I think that’s it?

Words: 10.8k

[All stories in this verse]

"I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as—”

BZZZT!

The apartment buzzer rings, startling you from your When Harry Met Sally trance. You’d nearly dropped your bowl of cookie dough ice cream. 

“I’ll answer it,” your roommate calls out, padding across the living room. You muster up a smile as a silent thanks; you just don’t have the mental energy to face another human being right now. 

“Who is it?” Jess asks, speaking into the intercom on the wall. 

“It’s me. Um, it’s Eddie.” His voice makes your stomach drop into your feet as you violently shake your head no. You’d filled Jess in on what had happened over the weekend, and she certainly wasn’t on Eddie’s side. 

Sure enough, a scowl crosses her face. “Why don’t you fuck off, Eddie?” she sneers. 

“Yeah, so, I’ll do that,” he mumbles, “but I just need to drop something off. Please.” He sounds so pathetic. Good. 

Jess looks over at you for your reaction. “I don’t want anything from him,” you mutter, snuggling deeper into your fuzzy blanket. “Tell him to go away.”

She nods, pressing on the intercom again. “Denied.” She starts to walk away, but Eddie’s pleas stop her in her tracks. 

“Look, I know I fucked up big time. And I’m so sorry. I never should have dragged her into this; gotten her caught up in my bullshit. I was…I was a coward, okay? A goddamn coward. But I’m done avoiding fixing my mistakes. Because when I tried to run from my problems, I hurt the best girl I know. And I want—need her to know that I’ll prove how much she means to me, if she’ll let me.”

Jess turns to you, her eyes wide and slightly misty, obviously moved by Eddie’s words. She puts her hand over her heart and inclines her head towards you, silently asking if you’ve changed your mind. And it’s tempting. How many times did you fantasize about Eddie making some big dramatic declaration about how much he cares for you? But you’re scared. Scared this is some sort of false hope. That you’ll let yourself be ensnared by his spell and let yourself get hurt again and again. You’ve never had fear like this before and it’s as if your body and mind just want to shut down.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I-I don’t want to see him.” 

Now Jess goes from moved to annoyed. She plants her hands on her hips and takes a few steps closer to where you’re curled up on the old floral couch. “Are you kidding me right now? I’ve listened to you sing the praises of this man for a year now. How sweet and kind and wonderful he is. Listened to you say over and over again how much you love him and how if you had him, you’d never take him for granted like his crazy bitch of a wife does.” She flings her hand toward the front door. “Well? He’s here. Trying to apologize for what he’s put you through. You even said yourself when you came home crying the other day that you know he cares about you. So why don’t you at least hear him out?” 

“I don’t want to see him,” you say in a small voice. Sniffling, you shrug your shoulders. “You’ve never seen his eyes.” You shake your head, gaze dropping to your lap. “He has this puppy dog look about him and I know if I see it, I’ll cave no matter what he says.”

“So, go in your room,” Jess says. “I’ll let him up, drop whatever he wants to drop off, let him say his peace. And you can just listen.”

Heaving a sigh, you snatch up the remote and press the pause button. Tossing the blanket from your lap, you stand and make the few steps into your room and shut the door. Jess scurries back over to the intercom, hoping he hasn’t left yet.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah! Yeah, still here.” The hope is clear in his voice as he realizes he hasn’t been ignored completely. 

“Come on up.”

Eddie wastes no time, pulling the door open as soon as Jess presses the button, taking the stairs two at a time and making his way to apartment 217. The sound of his knuckles rapping on the door reaches you in your bedroom and you wrap your arms around your body, mentally preparing yourself to listen to what he has to say. 

“She’s in her room,” you hear Jess tell him. “You can talk through the door. And what have you got to drop off?”

There’s silence except for Eddie’s footsteps and the curiosity of what he’s brought burns in your brain. As his footsteps come right up to the other side of your door, there’s a buzzing in your stomach.

“C-Can you hear me?” Eddie asks.

“Yes,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. Just the sound of his voice so near has you longing to throw the door open and jump into his arms. You’ve never felt as safe in your life as you did when he was hugging you. 

“I, um.” Eddie clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, sweethea—I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. What are you…” Eddie trails off and your eyebrows pinch in concern. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jess says, loudly enough that you know she’s standing next to Eddie. “But you should read this.” There’s a slide against the hardwood of your floor and you look down to see a little white rectangle slip under your door. It’s a business card, you realize as you pick it up. 

Carl Hampton, Esquire

Divorce Attorney

“Turn it over,” Jess says. 

It’s not enough for you to be mine, so I’m taking the first step towards being yours - Eddie

The tears start immediately. Even as you read the note in Eddie’s scrawling handwriting over and over again, your vision goes a little bit blurrier each time. Your hand trembles as you hold the card, the other going up to cover your mouth. Even though you think you’ve been quiet as your crying grows to sobs, you must be louder than you realize.

“Okay, she’s crying,” Eddie says, clearly talking to Jess. 

“Let me go in,” Jess says, but when she cracks the door open you catch sight of Eddie. He’s distorted and fuzzy through your tears, but you’d know that mass of curls anywhere. Jess has just enough time to jump out of the way as you launch yourself into his arms, not sure if this means you forgive him or not, but just knowing you need to be held by him. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says as he clutches you against his body. “Shhh, it’s okay.” One of his arms is wrapped securely around your waist while his hand on the other comes up to smooth over your hair. “You’re okay.”

Jess sidesteps the two of you embracing, so she can head back into the living room; just far enough to be out of the way but close enough to hear everything. 

Eddie’s touch manages, as always, to calm you down. Something about his entire being makes you feel seen and understood. It’s been that way since day one with him. When you’ve calmed enough that you think you could talk without Jess acting as an interpreter, you pull away from Eddie and wipe your tear streaked face off on the sleeves of your sweatshirt. 

“Eddie, please don’t break up your family for me.”

“Baby,” he slips up with the pet name, but neither of you says anything. “I’m just doing what I should’ve done ages ago. I never should have put you in this position.” Eddie aches to bring his hands up to your face, but he doesn’t want to overstep what you’re comfortable with. It’s killing him to see you visibly upset, knowing he caused it, and just holding you wouldn’t solve anything. 

You nod your head at his words. Some of the pain is starting to ease and you feel like you can breathe properly for the first time in days. You’d told Eddie you just wanted to see him doing something; taking a step in the right direction. And this was a pretty damn good step to take. “You’ve called this guy?”

“No, I didn’t call him. I spent all morning at his office,” Eddie says, and your head snaps up to meet his eyes. “I’ve done everything I have to for the process to begin. Now they work on whatever legal bullshit they’ve got to do, I guess.”

But there’s something else that’s been eating at you. Yes, Eddie should’ve divorced Brittany a long time ago. But now that he’s finally doing it, does he really want to jump from one relationship to another? “Are you sure you want this? You don’t want to stay single for a while? Because I’ll under—”

Eddie caves and brings his hands up to your face, leaning in to press his lips firmly against yours, trying to convey all the love and fondness he can through one kiss. 

“I love you,” Eddie says once he’s pulled away. “And you don’t have to say it back if you don’t feel it, but I needed to tell you. I fucking love you.”

There’s never been so much confusion in your heart before. Eddie loves you. The thought can’t seem to sink in. Eddie loves me. You know wholeheartedly that you reciprocate the feeling. You’ve known that you love him for a long time. But there’s still so much fear. It’s dampening the excitement of his declaration.

“I—I’m afraid,” you murmur, eyes unable to meet his. 

Eddie frowns, taking your chin in his hand and tilting it slightly upwards. “Am I that mean and scary?” There’s some humor behind his words, but they’re tinged with concern. 

“No.” You shake your head. “I’m afraid that if I say it back and it—it makes it real, it’ll hurt even more if…” You can’t even finish the sentence without choking up. 

“Hey, hey,” Eddie presses his lips to yours. “It’s okay. I get it. Baby, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, too. I mean, an old man like me getting involved with a total knockout like you? Beauty and brains?” He chuckles. “Let’s face it, pretty girl. I have a lot more to lose than you do.”

“I…I…” you hesitate, trying to muster up an ounce of courage. “I can’t do this, Eddie.” You gently press the business card back into his palm. “I can’t be in love with someone who’s married.” Your eyes widen as you come to a realization that makes you sick. “The boys…they’ll know I’m the reason that their parents split up.” You imagine their sweet, innocent faces blotchy with tears as they tell you they hate you. 

Eddie’s posture goes tense, and he almost sounds angry as he says, “Absolutely not. You gave me the courage to file, but my marriage was over long before this.” Your lips brush together in a series of chaste kisses. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He rests his nose on yours; the saltiness of his own tears mixing with yours as they seep into your tongue. 

“I think we need to wait,” you blurt out, words tumbling from your mouth before you can think them through. “Until Brittany knows that you’ve filed, and you’ve talked about it with the kids.” It’s painful to push him away, but it’ll hurt worse if you continue this and he decides not to follow through with the divorce. 

Eddie looks crushed, like he was hoping to sweep you off your feet and make love to you right then and there. “Right, yeah. That makes sense.” He sniffles, trying to will away the sting of your rejection. “When that happens, we can finally be together?”

“If that’s what we both want.”

“Baby, I’ll never stop wanting you.” He’s so tempted to pull you into him and leave harsh, bruising kisses down your jawline, claiming you as his. “I’ll wait as long as you need.”

You just nod, twiddling your thumbs to keep yourself from intertwining your fingers with his. “Do you still want me to watch the boys?” you ask shyly, cheeks burning at the ridiculousness of the question. “Because I get it if—”

“If it’s okay with you. We’d—they’d—really miss you if you just up and left.” I’d miss you most of all, he thinks, but keeps it buttoned up inside. 

“Yeah,” you concede, stepping back towards your bed. “I’ll see you all later, then.”

You’re about to close the door when you hear him say, “Wait.” He steps closer to you, business card between his pointer and middle fingers. “Hold onto this f’me, please?”

You initially hesitate before accepting the card again. “Okay.”

