#my contact picture in your phone for 2 or 3 years

[glaivegirl]

that's her hand, my bunny ears

id never have been able to break free and begin seeing myself as a girl and as wanting that, wanting to be such a feminine beast

id never have been able to explore being trans without her

maybe not never, but she's why i got there sooner, she's why i could see myself in those early days, she's who had my back

she saw me being a woman, or whatever i am, as good and happy and beautiful. she was who made me really see it as something that could be good instead of something awful and a nuclear-level wrong.

she's why transness and me being a transfem, she's why i could see it without only focusing on the shame and the humiliation that comes with knowing how people react to trans people, and how people react to some lumpy, awkward fat dude saying he wants to be a girl

but she was there, and she loved me and how i wore dresses and makeup and how i still held some womanly way about me when i was in jeans and a hardhat or a green apron, trying to act like a normal masculine guy even at starbucks

she was all that let me stop being afraid juuuust enough to see myself, and i know i dont owe all my life to her

but i when i think if she wasnt there and i think of struggling with that any more than i already was, any longer than i already was; it sounds fucking horrific

and it sounds horrific because it was, and being in the closet is torture and agony and suffering; but being too scared or ashamed or guilty to see yourself? to see only a closet when you look at yourself?

fuck that was hell. even if everything just gets worse and even if id have had some cushy $40k/yr salarycock job rn, if i wouldnt be able to see myself, to really see her, that sounds like a hell i just couldnt handle. And i know, i handled it and it was worse than anything. And it broke me worse and worse every year

I cant imagine the hell i was in going on longer than it did, i cant imagine how much it would suck to live like that, the whole thing just getting worse

maybe its not like that for everyone, but i was breaking, all of me was just breaking, and i cant imagine my life if she wasnt there to help me slow down the breaking, i cant imagine how much life wouldve sucked so much worse if she wasnt there with me, noticing the things i was noticing, noticing other things i didnt see, trying to see the things i saw and she didnt and loving it, feeling the joy of it, excited to see whatever it was pop out suddenly like a rodent blending into some dirt and wood and then you see a cute animal out of nowhere, it was kinda like that

she really helped me see myself, i owe her my life for that, and her love was true and she knew me, all of me, and she was always ready to accept it and love it and grow with it

she was why it eventually felt okay to be trans and to be myself and live instead of something else that isnt quite death

she ended that hell early, she said it was okay for me to be girly

she made me believe it was okay for me to be womanly and a girl and it was a miracle that she pulled that off

she was an angel

she remains a miracle

ill always miss you more than i can fucking stand

ill never stop

ill never stop missing you, kat

i owe my freedom to you, i owe you my life

funny, ha-ha, stupid irony or coincidence always sucks so bad when it wraps around you

but its true

you saved my life, kat

you made me feel safe

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 2

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : the BAU team works the case, you get to help word count : 2.3k warning : canon-typical violence, mention of violence and sexual violence A/N : thank you all so much for all the love on part 1 of this !!! I love getting feedback, it's incredibly motivating ! I will probably do a part 3 :)) Also, my cat is sitting next to me as I write this, which I find quite funny

part 1, part 3, part 4

Back at the police station, Spencer had trouble focusing on the case. His mind kept wandering over to you, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing. He was on edge and the entire team could feel it. Hotch pulled him to the side to ask him if he wanted to give you a phone call. Reid refused, but settled on sending you a text, something he never usually did while working. Something he never usually did because he wasn't the biggest fan of technology and also because he couldn't decipher how you were actually feeling without hearing your voice and all the quirks in the way you spoke which gave away your real feelings.

Sent by Dr. Ironed Socks : < Hey. How are you doing? > Sent by You : < Ok, I'm having a tea on the couch. Geoff is in REM sleep on my lap. Thx for checking <3 >

Your text was followed by a pixelly picture of your slightly overweight (Spencer couldn't use that term to describe Geoffrey around you or you'd get upset) orange cat sprawled out on your lap, legs and arms askew, fast asleep. Spencer felt a small wave of relief spread through him. You were okay for now. Geoffrey was looking after you. Later, he'd help you process and give you all the tools necessary to get over such a traumatic event and move on. It was almost as if that was in his job description.

Returning to the room where the BAU team had settled in, Spencer sent Hotch a grateful nod. Hotch moved his lips in what resembled a small smile, Reid couldn't be sure. "Okay," Garcia's voice resounded from the speaker sitting in the middle of the round table, "I've contacted all of Mary Goldman's professors and it turns out she didn't go to class today. Her first class was at 11:30 but she never showed up." "None of the students we interrogated on campus had seen her after 10:15," Emily spoke up. "Spencer's roommate saw her between 10:30 and 11:00," Rossi intervened. "Okay, we'll get her to come in," Hotch affirmed. Spencer's whole body tensed. You had been the last person to see the victim. His mind was so busy reeling, thinking about everything you'd have to go through as the most promising witness, that he missed Morgan's question.

"Reid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. "Uh, sorry, what did you say?" "What was the time of death according to the coroner?" "14:30," Rossi answered. "It was 14:26, actually," corrected Reid. Rossi rolled his eyes. "Okay, so the unsub has his victim between around, let's say 11:15, and 14:26," Rossi shot a pointed look at Spencer, "that's about three hours and 11 minutes. In those three hours, he had time to take the victim someplace where neither of them would be seen or heard, beat and sexually assault her, and finally dump her in smack-dab in front of the university." "He's definitely organised and wants to send a message," Emily thought aloud. "But what is he trying to say? Look at what I can do? You can't stop me?" "Friends," interrupted Garcia, "I'm going to need at least some information before I even try to get anything out of a search. He's taking and leaving them on campus, so I'm guessing he doesn't necessarily need a vehicle. Does he live in the area?" "Yes, he's local or knows the area, he knows these women and he most likely knows the campus. Search for white males, early twenties with a record of violence and sexual misconduct. Cross-reference that with victims of reported abuse and sexual abuse in the last twenty five years. Run background checks for all university staff. Also have a look at similar victims and MOs in this area in the last five years. This may not be his first time," spoke Hotch. "On it, I'll get back to you when I've found something." "Thanks, Garcia."

You'd taken a shower as soon as you'd arrived home. The water was too hot and you'd scrubbed your skin too hard but getting out, you felt a slight bit better. Heavily disliking the way you still felt, you opted for a cup of Earl Grey tea with milk and sugar. Settling on the couch with a steaming cup in your hands, you tucked your legs beneath you and sighed.

Images of Mary's dead body were printed onto the inside of your eyelids. You still couldn't believe it. Your mind reeled as you tried to think of an explanation for it all. Whichever path you followed, you came up empty. You could not comprehend or imagine any reason of taking the life of an innocent person, especially in such a violent way. Luckily for you, you still didn't know the extent of the violence.

A familiar noise pulled you from your dark thoughts. Geoffrey had just jumped down from his cat tree. You watched him stretch and languidly walk over to you. He meowed once before jumping onto the couch, right next to you. You moved your legs so that you were sitting cross-legged and scratched his head. He purred in delight and pressed himself against you. He sniffed at your tea with an unimpressed look before climbing into your lap before letting himself flop down on his side, stretching out his appendages. You cooed as his pink toe-beans stretched too and laid a hand on his belly, scratching gently. The vibrations of his purrs had a calming effect on you. "Are you trying to make me forgive you for biting my ankle the other day when I wouldn't give you any more treats? You know Spencer says you're a bit overweight, I was just trying to get him to stop body-shaming you, my love..."

A few minutes later, you get a text from Spencer. About thirty minutes after that, you get a phone call from him. "Hey, would you mind coming to the station? It turns out you're the last person to have seen the victim."

"I'll do the cognitive interview." "Reid, I don't think that's a good idea." "Look, yes I'm invested, I know that. But I also know her and-" "Reid, no. This is the reason we such have procedures." "But I-" "Reid." Hotchner's tone translated finality. Spencer's shoulders sank in defeat. He had figured that if he had been the one conducting the interview, maybe it would have been less traumatic for you. He hated the idea of not being there for you, with you, during such a trying moment. He bit his bottom lip.

"I'll do it," volunteered Morgan. Reid felt slight comfort at that, Morgan was one of the few people he would entrust his life to. He could entrust you to him for the interview, even if he didn't like it. Hotchner nodded. "Reid, you work with Garcia, focus on finding other victims with the same MO to help build the profile." Reid nodded and went to find his colleagues.

When you entered the police station, it was almost like he could feel your presence. He came to find you straight away, not wanting to leave alone even for a second. "Hey." "Hey." Reid immediately pulled you in for a meaningful embrace, burying his face in your hair. The smell of your shampoo, conditionner and body wash were bliss to his nostrils. They were a promise that you were here, you were safe, you were okay. Morgan watched from afar, a small smile playing at his lips. He knew Reid, and the hug you exchanged was both too hasty and too tight to be anything casual. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry to have to make you come in, but they're going to do- well I wanted to do it but they wouldn't let me, so it's-"

A slightly older, very muscular and gentle man stepped forward, holding out his hand to you. You shook it. "I'm Agent Derek Morgan. I'm one of Spencer's colleagues. I'll be the one conducting the interview, seeing as there's a conflict of interest with you and Spencer. I hope you can understand that." You introduced yourself and looked at Spencer before answering Derek. "Yes, I understand, it's- it's not a problem." "Great, if you could just follow me, please?" You licked your lips and sent Spencer a look, which he answers with a nod of reassurance and a small smile, before following Derek.

"You can close your eyes if it makes you more comfortable." You were sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair. The light above you was ticking at uneven intervals and the room smelt of worry. You didn't know how you could get any more comfortable, but listening to Morgan's even, alto voice helped a bit. "Okay." You closed your eyes. "You told Agent Rossi that you crossed the victim somewhere around quarter to eleven. Is that correct?" "Uh, yes." "Where did you cross her?" "In the main hall." "Where were you going?" "Um, I had just been to the bathroom and I was heading to my Anglo-American Literary Survey class." "Okay, can you describe to me everything about the moment when you crossed the victim? What you saw, what you felt, smelled, heard? Was anything out of the ordinary?" You opened your eyes.

"Um, I'm sorry, but could you stop referring to Mary as the victim, please? She has a name, which is Mary Goldman, and a victim wasn't the only thing she was." Derek was slightly surprised at your comment but understood where you came from. Separating from the name was a way for profilers to gain some distance from the horrendous violence. Personally knowing the victim, you didn't have such luxury. "Of course, I apologise. What did you feel when you crossed Mary? Was anything out of place?"

You nodded in thanks and tried to bring yourself back to that moment. It seemed unreal, how such a small interaction suddenly held such importance. "O-Okay, uh, my hands are still a bit wet. There weren't any towels in the bathroom. I saw her after she saw me and we exchanged a smile. I thought she looked really pretty today, but I didn't tell her. We really don't know each other that well." "Okay, that's good. Was she wearing anything out of habit for her?" "Uhh, no, she was wearing a pleated skirt and a sweater vest. She often dresses like that, I don't know exactly why I thought she looked pretty. I guess she just looked happy. Nothing was out of the ordinary." "Good. Could you hear or smell anything?" "Yeah, well, there were the voices of other people in the hall. I can hear girls laughing. I smell Mary's perfume when she walks past me. She always wears the same one, it's Chanel, Mademoiselle Coco specifically, she told me once at a party."

"Okay, do you know where she's going?" "I- yeah, she's heading for her Behavioural Neuroscience class." "Is she walking in the right direction?" "Uh... Yes, yes, she is. She's not in too much of a hurry, though, she doesn't like the teacher." "So why is she heading there already, then? The class only starts at 11:30." "She likes to reread the material from the previous week before the class starts." "Why doesn't she like the teacher?" "No one does, all he does is read off his slides and he's a jerk when it comes to grading."

Morgan suppressed a smile at your comment. "Okay, thank you so much, Y/N, this was very helpful." "Was it? I didn't feel like-" "Yes, I promise you've just shared some crucial pieces of information." "O-Okay, if you say so."

All eyes were on Morgan as he entered the briefing room. He put his paper coffee cup down on the table and looked at Hotch. "Nothing was out of the ordinary. Mary was wearing habitual clothes and the same perfume she always wore. She was heading to the same class, as she did weekly, at the same time. My guess is this guy knew her routine and did a blitz attack. Y/N gave me the number of Mary's best friend, and according to her, Mary didn't have any guys in her life except for her dad and brother."

Hotchner nodded. Spencer couldn't help but feeling proud of you for being able to go through with the interview and to provide such useful information, too. He'd have to congratulate you when he got home. "Pretty boy and I found three similar victims in the last three years. They weren't connected to this case because they were in another university, just on the other side of the state line. Last year, three girls, university students, were killed, same MO, all disappeared for about three hours before being found dead in front of the university, they attended," Garcia spoke from the speaker. Spencer nodded in agreement to her words. "What did the police find back then?" asked Emily. "Nothing, they- uh, did all they could during the month that the three murders happened but after the third victim, the unsub stopped," Spencer answered. "Stopped?" Emily repeated, brows drawn together in confusion. "Yeah, he just- stopped killing and disappeared. Our best guess is that something triggered him then and that the same thing triggered him now."

"Oh, another thing," Garcia sounded reluctant to share the information she had, "I looked at all the victims' pictures and... well, I'll just send them to you, that'll be easier."

Spencer's blood ran ice cold as he stared at the four girls on the screen. They all looked exactly like you.

Taglist : (all those of you who wanted a part two <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina

[dakotalun]

"Oops" | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: Part 1--Eddie "accidentally" sends a tasteful pic to his best friend.

warnings: mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), strong language, description of naked Eddie

word count: 3.4k

Part 2

a/n: went a little crazy at 3am the other night and wrote this. Part two will be up later this week!! Luv y'all <3

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie is your best friend of many years, the two of you being inseparable from the moment you met. So when you got a text from him tonight you don’t think much of it, figuring it was just a dumb meme he saw or a random thing from today.

What you didn’t expect to see was a picture of Eddie standing in his bathroom, towel slung over his shoulders with a prominent boner happening.

His hair is wet as if he just got out of the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry it yet. The long dark brown locks stick to his neck and chest in a way that can only be described as godly. The tattoos on his skin are glistening but covered by the towel around his neck and as you move your eyes downward the path of hair that leads to his dick is delicious.

And talking about his dick it is, mag-fucking-nificent! The way that it hangs there, the tip swollen and red, leaking the smallest bit of precum. It has your mouth watering.

You nearly choked on your own spit when you saw it. Never in a million years did you think that Eddie would be sending you of all people nudes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wonder what he was packing but you never really indulged in those thoughts, until now. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen, memorizing every little detail in the photo.

Eddie sends another text but you’re too distracted to see what it is. Then a stream of texts start flooding in from him.

‘SHIT!’

‘I DID NOT NMEAN TO SNED YIU THAT!’

‘IGNORE THE PICTUREA’

‘HOW THE HELL DO I DELETE THE PIC?!?!?!’

‘GOD I AM SOSOSOSOSOSOSSOO SOORRY!!’

You giggle at his frantic typing, noting all the typos. Curiosity gets the better of you and you scroll up a little to see what he had said after he sent the picture. You’re eyes go wide at the words displayed on your screen.

‘Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Jerked off twice while in the shower and I’m still hard. Wish you were here with me right now ;)’

You had no clue who this was really meant for but if it was meant for you you would 100 percent be on your way to him right now. The bottom half of the picture stares back at you as your eyes acan over the text again and again. You can’t deny the small hint of wetness that you feel on your underwear while looking at the two.

Twice? He came twice and is still hard. Whoever he thought about must be really hot if he can go 3 rounds without breaking a sweat. Could he go more?

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone receiving a call, from none other than Eddie himself. You sit up in bed and pull your knees towards you as you answer his call.

“Sweetheart I am so so so sorry I sent you that. It was clearly meant for someone else. If I had known it was your contact that I was on I would have never sent that at all. I want you to know that I don’t go around sending nudes to everyone or anything, I’m not a slut I was just-”

“Eddie it’s fine. No need to apologize. I figured it wasn’t meant for me anyways.” It pains you a little at the thought that someone else was supposed to receive that message from your best friend.

“I’m still sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” His voice sounds smooth like spreading butter onto fresh pancakes.

“Hmm,” You fake thinking about what you want even though you know exactly what it is you want, “You’ve gotta tell me who that text was really meant for.” Silence. For a whole minute there is just silence on Eddie’s end, you’d think he was dead if it weren’t for the fast pace of his breathing.

“Sweetheart,” The nickname is not helping the situation you have going on right now, “You don’t mean that. Can’t I just take you to breakfast or buy you a new outfit?”

“Nope.” You respond popping the ‘p’ as you say it. “Either tell me who it was meant for or I send it to the groupchat.” You were bluffing. You couldn’t let the others see him like that, that was for your eyes only. Not that anyone needed to know that.

“You wouldn’t dare,” His voice turned deep and threatening.

“Try. Me.” You challenge back.

Eddie groans, “Fine. You win,” A smile spreads across your face, “It was meant for Callie. This girl in my chem class, we’ve been talking for a little bit.”

You’re a mix of emotions right now; happy that Eddie found someone he’s interested in and took his shot, confused because he never told you about it, sad because you thought he trusted you with things like that, and slightly jealous because you want to be the one Eddie sent nudes to, purposefully.

“Sweetheart? You still there?” You completely forget that you’re still on the phone with Eddie until he says something.

“Uh yeah yeah I’m here. I’m um happy for you Ed. Glad you found someone. Look I gotta go to sleep, big test tomorrow, talk later. Bye.” You hang up before he can say anything else. 

Why did you feel this way about all this? You shouldn’t be thinking of Eddie in this way, he was your best friend. Best friends don’t think about going down on each other, or the way it would feel to have his cock inside you, or the moans he would release when he finally cums in you.

You shake it off and lay back down, setting your phone on your nightstand to charge. You try for half an hour to fall asleep but your mind can’t stop thinking about that damn picture. So you unlock your phone and go back to your messages with Eddie, looking to see if he deleted the picture or not. And to your luck it was the latter, the picture and text below still there for your viewing pleasure.

You’re still horny from the initial thought of him so it doesn’t take long for your hand to wander under your shorts and underwear to your clit. The thought that your fingers were his and the way he would whisper in your ear egging you on to finish.

The images of him jerking himself off in the shower flood you, his hand on the cold tiles, water hitting his back as he fists his cock, rubbing it slowly at first but becoming impatient and going faster until he cums all over the wall and his hand.

The image of his face when he does and the moans that would leave his mouth is what throws you over the edge yourself. Wishing it were him between your legs pulling it from you not your own fingers. Finally your body is tired enough to let you go to sleep, dreaming of Eddie once more.

---

You’re sitting with Eddie and the rest of Hellfire at lunch a week later. Neither of you have talked about what happened that night, both too embarrassed to say anything.

Things were normal though, Eddie would pick you up and drop you off to and from school. You’d talk on the phone every night about whatever happened that day that the other wasn’t there for. You liked the thought that the text didn’t hinder your friendship but you can’t help but be a little jealous about Eddie fucking someone else. It’s not like you were expecting him to confess his hidden undying love for you the next day but the realization that Eddie really did send you that accidentally; hurt.

The freshman are talking about some video game coming out when Eddie lean over to you.

“Whatcha’ thinking about?” There’s a smile on his face, one that you always loved seeing.

“Nothing,” You go back to eating your fruit.

“Alrighty then. Hey I was wondering what time you wanted to come over tonight?”

Your eyes grow wide, mind going back to the text, “Why?”

“Um it’s Wednesday. Horror movie marathon night, remember?” His head cocks to the side a little, his hair falling into his face. It reminds you of a dog questioning what it’s owner has in their hand.

“Oh right yeah. Um I don’t know if I can make it tonight.” That was a lie, you had nothing going on. But being in the trailer alone with Eddie after knowing what he looks like naked is not what you need right now.

“Awe come on! I rented Scream, Saw, and Halloween for tonight. You can’t make me watch them all alone,” He lowers his voice and leans closer, “What if I need protection from the bad guys?” His big doe eyes large and pleading with you.

You roll your eyes and push his face away from you, “Ugh fine. I’ll be there, how’s 8?”

“Perfect! I’ll order the pizzas, do you think you could make those amazing cookies for us?”

“You mean for you?”

“No. I mean for us, I would never eat all the cookies myself.”

“You did like 3 weeks ago! There were 30 cookies there and I had none of them.” You stare at him as he thinks back to then.

“Nope don’t remember which means it didn’t happen. So will you?” There are those puppy dog eyes again.

