#no worries I’m okay but the apartment has been driving me insane lately

[thefatalmarksman]

*lies down* had a seizure this morning but did so many chores bc I didn’t go in to work. so tired, brain dead *lying down intensifies*

[beezusvreeland]

dear reader - chapter 2

summary: Miguel took the reader’s love and friendship for granted. Something he learns reading her column, when it’s too late…Or is it?

ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader // matt murdock x reader

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Chapter 2

Miguel has never loved having an office for himself more. It was one of those days where he didn’t seem to catch a break, being interrupted by his coworkers every five minutes. He was already distracted, but not with work. He read your last column and, as much as he tried not to, it was all he could think of during the weekend. Monday came around and the bothersome feelings just kept haunting him.

“Lyla, order a salad and six empanadas from the place downstairs”, Miguel told his assistant on the phone. “And unless the fabric of our very existence is crumbling apart, don’t let anyone bother me for the next hour or so.”

“Sure thing, boss. Do you want that weird iced hibiscus tea too?”

“No. Get me a Coke.”

“A diet one?”

“A normal one.”

Lyla was silent for a minute.

“Please don’t scream at me for making a simple question, but boss, are you okay?”

Miguel groaned. He had no idea what he was at that moment, okay didn’t seem like it, though. 

“The normal Coke gave it away?”

“Pretty much, but I’m not judging”, she answered, her usual playful tone coming through. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Absolutely not. Just get me lunch and make sure people leave me alone, that will do.”

“Geez, I was gonna give you a hard time for not saying please and thank you, but you sound terrible.”

“Lyla…”, Miguel pinched his nose, closing his eyes. “Please, just do what I asked you.” 

“Oh, this is worse than I imagined”, he heard her say before hanging up the phone.

Miguel took off his lab coat and closed the blinds of his office, laying down on his very expensive leather couch. Back when he got the new office, Alchemax let him choose between keeping the furniture of the previous room’s owner or buying some things of his own. He kept most of it, but felt that the office was still very empty. When he told you that, you suggested the couch. Miguel loved the idea, that would allow him to have more people and also more meetings there, so he wouldn’t have to make so many reservations to use the meeting rooms available at the company. It would also take some of the stress off Lyla, who he knew would go out of her way to make sure he could do his work without too many bumps on the way. She had been worried about her reputation amongst the other assistants and secretaries because of reservation fights — he might have heard something about her not getting invited to a happy hour, which made her really upset. 

You had suggested a beautiful L shaped black couch. Miguel, ever so headstrong, insisted on getting a leather brown one made by some fancy designer instead. 

“Migs, it looks great, but this is the most uncomfortable couch I've ever had the displeasure of sitting at”, you warned him. 

“Good, I don’t want those suits getting too comfortable when they come here.”

“Screw the suits, what about you? If you ever need a moment to rest? This thing might make it worse.”

“I never rest”, Miguel said proudly, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“If you say so…”

You were right, of course. You usually were and it annoyed him so much. It never felt like you were trying to influence him, rather than just helping him out. Still, Miguel was a sore loser, even when there was no competition being held. He cursed himself while trying to shift his body on the couch, the sounds of the friction between his clothes and the leather driving him insane.

Miguel spent the past days thinking about calling you to apologize for the dinner and to congratulate you on the scholarship. Guilt had been consuming him. Not only because you somehow found out he lied about not being able to get to the dinner, but because you had put so much effort in making it a special night. Even though you were the one who should be celebrated, you wanted to share that with him. Not Hobie or Pav, not even Gwen, him. He felt sick to his stomach every time he imagined you waiting for him at the restaurant, and then realizing he wouldn’t show up. 

It pained him because he remembered something you had told him years before. How once, when you were a kid, your parents held you a birthday party at McDonald’s and invited all your classmates. Only a few showed up and, by the end, when they were leaving, you heard a boy telling his mom that the party had been lame and boring. 

“Since then, I get really anxious when people are late or don’t show up without letting me know…I hate that I still feel a lot like that little girl”, you told him at one of the many bar nights your group of friends had. It was one of the rare occasions where you allowed yourself to be vulnerable and share something from your life. When he teased you about it, all you said was: “All you gotta do is ask”. 

He told himself to remember that, but obviously he forgot when it mattered the most. When Miguel realized he wouldn’t gather the courage to call you, he decided to send you a text. He drafted several versions of it, sometimes apologizing more and showing excitement about Scotland, others asking you to bring souvenirs and trying to make smart puns. As he scrolled through them on his phone, it became obvious he couldn’t send you any of those. 

Miguel opened your Instagram profile for what felt like the millionth time in the past few days, eager to see if you’d post anything about the trip. But there was nothing. 

He then went back to Bliss ’ website and searched for your column. It said that “dear reader” would be on hiatus for a couple months, while “the writer” went on her adventure. The page encouraged the readers to go back in the column archive and read previous ones. When Miguel clicked on it, the archive showed dozens of articles dating back to almost a year before. Curiosity got the best of him, so he clicked on the very first one. 

***

Dear reader, 

The idea for this column came up like many do. Girl meets boy. Girl falls for boy. Boy only sees her as a friend. This website is filled with articles and interviews talking about falling in love, taking the next step in a relationship, working on your marriage or even how to find the right lawyer for your divorce. 

It doesn’t say, however, what the hell do you do when the love you feel is unrequited. When, even doing the best you can, it seems impossible to get over them. How to move on when there are so many elements there to make you believe it could become something more and yet it never does. Or how to deal with it when unrequited is the only type of love you’ve ever known.

At this point, you might be asking yourself what kind of qualifications I have to be writing about it. Well, I’m living it. As I type this, my…let’s call him “the guy”, well, the guy is flirting with a beautiful girl. We are at a bar with our friends and I can see him from where I’m seated because he asked me to do our maneuver. Which is when he sees someone he’s interested in and asks me to approach the girl, usually complimenting her or her outfit, and then introduce her to him. 

In my defense, that started as a joke with another friend, who’s really charismatic, yet very shy. He really liked a girl that would go to the same place as us, but couldn’t bring himself to talk to her. So I did the maneuver — and it worked. They aren’t together anymore, but dated for a couple years. Seeing that, the guy asked me to do the same, and I don’t know yet how to say no to him. 

It breaks my heart every single time. Because he does seem to be too good to be true: extremely attractive (and he knows it), charming, funny, has an incredible dedication and passion for what he believes in, and owns a genius type of a brain. Girls are immediately drawn to him — myself included. 

He will wink at me, as if saying thanks, and give his undivided attention to the woman of the hour. I’ve spent too many hours to count wondering what it would be like to be one of them. What does it feel like to be loved by him, even if it’s just for a few hours. Before meeting him, I thought these kinds of things were made up from romance books and movies. Seeing it in real life made me feel less crazy, in a way. Like maybe there is hope for my hopelessly romantic heart. 

So I go back to my place, where I’m writing from right now. At first, writing was an excuse to recover my sanity after seeing him with someone without anyone else pressing me about it, but eventually that became true and writing became my lifeline. 

I suggested this column to my editor because it dawned on me that I can’t be the only one going through this. That somewhere, in this city or else, there is someone bending backwards to make someone else see them for who they really are. Someone who knows they shouldn’t, but can’t help but live for the thrill of the hope, even when most days are pure despair. 

Where do I go from here? I hope we figure that out together. And as a way to feel completely comfortable and open with you, I chose not to reveal my identity. I hope you understand. 

I will be here every week, reporting from the trenches. 

Never take advice from someone who’s falling apart.

Love, 

The writer

***

If Miguel called or texted, you had no way of knowing, because you blocked him. It felt like the only possible way to avoid rereading your text exchange or whatever he had to say. Or, most importantly, to avoid the pain of realizing that he didn’t contact you at all. You felt like you couldn’t go through that.

And you promised yourself that you would make the most of this trip and courses you were taking. Scotland was a dream, your dream. Something you worked so hard to get. And you did it. With your dedication and nights you gave up in favor of writing as much as you possibly could. Writing for work, for pleasure, to make it right by all the words and worlds that filled your insides. 

The campus of the University of Edinburgh was beautiful, the bright green from nature contrasting with the grays and light browns present in almost every single structure. Observing them made you want to know more about architecture, there was obviously so much history in those grounds. 

You entered one of the buildings, searching for the classroom assigned to you. There would be a quick presentation of the course, the rules and what to expect for the next few weeks. You were a few minutes early and, as you walked in the empty room, you chose a seat next to the window. That way you could still see the sunny exterior. 

A couple hours later, you were putting your notebook back inside your bag, when you felt someone tugging lightly at your sleeve. You look up to find a beautiful girl wearing yellow lenses glasses smiling at you. 

“Hey there”, she had an american accent, you noticed. “I’m Jessica, and you are…?

You said your name as you got up. She pointed towards a group of the students who were at the presentation hurdling next to the room’s entrance.

“We are going to what I hear is a lovely pub to drink all the pints we possibly can. Do you wanna join us?”

You laughed. You were very tired and had promised to call Gwen, Pav and Hobie to tell everything about your first day, but before you realized it, you said yes. 

“Great!”, Jessica answered. “I guess that’s it, let’s go, people!”, she shouted towards the group that started walking outside, heads laughing and discussing books you had never heard of, the air just the right amount of chilly. It was only then you realized how alive you were feeling, excitement going through your veins, making your heart beat faster. Right there, you knew that, for the first time in your life, you were at the right place at the right time. 

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dear diary playlist

[winniemaywebber]

Honeysuckle Rose • Part 6

part one part two part three part four part five

masterlist olive's playlist

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @hephaestn @manonsmanicmind @derry-rain @bobparkhurst @bloodynereid @archival-hogwash

Departing the club into the cool night air, Olive sees Val smoking outside. 

“You ready for bed, doll?” She asks, handing her the cigarette.

“Not yet, Val,” she sighs, taking a puff. “Tonight was kind of overwhelming. Need to take a walk.”

“Sure thing, Ol. See you in there, okay? Be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” she replies, kissing her friend gently on the cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, stubbing the cigarette against the wall of the club. “I had a good talk with Ev and I feel much better.” She crosses her arms in order to shield herself from the cold British air she still wasn’t quite used to. “It bites a lot more than a Brooklyn breeze,” she had told her new friend the night prior. “Bites you right on the ass, and for what?”

“This isn’t going to get easier, is it?” Olive asks, looking out into the night sky. “The worrying, the constant knot in my stomach every time I see that damn red light.” 

“No,” she says pointedly, that furrow forming. “It doesn’t. But then you see him again and the relief - God, there’s nothing like it. Someone could bottle that feeling, sell it and be a millionaire, Olive.” 

“I didn’t plan on feeling like this…for anyone. Here or–” She stops herself before going too far.

“That’s what this war does, doll. Messes up every plan.” She picks her body up from the wall and starts to walk towards their hut. “That’s a story for another night, though. You still taking that walk?” Olive nods, knowing she has to go home at some point to check on Pearl, despite the thought tearing her apart. What if every time she leaves is a potential goodbye? The idea of that is like a punch to the gut, sending her head spinning. 

“I’ll leave water on your table. Prevent the hangover.”

“Thanks, Val. Wait, where’s Helen?”

“Curt offered to walk her home,” she says, rolling her eyes. 

“Oop,” Olive giggles. “Curt suddenly keen on our girl?”

“Yes, but she’s not keen on him like that. She’s smart, and wholesome. A respectable young lady. Far too sweet for that pain in the ass. Besides,” she pauses. “She’d never live it down with us if she got the clap from him.”

—

Walking as quickly as possible to the hardstand, Olive breathlessly makes it to Just A-Snappin. Taking one last glance around to make sure nobody is looking, she opens the door as silently as possible.

“Hey, Ol,” Kenny says, startling her. “Whatcha doin’ all the way out here? It’s late. Don’t ya have an early start?”

“I–I do, uhm–” Her heart beating in her chest at a million miles an hour, willing him to turn around and get back to whatever he was working on. “Kenny, I need to get home,” she says simply. Kenny shakes his head in confusion, pointing towards the Red Cross hut.

“Thatta way, friend. You okay? I can walk ya.”

“N-no, Kenny,” she points into the aircraft, knowing she’s been caught out. “This is my way home.”

“I’m not followin’,” he responds, astounded. “Ya live here, with all of us. Where are ya–”

“80 years away.”

“How much did you drink?” He asks, his tone suddenly stern and serious. “Olive, you’re scarin’ me, girl.”

“Not that much, Ken. Remember what Tat said the other day, how I just seemingly appeared out of thin air?”

“Yeah?”

“Well…she was correct. I opened a door in my time and, when it opened, I fell here.”

“What in the–”

“You don’t have to believe me, Ken. I know it all sounds absolutely insane, and honestly, I’m having a hard time grasping it, too. But when I’m here, I feel like I belong and it’s as if all the pieces of my life suddenly fit together. But, I have to go home and check on my grandma. You’ll open that door in two minutes and I’ll be gone. Do you understand?”

“Olive, this is crazy talk. Let me drive you to the infirmary. I think someone’s slipped ya somethin’, y’know, in your drink.”

“Kenny…I promise, I’m telling you the truth. What’s gonna make you believe me?”

“I dunno, Ol, I’m just so–” he sighs. “Bring something back with ya, something from wherever it is you’re from. A gadget of some kind, anything.” 

“I got it. Don’t tell anyone else, okay? I’m not ready for people to know yet.”

“Cross ma heart. You strange Brit.” He pauses, deep in thought. “Don’t suppose you can tell me who wins the World Series in ten years?”

“Kenny, I believe that’s not allowed. Not really clear on the rules of time travel but I think that’s the type of stuff that gets the privilege taken from you.”

“Well, darn.”

“I thought you’d be more interested in knowing who wins all this.”

“Nah, I want that to be a surprise. Want a boost?”

“Are you humoring me, Ken Lemmons?”

“Yes, I am. Cos this is insane.”

“Oh, I know. Go on then, give me a hand. My abdomen is shot from clambering up by myself.”

“So, see you–when?”

“Well, later, I guess. Haven’t quite worked out the maths yet.”

“Why the hell do y’all add the S?”

“Goodnight, Ken!” The door slams, and the last sound she hears as it’s shut is the sound of Kenny’s laughter. 

—

The second Joan hears the gate click outside of Pearl’s house, she’s out the door like a shot.

“Joan?” Olive says, confused at the rush. “Everything okay?”

“She’s in a foul mood today, Olive. Tread carefully.”

“For fuck sake,” she says, under her breath. Entering the house, she can feel the tension from the hallway.

“Grandma?” She calls, placing her patent shoes by the door. Just this moment realizing she’s still in her Red Cross gear, she works on formulating an explanation.

“And where have you been, missy?”

“Work?”

“Don’t get smart with me, young lady. You’re not old enough to have a job. And where is that mother of yours? She was meant to take me shopping today.”

“Oh, shit. Grandma, sit down.” She guides her to her armchair, sitting in front of her as quickly as she can. “Grandma, look at me. Mum isn’t here, remember? She–” Olive feels the words stuck in her throat, this being the first time in a long, long time that Pearl has had a moment like this. “She and Ian moved to South Africa. For his job, do you remember? Then I left London to come be with you.”

“In London? Alone? Why would they let you do that, chicken? You’re only fourteen.”

“Pearl, I’m twenty-five now. Remember, you sent me a card? It had butterflies on it, pink butterflies and flowers.”

“No, Olive. No, no, no,” she yells, swiping everything off her side table in a rage. Grabbing her arm as gently as possible, Olive tries to get Pearl to calm down.

“Grandma, please! Getting this het up won’t help things. Please, Pearl.” Her eyes suddenly glaze over, a deep breath leaving her chest, her free hand suddenly clung to Olive.

“Hello, chicken. When did you come home?”

“J-just a minute ago,” Olive stutters, trying to bring her nerves back to their regular setting. “Joan went home, said you were in quite the mood today.”

“Well, what about?”

“M-maybe you woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” she winces, teeth gritted almost comically. 

“Oh, bloody hell,” she droops, chin on her chest. “Did it happen again?”

“Yeah, girly. It did.”

“Was it a bad one?”

“Eh, not the worst I’ve seen. Joan may have over exaggerated a little as she ran down the lane all jangly.”

“That explains why she stopped bringing me biscuits with my tea.”

“You want another? I’m sure we’ve got some Jammie Dodgers snaffled away somewhere.”

“You’re a good girl, Olive. My Ollie Pop.” She strokes her granddaughter’s hand, wiping a tear away with her free one. “I friggin’ hate this. This getting old nonsense.”

“I know, Pearly.”

“This costume is different. They change your job?”

“Oh!” Olive says, looking down at herself. “Turns out I’m much more suited to serving coffee and donuts than raking hay. I prefer it, too.”

“Then I shall live vicariously through you, my girl.” She pauses for a second. “You know, looking like you do right now, it’s like you just jumped here from the war.”

“Pearly, you don’t know the half of it.”