“Never want you to forget how I feel about you,” Eddie says, placing one last kiss on your cheek before he’s out the door, leaving you in a spiral of your own racing thoughts. 

As soon as Jess hears his footsteps disappear down the hall, she’s in your room. “I don’t normally tell you what to do,” she murmurs, rubbing small circles on your back, “but if you don’t marry this man, I will.”

You give her a playful nudge as you rest your head on her shoulder. “He’s gotta get un-married first,” you remind her—and yourself—bitterly. 

After the conversation you had with Eddie earlier in the day, you’re a little worried things will be awkward when you pick Luke and Ryan up from school. But thankfully, they’re the same happy kids you know and love, and not a thing is different with them. It’s almost time for Eddie to come home when the three of you are finishing up a game of Candyland. Luke kept getting caught in the Molasses Swamp, so he huffs as you enlist their help in cleaning up the board and pieces. When the little boy stomps down the hall to put the game away, Ryan looks up at you. You give him a smile and his gaze shifts back to his lap. He glances back up at you and the unusual behavior makes you frown.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask.

“Why were you sad?” he asks, voice soft.

Frowning, you move some hair off of his forehead. “What do you mean?”

“On Saturday. You were talking with Daddy and then you got really sad and left. You didn’t even come say hi.” His sad brown eyes look so much like his father’s that it brings you back to when Eddie gave you the same look this morning. 

“I didn’t know you saw me.” You pause, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. You’re not sure if Eddie had already said anything about it or not and you don’t want to contradict any explanation he might have given the kids. “Um, well, I was having a bad day. Do you ever have a day where you just don’t feel very happy?” Ryan nods. “That’s what it was. And I didn’t want to make you or Luke sad too, so that’s why I didn’t say hi.”

“Oh,” Ryan says, nodding his head. “Are you still sad?”

“Not as much,” you tell him truthfully. “Just a little.”

His little hand comes over and takes yours. “I don’t want you to be sad. You know what Daddy tells me when I get sad? That he loves me. And I love you. So, I’m telling you that.”

The smile that comes to your face is reflexive. Ryan is such a sweet boy, and you can’t imagine what your life would be like without him. You lean in and press a kiss to his hair, mumbling against it. “Seems to be a trend with the Munson boys today.”

“What?” Ryan asks.

“I love you, too,” you tell him, squeezing his hand gently. “You made me feel better.”

“Good!” A smile lights up his face and you wonder how this kid became so sweet despite having a mother like he does. Then the obvious answer hits you: Eddie’s his dad. Sweet, kind, means-well-but-sometimes-fucks-it-up Eddie.

You’re jostled from your thoughts by the sound of a key turning in the lock. Eddie hustles in, giving you a small smile.

“Hi,” he says simply, waiting for your response to see how he should proceed. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his coveralls.

“Hi.” You stand up and return his smile. “The boys were great today, as always.” You rest your palm on Ryan’s shoulder as he gives his dad a grin, showing off the gaps where his missing teeth are.

“We played Candyland, and I won,” he proudly reports. “And then I used your cheer-up trick! You know, when you tell someone you love that you love them.”

“Oh?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow. “Luke was that upset about losing?”

You shake your head. “No–well, yes,” you chuckle softly. “But he was talking about me. He saw that I was sad on Saturday and wanted to make me feel better.”

A wider smile spreads across Eddie’s face. “You’re a thoughtful kid, you know that?” he tells his oldest son, who doesn’t quite understand the concept of rhetorical questions.

“I know.” His candid demeanor makes you and Eddie laugh, and Ryan sprints to his brother’s room to announce that their dad is home.

You reach for your jacket, eager to leave before you’re tempted to talk to Eddie. Because you know precisely where that will lead.

“Hey, um,” Eddie digs into his pocket and pulls out more bills than usual from his wallet. “I’m gonna tell her tonight. Figured that’d go over better than just having her served.” He hands you your salary plus two extra twenties. “Could you take the boys out for dinner? Could just be McDonald’s or somethin’.”

You swallow thickly as you accept the money. “Y-Yeah,” you stammer, “how long will you need?”

“Give us an hour?” he shrugs. “Don’t think it’ll take that long; she’ll probably yell for a few minutes and then leave. But just in case she decides to stick around and scream for a while.” His chocolate brown eyes meet yours, making you shiver. “Thank you, baby–I mean, thank you. For, um, for everything.”

“Of course,” you nod. There’s a beat of awkward silence before you say, “I’ll go tell Luke and Ryan. They’ll probably be excited to have a Happy Meal.”

Eddie bites his lower lip as he watches you walk away. It’s going to be the hardest conversation of his life, but knowing it’ll bring you back to him makes it worth it.

Brittany comes home after you’ve already left with the kids, thankfully. Eddie’s waiting at the kitchen table, hands folded in front of him and knee bouncing up and down in nervousness. Brittany hangs up her coat and pauses as she passes the kitchen, raising an eyebrow as she sees her husband sitting there. 

“Um, hi?” she says.

“Hi, um.” Eddie kicks out the seat across from him at the table. “Can you sit? I need to talk to you about something.”

To his complete shock, she complies. “Where are the boys?”

“Uh, out to dinner. I needed to talk to you. Alone.”

“Okay.” Brittany crosses her arms over her chest before her face contorts in a sneer. “Wait. Is that little whore pregnant?”

Eddie bangs his palm against the table before pointing a finger at her. “Don’t you fucking call her that.” He takes a moment to compose himself, then a small smile creeps on his face as he thinks about the question. At the very thought of you having his baby.

“Holy shit, she is!” Brittany shouts.

“Oh, calm down!” Eddie rolls his eyes and motions for her to relax. “She’s not.”

“What’s with that dopey grin then, huh?” She spits the words at him, venom lacing every syllable. 

“Honestly? Cause the thought of her having my baby makes me really fucking happy. But that’s not—.”

“Ugh!” Brittany screeches. “What is wrong with you? I am your wife. Me! Remember? The one you promised yourself to?”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, a hand slapping against his chest. “You’re actually serious? Really, Britt? You realize you’re the one who broke the vows first, remember? Years and years ago. So, you don’t get to act all high and mighty here.” Eddie licks over his lips, shaking his head. “You’re right, technically. You are my wife.” Not for long, he thinks to himself. “But we’ve been over a long time.”

“Just because you’ve decided it?” She arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. 

“Because you stepped out and stopped giving a shit about me.” Eddie holds his hands up. “I’m getting off track. Listen, I saw a lawyer today.”

“Why?” she snaps.

“I filed for divorce.” No sugar coating it. No beating around the bush. This shitshow of a marriage has already taken up too much of Eddie’s time. “And don’t blame her for it, because all she did was give me the courage to do what I should’ve done ages ago.” His eyes are blazing. “You only kept me around so you could pretend to have this perfect little life: husband, kids, house in the suburbs. Or maybe because you get some sick pleasure from stringing me along while you sleep with half the town.” That last part is probably a step too far, but he doesn’t care.

Brittany scoffs incredulously. “Fine, Eddie. You two enjoy your Barbie Dreamhouse life together. The boys and I will manage without you.” She starts to stand up, but she’s drawn back by a loud guffaw from Eddie. “What?”

“Do you really think they’re gonna want to live with you? Do you even know what goddamn grade they’re in? What they want to be when they grow up?” He watches her face fall. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought. And you know the saddest part? They know it, too. They know that their own mother doesn’t give a shit about them.” He wipes a tear from his cheek. “I bet you know every last detail about your boyfriends, though. You and your fucked up priorities.”

Brittany’s expression turns from shock to rage. “Get. Out.” she seethes, gritting her teeth. “Go stay with your girlfriend, since you love her so much.” She’s crying, too, but because she’s losing the argument, not because she’s losing her husband.

“You’re gonna wake up with them and get them ready for school in the morning? Tell me; what do they eat for breakfast?” He laughs tersely at her silence. “That’s what I thought.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m staying here. For Ryan and Luke.” His voice softens slightly. “You can stay here, too, until we sort this shit out.”

Brittany doesn’t take him up on his offer; instead, she storms out of the room and into the bedroom. She starts tossing clothes into a duffel bag, zipping it up and tossing it over her shoulder. “I’ll be back tomorrow after they go to school to get the rest of my things.”

She slams the screen door behind her, and Eddie hears her car start up and peel out of the driveway. He allows himself to sob, mourning the life he’d once had. But he still has his boys; his incredible, gentle, loving sons. 

And if he plays his cards right, he has you, too.

Eddie finally drags himself from the kitchen table to the bathroom where he washes his face. It’s all red and splotchy from the crying, and the tears are sticky on his skin. As he’s toweling himself off, the bathroom light glints off his golden wedding ring, reflecting in the mirror above the sink. Eddie sets the soft towel down and stares at his left hand. He should be upset about taking it off, he thinks. But as he slips it off his finger all he feels is immense relief. It’s as if the ring weighed a ton and now without it, he feels light as a feather. Walking into his room, he pulls open his bedside table and drops the ring inside. He’ll have to think of something to do with it, but for now, it’s fine lying in the dusty old drawer. 

The front door opens, and two loud voices echo back to the master bedroom. Rubbing his hands over his face one last time, Eddie heads out to greet his family.

“Daddy!” Luke calls when he sees him. “Look! I got a race car toy!”

“Wow,” Eddie says, taking the small blue car from his son. He looks it over and nods his head appreciatively. “This looks like something I’d want to work on in the garage.”

Luke giggles and takes the toy back, happily going over to the coffee table which he pretends is a road for his new car to drive over. 

“Hi, Dad! Bye, Dad!” Ryan runs towards the bathroom, making Eddie chuckle.

“Wasn’t sure he was going to make it home,” you say. Eddie slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans and gives you a small smile. His eyes catch on the chocolate shake in your hands, and you hold it out to him. “Got you this. Thought you might need it.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says as he accepts the treat. 

“How’d it go?” you ask.

Eddie heaves a sigh and shakes his head. “Pretty much how I expected it to. She left for the night—went God knows where. Says she’ll be back tomorrow for her things.”