“Whatever but I swear if you eat all of them again I’ll castrate you.”

Eddie’s hands fly to his groin, protecting it from your threat. “Ouch, sweetheart. Didn’t know you hated my dick that much.”

I don’t. Just hate that it’s not mine. You thought, but you just rolled your eyes and continued on eating lunch until the bell rang.

---

Eddie rushed around his room looking for his favorite shirt when you showed up for movie night. You let yourself in, per usual and set the cookies down on the coffee table before heading to Eddie’s room. He was squating in front of his closet when you come in, you don’t announce yourself just stand there staring at his back.

He got a few new tattoos since last summer, two of which on his back. A skull and crossbones along with a knife wrapped in barbed wire. You haven’t seen them in person yet, it still being too cold to sit out in the sun. But looking at them now was a pleasure, the detail popping out as his muscles flex.

Eddie huffs and stands, defeated about not finding the shirt he wanted. He turns around and finds you standing in his doorway.

“Jesus! Why didn’t you say you were here?” His hand is over his heart as he catches his breath from the unintentional jump scare.

“I texted you like 20 minutes ago that I was on my way. Figured you knew I’d be here soon,” You say as you enter his room fully to sit on his bed.

“I did not see the text, I was in the shower,” The mention of this brought back memories of the photo, and what you did whilst looking at it, “Anyways pizza should be here soon and I’ve got beers and soda in the fridge.”

Eddie walks around you to his dresser, grabbing a random shirt and throwing it on. You’re sad at the loss of his bare skin but quickly shake the thought away. You get up from his bed and head to his living room, Eddie following in toe.

“So what are we watching first? I’ve seen Scream a few times but the other two I haven’t seen,” Eddie remarks as he grabs two beers from the fridge, opening them before handing you one.

You mumble a thanks before taking a sip, the bitter liquid coating your tastebuds. “I’ve seen Scream and Saw but not Halloween. Heard good things about it though, at least that’s what Robin said, Steve had other opinions.”

“Lemme guess pretty boy hated it and wished he never saw it?” Eddie laughs as he sets up Halloween on the tv.

“Yeah pretty much,” You laugh along. The thought of your friend sitting there watching the movie curled up in a blanket next to Robin bringing a smile to your face.

Eddie finishes setting up the movie and walks back the kitchen. He grabs a bag of chips and some dip before returning to your side on the couch. He opens the chips and pops one in his mouth, crunching it loudly.

You smile at the normalcy of everything right now, it’s as if nothing ever happened between the two of you. Which if we’re being honest nothing really did happen, Eddie just sent you a nude on accident. It’s not like you kissed or anything. Not that you’d hate it if you did.

You snack on the chips and dip with him while waiting for the pizza to show up, never starting the movie without it. The two of you talk about nothing in particular while you sit there. Eddie tells you about the upcoming DnD campaign he’s been working on.

His eyes lighting up and hands flying around erratically as he explains what he planned, the animation in his character brings an even bigger smile to your face.

Just as Eddie concludes his explanation, inviting you to come sit in and watch it at the end, the doorbell rings notifying the both of you that the pizza was here and it was now time for movie night to begin.

Eddie pays the guy and happily walks over to the couch and sets the food on the table in front of the two of you, he can’t even wait til the movie starts playing to begin eating. You laugh at him as he opens and closes his mouth quickly trying to cool the hot pizza in his mouth, you just hit play and start watching the movie.

The pizza is gone, same with half the bag of chips and the cookies. Eddie actually let you eat  a few of them before he scarfed down the others. You’re nearing the end of Scream, the third and final movie of the night when you look at your phone for the time. 12:25 stares back at you, you groan knowing that your parents are going to kill you for coming home so late on a school night.

Eddie hears you and turns to see why you made that noise. You just wave him off and go back to watching the movie, watching as Skeet Ulrich gets shot for the final time in the head. A few minutes later the credits roll and Eddie turns off the tv, letting the trailer fade into silence.

“Wanna tell me what that groaning was about?” Eddie asks turning to face you completely.

“Nothing, just didn’t realize that it had gotten so late. Parents are gonna kill me if I go home at this hour.”

“So just stay here,” He says with no hesitation, “You still have a few clothes here after last movie night. They’re just siting in my drawer.”

You think about it for a minute. You and Eddie have had sleepovers in the past, nothing special about them, just two people sharing a bed, occasionally cuddling because of the small size of it. But now the thought of it made you nervous, having him so close to you, so near yet not being able to touch him. It killed you, but it’s better than going back home right now and having your mom and dad rip you a new one.

“Alright, I’m gonna need to shower though. Coach had us run the mile today at practice and I still feel disgusting.”

“Yeah no problem, you go ahead and shower, I’ll clean up here.” He stands and starts clearing the trash from the table. You get up too and head into his bathroom, but no matter how hot the water is or how long you stand under it you can't get the thought of the picture and the words under it out of your mind.

He was right here, jerking off to the thought of someone. You scold yourself for thinking about him like that, again. But you couldn’t help it.

Recently you’ve thought about him more and more; his smile, the dimples that show when he’s really happy, how animatedly he talks, the way his hair is always unkempt but still looks so damn soft. You thought about him in ways you never did before seeing that picture; his arms, his muscles, his hands, his rings. Everything about him turned you on and you needed it to go away.

Eddie finished up cleaning and sat down on his bed, beer in hand while he took out his metal lunchbox for a joint. You walk into his room, towel wrapped around yourself, hair dripping wet from the shower. He stops his actions to just stare at you, the same way you did earlier that night.

“Uh could I borrow some clothes? I don’t have anything to sleep in,” You say wrapping your arms under your boobs, pushing them up ever so slightly.

Eddie clears his throat, “Yeah, sure.” He gets up and walks over to his dresser, rummaging through it to look for something you can wear tonight. He pulls out a pair on your underwear that you “left” there a while back and one of his Hellfire shirts. You denied his offer of some pants, saying they would be way to big on you and you’d rather just sleep in the shirt.

Eddie’s mind went straight to the gutter at that thought, you sleeping next to him, in just his Hellfire shirt and a pair of underwear he stole from you. His dick was growing hard just thinking about it. He quickly got back to looking for his joint and lighting it upon it’s appearance. He took a few hits while you changed in the bathroom, his mind slowly fogging over.

You return, hair still slightly wet with the towel in your hand. You toss it into his hamper before laying on his bed, grabbing his beer and taking a sip. You lay back and close your eyes, letting the serenity of this moment wash over you. Eddie offers you a hit but you decline, being that you don’t ever mix weed and booze together.

He finishes the joint while you finish his beer. The two of you just sitting there with the light sound of whatever record Eddie has playing. Your thoughts are quiet for the most part, just soaking in the time with your best friend, until you think of something. A question you’ve been meaning to ask for a little bit.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He responds head leaning back onto the wall where a headboard should be.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, hit me.” You reach your hand out and hit him in the thigh.

“Ouch! Not literally, I meant with the question, sweetheart.”

“I know,” You giggle.

“Brat,” He mumbles back.

“Anyways, I was gonna ask -and you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to it’s just something I’ve been thinking about- but did you really not know it was me you were sending that picture to?” The words lay heavy on your tongue as you say them aloud. You’ve been thinking about this for a while, it’s hard not to.

How did he not know it was you he was texting, your name was right there at the top of the screen. And if he was sending it to someone else how could he not double-check to make sure he wasn’t sending it to someone like Wayne or Robin.

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about the best way to tell you that, yes he did know it was you he was sending it to. And yes he knew it was stupid but he wanted to try something to see if you felt the same way about him that he does you. Eddie’s loved you for about a year and a half now, never saying anything to anyone in fear of running your friendship.

But that night he was watching a show and one of the characters did this thing where they pretended to send a text to someone “they didn’t mean to”, to see how they’d respond. He thought that maybe this was an easy way of figuring out how you felt about him. But when you didn’t respond to his photo or texts he got scared and called you. Needing to clarify what he sent, and why.

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis

[bbyquokka]

blow me instead?

– “Why should I blow out the candles, when you can just blow me instead?” prompt

pairing | lee felix x gender-neutral reader

genre | smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship ; dom felix ; oral sex (blowjob) ; finger sucking ; cum swallowing ; deep throating

words | 2.6k ~ ( 2,693 ) + 2 fake texts !

notes | a lil smth for felix's bday. jisung's will be posted at a later date when i've finished it :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

you forgot. you’ve forgotten the most important day of the year and you are currently kicking yourself for it. it’s felix’s birthday, the one day of the year that you look forward to every single year – but for some unknown reason, this year you forgot.

maybe it’s because you’ve both been really busy that you haven’t given it a second thought. you’re always well prepared for things like this, but this year it slipped your mind.

you knew you forgotten something but you couldn't tell what. you had that nagging feeling in the back of your mind but you pushed it to the side. “i’ll figure it out later” you always told yourself only to forget – once again.

it wasn't until the day before, did you looked at your calendar and see ‘15th sept’ circled and decorated in hearts, labelled ‘felix’s bday!!’ did you panic. that nagging feeling quickly turned into a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. worry and panic washing over you and coating your skin in a cold sweat.

it was way into the night to go to the store to pick something up. everything was closed. you thought about making him something but realised that you don't have the materials to do so. so a quick search on the web was your last resort. you hoped you could find something that would do next day delivery but alas, after several hours of searching and drawing up blanks, did you accept your fate.

you woke up the day of his birthday, feeling guilty and it's eating you alive. you don't think you'd be able to face to him without bursting into tears.

“i should at least wish him a happy birthday.” you mumble. you take your phone from the night stand and open up felix's contact. your thumb hovers over the green circle. 

you hesitate. lips pursed together. you overthink. you can hear his sullen tone of voice. you can see his facial expressions twisted into sadness. your heart aches and feels tight, like someone is gripping onto it.

“fuck. i can't.” you throw your phone onto the bed beside you, watching it bounce from impact before rubbing your face with your hands and groaning. “maybe a shower will help me. i’ll call him then!” 

you didn't call him. in fact, you spent the whole day avoiding him. you did pop to the store and buy a small box of cupcakes and some candles. you had this idea of surprising him by turning up at his place with a fancy birthday cake, thinking it's better than nothing,  but when the store only had cupcakes to offer, that idea was quick to fizzle out.

the cakes are now sitting on the counter, untouched and unopened. you're in your lounge wear on the sofa, TV on but you're not tuned into whatever show it's playing. instead, you're on your social media, looking at what felix has been up to the whole day.

pictures of felix with chan, jisung and hyunjin. birthday wishes from friends and family flood his profiles. you're glad he's had a good day but that guilt just won't go away. 

you've shamelessly avoided him the whole day because you couldn't face him. it's cowardly of you and you know it, but in a way, you just shut off.

you rush to your feet. your sock covered soles slapping against the floor as you rush to the door. you open it and come face to face with a not so pleased looking felix.

'“i see you're still alive.” you swallow. he sounds irritated. he's angry at you and you don't blame him.

“felix, i–”

“are you going to let me in or are we just going to stand out in the hallway?” he cuts you off. you look down at your feet and shuffle to the side, opening the door wider for him.

he walks in, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat as you close the door behind him. he notices the unopened cupcakes and pack of birthday candles by the side of them.

“so?” he starts as he looks at you. your chin is tucked into your chest, fingers fiddling with one another. you feel like a child about to be told off by a parent.

“i'm so sorry, felix.” you start, keeping your eyes glued to your feet. you don't want to make eye contact with him because the guilt of forgetting is eating you alive. it's making you feel incredibly nauseous.

“for?” his arms crossed against his chest as he looks down at you, brow raised. his authoritative and dominant aura seeps out from his pores and clouds you, suffocating you in the process.

“... i–uh…” you start, words lodged in your throat. felix lets out a small, irritated sigh. “I forgot about your birthday.” 

your voice is small and cracks. you furiously blink back the tears that are threatening to spill from your lower lash line.

“you forgot?” you nod slowly. “is that why you've been avoiding me?” you nod again. “why?”

“because i thought you'd be angry at me… like right now.” felix runs his fingers through his hair slowly.

“i’m not angry that you forgot. it happens. i’m angry because you avoided me on my birthday.”

“i know.. i’m sorry.” you look up at him and chew your bottom lip. the cupcakes catch the corner of your eye. you rush to then, opening them and the candles before sticking one in the middle of the cake.

felix follows you and watches you with eager eyes. his gaze suddenly feels hot. he licks his lips as he admires your body, eyes flickering up and down.

he's undressing you with his eyes. 

you turn around, holding the cupcake in your hand with the candle flame flickering. you present it in front of felix and smile.

“i got you cupcakes though. i know it's not much but i couldn't find anything on such short notice…” felix simply hums and looks at the cake, then you. “are you not going to blow it out?” you question after some seconds pass.

felix leans in close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear as his voice drops and becomes low and deep. his warm breath fans against your ear as he speaks.

“why should i blow out the candles when you can just blow me instead?” 

goosebumps ripple along your skin. your heart suddenly starts racing. his breath feels ticklish against your ear, body temperature suddenly rising

“f-felix!” you squeak as he pulls back, finding amusement at your shocked facial expression. 

“i assume you didn't get me a gift so i can consider a blowjob as one. and if you do a good job, maybe i’ll let you off the hook for avoiding me on my special day.” 

“i–” you swallow a little, the heat from the candle is radiating onto your chin, adding to the increase of your own body temperature.

felix keeps his brow raised before trailing his hand down his torso to his groin where he squeezes and groans softly.

you can't take your eyes off him. you watch his hand squeeze and palm himself through his jeans. his veins bulging from his hands and arms. 

he kicks his head back a little, lips parting and giving you a view of his outstretched neck. his adams apple bobbing with his swallows. soft moan and grunts leaving his parted lips.

“don't just stand there.” his deep voice brings you back down to reality. “blow me.”

you place the cake down on the counter (after you blow out the candle) before kneeling in front of felix. he looks down at you. his dominate aura making you feel small and vulnerable but excited.

you can feel the pit of your stomach tingle and bubble with excitement. warmth coating your groin. the tips of your fingers and toes feel electric from the surging feeling of excitement that's mixed in with hormones.

you reach up and slide your hands up and under his t-shirt. his warm skin hugs the tips of your fingers. the sturdiness of his abs flexing and tensing with his stomach moving in time with his breathing.

you feel his smooth skin, tracing his muscles with your fingers. the only thing that isn't smooth, however, is the small, yet noticeable happy trail that runs from his belly button and disappears below his jean waistband.

“mhm..” felix hums softly, your touch giving him goosebumps. you move your hands lower until they come into contact with the rough fabric of his denim jeans.

you look up at him, asking for permission with your eyes to which he gives with a nod of his head.

you unbutton and unzip his jeans slowly, revealing that he is wearing black designer boxer shorts. you notice how his bulge is slowly, but surely, getting bigger with each passing second as he anticipates and waits.

you pull his jeans down to his knees. you press the palm of your hand against his crotch, massaging him slowly. he huffs. his cock twitching against the palm of your hand.

you give him a few gentle squeezes. your touch is too gentle for his liking so he looks down again you with glossy eyes.

“harder.”

you oblige by wrapping your fingers around his clothed length and squeezing, hard. his hips buck slightly and a soft, deep moan falls from his lips.

you feel his warm hand pressing against your cheek as his fingers graze along your jawline before bumping against your bottom lip.

he slowly strokes your lip, chewing on his own. 

“look at me.” you look up at him, making eye contact. two of his fingers nudge between your lips, gently pushing past them as you part them.

“good.” he whispers as his fingers caress your tongue. your brows furrow together, lips wrapping around the two digits as you suck. your saliva coats felix's fingers thoroughly whilst he pushes them further into your mouth until they're fully encapsulated in the warmth of your mouth.

the hand that around his clothed length has slowed down and is now loosely gripping him. your groin feels hot and excited, tingles in your stomach as felix explores the inside of your mouth with his two fingers before pulling them out slowly.

he gives a satisfying ‘hm’ before instructing you to continue with the nod of his head.

you whimper a little and reach up with both hands, grabbing the waistband of his boxer shorts. your fingertips brush against his hot skin, causing felix to shiver and huff in excitement.

you slowly pull down his underwear, revealing his happy train and v-lines slowly before his erect penis is revealed, bouncing and twitching at the sudden cold air hitting his hot shaft.

felix lets out a small breath of relief. the feeling of being restrained is no longer an issue. his hips buck slightly as you wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it slowly.

you watch the man above you slowly crumble. his penis twitching, pre-cum leaking from his slit. his shaft is hot against the palm of your hand, tip red and a few veins protruding along the sides.

your hand glides up and down his penis, rotating at the top. you use the pad of your thumb to gently rub his tip, smearing the pre-cum and making his tip glisten.

the sensitivity gets to felix. his hips rocking a little in your hand against his will, thigh muscles noticeable twitching. his head flops to the side slightly, half-lidded eyes looking down at you and watching your every move.

you lean in and lick the side of his shaft a few times before pressing your tongue against his tip and swiping it several times. his salty pre-cum coats your tastes buds, making you feel more excited.

you rub your thighs together as the heat in your groin is unbearable at this point. you're desperate for some sort of friction and attention but you're too into pleasuring felix. with the way felix is right now, you know he is going to be selfish and chase his own high.

your free hand cups and caresses his balls. felix hums softly as you roll and squeeze them gently in your hand whilst kitten licking his tip.

“c’mon, baby. you know i need more than that.” 

you close your eyes as you wrap your lips around his tip. felix shudders and huffs a little, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. you gently suckle on his tip, swirling your tongue around it a few times before slowly lowering your head and pushing more of him into your mouth.

the corner of your lips feels stretched, mouth stuffed. you try to make your jaw slack but even that is a struggle with how thick and long felix is.

you struggle to put half of his length in, settling with a little under. you can feel his tip bumping the back of your throat and saliva is quick to accumulate in your mouth.

felix huffs and puffs, body shuddering and twitching. he reaches down and runs his fingers through your hair a few times. 

you start to bob your head slowly. your hand stroking what your mouth struggles to reach. the head and hand move in synch with each other, providing equally, if not more, pleasure to felix.

he feels the pleasure rushing through his veins and burning. his toes curl against the floorboards and his grip on your hair tightening with each suck as a way to keep him stable and grounded.

“...fuck … baby, m-more..” he pants.

you oblige, increasing speed and intensity. felix's moans become more intense and breathy. his body and mind failing to comprehend the intense feeling of warmth and wetness from your mouth as well as the coolness of your palm.

“... oh fuck.. yes… so fucking good…” 

this just encourages you even more. you remove your hand and place them both on his thighs for stability. you push your head further down his length until you can feel it down your throat.

you hold back your gag reflex, swallowing a few times to tighten your throat around him. felix lets out a string of incoherent moans and whispers. 

your jaw hurts. your lips hurts. your knees hurt and you can't breath but listening to felix whimper and crumble makes it all worth.

you feel him twitch in your mouth. his hips thrusting involuntarily. he's a mess and he's close.

his balls are tightening and his body is coated in a thin layer of sweat. the sensitivity of his cock head is overbearing. 

“don’t stop.. 'm close..” he struggles to say between his moaning. his strangled moans mix in with the sloppy, wet sounds of your mouth. 

he lowers his head, chin tucked into chest as he whimpers. a string of “fuck” leaves his lips as he grips onto you. it doesnt take him long. his cock twitches in your mouth, hot fluid coating your tongue and throat.

felix whimpers and whines, huffing and puffing. his body twitches and jerks. you help him ride out his orgasm before slowly pulling away. 

you look up at him, making eye contact as you swallow. felix shudders and strokes your swollen bottom lip, saliva collecting on the pad of his thumb.

“you did good, yn.” with felix's help, you rise to your feet. the numb feeling of pain on your knees becoming more noticeable now that your legs are outstretched.

“does this mean i’m forgiven?” you mumble. felix nods and strokes your hair gently.

“sorta.” you look at him slightly confused. “my birthday isn't over just yet, yn.”

“true… so, what do you want?” 

felix takes you by the hand and drags you to the bedroom. he gently throws you onto the bed, stripping himself of his clothing as you lean on your forearms and watch.

“i want so much more.” he purrs as he crawls onto the bed, towering over you and kissing the shell of your ear.

“i’m a greedy man, yn. you should know that a blowjob is not nearly enough to satisfy me.”