—

“Goodnight, Grandma,” she murmurs, stroking Pearl’s head as she drifts off to sleep, the same way she’d soothe Olive after a nightmare years ago. She pulls the blankets over her swollen legs, the veins more obvious than ever before. Her hands, beginning to droop with arthritis are clasped together under her face, her face a picture of total contentment. 

Olive smiles at the sight, willing her to be able to somehow live forever. As she exits the bedroom, she hears the front door open with a soft click. 

“Jesus, Kyle!” She gasps, shocked to the bone for the second time that day. “Fucking knock next time.”

“Thought I’d surprise you.”

“And what if I wasn’t here, dickhead? You’d have given a poor old woman a heart attack.”

“Well, if my grandma’s home then I’m going to assume you’re here, so…fuck sake, Olive, I just wanted to show up and maybe–”

“Maybe what?”

“Talk? I’ve been so lonely without you and–”

“Oh, don’t bloody start all that. It’s late and I need to sleep.”

“It’s only seven. Look, I brought your favorite,” he holds out a bottle of rose wine, the logo all too familiar to Olive.

“Haven’t drank that in years. Not since–” she stops herself, not wanting to relive the memory of the bile crawling up her throat when she’d drunkenly found Kyle and her best friend in bed together. “Gives me heartburn.”

“Please, let me explain.”

“It’s been five years, Kyle. I can promise you, I’m over it. I haven’t given it a second thought up until I saw you on the train. Not seeing you helped me forget.”

“I just want you to forgive me,” he whimpers, his face crumpling. 

“Would that make you go home?” He steps towards her, now holding her against the wall as he places the bottle on the side table of the hallway. His arms cage her in, his nose coming to touch hers. “Yes. That, and some alone time with you.” Feeling her whole body cringe at the thought of someone else that close to her that isn’t the man she desires, she feels her body seize up before fight or flight kicks in. 

“Fuck off, Kyle,” she yells, pushing him away with such force that it winds him. “Now get out.”

“Fine,” he yells, but relenting. “Bitch.”

“Oh, no, how ever will I live with that on my shoulders,” she says, slamming the door behind him. Covering her face with her hands, she weeps, wishing the night away so she can rush back to where she belongs. Home, with her friends.

—

“Teach your grandson to knock before he enters people’s houses, please, Joan,” Olive says flatly as she enters for the day. She stares back, blinking wildly, utterly flabbergasted.

“He didn’t, did he? He said he’d phone you first.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t invite people over without us talking about it first. I received no such phone call, no notice whatsoever. If he pulls this again, I’ll be calling the police.”

“I-I understand. But, Olive, if you’d just hear him out.”

“No, thank you,” she says, putting her shoes on and tucking her phone into her pocket. “Pearl is still sleeping. Yesterday was rough for her so she may sleep in a little. Let her. Do not tell her about last night. I don’t want to worry her.”

“Yes, of course. Bye, Olive,” she tries to say as cheerfully as possible, a smile plastered on her face. Olive closes the door behind her with a slam, just ready for a new day with the people she was growing to care about most, besides Pearl. Practically running down the lane, Thorpe Abbotts in her line of sight, she hopes she is early enough to not see anyone else. Exactly as she expected, she sees a side gate open with no human presence. Creeping in so as to not attract attention, she sees the aircraft door open already. Scolding herself for leaving it like that, she hoists herself in and slams it shut. Clamping her eyes shut and taking that big deep breath, she feels the scenery change, the sun only just beginning to rise. 

Jumping from the plane, she sees Kenny stood, waiting. 

“How did I do?”

“I lost track of time. What d’ya got?” 

Olive buries her hand in her pocket and pulls out her phone. “This is a phone, Ken.”

“No, it ain’t. It ain’t got all them wires and cords and no way to hold it.” Olive unlocks it in Ken’s hand, him almost dropping it in surprise.

“Christ, Lemmons, be careful. This thing cost me an arm and a leg.”

“I’ll bet. Wait, what’s this button do?”

“That, is a camera.”

“Get outta here, Olive.”

“Seriously. Look.” She opens the app, tapping the arrow to put it into selfie mode. “Look, there’s you.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he says, admiring himself in it. “I look good this mornin’. I know my sweetheart would eat it up.”

“I’m sure she would, Ken,” she says, as he hands the phone back to her and clasps the heart shaped locket that dangles around his neck. “So, you comfortable with being the secret keeper?”

“Sure, I ain’t gonna tell nobody. A cold beer brought out here every now and then buys my silence.”

“You’re on.”

—

Creeping into the hut carefully, she luckily finds her two friends in a deep slumber. Helen, snoring softly in one bed and Val twitching a little as she dreams in another. “Hmm…” she purrs as she turns over. “That's nice, Ev.” Olive stifles a giggle as she sits on her bed, pulling The Tempest from the shelf behind her. Gulping the water Val had left out for her and smoking her first cigarette of the day, she begins to read her favorite passage. 

“...As I foretold you, were all spirits and

Are melted into air, into thin air;

And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,

The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,

And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff 

As dreams are made on: and our little life 

Is rounded with a sleep.”

—

Olive sees the boys strolling past the Clubmobile on their way to the morning briefing, as she and the girls set up for the day, filling carafes of coffee, setting donuts out on their tray with napkins sitting pretty next to them. Val was busy arranging the candy bars, them stacked upon each other in piles of threes so they didn’t topple over. Helen was counting paper cups, ensuring there would be enough for the first round of airmen to visit them. 

“Ol,” Val calls, her head buried in the newest issue of Screen Romances, momentarily pausing to alert her friend of the pilot and his dog coming towards the truck. “Benny.” She nods, wiping her hands upon her jumpsuit to clear them of any sugary dust or coffee grounds.

“Morning, Benny! Morning, goodest boy! How are we today?”

“Good, thanks, Ol. You?”

“Wonderful as always. D’you need me to watch the fella?”

“It’s what I was coming over to ask. That, and a sneaky early cup of coffee.”

“You’ll get yours at the same time as everyone else, DeMarco. Can’t have people accusing me of playing favorites; you might get me in trouble,” she replies with a wink.

“Wouldn’t want that now, would I?” He replies with a smile, handing the leash over to Olive. “Be good now, yeah? No tearing up boxes, no biting Ms Tattie’s ankles.” He strokes the dog, making a kissy face at him as the dog licks his face just once. “That goes for you, as well, Miss Olive.” 

“Me?” She replies, her hand on her chest in pretend shock. “I am always a delight, thank you very much!”

“That you are. See you after.”

Olive loosely ties Meatball’s leash around a pole that sits next to the Clubmobile, him panting excitedly as she does so, followed by a look of disappointment on his sweet face when he realizes he's not here for playtime. 

“Oh, don't give me that, poppet. We'll go find Kenny and Winks later, yeah? Maybe we'll play here a little while your guy is occupied, ‘kay?”

With a pat on his soft body, she starts to make her way back up the steps of the truck when she feels two hands tickle her waist, making her jump.

“James Douglass!” she squeals, turning around and pretending to clout him as he laughs loudly. “I almost jumped out of my damn skin!” Her eyebrows begin to furrow, her mouth beginning to form into a small pout.

“Hmm, me too,” he replies, his voice soft and his breath closer to her cheek. “How is it you look this good every morning?”

“Hey, now. I’m sorry. I was just messin’. I’m sorry, honey,” he pouts right back, kissing her cheek. “How’s my girl this morning?”

“Good. Better for seeing you,” she says, looking up at him a little seductively. 

“Magic,” she replies, winking. “It's called mascara and rouge. I look like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards when I first wake up - not a pretty sight.”

“I'd love to be the judge of that,” he replies, blushing just a little at the thought of them spending a morning together. “I gotta go. Don’t wanna be late.”

“Yes, go,” she urges, her hand on his face. She stares at him intently, her attention turning to his best features. “You have such pretty eyes, James,” she breathes, her thumb caressing his cheek. 

“Not as pretty as yours,” he winks, two fingers under her chin. Pressing a kiss to her palm as he takes it from his face, he begins to walk away. “I’ll be back for my coffee, pretty thing.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

—

Meatball starts to get antsy the same minute the briefing starts in the opposing building, his lead clanging on the pole it is tied to as he tries to escape, huffing at every unsuccessful attempt to break free.

“Come on, fella,” Olive laughs, untying him once her morning tasks are complete. “Wanna throw a ball?” He pants in response, practically about to stand on his hind paws as he sees the ball emerge from Olive’s pocket. She throws it gently, floppy at the wrist so it stays within range and Meatball can't suddenly dart away. 

“Why don't you go over to the hardstand?” Val calls from the window of the Clubmobile, waiting for the fresh coffee to brew in time for the boys leaving their briefing. 

“I don’t wanna have to traipse all the way there to then come all the way back in ten minutes. I wanna see them before they go.”

“Anyone in particular you wanna see?”

“Hush it up, DiRosano,” she winks, handing her the ball as she joins them.

“At least he’s behaving today,” Val says as she takes the ball from Olive. She throws it a little harder than she means to, the ball not hitting the ground until it flies through the door of the briefing room. Meatball goes after it like a shot out of a cannon, not listening to the girls’ pleas to come back and stop. “Shit!” Val says, trying not to panic. 

“Fuck sake, Spud Chandler!” Olive sighs, hand clapping over her eyes.

They come to a halt as they enter, Val slamming into the back of Olive as she spots Meatball right outside the door to the briefing room, sat and waiting patiently for his next command. “Stay right there, buddy,” Olive pleads, hands up and walking towards him. He begins sniffing the air, somehow pinpointing the smell of his owner among the other hundred or so men, and takes off like a shot. 

“Meatball!” Olive says, her voice low and stern as she tries to creep into the room.

Val sighs, her shoulders sagging, rubbing the space between her eyebrows where her famous frown usually sits. “We should be alright, you know. It’s nothing I wouldn’t tell you in a few weeks anyway, when I’m typing the report for this. We get the dog, apologize, and get the hell outta there, got it?”

“Olive, fuck sake, girlie. Don’t go in there!”

“But the dog! And the ball!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Show me your prettiest smile.” She does as she's told, her cheeks growing pink with the effort and confusion. 

“Gorgeous, doll.”

“What’s it for?” Olive asks, relaxing her face and massaging her cheeks for a second.

“Oh, that’s for when Chicky tells us off and we need to sweeten him up when he catches us in the next few minutes.” 

—

“U-Boat pens in Trondheim, Norway!” Chick announces, standing upon a makeshift stage as the men in front of him cheer and whoop. Blakely and his crew are announced to be leading the squadron, Val’s cheeks turning pink and beaming with pride. “That’s my guy!” She whispers, her hands clasped together. A silence falls in the room, Chicky’s eyes squinting as he lights a cigar.

“Now, what in the hell is that dog doin’ in here?”

“Shit,” Olive and Val murmur in unison. “Might need that smile sooner than we thought, doll.”

“Fuck sake, Valencia,” Olive replies, shaking her head.

“Don’t blame me!” She chuckles. “Blame that darn dog.”

“Oh, I am, believe me.”

“I don’t care,” he says, his voice slightly raised and causing the crowd to look in their direction. “Get outta here.”

“Girls!” Chick scolds, walking up to them. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

“We’re sorry, Colonel,” Olive says, putting her nice British manners to good use. “The dog…”

“Yes, sir,” she replies, her lip almost quivering as her body tenses up at the confrontation.

“Chicky,” Val pleads, seeing Olive’s eyes glaze over slightly at his tone. “I threw the ball too hard, the dog ran after it, we came to find it and ended up in here. You know we wouldn’t have come in if it wasn’t urgent.” She’s really buttering him up, tucking her hair behind her ear and blinking her lovely long lashes at him. Olive smiles keenly by her side, trying to contain the fit of giggles that’s dying to burst out of her after she's blinked the tears away.

“Alright, girls,” he softens, pointing his cigar in their direction as Red describes something beaming out of the projector to get the attention of the men back where it needs to be. “I’ll let y’all off, just this once. But don’t let me catch you in here again.”

“You got it, Chicky.”

— 

“And stop calling me Chicky.”

“Nope! Come on, Meatball!” Val says, pushing Olive out of the room in a hurry as she begins to collapse in a heap of laughter, Meatball following along behind and barking at the girls’ giggles.

Everett Blakely stands at the door of the Clubmobile, hands on his hips, looking extremely pissed off. “Val? You got a sec?”

“Yes, honey,” she says sweetly, rolling her eyes at Olive as she passes her. “I’m in trouble.”

“You look far too excited at that prospect, Val.”

“Never know what the consequences will be,” she winks as she reaches the bottom step. Olive and Helen giggle cheekily at her comment, Olive breathing deeply as she sees no sign of James or Benny, telling herself she's off the hook for her second scolding of the day. The relief washes away instantly as she sees James in the same position as Ev was a second ago, his expression more anxious and upset than annoyed.

“C’mere,” he beckons with his head. She obliges, descending the three steps of the truck. “What were you doing in there?”

“Oh, the dog ran in there after Val, baseball superstar here, threw the ball a little too hard,” she says airily, a comedic tone to her voice.

“No, doll. We’d have kept the dog until it was all done.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes, Olive. You shouldn’t have been in there.”

“Are you mad at me or something?” She narrows her eyes at him, trying to gauge his expression. “I just thought it was the right thing to do. I didn’t mean to cause a disturbance, I just wanted to–”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Don’t care, Ol. I wanna protect you, okay?”

“If it ever happens again, you grab the dog, you get out, or we watch the dog and bring him back. I don’t want you hearing all of that.” His hand goes into her hair, his fingers raking through it as he sighs. “I don’t want you hearing things and getting upset, okay?” he breaks eye contact, his eyes now on the ground. “I hate the thought of makin’ you sad, Ol. Breaks my heart.”

“Hey,” she soothes, getting him to look up at her again by lifting his chin. “I’m a tough girl,” she shrugs, their eyes finally meeting. 

“Mhm,” she nods in reply, her stomach full of butterflies with the softness and sweetness of it all. “You want a coffee?”

“Bubbles!” They hear, their heads turning towards Val. “You can't fly!”

“Yes, please, beautiful. Don’t need sugar.”

“Sweet enough on you,” they say together.

Olive peeks around the corner to see Joseph Payne, huddled under a blanket and shaking, sweating a fever out. 

“She's right,” Olive gasps after seeing his damp face. “You cannot fly in this state.”

“I'll be fine, I promise!” 

Olive shakes her head in protest, shuffling around in her full pockets before pulling out a stick of gum. 

“I know you don't want anything right now, but this,” she opens the foil, handing him the green colored gum, “is peppermint. It'll help with the nausea.”

“Never heard'a that,” he says weakly, a hand out of the makeshift blanket hood. He takes the gum and bites off a little, chewing slowly. “Thank ya, ma'am.”

“No trouble, Bubbles!”

—

Tedious hours pass after hearing the rumble of the aircraft as they ascend into the expansive blue sky. It was a cloudless day, the sun beaming down on the base, Olive breathing in the scent of the warm countryside. She holds two donuts in one hand, Meatball’s leash in the other, holding the donuts meant for Kenny and Winks as far as she can out of Meatball's greedy little grasp.

“It smells different here,” she thinks out loud, while removing the leash from the dog as he walks slowly. “Nothing specific, just different.” Meatball stops and stares back at her, his eyes shining in the bright sun as if he is listening to her intently as they begin walking together again. 

“Still wondering why you brought me here, fella.” His head turns to the side, his tongue wagging. Olive isn't sure if it's a trick of the light, but she is almost certain he winks at her. “What are you not telling me? It was all meant to be, wasn't it? Destiny.” She smiles as they approach the crew chiefs, Winks waving as he sees them a small distance away.

“Hey, buddy!” Ken yells as he sees Meatball, placing his tools down quickly. 

“Hey,” Olive says, handing him his donut. 

“For me? You're a gem.”

“Of course. Bribing you into silence is kind of fun, really.” She gestures to Winks who, instead of eating the donut, breaks it into pieces for the dog.

“Why don't ya just tell em? They're your friends,” Kenny says, turning back to Olive, his mouth speckled with sugar.

“What if they don't believe me?” She sighs, pulling the baseball from her pocket. 

“They might.”

“Or,” she pauses, eyebrows raised. “They won't, and I lose the only people that make life make sense.”

“You told me!”

“You caught me and I can't lie that fast.” 

He laughs, wiping his mouth before quickly licking the remaining sugar from his lips. “You need me to watch the fella?”

“Please. He's being pretty good today, but you know how nervous us girls get on a mission day.”

“I hear ya. I'll give him to Demarco after interrogation.”

“Or just have him run back to me when you're had enough. Either way,” she shrugs, petting Meatball before she intends to depart. 

“Got it. Here, thanks for the donut.”

“You're welcome, Ken.”

“Oh, and tell em. Tell the girls. They'll believe you.” 