As tense as things are between you and Eddie, you can’t help but step forward and place a comforting hand on his shoulder, rubbing over the thin material of his t-shirt. “I’m sorry. I can't imagine how hard it was for you.”

“The conversation? Yeah. Doing it? Nah. That wasn’t hard,” he says with a shrug. “How were the boys?”

You both know they were fine, but you take the hint that Eddie doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. He lifts the shake to his mouth and your eyes catch on his hand. At the bare ring finger. The sight makes your tummy do a weird flip that you’re not sure how to interpret. 

“They—They were fine. Good,” you say. “I, um, I should go now. Jess is probably wondering where I am.” You grab your keys and head for the door. 

“Wait!” Eddie calls out, a bit louder than he’d meant to. “Sorry. I just wanted you to know that there’s no time limit on…on us. I mean, if it’s a definite no, I’ll shut up and leave you alone...”

“Eddie,” you smile, more genuinely than before. “You’ve never shut up before, and I don’t expect you to start now.”

“You know what I mean though, right?”

“I do,” you agree. “And I need time to think, but it’s…we’re not off the table.”

Eddie grins; he has to stop himself from picking you up and spinning you around in celebration. “I can live with that,” he says finally. 

“You’d better.”

Sure enough, Brittany comes back the next morning to pack more of her clothes. She briefly kisses Luke and Ryan hello, shooting a glare at Eddie that could kill.

“I’m giving you until Friday to move out,” she snarls once the boys are out of earshot. “We can figure out custody shit with the lawyer, but I think it’s best for them to be in the house for now. With me,” she adds pointedly.

Eddie sighs, exhausted from just the prospect of arguing. “Fine,” he concedes, “but just because I’m moving out doesn’t mean I’m not gonna fight like hell for them.” He zips up his coveralls and calls out for the kids to put their shoes on before they miss the bus.

“Whatever, Eddie,” Brittany rolls her eyes, slipping on her blazer and her nametag. “You know they won’t take kids from their mom. You’ll just get every other weekend like the rest of the loser dads.” 

Eddie takes the week to pack up his things, a pit in his stomach as he gets to the photos on his nightstand. The one of him and Brittany can go in the trash, but his heart pangs at the framed picture of his boys. The thought of waking up in the morning without them right down the hall is enough to make him cry.

“No,” he tells himself, “I’m gonna get custody of them. Full custody.” He can picture a new little home with you, Luke, and Ryan. And maybe another baby Munson or two, if you’re willing.

He makes plans with Steve to stay with him and his family, but on Friday morning, an exasperated phone call thwarts his plans.

“Hey, Munson,” Steve coughs into the phone, and Eddie winces when he hears how sick his friend sounds. “The whole Harrington bunch has the flu. It’s like an infirmary here.” He laughs softly, resulting in another round of hacking coughs. “I don’t think we’re quite up for visitors right now. I’m sorry, man.”

“S’okay,” Eddie grumbles. “Feel better.” He doesn’t have time to figure out new plans before he has to get to work, so he’ll just have to brainstorm through his oil changes today. 

When you pick the kids up from school that afternoon, you immediately notice how quiet both boys are—especially Ryan. You’re almost positive you know the reason why, but you debate with yourself the whole ride back to the house if you should say anything. 

Luke seems to be in a better mood once he gets a snack in him. He sits on the couch, little legs tucked up underneath his body as he munches on graham crackers and watches Scooby Doo. Ryan is still noticeably glum though, sitting at the kitchen table, his finger tracing random patterns on the green tabletop. 

“Hey,” you say, taking the seat next to him. There’s no way you can just stand by and see this sweet boy feel so lousy. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? If something is bothering you or is on your mind. Anything.”

Ryan nods his head, and you think he’s going to stay silent. But after a few moments he lifts his head up towards you, his large brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t want to live here with Mom.”

It’s not what you expected to come out of his mouth. Any variation of “mom and daddy are breaking up” is what you thought you were going to hear. 

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

Ryan sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Any other time you’d correct him for it, but the least you could do is let it pass. 

“Daddy said Mom is staying here and Luke and I can’t come with him yet. He’s going to stay with Uncle Steve and it’s not fair because I know they have a big house and I’m little enough to share a room with Daddy. But he said me or Luke can’t.” 

Releasing a sigh, you wrap your arm around Ryan’s shoulders. It’s times like these where you don’t feel like the adult you legally have been for years. When you were a kid you thought adults always knew the right thing to say. Now you know that’s bullshit. 

“Oh, Ryan.” You press a kiss to the top of his head. “You know Daddy would give anything to have you both with him, don’t you? You know how much he loves you.”

“More than Mom does,” Ryan says matter-of-factly. It breaks your heart that he knows that at only seven years old. And you can’t bring yourself to lie to the boy by refuting the claim. 

“Daddy loves you so much,” you reiterate. “And I love you.”

“Hey,” Ryan says with a small smile. “You used Daddy’s trick, too.” 

“Look at that,” you say. “And I didn’t even mean to. I was just telling you the truth about how much I love you.” You pull him into a hug, and he climbs in your lap. The only other time he’s done this before was when he was sick, so you know he desperately needs the comfort. “Hey, I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay.” Cradling him against your body, you rest your head on top of his. 

By the time Eddie gets home, both of the boys are crashed on the couch with you, one tucked on either side as Toy Story plays on the television. Their father looks wrung out as he steps inside, bags under his eyes and exhaustion worn into lines on his face. Both boys jump up and run to him like normal, but the way they cling to him this time is more desperate and needy. It brings a stinging pressure behind your eyes, and you have to blink it away.

“Hey!” Eddie says, attempting to be cheerful for them. “There’s my boys! How was your day?”

“Okay,” Ryan says at the same time that Luke shrugs. Eddie kisses both of their heads before unzipping his coveralls and giving you a small, weary smile. 

You’re not sure why, but you get the urge to stand up and follow Eddie down the hallway. He raises an eyebrow when you follow him into his room. Your eyes take in the boxes around the cleared-out space before looking back to him.

“Are you okay?” 

“Uh,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Hanging in there, I guess.” He sighs and runs a hand down his face. “Gotta blow some cash on a hotel though ‘cause the Harrington clan got the flu.” 

You frown at that. The offer is on the tip of your tongue, but you take a moment to consider it. Is it a good idea? Sure, the tension has eased a bit between the two of you over the course of the week, but it’s still there. It’s not that you feel awkward around him, exactly, it’s more of a yearning that you’re trying to keep in check. But you still love him, and you don’t want to see him wasting his money or spending time all alone holed up in some hotel.

“Eddie, don’t do that. Save your money. Come stay with me.”

His jaw drops and a rough chuckle falls from his mouth. “Sweetheart—you, you don’t have to do this. Really, it’s fine.”

Taking a step closer, you grab one of Eddie’s hands in your own. “You’re about to be a single dad to two growing boys. And paying a lawyer to try and get custody. Come on, just stay with me.” 

Eddie sighs, your logic wearing him down. Finally, he nods his head and licks over his lips. “Okay. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, it’s okay,” you tell him. “As long as you’re not wearing your dirty coveralls, you’re more than welcome to sleep next to me.” 

He sticks his tongue out at you. “My coveralls don’t make the cut, but you’re fine after being around germ machines all day?”

“They’re your germ machines!” you remind him.

When Brittany gets home, she completely ignores you. “You can go now,” she says to her soon-to-be-ex-husband. “Is your stuff packed already?” Eddie nods, but she’s already walked past him. 

“Boys, come say goodbye to your dad!” Brittany calls out half-heartedly. Eddie cringes at the way it sounds: your dad. Not dad, the father of this family; now he’s an outsider in his own home. 

Ryan and Luke trudge out of their rooms. “Daddy,” Luke asks softly, “can you stay? Please? You can sleep in my room if you don’t want to be near Mom.”

Eddie blinks back tears. “I’m sorry, bud,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. “That’s real nice of you to offer, though.”

“I love you, Daddy.” Ryan throws his arms around his dad, squeezing him tight. “‘M gonna miss you.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie forces out a chuckle, “I’m moving out; I’m not dead.” He looks up at you, and you give him a small, encouraging smile. “I’ll stop by tomorrow and we can go to the park, yeah?”

“All of us?” asks Ryan. 

“Um,” Eddie clears his throat, “I don’t know if Mom will—”

“No,” Ryan shakes his head. “I meant…” He looks at you, and you’re taken aback. 

“I don’t want to interrupt your father-son bonding time,” you gently tease, trying not to overstep your bounds. 

“But we want you to come!” Luke protests, glancing at Ryan for confirmation, who nods. “You can play tag with us. Daddy’s too old.”

“Excuse me, sir!” Eddie gasps. “Could an old man do this?” He takes each boy in one arm and throws them over his shoulder. They’re giggling and kicking their feet; Luke narrowly misses Eddie’s groin. “Hey, be careful of the family jewels,” he warns, making them laugh even harder. 

When he sets them down, he looks them square in the eyes. “Tomorrow. Playground. The four of us. And I will kick your little butts in tag. Got it?”

“Got it!” the boys echo, giving him one last hug before going back to play. 

You turn to Eddie. “Y’okay?” you ask him, though it seems like a dumb question. 

“Getting there,” he admits, slinging a duffel bag over his shoulder and managing a smile. “Let’s hit the road.”

Eddie throws his bag in his van and climbs in. He follows you as you drive to your apartment and pulls into the parking space next to you. When Eddie steps out of his van, you can tell he’d been crying on the drive over, but you can’t blame him one bit. 

Jess is sitting on the couch when the two of you walk in, a bowl of popcorn in her lap and Pretty Woman playing on the television. Her hand freezes halfway to her mouth, a few kernels of popcorn stuck between her fingers and her jaw hanging open.

“Hi, again,” Eddie says, giving her a sheepish smile. Jess raises her other hand in greeting, eyes darting over to look at you. 