[alisonsfics]

back in chicago - part 2

pairing: ex-boyfriend!carmy berzatto x reader

summary: after years in germany, you return to chicago and immediately run into your ex-boyfriend. if you thought it’d be easy jumping back into your old life, you were wrong. new people had entered carmy’s life, including a new woman, but you were still everything to him.

word count: 3.2k

part 1 / part 3 / part 4

After giving everybody at the Bear a chance to change out of their dirty clothes, you all headed out to the parking lot since Richie had suggested a night at the club.

“Alright, how you wanna carpool?” Marcus asked Richie, since they were the only two with cars.

“My backseat is full of shit, so I only got room for one.” Richie said, scanning the group for volunteers. In true matchmaker fashion, you pushed Maria towards Richie.

“Alright, cool. Maria’s with me, you got everybody else?” Richie asked Marcus as he slid his arm around Maria’s shoulders. You and Maria made eye contact, and she rolled her eyes at the giddy look on your face.

“Sounds good. Tina, shotgun?” Marcus asked, opening the passenger door for her. Tina was the mother of the group, which meant she got the best treatment and none of the teasing.

Tina thanked Marcus and got in the car. That left you, Carmy, Nat, and Sydney in the back seat. Nat and Sydney went to the left side to get in.

Carmy headed towards the back right door and got in, so you wouldn’t have to sit in the middle. Nat was on the far left, then Sydney, and then Carmy.

Carmy scooted as far over as he could, allowing you to get in. You squished next to him, but couldn’t close the door. “Here you go,” he said, moving his arm to rest on the seat behind you. You readjusted and scooted closer to him.

“You all good back there?” Marcus asked.

“Marcus, your car is too damn small to squeeze four people back here.” Sydney said, causing you all to laugh. You successfully got the door to close, but you were almost in Carmy’s lap.

You made eye contact with Nat, who was smirking at the both of you. The entire side of your body was pressed up against his. “This remind you of anything?” You whispered quietly to Carmy.

His cheeks turned bright red as you referenced your first date. Carmy had taken you to a concert in his small beat-up car. The date ended with you both hooking up in the tiny backseat and then getting kicked out by security.

Your phone lit up in your lap with a text from Maria. It read: “Sticking me in a car with Richie? You’re never gonna give up are you?”

“I wasn’t the only one who saw that between them? Richie was checking her out in the parking lot.” Carmy said, softly, almost making you jump.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop,” he mumbled after seeing your reaction. You shook your head. “You’re like five inches away, so I don’t think it counts as snooping.” You joked, making him chuckle.

“Yeah, I saw you nudge her in the parking lot. Good thinking,” he complimented. Giggling in the backseat with Carmy and trying to set up your friends felt so familiar and made you feel back at home.

“I swear, something’s there. They just haven’t admitted it yet. I mean, they’re both single. And you should’ve seen Maria’s face when she saw Richie for the first time tonight. It was like she was a teenager again, and she was blushing like crazy.” You told him, not realizing how closely Richie and Maria’s situation mirrored yours and Carmy’s.

As you both chatted, you and Carmy naturally gravitated closer to each other. One of your legs was now resting on top of his, and his arm was now casually wrapped around your shoulders.

Neither of you noticed Nat take a picture of you both and send it to Maria and Richie with the caption: “I think something’s happening👀”

You all pulled into the club parking lot and poured out of the squished car. You noticed the buckle on your shoe had come undone when you got out of the small car.

“Oh, shit,” you mumbled, picking your leg up and trying to fasten the buckle. Balancing on one leg while wearing heels was more difficult than you thought it would be.

You wobbled and almost fell. Carmy quickly reached out and grabbed your arms, steadying you. Watching out for you was an instinct for Carmy. “Thank you,” you bashfully thanked him as you held on to his arm for balance and fixed your shoe.

Richie and Maria got out of Richie’s car with giant smiles on their faces. “Looks like they had a good time reconnecting,” Carmy leaned in towards you and whispered.

“I always told you that they were perfect for each other,” you told him, smiling as you watched your friends. Carmy faked a shocked face. “Don’t pretend like I ever doubted you. I always knew you were right. You were right about most things.” He told you, chuckling to himself.

“I was always right,” you teased, pretending to be offended. Carmy held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He apologized, with a smirk on his face.

Maria nudged Richie, gesturing towards you and Carmy. They both shared a knowing glance after seeing the giddy smiles on your faces.

You all went into the club and ordered some drinks. You walked over to where Maria and Sydney were chatting. “How was your car ride with Richie?” You asked, smirking at her. Maria huffed and jokingly rolled her eyes.

“Wait…are you and Richie like…?” Sydney asked, not knowing how to finish the question. Maria quickly shook her head no. “Don’t listen to her. They had a little fling back when me and Carmy were together, went their separate ways, and now they’re both single again.” You corrected Maria.

“You know what? You get you some. Go for it. You guys would be cute.” Sydney said, jumping on the bandwagon.

“Oh, and you. We have to get you to come out with us more often. We can never get Carmy to come out drinking with us, but apparently if you’re here, he’s down for anything.” Sydney said, smirking at you. You felt your cheeks heat up as you thought about what she was implying.

The three of you girls kept talking for a while. You told Sydney about Germany. Sydney filled you both in on some of the restaurant drama. You all got along really well.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom, but I’ll be right back.” You told them before heading towards the lobby. You knew that while you were gone, Maria would definitely let Sydney know about all the details about yours and Carmy’s relationship. You quickly went to the bathroom, thankful there was no line.

Meanwhile, Carmy had snuck out into lobby after getting a call from Claire. “Hey, baby. What’s up?” Carmy asked, cluelessly.

“I just got your text. You guys are at a club? I thought we were seeing a movie tonight. Your old girlfriend comes back to town, so now you have to go drinking?” Claire asked, infuriated.

“Oh, shit. I completely forgot about the movie. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He apologized quickly, but Claire wasn’t impressed. “That’s bullshit, Carm. Are you still fucking hung up on her?” She asked.

Carmy hesitated.

“No, it’s nothing like that.” He argued. He wasn’t necessarily lying. He truly was too in denial to believe that he still had feelings for you.

“Fuck you, Carm. Why can’t you just tell me the truth? You wouldn’t have hesitated if the answer was actually no.” Claire screamed at him.

When you came out the bathroom door, your ears were met with screaming. You recognized the voice as Carmy’s.

You froze when you saw him standing alone in the lobby on the phone. His face was bright red, and his hair was messy, like it always was when he got upset.

Your presence in the room caught his attention as his eyes quickly met yours. “Sorry,” you mouthed, trying to quickly sneak past him and back into the club. He quickly shook his head, trying to assure you that had nothing to be sorry for.

“Yeah, you know what? Fuck you too.” Carmy yelled into the phone before hanging up.

“Wait up,” Carmy called after you, grabbing your wrist to stop you.

“I’m sorry that you had to hear that. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He apologized, sweetly. You just nodded your head, all too aware of the fact that he was still holding onto your wrist.

“You okay? That sounded pretty intense.” You asked him. He shrugged like it was nothing. He didn’t want you to worry. “It’s fine. Just some life stuff. I could use a smoke though, if you wanna join.” He offered.

You nodded and accepted his offer. It felt like old times.

He let his hand rest on the small of your back as you both walked towards the front door. You stepped out into the cold Chicago air.

“It’s still crazy being back here.” You said, scanning the city skyline.

“It felt like a big part of Chicago was missing when you left.” Carmy told you as he lit his cigarette. You admired him as he stood under the streetlight.

“So, are you back for good?” Carmy asked, trying to not sound desperate like he was begging you to stay. You nodded. “This feels like where I’m supposed to be. Germany was good, but it was not meant to be forever.” You said, reflecting on your terrible last few weeks in Germany.

“Did something happen?” He asked you, concerned. You hesitated before answering. “I got fired and dumped by my ass of a boyfriend in the same day, so it could’ve been better.” You replied, keeping your eyes fixed on the ground.

Carmy didn’t know what to do. He wanted to comfort you, but he was still so unsure of how to act around you.

He settled for a middle ground and held his cigarette out to you. You giggled at the gesture, before taking it between your fingers.

After blowing a small cloud of smoke, you handed it back to him. He stuck the cigarette back between his lips and realized he could taste your strawberry chapstick on it.

He wanted to kick himself. It was like he was suddenly a teenager again and remembering kissing you under the bleachers.

“I’m sorry about the job and the guy. He sounds like an asshole.” he apologized, distracting himself from how much he wanted to kiss you, even though he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about that.

“You don’t know anything about him,” you said, giggling to yourself. Carmy paused, realizing you were right and shrugged. “Yeah, but I trust your judgement.” He said, looking over at you.

He dropped his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. “You wanna head back inside?” He asked, earning a quick nod from you as you had started getting chilly.

As you walked back inside, you both saw Richie standing by a table with beer pong set up. “Yo, cousin, come play,” Richie caught your attention and called Carmy over.

You returned back to where everyone else was standing around a table. After a while, your conversation was interrupted when you heard someone call your name. You turned around and saw Carmy gesturing for you to come over.

“What’s up?” You asked, curiously. He grabbed your hand and slid the ping pong ball into it. “I have one shot. If it goes in, Richie loses. You’ve always been better at beer pong than me.” He said, letting his other hand rest on your back. The few drinks he’d had were definitely making him a little more affectionate.

“I still think this is against the rules, cousin.” Richie complained, remembering all the times you’d beaten both of them at beer pong.

You tossed the ball, and it sunk right into the cup. Your hands shot up in the air in victory. Carmy quickly picked you up and spun you around in a circle. You rested your arms on his shoulders, so you wouldn’t fall down.

“Carmy. I want to talk to you.” You both heard from behind Carmy.

Carmy quickly put you back down on your feet. You looked over his shoulder and saw Claire, who you vaguely remembered from high school. You walked over to Richie’s side of the table, sensing a tension that you didn’t want to be apart of.

“Is that Claire from school?” You whispered to Richie. He looked down at you and nodded. You watched as Carmy pulled Claire off to the side to talk to her.

“Shit, Richie. Are they together?” You asked, feeling a pit in your stomach.

Richie froze after hearing the words leave your mouth. “Oh, fuck. Yeah, I thought you knew.” Richie said, empathizing with how you were feeling. He rubbed his hand on your back, trying to comfort you.

You ran your fingers through your hair, feeling sick to your stomach. Then, all of a sudden, Claire was yelling again.

“What? I can’t hang out with you and your friends? Do you not want to be seen with me? Or is it because she’s here?” Claire asked, pointing at you.

“Richie, I can’t do this.” You said, pulling away from him and walking past the whole group, who was now staring at you. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep the tears from forming.

You snuck up to the second floor loft level of the club that overlooked the dance floor below. It was quieter upstairs, and you needed quiet.

You sat down on one of the couches as a few rogue tears rolled down your cheeks. You felt so stupid for thinking you could pick up where you left off with Carmy.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone walk up to you. You looked up and saw one of Carmy’s coworkers.

“Can I sit?” He politely asked you. You quickly nodded. “Yeah, of course. You’re Marcus, right?” You asked. He nodded and shook your hand.

“I don’t want to intrude, and I know all this history with Carmy is from before I even knew him, but I wanted to see if you wanted to talk about anything.” He offered, giving you a soft smile.

“Thank you. That’s a really sweet offer, but I don’t even think I’d know where to start.” You said, laughing at how pathetic you must have seemed.

Marcus stayed by your side. He didn’t say a word, but he waited until you wanted to talk.

“I think I just feel lost. I got the job offer in Germany, and I almost didn’t take it because I didn’t want to leave Carmy. But he told me I couldn’t turn it down, so I lived in Germany for five years. I had a great job. I met a guy. Then, I lost it all in a day, and so I thought maybe I was never supposed to leave Chicago.” You started explaining.

“I came back to Chicago, and it felt right. Like this was where I was supposed to be all along. Then, completely by Maria’s planning, I ran into Carmy again. It felt natural. It didn’t feel like he hadn’t seen each other in five years. Then, I find out he’s with Claire, and now she’s pissed at me when I had no idea in the first place. I just feel so stuck, like everywhere I go, I’m fucking cursed or something.” You said, wiping away a few tears.

“Well, I promise, you’re not cursed. It’ll all be alright. I think you coming back just threw Carmy for a spin. He wasn’t expecting it at all. But you shouldn’t feel guilty because none of that is your fault. That’s between Claire and Carmy to figure out.” Marcus comforted you.

“Thank you. That makes me feel a lot better. All I have to do now is get over my ex-boyfriend for the second time. But I’ve done it before, so I can do it again, right?” You joked, trying to make the best of the situation.

“There you go,” Marcus said, chuckling, “I’ll leave you alone now. You know where to find me.”

You sat up there for a few minutes in silence. You stood up and looked over the railing at your friends below you.

You didn’t see Carmy anywhere and assumed he was somewhere with Claire.

That was until you saw him walk up beside you. He gave you a soft smile, not knowing what to say yet.

“I’m sorry about all of that. You didn’t deserve to get dragged into that.” He told you, sincerely. You smiled back at him. “It’s alright. I understand.” You told him.

There was silence between the two of you for a few minutes. Neither of you knew what to say to fill the silence. You both were also worried that you’d somehow make it worse by saying the wrong thing.

Even if it was just in a friendly capacity, you were glad to have Carmy back in your life.

Down below you both, you saw Richie run towards the dance floor and start dancing as Love Story by Taylor Swift played.

A small giggle escaped from your lips watching the pure joy on his face. “I have fucking missed Chicago.” You said. It felt like a scene out of a movie, reunited with your best friends in your favorite city.

“Chicago has missed you,” you heard Carmy mumble beside you.

In a split second, he was grabbing your waist and kissing you. You instinctually kissed him back, while your arms snaked around his neck. You twirled his hair around your fingers as he kissed you.

You felt like you were on another planet. You couldn’t hear the club music anymore and could only hear your heart racing in your ears.

Carmy tightened his grip around your waist, so you both were pressed up against each other. There wasn’t an inch of space between you, and you didn’t want there to be.

One of Carmy’s hands crept lower down your back, cupping your ass. You gasped against the kiss, shocked by his hand placement. You could feel him smirk. Nothing made Carmy cockier than watching the effect he had on you.

Moving his arms back to your waist, Carmy started to nudge you backwards towards the wall. Your back leaned against the cold concrete wall.

It brought you back to reality, and you realized what you were doing.

You quickly put your hands on Carmy’s chest and pushed him away. “We can’t…Claire,” you reminded him.

“Oh, shit,” Carmy mumbled, running his hand through his hair. You tried to catch your breath. You could feel your heart rate rising as the panic set in.

“I’m so sorry…I shouldn’t have,” you rambled, trying to quickly walk past Carmy. He quickly grabbed your wrist to stop you. “It’s not your fault. I kissed you, and I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He apologized.

“We can’t tell anybody.” You told him, frantically. He quickly nodded, experiencing a similar panic to your own.

You raced back downstairs. Once you got out the front doors, you started sprinting towards your apartment. You needed to get away from there as fast as possible.

You finally arrived at your apartment. You checked your phone and saw a text from Maria that she’d be spending the night at Richie’s. You wanted to be happy for your friend, but your own love life was spiraling

You laid down on the couch and burst into tears. It felt like you laid there for hours, until you heard a knock at your door.

You opened it to find Carmy standing in front of your door.

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[aureatelys]

snowflakes in my stomach

pairing: aaron hotchner/non-bau!reader rating: teen+ w.c.: 3k summary:

You work as an elf during photos with Santa at the mall and you spot the extremely attractive man with his son in line.

cw: christmas! fluff! christmas fluff! meet cute, jack hotchner being cute and a little shit, some language, age gap as reader is mid-20s, mentions of haley, working retail, no y/n

also posted on ao3 or below <3

“Where the fuck is Santa?”

You try not to roll your eyes, and you turn from where you were staring at the giant candy cane statue that’s nearly falling apart near Santa’s chair to the man standing several feet away, held back by a red velvet rope barrier. He’s starting to turn red in the face, fists clenching, while his daughter that looks almost way too old to still be taking pictures with Santa is tapping away on her phone.

It's the day before Christmas Eve, thus the last day of Santa and his elves taking pictures with screaming children at the mall. You were already working part time at the mall while you’re in classes and your manager somehow convinced you to help out with the photos for a couple of weeks. Although it was nice to get away from working in retail during the holiday season, you’d much rather be folding clothes for a table you just fixed up 5 minutes ago than deal with these annoying rich parents and their children.

It's nearing 8pm, which means only about 30 minutes left until you’re finally free and can go the fuck home and get out of these ridiculously itchy tights.

“Sir, please don’t curse in front of the children.”

The man’s daughter scoffs at that, barely throws a glare at you, before focusing back on her phone.

You try not to pointedly glance at the other people behind them in line. Since it’s almost closing time, there’s only a couple of people left who are starting to get just as antsy. There’s a woman with a boy who looks about 2-years old and a group of teenagers. What really catches your eye, however, is the older and extremely handsome man at the back of the line with possibly the cutest little 6-year-old boy.

He's very overdressed for the mall; a white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up, an expensive-looking tie, and a suit jacket thrown over an arm, so you assume he just got off work and rushed here after scheduling last minute. He’s tall, nearly towering over everybody else, intimidating, and has dark and stern eyes as he glances at you and the man at the front of the line, eyebrows pinched in concern.

“That doesn’t answer my question! We’ve been waiting here for 15 minutes!”

You grimace. He does have a point.

Your Santa went on break 15 minutes ago, claiming he was taking a 10-minute break, and you tried not to notice the photographer had skipped to follow him. You definitely tried not to notice the obvious ass-grabbing that Santa did on the photographer either.

You try not to sigh too loudly and put on that well-practiced customer service voice and smile. “I’m sure Santa is just taking a cookies and milk break! He’ll be back soon.”

If possible, the man’s face gets even redder. You could almost see the steam blowing out of his ears if you tried hard enough.

“Well, can I get a refund or something? I had to pay a direct deposit on the website and I’m not waiting another 10 minutes,” he gripes, nearly shouting directly in your face.

Your ridiculous elf hat is falling down into your eyes, but that fake customer service smile doesn’t budge. “You’ll have to contact the North Pole for that, sir.”

The man stares at you in disbelief. You smile at him, years of practice of working in retail coming in hand. Customers like him don’t bother you anymore, especially since you are definitely not getting paid enough to wear pointed shoes that are too small for you and jingle every time you move.

You hear a cough from further down the line and when you peer around the man who is absolutely fuming now, you see that older handsome guy cough into his fist, something like a smile quirking at the corners of his pretty mouth. He looks at you then, makes eye contact with you over the head of all the people in line, and quickly looks away due to his son tugging at his sleeve to make him lean down and whisper something in his ear.

You feel giddy all of a sudden. You made a cute guy laugh, and not only that, you can tell just by looking at him that he doesn’t hand those out very often.

Get it together, you’re at work, you think to yourself.

You clear your throat. “I’m sure Santa will be coming back any minute now.”

And because you have no choice until you were done with the very last person in line, you wait.

The Christmas music blaring throughout the mall has faded into white noise at this point. You’re staring at the ridiculously large Santa chair and wishing you were sitting in it, giving your knees and back a break after standing for several hours, and wondering what you’re going to have for dinner tonight when you feel a tug on your dress.

You spin around, about to have some not-so-nice words for that angry man if he’s putting his hands on you, when you look down and see that cute blonde boy peering up at you with pretty brown eyes. He’s dressed in a red and black checkered flannel with his hair sleekly done in a way that you can tell he’s just itching to mess up.

You blink down at him before bending your knees so you’re at his height. You ignore the very audible crack. “What can I do for you, little man?”

“Why aren’t you at the North Pole?” he asks, so innocently that it warms your heart and definitely not stirring up the baby fever you’ve been trying to ignore for the past year.

You genuinely smile at him because, well, how could you not? “Well, Santa wanted me to work here this year, plus I get to see some of you kiddos!”

“My uncle Derek said all the short adults have to work at the North Pole, so why aren’t you there?” he blinks at you.

Before you could react, the little boy is being lifted up and tucked into the arms of his dad. There’s a light dusting of pink on his stern face, softening it, and a comical panicked look in his eyes.

“Jack!” He reprimands, before turning to you. “I’m sorry, he knows better than to repeat things his uncles have said to him.”

His voice is low and deep, almost mesmerizingly so, and your knees almost buckle at the thought of him whispering in your ear. You have to crane your neck up quite a bit to look at him from where you’re still squatting. You put your hands on your knees to stand back up straight, only grunting a little bit from the effort.

“It’s no problem,” you say. “It’s nothing I’ve heard before.”

Even standing to your fullest height, this man towers over you. He’s much more handsome up close, with some loose strands from his gelled hair falling into his forehead, creases at the corner of his eyes, and the sharp slope of his nose. You can barely detect the hints of his cologne, something clean and like sandalwood.