—

“Valencia,” Olive urges, a plume of smoke falling from her mouth as she speaks, watching her friend scrub the same counter for the third time in ten minutes. “You’ve already done that one.”

“R-right,” she stutters, wiping her wet hands on her jumpsuit. Olive stubs out the cigarette and starts carrying donuts into the interrogation room, Val darting toward her to grab them. 

“I got it, Val,” she coos, holding the tray to her body. “Just get the door for me.”

“Got it,” she replies, her voice a couple of octaves higher than what Olive is used to hearing.

“You okay, chicken?”

“Yeah. Just anxious.”

“I know. But they'll be okay. They'll be back before you know it.” Olive enters the room and sets down the donuts on their table, Tattie wandering in after them.

“Oh, thanks, Ol,” she says, patting her on the shoulder. “Val, mind setting out the whiskey?”

“Sure, I'm on it,” she replies, the words rushing out of her mouth, her body tight with the same anxiety they all see in Harry Crosby on the daily. 

“Need a hand?” Helen strolls in, setting cream and sugar next to the coffee she had put out earlier. 

“Nope, I've got it.” As Val picks up a glass to quickly wipe it clean of a smear that was missed, a familiar, loud rumble sounds overhead. Olive steps outside momentarily, hearing Doc shout. “I see em!” he yells, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

“Val, they're here,” Olive urges, walking towards her. Val stops suddenly, the glass slipping from her hands and smashing into pieces on the floor.

“Ah, fuck,” she groans, bending down to begin picking up the shards.

“Leave it, doll,” Olive soothes. “I'll get that.” Taking the cloth from Val’s hand, she grips her arm for a moment. 

“Go,” she murmurs. “Go see him.”

“Thanks, Ol,” she breathes out, her whole chest falling as she does so. 

“Helen, go with her, please. Just in case.” 

“Sure. What about you?”

“I'm fine here,” she reassures her, her eyes definitely telling a different story. Not wanting to press, Helen nods, threading her arm through Val’s. 

“We'll be right back, okay?”

—

“Welcome back, boys,” Doc Stover says in his deep, almost hoarse voice, the words mostly getting caught behind the pipe that's in his mouth. “C'mere, let me see that,” he says, taking a look at a gunner's hand that's cut deeply, the gash covered and the blood staunched by a rushed wrapped bandage. “Not too bad. Go to the infirmary after interrogation.”

“Yes, sir,” the man quietly replies, looking toward Olive. 

“Coffee? Something stronger?” He nods, grabbing one of glasses of whiskey from the adjacent table, nodding at her in thanks. 

“Olive,” she hears as her back is turned, exchanging pleasantries with Gale Cleven. He's in the middle of shaking his head at the whiskey table as he picks up a coffee mug, gesturing behind her as he takes a sip. She turns, eyes sparkling with her winning smile on her face. 

“Benny,” she grins, handing him both a coffee and a whiskey. “Glad to have you back.”

“Same. Where's the boy?”

“Oh, he's with Kenny and Winks. Dropped him off a while ago. We had so much to do here and he needed the exercise.”

“Hey, it's fine. I trust you all to take care of my dog, no matter where I end up.” He takes the whiskey in one gulp, chasing it with the coffee Olive prepared for him. “I swear you've got the magic touch. It's perfect every time.” She giggles, a little bashfully as he makes his way into the interrogation room. Breath caught in her throat, she stares at the door, longing for Dougie to appear. Instead, it's Ev and Val, hand in hand, Val’s face a little pale and her eyes without their usual keen sparkle. 

“Val?” Olive begins, making her way around the table to take her from Blakely. He breathes out in some kind of relief, grabbing two whiskies from the table and handing one to Val. “Valencia, what is it?”

“Curt's fort got hit with a shitload of flack,” Ev speaks, taking the shot of whiskey before resuming to talk. “Engines failing, pulling to the right, few fires. Cleven wanted us to stay with him. Egan and I had Croz navigate us somewhere safe, in case Biddick had to land.”

“In case?”

“We think he made a crash landing in Scotland.” 

Val's eyes begin to fill with tears as she whimpers softly, clutching the whiskey glass so tightly that it could shatter into splinters within seconds. Olive gently takes it from her hand, her arm now around her shoulders as Ev is ushered into the interrogation room by Chick. “I've got her,” Olive says as he walks backwards, making sure his girl is taken care of. 

“Dougie’s coming,” Ev says before walking into the room. Olive feels a giant breath fall out of her, her chest almost crumbling with the weight of it. She walks Val outside, lighting her a cigarette as they reach the truck.

Holding Val’s head to her shoulder, Olive soothes her as she softly weeps in worry. “Nobody's heard anything,” she sniffs, taking the glass of whiskey from Olive and knocking it back, wincing at the burning alcohol coursing through her body, taking two large drags of the smoke before offering it to Olive who shakes her head in refusal.

“It'll be okay, chicken. You know Ev would've kept him safe, would've had Croz make sure he was safe. He wouldn't pretend to make himself look valiant.”

“I know. They just didn't see him land,” she says, weeping fresh tears. Olive shushes her softly, hand in her hair in comfort.

She sees a figure walking by, head down and shoulders sagging slightly, until they make eye contact. James makes a beeline for Olive, rushing toward her. He kisses her on the cheek, his hand going through her hair quickly. His other hand is on Val's back, his voice etched with concern. 

“You okay?” 

Val shakes her head, wrapping herself around Olive as she finally weeps.

“She'll get there,” Olive softly replies. “I think once she's heard he's safe, she'll be alright. I've got her.”

“That's good, doll. I’d better–”

“Yeah, you're already straggling behind.”

“Wanted to see you,” he winks, planting a clumsy kiss on her forehead and placing his half smoked cigarette in her mouth. “See ya later.” 

—

“Cleven! Phone!” Red calls from across the crowded club, the girls sat around their table, comforting Valencia the best they could - she's on her fifth French 75, Ev bringing a new one every time he spots an empty glass in front of her. He's at the bar when he rushes back empty handed, patting his lady on the shoulder.

“Curt!” Cleven booms, Bucky Egan eavesdropping by his side. “Where are ya?” Val stands up at the mention of his name, the chair falling and clattering behind her as she begins to rush over. Blakely grabs her hand and leads her to where the pair are frantically yelling down the phone with huge grins on their faces. 

“Gonna be cold tonight, Curt!” Egan yells as he spots Everett, gesturing for Buck to hand the phone to Val, stopping his friend from slamming the receiver down.

A huge smile appears on her face, one that has her eyes crinkling in glee, her features softening in an instant as she relaxes at the sound of her best friend's  voice. Olive smiles just as big at the sight of it, Ev planting a kiss on her temple before she places the phone into its cradle, quickly hugging the two Bucks. 

“Well?!” Helen asks, her eyes wide as the couple venture back to the table.

“He's in Scotland,” Val laughs, her arm thrown around Ev’s shoulders. “Says the people are looking after them real well. Anyway, let's celebrate!” She picks up her empty glass and raises it. “Here's to another day of Curt Biddick bein’ a pain in my ass!” She cackles, everyone else raising their glass along with her. 

“The pain in your ass!”

—

“Bike race in the Mess Hall! Who's in?!”

“I'm in…me!...me, too!” A crowd of voices call as all the men within the club descend from the bar to the adjoining mess hall, Val dragging Helen and Olive with each hand. The girls, a giggling heap run hand in hand through the building to find a good viewing spot, their faces hot and red from the celebratory alcohol consumption, the running and continuous laughter. Val hadn't seemed to feel the effects of all the booze until she'd heard Curt was safe, slowly relaxing as the night went on; five French 75's had become seven, Blakely looking on with a smile as she smothered him in kisses. 

Olive, a few cocktails past her usual limit, leans against a wall and starts to light a cigarette. Her hand is moved for her, a zippo flame in her face. James lights it for her with a wink, which she cheekily reciprocates as he clambers back to the crowd.

“Hey, Demarco!” Dougie yells from a few rows behind, straddling the bike. “Whoever wins walks the pretty girl home,” he says, pointing at Olive who feels her face flush red in embarrassment. 

“Jesus Christ,” she shakes her head, handing her lighter to Tattie.

“Oh, you're on, Douglass.”

“Croz!” Dougie shouts as the men begin playfully shoving at one another, Croz struggling to get his feet on the pedals and stumbling slightly. “Give me a push so I can get ahead of Benny!”

“I'm not doin’ that, Doug,” he laughs, feet finally finding balance. “Besides, she's a nice girl. I may want to walk her home myself.”

“You're married!”

“A married guy can't have friends? She has better conversation skills than you mutts!” 

“Rank has its privileges, boys!” says Cleven as he pushes through the crowd to the front, taking a position next to Brady. Hot on his tail, is of course, Egan, the two rarely ever separate. 

“I see money changing hands,” he points into the sidelines. “That better be going on me!”

“Alright! Y'all ready?!” A cheer erupts from the crowd as Graham gives the men their route, holding a pistol in the air. He shoots it once, followed by a “yeehaw!” The girls cheer so enthusiastically that they feel their vocal chords strain and their throats begin to scratch, but they simply don't care. Fists pumping, jumping up and down like crazy and yelling “Go on! Get em!” Even Tattie joins in, glugging a beer and cheering along with her girls, finally comfortable to be herself in front of Olive.

“Come on, Egan, ya lard ass!”

 Cleven is in the lead, Egan not far behind him when the boys start to make their second lap, Cleven toppling off his bike, followed by Egan, starting a hilarious domino effect as all the men dive into the ever-growing pile of cycles when a shrill noise echoes through the building. Kidd, peeling himself off the wall, begins to yell. “Stop!” He shouts, waiting for the noise to cease. It doesn't, his body on high alert, that sour face back once again after its momentary reprieve. Remembering Val’s words at the sight of him, Olive giggles. 

“Fella looks like he's  got a bug permanently up his ass.”

“Get to the shelters!”

Helen gestures for Olive to grab her drink and holds out her hand. She takes it and they begin to run to the nearest air raid shelter as they see Val and Ev running in an opposite direction, giggling in glee.

—

“Who got further then, Ol?” Helen titters, head on Olive's shoulder as she drains the final sip of her rum and coke as they both see the sky above them light up every few seconds. 

“Benny,” she says, almost sighing.

“Are you disappointed?”

“No! Not disappointed,” she says, rolling her eyes at Helen.

“Olive,” she says a little sternly, eyes narrowing, slightly bloodshot from the rum. “I think you know what you want now.”

“But is it because I'm shit faced?” Olive laughs, feeling Helen's arm wrapping around her waist. 

“I think you'd give me the same answer if you were sober, doll. You've gotta tell him. Tell him tonight.”

“I will.”

“Pinky swear?” She holds her pinky finger out, and Olive hooks hers on to it immediately. 

“Where did the lovers get to?” Helen asks as they break away from one another.

“I saw them running back toward the mess hall, so God knows.”

“God knows, we know, Tattie can absolutely not know.” They both giggle, hands covering their mouths to try to stifle it, not wanting to disturb the silence in the shelter. 

“We'll cover for her!” Olive says, wiping tears from her eyes from the effort of trying to keep the giggles in. “That's what we're here for isn't it?” 

“It sure is, Ol.”

—

Exiting the shelter and patting Cleven on the back as he catches sight of Olive, Benny makes his way over to her, guiding Meatball without a lead.

“Ready, Ol?”

“Sure am. The booze wore off after the first hour sat in there and it’s made me extremely sleepy.”

“Meatball seems to be ready to get outside, too. Didn’t expect to be in there so long and he was getting restless.”

“I can imagine. Ten minutes tied to that pole outside of our little Clubmobile and he’s going crazy.” They begin to walk, Benny offering Olive his arm.

“Taking the dog to do his business while taking the lady home, Benny?” Dougie says, cheeky smile on his face. “Very romantic.”

“Shut it, Douglass,” he bites back, winking to show him he’s joking.

—

“I’m just being a sore loser, I guess,” he replies, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “My turn tomorrow though, alright?”

“Deal,” she swoons, trying her best to hide the heart eyes she’s giving him.

The pair converse casually as they walk arm in arm, Meatball a few paces in front of them, stopping to sniff at whatever catches his fancy every few steps. It makes for a slow walk from the club to the hut, but Olive doesn’t mind. It’s a nice evening, the cold air less biting than the previous night - instead, a warmer breeze sweeps through the base, bringing up the smell of the honeysuckle that grows in the village gardens. 

“What’s up?” She asks, nervously, hoping Ken hasn’t ratted her out already. She feels sweat trickle down her back and tension rise up in her throat as Benny takes a deep breath.

“Thanks for walking me back, Benny,” she says as they reach the door of the hut. “I appreciate it, as always.”

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he says, taking the two paces that separate them.

“I know when to bow out.”

“I see how Douglass looks at you,” he begins, his shoulders rising and falling. “And I see how you look at him.”

“Benny,” she pleads, her brow furrowing in guilt. 

“Friends?” She asks, holding her hand out.

“I’m sorry,” she continues. “I didn’t intend for this to happen. Especially this. I really like you, Benny. You’re a sweet, wonderful guy and any woman would be lucky to have you. I’m not afraid to say that I don’t feel safe around many men - but with you? I feel very safe.”

“Thanks, Ol. That means a lot.”

“Best friends, Olive. Always.” He pulls her into a hug, the pair of them clinging to one another and smiling. 

“I meant what I said, doll,” she says into his shoulder. “Anyone will be lucky to have you. I hope I’m there to see it.” They break apart and smile at one another, both finally relaxed.

“Oh, you will be. We won’t be rid of each other that easily, girl. You, me and him,” he says, gesturing to Meatball who is sitting next to Olive’s feet, tail wagging in giddiness at seeing his people together. “We’re a team. And we take care of each other. I’ll always be around for you, y’know.”

A figure skulks a few paces behind Benny, coming into the light as he departs. Olive doesn’t see the dumbfounded look on his face as she spots him.

“Me, too.”

“Also, I’m glad you chose Dougie.”

“Why?”

“You’re beginning to feel more like a sister than a potential girlfriend, and I’d have been too nice to say no.”

“You cheeky fucker,” she teases, shoving him. She opens her arms to him again, kissing him on the cheek. “Goodnight, Benny.”

“Goodnight, Ol. See you in the morning.” He returns the kiss, winking at her as they break apart again. “C’mon, pal,” he says to Meatball. “Let’s get to bed.”

“Jesus, Olive. I thought you liked me. You made me believe you liked me.”

“Dougie!” She greets joyously, walking up to him, ready to throw her arms around him guilt free. “Hi, honey.”

“Don’t honey me,” he seethes, walking away the second she comes close to him. “I didn’t mean to disturb.”

“You didn’t disturb anything, my love,” she soothes, trying to grab his hand. 

“I do?!” she urges, her eyes narrowing at him in confusion. “Oh, that?” She says, realizing what he’s seen. “Dougie, we were talking and–”

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Olive. From now on, leave me the hell alone.”“If you’d just let me explain,” she pleads, her eyes filling with tears. He walks away, not once looking back. Olive feels her heart racing in a panic and feels her face crumple at the sight of him leaving. Her breath caught in her throat, tears spilling down her cheeks, she struggles to shout for him, the effort of it straining her body.

“Dougie! James, please don’t go! James!”

[elliesbelle]

belle what the fuck happened??? are you okay???

long story short (prob won’t be short, knowing me oops):

tw: drug overdose, suicide, hospitalization mentions

work has been one of the biggest stressors in my life lately. i’ve been getting relentlessly harassed and bullied by a coworker (and my boss has done very little in regards to it), and something happened the other day with an extremely cruel parent of one of my kids, and it triggered something in me.

i was already having a difficult time the night before in regards to my ex (had a late night arguing with him and there were many countless unkind words said about me and the kind of person i am), and i was already in an incredibly bad place, so the work thing just pushed me to the edge. so i left work early, purchased a lot of cold medicine, went home, and took it all on top of sleeping pills and other stuff i can’t remember. said goodbye to my loved ones before i eventually went to sleep.

after that, a lot of it was a blur, so what i’m relaying right now is either from the few times i was lucid or from what other people have recalled to me.

live-in ex had been driving around trying to find me after my friends at work alerted her that i’d left suddenly, but she eventually made her way back to our apartment where she found me cold in our bed, and so she called 911. she tried rousing me but she was unsuccessful. paramedics eventually came and they kept trying to wake me up and eventually brought me to the emergency room.

i’m not sure what they tried to do to me in there, but obviously they tried to flush all the drugs out or whatever. i remember very little during this time, just that they had to cut my clothes off of me and i couldn’t stay awake for long. live-in ex was there the whole time, but they didn’t let her in the room until my mom got there and declared her as family (they wouldn’t let her past the waiting area bc we’re not related, so my mom had them list her as my spouse so she could be with me).

eventually, they placed me in the ICU where i was placed on bed rest (literally was not allowed to get off my bed because there were at least like, five or six wires attached to me) the whole time. a nurse has to be in the same room as me at all times, so they rotate these different nurses in 12 hour shifts, apart from the regular lead nurse who does hourly rounds to check on me. thankfully, they allowed visitors, so live-in ex stayed with me for most of it (so did my mom and my dad briefly, but they’re not as important). when they deemed me “healthy” enough (basically they wanted to make sure i didn’t lose my liver or something), they moved me into a regular hospital room.

been in here for the past day or so now. i can still have visitors, so live-in ex, both my parents, and my baby sister have all visited me. one of my coworkers who i’m close to also surprised me with a visit (which was so sweet, i was trying not to cry). they’re thankfully allowing me to have my phone and all (i’d be going insane if not), but i’ve been mostly sleeping honestly.

i tried asking them to not admit me into the psych ward cause i hate being in the looney bin, but i don’t have much of a choice because of the “severity” of my attempt. tried to opt for outpatient, but gonna be put in inpatient whether i like it or not, so i’ll be spending christmas here in the hospital alone unfortunately. oh well.

oops, yeah, not long story short lmao. anyway, sorry for worrying y’all. i really was not as lucid as i believed i was at the time that i’d made all those cryptic posts. i wanted to spend some time writing while i’m in here, but my emotional state has been so raw recently and the past few days being in here has caused me to be a lot more blocked in regards to that. my writing is tied to my emotions, so i won’t be able to write for y’all until i can process my emotions better again.

i don’t necessarily plan to abandon y’all, but if i’m slightly less active on here than usual, please understand why.

love you all.