“Yeah, we uh, we’ve got a house guest for now,” you say, cheeks getting warm. You gesture for Eddie to go ahead of you, into your room. Jess raises her eyebrows at you when you walk past, and you playfully swat at her before following in behind him. Closing the door, you lean against it as you watch Eddie drop his duffel onto your floor. 

“You hungry?” you ask. Eddie shrugs and slides his hands into his pockets. You huff a laugh and roll your eyes. “Eddie, we have food. I can make something.”

“Don’t wanna put you out any more than I am,” he says, shrugging again. 

“So, what? You’re not going to eat the whole time you’re here?” You raise your eyebrows at him and walk over, tugging on the zipper of his leather jacket. “You’re also allowed to take your jacket off, ya know? We don’t make our guests sweat or starve themselves to death.”

“Such a good hostess,” Eddie says with a playful smirk. 

“Oh, come on.” You open your bedroom door and walk out to the kitchen, waiting as Eddie trails along behind you. Pursing your lips, you open the freezer and peer inside. “Should we have ice cream sundaes for dinner?”

“Oh, the boys would be so jealous.” Eddie chuckles and reaches in to grab the ice cream. You put two bowls down on the counter and Eddie starts scooping as you grab any toppings you can find. Whipped cream, sprinkles, chocolate chips, cherries, and chocolate sauce. Eddie dips his finger in the chocolate sauce and puts a dot of it on your nose. He laughs when you go cross eyed trying to look at it. 

“Whipped cream, please,” you say, holding your hand out. The sound of the spout spraying out the airy cream meets your ears before you feel the cold stickiness hitting your palm. “I meant the can!”

Eddie’s smirk falls from his face as you lick the whipped topping from your hand, instantly realizing he walked right into you teasing him like that. It hadn’t been your intention to tease him though, and you feel your face warm up as you swallow the mouthful. Neither of you having eaten in hours, you inhale the sundaes, and Eddie manages to only get brain freeze once. You put the empty bowls in the sink to be washed later, and Eddie says he’s going to take a quick shower. As you grab a towel for him, you tease him about making sure he gets all the dirt from his coveralls off his body. He tugs on a strand of your hair before heading into the bathroom.

Even though it’s early, you change into your pajamas and get comfortable on your bed. You pull out your worn copy of Little Women and reread it for what must be the hundredth time. You’re so enraptured by Jo and Laurie’s banter that you don’t even hear the shower turn off. 

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie’s voice snaps you from your book. Your jaw nearly drops to the ground when you see him walk in, wearing nothing but the towel around his lithe waist. His curly hair is dripping wet, leaving little water droplets along his bare shoulders as he scrambles for his clothes. “Shit, ‘m sorry. Forgot my suitcase…”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, marking your page with an old receipt and closing the book. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Eddie blushes, and it’s simultaneously the cutest and sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. “Y-Yeah, but we’re not doing, um, that anymore, so…” He grabs a clean pair of boxers and plaid pajama pants. “I’ll just get changed in the bathroom.” 

He comes back without a shirt on, and you cock an eyebrow in amusement. “Forget something?” you ask, trying to play it cool and not salivate at the sight of his tattooed chest. 

“Oh, yeah…” he grins sheepishly. “I usually get too warm to sleep with a shirt, b-but I can put one on if you’d feel more comfortable.”

The ache between your legs tells you that something else has to happen to alleviate your discomfort, but you push away that thought. “Nah, I’d rather sleep next to a shirtless Eddie than a sweaty one.” But that’s bullshit; you’d sleep next to any version of him you could get. 

Eddie flips you off before climbing into bed. “Longest week of my life,” he mutters. His arm instinctively snakes around your waist; it isn’t until you move to flick off your lamp that he realizes. “Fuck, ‘m just so used to holding you.” He starts to pull away, but you hold his hand in place. 

“You can hold me…if you want to,” you murmur, sliding deeper under the covers. “Y’don’t have to.”

But Eddie’s already tugging your back to his chest. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” His voice is muffled, face nuzzled against your shoulder blade. “Oh, and don’t mind him if he’s excited in the morning. He has a mind of his own.”

You throw his words back at him. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

A comfortable silence fills the air as you lay in his arms. He presses tiny kisses along your shoulders, making you shiver. 

“Eddie?” Your voice is so small that even you barely hear it. “Can I ask you something?” You adjust yourself so that you’re facing him, your nose touching his. His big hands fall to your thighs, and he rubs his thumb along them as he waits for you to elaborate. “The other day, when you said you love me…why?”

His face scrunches up in confusion. “Why did I say it? Or why do I love you?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Well,” he starts, bringing one palm up to cup your cheek, “I love you because you treat me and my boys with love, kindness, and respect. I love you because you make me smile on my worst days. Saying goodbye to Ryan and Luke tonight…I thought my heart was gonna break in half. But then you were there, and I knew everything would be all right. Maybe not right now, but it will be. You give me hope. And I haven’t felt that for a long time.” He offers you a little smile. “And I told you because you deserve to know how fucking loved you are.”

His confession leaves you breathless; it takes you a moment to process it all. “Eddie Munson, the fact that anyone made you question your worth…” you trail off, shaking your head. That isn’t what this is about. “You make me happy. I never knew that one person could be so kind, so thoughtful, so loving. And your boys…God, they’re just the best kids, all because of you. They see what a gentle, sensitive man you are, and they’re not afraid to show that side of themselves.”

“I’m actually very burly,” he pouts. “Dunno why you’re painting me as this big ol’ softy.”

“You’re right; I’m sorry,” you giggle. “You’re the toughest, grittiest guy I know. You could fight a kangaroo and win.” You feel his fingertips dig into your hips as he brings you even closer to him. “And those are just some of the reasons why…why I love you, Eddie.”

Even in the dim lighting of your darkened room you can see the way Eddie’s face lights up at your words. If your stomach wasn’t already a flurry from finally telling him how you feel, it would be from the sheer joy in his expression. 

“Say it again,” Eddie pleads, hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Please.”

“I love you, Eddie.” His smile is contagious as you mirror it, saying the words that have long been on your heart. 

“I love you, too.” 

It’s far from your first kiss, but as the two of you lean in towards one another, the electricity crackles in the air around you. There’s a giddiness and an earnesty when your lips touch that sends a shockwave through your body. It’s not your first kiss but it’s your first kiss since you’ve declared your love for one another. That makes it your favorite kiss of all. 

Eddie rests his forehead against yours, hand sliding down to your neck and his thumb brushing over your pulse point. Goosebumps break out on your skin beneath his touch, and he chuckles as he feels them against his fingertips. 

“Can’t believe you react that way because of me,” he says. “I feel like all of this is too good to be true.” 

You nod, your hand coming up to rest on top of his black widow tattoo, over his heart. “I know what you mean. I felt that way our first night.”

“Mm, but now,” Eddie says, pausing to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “It’s just you and me and nothing has to be hidden. I can take you out, hold your hand in public, kiss you in front of whoever I want—with your permission, of course.”

“What about the boys?” Your hand comes up to play with the damp curls at the base of his neck. “What do we tell them? It might be confusing for them to go straight from ‘Daddy loves Mom’ to ‘Daddy loves our babysitter.’” 

“That wasn’t exactly how it happened,” Eddie says with a breathy chuckle. “More like ‘Daddy stopped loving Mom a long time ago because she’s evil incarnate and then he met the most beautiful, wonderful, amazing woman who stole his heart.’”

“That might be a little tough for them to swallow,” you say, a playful smirk on your lips. 

“Well…” Eddie says, looking up at you through his dark eyelashes. There’s a shy expression on his face and it’s so foreign to his features. “What are we, then? Like, how would you want to describe what we have?” 

It sounds like such a high school question, but it’s important to figure it out and make sure you’re both on the same page. Husband and wife? your brain thinks automatically. You feel like you’re going to have to constantly kick yourself in the ass to make sure you don’t get ahead of yourself.

“Hmm,” you hum. “Well, you mentioned taking me out. Why don’t you ask me on a proper first date?”

“God, I haven’t done that since high school,” Eddie says.

“Didn’t they call it courting back then? You know, in the 1920’s?”

Eddie smirks and his hands instantly attach to your sides, tickling you until you’re a squealing, squirming mess below him. 

“Okay, so how about for our first date I take you to the bingo hall?” Eddie’s flat voice makes you giggle even harder. You drop your forehead to his shoulder and cuddle your body closer to his. 

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “M’not 21 yet. Can't gamble.”

“Or drink,” Eddie realizes, his eyes widening. “Holy shit, I’m dating a Cabbage Patch Kid.”

A blush comes to your cheeks as you laugh, deciding not to point out that there is in fact a Cabbage Patch doll sitting in the corner of your room. “So, we’re dating, huh?”

“I guess we will be once I think of a perfect place to take you,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“And ask me,” you remind him, raising your eyebrows. 

“Right, right.” Eddie clears his throat. “Sweetheart, would you make me the happiest metal head this side of the Mississippi and accompany me on a date next Friday?”

Pursing your lips, you pretend to think his offer over. His eyes narrow at you as the silence stretches on.

“I would be honored, Edward.”

His nose wrinkles up at the formality of his full name. “Ugh, that sounds so snobby. Edward.”

“Hmm,” you tease. “How about Edwin? Edmund? Edgar?”

“Uh, no.”

“Oedipus?”

“Isn’t that the guy who fucked his mom and killed his dad?”

The rest of the night is like this; being silly and sneaking kisses as you cuddle up into each other. You feel so safe against Eddie’s chest, enveloped in his warmth. You start to drift off to sleep, but your rest is disrupted by his constant tossing and turning.

“Something on your mind?” You try to keep your voice light, but you can’t help the concern that seeps through.

Eddie slips his arm around your waist, thrumming his fingers along your hip. “Can’t stop thinking about my boys,” he murmurs. “I just wish they were here, too. Hate knowing that I won’t wake up in the morning to them fighting over Hot Wheels.”

You sigh, debating whether or not to tell him what you know. “I talked to Ryan today,” you begin, hoping you’re doing the right thing, “and he said that he wants to live with you. Not, um, her. He was sad that he and Luke had to stay in the house and not come with you.”