“It’s a good question,” Jack says, surprisingly very sassy than he looks.

His father seems to huff a laugh, like it escaped him before he could control it. It’s a very nice sound, something you would be fine with hearing over and over again.

You nod. “I’m sure it’s not Jack’s fault since he’s around very tall people all the time, right?”

Jack nods emphatically while his father looks exasperated but extremely affectionate at the same time. He bends to put Jack down, now sure that he isn’t going to cause any more trouble. The glint in the boy’s eyes tells you otherwise.

You break your gaze from the way you can see the older man’s biceps flex underneath his sleeves, his forearms because holy shit, and notice that everyone else in line besides Jack and his father were gone. Even the infuriating angry guy.

The last-minute Christmas shopping crowd has started to dwindle down as well, with some stores even starting to close earlier than usual so the employees can assumedly escape the traffic and spend the rest of the night at home.

And yet, you’re still here wearing striped leggings that you are sure is what’s causing your rash on your thigh, a green dress that is absolutely doing nothing for your figure, and a stupid fucking elf hat. Standing next to probably the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life.

“I’m sorry about the wait,” you say, because honestly this is getting ridiculous. How long can they be fucking for?

The extremely hot man looks up from where he’s tapping away a text. You try not to ogle at how his hands dwarf his cellphone and instead try to make polite eye contact. He has warm golden-brown eyes that make you feel only a little stupid.

“It’s fine. As long as we can get his picture still taken.” He nods towards Jack, who is definitely starting to look a bit restless by the way he’s shifting his weight back and forth and wringing his hands.

“I’ll make sure we stay and get you guys, I promise,” you say, despite the fact that you have no authority to promise or make everyone else stay late. You’re feeling a little flustered, okay, you can’t help it.

You’re thinking that this guy is going to go back to his phone or completely ignore you to talk to his son, do something that shows he’s not interested in talking to a 25-year-old wearing an elf costume, so you’re awfully surprised when he gives you a devastating handsome smile and showing off an equally devastatingly cute dimple and says “Jack’s been waiting for this all month.”

“Oh yeah?” You smile down at Jack who looks suddenly shy. “A family tradition, I assume?”

The little boy nods, making some pieces of his hair come loose and fall against his forehead. “Daddy always makes sure we don’t miss it ever since Mommy died.”

Oh.

“Oh,” you say. You flounder a bit because, although you understand that kids at this age are unapologetically blunt and you’re used to customers oversharing while working in retail, you were not expecting to learn about this family’s trauma today. “Well, your daddy must love you a lot then, huh?”

You look up to see his father looking absolutely horrified, embarrassment clear on his face. There’s a faint shade of pink again on his face that disappears underneath his shirt collar and you almost feel bad for him, however you can’t deny that he’s cute when he looks like he wants to crawl into a hole and never come out.

“Yep,” Jack responds cheerfully, and then is instantly distracted by that damn horn blaring through the mall, signifying the arrival of that godforsaken eyesore they call an indoor train. It takes up nearly the whole walkway of the mall, causing him and his father to scoot further in line and closer to you. The back of his hand brushes against yours.  

“I am,” the man says again, slowly, as if he was in pain, “so sorry.” From the expression he was wearing, you would probably think he was.

You wave his apology off with a jingle. “Really, it’s fine. I know how kids are. You’re just lucky he’s so cute.”

The man says nothing; however, you can see the mortification melt from his face as both of you watch Jack’s eyes slowly following the train as it wraps around the area roped off for pictures. He’s nearly jumping from how much he secretly wants to ride the train, a smile wide across his face and sparkling eyes that match his father’s. Oh, you need to get a grip.

“So, any plans for tomorrow?” you ask and nearly cringe at your awkward attempt to make conversation. It’s getting late, Santa is who knows where, and you’re basically holding this attractive man and his son hostage at the mall.

His gaze breaks from where he was watching Jack, the fatherly warmth and smile on his face still lingering. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at you. You try not to squirm under his scrutinizing eyes. “We’re just spending time with some family and friends, something small.”

You feel a bit envious. Of course, this man has a family and friends to spend time with for the holidays, he probably has a life as opposed to you. You definitely don’t have plans, unless you count staying in your pajamas for two days straight in front of the TV to watch bad Hallmark movies a plan. You almost wish the mall was open so you could work and keep yourself busy and not think about the aching loneliness you feel every year.

“The more people you see at Christmas, the more presents, right Jack?”

“Right!” Jack says, attention captured as the train disappeared out of view. “And I’m seeing Santa right before he comes to the house so he can’t forget about me!”

You laugh, because he’s just so stinking cute. “And what are you wanting this year?”

Jack immediately starts rambling about how he’s hoping to get a Spiderman action figure with the matching racecar, a scooter, a nerf gun, and other toys a typical 6-year-old would want. You nod along and pretend to take notes on the prop clipboard you were given.

You ignore the older man’s curious stare you can feel boring into the side of your head. You thought it wasn’t noticeable that you clearly avoided saying what you were going to be doing for the holidays, though when you finally meet his eyes, you have a feeling that nothing gets by this man.

You jump at a sudden clatter to your left, and when you tear yourself from the man’s pretty eyes, you see your Santa and the photographer stumbling through the props and knocking over the fake presents stacked on top of each other. Santa is thankfully wearing all of his costume; however, his beard is crooked, and the photographer’s clothes are inside out.

“That was a long milk and cookies break,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes.

Jack squeals when he spots them, jumping up and down and tugging on his father’s hand. The man gives him that affectionate smile again and you just want to melt.

Santa, you call him because you don’t remember his name but also you definitely shouldn’t call him by his real name anyway, fakes a deep and hearty laugh. He sits down at the comically large armchair and discreetly fixes his beard. “I just had a big ol’ craving. I’m sorry, kiddo.”

Jack ducks underneath the barricade and starts running at Santa, leaving his father flustered and jogging after him.

“Sorry about that,” the photographer whispers to you and doesn’t even wait for your response before she’s behind the camera stand and adjusting the settings.

It doesn’t even matter, because you’re watching Jack hop onto Santa’s lap, already continuing his rambling about what he is wanting for Christmas. He’s clearly ignoring his father’s gentle suggestions on how to pose and to fix his shirt, altogether sounding very endearing and fond.

You watch as his father ultimately gives up, surprisingly looks at you with an exasperated smile, and takes out his phone to take his own pictures of Jack. The boy eventually finishes what he has to say, almost looking out of breath, and gives the camera the toothiest and silliest smile you have ever seen.

“Great job, buddy!” you exclaim and then feel your heart being squeezed when Jack runs up to you and gives you a hug around your shins.

“I hope you have a good vacation after Christmas,” Jack says seriously. He looks up at you, death grip on your legs unwavering. “You’ve worked hard this year.”

If Jack wasn’t clearly talking about you working as an elf at Santa’s workshop, you probably would’ve teared up.

Instead, you give him a smile and a pat on the top of his head. “Thanks, Jack. Merry Christmas.”

His father is behind him a second later, folder in hand with Jack’s prints. He’s looking at the both of you now with that soft expression you’re starting to become familiar with. The love he has for his son is clear as day. “Hey buddy, we gotta get home.” 

“Can we get pizza on the way?” Jack gasps excitedly, letting go of your legs to reach a hand out for his father’s.

He hums and pretends to think about it. “We’ll see. I just have to talk to our new friend here.”

And then he’s stepping closer into your space and meeting your eyes. You get a whiff of his cologne again and you feel like you’re about to combust on the spot.

“I’m Aaron, and this, obviously, is Jack. I wanted to see if wanted to go out for dinner or a coffee sometime? After Christmas?”

You stare at him, a million emotions and thoughts racing through your head all at once. This man, who is at least 15 years older than you and is way out of your league, is interested in you, a college student who has no friends and is currently wearing a frumpy green dress and red and green striped leggings?

Aaron doesn’t break eye contact with you, most likely to indicate to you that he’s being sincere, however you can tell he’s blushing again. Nervous.

You stammer out your name, though you can barely hear yourself over the rush of blood in your ears. “I would love that.”

You watch as Aaron nearly sighs in relief and the action, the thought that he feels relieved because you’re showing equal interest, is exhilarating. He hands his phone to you and you punch in your number. You’re almost tempted to add your contact info as something silly or funny, but instead just adds a smiley face at the end.

Aaron chuckles when he spots it and pockets his phone. The softness and want in his eyes are almost overwhelming, and the way more of his hair flops against his forehead makes you want to put your hands all over him “I’ll call you?”

“Sure,” you breathe. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Both of you pointedly ignore Jack’s giggle as he watches.

[theodoresgirl]

I see you like dabi... Can you write something with dad dabi??

Dad!Dabi Headcanons

a/n: dabi as a dad, Personally a favorite. Never actually attempt to write it so here we go. lmk if you want more<33

warning: Some 'canon' parts and fan-canon. my personal opinion, delulu.

— —

★ — Dabi’s the kind of guy to first react negatively towards you saying you’re pregnant. He’s never imagined being a dad, His own pushed him down when he gained a “better” son. It would take some reassurance, Like telling him you believed he would be a great dad, and that he was nothing like his father. He would slowly be open to the idea of being part of the kids life.

★ — Dabi’s by your side whenever he can, between the LOV and planing his pay back to his own dad.

★ — Dabi’s holding your hair when you get sick, He’s bringing you food late at night on his recruitment patrols.

★ — He’ll even bust out his old hair braiding skills (he might be a little rusty at first) to keep it out of your face during hot flashes. he learned braiding with fuyumi’s hair when they were younger.

★ — Dabi keeps you and the baby a complete secret, To make sure he knew that if something happened to him. You and the baby wouldn’t be targeted

★ — Dabi would be terrified to touch your stomach, he isn’t normally a feel bad kind of guy but he didn't wanna accidentally hurt you or the baby. It takes some time before he can rest his hand on your belly or lay his head on it.

★ — He tries to attend at least a few doctor appointments, but he misses the birth because of his identity. He'd get really upset ith

★ — Some time after you have the baby, you and him would be sitting on the couch, The baby was sleeping and he lets slip he wants another one. “to give it a friend” lame excuse but hey, It works. He wouldn’t ask for another one but if you asked he wouldn’t say no.

★ — He first sees his daughter when you come home. He’s right there, He heard you talking outside the door and getting your keys.

★ — He was sitting in a chair at the island counter. Safe to say he’s been there for 3 hours waiting.

★ — For awhile he just sits on the couch while you hold her. He’d be scared, again. He didn’t wanna harm her.

★ — She looked exactly like him at her age. Red hair, teal eyes, a big smile.

★ — Sometimes you’d wake to go the bathroom and see a empty place next to to, and noise in the nursery. Dabi would be sitting in a rocking chair mumbling about who knows what while his little girl just slept on his chest. He’d never admit it though, if you brought it up he’d say you were really tired and hallucinated it. (you didn’t)

★ — His phone lock screen was of course his motorcycle, but his home-screen was a picture of you passed out with baby girl.

★ — Second pregnancy around he would probably be outed as toya, Depending on the outcome (we are gonna go the happy delulu root) he'd have contact with his sister, maybe even natsuo. You drag him out to lunch with his sister.

★ — He'd always have his arms around you, around your waist, on your hips and stomach.

★ — He'd definitely rubs the fact his family loves him to his dad, no doubt. He'd brag about how his daughter is always following him around, and his future partner is perfect and loves him for him.

★ — Dabi also definitely got your daughter to say dada first, Even though it took 2 years she finally said her first word. it would be when you went out with his siblings. He sends you a video of her sitting on the couch in one of those Ariel princess dresses. She clear as day she says 'dada'. He teases you about it a lot.

★ — At first you'll have to force him, but after awhile the only movies that are on the tv at all times was Disney & barbie. (His favorites are Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus & Robin hood)

★ — Dabi would lay down on the floor while his daughter played with his hair and feels his scars.

★ — Dabi also by now stopped using his quirk, which over time slowly his scars began to heal.

★ — He was present for your 2nd child, your sons birth. To say he teared up is a understatement. He stood by your side the whole time, he wasn't willing to miss it this time.

★ — Your son looked again, was a mini dabi, but white hair.

★ — When your daughters quirk forms its just like dabis, She ran into you and his room one morning giggling excitedly about having a cool quirk like her daddy. His face was pure fear, could her skin handle the heat? or was it like his?

★ — Dabi would watch when she'd use her quirk, to make sure she didn't get hurt, and she never did. That made dabi relieved.

[normansnt]

For old times sake (pt.2)

(Huskerdust x platonic! Male!overlord reader)

I'm really happy with how this turned out. Non of y'all asked for it the idea just hit me so I had to write it down😎

ALSO

I'm VERY likely going to write a pt.3 thats an Alastor x male reader so lemme know if ya'll would want that🫡💗

Warnings: V@lentino

Art by the very talented: @dragon-spaghetti

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

You were having the best time. Talking to Husk and Angel was very fun and you saw the amazing chemistry they had. You guys were talking laughing and drinking in your office when suddenly Angels phone started to get bombarded with messages.

You felt the sudden shift in atmosphere. Angel hurriedly reached for his phone and when he saw the messages he jumped up.

"It was nice to meet you (Y/N) I had a lot of fun and thank you for the drinks but I have to go now, Husk baby I'll see you at the Hotel don't wait up for me if I get home late."

He said, with one breath and quicker then you have seen anybody talk and left with the same speed.

"Shit..." said Husk as he stood up with a sigh to pour himself another drink.

"What was that?" You asked baffled.

"It's...its his job, his boss he is... a fucking cunt"

Said Husk with audible anger in his voice.

You were about to ask more questions but then it hit you. You knew angel was a porn actor. And you also knew about the Vees. It was easy to put the picture together from this point on. And judging by Angles terrified reaction, Husks anger and cussing you could quite easily tell how his boss treated the spider.

"Hey, Husk" he looked at you with tired eyes.

"I have an idea." You said at last with a smirk on your face.

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

"HAHH, suck it idiots, guess who was invited to a business meeting by THE (Y/N) Demon of gambling." Yelled Valentino as he entered the Vees break room.

"What. The. FUCK, give me that" said Vox pissed as he tore the invitation from Valentinos hand.

"THAT BITCH, why did he invite you and not all of us."

"Never mind that who the fuck sends messages via letters?" Asked Velvette disgusted.

"This is the way the big shots do it, you uncultured swine" said Valentine still very full of himself due to the invite.

"That doesn't make ANY sense" Vox has read the invitation at least 3x by now not understanding why you invited only Valentino.

The Vees have been trying to get in contact with you for years now but to no avail. You had no interest in any alliances since you thought them to be stupid and egoistic, if overlord meetings were something to go by.

"Deal with it honey, I'm just better than you guys" ended Valentino the conversation as he snatched the letter from Vox and blew the pink smoke from his cigarette into his face.

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

Valentino showed up to your casino with Angel by his side dressed in...well, almost nothing. Of course he wasn't gonna show up without a pretty thing by his side and who better than his favorite toy.

"If you embarrass me in front of the demon of gambling I'll-" he started saying through clenched teeth but got interrupted. By you.

"Mr. Valentino, it is such a pleasure to meet you." You started as you put your hand out to shake.

He shook your hand slowly. He was surprised to say the least. One of the most powerful overlords was this young, not to mention very hot. When he got over his surprise however his personality was back and on FULL display for you. He turned on his charm like never before and started shamelessly flirting with you.

You just kept the calm smile on your face.

"So, Mr. Valentino I'm sure you are wondering why I invited you and we will be having a business meeting do not threat however I'm afraid I have something else to take care of first, please go ahed and try out the games my casino has to offer and drink something, all the drinks are on the house for you."

Now, in a situation like this normally Valentino would be offended. How dare someone invite him and then say they have something else to do.

But you were different. You were a very powerful person in all aspects, your goddamn charm, it was just irresistible not to mention the free drinks.

"Well all right but do not keep me waiting for long now, amor." He said with the ever present flirtatious tone in his voice.

You didn't react to this, just a simple nod of your head and with that you left.

Valentino hasn't gambled much in his life, or death, he just stood by when Vox did it, so he sat down by a random table.

He won. To his (and Angels) biggest surprise, he won.

"Oh, yeah, this is going to be a good night. ANGEL, bring me another drink."

This was just the beginning of the night. He continued to go around table by table, and he won, by every single one of them. And the more he won the more he drank.

About two hours after he arrived one of your employees came up to your office.

"It's time sir I think he is drunk enough." Said your guard. So, you put down the book you were reading and stretched. You didn't have anything to do, that was just a lie. It was just part of the plan.

When you arrived downstairs you saw that your employee had been right, Valentino was standing on the table singing and kicking the coins he had won.

You cleared your throat.

"Mr. Valentino, I'm glad you're enjoying my casino" with that one sentence you got everyone's attention in the room.

You could have that effect. You weren't a cruel overlord and didn't choose to rule over people by the means of fear. But you could make it so that even just your voice demanded respect.

"I see you have won quite a lot, would you care to play a round against, me?" You said ever so calmly.

And of course drunk and full of himself due to not loosing once all night, Valentino was more then happy to play with you.

"Now then, since we are playing in the big leagues now we cant just play for money thats below us don't you think."

"I'd like to be below you, handsome" he answered.

You just hummed, unamused.

"I say, how about we play for souls."

That caught Valentino off guard, he didn't think of that, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of you so he agreed.

"And...whose soul would you be offering? I heard the demon of gambling doesn't own anyones soul" said Valentino with just a bit of temptation in his voice.

You hummed.

"You heard correctly, I'm in no need of souls, I will be offering...my own" you said still as calm as ever.

To that Valentine spit out his drink. The amount of power that would be in his hand if he owned your soul is...too much for his drunken mind to think about. And of course due to the amount of alcohol in his system he didn't think about how stupid this proposition would be on your part if you weren't 100% sure you would win. He didn't even think about the fact that you are the demon of gambling, the owner of a casino, it would have been obvious to anyone that he had no chance at winning.

"Well then, I'll offer the soul of this beautiful thing here" he said while squeezing angels cheek.

You looked at Angel and said

"Very well then, let the game begin.".

After a few rounds, you were loosing. Big fucking time and Angel was starting to get very worried. But not only him, Husk, who was the whole time as well, making sure the plan goes well, was starting to doubt you two. He knew first hand just how good you were especially in poker, but it was still a game that depended on luck at least 50% of it.

When Valentino needed a break to go puke, Husk walked over to you.

"Kid, just what the hell are you doing you are aware that you're loosing." He said pretty pissed off.

"Oh, I'm just messing with him-"

"Well stop, what if you mess too close to the sun you might be good but you cannot control your luck."

"Luck is a non factor if you use logic. You seriously think a porn seller, money hungry, moth man big shot wanna be will beat me, in Poker? Don't insult me." And with that Valentino returned and the game continued.

He kept winning rounds and Angel and Husk were growing more anxious by the second.

Finally the last rounds were coming around and thats when you decide you messed with him enough. And just like that you started putting down winning hands one after the other.

Valentino was panicking. He is about to loose his best paying costumer whatever you come out with this round everything depends on it-

Royal Flush.

You fucking won the game.

Now that the loss has sobered his mind he could finally look at all of this in a logical way.

Of fucking corse you won. You are the mother fucking demon of gambling just how the hell did he think he could win.

But the wins before. Hold on. That was illogical too, NO ONE goes to a casino and wins every fucking time was he really that drunk not to notice.

You broke him out of his thoughts when you snapped your fingers. And Angels contract that bound him to Valentino appeared in your hands.

However now, where Valentinos name used to be, stood yours.

"Well, Mr. Valentino that was a very productive business meeting I hope to never see you in the future"

"...What?" asked the moth angrier by the minute.

"You still haven't figured it out? I do not care for you or the other Vees business. Did it not seem suspicious that I only invited you? What am I saying of course it didn't, because a narcissist like you would never ask why someone wants their company. See, thats why tricking you was so easy. Getting you drunk wasn't even necessary I only did it so I can be sure that you will play for angels soul."

"...but, but...NO, Angel dust is still mine, he-" Valentino went to reach for Angel but Husk stopped him.

"No he fucking aint." Hissed the cat.

In panic Valentino tried to make the leash appear but to no avail. A deal was a deal. He doesn't own Angel's soul anymore.

"Just why the FUCK was it so important to you to get a wretched whore's soul?" Asked the moth now yelling.

"It was a favor for an old friend."

"You mother fucking- do you know who the fuck I am, I will destroy you me and the Vees-"

"No" you stated simply.