[ptergwen]

omg what about a peter blurb where the reader turns their phone off to study or sleep or finish work to meet a deadline or something and they haven’t talked to peter al day bc of that and he freaks out imagining the worst (bc he’s seen the worst poor boy) and comes over to the reader’s apartment and they’re so confused and like make fun of him for being so worried 🥺 idk i just think it’d be cute

oh wow this one really got me :,)

peter 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

hey babe, hope you had a good sleep ♥️ wanna go for breakfast?

peter 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

i’ll take you to that place with the smiley faces in their pancakes :) the ones made of fruit

peter 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

it’s getting kinda late y/n... where are u?

Five missed calls from peter 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

too many thoughts are running through peter’s head as he jumps into his form fitting suit. his alter ego usually takes sunday’s off, but he’s making an exception for you. he’s insanely worried about you and why you haven’t returned any of his texts or calls. it’s well past noon already. you’re usually up by now, and you’re never not on your phone. something just seems off.

peter quickly swings through the neighborhood until he gets to your apartment building. he moves so fast that it’s reckless, banging into poles hard enough to leave bruises. that doesn’t matter to him, though. all he wants is for you to be okay. he wants to see you and know that everything is fine. you two haven’t hung out this weekend, so it’s been a couple days since he’s properly checked in with you. anything could happen in that timeframe.

you could’ve gotten hurt, or been taken, or much worse. peter isn’t even willing to let himself think what worse entails. he’d like to be logical and assume you slept in. maybe, his texts simply didn’t send. may has been meaning to make a complaint about their building’s spotty wifi.

in peter’s world, everything is unfortunately beyond logic. he’s freaking spider-man, which means people are out to get him. they’re out to get you. he has no clue what he’d do if they succeeded.

you spin around in your desk chair, earbuds playing music loudly while you read over your notes. final exams are coming soon. you’re using every free second you have from this point on to study for them. sighing, you star a definition you’ve been struggling with. your music drowns out the sound of peter frantically knocking at your window.

he can’t see you from where you’re sitting, so he isn’t sure if you’re there or not. it’s when you finally look up that you notice the red and black clad figure peering in. you gasp, startled at his sudden appearance. you pull out your earbuds and make your way to the window. peter lets out the biggest breath of relief when he sees you approaching.

“sorry, i was-“ your explanation is cut off by peter’s rambling. “are you okay? where have you been? i was... i was so scared something happened to you, y/n,” he admits in a high pitched voice, you only stepping back so he can come inside. continuing, he pulls off his mask. “did you not get my texts? or calls? i was trying to call you all morning. please don’t forget to answer me, y/n/n. you know how i get when-“

“i’m fine, peter!” you reassure him with a giggle. he’s out of breath from talking so much and rushing to you. “i’m right here. i’ve been here all day.” you grab his broad shoulders, which relax under your touch. “well... why didn’t you reply?” peter wonders, frowning as his arms come to hug your waist. “did you not wanna go out with me?“ confused, you tilt your head to the side. “i haven’t checked my phone in hours. i was studying. wait, you wanted to take me out?”

peter can calm down at last. you’re not in danger, you weren’t ignoring him. you were simply busy doing schoolwork. that, he actually applauds you for.

“for breakfast, yeah.” he manages a shy grin as he coaxes your body closer to his. “i’d ask if you’re still interested, but it’s a little too late now.” you raise a challenging eyebrow. “i love brunch.” “i love you,” peter deadpans and pecks your lips sweetly. humming, you bring a hand up to the back of his head while your lips press to his once again. his messed up curls brush your face as he leans in and kisses back.

“i love you, too,” you mumble against his lips, earning a real smile from peter. he’s still smiling when he breaks the kiss. he gives you a final one on your forehead, arms never leaving you. “how about you get dressed so we can bounce?” “will you swing me there? you came prepared,” you tease, heading over to your dresser. his face starts to heat up. “i thought you might’ve been in trouble.”

“in trouble of failing a test, not being sacrificed by a supervillain.” you’re laughing to yourself while you get your clothes together. fully blushing, peter takes a seat on your bed. “you never know.” he toys with his gloved fingers. “just wanted to make sure i could protect you, if you needed me.” “peter... baby,” you coo, walking back over to him with your outfit tucked under your arm.

“i appreciate you dropping everything and coming here, i really do. shows me how much you care.” you cup one of his pink cheeks in your hand, willing peter to look at you. he does, threading his fingers through yours. “i care a lot.” “so much that you drive yourself insane,” you agree. his lips stretch into a small smile. “trust me, you’re the first person i’m calling when bad guys try to capture me.” your thumb brushes over his skin, eyes softening.

“that makes me feel strangely better. i’ll think before i overreact next time,” peter decides and kisses your palm a few times. “you didn’t overreact. you’ve been through some shit, pete.” you nod to stress your point. “it’s a normal response, okay?” “thank you, baby. for... i don’t know, existing,” he chuckles softly. you ruffle his curls with a goofy grin.

“let’s go get some smiley face pancakes.”

[chosonore]

part one | calmness

calmness [noun. the state or quality of being free from agitation or strong emotion]

pairing: kamo choso/f!reader

summary: falling in love with choso was a gradual and slow process, creeping up on you so inconspicuously that you don’t realize until the feelings hit full force. he’s become a constant in your life, your sun, your home. but does he return the feelings?

wordcount: 8k

content/warnings: roommates au, friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life, mentions of alcohol, language, some pining but not really, the amount of oblivious reader and choso will kill you, slow burn, characters are aged up if not already obvious, lowercase intended, [UNEDITED]

a/n: [hello this is a re-post because my blog was banned for a few days! so if you’ve seen it before, i’ve had to delete it i am so sorry if you’ve saved it. but it’s here to stay now!] here it is, the long awaited roommate!choso series wehfuhuehw if you’ve lurked around on my blog before, you would’ve seen the little drabbles i’ve sent suki a while back. this idea has been floating around in my head for so long and there isn’t really a lot of plot to it, it’s really just a really long slice of life thing. wanted to explore falling in love with choso, i just... love him a lot ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ i’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how he would be in situations like this and i hope you enjoy!

masterlist - next

you were pretty sure that you’d scared all the costumers away with your constant sighing – even yuuji was looking at you concerned now although you’d told him that you were fine hours prior. the entire apartment hunting issue was now getting to you; a few months prior, your landlord had announced that he would be selling the apartment, leaving you with no other option than to find a new apartment. but rent was astronomically high and you were already struggling as is. even finding roommates was proven to be a difficult feat, you weren’t sure why but you kept attracting weird people and now two weeks before the moving out date, you still didn’t have a place to stay. worst case scenario, you’d have to rent a storage space and crash at your friend’s place.

“y/n, are you okay? you look… very stressed,” yuuji asked gingerly, after he’d closed the store and helped you clean up the cash register area. “uh if it helps, you can vent to me! we’re friends right? so what’s bothering you?”

you were hesitant. sure, despite not knowing him so well since he’s only been working at the store for a month or two now, you would consider the two of you friends. but you felt bad just dumping the entirety of your worries onto him. so you opted to tell him the… short truth.

“ah it’s just- i’ve been looking for a place to stay because, essentially, i’m getting kicked out of my place but it’s been pretty unsuccessful,” you sighed, scrubbing at the counter more vigorously now. “i need to move out in two weeks but i haven’t found a place yet and the people looking for roommates just seem to be people who would drive me insane.”

“oh really?” yuuji sounded hopeful- wait, why did he sound hopeful? “my older brother is looking for a new roommate! his former roommate recently moved in with his boyfriend so the room is vacant right now. if you want, i could arrange a date for you to look at the apartment and meet him? i promise my brother isn’t weird or anything, he’s pretty diligent with chores and is always up to hang out.”

your jaw dropped; yuuji was your lifesaver. he was incredibly friendly and polite, always helping others and looking out for everyone. you were overwhelmed with joy and relief, maybe you were naïve and too hast in trusting his words but his brother had to be similar to him, you couldn’t imagine them being polar opposites. it couldn’t be that bad and at this point, you were desperate. “i would love that! when are you guys free?”

“ah we could actually head over to his place after clocking out,” yuuji put the boxes and pens back into place before ushering you to the staff room and turning the lights off. “he’s been home quite early lately, so i can just let him now right now if you’re free?”

you nodded in agreement, almost too eagerly, as you threw your jacket on and grabbed your bag, waiting for yuuji outside of the store. it was already dark outside and you almost felt bad for taking up his time like this but he had offered after all. yuuji was furiously texting as he stepped out of the building, screen lighting up his face in a comical way. in the dim light of the street lamps, you clumsily fumbled with the keys before finally being able to lock the door.

“you’re in luck, he’s home right now!” yuuji announced, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his red sweater. “said it’s okay if we drop by real quick.”

you hummed in thought, matching yuuji’s pace as you walked across the street. “does he live far away from here?”

“nope, it’s basically around the corner.”

thankfully, the apartment was within walking distance so you had a slow stroll while talking about work, friends and uni. although you shared the same friend circle, it was almost impossible to have both of you in the same room – yuuji was often busy with club activities while you were constantly studying or working. it wasn’t until he started working at the store that you finally got to know each other, immediately getting along much to your friends’ relief. he had never talked about his older brother before so you were surprised that he had siblings at all. but he sounded genuine when he said that his brother was cool so you didn’t think much of it.

“okay so this is the place,” yuuji stopped in front of a building, pressing the doorbell. “please don’t be too intimidated when you meet choso, he looks unfriendly and unamused sometimes but that’s just his face.”

turning around, you took a closer look at your surroundings. it was an apartment building that looked rather cozy, surrounded by tall, expanding trees. to your relief, it wasn’t a sketchy neighbourhood - you’d always felt wary about walking home by yourself after a late shift. in the distance, you could see a playground and screaming, laughing children. it was harmonious and peaceful, easing your soul and initial doubts.

“oh okay,” you bit your lip in nervousness as the buzzer went off, following yuuji into the building. the closer you got to the apartment, the squirmier you got, anxious about meeting his older brother. the door was already left ajar so you could enter, the smell of food wafting out of the apartment to the hallway. you peeked inside before entering, immediately feeling more at ease upon seeing that the apartment was organized and clean. coats and jackets hung up on the coatrack, shoes lined up neatly along the wall. several photos were stuck to the wall - one of a younger chubby-cheeked yuuji, one of what looked like a garden party, another one of a happily smiling group of people. your heart was warming up; yuuji’s brother seemed like a rather attentive person who appreciated his surroundings and close friends and family.

“choso! did you make dinner for me?” yuuji called out as he kicked off his shoes and stormed inside before you could stop him, leaving you to your own devices as you awkwardly stood in the hallway of the apartment after closing the door. you took your shoes off slowly, stalling as much time as possible. should you just wait for yuuji to come back? or should you come in and greet them with the same energy that yuuji just exuded? but then his brother might think that you were weird and reject you straight away. you froze when a deeper voice rang out.

“didn’t you say you’d bring a friend? where are they?”

you hastily took off your shoes and tiptoed deeper into the apartment, hiding behind yuuji as you looked at the taller man in front of him. his brother looked at you curiously, placing the cooking utensils he was holding onto the counter. so yuuji and him did look like polar opposites. yuuji, for the lack of better terms, looked like a soft peach while the man in front of you had tied his dark, long hair in twin tails and was sporting a huge white shirt with sweatpants but perhaps the most striking thing about him was the face tattoo. you hadn’t expected that at all. he spiked your interest, you couldn’t deny that he was attractive. you had to snap out of it, this was your potential future roommate and you did not need to have any further thoughts. not of that kind.

“hi,” you greeted quietly and held your hand out for him to shake. “i’m y/n, nice to meet you.”

“choso.” he shook your hand, giving you an approving nod.

maybe you stared at his hand a little too obviously, admiring his long fingers, his nicely shaped fingernails and the veins on his hand. yuuji cleared his voice, slightly elbowing you in the side. you gasped in embarrassment, jerking your hand from his and hiding it behind your back. choso didn’t seem like he had caught onto your staring. and if he did, he had enough mercy to not bring it up.

“let me show you your room first,” choso explained unfazed, patiently waiting until you followed him. he walked across the living room, pointing to the side. while yes, he was attractive and seemed to be an enjoyable person to be around with, you couldn’t shake the wariness in your bones. choso switched on the lights, letting you step into the room first. it was empty for the most part, aside from a few boxes that were neatly stacked and placed in the corner. the room had a comfortable size, big enough to fit everything that you owned but not too big so that you’d feel uncomfortable with the empty spaces.

“sorry about the boxes,” choso apologized, turning to you. “i’ve been storing some of the stuff from our studio here, since i sometimes work from home and it was more convenient to have it here instead of my room.”

“i see…” you nodded, trying your best not to peek at the contents of the box. “if you don’t mind me asking, what do you work as?”

“some of my friends and me, we’ve opened a tattoo and piercing studio earlier this year. i only do tattoos though, some of the others do piercings additionally,” he explained to you, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. your mouth fell open, making you look like a fish. you couldn’t hide your excitement, eyes gleaming like you’d just discovered the biggest treasure you’ve ever seen.

“really? that’s so cool! yuuji never told me you were a tattooist, i would love to see your works someday,” you grinned from ear to ear while choso looked away from you, not being able to handle the praise. although he appreciated the sentiment, he didn’t know how to respond to compliments - the feeling was foreign to him.

"yeah, sure," choso replied with a strained voice. in the dim light, no one would be able to make out how the tips of his ears reddened and choso was thankful for that. he cleared his voice, slowly trudging outside of the room to show you the rest of his apartment.

when yuuji had mentioned that he’d found a potential roommate for choso, he didn’t tell anything else. choso didn’t expect it to be yuuji’s co-worker, much less someone whose energy was so bright and happy unlike his gloomy self. he briefly wondered whether you were okay with living here - even if you were desperate to find an apartment, surely you'd at least want someone who was… more open and less intimidating than him.

you trailed behind his broad frame, carefully taking in the entirety of the apartment. it seemed like there was nothing to worry about. even though you've only known him for a few minutes, you felt at ease with him and that gave you a better feeling about moving in with him. yuuji was innocently sitting on the couch, spooning the soup choso had prepared earlier while watching tv. his eyes followed the pair, relieved that there was less awkwardness than he anticipated but slightly suspicious because… there was something.

as choso showed you the rest of the apartment - kitchen, living room and bathroom - he comprehensively explained expenses and house rules to you. there weren't many rules to begin with; choso simply disliked clutter and expected everything to be put back to its original place after use, being noisy was a no-go as well. everything in between was negotiable. by the end of the apartment tour, you joined yuuji in the living room. he shot you a questioning look, raising his eyebrow in curiosity. you were certain that you'd take the offer. there was no way this opportunity would go to waste.

"thank you for showing me around, choso," you smiled at him gratefully. "if you're okay with me moving in, i'd love to become your roommate. i think we'll get along well."

the last box was haphazardly tossed in the corner of your room, earning you a disapproving glare from choso. exhausted, you flopped on the bed and spread across it like a starfish. choso placed the remaining boxes on the floor. moving day was, despite choso coming to your rescue, utterly chaotic and tiring. your muscles were aching from overexertion and there was no remaining energy or nerve for you to attend to unpacking. you felt like a jellylike mass.