“Oh.” Eddie’s silent, processing what he’s just heard. “That makes me feel good, I guess. Too bad a judge won’t care.”

“What do you mean?” You prop yourself up on your elbow, facing him.

“She said that dads usually just get every other weekend, holidays, y’know,” he bites his lip nervously, and you kiss it to distract him. “I mean, I’m glad they don’t hate me, but it makes me sad that they’ll have to be with her if they don’t want to be.”

You shake your head. “Eddie, the boys–especially Ryan–are old enough that a judge will listen to what they want. And if they tell him or her that they’re more comfortable living with their dad, you might be able to get full custody.” He’s still quiet, so you press on. “I know you don’t want them being too involved in it, but it might be worth it if it means they get to be with you.”

Eddie caresses your cheek, a smile spreading across his face. “How do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Make me happy. Make me realize that everything will be okay.” He kisses your forehead lightly before yawning, finally able to relax. “I fuckin’ love you, baby. Sweet dreams.”

Waking up next to Eddie is the best feeling in the world. And he wasn’t lying about his morning…situation. You can feel his hard length pressing up against your thigh as he softly snores. You know you should probably wait until your first official date, but you haven’t stopped craving him since your last time together, back at the auto shop. Before you can stop yourself, you’re kissing his neck, the slight stubble that’s formed overnight scratching your cheek.

“Hey, sugar,” he murmurs sleepily. “What’s gotten into you, hm?”

“Missed you,” you manage, wrapping your leg around his so they’re intertwined. 

He chuckles, voice groggy and deeper than usual. “Missed me? ‘M right here.” His eyebrows shoot up when you reach down and gently graze his morning wood. “Oh, shit,” he hisses, “baby, if you touch me there…”

“I know,” you say between kisses. “I want you to. Please.”

Eddie’s fingertips dig into your side. “Y’know I can’t turn you down when you beg for me like that,” he growls, hooking a finger into the waistband of your lace panties and tugging them off. Before you can ask him for more, he’s diving beneath the sheets, bringing his lips to your inner thighs, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting.

“St-stop teasing me, Eds,” you whimper. He’s so fucking close to where you need him to be, yet too far away. You can see the outline of his head as he gives a little nod, plunging between your legs. He licks a stripe up your folds, breathing heavily as he tastes you.

“You’re fuckin’ delicious,” he says, words vibrating along your core. “Could eat this pussy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, shit.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say, one hand fisting your sheet as Eddie’s tongue licks up another stripe. The other hand snakes its way into his messy curls, and he moans when you pull his hair.

 He brings his lips to your clit and sucks on it, grinning as he senses you writhing against him. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he teases, slipping a finger inside your aching sex. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you whine, trying not to buck up your hips, but your efforts are fruitless. Eddie’s on a mission to make you come as many times as he possibly can, and he’s making no attempt to hide it. You feel a second thick finger enter your pussy, stretching you slightly. His fingers pump in and out of you, his tongue keeping a relentless pace on your clit. The overstimulation from his mouth and hand pushes you over the edge, and you cry out his name over and over as you finish.

Eddie throws the sheet over his head, grinning widely. His chin is covered in your slick, and he wears it proudly. “That’s one,” he announces. “Ready for another?”

“Y-Yes, please.”

“Y’ask so nice for me, babe.” 

Blushing at his sweet words, you turn your head to hide your face in your pillow. Eddie tuts and gently tugs your chin until you’re looking up at him again. He chuckles at your shy look, leaning down to press slow kisses along your throat. 

“I love you, baby,” he mumbles against your skin. 

“I love you too, Eddie.” You feel his hips align with yours, and your jaw drops open at the pleasurable stretch as he begins to push inside of you. 

“Shit,” Eddie groans. “Missed your tight little pussy.” 

Your fingers clutch at his back, nails sure to leave some raised pink scratches by the time you’re done. “S’big,” you moan. “Don’t know if I can take it all.”

“You can,” he reassures you, going in deeper until he bottoms out. “You’re gonna take it all f’me. ‘M gonna fill you up s’good. Just please, gotta let me move, baby doll.” His eyes are pleading, desperate to rut up inside you.

“Can move, Eddie,” you say, nodding your head. The words have barely left your lips before he’s withdrawing, just to thrust back into you. A gasp leaves your lips as he fills you to the hilt again. It may have only been about a week since you’d slept together, but it felt like an eternity without having him inside of you. 

“Love you,” you say in between moans, and Eddie’s hips pick up the pace at your words.

“Love you, too. Fuck, baby, you keep saying that and this isn’t going to last as long as I want it to.” He huffs a breathy laugh and rests his forehead against yours. 

“That a challenge?” you ask with a smirk.

“Uh uh,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “M’gonna make you come over and over.” As if to prove his point, he slips two fingers into your mouth, putting pressure on your tongue. “Get ‘em nice and wet for me, baby. I know what that pretty mouth can do.”

Slipping your eyes closed, you swirl your tongue around his fingers, moaning around his thick digits. You open your eyes and meet Eddie’s dark gaze, his attention focused solely on your face as his hips keep snapping against yours. Once you release his fingers with a sharp pop, he brings them down to your clit, rubbing in a tight circle. 

A whine escapes your lips as you throw your head back, neck arching and exposed to the man above you. Eddie leans in and attaches his lips to the side of your throat, sucking and biting at the skin, determined to leave you with a mark that won’t fade any time soon. 

“Close, Eddie,” you say, hands coming up to tangle in his long curly locks again. 

“Come on, baby,” Eddie urges. “Gimme another one.” 

You do as he says, arching your back and wrapping your legs around the bottom of his ass and pulling him even deeper inside you. “‘M coming, all f’you.” He nods, slowing his pace slightly and allowing you to come down slightly.

“S’fucking beautiful when you come on my cock,” he muses. “Want one more from you. Can you handle that? Just one more?”

“One more,” you murmur, already fucked out from two back-to-back orgasms.

“Thas’ my good girl.” 

“C-Come with me this time?” you ask, voice hoarse. Tears prick at your eyes, and you wipe them away before he can notice.

“Aww,” Eddie coos, “did I wear my girl out?”

His taunting lights a fire inside you, and you smirk. “Actually, I want you deeper.”

“Fuck,” he throws his head back, withdrawing from you. He chuckles darkly when you hiss at the loss. “The faster you get on your hands and knees, the faster I can be back inside you.”

Muscles weak and protesting the movement, you force yourself to ignore it and do as Eddie says. His hands grab your hips, rough calloused fingers running over your smooth skin. 

“Mm, what a nice view,” Eddie admires as he removes one hand from your body to line his cock up with your hole. He teases you, sliding his length up and down your slit as you drop your head forward. Your whines only encourage him as he watches your hole flutter around nothing. 

“Please, Eddie,” you beg. 

“Anything for my needy girl,” Eddie says, and you don’t need to be looking at him to know there’s a smirk on his face. He slides back inside of you and your arms give out, upper body landing on your pillow. Your fingers scratch at your purple pillowcase as he slams into you. The repeated motion of his hips has the headboard banging against the wall and his heavy balls slapping against your clit. 

“Fuck, baby,” you breathe out. “So deep. So, so deep.”

“Tell me how it feels, princess. How’s it make my girl feel?” Eddie’s hand grabs onto your ass and slides it up your back. 

“So full,” you answer. “Love when you’re inside me.” The pressure of him against your walls has you clenching around his length. “Spank me, Eddie. I’ve been a bad girl.”

Eddie’s hips stutter; you’ve never caught him off-guard like this before. His palm meets your ass with a small whack, but it’s nothing compared to what you need. 

“No, harder. You won’t hurt me.”

A string of swear words slips from his lips as he smacks the fat of your ass with more power, leaving a stinging print. “More?” But he can’t follow through before he stammers, “fuck—shit—‘m coming.” His dick twitches, and he moans as he finishes. “Come with me; want you to cream my cock while I fuck you full of me. Want you to take all my cum, thassagoodgirlfuckfuckfuck.” He spills into you, continuing to thrust. “Take it, take it all. So fuckin’ good f’me, taking all my cum. Bet you want me to knock you up, don’t you?” The words leave his mouth before he can catch them. 

The thought of having Eddie’s baby normally makes you feel all kinds of ways; imagining him tenderly kissing your bump or staring at your newly-larger breasts in awe. It’s all pretend for now, at least until you graduate. 

Thank God for birth control, you think. But then your whole body freezes up. 

In all of last night’s excitement, you’d forgotten to take your pill. 

“Shit!” you cry out, pulling away from him. But it’s too late; you can feel his release dripping down your leg. You turn to him, misty-eyed, and explain the situation. 

“Don’t cry, pretty girl,” Eddie smiles, laying down and motioning for you to snuggle into his chest. “Would it be so bad? Having my baby?”

You shake your head. “I-I want your baby,” you admit, “but I gotta get my degree, get a job…” You gaze up at him incredulously. “You really mean it when you say you wanna get me pregnant? It’s not just dirty talk?”

Eddie laughs, putting his arm around you and pulling you closer. “Baby, if you only knew how many times I’ve gotten off thinkin’ about knocking you up…” He clicks his tongue. “Turns me on so…damn…bad…” he muses, punctuating the last three words with kisses to your neck. 

“Easy there; you just wore me out,” you giggle. “We should be okay. I can take two now, and I’m just a few days from getting my period.” You laugh harder when he frowns. “Don’t tell me you’re grossed out by periods!”

“No, but we can’t…y’know, practice making a baby while…” he pouts, and you tuck his hair behind his ears. 

“I don’t mind a little mess if you don’t,” you shrug. “Besides, orgasms help with cramps.”

His eyes light up. “Consider me your personal heating pad, then.”

You roll your eyes and swing your legs out of bed. “C’mon, we promised the boys we’d take them to the park.”

Eddie groans, overdramatically, and holds his hands over his heart as if he’s been shot. “You found it, baby. Literally the only thing that could get me out of bed with you.” 