This was the last drop for Valentino.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN NO-"

"I would like to ask you to leave now Mr.Valentino and, please tell your partner not to send me any more invitations, I do not care"

Valentino made one last attempt to attack you but your guards stopped him.

"I was winning all night you dickwad I sucked your casino dry" tried to irritate you Valentino.

"Oh? Thats right here, isn't this one of your coins?" You threw it at him.

"Of course, every coin has two sides."

Valentino turned the coin around to discover a big fat 0 at the other side.

"What-"

"You really thought you won at every single table? Wow, you are even stupider than I thought."

It was part of the plan, you told everyone who worked at the casino wherever Valentino sits down, he wins, at least coins of zero. You needed to boost his confidence so he'd think he can beat you.

"You will not take him away from me I'll find him-"

"You will do no such a thing he belongs to me now so he is under my protection." You were getting a but pissed now, he just wouldn't give up would he?

He was about yo say more when you looked at him. Dead in the eyes. Thats half the reason why you are as powerful as you are. The look. If you looked someone deep in the eyes they will see their worst nightmares playing right in front of them.

Valentino started screaming, crying and shaking uncontrollably. And with that your guards dragged him out.

You turned to Angel and Husk, who were standing there holding hands.

You looked at Angel, lifted the contract, and tore it in half right in front of him.

Angel was staring at you. He stared as tears started to roll down his cheek and he fell to the ground in sobs.

'I'm free' he thought to himself over and over again. Husk chuckled as he knelt down to his boyfriend and hugged him.

You two locked eyes, and you understood just how thankful he was, words weren't needed.

You wanted the couple to have some privacy so you headed back to your office.

Unbeknownst to you another demon was present that night at the casino, and he saw the whole ordeal.

"How well you grew up to be, young (Y/N)" chuckled Alstor to himself.

"(Y/N)" you heard Ang- Anthony yell from behind you.

You turned around with raised eyebrows and looked at him.

"THANK YOU" he yelled still sobbing.

You smiled at him.

"Happy to help, for old times sake."

[scar-lie]

DNA Pt. 2 {Scarlett}

Summary : Scarlett finally found out you're her daughter

Pairing : Mom! Scarlett Johansson x Daughter!Reader

Warning : curse word, bad memory, anxiety, cutting, blood

Word count : 2,029

DNA Pt. 1

Cherrylemontober

NO one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

"Oh, that feels good,” Scarlett sighs in relief, relaxing every muscle when one of the employees decides to give her a massage after a long hour of working doing stunts, running, and just a never-ending shoot.

“Tired huh? "Scarlett chuckled when Alice—one of the workers on the project—commented, moving her hands from shoulder up to massage her head.

“Yeah, oh god, that's the spot... That's been aching for days now,” Scarlett whispered, closing her eyes, and Alice chuckled at her behavior and kept massaging her shoulders and head.

“Ok, what exactly are we doing? "RDJ asked, still confused while driving after he picked up Lizzie, and Hugh is on the way to look for you

“It's Y/N, and it's a long story; she just ran away in bad condition.” Lizzie bites her lower lips, worried about you, and RDJ is confused and worried too.

“Why? "He stops at the red light and faces Lizzie, who's been busy contacting you.

“It's... She found out who her biological mother is, and... and I don't know what's going on in her head; she just bolted out, and I’m worried.” Lizzie's hand keeps shaking, and her breathing is getting labored, so RDJ quickly took her phone and held her hand.

"Breath, Lizzie, breath; Y/N’s fine; she wouldn't so such thing.” Robert squeezed her hand, and the light turned green, and he proceeded to drive.

You took a deep breath, still gripping the steering wheel tight. You've been sitting in your car for about 20 minutes now, after your 4-hour drive from the city to the outskirts of another city.

You look at your left side, seeing a simple but big house, enough for 20 to 40 people to fit in, then you look back forward to see a path going forward for another house of your neighbor.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, going out of the car and proceeding to walk to the door of your old house, then stopping at the door to knock three times.

“Mom? "You called out, but after a few minutes, no one is answering, so you assume that your mom went out to get some groceries or something.

So you lower down to get the spare key at the bottom of the third flowerpot, then open the door and come inside to see the place as clean as you expected.

The house was well maintained, no dust, no dirt, no trash, or anything unpleasant. The pictures scattered around the house, some hanging on the wall, some on top of the drawers.

It's all pictures of you, your mom and dad, and your lovely sister, whom you adore and love so much. This house brings so much memory that you can't help but shed a tear just by looking around and touching things.

From the picture of the four of you standing in the side drawer, past the entrance to the trophies, couches, and decorations laying around the house, that brings you to the kitchen when you four are usually having fun making dinner for Sunday night that is full of laughter before everyone goes to do what has to be done the next day.

It eventually leads you to the backyard, where you can see the city up there. Your father built a wooden fence around when your sister was 5 years old, and then he also built a big swing where your mom put comforters and pillows there after 3 months when you were adopted.

You love looking over the city from the backyard, and you always sneak out at night just so you can sit at the ground in awe and watch the city light shine with the stars.

“Here you are, Miss Troublemaker,” your father sat besides you after another night of you sneaking out of your room when they told you to sleep and bit you goodnight.

“You know, you should really sleep now; it's getting late; you still have school tomorrow,” your mom, sat on the other side of you, then pulled you to lean on her and kiss your forehead.

“Sorry again,” they chuckle, knowing you will be doing this again eventually.

“We know, sweetie,” you whisper, then stand up.

“I guess you both plan on staying here for a little while longer. Just go inside before you two get cold, ok? "After your father answers her, ‘Yes, dear, no need to worry. Mom gives us a warning look, then goes back inside.

That night you and your dad stay late at night, you listening to the stories of your dad on how he courts your mom. Your mom eventually goes out again to fetch you both back inside before you two catch a cold, and that being said, you two got a good scolding from her first thung at the morning.

"Idiots,” you chuckle at the memories, not knowing your tears, cunning down your tears.

You sigh, taking off your shoes, putting your bag, key, and phone down to the pavement of your backyard before you set foot on the soft grass and go to the swing to sit and lay back your back at the headboard of the swing and begin to hum the song your family loves.

“I miss you, Dad..I wish you were here,” you whisper, looking down, and you can't take the pain anymore. You sob there, curling to the ball and crying on your knees until you run out. Tears still keep dropping one tear after another, while quiet sobs keep coming out of your mouth.

Not knowing your mom is already home, standing right before your things on the pavement, happy and also sad seeing your shoulder shaking, without any doubt, your mom also took her shoes off and walked towards you.

"Sweetie,” your mom called. You quickly turn to the other way and wipe your tears, making yourself presentable as much as possible.

“What’s the problem? Honey? "Your mom sat down beside you, opening her arms for you to get in and lean on her.

“It's nothing; I just missed Dad, that's all.” Your mom didn't push you but offer a comfort that you know you can trust and lean on to her no matter what.

“Ok...just don't forget me and your sister is here, ok?”She kissed your forehead, cupping your cheeks, and made you look at her.

"Yes, Mom,” you quickly move to embrace the comfort your mom is giving you.

You’ve been out the whole day, not answering the phone calls or texting to anyone. Lizzie and the other were worried sick looking out for you.

It's 9 p.m. when you decide to head back home to your house in the city, and when you open the door, Scarlett is there, walking back and forth.

She's been worried for hours now. When the news reaches her, Lizzie doesn't have a choice but to contact Scar and ask her about the places where you could go, and that's when Scar knows that you run away.

“Y/N gosh, we were worried sick for you; where have you been?"Scarlett quickly enveloped you in her arms, but you quickly but gently got out of her

“I wanted to be alone. Please leave.” You open your front door, but Scarlett didn't move an inch.

“Y/N? "Scarlett whisper, she can read your expression and body language well, and she knows that you want space but not wanting to leave you all alone.

“What's the problem? "She tried to reach out, but you moved and opened the door more for her to get out.

“Leave me alone,” you said with so much hatred.

The more you look at her, the more your patience gets thin, and the more angry you are, you can't accept the fact that she's the person who gave birth to you and who threw you in that stupid orphanage.

And the more you hear her voice, the more your memory comes rushing back bit by bit, where you try to leave it to the back of your mind and you hate her for it.

“LEAVE NOW, DAMMIT! "You scream, not wanting to be near her anymore.

"Y/N, I'm here; you can tell me everything." Your blood boils, and you explode right there and then.

"You wanna know, huh? Ok...you wanna know how fucking bad of a mother you are, leaving your child to a shitty orphanage who makes them work and gives them a good beating when they didn't do things right or they didn't have money to give to the orphan keeper...and I fucking hate you for that." Scarlett's eyes were wide open, because her secret is out but also confused.

"How...how do you know about my daughter?" You quickly cut her off and pushed her a little.

"Cause that child you abandoned is me. You fucking left me with that monster. I have to survive in order to llive, and you... you're in your fucking mansion, drinking wine, having delicious meals,s, and living your best life while I try to survi." You push the DNA paper on her chest and clench your jaw..

So fucking leave before I drag you out of here." You drip the door handle to control yourself and not just grab her and get her out of here.

"I-I……ok,” Scarlett is speechless, and she has tears in her eyes. She wanted to explain, but she chose to leave with a heavy heart, not knowing what to do or how to approach you.

Once she's out, you quickly lock every door and window and head up to your room and lock yourself in the bathroom.

Your heart is beating loudly; you can hear it on your head; every beat brings back memories of how the paddle sounds when it hits your skin.

Every little noise coming outside sounds like how many times you and the other run away when you all hear the madam coming home.

Every scream, every cry, every shout, every pleading—you can hear it all like it's happening, and your chest starting to hurt—that makes you sit down and lean your back on the wall, clutching your chest.

You look around in hopes of distraction, but your eyes land on the razor blades you use this morning to shave.

Your mind says no, but your body has a different approach; it quickly grabs it, taking your shirt off and starting to cut your hips.

The blade kissing your tender skin, puncturing the flesh and drawing blood, and you sigh in relief, one cut after another; some are deep, some were superficial wounds. The only thing that makes you stop is when you look up at the mirror, seeing yourself.

“What have I done? ”You drop the blade;your eyes lock on the blood on your hips and hands.

“Oh god,” you shed tears over what you've done. You've been 6 years clean, and you promise your dad that you will stay clean before he dies.

And you curse yourself for doing this to yourself without thinking it, but it also makes you feel safe and alive at the same time.

You got interrupted when your phone rang and Lizzie's name flashed on your screen, so you cleared your throat and answered her call, knowing she's worried too.

*LIZZIE*

Hey-

Where have you been, huh? We’ve been going around thecity to look after you

Sorry that I worry you all. I go to Mom to clear my head

It's fine; just don't do it again, ok? Yeah

How are you? Are you okay?

Yeah, just shocked and sad and hurt. I'm fine, Liz.

I’m not convinced; I’m going there

You don't have to; I swear I’m fine, and I want to be alone.

Are you sure?

Yeah, I’m sure, just tell everyone, I’m fine and I’m sorry for making them worry.

They'll understand. Just call me when you need someone ok? I’ll be right there.

Yeah, thanks, Liz.

After saying your goodbye, you hung up and winced when you started to move to go to the

How to wash yourself, and it stings more when the water runs down to your wounds.

“I’ll be fine.” You keep chanting it until you're ready to sleep.

[endearng]

The books that I keep by my bed — are full of your stories

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader Summary: The answer is: you don't. | Part 2 to Lifeline. WC: 1.9k Warnings: none :) this is pure fluff and maybe a little delusional lol considering reader's background A/N: I have no excuse for myself, I love to call people I love and read to them. I feel like Spencer would love that as well. The title is based on the song 'Sloom', by Of Monsters and Men. <3 | masterlist

Now, a year after the incidents that made your life change for the better, as you wake up every day, you can remember the first thing you see. Maybe the white ceiling as the soft fabric of your duvet grazes your skin. Maybe a vision of your window. Maybe your nightstand, where you keep sort of a shrine — a current read, a picture of you as a kid, your reading glasses, a lamp, your favorite watch, the sobriety chip that you always put in your pocket whenever you went out. And the letters you got from Spencer, of course.

Things had been getting better, even if you had ups and downs. You slowly made your way back to college and were taking your last classes before graduation. You had an internship in a practice that allowed you to be in contact with the career you wanted to pursue, helping others through therapy. You also found your family again, having moved out of Richmond, but staying in touch and casually visiting them when you were in need of a shoulder. through it all, you got letters from dr. Spencer Reid.

You haven't met much, of course. He had stayed with you as long as he could when you were at the hospital, but he claimed that he would stay in touch. True to his words, you got letters weekly and sometimes he would call you late at night, being forced to by the timezone, in need of someone to talk to. You picked up every time and, at some point, you went to sleep hoping you'd get woken up by the sound of your phone ringing.

His letters always told stories that helped you fall asleep: creative, funny, gut wrenching at times. As time went by, you found out that, besides a great friend, he was also an incredibly talented writer. Spencer wasn't very good at disguising that it was he and his experiences that he talked about, no matter how hard he tried to convince you otherwise. You'd laugh about the fact that you were able to see right through him.

As soon as the phone stops ringing, letting him know you've taken his call, his face lights up in a smile. "Today was a good day."

"Is that so? What happened?" He asked, heart skipping a beat at the sound of your voice.

"I made some new friends at university." You squeal in excitement. He can feel the smile on your face. "They are a bit younger than me, but they are very supportive."

"I'm glad you have new friends now. University can be very demanding and overwhelming. It's important to have good company." He said, picking on a fingernail.

"I have you." You said, clutching the locker between your fingers.

He faltered.

"Y-yeah, but, you know... I'm not always around."

Glancing at your bedtime stories, you say, "You are". Yes, they are yours, because he wrote them for you.

Spencer gulps. God. This... This is getting out of hand.

Quietness. "Anyway, how was your day, Spencer?"

"It was... good. We just solved the case, but we're too tired to go back to Quantico now." He replied mindlessly.

"Then why aren't you getting some rest?"

He blurted out, "I needed to check on you."

A sigh from your end. He didn't quite know how to read that, since he was unable to look you in the eye, but he preferred thinking that you were happy that he called. "Thank you for doing that. But, you know, I'm doing good." Silence. "Are you?"

"I am, yes. I'm happy to talk to you."

"I always look forward to our calls. And your letters. You know, you're getting better at disguising yourself, Reid." You chuckle, imagining him rolling his eyes at you. "Don't say a word. Come on! A guy who sits and watches time going by? That's you! Although I was a little shocked to see that he wasn't stuck in place forever. That's a first."

He chuckled. "I assume you like it, then?"

"Very much," you quip. "I have a question, though. Is this a metaphor?"

"What for?"

"I was thinking. That guy you wrote about stays in place, apparently rooted to the spot, but suddenly he witnesses something unsettling in front of him and decides it's time to go, right?" he nods, although you can't see him. "Where to?"

"To his place."

"As in his house? Does he have one?"

Lying down on the mattress, he closes his eyes, focusing on your voice and how absolutely naive you were. "He might, yes. I might write about it whenever I can."

Again, he can feel your smile. "I'll be waiting, then. I'm glad you called."

Spencer falls asleep to your voice reading the short story he had written you, his phone clutched near to his wild heart.

—

Tonight, Spencer would actually come in to visit you. It was about time you two properly hang out together, after endless months of phone calls and letters sent to you — you had joked once that maybe he should come over. That made him drive all night to get to you.

You were a mess, having meticulously cleaned your apartment over and over so that it would be spotless when he arrived. You looked around and felt a strange sense of pride; the decor reflected the new stage of your life, the best one so far. The plants that adorned your living room, as small it may be, made you feel like you had something to care for, something to come home to. Something to be here for.

The doorbell rang. You thought you felt a ghost of sweat run down your back. Taking a deep breath, you saw Spencer Reid.

"Hi," you breathed out, the biggest, most honest smile on your face. He smiled back.

If the sun was a person, it would look like you.

In a hoarse voice, he greeted you back. "Hi."

Spencer took in your appearance. Your cheeks were fuller, your eyes were now brighter and your smile reached them. He had never seen such a sight before, and he felt his heart rate speed at the thought that it was for his eyes only. You were smiling at him. He fought the itch to give you a hug, thinking that it would be too much for you. A thought hit him then: that he would, that he could never do anything to upset you in any form.

All that from a smile alone.

"Come in, please," you said, making room for him to enter. "I'm dying to show you something."

Entering your apartment, he muttered, "I'm dying to see what it is."

Upon his arrival, the light seemed brighter and you could barely stop yourself from grinning like a damn fool. What did you do to my eyes?

"It's just a draft. I'm still working on it."

Pulled out of his reverie, he managed a small grin. Your hair was thicker, fuller, framing your face so beautifully. Your clothes fitted you a lot better and you looked very happy. Whether it was from seeing him or in general, Spencer didn't know, but he allowed himself to indulge at the precious thought. Your big, round eyes looked at him expectantly as your delicate hands held a paper out to him. Your graduation speech.

Looking at the yellowed sheet, he took it in his hands, fingers subtly brushing yours. You look at your hands. His touch doesn't make your skin crawl. It burns it.

This is the draft of a speech. I'm making sure to point this out because I must know what I'm going to say and what I won't. These last few months were challenging, but I'm finally starting to feel like myself again. I can see myself in the mirror and it's not a stranger. I'm no longer a stranger to the world, either. I talk to people. I understand them. I feel like doing things. It turns out that it wasn't too late. That I wasn't dead. I am not dead. And it took me bravery, a few people to whom I owe my life and that's not an overstatement, but that I'd like them to know that I'm immensely grateful for not letting me bleed myself out of my body. There's still me in here. And I'm nurturing her back to health with the help of my loved ones.

I'll never forget how you made me heal.

"I know it's not the best and I have a lot to say, but, um, I wanted you to see my first thoughts and I'm a bit scared you won't be there to hear me say it." You said, looking at him, who still glanced at the paper. "It's not like anything you write, because you sure have a way with words that I don't, but the thing is, I want you to feel like you've saved me. Because you did."

Unable to control his expressions, his brows furrowed as his eyes watered. You widened your own at him. "Shit. I... I'm sorry," you chuckled once he grinned at your curse. "You made me feel and realize so many things with no need for words. You looked at me and I felt seen, not wanted, not desired, not frowned upon... I felt seen. And I remember the look on your face every time I lay my head on the pillow."

It escapes him. He thinks he is just thinking it, but his mouth, lips, voice, everything betrays him. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever known."

Your flushed face, your mouth agape and your averted gaze make him smile. Warmth floods his chest when you say, "I'm lucky you think that."

"I'm lucky we met."

"I wanted to be the same way I once was before everything happened. But I guess that, I think I like me now. I like moving on. I like finding life again. And I know that whatever happens to me, I know it's better than anything."

"I want to happen with you."

Wrapping your arms around his torso, listening to his frantic heartbeat, you inhale deeply, your senses going haywire by the sheer presence of him. Your conversations made your heart feel fuller, his desire and questions to find out about you made you feel whole and you nurtured your curiosity about him as well. "Tell me how the drive went."

"It went well."

It is funny how people tend to shift between preferring the destination or the journey. To Spencer, it was both, and his analytic mind had, for once, trouble deciding between two things: the journey, where the anticipation of seeing you made his heart feel overwhelmed with joy over the mere prospect of looking in your eyes after months of falling asleep to the sound of your voice; or the destination, where he finally held you in his arms and your body pressed to his made everything feel realer than it ever was on his life.

Spencer smiled, unable to look away or to fight the blush creeping on his cheeks. Her genuine compliment left him speechless. "You... you have a way with words, you know that?" He inquired rhetorically with a tone that was a mixture of vulnerability and genuine surprise. "Your... compliments, they're..." He clears his throat, smiling dumbly, giddily, as his mind tries searching for the right adjective on his brain that apparently had short-circuited.

Smiling softly, you look up at him to brush a strand of his hair out of his face. His heart flutters because of your adoring gaze. "I love your eyes. Um, I think that they are gorgeous," you remark in that soft melodic voice that read him his short stories.

"... All yours. They are all yours."

The man rooted to the spot made his way back home.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Is it perhaps ok to ask for a single father reader? Like his child is still young, like 2-3, and reader is kinda like Tanjiro and Ubuyashiki from demon slayer? I would really like to see all the characters but I’d definitely like to see Tecchou, Jouno, Atsushi and Chuuya the most, I hope this isn’t too much or bad

Single Father! Reader

Self-Aware! BSD Cast x Male! Single Father! Reader

Description: It was supposed to be another normal day. Until your phone start glowing.