"i'll cook something for us. do you have any preferences or dislikes?"

you lifted your head slightly to peek at choso who was standing in the doorway, on his way out. “you’ll cook for me? what are you, an angel?”

choso didn’t reply, simply stared at you. he was used to such antics - it reminded him of his childhood when he was still living with yuuji and taking care of him. lethargically, you shook your head and planted your face back in the pillow. "no, i'm okay with anything. will inhale anything as long as it's edible," though your voice was muffled, choso understood you nonetheless. he made a confused, albeit affirmative noise before disappearing. a long exhale left your lips. truthfully, you were lucky to have an amazing roommate like choso. even though you didn't know each other well and he wasn't very talkative, he was very much willing to help. with time, you were sure he would warm up to you and become great friends. your eyes were slowly drooping, the exhaustion settling in your bones. within minutes, you dozed off into a deep, comfortable slumber. you didn't wake until a knock roused you out of your sleep, startling you in the process.

"huh? yeah?" you scrambled hastily, trying to fix the bird's nest that was your hair. choso did not need to see you in this state - delirious from being woken up from your deep slumber, feeling as if you'd woken up in a new century and with imprints of your pillows and blanket on your skin. before you could make yourself presentable, choso had already opened the door and stared at you unabashedly.

you blinked dumbfounded, staring back at him.

“food’s ready. you coming?” choso gave you a questioning look, waiting for a reaction. so apparently, he did not care what you looked like after waking up. he didn’t even bat an eyelid at your messy state, unfazed by it.

“uh yeah, give me a minute,” you replied after a few moments passed, sitting up tiredly. choso nodded before closing the door behind him as he returned to the kitchen. grabbing yourself a fluffy blanket, you wrapped it around yourself and waddled outside. whatever he had prepared, it smelled divine. you hummed in content as you took a seat at the dining table. the table was already set, dishes still steaming and looking so inviting that you had to stop yourself from drooling. choso padded to the table, placing some drinks on the table before taking a seat as well. as he described the dishes he'd cooked for the two of you, you inconspicuously looked him up and down. this time, without yuuji catching wind of it.

you knew choso was tall and very broad but you only realized the full extent of it seeing how the chair seemed tiny in comparison to his frame. his hair was down for a change, falling just above his shoulders. as usual, he was wearing comfortable clothes; a big shirt, big enough that you could admire his arm muscles and hands every time the sleeves moved. not only was he attractive, he was incredibly attentive and helpful as well, not expecting anything in return.

"thank you for cooking, i really appreciate it. looks really good," you complimented choso, taking a bite from the dish. you hummed delighted, wiggling in your seat happily. "oh my god, this is so delicious! where did you learn cooking like this?"

"i used to cook for yuuji and myself a lot."

"i wanna return the favour too but now i kind of feel inadequate," you joked lightly, smiling at him sheepishly. while you weren't the worst cook, you weren't outstandingly great either. choso however, was probably the best cook you knew.

"i don't mind. as long as you do your best, it's the thought that counts."

you nodded in agreement, taking a sip from your drink. silence fell over you; a comfortable silence however, both of you just enjoying the food. you supposed it wasn't too bad if you took your time getting to know each other - after all, choso seemed like someone who would quickly recoil if cornered. it wasn't too much of a concern.

after finishing the meal, you helped him clean up and wash the dishes. nudging him gently, you asked: "do you want to watch some movies after? yuuji recommended me a few that i have yet to check out."

choso took the plates, drying them with the towel before placing them back to their designated spots. "sure, you're responsible for the movie selection then."

spending time with choso was easy, almost too easy. you were glad that the two of you were off to a good start, he didn't seem to mind your company and you enjoyed his. cheerfully, you put the movie on, snuggling the blanket that was wrapped around you. the way you were laying on the couch was reminding choso of a little burrito. unbeknownst to him, the corner of his lips lifted a little at the sight. he waited until you noticed him and shuffled a little so he could sit on the couch as well. the movie you had chosen was a lighthearted comedy, one that yuuji had highly praised and recommended you watch first.

midway through the movies, the exhaustion was creeping up on you, making you feel heavy and sleepy until you slumped against choso's side. he glanced to the side, observing you to see whether you would wake up. soft and steady breaths left your lips, already asleep within seconds. choso pondered whether to wake you now, worrying that you would miss out on the movie that you were so eager to watch. you looked so peaceful that he felt bad, deciding to wake you once the movie was over. but even choso couldn't shake the tiredness, gradually slumping against you until sleep overtook him as well.

as the sun was rising, light was flooding the apartment, filling it with warmth. you scrunched your eyebrows at the brightness, attempting to move so it wouldn't blind you. the first thing you noticed was your strained neck - probably because of the weird position you had slept in - and the second thing was that something heavy was laying on your lap. blinking in confusion, you peeked, groaning inwardly at the blinding light. black hair was splayed across your lap, connecting to… choso? oh no. oh no. you must've fallen asleep while watching the movie and judging how choso was comfortably using your lap as a pillow, he did as well. embarrassment spread throughout your body; this wasn't supposed to happen, much less with someone you didn't know so well.

now that you were unintentionally watching him, you felt creepy. the situation was too perplexing to you - should you wake him now? or just wait… until he woke up? but what if you had to pee. what if choso wasn’t going to wake up until a few hours later? what if he woke up and saw you staring at him like a creep? though you did think he looked vulnerable and peaceful in this state, unusual from his intimidating, unwavering self. it made your heart tingle with an unknown feeling, softly bubbling with curiosity.

beneath you, choso was moving slightly, shuffling around until he felt comfortable. you stayed still, tensely watching his next movements. he remained still for a while, making you exhale in relief. until he didn’t. choso blinked a few times, trying to make sense of his surroundings until his gaze fell onto yours. and you stared back, frozen in fear. even if he was the one laying on your lap, you felt anxious.

“uh i… we must’ve fallen asleep last night, ha ha…”

“you fell asleep early on and i was going to wake you after the movie ended but fell asleep myself, i’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable,” choso apologized sincerely and sat up right away, rubbing his eyes sleepily. even though he looked rather deadpan, there was a trace of embarrassment on his face.

“oh no, it’s okay! we both fell asleep after all… ah, since we’re roommates, we’re sort of friends now, right? so don’t mind it too much, it happens!” you gave choso a reassuring smile, showing him that there was no bad blood between you.

choso nodded slowly. “i guess so. i’m glad you don’t mind. "

an awkward pause.

"do you have classes anytime soon? i can make breakfast for us.”

and just like that, the tension between you was alleviated. not completely gone, but barely noticeable. choso stretched like a cat, yawning quietly before he got up. you couldn't help but glance at his toned stomach, eyes almost bulging at the sight. turning to the side, you hid your face and cleared your voice. "i don't have classes today but i have to go to work later. so i won't say no to breakfast if you're making it."

"how's living with choso?" yuuji questioned you curiously, leaning against the counter. lowering the pen and writing board you were holding, you hummed in thought. in the past few weeks, the two of you had settled into a comfortable routine. there were minor hiccups here and there but the issues were easily resolved - somehow, you silently understood each other, an important foundation for a good friendship.

"pretty relaxing, to be honest. he's a good roommate and friend," you replied, clicking with the pen which earned you an annoying glance from yuuji. "you should've told me he was a great cook! i don't think i've ever tasted any dishes that were as good as his."

"he cooks for you?" the surprised tone in yuuji's voice startled you. was that out of the ordinary? you just thought he was being a good friend when he prepared dinner for you whenever you had a late shift.

"uh yeah? mostly when i come home late or when we have movie nights together. i always tell him that i can definitely help but he insists that he's fine doing it himself."

"i see. choso just doesn't like people messing with his cooking routine, that's all. i'm not even allowed near the kitchen, even though i'm not that bad of a cook either," yuuji laughed, scratching his head sheepishly. he wasn't going to tell you why he was perplexed by the fact that choso willingly cooked for you. it was too early to make any assumptions; he just couldn't shake the feeling that there was something at play. no one knew his brother better than him - choso would never do any favours for persons he didn't care about, persons that weren't family or extremely close friends. while they had talked about choso's thoughts about you, he never mentioned anything more than getting along well and often spending time together. for choso's standards, you were a quite close friend.

"oh, and here i was, thinking that he must really hate my cooking skills. so it's just that," you concluded, grinning happily. he was weirdly persistent about it but knowing this detail about him, you'd stop pestering him in the future. "hey do you wanna come over tomorrow? it's movie night again, i'm sure you'd enjoy it too."

"hmm, sounds tempting. if you can convince choso to cook, i'm in."

"pff, who would say no to this face," you retorted mischievously, showing yuuji the best puppy face you could muster up. he groaned, pushing you gently.

"show off," he told you jokingly and rolled his eyes. "i don't know how choso tolerates you."

"you're just jealous, huh? didn't think you had that emotion in you. choso and me are the bestest of friends, of course we get along well," you stuck your tongue out at yuuji before leaving him to his own devices as you bolted to the cash register to help a customer. as you animatedly conversed with them, yuuji shook his head. it was obvious that there was some attraction but that was something he'd let you figure out. cupid wasn't a well-fitting job for him. friends, my ass.

"huh, did you say something, yuuji?"

"no, not at all."

soft, melodious music was playing in the background as you silently sat at the counter, watching choso prepare some meals before yuuji was visiting. this time, you heeded his advice, not pestering his brother about needing help and instead just opting to watch him and make light conversation. choso seemed to have noticed as well, mood ever so slightly lifted when he saw you simply taking a seat and asking about his day. he liked this routine, being able to go about his day without someone unwantedly poking their nose into his business until he felt comfortable enough to talk about it. as you absentmindedly doodled on a napkin, choso casually told you about his day at work. about squirmy customers who were getting their first tattoo done, about those that had interesting ideas that he was still trying to find ways to implement, about how noisy his co-workers were and that they wanted to have a night out soon.

“do you wanna join us? you said you wanted to meet my friends,” choso asked, briefly glancing up at you as he was dicing the vegetables. it was true, you did inquire about his friends at some point, more so jokingly and out of curiosity - although he complained about them every now and then, you could tell that he deeply cared about them. choso was the kind of person who acted like a mother hen around friends and sometimes nagged a lot more than you anticipated. but then somehow, miraculously, every minuscule task that would stress you was completed and topped with a freshly made, warm dish by the end of the day. he wasn't good with words but his actions made up for it.

you didn’t expect him to offer you to tag along. he was comfortable enough to introduce you to his friends, even seemed to trust you with them. it felt… strangely heartwarming. "i would love to join you but i have quite a lot of assignments piling up; i'll have to do some night shifts to finish them," you replied and sighed ruefully, putting the pen away. "i'll tag along once i've finished everything, okay?"

choso frowned slightly. "but don't overwork yourself. you'll end up frustrated and burnt out," he told you earnestly, reaching out to pat your head. you gaped at him, the fond gesture making you feel flustered. it was nice knowing that he was looking out for you. choso stared back at you, seemingly startled by his own gesture as well. his hand had moved faster than he could react - he didn't know what to make of it.

the ring of the doorbell interrupted every trail of thought and you jumped up quickly. "i'll get it!" you sprinted towards the entrance, letting yuuji in. perhaps you greeted him too overzealously, yuuji looked at you like he knew something was up. nonetheless, he didn't mention anything, instead presenting you the bottle of wine and some dvds that he brought. choso gave his younger brother an acknowledging grunt, too absorbed in his tasks. taking in his surroundings as he got comfortable on the couch, he noticed some subtle changes in the apartment - the numerous pillows and fleece blankets littered across the couch, the set of matching mugs as well as choso's sketchbooks and, presumably, your textbooks on the coffee table. it was obvious that the two of you spent a lot of time together.

even throughout dinner, yuuji realized that choso had taken a liking to you, more than he probably realized and let on. he almost felt like a third wheel watching how you animatedly talked about trivial things and even more so when it was movie time. like a little burrito, you were wrapped in a blanket, leaning against choso. though it surprised yuuji to see his older brother opening up to you so rapidly, he was happy about it. although chaotic and clumsy, you were a good person and a positive influence. having witnessing how choso had closed up and how hurt he had been after the break up of his previous relationship, yuuji was glad that he wasn't cautious around you and welcomed your presence. even though… both of you were painfully oblivious.

"should we wake her?" yuuji asked as he saw you snuggling into choso's side, peacefully sleeping while the movie was still on.

"no, it's okay. she often falls asleep midway through movies, i just let her sleep. probably exhausted from uni."

yuuji looked at him as if he grew three heads. "so you just let her sleep? and you… sleep on the couch too?"

"hm? yeah, kind of. i feel bad about waking her and we're friends so it's not that big of a deal," choso replied innocently, shifting slightly so he was comfortable while keeping his arm around you. ever so slightly, he leaned onto you.

yuuji buried his face in his hands, silently screaming. don't comment on it, don't say anything, it's none of your business. you might have pink hair but you're no cupid.

utterly exhausted, you made your way into the apartment. you flopped onto the couch, grunting in irritation when you heard choso calling your name. staying put, you just laid there and listened to his footsteps nearing. "you okay? did anything happen?" he questioned, leaning over the couch to look at you. you weren't even sure what to answer, whatever you were feeling at the moment was an accumulation of stress across multiple weeks. you were frustrated with your projects, feeling like you weren't making any progress and not having time for yourself whatsoever. all you needed was a break, a pick me up.

"do you wanna talk about it?" choso repeated again but you shook your head, lifting your head slightly to look at him. he almost felt bad for thinking that you looked adorable, the way you huffed in frustration with a little pout on your lips. you shook your head, hugging one of the pillows.

"not now, later maybe?"

"okay. i'll make you a cup of tea." he disappeared from your field of vision. you listened to the sound of the kettle, closing your eyes as you focused on it. slowly, your erratic thoughts came to a halt. your breath and heartbeat steadied and you gradually felt more calm. clack. choso placed the cup of tea on the coffee table, taking a seat next to you. he was hesitant to touch you just yet, waiting for another reaction from you. sniffling quietly, you sat up and thanked him quietly.

"choso?"

"hm?"

"can i have a hug?" you inquired meekly. he didn't reply, simply pulling you into his arms. without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. he smelled nice, like freshly washed laundry and the shampoo he was using. it reminded you of home, making you feel more at ease. gently, choso rubbed your back; wherever his fingers moved, it left a trail of goosebumps on your skin. not that he noticed anyways, fortunately. for a few minutes, only the sound of breathing resounded. it was calming and warm - choso was warm, so warm - you almost fell asleep. humming quietly, you moved closer to him.

"today was just really… bad. everything went wrong," you confided in him. "it made me feel like shit, like i couldn't do anything right. i guess i just feel really stressed so i can't concentrate on anything."

choso leaned forward, reaching out to grab the cup of tea. you squeaked in surprise, holding onto him so you wouldn't drop backwards. his left arm snaked around your waist, keeping you in place as he leaned back again. you moved back a little, as far as choso's arm allowed you to, and took the cup from him, taking small sips. "i think you're doing okay," he told you, drawing patterns on your back. "it's only natural to feel this way when everything's been piling up. what you need is a good rest and have a reset, you'll feel more refreshed and inspired to work on your projects. and don't hesitate to ask for help, no matter whether it's a professor or classmate."

"i also told you not to overwork yourself, didn't i? and don't think i can't tell that you've been pulling all nighters," he scolded you, pinching your cheek playfully. it made you giggle, tilting your head to get away from his hand.

"yeah i know, i know. just couldn't help it, it's a bad habit. i'll try to get better at it," you promised him, giving him a reassuring smile. "thank you for listening to me."

"it's the least i can do."

a comfortable silence fell over you. choso continued to rub your back in an attempt to soothe your nerves while you sipped your tea. you were grateful for him, he was an amazing friend - you didn’t even know how to show gratitude to him. awkwardly turning to put the mug back on the table, you then leaned against him. “choso?” you hummed against his chest, snaking your arms around his waist. “you know you can talk to me about problems too, right?”

“what do you think we’ve been doing these past few weeks?” he retorted and chuckled in amusement. “you should try to go to bed now. get some rest, you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

you pouted, not wanting to move. fortunately, he couldn’t see the face you were making - you weren’t ready to let him go just yet, wanting to memorize the expanse of his chest, his warmth, the way his arms felt around you. it made you feel safe, like a temporary relief to your anxiety. “can we… can we watch a movie maybe? i’m not sleepy yet.”

of course, choso saw right through you. “you always say that and then you fall asleep midway. you just don’t want to move, huh?”

“okay, you caught me,” you giggled hysterically as he stood up slowly and pretended to let you fall, catching you before you fell. clinging onto his shoulders, you wrapped your legs around his waist. you refused to let go. unbothered, he held you by your thighs as he waddled across the living room towards the console to choose a dvd to watch. while clinging onto choso, you could hear his heart beating rapidly - you chalked it up to how strenuous it must be to carry you around. choso, on other hand, couldn’t put a finger on the warm, tingly feeling inside of him. did he like having you around like this? stupid, of course he did, you were good friends after all. spending time with you was relaxing for him as well. back on the couch, he let you use his lap as a pillow, absentmindedly combing his fingers through your hair. the two of you remained in this position until both inevitably fell asleep, movie still playing in the background.