This time when you roll your eyes, there’s a fond smile on your face as well. “I’m sure the boys would be glad to know that they’re prioritized over getting laid.”

“Well, first of all,” Eddie says as he scoops up his boxers from where they’d be kicked on the floor. “It’s not just getting laid. It’s having sex with you. Totally different, we’re making love now. Officially!” His face radiates joy as he jumps around, sliding his boxers up. “Because, you know, you said you love me and all. Remember that?”

Turning around from where you were digging some underwear out of your drawer, you put your hands on Eddie’s chest and smile up at him, placatingly. “I do remember. And I remember you saying you love me too. But the boys are still more important.”

Eddie laughs and presses a kiss to your hair. “They’ll understand when they’re older.”

Playfully, you shove him off of you, which only makes him grab you around the waist and pull you up against his body. You’re squealing as you try to get away from him, to collect your clothes for the day. But, unable to shake him, you settle for him helping you get dressed. 

“Can I stay here until the Harrington quarantine is lifted?” he asks, suddenly shy. 

You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your chest to his. “Baby, you can stay here forever.” 

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: jamal is y/n’s brother's best friend and they hate each other, but they are forced to share a hotel room on a vocation and they constantly fight and tease each other, but in the end they start to like the other one<3<3 make it as long as you can thank youuu💖💖 (anonymous)

Word Count: 1.4k words

(author's note: bit of a longer one, hope you all enjoy 🫶)

It was a well-known fact that Y/N L/N and Jamal Musiala hated each other. Forced to be in close proximity their whole lives due to Jamal and her brother’s friendship didn’t help ease Y/N’s hatred for the older boy either.

Something happened along the line that ended the old friendship the pair used to have. Nobody knew what happened, all they knew was that Jamal and Y/N were not on good terms.

The L/N’s had arranged a family holiday and Y/N couldn’t have been more excited. However, her excitement dimmed considerably when she found out her parents had allowed her brother to invite Jamal.

“I just don’t understand why he has to come. It’s a family holiday, not an invite whoever you want holiday.”

YB/N sighed, “You’re so dramatic, Jamal hasn’t even done anything wrong. I don’t see why you think he shouldn't come.”

“Of course, you’d say that.” She replied, rolling her eyes at her brother.

The days before the holiday soon passed and before Y/N knew it, Jamal was standing on their doorstep with his suitcase and a backpack on his back.

“Suppose you better come in then,” Y/N mumbled, opening the door wider and stepping to the side to let him in.

“Thanks,” Jamal replied curtly, avoiding any extra interaction with the girl standing in front of him.

Jamal regretted many things in life, one of those being how he ended his friendship with Y/N. Having known the girl all his life, he should’ve known that sooner or later, his feelings for Y/N would become harder and harder to hide. Jamal had never seen someone more beautiful, kind, sweet, and funny than Y/N, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

He blew up on her and ended their friendship coldly. As he walked away from her in that moment and heard her sobs, he could only imagine the pained look on her face and the tear streaks that adorned her cheeks.

To this day, Jamal regretted it. He wished he could take it all back and just tell Y/N how he felt. Now, when he dragged his suitcase through the front door of her family home and she wouldn’t even look at him, he felt more regret than ever.

“Jamal, how are you, man?” YB/N said, coming down the stairs.

“Not bad mate, how are you?”

“I’m alright, leave your case down there, my dad will sort it.”

Jamal pushed his suitcase against the wall and followed YB/N up the stairs. Y/N’s eyes followed him as he walked away. She wouldn’t admit it, but part of her missed how close she and Jamal used to be.

She missed how he would care for her, drive her places, and wander around any shop she wanted to go to just to see her smile. Y/N also wouldn’t admit she was secretly excited for Jamal to join them on holiday.

The airport process went by fairly quickly, and before Y/N knew it, she was sat on the plane, staring out of the window. She was so zoned out that she didn’t hear someone sit next to her. She also failed to realise that the person was none other than Jamal Musiala.

“Oh, it's you.”

“Brilliant observation,” Jamal replied dryly.

“Okay, no need to be so rude,” Y/N replied.

The pair ignored each other for the remainder of the flight, an awkward silence lingering in the air.

The flight was long and uncomfortable, and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief when she finally stepped off. The family headed through security, collected their suitcases, and were then picked up by their taxi to the hotel.

The hotel was by the beach with grand columns and marble floors. As she walked in through the revolving doors, Y/N’s eyes widened at the sheer grandeur of the interior. She could feel Jamal’s presence behind her as well as hear him and her brother whispering together.

Y/N was pulled away from her admiring when her mother called her name, “Y/N, my darling, come here please.”

Y/N moved over to where her parents stood, noticing that they both exchanged a look.

“Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“Well, and we know you won’t like this, but you and Jamal will have to share a room.”

“What? Why? That’s not fair! Why can’t YB/N share with him?”

“Because they can’t be trusted when they’re sharing a room. YB/N has agreed to sleep in our room, so you’ll have to share with Jamal.”

Y/N nodded and sighed, “Fine.”

Once they had all received their room keys, Y/N moved over to the lift, followed by Jamal and her family. All squeezed into the confined space of the lift, Y/N realised that she wasn’t too repulsed at the idea of sharing a room with Jamal.

The group exited the lift and made their way down the long corridors. Pulling the key out of his pocket, Jamal unlocked the door to his and Y/N's hotel room.

He pushed open the door and pulled his suitcase in. Y/N followed behind him, closing the door behind her.

“Can I have the bed next to the window?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah, whatever you want,” Jamal responded.

She walked over to the bed, placed her backpack on top of it, and hoisted her suitcase up as well.

Unzipping it, she grabbed some coathangers and started to hang her clothes up and put her shoes in the bottom of the wardrobe.

“Would you like me to hang your things up as well?”

“You don't have to, I'm not incapable.”

“That's not- I meant- I was just trying to be nice!” Y/N stuttered out, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

Jamal rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”

Grabbing her makeup bag, Y/N went into the bathroom, eager to avoid any further confrontation with Jamal.

Her ideas of making amends with Jamal and forgiving him for what he did all those years ago were slowly fading from her mind. She had never felt more stupid in her life.

Jamal felt like a complete and utter idiot. He didn't know what was wrong with him. The whole reason he had accepted YB/N's invite to the holiday was to make amends with Y/N and finally tell her how he felt.

Now, he'd only made things worse.

Mustering up all the courage he possibly could, he dragged himself over to the bathroom and knocked softly on the door.

“Y/N?”

“What do you want, Jamal?” She replied coldly, not interested in talking to him.

“Can we talk?”

Y/N was caught off guard. The quiet tone of his voice sounded almost apologetic, something she had never heard from Jamal before.

She unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom.

“Sure, we can talk.”

The pair moved over to the small sofa in the corner of their room. Y/N sat down, looking at her hands, avoiding Jamal’s gaze.

“I don't really know what to say apart from, I'm so sorry. For everything. Ever since I ended our friendship, I've regretted it more than anything. All these years where I've been so mean and disrespectful, it was to cover up how I really felt.”

Y/N's head snapped up, “Jamal-”

“No, let me finish. Please. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember. And instead of just telling you, I pushed you away. It wasn't right, and I know it. I'm just so sorry for all the pain I caused.”

Y/N sat in silence. She didn't know what to say.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

Y/N looked Jamal dead in the eyes, leaned in and kissed him.

Jamal was taken aback at first but quickly moved his hand to rest on Y/N's waist.

Their lips moved in sync, all those years of mutual pining poured into one kiss.

“You have no idea how long I've waited to do that. I love you too, you big idiot.”

Jamal laughed, “I really made things difficult didn't I?”

“Yeah, definitely. Next time you have some huge feelings, just tell me. Instead of cutting me off for years. It's much easier,” Y/N replied, laughing back at him.

Jamal moved closer to Y/N on the sofa and wrapped his arm around her. They sat in silence for a while before Jamal spoke up again,

“Is it too late to take you up on your offer of hanging my clothes up?”

[catdiarie]

☥  ˖ִ ࣪ 🦇 icyhot.　⠀p. parker & t. stark . . .

( ♱ ) … ftm!peter hates his period. tony orders him to relax and take it easy. (tw: injury)

777 。。masterlist

Peter hates the school bus. He sits somewhere in the middle, mostly surrounded by little kids that like to scream at 7 in the morning and have an obsession with pulling all their belongings out from their bags and dropping them all across their seats and into the aisle. Peter won’t pick up another water bottle, he refuses. The back of the bus, though, has the older kids, from his grade and just below. They play inappropriate music, don’t stop gossiping, and make fun of everyone they can. Including him. 

With a groan, Peter slides down further into his seat. Everything just aches, from his throbbing temples to his binder-wrapped chest to his toes. There’s nothing to make it go away either, he ran out of Midol two days ago and hasn’t been able to get more since. God, he hopes that it’ll be a little quieter in school. He pops his headphones in—StarkTech, noise-cancelling dialed to 11 for his spider sensitivities—and dreams of being anywhere but on a creaking yellow bus filled with people he can’t stand.

The rest of the drive passes in a pain-filled haze. Several times Peter contemplates crying, the ache in his body worsening. He’s not sick, he knows that much. Took his temperature this morning and everything. It doesn’t matter so much, though, because he knows exactly what’s wrong and just can’t bear to admit it. He disembarks the bus, rounds to his locker, and meets up with Ned and MJ.

“You sure you’re alright, dude?” Ned asks again, concern painted clearly across his face.

“Yeah, I’m good. I promise,” Peter reassures him, even as a wave of nausea curls in his gut. As nice as it is that Ned cares, Peter would rather jump off the school than talk about this. He doesn’t want it to be happening, let alone let other people know that it’s happening. 

“Well, if you need anything, ask,” MJ says. The way she looks at him says she’s already got it all figured out. He smiles at her, tight and closed-lipped, in thanks. Unless he’s literally bleeding out across the floor, Peter doubts he’ll be asking for anything. “And drink hot things. Might help you feel better. But no caffeine,” she tacks on casually. 