Warning: OOC, English is my second language

It was 9 pm, when you finally get home.

Before entering your apartment, you take a few breaths and put a smile on your face. With a knock, you turn your keys and opened the door.

Immediately you heard a sound of small footsteps. A three-year-old toddler waggle towards you.

Mrs. Greenhill, sweet old lady, your neighbor, followed after them. You were Incredibly lucky, that she agreed to look after [K/N], while you were at work. You nodded at her.

"Good evening, Mrs. Greenhill"

Your crouched down and hug your kid.

"Hello, [K/N]."

[K/N] giggle. They hugged you.

"Daddy home!"

Mrs. Greenhill's voice was soft.

"[K/N] were a good kid today. They were well-behaved in a daycare, ate their veggies and draw you a picture, [Y/N]."

Your kid giggle again. They wiggle out of your hold and, after taking your hand, start walking towards living room.

"Gift for daddy! Look!"

You followed [K/N], but turn your head towards Mrs. Greenhill.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Greenhill. Have I ever thanked you for..."

Old lady raised her head.

"Every day, few times a day. Don't be nervous, [Y/N], you aren't looking ungrateful. I am happy to help."

You smiled again.

It was hard to be a single parent. Your parents were against you keeping [K/N] and insisted on giving them up to adoption. When you refused, they cut all contacts with you. The rest of the family were either on their side, or ignored both you and them.

So, you and your kid were living in a small apartment, that you rented, and you were working from dusk till dawn to earn money on a dead end job (with minimal wage), so your kid can have a happy life. You, once again, mentally thanked Mrs. Greenhill for agreeing to babysit [K/N]. She was a true savior.

_____

🐾 As usual, you insisted on Mrs. Greenhill staying for dinner. As usual, after she left, you played with [K/N]. As usual, you two watch some cartoons, you read [K/N] a bedtime story and put them to bed. As usual, you prepared for tomorrow's day. As usual, you spent thirty minutes before bed to read some manga and play some games on your app. As usual, your phone glow white. As usual, BSD Characters appeared in your flat...

🐾 BSD Cast were expecting disbelief or shouting. Not heavy tired gaze, and "Congrats, [Y/N], you went crazy, what a pity...". And they didn't expect you to turned out the light and went straight to bed.

🐾 Next morning, you wake up because of delicious smell. Your yesterday's hallucinations were still here and they were cooking breakfast. What nice hallucinations. Or you are being robbed by a nice burglars.

And then you heard it. [K/N]'s voice. They were giggling. And giggles came from the kitchen.

You saw white. Without second thought, you ran into the kitchen. You grabbed first person who got into your way and growl.

"Let go of my kid!"

🐾BSD cast looked towards you nervously. Kunikida's glasses almost fall down from his nose, while he was trying to get away from your grip. Oda, despite looking at you, somehow managed to feed [K/N] a few more spoons of porridge. Your kid was giggling.

🐾 It took thirty minutes to calm you down. After that, BSD Cast finally explained, what was happening. And what they were planning to do next.

About how grateful they were. About wanting to live together, promising to make sure, that you and [K/N] will always have helpers and enough money.

And, if you don't want to stay with them, they promised monthly payments, so you could support you and your kid for the rest of [K/N]'s life.

Halfway through story, you noticed, that you were incredibly late for work. Well, you guess, you should start searching for a new job.

And then you heard Fitzgerald plans on paying you for your kindness.

...

The situation was too bizarre. You need fresh air. And a walk with [K/N] through the park.

You hopped, that you will think about, what to do next.

_______

🐾 The next few days were busy. You packed up all your things, officially quitted your job, says goodbye to Mrs. Greenhill and moved to a new house with your new friends (a.k.a. new uncles, aunts, grandparents and siblings for [K/N].

And BSD Cast start learning about new side of you. About Dad [Y/N]. And about being a big family.

_____

🐯 Atsushi act as older brother figure for [K/N]. He took it upon himself to pick them up from a daycare.

After realizing, how much you were doing for your kid and how hard it was, start respecting you even more.

📒 Kunikida is helping to teach [K/N] new things. Try to teach them about planning, but [K/N] asked "Uncle Kida" to play instead. [K/N] used puppy dog eyes. It was super effective.

🩺 Yosano is making sure, that [K/N] is healthy. And she is monitoring your health, to make sure, that all this month of overworking didn't cause any damage.

🌨️ Junchirou makes dessert for Naomi and [K/N]. He uses his ability to make [K/N]'s games more interesting.

👩🏻 Naomi took the role of big sister very serious. Makes sure, that kid are doing great.

🍵 Kirako took [K/N] to play with cats.

🛏️ Katai is finding computer games and kid cartoons for [K/N]. Monitor kids nap time.

🐄 Kenji is teaching [K/N] about farm animals and gardening. Immediately got a cow, so everyone could have fresh milk every day.

🐰 Kyouka is another big sister. She is a little bit more awkward, than Naomi, but she is doing her best.

🕵🏻 Ranpo is mischievous older brother. He is seeking candies for [K/N].

👘🗡️ You and him are members of Tired Dads(tm) club. Helps you to look after [K/N].

🪢🦀 Dazai is a fun uncle. He tries not to joke about ending his life near kid.

💉 Mori is another member of Tired Dads(tm) club. Buy your kid everything he can buy.

🍷 Chuuya is another fun uncle. He competes for kid's love with Dazai.

Respects you for being a young caring father. Ready to help you at any time of the day.

🌂 Kouyou became a mother figure for a kid. Helps you with tips on how to take care of a child.

🇫🇷 Verlaine is more distant uncle. He plays with kid and acts as a bodyguard for you and [K/N].

🎧 Rimbaud is another bodyguard. Will do anything for a kid, even play in snow during winters.

🏍️ Albatross bought at least dozens toy cars for a kid. Can't wait for a kid to grow up, so he can take kid on a motorcycle ride.

🧑‍⚕️ Doc is another doctor for a kid. Will make cast, so kid could draw on it.

🧊 Iceman is a quiet uncle. Will took kid for an ice cream, while uncles Chuuya and Dazai are arguing.

🗣️ Lippman will prepare kid for kids shows in a daycare/kindergarten. Will took thousands of pictures with mini-actor [K/N].

🎹 Piano Man is another guardian. Plays with kid almost every day.

🧥 Akutagawa tries to act as soft as he can near kid. Will be the one, who protect kid from bullies.

🔫 Higuichi is picking up cute outfits for kid. Wants to go to Disneyland with them.

🚬 Hirotsu is kid's grandpa. Takes kid for walks.

🔪 Gin is another big sister. Learn little dances with a kid.

🩹🧲 Tachihara is another big brother. And took his seriously. No one would dare to make kid cry in his presence.

🍰⭐⭕🚸 👧🏻 Aya, Oda's kids, Kyuusaku, Elise and [K/N] created a kids club. They play and have fun together.

💎 Karma is trying to look after kids. Often got sucked in their games.

🍋 Kajii will teach kid about science. He is very careful and only shows harmless experiments.

🍛 Oda is another member of Tired Dads (tm) club. Main babysitter for all kids. Very good at taking care of the kids.

💰 Fitzgerald is paying for everything. He also can't help, but cancel his plans, so he can play with [K/N].

🦝 Poe writes simple stories, so kid can practice their reading skills. Proud uncle, will treat everything kid wrote as a masterpiece.

🐋 Melville is another grandpa. Tells kid stories about sea and travels. Will play pirates with kids.

🐙 Lovecraft let kids climb over his monster form. He literally became a playground.

🍇♊ Twain and Steinbeck are taking kid on small"adventures". On a small works in forest, where they hide treasure chests with toys and candies.

☕ Lucy is another big sister. Try to compete with Kyouka for kid's love. Annie's room became a playground for a kid.

🪶 Alcott is quiet aunt. She is planning trips with kid, so they would be happy at the end.

👒 ✝️ Hawthorne and Mitchell control others, so they won't over-spoil the kid. Make sure, that kid are well-behaved and good.

😷 Pushkin read stories for a kid. Surprisingly nice and soft towards kid.

🫖 Goncharov prepares lunches for a kid.

🐀 Fyodor is playing cello for the kid. It feels strange, to hear cello cover of "Baby Shark" song.

🦇 Bram is another member of Tired Dads (tm) Club. Look after kid. Sometimes, will fly, while holding kid in his arms.

🤡 Nikolai is teaching kid magic tricks. Will always try to make him smile. Kid's partner in crime.

🃏 Sigma teaches kid new games. Shares cookies with them.

⚔️ Fukuchi is the last member of Tired Dads (tm) Club. Will be the one, who will deal with adults, who tries to make kid cry.

👧👩👵 Teruko is a spy in disguise. Will use her, ability to pretend to be a preschooler, so she can protect kid from bullies.

🌸 Tetchou will always gives kid piggyback rides. Will also play sports with kid.

Want you to teach him how to be as mentally strong as you are. You became his hero.

💧 Jouno is making sure, that Tetchou didn't overdo himself. Will play with kid hide and seek.

He thinks, that you are a very strong person. He will always remind you about your strength, when you became sad.

⛩️ Chief Taneda is another grandpa. Teach kid about different cultures.

💻 Ango play simple computer games with kid. Protective over them.

🥷 Tsujimura is playing spies with kid. Want to show kid her favorite spy movies in a future.

🕶️ Ayatsuji is making paper dolls with kid. He has a whole shelf of dolls made by kid in his doll collection.

👻 Mushitarou plays with kid. Plans to told them scary stories when they became old enough.

⌚ Gide keeps his distance. But he will be the scariest one (after you), if someone hurt the kid.

🐉🍎🍏 Shibusawa collects cool rocks and shells with kid.

🐈‍⬛ Natsume will play with kid in his cat form.

🤖 Adam became literal "robot-nanny". With Chuuya's help, he is becoming better and better.

[allidoistrytrytryy]

a moment's silence when my baby puts her mouth on me (cove holden x reader)

ao3 version here

summary: Cove Holden and the black underwear (from Patreon moment 2, if you know you know), except it's his own surprise on a random Friday (smut with feelings)

word count: 3,116 words

tags: smut, porn with feelings, porn without plot, light dom/sub, switching, sexual intimacy, they're in love your honour, author has been feeling insane about cove for years and lately about the black underwear so here we are (female reader implied but i tried to be as non-descriptive as possible, can be a male trans reader too)

You were exhausted, your fingers rubbed at your eyelids and at your forehead, trying to take the headache away.

You had had a large project at your job, long hours, and planning that took too much of your time. You came home late, too late, so late sometimes Cove would already be in bed or asleep on the couch, always waiting for you (even though you had told him to sleep, not to wait up for you if you were too late, but he insisted every time).

You sighed at the thought of your fiancee. You missed him too much, missed being able to have time with him, going out on weekends or lazing around after work to watch a show you would fall asleep through anyway, snuggled in his warmth.

You hadn’t been able to do that in more than two weeks, always working, always in contact with your coworkers to continue the project even deep into the night. You were glad today was the presentation, and then you were taking a few days off, away from everything.

You felt the fear in your gut at the presentation. You were nerves on legs, as you always were when you had to talk in front of an audience. You knew that would never change, the way you spaced out, waiting and waiting, at your desk.

Your phone buzzed on your desk, which took you out of your thoughts and the ball in your stomach. A smile crept up on your face before you even had the time to read what the text said, at the name appearing on your screen.

Cove.

Romeo: You have this, show them what you’re made of. Love you. <3

You smiled hard, your finger rubbing at the heart emoji with the text, at the picture you had set as his picture on your phone. A picture of him asleep on your couch, snuggled under a blanket, his long hair freed from its usual low bun.

You hadn’t been able to resist the urge to take a picture, and your fingers had gone through his hair.

You sent him a heart back, now fired back up. You could do this, go home and kiss your fiancee senselessly until you fell asleep snuggled into his warmth.

And the presentation happened. It went well, and you shared smiles and compliments with your colleagues. Sighs of relief. You could all go home peacefully tonight.

Which you did. You sprinted to your car when the hour came, your colleagues’ laughter following you down the elevator. They all knew you were eager to be home again, to be with the fiancee you talked about too much. (You couldn’t help it. You loved Cove Holden too much, loved him since you were eight. What could you do?)

The drive went quickly and you arrived at your little place a bit further from the city in record time. When you parked in your spot, next to Cove’s car who was already there and home, you realized you had forgotten to send him a text. You bit your lip, hoping he hadn’t waited for it.

Five unread texts with Cove inquiring about the presentation, worried. Shit.

You climbed the stairs of the apartment complex quickly, your keys already in hand. You entered.

”I’m home! Sorry, I completely forgot to answer your texts, I’m so so...” You interrupted yourself by the sight of your living room, your coffee table with a range of plates and food, and even a cake.

Hands sneaked around your waist, a kiss on your hair, a chest against your back. Your fiancee enveloped you, mint, citrus and this particular ocean smell in your nose and you finally relaxed. “Hi sweetheart, how was it?” he asked gently.

You turned around in his arms and, as always, you had to crane your neck to look up into his eyes. You hadn't been fortunate with height while Cove had had too much of it over the years. His arms circled your waist. “Went smoothly, we can finally breathe now,” you answered and got on your tiptoes to kiss him quickly, which he answered with that giddy smile he never lost around you. “Now, what’s all of this, Covie?”

”Well, I knew it would go perfectly since it’s you,” you rolled your eyes at the remark but the smile betrayed you, the blush even more. “and wanted to celebrate it. I got your favorite things from your favorite places and got a cake.”

Cove looked like it wasn’t even an effort, and it wasn’t in your relationship. You both made so much effort, so much again and again for each other that it was just normal. But, it didn't change the fact that you were always touched by every gesture.

You still couldn’t phantom how dear you were to this man sometimes. You still couldn’t understand how your heart never seemed to stop expanding for him, taking in every piece, every detail, every word and action from him.

Your hands dragged his face to you, to kiss him deeply, like you had wanted to since you had finished the project. He sighed against your lips, that content sigh, his lips and tongue entangled with yours. An intimacy you could never get enough of.

”I love you so much,” you whispered against his lips and his eyes misted over, your crybaby, always yours.

”I love you too,” he whispered as if he didn’t want to break the calm of the moment, wanted to stay in this moment suspended in time.

Until you dragged him to the couch to drape yourself over him, eating and barely paying attention to whatever was on the TV as background noise. You talked about the project. He talked about his day and his own job.

When you finished, he pushed you to the bathroom. “Go take a bath, relax, I got the dishes,” Cove reassured and you pouted.

”But, I can help, I didn’t get dinner so it should be me,” you whined in his shoulder and he laughed while pushing in the bathroom while you couldn’t do anything.

”No way. Go, now,” he kissed your cheek and you still pouted as you got into the bathroom.

You did well on what he had told you to do, spending too much time in a hot bath until it got cold, your body wrapped in your comfortable fuzzy robe. You finally stepped out to get to the bedroom, itching to put your pajamas on, and fall asleep next to Cove.

The too-large shirt was in your hands, actually just one of Cove’s shirts you had stolen and never returned, as you did since you were teenagers, even before you were officially truly together. You hadn’t realized why the light was so dim, hadn't realized Cove was on the bed.

You turned your head slowly and you felt your knees wobble, felt your eyes widen until they almost popped out of your skull.

You had seen Cove in all types of clothes and nakedness over the years. You knew him and his body by heart, the moles, the sleeve on his right arm that you loved to kiss all over, the dips, and where the redness would creep. But right now? You were speechless.

Cove fucking Holden was sat against the headboard, half-lidded eyes on you, but you could see the blush high on his face and ears and down his neck. He was naked, well, except for the underwear but it was the underwear that made you want to scream.

It was black but it barely hid anything, the green happy trail visible from that delicious V-shape you liked to bite, down a dangerous low dip. Straps followed his hips and they showed his hipbones. You almost wanted to ask him to get up and show the back, to see how it looked over that ass you loved too much.

”Surprise,” he simply said, wanting to sound sultry but ending up at excited, embarrassed, waiting.

The shirt slipped through your fingers, forgotten on the floor, and you were still speechless. “What...are you...” you swallowed hard, heat at the back of your neck, on your ears.

Large shoulders were shrugged and he tilted his head, “I… we talked about how I wanted to try some...lingerie out and I thought it would be a good idea for a celebration.”

He was still waiting and you could see how waiting affected him, the redness ever more present on his face and down his neck, the quick jostle of his knee. You approached the bed slowly, eyes laser-focused on him.

You could feel a restraint slowly unfurling in your gut, a wait. You had missed Cove and his hands on you, you had missed the everyday intimacy but you had also missed the sexual intimacy you shared. You both couldn’t have enough of each other sometimes, a pull between your hearts and your bodies.

Your hands settled on the edge of the bed, and you crawled slowly to him, putting up a show for his eyes and his eyes only. The robe dipped down and he gulped, his eyes on your cleavage, on your bare chest visible underneath. You smirked, finding a place between his legs, hands on his thighs, so so close to the dangerous piece of underwear that threatened your composure.

”So, you decided to gift my eyes with this, baby?” you whispered, a finger playing with a strap at his hip. “You’re way too good for me.”

Cove gulped again and you wanted to bite at his Adam’s apple, leaving marks on his pale skin until everybody would know. He shook his head.

”What? You don't agree that you’re too good for me?” you asked, a little pout at the words, your eyes on his face. You were playing the game of how sultry you could be, how much you could push it until his own restraints broke. “Maybe I should show you.”

Your hands traced the straps and the edges of the underwear. Your mouth found a nipple as your hands traced but never touched where you could feel a hardness growing and growing. His moans hit your ears and you smiled, your tongue playing from one nipple to another.

”You don't have to...” he tried to say, his moans high, and god, did you love how vocal he could be. He was always so vocal, so good.

”I want to, so be a good boy, baby,” you whispered, bit at the side of his chest, so muscular, so pretty. He moaned higher, hips bucking against your chest. Your mouth traveled down and down, following the green trail of hair. “Driving me crazy with this, Covie.”

Your hands caressed the hardness over the fabric, but your mouth found the tip already out with how hard he was. The dip was so low that the tip was the only thing visible, so your tongue swirled around it, the saltiness hitting your tastebuds. You moaned, fingers at the straps.

”Oh my god," Cove whined loudly, hips bucking again, the tip making its way deeper into your mouth. “Shit, sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to...”

You shook your head and pulled at the straps downward, until the underwear sat underneath his cock and you pushed more and more into your mouth, desperate for more, to make him feel even better.

”Fuck, fuck, fuck," you heard him repeat and you wanted to smile, to tease him like you always did because he only ever cursed in those moments, so gone, so desperate.

More and more, until you felt tears in your eyes, until you breathed through your nose, hands at what you couldn’t fit down your throat because of how big he was. But you loved it, thighs clenching to relieve the ache that formed in between.

It wasn’t about you, even though you could spend hours between his legs, to look at his head thrown back, his eyes closed and face scrunched up, like now. He looked out of this world, long hair around his head, down his shoulders, redness still at his face, sweat down his neck and on his chest. You couldn’t believe he was yours still.

”Shit, sweetheart, I’m gonna… I’m...” Cove’s voice rang out and you felt how tight his balls were getting, see how his abs tightened. He was close, and a part of you wanted him to cum in your mouth, but you had another plan.

You popped off his hardness with a loud pop, saliva around your mouth, and his head rose up, his eyes opened in question. You crawled back up his body, your hands opening your robe, until you could throw it on the floor beside the large bed. You settled on his lap, hands on his shoulders.

You swatted his hands away before they could fall on your hips, and you saw the small pout on his face that you kissed away with a laugh. “Sorry, no touching baby, be good a bit longer for me,” you kissed along his face, nibbled at his neck, leaving a few hickeys as your hips moved, your wetness rubbing on his cock.

Cove whined still against your shoulder, “But you look so good… And you’re so wet,” he moaned, groaned. “Let me touch you, please,” he begged but you shook your head, your hips rising up to catch the tip at the edge of your wetness, of your warmth.

You slowly sunk down, your own moan unable to stay in your throat at the delicious burn his cock always gave you, that fullness that always took your breath away. You hummed as you sank lower and lower.

His eyes were closed tightly, his body trembled when you finished back on his lap, the length fully inside you. You stayed still, enjoying the moment, and his hands stayed beside his hips, beside the underwear that was still underneath his cock, trapping his legs in place. He was taut, all muscles tight and restrained.

”Please, please, move," Cove begged and you could only answer with your hips moving up and slamming back down.