“y/n. earth to y/n. dude, can you hear me?” nobara was frantically waving papers in front of your face, rolling her eyes as you snapped out of your trance and took them from her. to your delight, the two of you shared quite a few classes this semester which meant that you could usually share the workload as well. you copied some of her notes, hastily scribbling them in your notebook.

"sorry, i was lost in thought. what did you say?"

"i asked you whether you wanna go out later? the whole crew is coming, it's been a while anyways," your friend repeated, placing her little cosmetics bag on the table to check her makeup and apply another layer of lip gloss.

"ah sorry, i already have plans for today, maybe ano-"

"with whom?" she asked pointedly, narrowing her eyes at you. in recent times, you've been rejecting her offers to hang out a lot; whether it be because of studying or hanging out with… "wait, are you having a date with that roommate of yours again?"

"it's not a date!" you briefly paused, giving her a dirty look. nobara was weirdly persistent about this dating thing, claiming that you would never get anywhere if you didn't make a move. "his name is choso, yuuji's older brother. i told you a million times already. he's been a really good friend and taking care of me when i feel stressed, so i thought it would be time for me to do the same for him."

"a really good friend?" a doubtful look was shot your way.

"yeah, i mean yuuji cooks for us all the time, how is it any different? anyways, i'll join you guys another day, okay?"

nobara stayed still for a moment. you truly didn't realize how much you's been mentioning choso. choso this, choso that, choso here, choso there. even yuuji had confided in her that he thought you might have developed a crush on his older brother though he wasn't certain. nobara, however, was sure. but operation make y/n realize things proved to be more difficult, considering you hadn't had a crush before as you were never interested in relationships.

"fine. but in return, you have to tell me about choso. what do you think of him?" nobara stuffed her belongings into the impossibly full handbag. propping her chin on her hands, she leaned closer to you with a shit-eating grin. you sighed, putting the papers away. it was no use trying to focus on your assignments when she was in an investigative mood. she wouldn't let go of the issue until you gave her a satisfactory answer. and for some reason, it irked you that she was inquiring about choso. why was she so curious about him? couldn't she have asked yuuji instead? it was his brother after all. maybe nobara was… interested in choso? you narrowed your eyes at her.

"i think he's great. might be intimidating at first and not very talkative but when he opens up to you, he's actually a softie. very respectful and polite towards people, always thinks of others first. and not to mention, he's really talented too! he often acts like he's annoyed by people or minds his own business but he really does care a lot. you feel comforted by his presence when you're close with him," you rambled, trying to list all the positive points about him that you could think of. nobara nodded slightly as she was listening to you, making it difficult to gauge her stance on him. was she going to confess now? maybe you should confront her about it. yeah, she would never admit it otherwise. "nobara, are you interested in choso? if you wanted me to introduce you to him, you could've just asked."

nobara stared at you with an open mouth. checkmate.

"you know i wouldn't have judged you at all! after all, choso is handsome too. so really, you don't have to sneak around about this," you concluded triumphantly, patting her arm in reassurance. it filled you with pride to be able to catch nobara off guard for once - usually, she was very composed and ready to give you a sassy answer.

"y/n, sweetie. you're so very wrong." nobara sighed, dejectedly pushing your hand away. you were incredibly dense when it came to feelings and relationships. maybe it would be more amusing to just watch everything pan out. “i don’t really care about choso, that’s your man after all.”

“yeah, yeah, i- wait what?”

thankfully, you arrived home earlier than choso did - for once. and for once, this friday was going to be a relaxing one, seeing as you’d finally finished your projects and assignments and could finally engage in a much needed self care day. placing the groceries bags on the counter, you went through the ingredients again just to make sure you didn’t forget anything. yuuji had given you a recipe for his famous meatballs recipe, claiming that it was one of choso’s favourite dishes. in recent times, choso seemed to be exhausted and sometimes even easily irritable after work - considering how much he did for you, it was only fair for you to treat him as well. surprising him seemed to be the best course of action.

making quick work of the ingredients, you took your time to clean the apartment while the soup was still cooking. yuuji was kind enough to lend you a few dvds, not even asking you whether you were going to watch them with choso anymore. while you felt bad about turning your friends down yet again, you promised yourself to make it up to them in the future by inviting them over for a sleepover or movie night. though knowing them, they would not let you stay in the comfort of your home but drag you to a party or club again. especially nobara would always insist on dragging you along, while megumi and yuuji didn’t really care about where they would be going for the night. her excuse was to find you a partner, claiming that it was about time you realized how cute you were, which you vehemently denied. even maki had told her to pipe it down at some point. all the more, it made you suspicious that nobara had not brought the topic up anymore. you couldn’t imagine her giving up so quickly, considering how persistent she had been for almost a year now.

the jingle of the keys and the soft click of the door made you stop whatever you were doing, peeking around the corner to see choso coming in. giggling quietly, you watched as he stopped in his tracks and sniffed the air, seemingly confused about the scent of the soup. he turned around upon hearing you, a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his lips. “up to no good?” he questioned you teasingly, placing his bag and jacket in the wardrobe. huffing, you stuck your tongue out at him and shook your head. you padded over to him, softly tugging at the sleeve of his shirt to make him follow you to the kitchen.

“since you always cook for me, i thought it would be time for me to do the same for you. yuuji showed me your favourite dish but i’m not sure if it turned out as well as he always makes it,” you sheepishly explained, showing him the pot of soup and the bowls and cutlery that you’d already laid out. choso hugged your side, squeezing your waist gently before patting your head and muttering a quiet thank you. your chest filled with pride, finally being helpful to him for once. if you weren’t careful, it would burst - he fuelled your ego even more as he complimented you, telling you how well the soup turned out and that he really appreciated it. you knew he wasn’t lying, for one because he was a sincere person and always offered heartfelt compliments, and because of how eagerly he was eating, practically inhaling the soup in one go. he even looked like he was in a food coma by the time you finished dinner, making you ban him from the kitchen to take a rest on the couch.

after washing the dishes, you came back to the living room to see him lie across the couch, eyes closed and calmly breathing. he looked like he was taking a nap, until he opened his eyes to peek at you as you approached. giddily, you joined him on the couch, showing him the hair products that you’d already placed on the coffee table. “can i give you a massage and do… uh hair stuff? i really like it when people brush my hair and stuff and i thought you might enjoy it too,” you explain to him. choso contemplated for a few seconds before shrugging nonchalantly. yes! you signaled him to sit on the floor in front of you as you pressed play. with the sound of the movie in the background, you focused on choso’s hair and took off the hair ties first. he got comfortable, turning towards the tv and learning his head against the edge of the couch. gently running your fingers through his hair, you made sure to detangle rough knots before massaging his scalp gently. you could tell that choso was beginning to relax by the way his shoulders were slowly sagging. in silence, you worked through the entirety of his scalp before moving on to brush his hair.

if you didn’t already know that choso was a naturally withdrawn person, you would’ve been concerned by how quiet he was and how he didn’t show any reactions to the movie. you were glad that he seemed to like the entire hair spa ordeal; he didn’t even seem to mind that you were using your hair products on him, the soft floral scent now emanating from his hair as you massaged it through the tips and then brushed it in slow strokes. by the time you were done, he looked utterly relaxed, struggling to keep his eyes open as he climbed back on the couch and sat next to you. without having to ask, he wrapped his arms around you. yawning quietly, you moved closer to him, turning your attention to the tv. habitually, his hands moved against your back, drawing shapes and patterns. slowly, choso could feel the heat in his body rising and chalked it up to the close proximity. it did make him feel a little uneasy however; he shifted you around on his lap until he felt comfortable. abruptly halting his movements, he froze as you turned to him, ass grazing his groin. an electric shock ran through him. subconsciously, he jolted at the friction. the tips of his ears turned red in embarrassment but he reassured you he was fine when you looked at him concerned. what the hell was that? was his body now not listening to him after being so relaxed?

“choso, can i ask you something?” you leaned back slightly to look at him.

“you already did. but yeah, go ahead.” choso grinned at the little huff you let out, grasping your hand in time as you tried to hit his chest and intertwined your fingers so you couldn’t move.

“uh this might sound weird but i think a friend of mine is interested in you. nobara, do you know her?” you squeezed his hand, moving it around with yours. “she asked me about you the other day.”

“huh, really? isn’t that one of yuuji’s friends too?”

you nodded in agreement. “yeah, we’re all friends. i only told her good things about you, of course.”

choso hesitated. he wasn’t sure what to tell you, not wanting to say something about your friend that could upset you. but the truth was, he wasn’t really interested in anyone right now. the recent breakup had done a number on him and he felt like he hadn’t properly moved on just yet. not when the thoughts were still obsessively circling in his head. but when choso was with you, they miraculously seemed to disappear, making him feel more at ease. “i’m not really looking for anything right now, sorry. i don’t really want to disappoint her, i’m just not really up for a relationship right now,” he told you truthfully, giving you an apologetic smile.

you stopped in your movements, nodding slightly in understanding. and still, it made your heart seize up for an unknown reason.

ps.: the story of how it takes reader and choso ages until they realize their feelings or alternatively: nobara and yuuji unwillingly turn into cupids

[erin-bo-berin]

Prove It

MASTERLIST

This was an anon request of Spencer getting mad at being teased and being motivated enough to prove he’s not vanilla. This took forever from the time it was first requested for me to write and post it, so I’m so sorry to the anon who requested it. It feels like it’s been FOREVER since I’ve posted a smut too, so enjoy some smutty Spencer to start your week. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut, rough sex)

Word Count: 4,246

“I will never understand it.”

“Understand what?” you asked.

You sat down in one of the chairs in the jet, across from coworker and teammate Derek Morgan.

You and the team you were a part of, the Behavioral Analysis Unit—BAU for short—of the FBI had just solved another case and were on the way home.

You’d seen plenty of sickos before, so another one didn’t seem to surprise you. Of course, it was disgusting and aggravating, horrifying and awful, but you never pretended to understand unsubs in the first place. So you were quite curious about what Morgan was thinking out loud about.

Spencer Reid plopped down in the chair next to you with his cup of coffee.

How the man managed to live off coffee and actually go to sleep was a mystery to you. At this point it would benefit him to just have his coffee injected into him through IV, that’s how much he consumed.

“This S&M stuff,” Morgan waved his hand, “It’s insane.”

The case they’d just recently closed had involved a guy who had taken his violent sexual desires a step too far and found himself turned on by actually murdering women. Whether it was by choking or gagging, somehow he’d discovered he got a sexual release from killing his female partners.

What started as auto erotic asphyxiation—something that was incredibly dangerous to begin with—had turned to something more sinister and even more deadly.

“When done right, it’s actually not as bad as some of these unsubs make us believe,” Spencer said.

“I’m sure you know all about it, don’t you kid?” Morgan replied, sarcastically.

“Anyway,” he continued, before Spencer could cut in again, “I’m not judging people who do it, it just seems like even when it’s done right, it’s too dangerous to even be exciting. It’d be a mood killer for me.”

“Oh don’t tell me you don’t bring out your dominant side every once and awhile,” you smirked, teasing him.

“Hey, I’m all for some good rough sex. I’m not as vanilla as pretty boy here, but I’m not about to emotionally and physically scar Savannah.”

“Hey! What’s that’s supposed to mean?!” Spencer protested.

Savannah was Morgan’s wife, now of three years. They had a son together, Hank. Being a parent according to Morgan, you didn’t get much “mommy and daddy time”, but even then, it didn’t stop him from shamelessly sharing details about his sex life. You got used to it; it was just a Derek thing anyway.

“Sure, I’ve done some tying up and spanking, but that’s mild compared to some practices in BDSM. I once asked Reid about it and unfortunately learned more than I ever wanted to about it.”

“Excuse me,” Spencer broke in, “What’s the vanilla remark supposed to mean?”

Both yours and Derek’s heads turned to see Spencer’s brows furrowed.

“Kid, vanilla ice cream is spicier than you,” Morgan teased.

“Oh come on, that’s not true!” Spencer retorted, exasperated.

“I’m sorry Reid, I just can’t imagine you being kinky. I mean do you just spout facts during sex or what?”

You held back a snicker although you heard the rest of the team chuckling.

“No, I don’t,” Spencer flushed.

You averted your eyes from his gaze.

You and Spencer had been dating for a little while, the team none the wiser to your relationship. You couldn’t quite defend him without giving it away.

It wasn’t really a secret per se, you just mutually decided not to say anything until it became more serious. You had only slept together a few times anyway, so it wasn’t like you were familiar with his sexual proclivities.

“You’re more vanilla than Vanilla Ice,” Morgan joked, making you choke on your sip of water, laughing.

“How would you know anyway?” Spencer crossed his arms, his face now a deep red, “I could be kinkier than you know.”

“Dude, when’s the last time you even slept with a girl?” Morgan asked with a raised brow, “Wasn’t it that bartender Austin from a case 11 years ago?”

Spencer pressed his lips together tightly. He wasn’t going to say anything and you knew it because it would give away yours and his personal business.

“That’s what I thought. Vanilla,” Derek laughed, standing to refill his tumbler with more whiskey, “Don’t worry Pretty Ricky, not everyone has to be an animal in bed.”

He patted Spencer’s shoulder as he walked by to head to the back of the jet—and the whiskey decanter.

You could tell by Spencer’s pursed lips that he was annoyed.

You promised yourself that when the jet landed, you would apologize.

•

You had been wrong.

Spencer wasn’t annoyed.

He was pissed.

“Spencer, I’m sorry,” you repeated for the hundredth time.

Once the jet had landed, everyone went their separate ways, so no one was the wiser when you’d climbed into Spencer’s car. You had spent more time at his place lately than your own, so you were heading back to his apartment with him.

The entire drive was filled with tense silence. His jaw stayed clenched all the way home.

“Spence, please talk to me. If I hurt your feelings, that wasn’t my intention.”

You followed him into his apartment, watching as he sat down his go bag and satchel by the door. You sat your own things near his, as well.

You didn’t miss how tense he was, indicating his anger.

“Spence-” you began, but got cut off by his sharp tone.

“Go into the bedroom, take off all your clothes and get on the bed,” he snapped.

You were taken back, unsure if you’d heard him right the first time.

“What?”

“I said, go into the bedroom, take off all your clothes and get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself. And don’t make me do it myself cause you will regret it.”

You stood frozen in place for a second, your mouth opening and closing. By the look on his face, you could tell he was serious. 

“O-Okay,” you stammered, walking backwards to the bedroom.

You had no idea what he had planned, but deep down, you could feel the tingle of excitement beginning to work its way to the surface. Maybe some rough sex would ease his anger.

You were out of your shirt and pants before you reached the bed. You pulled off your bra, letting it fall from your fingertips and then rid your underwear before climbing onto the bed like you were asked to do, laying back.

It was at least a good ten minutes before Spencer came into the room, with something in each hand.

“What’s that?”

He didn’t answer you. 

He sat what appeared to be a glass of ice on the nightstand and grabbed one of your wrists, starting to tie it to the bedpost with what you now realized was one of his ties.

You watched as he tied the opposite one before you spoke.

“Spence, I-”

“Quiet. I don’t want to hear another word from you unless I say to speak,” he growled, climbing onto the bed, hovering over you.

His face lingered above yours, his lips not far from your own. He didn’t kiss you yet, but you could feel his warm breath fanning over your face, the anticipation of his lips finally being on yours making you anxious. 

His nose nudged yours gently as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes lidded, although they occasionally flicked up toward yours. He knew how much you wanted him to kiss you and he was using that to his advantage.

Finally, it came, feather light. It was like kissing a cloud, the faint touch not nearly enough to satiate your needs. You tried to lean upwards to meet his lips again, taking what you wanted, what you needed, but he pulled out of your reach, a wicked smirk on his face.

“Oh so this is how it’s going to be?” you mock pouted.

“My bed, my rules,” he answered.

The anticipation of this kiss made your heart race and your breath hitch. If he was willing enough to deprive you this easily and this early on, what else was he capable of?

When his lips finally met yours, it was in a surprisingly gentle manner, considering you were currently tied to his bedposts. His mouth glided along with yours, the intensity picking up rather quickly. 

His hunger and anger seemed to meld into one as he kissed you roughly, pulling back enough to capture your lower lip between his, his teeth softly scraping over it. A small, satisfied sigh emitted from you, against his lips.

Your mouth parted as you continued to enjoy the feel of his mouth on yours, his tongue being both graceful and teasing at the same time, it moving swiftly over your bottom lip.

You were already struggling with your restraints, wanting to touch him as he kissed you. Normally, your touch was everywhere on him when you kissed. From his face to his shoulders and chest and in his curls, you ravished being able to touch him. But you didn’t have that luxury right now and it was absolutely killing you.