Ned squints, looking between them like they’re speaking in code without him. “Right, what MJ said. Just ask! We can even fake an emergency and have you called out.”

“Thanks, guys,” Peter replies genuinely. “I appreciate it.”

And he does, is the thing. It just makes him feel a hundred times shittier that he can’t bring himself to tell them. It’s not even their business, really, he reassures himself. But, on the other hand, they wouldn’t have to worry. Or, Ned wouldn’t. MJ knows—she always knows. They head to class, Ned and MJ splitting off towards English while Peter heads for Calculus. 

Peter makes it until lunch, where he dramatically collapses into a chair beside MJ and, embarrassed and annoyed, asks for some Advil. He pops two and washes them down with water, watching as Ned comes back from getting his lunch.

“There was some girl, a freshman I think, up there getting her lunch and she started arguing that it’s stupid she has to take a fruit if she won’t eat it and that it makes more sense to leave it for someone who will eat it,” Ned relays the second he sits down. 

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Peter replies as he pulls the lid off his applesauce. His stomach is still queasy, but people have always been on him about the importance of eating when you feel horrible. “Kind of wasteful, really. They only make you do it because it’s required for them to hit all the food groups.”

The conversation tumbles into talk about assignments, upcoming tests, and, inevitably, questions about Spider-Man or Tony. 

“I still can’t believe you just, like, go to SI whenever you want and just use the labs—you use Tony Stark’s personal lab,” Ned exclaims. “It’s crazy.”

Peter chuckles and grins. “It’s kind of my lab, too. I have my own workbench and all. I have a whole space to make my web fluid, too.”

“So, when are we going to be invited?” MJ asks. “Since you live there half the time and all.”

“I don’t—I don’t live there,” Peter splutters. “I only go there when May works late or I need fixing up for Spider-Man or—”

“Peter, that’s half your life,” Ned interrupts. “MJ’s kind of right. When do we get to—”

“Shut up,” Peter laughs.  “Look, I don’t know. Mr. Stark’s a busy man.”

“Bet you’re going over there tonight,” MJ replies. She grins smugly when Peter flushes bright red.

“I hate you guys,” Peter complains. 

“Nah, you love us,” MJ says. “Not our fault you’re so predictable.”

Though lunch and the Advil brought relief, Peter is quickly back to feeling shitty again. By the time the final bell of the day rings, his entire body aches so horribly he thinks he might collapse. His chest is overly sore and he almost can’t pick between whether he should keep binding or not (he shouldn’t; it’s been eight hours).

The bus ride home is worse than the one to school was. Peter does cry this time, hood pulled tight over his head and earbuds snug in his ears. His intestines have tied themselves in knots. Nothing feels okay and it’s all just on the tipping side of too much. Peter has been hurt worse, but somehow, this feels like a kind of emotional and physical torture tied into one and topped with an ugly, garish bow.

When Peter gets home he collapses onto his bed and contemplates spending the rest of the night there. His duty to Spider-Man and promise to drop by to see Tony override his exhaustion. He pulls himself out of bed and suits up for patrol (sans binder—because his pain is worse than his gender dysphoria right now—but with layered sports bras and the compression of the suit). 

It goes to shit instantly, because the universe has had it out for Peter Parker since his birth. He nearly gets shot by a bank robber within the first hour of patrol and gets slammed into a wall so many times by the same guy trying to steal a car that he should be in jail for that as well. He helps a teenager with directions towards the subway station and a little girl catch her dog who’s run off down the street.

The next person he meets is a mercenary. Peter’s come face-to-face with them before—Deadpool is surprisingly sweet and always nice to him—but this one is out for blood of every kind. Peter’s energy has been steadily waning ever since he woke up, and a few Advil can only boost you so far. By the time the criminal is webbed up tightly to the wall, Peter’s sustained a gash to the thigh which is steadily leaking blood. 

Guilty as he feels about it, Peter makes the decision that patrol is over for the night. He sprays webbing over the wound and swings his way to Stark Industries. 

—

“Welcome, Peter,” FRIDAY says, voice ringing out as Peter drags himself through a window into the tower’s second living room—the one for Starks only. Climbing the tower is never fun, but it becomes significantly less enjoyable when it hurts like hell to put weight on one of your legs. “Would you like me to alert Boss to your presence?”

“Yes, please, FRIDAY,” Peter gets out through gritted teeth. He drags himself over to the couch and collapses onto it, fully drained of the last bit of adrenalized-energy he has. His fingers scramble at the edge of his mask as he attempts to pull it off, clumsy with pain. 

Tony walks into the room not five minutes later and by then Peter is teetering on the edge of passing out. His breaths are shallow, chest aching if he takes too deep of one. Tears are dried tacky on his cheeks and he’s just so fucking—embarassed. He’s a superhero. He shouldn’t be knocked down because of a slight knife wound and his period. 

Tony takes one look at him and says, “Oh, kid,” before Peter starts sobbing. 

Peter is helped to the bathroom—freakishly lavish and sparkling clean—where he strips out of his suit and switches into the change of clothes (soft sweatpants and one of Tony’s old shirts) that Tony brings him. They set about his wound next, Tony cleaning it and wrapping it in gauze while Peter sits on the closed toilet. He refused a doctor—not willing to suffer the embarrassment of being seen by one without his binder, even Dr. Cho—and Tony deemed the wound not deep enough to be in need of stitches. 

By the time they finish, Peter is a little more alert but still feels like his muscles are throbbing and the lingering embarrassment and shame haven’t gone away. Just as Tony tosses the first aid kit back below the sink, Peter’s stomach growls. He doesn’t have the gall to even be embarrassed about it; he hasn’t eaten since lunch and it’s now well into the evening. 

“Suit, gone. Wound, patched. Food, next up on the list,” Tony says, flashing Peter a reassuring grin. Peter grins back, much weaker and lacking…anything. He sways back and forth slightly, head feeling as though it’s too heavy to hold up. “Hey, hey, hey.”

Tony catches him just before he can fall. His face is scrunched up in worry and he presses the back of his hand to Peter’s forehead. He frowns and says, “You’re burning up. What else happened, just the leg wound or something else?”

Peter shrugs weakly, unwilling still to talk about it. He doesn’t want to tell Tony he’s on his period, even if it would be nice to get some medicine and maybe a heating pad or hot water bottle. 

“Want to take anything?” Tony pulls open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. “Let’s see, Tylenol, Advil, Midol—”

“Midol,” Peter interrupts. “Please.”

Tony tosses the packet to him without question, and Peter quickly downs the medicine. The idea that he even needs to take “for menstrual relief” pills is something that feels disgusting, but the pain-free breeze that they bring negates it ever so slightly. He hands the packet back to Tony and slumps against the toilet’s tank. 

“Leftover pizza sound alright?” Tony prompts when Peter doesn’t say anything. His face is softened with the gentle concern Peter has only ever seen directed at three people: himself, Morgan, and Pepper. It’s moments like this where Peter wants to cry the most. Somewhere between superhero mentor and genius guide, Tony also became something like a—dad.

“Yeah,” Peter replies. “And we can watch Star Wars?”

“Always, kid,” Tony replies. “Always.”

Peter gets bundled up on the coach with a number of soft, fuzzy blankets and a hot water bottle pressed against his abdomen. They eat cold pizza while A New Hope drones on quietly in the background. Peter still feels like shit, but he’s a little more relaxed about it now, safe and warm in the penthouse with Tony—and a myriad of others, such as the doctors—to help if need be.

—

Peter wakes up squirming and crying in pain, his stomach aching. He’s shivering too, and he registers the pain of all these before anything else. The room is dark now; the TV and lights are off. Peter can just make out the faint print of the time—3:37—from the clock sitting on the kitchen island. He also realizes that Tony is still here, asleep at the opposite end of the couch. 

He wants to call out to him, say that he feels a little like he’s dying and is really actually scared he might, even though this happens every time and he always ends up okay at the end of the week. A cramp kicks in and Peter’s leg jerks out, jostling the pillow by Tony’s head. 

Tony shoots up like a firecracker. Ever the light sleeper—Peter, meanwhile, can and has slept through fire alarms. 

“Kid? What’s wrong?” Tony asks worriedly when Peter only stares at him like a deer in headlights. Another wave of pain hits and Peter’s face screws up in a wince.

“My stomach hurts,” Peter admits lowly after a long moment of tense silence. The next thing he knows he’s being rushed downstairs, a blanket still tangled in his legs as Tony carries him like he’s a little kid. It would freak Peter out, suddenly being picked up and transported, if he didn’t know Tony’s been witness to him saying that a gunshot wound isn’t “that big a deal.” Peter rests his head against Tony’s shoulder and lets himself get ushered to the med bay. 

“You’re freezing,” Tony mutters as he walks down the hallway and pushes through the final door to medical. The lights here are blinding and Peter hides his face with a groan. “Burning up with fever before you fell asleep and now you’re colder than Cap when he got broken out of that ice cube.”

“Spidersicle,” Peter murmurs with a grin. It’s a dumb joke that’s been made a hundred times, but Tony laughs at it anyway. 

Over the next hour, Peter is poked and prodded so many times that he almost punches a nurse in the face. Well, not really, and Dr. Cho’s assistant is probably very nice, but if she doesn’t stop staring, Peter swears he’s going to. The room he’s in is bare too—bed, window, chair. Not even a TV, nothing to distract himself with besides his own thoughts.

“I would recommend birth control,” Dr. Cho says to Tony. “There’s nothing medically wrong with him; his menstrual cycle is simply far more intense. Unfortunately, it’s just like that for some people.”

Tony glances over at Peter, who buries his head in his hands and wishes the ground would swallow him up right now. “It’s  up to you, kid.”

“And the birth control—” Peter tries not to look repulsed but he’s not sure he succeeds by the way Tony cuckles “—would help?”

“It would regulate your menstrual cycle and reduce the blood flow and pain, yes,” Dr. Cho says. 

“Then…yeah. I guess. Better than this, right?” Peter replies, gesturing to himself laid up in the hospital-esque bed. 