Your moans intertwined with Cove’s, as you rode him, slowly, building a faster rhythm with every breath, every moan. You rode him, a deep pleasure building in your stomach, pleasure built with his moans in your ear, your teeth at his shoulder.

You rode him until your thighs trembled and his hips, so restrained until now, slammed up in response. You almost screamed his name. It had hit that one spot deep inside and your body had fallen down onto his chest.

All restraint broke in his body, his hands at your hips, so tight you knew you would feel them still tomorrow, “Sorry, I can’t...” he breathed out, before his hips slammed up again and again, his hands guiding your hips down every time.

“Fuck, Cove, Cove,” you repeated his name, your forehead on his shoulder, your eyes on the spot that joined your two bodies together, his cock sliding in and out.

His name on your lips broke him again and you lost all control you had on the situation. His hands manhandled you on your back, almost ripped the underwear that had started it all off his legs, and he had your legs folded against his chest before he slid back in.

The breath was knocked out of your chest, your hands tugged at his hair, and your eyes were on him always. The muscles bulging with every movement, the sweat trickling down, the pure ferocity and desperation on his face.

Cove wasn't always pushed to this side of dominance, if not ever. Not to this degree. You both liked to switch, to play with what were the limits and new things, but falling back into lovemaking most of the time. Here, your gentle sweet Cove was gone, to leave a rougher Cove you loved too, your moans encouraging him.

”Don’t stop, Cove, don’t stop," you begged, hands desperate in his hair, hips moving to answer every thrust deep inside, against the spot. You could barely talk and he could only groan and moan, his own mouth busy on your nipples, back arched.

You were getting closer and closer, and he could feel it, the way you arched more and more, the way you were tighter and tighter around him, the way your moans only got louder. His eyes were on your face, a hand moving down from your hip to the nub of nerves, so wet from everything.

Your head tilted back into the pillow, “Cove, I’m… I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, warned and he hummed in response, his thumb insistent on your clit, in time with every thrust. Your back arched even more, the pleasure exploding in your stomach, behind your eyes, and in your whole body until you were left a trembling thing underneath Cove.

His thrusts slowed down, but your hips moved and you shook your head. “No, don't stop, need you to cum,” you croaked out, voice spent, hands still tugging at his hair.

”I don’t want to hurt you,” Cove moaned over you, eyes half-lidded on your face, but you shook your head again. You tugged him closer, forehead against his.

”You can’t hurt me. Please Cove, I love you, please,” you begged, his thrusts were erratic and you could tell he was close.

”I love you, fuck, I love you so much, I love you," he repeated against your cheek, and you hummed, answered back, until he moaned louder.

Until the final thrust, until he came deep inside you with your name on his lips and you kissed his face.

Cove detangled himself from you only to bring back a wet washcloth, to wipe you and himself. You only got up to go the toilets, fast and impatient, to find him back in bed, under the covers.

You cuddled in his arms, your cheek on his shoulder, legs entangled to look at him. Content, beautiful. It was magical, as always, to go to sleep with him every night, to have him be the last thing you always saw at night.

”Well, that was a nice surprise," you giggled and he smiled lazily. “I’ll be the one to surprise you next time.”

He groaned lightly but laughed, forehead hitting yours gently. “If you want me to really die, sure,” and you could only laugh, his lips on your eyelids, yours reaching up to kiss his eyebrows. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

You hummed, “I love you, Covie.”

His smile grew larger, and his cheeks turned red as always, “I love you too.”

And you fell asleep, safe, happy, home, where you belonged.

[addisonnie]

you, me, & mary-jane

summary: dealer!ellie comes in clutch in more ways than one.

warnings: make-out sesh, cursing, terrible breaking bad references

a/n: surprise! another ellie fic because i refuse to do the schoolwork that i desperately need to finish! wooooooooo dealer ellie is yum. i actually kinda hate this! enjoy! oh god also listen to “meddle about” by chase atlantic while you read if you would like. ellie=chase atlantic okay bye

part 2 —> part 3

There are several things in life that you can live without. Weed is not one of them.

You’re huffing and borderline growling as you dig through various stash locations in your room. Closet, empty. Under the mattress, nothing but crumbs. In every single pants pocket? Zero. Zilch. Not one lush green nug was found.

What could be chalked up to a literal war cry left your lips as you sat on the floor with your head in your hands, “this is it. This is the end.”

Dina’s head poked up from the side of her bed, “what are you whining about down there?”

Leaning your head back onto the wall, you sent Dina a harsh glare, “you and Jesse smoked the last of it! And I’m flat broke, too!”

She sat up fully in her bed, eyes wide and crazy, “bitch! Don’t pin this on us! You said it was fine.”

“That was last night! This is today! Today I just want to smoke my silly little bowl and enjoy my silly little high.” You groan and knock your head against the wall a few times.

Fishing your phone from your back pocket, you open iMessage. Hopefully your plug isn’t busy right now. Last time you bought from him was in the parking lot of his youngest child’s soccer game. Maybe buying from a 40-something father of three isn’t always the best idea—at least he won’t rip you off?

Hey. You busy?

Tom usually responds right away. His clients doubled as his friends (you being his ex-babysitter) and he always loved to provide for them.

Who is this?

Well, that’s strange. Tom definitely has your number saved. And, Tom definitely knows who you are.

Don’t play, Tom. I want to buy!!!!

You watch the text bubbles pop up and disappear in the bottom corner of the screen a few times, showing that he’s typing out a response and deleting it over and over.

This is his wife. Don’t text this number again. He is married. And he does not sell what you want to “buy.”

You could really cry at this moment. Like, honestly and truly sob. A long huff leaves your lips and you knuckle at your eyes aggressively. Fucking bullshit. Tom’s wife was always kind of a bitch, to be fair. But you didn’t think she’d ever pull a Skylar White on you. What does a girl have to do to get some weed around here?

“Do you know any other dealers? I just got told off by Tom’s wife.” Dina laughed from her bed.

“My name is Skylar White, yo. My husband is Walter White, yo.” You couldn’t help but laugh, “that’s exactly what I was thinking!”

She sits up in her bed, hanging her tanned legs off the side, “here. I have mutual friends with this girl, think her name is Ellie? I heard she sells. Good prices too.”

Dina tosses her phone into your lap from where she sits and allows you to send the contact to yourself.

Hey. Is this Ellie?

———

Ellie takes a couple hours before responding.

It depends on who’s asking?

Your professor drones on about some random Shakespeare play and you can’t bring yourself to pay attention while you read over Ellie’s text.

Dina gave me your number, I heard you sell?

Man. I really hope you’re not a cop.

You chuckle at her text.

Not a cop. Twenty year old girl over here. I love One Direction.

That sounds like something an undercover cop would say.

Ellie made a good point. You scroll through your camera roll trying to find a recent selfie before landing on one you took a couple days ago. You’re clearly high in the picture, so maybe Ellie will take the hint.

Here. Proof. Not a cop :)

Pretty.

She sent her address in a separate text and informs you to meet her there around 7pm when she’s done with her night class. Your professor excuses the class and leaves the remainder of students to pack their things. 5pm. Usually you smoke before going to pick up. Clearly, that’s not an option today. What does one do while they wait if they have no weed?

———

Nothing. One does absolutely nothing if they have no weed.

You knock on Ellie’s front door and wait a few beats before stepping back from the doorway. The lock clicks before the dingy wooden door opens inward,

“Hey!”

Oh, damn. She is fine.

Her auburn hair is short and rests about an inch above her shoulders. It’s pulled slightly up into a bun and several short strands curl lightly along the nape of her neck.

“Hey! Ellie, right?”

She smiles, “that’s me.” The door is pulled open wider and she beckons you to come inside. A botanical tattoo swirls along her forearm and you find yourself staring at her awkwardly before you step into the house.

She tugs off her flannel and slings it over the back of a woven couch, leaving her in a fitted white tank top.

You suck in a breath, “how are you?”

How are you? Really? Who says that to a drug dealer?

She chuckles and slouches into the couch, patting the open spot beside her, “pretty good. How about you?”

“Honestly? I’m suffering.”

She laughs fully this time, “that bad, huh? Your dealer die or something?”

“God, I wish. His wife responded to my text and told me to fuck off, basically. That he doesn’t sell what I buy.” Ellie cringes and shakes her head, her lips pressed into a tight frown,

“she Skylar-Whited you? That’s pretty fucking rough.”

“That’s exactly what I said! Call me Jesse Pinkman, I guess.” Ellie shook her head again and leaned forward to grab a small mahogany box.

Her long fingers opened the lid and scrounged through the container before she happily hummed and held up what she was looking for. A joint was pressed between her fingers and she quickly snatched a lighter off the coffee table.

After she placed the box back on the table, she leaned back into the couch and stretched her arm along the back of it, her fingers barely grazing your shoulder. Ellie turned to face you and held the joint to your lips, “open up.”

Your face flushes as you do what she asked—demanded. Her fingers place the joint onto your awaiting lips and she quickly lights the paper, still holding the joint to your mouth.

What is this girl on? You can’t help but feel as if this is strangely intimate. Tom never held a joint to your lips! On second thought, it’s probably good that he didn’t.

You inhale and she pulls the joint to meet her own mouth as she watches you exhale.

“We can smoke this and then I’ll grind up some for you.” She passes you the joint this time.

“Oh—you don’t have to. I can take the nugs. I don’t want to trouble you.” You pass it back.

She smirks, the joint hanging from the side of her mouth, “no trouble at all. Happy to do it.”

“Is that what you tell all of your clients?”

Another smirk, “only the pretty ones.”

The joint is placed back into your fingertips and you are very glad, this way you can explain the extreme blush creeping up onto your cheeks as just you being overly high. Ellie has somehow moved closer to you, her thigh is pressed up against yours and the arm she has outstretched across the back of the couch skims the back of your shoulders. A chill rakes through your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Here, take it.” The hand she has resting behind your head snatches her discarded flannel and drops it into your lap.

“Oh—thanks.” She hums in response.

———

Ellis is funny as hell. Each sentence that escapes her plump lips makes less sense than the last,

“would you rather be trapped in a locked room with a gorilla, or with…with a shit ton of cockroaches?”

She’s sitting opposite you on the couch, her back leaning against one armrest. One of her legs is bent and squished against the back of the couch, her other is sprawled off the edge of the couch. Bit of a man-spreader, this one. Your back is pressed to the opposite arm rest and your legs are stretched outward, resting softly in her lap.

Again, weirdly intimate.

“Oh. Fuck, probably the roaches? Just step on ‘em. Yanno?”

She gasps and latches onto your sock-clad feet, “sickening! Me and that gorilla are gonna be friends.”

You squint at her, “you gonna sell him some Mary-Jane?”

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’ and passes you the remainder of the joint. Your fingers skim over hers and she blushes a bit, nudging your finger with hers.

“Hey—so how much do I owe you?” You immediately regret ruining the moment the second the words pass your lips.

“Well, flattery works with me—“ you cut her off, “oh yeah? I would’ve kissed you earlier, had I known that.”

She flushes, “you can—um. You can still kiss me. If you want.”

And, just like that, your eyes turn into hearts and start beating rapidly. You surge forward and press your lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when she flicks the joint out of her fingertips and grabs your cheeks, pulling you closer.

Her mouth melds to yours and immediately has you panting like a bitch in heat. She moves one of her hands to pinch at your hip, grasping and probing at you until you wind up straddling her lap. You press your chest into hers and squeak when you feel her hand push your hip down, effectively grinding you down onto her. A strangled whine leaves your lips as she pulls away and begins kissing down the column of your throat.

Her mouth is wet and firm while she sucks and nips on any naked skin she can find, moaning when she feels your fingers card through her hair. Your hips continually rut into hers and she quickly sets a different pace, gripping your hips and dragging you forward and back on her lap. Ellie moans when you grab her hair and pull. Her face is removed from your neck at the force of your tug and she pants to catch her breath before opening her eyes to meet yours.

“How’s free sound?” She gives you a crooked smirk and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

“Sounds like I’m ripping you off, Ellie.”

She groans and throws her head back onto the couch, “I love the way you say my name. And it’s not ripping me off, babe.”

And you’re blushing again. Babe. She called you babe.

She continues, “think of it as a little sampler. Free shared joint, some ground up weed, and some Ellie.”

You grab her cheeks and squish them together, “only if you swear this sampler is offered to me only. Can’t have anyone stealing my deals.”

She brushes your hands off and smirks again, “like I said earlier, pretty girls only.”

“You said ‘girls’ plural.” She laughs.

“I’ve got three clients. A grown man named Joel, one of the sociology professors—don’t tell anyone I said that. Then you. And I’m a lesbian, so…” She trails off at the end of her sentence and looks down at your lips again, hands splayed across your thighs.

You kiss her again. It’s short and chaste and it leaves Ellie chasing your lips for just one more. Two more. Three. How’s five sound?

She presses kisses to your puckered lips over and over, “all,” kiss, “the weed,” kiss, “you can,” kiss, “dream of.”

Ellie finally pulls away to fully look at you, “I mean it. You can have all the weed you want if you keep kissing me like that.”

————

When you finally clamber off of her lap and detach her hands from your hips it’s almost one in the morning. She sighs while she watches you stuff your ‘goody bag’ into your purse, slipping your shoes back on. Her fingers beckon you back to the couch and she taps your right leg until you bend it and rest your foot on top of her thigh. You were planning on walking home with your shoes untied, but Ellie’s nimble fingers quickly double knot each of your shoes; She presses a kiss to each of your knees before letting them straighten back out.

Her hands find your hips again—shocker— while she walks you to the front door. A kiss is pressed to your lips one last time and she gives you a firm squeeze when you lean in to hug her.

“Come back soon. Fuck that guy, I’m your new dealer for life.” You smile and step outside, “okay.”

She definitely tied your shoes too tight and you make a mental note to fix it when you’re out of her eyesight. As you’re walking down the sidewalk that leads you to campus she calls your name,

“Get home safe, yeah? Text me when you’re back!”

You will definitely text her.

[seungfl0wer]

for number 35 with Seungmin, I think it was the 60 more prompts list

*Delete it*

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader (GN)

Genre: Fluff/Crack

Warnings: Nothing? Seungmin calls reader an ass lol. Just 2 friends being assholes to one another

These are prompts from both my lists. Promt list one: 35. “Youre acting like a child” Promt list two: 35. “Delete it”

Idk how this came to be honestly. Sometimes things just come and I just write man lol. It’s a bit shorter than normal but I wasn’t sure if you wanted smut/fluff/angst. So this is kinda fluff but also crack but also idk. If you’d like another one with the same stuff please let me know. I thought this was a cute little scenario but now I’m second guessing myself uuugh i also did both 35s on each promt list just to be safe lol

-🩵

Sitting on the couch with your best friend scrolling your phone. He lightly pushes you “dude you haven’t sent out your streaks today for Snapchat, if we lose ours I will in fact jump out this window” he says laughing. You roll your eyes at him but he has a point you two have had a streak on snap for like 2 years now even if you barely use it you get on just for that.

So you pull Snapchat up and snap a really unflattering picture of yourself. Double chins, tongue out, eyes crossed whatever and you send it to him. Just him. When he opens it he bursts into laughter screen-shotting it fast. Your eyes wide, shit you just gave him the perfect black mail photo. “I’m gonna make that your new contact picture” he snorts out still laughing at it. You quickly grab for his phone “Come on Min delete it” you whine. He gave you this devilish smile “nah, I think I’ll post it to instagram.” He says pulling the app up on his phone.

“You wouldn’t dare” you stared daggers at him. “Oh y/n it’s just a photo.” He said as he loaded it up to post. You sat there staring at him “if you post it I’m not talking to you the rest of the night” you say staring him dead in the eye with the most serous expression. “I can live with that” he shrugged Hitting post. You couldn’t believe he actually posted it I mean you can but you can’t.

You shook your head at him crossing your arms “fuck you Min” he tilted his head a smirk creeping across his face “thought you weren’t talking to me” he said. Your eyes looked him over he thought you were bluffing but no. “I’m not talking to you until you delete it” you hissed. Those were gonna be the last words heard until he did so.

You were quiet the rest of the night even with the poor puppy whining about it. “Are you really gonna not talk?” “Come on y/n it’s not that bad” “talk to me please it’s been 3 hours of silence I can’t take it.”

All his words fell onto unspoken ears. You weren’t gonna budge this time. It was time for you to head home anyways you started to get up and grab your jacket before heading to the door. This put Min into a panic he rushed after you grabbing you pulling you back to the room. “No no no no you’re not leaving until you speak to me” he said his eyes pleaded. You shook your head no getting back up again “y/n you’re acting like a child!” He said picking you up by the waist.

“Stop trying to leave you ass” he said teasing. He started at you for a second and sighed “fine y/n I’ll delete it” he said before pulling his phone up again. Before smiling “I’ll delete it on one condition.” You squinted at him are you really trying to give orders like that when he was whining a few seconds ago.

“I’ll delete it if and only if you let me keep it for your contact picture, and I’ll promise you not to post it anywhere” he said smiling. You let out a deep sigh rolling your eyes “fine but if you post it anywhere I’ll go a week with out talking to you” you said and if those looks you were giving him could kill he’d be six feet under. He nodded “ok ok I get it I promise” he said deleting it from instagram.

“You are a child” he teased pushing you slightly. “If I’m a child what does that make you?” You teased back. He rolled his eyes “your dad?” The comment made you both laugh super hard.

Min is a big’ol dummy but you know damn well he can’t go long without talking to you. He would quite literally go insane.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[honey-riley]

Love You To Death || S.R. || 2 || Hang

WARNINGS: a little bit of paranoid Simon, domestic Simon.

wc: 1.9k

1 || 2 || 3

In the morning, Simon's schedule was interrupted for the second time. Honey stood in the shower of their now shared bathroom, preparing for the day. It was already early in the morning - earlier than Simon liked. Simon was the type to wake up pretty early in the morning, but this was too early for him. Checking his watch, it was 3:38 a.m. Soap would never get up this early.

He sat up, rubbing his face, sliding his legs off of his bed. He stretched his aching back out, letting out a grunt. He shuffled over to his closet, grabbing his stuff for the day. He got dressed and put his mask on, checking the weather. Seeing that it was going to be rainy and cold all day, he threw on a sweatshirt as well. The sweatshirt was black and had Lt. Riley on the back, in bold, yellow letters on his shoulders.

He sat back down on his bed since he had a bit more time before he had to be up and about. He grabbed his phone, checking what little social media he had.

All of his social media was private, and never gave any information about him, making sure that it was completely anonymous. He didn't even like having a phone on him — or at all. He knew that if shit hit the fan, and the enemy found his phone, anyone he had in there could be fucked over. He never saved contacts, never had any pictures of anyone, and especially never took pictures with anyone.

Within the next 20 minutes, the shower stopped, and within minutes afterwards, Honey stepped out, dressed in her uniform, her hair tied in a braid that rested between her shoulder blades, tracing along her spine.

"Did I wake you?" She asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

Ghost grumbled something in response, not bothering to give her an actual reply. He glanced up, watching as Honey put her boots onto her feet — pushing the tongue out of the way, sliding her foot in, pulling the sides up, ensuring that the ends of her pants went into the boots, and lacing them tight. She tugged on the ends of her pants for a moment, giving them a neater look.

"When is breakfast?" She questioned softly.

"5." Ghost grunted, paying more attention to his phone than her.

"This is temporary, I am temporary. It's not like I'll be here forever." Honey reminded him.

"I know." Ghost replied, glancing up at her for a moment.

For the next hour, Honey sat on her bed, reading a book. The silence and the tension radiating from Ghost was palpable.

As soon as Simon's watch went off, they both stood up, and went to the mess hall. They met with the rest of the team, and Honey sat sandwiched between Price and Gaz. Soap and Ghost sat across from them.

"You did well yesterday, kid." Price smiled as he ate his breakfast.

"Thank you, Captain." Honey said softly with a small nod. She looked down at her food, keeping her eyes off of the team as she ate.

"Four months left with ye?" Soap questioned. Honey nodded again.

"Months?" Ghost said, almost whining. He didn't want to be stuck with her for months.

"Simon, dinnae be a prick." Soap said, nudging him with a disapproving look.

"She thinks she's better than everyone, Soap! She's the one who got the shot, she's the one who walked in here, killed the guy that we've been hunting for years. That was supposed to be my shot!" Ghost growled, starting to get frustrated.

"Step outside, Simon." Price said, standing up and grabbing him by the bicep, getting him to his feet. Price led him outside of the mess hall, shutting the door behind them.