He pulled away, lips hovering over your jaw as he kissed it just slightly, ready to move on to other areas.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll have more than enough proof that I’m anything but vanilla,” he whispered huskily, placing a kiss against your throat.

Your thighs clamped inadvertently as you suddenly became even more turned on than you had been previously. He reached over you, towards the ice, grabbing a cube.

You watched him intently, gasping sharply when the shock of cold touched your skin, just along your collarbone.

“You gonna be a good girl and do what I say?” he asked, sliding the ice cube along your chest.

You nodded eagerly, biting down on your lip as he moved the ice over the swell of your breast and across your nipple making them tighten, both from the cold and your arousal. His lips followed the trail of ice over your breasts, tongue moving out to encircle your nipple and flick it. He repeated it on the opposite side and you gave a moan of approval at his explorations.

A trail of water was left behind on your skin as he continued on, gliding the ice down the middle of your chest towards your stomach. You felt goosebumps prickle your skin at the continuous icy cold sensation.

“You’re so hot, you’re making the ice melt quickly,” he purred.

His touch left you as he reached back towards the nightstand to grab another cube. Apparently he’d been right, as the first cube had melted completely. 

Once the coolness touched your skin again you found yourself gasping. As tantalizing as this teasing was, you were extremely turned on by it. You could feel the heat within your body, your core already starting to pulsate with arousal.

“I really hate that I can’t touch you,” you groaned, tugging on your restraints.

“But that’s what makes it fun, sweetheart,” he grinned, placing a kiss on your stomach.

The ice cube moved down one of your sides, over your hip, where he gave it a playful squeeze. Then the cold hit the top of your thighs, his other hand gliding to the top of the opposite one.

You were desperate at the point and automatically widened the space between your legs. If anything, you were going to let him get a good view of just how wet you were.

His eyes flickered downwards then back up towards your face, a satisfied smirk on his lips. You squirmed, anxious for him to do anything.

“Problem, love?” he cooed.

You glared, arching your hips in an attempt to get some sort of contact.

He chuckled, spreading your legs further. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the ice moving over your outer lips definitely wasn’t it.

You hissed at the sudden cold, but you didn’t hate it at all. Not like you hated these fucking restraints. You cursed when he pressed it against your clit.

“Fuck, that feels good,” you moaned.

He hummed, looking up at you through his lashes. You groaned in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillow, tugging at your bound wrists again.

You wanted to push his head or his hands to your throbbing core; maybe both at this rate.

“Spencer, please,” you whimpered.

“Okay,” he relented, sitting back on his heels, “You’ve been a good girl so far.”

He reached over you, pulling the knotted ties loose from around your wrists. It was like sweet freedom to you. 

Before you could even touch him, he’d taken a hold of you, rolling you over so you were straddling his stomach.

“Ooh, I’m in control? I like,” you grinned, leaning down to kiss him.

You didn’t quite make it to his lips.

“Think again.”

He grabbed the back of your thighs, roughly pulling you up to sit on his face. This, you hadn’t suspected.

“Oh god,” you moaned lowly as his tongue slid up your outer lips.

His hands held your thighs tightly and he wasted no time diving right in. His tongue flicked your clit and you had to grab a hold of the headboard just to make sure you didn’t collapse on top of him.

Of course oral sex had been a part of your sex life with Spencer prior to this, but never in this way. He was usually more timid about it. But right now, he went for it in a very enthusiastic manner.

“Fuck, Spence.”

You groaned, his lips circling your clit to suck on it briefly before releasing it with a tiny pop of his mouth. His tongue flicked over it again, alternating in speed and pressure.

You had thought it couldn’t get any better until you felt a finger slide into you. You could’ve sworn you almost lost your mind at that point. His finger slowly pumped in and out of you, matching the now slower speed of his tongue that seemed to be licking everywhere but your clit.

“Dammit Spencer,” you groaned, slightly grinding against his mouth for some friction.

You jerked a bit, a surprised squeal coming from you when his hand came down on your ass. It wasn’t a bad reaction though, it had just excited you even more.

“Did you just spank me?!” you asked incredulously.

He hummed, sending a delicious vibration against your clit as his hand came down again on your ass making you moan loudly.

You had no idea there was this side to him.

“Fuck, Spencer, yes baby,” you whined, your hips moving back and forth over his face as his fingers and tongue drove you crazy.

The faster his fingers went, the harder his tongue moved. You were gripping the headboard so tight, your knuckles were white.

“Ah!” you squealed, at an additional spank.

It wasn’t hard enough to be too rough and painful, just hard enough to be incredibly sexy, sending a charge directly to your currently, extremely stimulated clit.

It was also incredibly appealing to you to feel the slight scratch of his facial hair against your nether regions as he ravished you. 

You could feel your entire body tensing, preparing for the rush of adrenaline and ecstasy. Apparently, Spencer could too.

He worked you until you came shattering apart above him. His name mixed with a loud moan and curses sprinkled in.

When the high had ebbed a bit, he moved you back to sit on his stomach, a wolfish grin on his face. You still felt a bit dazed since there was still a bit of buzz left tingling within you.

You noticed then that your boyfriend was way overdressed.

“It’s time to do something about these,” you mumbled, unbuttoning his dress shirt, “You’ve got too many clothes on.”

He allowed you to pull his shirt off, but his hand grabbed yours just as they reached for his belt.

“I am going to fuck you bent over my desk and only bent over my desk.”

He gave you no time to react as he’d already lifted you in his arms and stood from the bed, heading to the living room.

“Spencer, what? I-”

The words died on your lips as he entered the living room and his desk came into view. Normally, it was stacked neatly with his books, files, paperwork that he needed to complete, pens, pencils, a couple of coffee mugs, the works. But now, it was completely clear, showing off its deep, dark brown, glossy desktop.

Heat pooled in your stomach when you realized he’d planned ahead for this. He’d imagined bending you over his desk, having his way with you. You swallowed back a moan, already eager for him to be buried inside of you.

Instead of immediately pushing you over the edge of the desk, he sat you on top of it, facing him.

You bit your lip, quite literally looking up through your lashes at him. His tongue moved over his lips, his hunger for you apparent as his hands traced every inch of you.

From your breasts, down your stomach, to your thighs and around towards your bottom, squeezing it gently, his hands traveled every part of you before capturing your mouth in another kiss.

It was no innocent kiss. It was fiery and filled with the mutual hunger for one another. He was still kissing you when he slid you off the desktop, your feet touching the floor once again.

He turned you and had you bent over the edge of his desk in a matter of seconds. You heard the clink and whir of his belt as he unbuckled it, the sound alone sending a charge through you.

You shifted impatiently, much to his notice. He smirked, running a hand between your legs teasingly, as he pushed his suit pants out of the way with the other hand.

He wasted no time on gentle and loving movements. He entered you roughly and quite honestly, when you weren’t expecting it.

You whimpered. The feeling of your most intimate parts stretching just enough to accommodate him was one of the best feelings in the world to you. 

By this point, you’d lost the ability to be quiet. He’d already brought you to one earth shattering orgasm and that was after the tantalizing ice foreplay that had turned you on beyond belief.

Your constant moans filled the room as your hands gripped the edges of the desk.

Your hips were tight in his grip as he thrust into you fast and hard, your own body bouncing off his in the opposite direction. He, for one, was much louder than he normally was. Grunts, groans, mumbled curses and pants came from behind you as he had his way with you.

His lips hovered over your neck, his appraising moans ringing in your ears.

“Fucking shit, fuuuck, Y/N,” he groaned before attaching his lips to your neck.

He sucked harshly, hard enough to know that hickies would be present for the next few days.

You inhaled sharply, feeling the slight sting of his teeth bearing down into your shoulder, but coupled with your current pleasure, it was actually hot.

Your back arched as he focused on what he’d learned—quite quickly, you might add—was one of your absolute sweet spots, his hips aiding in thrusting deeply within you.

Spencer’s hand snaked up your spine, tangling in your hair, his fingers wrapping around a few strands. It surprised you when he pulled on it, firm enough to pull your head to the side. You moaned at the sensation, ready for him to do anything at this point. You were so turned on, you were a moaning, whimpering mess underneath him.

“Still. Think. I’m. Vanilla?”

Each of his words were clipped, growled into your ear and enunciated with a forceful thrust.

“No,” you rasped, quickly losing control of yourself and becoming delirious from the ecstasy he was providing you with.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he grunted, halting his movements completely.

You about sobbed in agony, wanting the feel of him back. Your hips automatically moved backwards to get some more friction, but Spencer held them still.

“Tell me,” he groaned, the slight strain in his voice indicating he was struggling with keeping still, himself.

You cursed, craving the delicious sensation of him deep within you again especially since you were on the brink of shattering like broken glass.

“Who’s not vanilla?” Spencer taunted.

He began moving once again, his motions slow and teasing. He slid in and out of you with long, lackadaisical thrusts although he made sure each move was deep enough so you could feel every inch of him within you. 

“Dammit Spencer, please,” you mewled, encircling your hips in small movements.

His low groan that came from above you was telling enough that he was trying and failing to keep his cool.

“Answer me,” he murmured huskily, his lips traveling up your back, hands reaching forward to massage your breasts in his hands.

“Answer me,” he repeated, “And I’ll fuck you like you deserved to be fucked.”

Your mouth dropped, a haggard moan escaping your throat. You weren’t used to hearing Spencer dirty talk and you’d realized that you instantly loved it.

His facial hair scratched your cheek as his mouth moved in the vicinity of it, sucking on your jaw.

“Be a good girl and answer me and I promise I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll see stars, baby girl,” his low whisper came, one hand gliding between your legs, finger ghosting your clit.

“I’ll make you cum harder than you even imagined. Until you’re dripping all over my cock. I wanna fuck my girl, good, Spencer purred.

“Oh my god,” you cried, the overstimulation of his words and his touch finally getting you to lose absolute control of your conscious mind.

“You, Spencer, you,” you moaned.

The only sounds that filled his living room were the mixed moans and the sound of your bodies moving together as he fulfilled his promise and resumed his earlier pace though more erratic this time.

Your inadvertent clenching around him with every move was making him lose control quickly. 

“Fuck, fuuuuck,” you whined, clenching the edges of the desk so hard you knew your hands would be sore later.

In the back of your mind, a small part of you registered that you most likely sounded akin to a pornstar right now, though you didn’t spend much time on the thought. The fire in your veins was igniting the growing pressure in your stomach, like a furnace growing too hot.

It took less than a few moves before you went tumbling over the cliff of ecstasy. Your eyes screwed shut, your vision going completely white behind your closed eyes as you managed out a satisfied, bliss filled cry.

It was like lightning had struck your body except the electricity had come straight from the pit of your belly. Spencer had been right, it was the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced.

It was the body shaking, breathtaking, best kind of high ever, type of intense.

His own had soon followed as you’d tumbled down the rabbit hole of your own delirium. His hands gripped your sides and his body shuddered behind yours.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he groaned repeatedly, still moving with you, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of both of your orgasms.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck as you arched back into him, reaching behind him to grip his hair as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

It took a few moments before both of you stilled, your breathing hard, heart beating wildly. 

When your senses had somewhat turned to normal and the rushing of your blood in your ears had calmed down, you noticed your legs shaking—a definite sign of a good fucking.

You felt his breath on your neck, his breathlessness matching your own. Your body felt slick against his from all of the exertion, but it had been totally worth it. 

Spencer pushed your hair to one side of your neck, burying his face into your neck sweetly before leaving a gentle kiss there.

“My god, Spencer,” you half laughed, trying to focus the tiny bit of energy you had left on attempting to stand.

Disconnecting himself from you, he turned you to face him. He lifted you back on to the desktop to sit, not caring that your thighs were currently slick with the product of his own orgasm. Your quivering legs were thankful for the momentary reprieve though.

“I know,” he smirked, “Didn’t know I had it in me, huh?”

“Definitely not,” you smirked, lifting your face up towards his.

Your lips met his lazily. You spent a few minutes enjoying one other, mouths parting and meeting over and over, enjoying the post coital consequential kisses before getting cleaned up.

His hands splayed over the tops of your thighs, stroking gently. He may have been rough with you earlier, but you knew his gentle touch was him wordlessly assuring himself you were okay.

You were actually more than okay—you had definitely been well fucked.

“Spencer?” you mumbled against his lips.

“Hmm?”

He pulled away from you, his eyes opening, his dreamy, currently hazy, hazel eyes meeting yours. 

“Remind me to never listen to Morgan ever again.”

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[personasintro]

my time | myg drabble

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀; the lack of presence of your boyfriend in your relationship makes you think things that you eventually speak up about

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: fluff, smut, tiny bit of angst

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: oral sex [female receiving], unprotected sex, fingering, edging, car sex, strong language

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.2k

a/n: commissioned by @ninjastef09​, thank you again for doing this!!

𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | ☕️

Yoongi knows something's wrong. Ever since he picked you up from your best friend's house, you barely muttered a single word. The dry greeting that ended up being just simple 'hi' with no kiss made his brows furrow. It's late, he should've been sleeping since he slept four hours in total. But he still texted you and told you he'll pick you up, once you told him you're not home.

But he's not aware of your thoughts. He doesn't know you feel so lonely that your best friend is your solace, instead of him. Regardless of your thoughts, he knows you're not being yourself. You don't text him anymore during his work, not that he liked it that much because you were just a pure distraction. As harsh as it might sound, it's true. He could barely focus on producing, not when you clouded his mind and he regretted waking up so early when you were still sleeping, and him coming home and you were already in bed.

“What's wrong?” he asks, stealing a glance at you before he fully focuses on the road ahead of you.

The passing buildings seems to be much more interesting than your boyfriend. You're so pissed off. He doesn't even know what's wrong with you, he has the audacity to ask you that, when he should know what's been bothering you. This just proves how little he's invested in your relationship.

You think about giving him a silent treatment, he deserves that. You know it'd drive him insane seeing you not responding to him, ignoring him just like he's been ignoring you. Him coming home and stealing a simple kiss to your forehead when he thinks you're still sleeping doesn't show his interest. Interest in you and your relationship. Does he even know how many times you've cried until he came home and you acted like you were asleep? Of course, he doesn't.

All these thoughts just proves you how wrong giving him a silent treatment would be. No, he deserves to see your anger and desperation.

“Wow, you noticed something's wrong?” you ask dryly, dropping a hint of sarcasm in your tone that seems to be so loud. There's no chance he'd just ignore your tone, especially when you've never spoken him this way. There never was a reason to.

Of course, you've bickered before. But it was useless stuff, until his job got more busier and it made your bickering much more serious. Yoongi has always been hardworking person, he loved music and producing it. Fuck, he used to spend his all money on music equipment and all he ate was ramen, that was just enough to fill his empty stomach that was craving for some home food. It changed when he started dating you, he loosened up with the money and spent them mostly on you. Not that you wanted him to do that, but you've always appreciated it. He showed you how important you are to him. Not with buying you something he knew you'd like, but by being present and loving boyfriend. At first, you just thought he's got a busy month ahead of himself, so you let him work. But this has been going on for two months already. You don't even remember when was your last date.

You cook for him, clean your shared apartment, do his laundry and probably much more stuff. You feel like you're his servant or mother, rather than a girlfriend he asked to move in with him just a year ago. You've imaged your relationship and life differently. No matter how many times you tell yourself that you love him and wouldn't change him, you can't keep pretending that this is okay. Because it's not.

“Babe,” he sighs, stopping on the red light that makes you curse because you know his full attention will be on you.

When he turns his body to you and watches you, you mentally curse while you refuse to look at him.

“Why are you mad?”

Wishing you could strangle him, you let out a sarcastic scoff. Why the hell does he sound so soft and worried? You hate how easily he can break your walls, but you can't let him to do this now. No, he deserves to know.

“Mad?” you ask, scoffing once again while you try not to let the tears appear. Looking at him, you regret doing that the second you lay your eyes on him. His brows are raised in a curiosity and cute manner, his mouth slightly pouted without him even realizing he's doing it. “I'm not mad, Yoongi.” you shake your head.

Okay, you might look mad and ready to strangle him, but you feel mostly a different emotion. It's worse than anger, and fuck, you wish you could be angry instead of being so sad.

“I'm hurt and sad.” you admit, your voice cracking as you quickly look through his tinted windows instead of his face.

“Oh, baby,” he lets out a sad whine, putting his car into drive when there's a green light. “Why are you sad and hurt?” he asks, annoyed that he can't touch you and fully look at you.

“You should know,” you tell him quietly, regretting how quickly you let your guard down and you're ready to cry. You're so weak when it comes to him. “It's your fault.” you murmur, feeling a pang of regret in your chest from saying it straight to his face.

No, he deserves it. You tell yourself.

“What? What have I done?” he asks, sounding defensive all of a sudden and just like that, all your regret is gone and you glare at him. “Let's talk about this at home.” he adds, and has the audacity to sigh and sound tired from your conversation.