Dr. Cho smiles at him reassuringly before she walks out of the room. Tony sits on the edge of Peter’s bed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. 

“God, I love that woman. Would probably not be doing so hot without her.”

“Yeah, Dr. Cho’s pretty great,” Peter responds. He slumps back against his pillows with a groan. “This sucks. I hate hospitals.”

“Yeah, me too, kid. Not too many great memories here,” Tony says with a sigh. “But you’re getting help, and that’s always a positive.”

“Something like that,” Peter responds with a weak smile. “But I’m also really bored—I mean, there’s not even a TV in here! Most hospitals have that, so patients who are just lying around—like me—can have something to do.”

Tony chuckles at that and Peter continues on. “I’m hungry, too. Can I have something to eat? My stomach’s still queasy, so maybe like soup? Man, I could go for some soup right now.”

“Yes, you can get soup,” Tony responds, shaking his head. “An hour ago I thought you were dying and now you’re back to talking a mile a minute.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty resilient, I guess,” Peter says with a grin. “I always bounce back. Maybe that should be my thing, instead of ‘friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.’”

“Let’s cool it with the superhero talk. Right now, kid, you’re just Peter. No world saving, no ‘helping the little guys,’ okay? You are the little guy, and the little guy needs to rest.”

“...I really want that soup, Mr. Stark.”

Another laugh and shake of his head and Mr. Stark places an order to someone within the building to bring soup to infirmary room 13A. 

“There. Your soup’s on the way. Happy now?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, voice rawer with emotion than he anticipated. “I’m happy now.”

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Robin: [lowly] Aren’t you gonna say anything? Oscar: I haven’t decided what to say yet, pal-.. so, you better get your story straight. [Robin sighed, trudging after his father; he doubted “Levi’s a jerk n’ had it coming” was gonna cut it] Larry: Holy shit-.. tat man?! Oscar: Hey, uhm… Larry: Larry! We used t’be neighbours-.. dude, we were gutted when you moved out. Oscar: Oh, I’m sure you were. Larry: I totally didn’t reckon you were gonna make it last time I saw you-.. like I thought you were gonna be the first dead body I ever laid eyes on y’know, makin’ pals with that bathroom floor n’ all. [Oscar scoffed lightly, attempting to rid himself of Larry as quickly as possible. He couldn’t quite remember what his old neighbour was talking about, but he could guess-.. and it definitely wasn’t a conversation fit for a child’s ears] Larry: I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t remember, dude! You were pretty-… Oscar: Well, it was nice seeing you! Larry: Aye-.. hey, you still in the game by any chance..? Oscar: Bye, Larry. … Robin: Why did he say that? Oscar: Ohh, we used to play games together now n’ the-… Robin: No, the dead body thing. Oscar: I don’t know what he’s talking about, ignore him. He’s a complete moron. [Oscar silently cursed Larry as he hurried Robin along, what an idiot, bringing that up in front of a bunch of kids] Robin: Did you die?! Oscar: What, no! Robin: But it look-.. it sounded like-.. he said you d-died! Oscar: No, he didn’t! Do I look dead to you? [Oscar sighed as Robin stammered something incoherent and jammed a frayed sleeve into his teary eyes-.. stupid fucking Larry and his big stupid mouth] Oscar: Robin, buddy-.. look, I’m fine! [Oscar tugged Robin closer and squeezed his arm with reassurance, murmuring softly] Oscar: Look, it-.. it was just a tiny accident when I was younger, okay? He’s being overly dramatic about it. I wouldn’t be here if I’d actually died, would I? Hell, neither would you! He’s talking nonsense, honey. Robin: B-but… [Robin choked back a sob as he threw himself at Oscar, catching himself before exclaiming that he’d literally just seen his father’s lifeless body right in front of him-.. well, Larry had] Oscar: I think today’s been a bit too much, hasn’t it? [Robin nodded somberly against Oscar’s shoulder, glad to be given a free excuse for his ridiculous outburst] Oscar: C’mon, let’s get outta here. … [Levi stared over his shoulder as his father practically dragged him toward the car. He’d be lucky to see the light of day for the next month at least and Robin got a hug-.. how the hell was that fair?!] Keith: Do you think I’ve got nothing better to do?! Get in the damn car!

[nerdishpursuits]

Long term, I suspect I’m going to enjoy the Marta & Pelayo friendship, assuming it'll be a dynamic that includes Fina.

Most likely, Pelayo will be a confidant for Marta the way Carmen is for Fina. And Marta sorely needs that. She hasn’t had any real friends of her own and I’m hoping Pelayo ends up being one. I’m not saying she should blindly trust him. That should be earned and not freely given. Feeling indebted to someone, or moved by the very notion of having a friend, should not be the sole determining factor. But setting all qualms aside, the potential for a rewarding friendship is there and I look forward to seeing where this goes.

It also stands to reason Marta feels at ease with him because of their shared worldview: business people, similar education, used to the same social circles, both guarding a secret, both belonging to a sexual minority. And while I’d love for Marta to develop this kind of friendship with Carmen and / or Luz? They are both her employees, which does make things a little awkward. For as supportive as Carmen and Luz are? Their life experience is also vastly different.

Case in point? If Marta and Pelayo end up becoming good friends? I’ll call them Mrs. MarPel 😄

May I also just say I love the way Marta was able to talk about Fina and their relationship without fear of judgement? She looked so relieved, so free, so overjoyed. So proud of Fina and their love, so protective of it and their life together. She even admits she’d considered setting aside her ambitions, for love. And we all know, if push came to shove, Marta would. Also? Points for Pelayo as well: he seemed just as content with this turn of events and quite fascinated with the knowledge that people like them can aspire to a happy life, loving who they love.

I guess watching Marta and Fina together will make Pelayo reconsider his approach to relationships? Right now, he's solely focused on business and doesn't think love is of any consequence. As such, he might end up changing his mind and start wishing for something emotionally fulfilling.

That being said? I look forward to seeing how he becomes Fina’s friend as well. It’ll be rocky in the beginning, until Fina learns the truth, but they’ll get there. A bit of drama beforehand though, as befitting the genre. Ultimately, Marta’s loyalty and love reside with Fina. I don’t think she’ll keep anything from her, it’s not their style. But until it’s all out in the open between the three of them? Let’s enjoy their back and forth on this topic. It only adds to their dynamic and grows their relationship further.

I mean. They’re all so dramatic, I can’t.

Special mention to Damián’s increasingly confused mien. He can’t quite pinpoint what’s happening with Pelayo and it’s giving him whiplash. It also stands to reason he doesn't feel at ease, suspecting Pelayo of being little more than a calculated businessman, and fears for Marta. Damián picking up the torch from Isidro and becoming a frontrunner in Sustainable Parenting? Who's seen him before and who sees him now.

Fast forward to today's episode, 230, and the preview for 231. Fina's talk with Pelayo has been lovely and, hopefully marks the start to what, eventually, could become a long-term friendship. Let it not be said Fina's isn't the first to try and rectify any mistakes she feels she's made. Ever has she been a champion of the underdog, an advocate for justice and fairness. Besides, she's generous and fiercely loyal to the handful of people she considers friends. Will Pelayo make this shortlist? Time will tell. I don't think it's quite black and white with him and that, for now, his political ambitions take precedence to the point of Pelayo dismissing any desire for genuine connection. I assume his character growth will derive from knowing Marta and Fina. After all ... to know Marta is to know Fina and vice versa. They're inseparable and indivisible. As for tomorrow's preview? 1. While Tasio has made some progress, I am not on board with him learning about Marta and Fina just yet. Carmen's poorly disguised, guilty expression all but confirms his suspicions and I will say, that little mocking laugh he lets escape? As if the very thought of two women together were absurd and laughable? As if Marta and Fina being a couple is ludicrous? A little grating, not going to lie. However, it aligns with who Tasio has been shown to be: his heart is often in the right place but he's also not the smartest bulb in the chandelier. He's also a gossip and, more often than not, a chauvinist. He still has a lot to learn. Maybe knowing the truth about his sister, and his wife's best friend, will help loosen those bigoted screws and bolts? Time will tell. But if anyone is wont to have a loose tongue, in the wrong place and at the wrong time? It's dear ol' Tasio. I suspect Fina won't be happy to learn Carmen has dropped the ball? Marta either? Who knows. 2. I did not expect Pelayo to bring up the marriage idea so soon. It feels rather out of left field, but this is novela-timeline for you and needs to be taken as such. I confess I was expecting something along the lines of Pelayo being almost found out, prompting Marta & Fina to come to his rescue. Or something of that ilk. I definitely expected more scenes with them getting to know each other, so their friendship feels more organic. As such, it comes across like they've known each other for two weeks. All aboard the Chums Express, destination Grand Make-Believe Station. Oh well. Watch me suspend my disbelief but continue with my raised-eyebrows routine (maybe she's born with it - maybe it's Make-Believe). In all honesty, marrying Marta would solve a lot of Pelayo's problems as a rich, single man of the 1950's. They'd be each others beards, they can have their separate lives, no bedroom duties involved and they can be the best of friends. To the outside world? They'd look like a couple that really gets along. Marta might as well be wearing a bow: given Pelayo's current and future ambitions, she's the perfect solution. We'll have to see what Marta and Fina stand to gain from all of this. That being said, per the norm, we have to watch the actual episode as previews are often misleading. I, for one, am not against Marta, Fina and Pelayo banding together and becoming the 3 MerryQueers. Remains to be seen how they handle this narrative and what new curves they have in store for us. For all the wonderings and ponderings? We know nothing and speculation is our currency. As mentioned in my previous ramble? (which I surprisingly managed to keep pretty short?) I look forward to seeing where the story leads us and am not worried in the slightest about anything thrown our way. The sails have been raised again, the drama-flag hoisted high. On to navigate those turbulent waters. P.s If anyone made it so far? I commend you, brave and intrepid reader. I managed to make myself cross-eyed. Alas, you're a brave soldier of the interwebs.