"I don't know what stick got up your ass, but you need to do something about it. I've never seen you act this way." Price said, looking up at Ghost. Though Ghost was the tallest of the team, Price could reduce him down to Simon.

Price was like Ghost's father figure — the father that he never had.

"There's something about her, Price. I'm telling you. I don't like her. She's... off." Ghost replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm sorry, Cap. I know I'm probably being irrational, but I can't stand her. Can we at least transfer rooms or something?" Ghost sighed.

"How about you get some time off, yeah? Time to relax and think. She hasn't done anything to you, correct?" Price asked, his eyebrow raising.

"No, Sir. She hasn't done anything to me. She just gets on my nerves. Like she knows exactly where to pull and push me." Ghost replied.

Price nodded, looking up at him. "We don't have anything going on for these next few days except for paperwork. I'll send you home, and email you the paperwork. You can print it, do it, and then come back with it." Price replied. Ghost nodded, letting out a sigh of relief.

With a pat on Ghost's back, Price sent him home.

The next few days were filled with his usual routines, finding the much needed solace in them. He woke up at the same time, watered his plants, read a book, fed his cats, did whatever he needed to.

Simon had two cats, Trooper and Tank. They were brothers — Simon figured getting them both would make it easier on them. They were both Ragdolls, Trooper having a cream colored body, brown paws, and a brown head. Tank had a cream colored body with a cream head, and a brown tail with brown paws. Trooper was the more playful of the two, Tank being the most laid-back.

Simon sat in his recliner, Tank perched on his knee, and Trooper sitting on the back of the recliner as Simon read his book. He had his reading glasses on as he skimmed over the pages. The ringing in his ears from the gunfire that was constantly around him was a thing that he had gotten used to. It served to take his mind off of the incomprehensible silence that always wracked his home.

After about an hour, Simon put his book down, standing up. It was almost 5 pm, which meant that he would have to start making dinner soon.

"What should I have for dinner, boys?" Simon sighed, looking down at the cats that trailed behind him more than his own shadow did. Trooper let out a chirp, and Simon nodded, pretending to understand him.

After a bit of debating with himself, Simon decided on pesto and pasta. Checking the cupboards, he noticed he was out of pasta. He put his shoes on, grabbed his keys, and a black surgical mask and left.

While at the store, he grabbed the necessary things. Standing in line, that's when he realized he forgot his wallet.

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath, feeling his pockets. A hand shoved a £20 bill in his hand, and he looked up at the person who did so. It was Honey.

"Don't worry about it." She smiled softly, clearly not recognizing him.

He stared down at her for a moment, refusing to take the money.

"Sergeant." He said under his breath. That's when Honey's face dropped a little. She gave him a nervous smile, motioning for him to take it.

"It's really no problem, Sir." She said softly, watching as he took it out of her hand.

"I owe you." He said getting his groceries. Honey shook her head, buying her own things.

"I told you not to worry."

"I refuse to let this go unpaid."

"Lieutenant."

"I'll let you come over and have dinner, how about that?"

Honey's heart nearly stopped in her chest when he said that. She looked up at him in disbelief, blinking up at him. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.

"Um.. Yeah. Y-Yeah." She stuttered out. He gave her a nod, and they went back to their cars. Honey followed him to his house, and he let her inside. She glanced around the place, taking her shoes off at the door.

"Listen, I'm sorry for whatever I did to you. I understand that you're upset about the shot, and that's completely fair." She said, standing shyly by the door.

"What's unfair is my attitude towards you." He replied, watching as Tank and Trooper peeked out curiously from under the couch. Honey glanced over, a small smile finding her face.

Simon turned back to the stove, getting ready to cook.

"There's beer in the fridge, make yourself comfortable." He announced, getting all of his ingredients for the pesto. Honey nodded, going into the kitchen and grabbing a beer out of the fridge, sitting down at the kitchen island. She watched as he cooked, taking sips off of her beer.

"Where are you from?" He asked, attempting to make small-talk.

"Lübeck, Germany." She replied. "You're from Manchester, right?" She asked.

"How'd you know?" He questioned, his brow furrowed as he cooked.

"Accent." She said softly. He nodded, salting the water as he waited for it to boil.

"Got any friends here?" He asked after a few beats.

"A boyfriend, but he works a lot." She replied. He nodded, watching as the water started to boil. It wasn't enough to put the pasta in, but he was patient.

"What's his name?" Simon asked.

"Benjamin Morgan." Honey replied softly. Simon nodded, leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms.

"How long have you two been together?" He asked.

"About a year." She sighed softly. His eyebrow raised as he heard her tone. She didn't sound happy about that. He nodded for her to continue.

"He's a good guy, just.. has some problems." Honey shrugged softly.

"What kind of problems?"

Honey shrugged again, not wanting to get too into it. He nodded, understanding that he shouldn't dig deeper.

He turned, putting the pasta into the water.

"If you need a place to stay, let me know. You can stay here, or I can get a place arranged for you."

Honey's face dropped a little, looking up at him.

"Was I that easy to read?" She murmured under her breath.

"When someone's been through the same thing, they know." Simon replied.

"You're worth more than that, Honey. You don't deserve the shit he's put you through. No matter how much he leans on his problems." He added. Honey's breath caught in her throat as she blinked up at him.

"Thank you." She whispered. He gave a nod, watching as the cats came out.

"That's Trooper and Tank. Tank is the mostly cream one with the brown tail, Trooper is the one with the brown head. The colors fit the personalities. Trooper's a shithead." He said softly.

Honey giggled softly, shaking her head.

"Didn't know you were a cat person."

"Me neither."

Honey's demeanor warmed up a little, the weight lifting off of her chest as she looked down at the cats. They sauntered next to each other, their tails wrapping around each other.

"They're brothers. About four years old." Simon said, glancing down at the cats.

"They're pretty." Honey smiled, watching as the cats sniffed at her. She reached her hand down, letting them get a better smell. Tank rubbed his head against her palm, and Honey took the opportunity to pet him. She glanced into the living room, taking note of the library in the corner.

"You read too?" She asked softly. He nodded.

"What do you read?"

"A bit of everything."

"Romance?"

"Occasionally."

She giggled at that — surprised that a man like him would read something as simple as a romance novel.

"Most people don't guess that one. I like to feel loved as well." He grumbled, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he drained the pasta then put the sauce in.

sorry this one took so long to get out, ya'll. Haven't felt very motivated, but now that I feel like I have the ball rolling, I'll be pumping these out :)

[nathanbatemanfucker]

The Bee and the Bear, Chapter 3: Like a Bear to a Hive

summary: carmy cooks Bee dinner.

pairing: carmy berzatto x f!reader (Bee)

contents: 18+/NSFW/heavy content/eventual smut, mention of suicide/mental illness, grief, longing, pining, angst, friends to strangersish to lovers, food and alcohol mention

wc: 2.7k

an: god i love these two so badddddd. i love their tenderness despite the awkwardness…i love how palpable how much they mean to the other is. PS this isn’t beta’d so if you see something insanely fucked pls let me know! PSS totto’s market is real and located in chicago…highly recommend it!

series masterlist

< | chapter 2: Back in the Beef

You can’t figure out what to wear. You’ve been back and forth, digging through your suitcase like a madwoman and standing in front of the mirror in your childhood room. This crisis is silly, it shouldn’t even be a crisis. Carmy has seen you in more than 80% of your wardrobe. Sure, you’ve gotten clothing for work, some racier things from your bar crawl days in undergrad. You’d brought neither of those categories with you– jeans and sweaters, a polished suit suit for Mikey’s funeral.

But, how do you dress for hanging out with Carmen Berzatto for the first time since you were just a teenager?

The answer is a paradox because its unclearly clear. This isn’t a special occasion and it is decidedly not a date. You’re a faithful woman, one who’s trying so desperately to protect your heart while simultaneously letting yourself have this. It feels pathetic to think about how long you’ve been waiting for a moment like this.

There was a time where missing Carmy completely consumed you. This is your way of letting yourself heal, or maybe it’s just going to make that feeling resurface when you inevitably go back home and history repeats itself. Your thoughts start to grow, mind swirling with doubt when your phone begins to buzz where its sat on your bedside table.

A picture of you and Kyle pops up on the display, his contact name a simple blue heart.

You answer it quietly, “Hello?”

“Hi, honey.”

“Hey,” You breathe, falling back into bed, giving yourself a reprieve from staring at every piece of clothing you’d packed.

“You sound tense,” And while he’s bringing it up, there’s no true concern that you can detect in his voice.

“No, not tense at all, just—pretty tired.”

It isn’t a complete lie. Despite feeling wired and on edge about seeing Carmy, there’s a heaviness to your limbs– fatigue from the last few days.

“Oh, are you heading to bed soon?”

You take in a shaky breath. Outright lying to him isn’t an option, you’re a good partner— a faithful partner, so you’ll just be honest. You close your eyes, struggling to keep your voice nonchalant, “Actually I’m getting dinner– well Carmy’s making dinner.”

Silence stretches between the two of you and you open your mouth to say something, anything but Kyle beats you to it.

“First time you’re seeing him since you moved out here, yeah?” He asks quietly. There’s a stillness in his tone that sends a chill down your spine.

“Yeah, it’ll be good to catch up with him. See what’s changed since we were babies.”

“And you still trust him? I mean its been–”

“He’s one of my best friends, Kyle,” You say quickly, before he can voice any of his opinions on Carmy or any of your other friends from home.

He doesn’t understand your bond with Nat or Carmy or Richie— hardly understood why you felt so compelled to come home from Mikey’s funeral when you hadn’t seen him in years. Kyle has no friends from his childhood, it’s just him and the steady, sterile climb into corporate America, full of empty smiles and cold happy hours. He doesn’t understand the warmth that ties you all together no matter how far you go, like the roots of a tree.

“One of your best friends? That you haven’t seen since before you could order your own glass of bourbon?” He challenges, chuckling under his breath.

“He means a lot to me. You know that.”

“How could I forget.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, “Please, Kyle, it's not like that. It's never been like that. We’re platonic. I know it's weird for you but just– it's nice. To have him back after all these years. After losing Mikey.”

“Alright, I’m sorry. I know how much that little group of friends means to you even if they all have a weird way of showing it.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when I make it home?”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Your conversation with Kyle feels like a cold shower. You’d just lied to him and now you’re second guessing everything. Should you really be doing this? Would this just be torture? Is having him in this way worse than not having him at all? Things with Carmy had never been voluntarily platonic.

Your phone buzzes and you think that its a text from Kyle– an overprotective “be careful” or “are you sure?”. To your surprise, its Carmy. Was he canceling? Why did that make your heart ache when you were just rethinking this yourself.

Bear 🤎: Looking forward to tonight. 8 still ok?

You stare at the text for several seconds, unaware of the soft smile that spreads across your face. He still has a contact photo– the two of you together for the last time before going off sitting outside the Adler Planetarium listening to the lakeside waves. Sugar had taken the photo while Mikey and Richie shadow boxed in the parking lot like a couple idiots.

Another text rolls in, pulling you from that memory.

Bear 🤎: We could do it sooner if you get tired early.

You: 8’s good, I still have to get wine.

Bear: See you soon.

You: Soon.

For a moment, you wish that you and Carmy were having lunch– you could take a walk down the Chicago streets, the wind whipping at your cheeks and clearing your head. But it’s nearly 7 and that wouldn’t be the safest thing to do. Finally you dress, settling on jeans and a chunky knit sweater that’s your favorite color. You bid your parents goodbye, ignoring their strangely wide smiles at the mention of Carmy and head for their car. Your favorite little store, Totto’s Market is just around the corner and you park the car and pop inside, needing to get in and out since your forgoed paying the meter.

Wine is an easy pick, one of your favorite whites that’s on the sweeter side. Dessert proves to be a challenge— Totto’s always has an assortment of killer pastries, flavorful ice cream and unique delicacies. You decide to play it safe with something you know Carmy will love: a orange and pistachio scone. He appreciates the brightness of citrusy paired with the earthy, salty pistachio, not to mention the buttery, crumbly scone. You’re out in less than 10 minutes and head towards Carmy’s.

When you pull up to his apartment building you do pay the parking meter, the hopeful part of you paying for a few hours. It could be something quick, dinner could be done and plated, awkward and over in no time. But you hope that that spark is still there, that he’s missed you just as much as you missed him.

He appears at the door pulling you out of your thoughts. He’s in a white t-shirt as always, but this one looks pristine with no wrinkles and is tucked into a brown pair of dickies instead of his usual messy jeans. He smiles bright, his eyes crystal blue, “Hey, c’mon in.”

“Yeah, sure,” You say awkwardly, following him inside.

“Whatcha got here? Lemme see,” He says, taking the bag from you once the two of you make it into the kitchen– you hope he doesn’t notice how slick your hands are, how they stuck slightly to the handles of the paper bag.His grin widens as he pulls out the bottle of wine you got, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “This is perfect.”

“Yeah? You’re not just humoring me.”

“I’m not, it’s a great pair with dinner. Sit,” He points to one of the bar stools tucked under the counter and you do, hoisting yourself up.

“What’s this?” He holds up the pastry bag, before opening it and inhaling. “Whoa.”

“Orange and pistachio scones. I didn’t know what you were making so I thought I’d go light for dessert.”

He gives you a nod of approval and sets down the bag, bending down to get a pot from the lower cabinets.

“I get to watch, hmm?” You ask, surprised but excited.

You hadn’t anticipated that he’d start cooking after you got there. Sure, he’d asked you to hang out but since then you’ve been wondering— is he doing this out of guilt? Out of pity? It had you thinking that he’d want to spend a limited amount of time with you, even with his enthusiasm. Your brain cycles through that back and forth, basking in his eagerness and questioning it many times in the span of minutes. But now you’re here. Now he’s cooking for you and those voices are a little softer in your head, overwhelmed by Carmy.

He shrugs, shifting awkwardly, “Thought I’d do it this way, for old time sake.”

“For old time sake,” You repeat quietly, watching as he starts to putter around the kitchen.

He heads for the fridge first, grabbing a couple wine glasses out of his freezer and pouring you both a glass before he gets started on prep. There’s soft music playing that you finally notice as you settle in, the gentle picking of guitar, accompanied by a piano melody.

“Actually…you still remember how to dice?” He teases, glancing over his shoulder at you, as he opens a container of eggs.

“Taught by the best,” You hop up, bringing your glass of wine with you as you join him at the prep station.

He looks smug for a moment before his brows knit together, “Wait— didn’t Mikey teach you how to dice?”

“I did say the best.”

He tries to look put out with you but the edges of his mouth twitch begging to smile. He nudges your shoulder, “Bull.”

“I think Mikey would disagree.”

“‘Course he would.” He’s quiet for a moment, squinting over at you, formulating his next words, “Where were you— when you?”

You take in a deep breath, shoulders dropping lower than before upon your exhale, “Uh, at work actually. Showing a new client around the gallery.”

“Sugar?”

“Richie. Sugar was…well she was telling you I’d imagining. Or falling apart. Both probably.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you slip into a comfortable silence, working at your respective stations. You glance over at him a few times, wondering if you should say what’s on your mind or leave it be.

“Say it.”

“Huh?” You finish chopping, looking up from the cutting board.”

“Whatever’s on your mind. You can say it.”

Incredible how after all this time apart, he can still read you like an open book. You shouldn’t be surprised since you can do the same to him…but what you’ve felt for him has always been different than what he felt for you. Right?

You sigh, shrugging a bit as you gather the onions you’ve successfully diced up in a pile, “Oh, uh, I was just…I realized I hadn’t said I’m sorry. About Mikey, I mean.”

He’s quiet for a moment, though his hands don’t stop working until he looks over at you, “Me too. For you. For all of us.”

“He’s your brother, Carm, you don’t have to extend me sympathy.”

“He meant a lot to you, too.”

You nod, staying quiet; there’s no use in arguing with that logic. He thanks you for dicing and tells you to go get comfortable on the couch while he finishes the rest. You protest insisting there's more you can do to help, but he gives you a no nonsense look pointing to the couch. You hold up your hands in surrender, grabbing your wine glass before taking a seat. From here you can still see him from the waist up and you watch him move around the kitchen. His quick, graceful way makes you realize that you would have just been in his way, slowing him down. As time passes his apartment fills with the scent of herbs, spicy chilis, aromatic tomatoes, and toasty bread.

Dinner is ready in no time at all– he isn’t an award winning chef for nothing– and you return to the counter when he plates the food at the bar. The two of you take turns talking, him first about the special changes he’s made to Mikey’s family spaghetti recipe, you about how well the gallery is flourishing, how its taking up too much of your time and that you haven’t gotten to create as much as you wanted in the coming months.

Your stomach is overtly full by the time you take the last bite, and you wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin as you say, “I owe you for this, this was incredible.”

Carmy shrugs it off, “You’ve had this a million times.”

“Not from your hands. Not like this, all those tweaks you made shine through.”

It’s impossible to deny the flush that stains his cheeks but you do anyway, sparing your heart. “My hands aren’t special.”

You knock his shoulder with your own, tone teasing as you say, “Sure they are, they’re attached to you aren’t they?”

Carmy finds himself speechless, unable to do anything but stare at you in a mixture of shock and bashfulness. That soft pink blush deepens, and the plain evidence of your effect on him has your heart skipping.

You clear your throat, looking away from his gaze to fiddle with your fork, “I actually have something for you, give you an excuse to see me one more time.”

“I don’t need an excuse to see you.”

“Carmy,” You say knowingly and he dips his head a little in defeat.

“That’s the past. It shouldn’t have happened and– I’m sorry. Y’know, I’m sorry.”

Your gaze softens, and you reach out to squeeze his shoulder soothingly for a moment, “Don’t—like you said it's the past. I need to call in a favor so give me two days? Friday night?”

He melts under your touch, looking over at you with a soft smile, “Friday night.

“I’ll pick you up,” You offer.

“That much of a surprise, huh?”

“We can’t all cook the surprise, sometimes location is all a girl can have.”

“You’ve got more than that. Way more than that.”

“Oh really?” You roll your eyes playfully before meeting his gaze— its heart stopping. Sobering.

His eyes pierce into you, down to the softest part of your heart, the part only ever reserved for him. “Yeah,” He breathes roughly.

When had you gotten so close to him? You can smell his scent, worn leather and cigarettes, a hint of some citrusy cologne that he dabs behind his ears and the slope of his neck. His eyes are impossible to escape, a deep clear blue full intricacies you can’t look away from. Carmy’s just as entranced as you, drawn to you like a bear is to sweet honey. His thumb brushes your own, and you shiver, a soft jagged breath leaving you at his warm touch.

The spell is broken by the shrill of your phone, a telltale ringtone that has guilt blooming in your chest immediately. It’s Kyle.

Both of you lean away from each other quickly and you reach for your bag on the counter, fishing out your phone. “Sorry, it’s Kyle,” You glance at Carmy nervously, holding up your phone awkwardly before you answer.

He sees the heart by Kyle’s name and his own sinks into his stomach, “No, no, you’re good. All good.”

Carmy’s head feels as if it's about to burst, swirling a million miles a minute though he looks no different on the outside. Kyle? Who the fuck was Kyle? He was this out of the loop, had put so much space between the two of you that he doesn’t even know that you’re seeing someone? How long have you been together? Did you live with him? Did you…love him? Want to spend your life with him? Why would Sugar set him up like this— set you up like this, if you had someone?

He listens to you talk, the light that has been shining in his eyes from the moment you stepped into his apartment dimming with each word he hears you speak.

“Hey, honey. No, no, I’m just about to leave. Well, he didn’t start until I got here. Yes, I’ll call you when I’m home. I will. Love you too. Ok, bye.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, he just gets worried about me.”

“I’d worry about you too.” After a beat he murmurs, “I do.”

“I worry about you too,” You whisper shyly.

“Nothing to worry about here, Bee,” He struggles to keep his tone nonchalant.

The strain in his voice has you looking up at him. His eyes are cloudy, sad. He’s trying to keep it together as always and the sight has your will crumbling. You lean closer again, raising your hand to cup his cheek so that he has to meet your eye.

“You don’t have to pretend, Carmen. You know that, right?”

He swallows loudly, unable to hold your eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time. Nodding he places his hand over yours, rubbing it gently, “I know. But it’s easier that way. For all of us.”

Before you can formulate response he gives your hand one last squeeze and rises to his feet. “I’ll pack up some leftovers for you.”

And just like that, the moment is gone. That little glimpse of your Carmy is overshadowed by the one he’s become.

| > chapter 4: Like a Bee to Nectar

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