It angers you. It kicks your sadness away and you grow defensive as well. “No. Let's talk about this now.” you insist, not letting your eyes drop off him as he frowns at the road.

“I'm driving, babe.” he reminds you.

“You can't drive and talk at the same time all of a sudden?” you push, knowing you're just pushing his buttons and it's just a matter of time when he'll snap.

Yoongi is a very patient man, but not when it comes to you and sarcasm in the same scenario.

“Y/N,” he warns you, his tone dropping lower as he dares you to provoke him any further.

But you just let out a laugh, but it doesn't sound sweet and cheerful like he's used to. It sounds empty and evil instead.

“Don't Y/N me,” you snap, “The fact you don't even realize what you've done pisses me off so fucking much. You're so ignorant these days, who even are you?”

Even though your voice is angry and loud, your heart hammers in your chest so quickly. Something in Yoongi snaps as he takes a sharp turn and drives for a minute before he parks into some dark alley. Thank God for having your seat belt on, you'd be kissing the windscreen if you weren't.

“Okay, I'm done with your bullshit. Tell me what the fuck is going on in that pretty head of yours. You wanted to talk, so talk.” he spits, aggressively taking off his seat belt as he fully turns to you.

Almost stuttering at his current state, you've never expected him to get this worked up over your little outburst. Honestly, you thought it'd take much more provoking to make him finally snap. Maybe it's the tiredness in his eyes and the dark circles underneath them that contrasts with his beautiful pale skin. It breaks your heart to see him this way.

Not wanting to dance around the subject, you take a shaky breath before you look down onto your lap. Your fingers fumble together while Yoongi patiently waits for you to do something, to speak up. He's not making this easier for you by being silent while glaring at you. You can feel his eyes boring into the side of your face. Mustering the strength and courage, you look at him and his eyes soften immediately at the sight of your watery ones.

You've prepared the whole speech about how tiring this relationship has become, plus countless other stuff that you wanted to yell into his face. So much frustration has collected inside of you, and you could imagined yourself telling him everything. But now, it seems impossible as you open your mouth and let out a simple;

“I miss you,” And your voice cracks, embarrassing you even more. However, Yoongi doesn't feel any embarrassment in the air. He feels his own heart to crack at your tone and the tears in your eyes, and he knows you weren't just provoking him and had one of your moods. To be honest, he thought it's that day in the month that makes you moodier than usual. “Do you even want to be with me?”

You look at him, wanting to see his expression when you say that and you're not disappointed. His brows shoot up in shock, before he opens his mouth and shakes his head. “Why would you even think that? Of course, I want to be with you.” he exclaims.

“I don't get to see you often, you're so busy with your work all the time. I know you've got a lot on your plate right now. But I feel like our relationship is not what it used to be. You come home late, wake up so early that I don't even get to say good morning to you. We barely talk about our days and how it went... I miss talking to you, being close to you.”

Spilling your heart at him, you see him sucking in a breath before he lets out a low sigh. He rubs his eyes for a few seconds, showing his tiredness again. “I know I've been busier lately, and I'm sorry you feel this way. But I'm not doing it for free, I'm doing it for us so we get to have a better life.”

“Our relationship is more important than money!” you exclaim frustratingly.

“I've never said it's not!” he exclaims back, chest heaving as he sighs and calms down when he sees your widened eyes. “I'm doing this because you're important. I wanna give you everything.” he tells you more calmly, frown still settled on his porcelain face.

His words put a slight ease to your soul. He just told you, you're important and he wants to give you everything. But it seems like he's missing the point of this conversation.

“But all I want is you,” you mutter. “Do you even want to be with me?”

“For fucks sake, of course I wanna be with you!” he exclaims, growing annoyed that you even think for a second he doesn't.

“Don't yell at me!” you exclaim back, groaning before you shake your head and look away from him. Why is he the one getting flustered?

“Don't say stupid stuff!” He raises his voice again and you gape at him.

“Stupid? Those aren't stupid--”

“Get in the back.” he snaps, clenching his jaw while he looks around, almost as if he's searching for something.

“What?” you breathe out, looking around too.

There's not a single soul around. You're parked in some dirty alley where there's nothing but dirt on the pavement. Too busy mirroring Yoongi's action, you don't notice his sharp eyes and the roll of eyes he gives you when he sees you don't listen to him.

So fucking stubborn, he thinks and pushes a chuckle away.

“Get in the back. Now,” he demands, your eyes shifting to him as you raise a brow at him. “Fuck, woman. Just listen to me for once, because God help me--”

“Okay, okay. There's no need to get pissy.” you mutter, shoving your body between the front seats before you're making your way to the back.

Yoongi doesn't appreciate your constant remarks and the fact you're suddenly making fun of him, instead of being angry. Flustered with your mood swings and just because he can, he slaps your ass that makes you yelp and sit down onto the back seats.

“What was that for?” you ask in disbelief, eyes big and focused on your boyfriend that mimics your action and tries to get to you. It's harder for him, but with a little bit of struggle, he successfully plops next to you.

He ignores your question, not bothering to answer before he motions for you to lay down. Growing confused, you wonder if he's about to do what you're thinking about. It makes sense, him sending you in the back and checking if there's anyone around.

“You want to have sex? Here? Right now?”

“Hush,” he shushes you, glaring at you. “I gotta show you what you mean to me.”

His words sparkle a huge interest and excitement inside of you, and you're quick to listen to his words and making yourself comfortable. It's not as comfortable as your huge bed, but it'll do. He smirks, hovering over you for a few seconds before he kisses the tip of your nose. His fingers hook underneath the hem of your jeans, taking them off with a curse leaving his mouth when they get stuck at your curves.

“Your damn curves.” he jokes, staring at you amusingly as you dramatically open your mouth and let out a sigh.

“You love my curves!” you exclaim, seeing him nodding.

“Of course, I do. I love every inch of you.” he admits softly, your heart jumping at his honest and loving words.

You help him taking off your jeans, laughing when he bumps his head and he gives you a sheepish grin in response before he's tugging your panties. Cold air meets your exposed skin, making you shiver and your caring boyfriend notices it. Rubbing your sides to warm up your skin, he gives a soft smooch to your ankle before he spreads your legs and gives you a cocky smirk.

“Don't worry, baby girl. I'll warm you up.” he promises, your breath hitching in your throat.

You know he's right. He's about to make your skin hot.

“Yoongi,” you whine, spreading your legs as much as the space allows you, you wish he'd just touch you straight away. “Please touch me.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” he muses, grin audible in his voice. If you weren't so desperate for his touch, you'd roll your eyes at his cockiness. He always gets like this. It's his man pride that makes him incredibly cocky and proud that you're needy for him.

He barely fits in the back of his car, with you in there sprawled for him, but he makes it work somehow. With his thumb brushing against your inner thigh, you let out a soft gasp. He's so close to your heat, where you need him the most. Shivering at the coolness of the air and Yoongi's gentle touch, another gasp leaves your mouth when Yoongi cups your heat.

“Mhm, you really missed me.” he comments, eyes sprinkled with amusement and darkness at the same time glancing up at you.

With Yoongi's lack of presence in your shared apartment, it easily meant he barely touched you. Sometimes, you wondered if he doesn't miss sex. The thought of him having someone else crossed your mind, but you quickly slapped that thought out of yourself. There's no way Yoongi would ever cheat on you. Not that you only missed the sex with him, you needed him to be close to you. To kiss you and actually spend his time with you, not locked in his studio.

He strokes your heat, spreading your juices all over you before he starts to give a gentle circles to your clit. Whimpering underneath his touch, he seems almost fascinated how much you're craving for him. Eyes flickering to your squirming body, he enters you with his one finger and curses underneath his breath when he feels the softness of your walls and how they clench around him.

“Oh, fuck.” he mutters, dipping his head between your legs as he starts kissing your clit. He peppers it with soft kisses and licks, while your stomach flutters with incredible pleasure.

Adding another finger, you're left moaning shamelessly at the sudden stretch. Pumping them inside of you, his eyes don't budge at the sight of them disappearing inside your tight hole. Running your fingers through his soft hair, you gasp his name. He can feel you tightening around him, your breaths getting quicker and he knows these are the signs of your approaching orgasm. He realizes you not only missed him, but you missed his touch. He's barely touching you and you're already ready to let go and reach your high. He neglected you and he feels so fucking bad because of it. Having this on his mind, he adds another finger and keeps repeating the same process, until four of his fingers are nestled inside of you and rub your walls.

Back arched just for your boyfriend, your reactions are too easy for him to read and when his name leaves your mouth every few seconds, your heat grinding against his face, he knows you're ready to cum. And he stops.

What. The. Fuck.

Your eyes snap open, met with ceiling of a car while your whole body drops in a disappointment. Brain quickly processing his action, you plop yourself onto your elbows and look at your boyfriend who's already looking at you with unreadable gaze. Not liking what he's just done, you frown with a look of confusion spreading on your flushed face.

“You thought I don't wanna be with you?” he asks, his own brows frowning at the memory of you saying that. However, he doesn't wait for your response because his intention has never been to get one. No, he wants you to know why he stooped. He pulls away and a look of distress crosses your features, causing him to chuckle as his palms rub your thighs.

There are so any questions invading your mind.

Why did he stop?

Why is he bringing that up right now?

Is he insane?

But not one single word resounds from your slightly open mouth, all you can do is watch him silently. Your eyes burn with interest when he completely pulls away, body uncomfortably crouched between the seats and the roof. His hands go towards his casual black sweatpants, the ones he's wearing to the studio all the time because it's much more comfortable. Especially when he spends hours there, sometimes even sleeps on the small black leather couch that's not very comfortable. Tugging them down along with his boxers, he takes them off and throws his sneakers to the front. You're met with alluring eyes before he hovers over you, gazing directly into your eyes from close. It's the work of a second before he leans in, and you feel his soft lips against yours. Bringing his hand to cup your face, he kisses you with much more passion but decides to pull away. Whining, you stare at him and silently ask him what the hell is he doing. All he gives you in return is a lick of his bottom lip while he smirks at you.

“Turn around, baby girl.”

Giving him a skeptical look, you do as you're being told and Yoongi chants in his head at your obedience. You listen to him, for once. Thank God.

Pulling you on all fours, you hear him shuffle behind you before you notice flying shirt from the corner of your eyes. Tossing it to the front with the rest of his clothing, you wish you could see him. His dick brushes against your wetness, earning a loud gasp from you as you arch for him.

“I want to see you.” you whine, not liking that all you see is the leather of his expensive car seats. Your hands are already getting sweaty, slowly sticking to the black leather. You can't believe you're about to have sex in a car. Surprisingly, you've never done that and when your argument started, you never thought it could end up like this.

Yoongi smiles, caressing your back while he dips his fingers between your legs and rubs your clit. Jerking, you press your forehead against the window while the tinted glass is getting steamy.

“I know,” he says, “But that's what you get for thinking such stupid things.” Is all he says, before he easily shuts your mouth with his tip against your entrance.

Pursing your ass into the air, urging him to finally enter you, he doesn't waste time with teasing you. Just like he already said; he misses you too. The gasps that echoes from your mouth and in the car, is enough to make your boyfriend proud. He enters you slowly, taking into consideration that it's been awhile since he was inside you. But once he's fully nestled against your tender walls, he kisses your skin where his position allows him to which ends up being the space between your shoulders blades. Hands on your hips, he angles your ass for a better position and you both groan at the deeper feeling. He pulls out, smashing his hips against your ass right away while you writhe on your spot. The pace he sets isn't as soft as his previous touches were, but you're not complaining. Even when your forehead bumps against the window couple of times, causing Yoongi to apologize but not slowing down for a second. You don't want him to, he feels too good to stop this.

Yoongi grunts when he already feels you tightening around him, all while he's pounding into you. “Are you cumming?” he asks breathlessly, his own hair sticking to his forehead while his body burns with heat and sweat.

“Yes!” you moan, feeling your knees shake. You feel him everywhere, now just inside of you but even the way his fingernails dig into your hips feels insane. “So good!” you moan, forehead bumping against the window again, but you ignore the pain and focus on Yoongi's thrusts.

Just when your eyes roll back and entire body shudders against Yoongi's, ready to let out the tension in your womb, all disappears in seconds. Breaths fanning against the foggy window, your hands shake as you whine. “Yoongi.”

He stopped again.

You feel him scooting closer to you, pressing his chest against your sweaty back as he moves the hair out of your face. He kisses your cheek, nudging his nose against your cheekbone before he licks his lips. “I don't want you ever to think that I don't want you. You're all I want and need.” he says.

The conversation needs to happen when all of this is done, you still have to talk about this more maturely. However, the regret and sadness in Yoongi's voice doesn't go unnoticed by you and even if he tries to sound tough and firm, you know it broke his heart to hear you saying those things. He's not mad at you, he understands the trail of your thoughts and what places they went because of him and his busy schedule. But now, all you can do is give him a couple of nods to assure him that you won't say those stuff again.

When he sees the nod that you give him, he sets the same ruthless and shallow pounding. Grunts heard behind you just makes you clench around him even more, knowing he missed you just the same. You can feel it through his touch and how he doesn't want to let you go, almost as if he fears you'd fade away any second.

“Yoongi,” you whine, the same bubbly feeling of pleasure and tension flowing through your entire body.

“Y/N,” he grunts back.

It's something about his voice that makes you go feral, letting go of that tension as you let the orgasm taking over your body. Your whole body shakes underneath Yoongi's hands, but he holds you even closer while he helps to ride you through your orgasm. He increases his pace, stroking your back while you're mewling from the overstimulation.

“I know, I know. I'm almost there, baby.” he grunts, pounding into you while his breath comes in harsh pants.

Clenching around him, his thrusts become more sloppy before his hips jerk and he's cumming inside you. With his length twitching inside, you moan at the feeling of fullness and his warm cum coating your sensitive walls. Yoongi collapses onto you, sweaty forehead sticking to your shoulder as your skin meets his warm breath.

When the two of you calm down from your highs, he helps you to sit down and find comfortable position. Your legs shake but finally, you manage to sit down and let your back and head rest against the seat.

“Oh my god,” Yoongi gasps, snapping your eyes open as you look at him. He scoots closer to him, touching your forehead gently. “You've got a mark here.” he chuckles, kissing the red mark that the window and Yoongi's thrusts caused.

“It's your fault!” you exclaim, fingers rubbing the red and sensitive skin.

He chuckles at the sight of your cute frown, his hands slowly caressing your exposed thigh before he dips his hand between your legs. You watch him, eyes wide and filled with interest while he touches your sensitive heat and your mixed cum. You whine, causing him to pull his hand away but not before he makes sure his fingers are coated with your and his cum. You stare at his long fingers, glistening as white cum slowly drips down them and his veiny hand. Fuck, you love his hands. Admiring them, you're completely shocked when he does something he has never done before. He puts them in his mouth, lips wrapping around those long digits as he sucks on them. His eyes roll back, a low moan rippling from his throat as he tastes you and himself. Eyes opening slowly, he stares directly at you while he pulls your fingers and fuck, the sight is absolutely stunning.

“I'm sorry.” he says, acting as if he wasn't tasting your mixed cum just a second ago.

“It's just a mark. It'll fade away, I've had worse and they faded away eventually.” you tease, wiggling your brows at him. It's not like your skin was never covered in love bites and marks of Yoongi's mouth and hands.

He chuckles, but softly shakes his head. “I wasn't talking about that, although, I'm sorry about that too.” A soft smile spreads onto his lips as he smiles at you, but it slowly fades away as he takes your hands into his and interweaves your fingers.

They're soft just like you remember them, and you almost tear at that thought. You've missed his touch so much.

“I'm sorry for not spending time with you, for neglecting you because fuck... trust me, you don't deserve that and none of that is your fault. It's my fault. I got so obsessed with my work that I forgot what's waiting for me at home.” he tells you, cupping your face before he kisses you.

Forehead pressed against yours, he breathes your scent in and you almost scold him for that, knowing you probably smell like sweat and sex. Fuck, the whole car smells like it.

“I just thought you don't want me anymore.” you admit quietly.

“Please don't say that. I love you and of course, I want to be with you. I'll do better, I promise. I won't be overworking myself anymore.” he promises, causing you to smile.

“Promise?” you ask.

“Promise,” he says sternly, still giving you a smile. “You're my time from now on. You always were and always should be. I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner.” he apologizes.

It touches your heart because you can hear and feel the sincerity behind every word he says.

“My time,” you smile, “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” he agrees, pressing another kiss to your lips and the tip of your nose.

“As much as I love and appreciate this moment, but I'm getting cold and your cum runs down my thighs.” you comment, causing him to snort before he pulls himself away and stares at your lap.

“Oh, fuck. We'll never get that off!” he exclaims, eyes laced with disappointment while he sees the white cum on his leather seats.

You raise your brow, frowning at your boyfriend who gives you a sheepish grin. “Let's get dressed and go home. I'm not done with you.”

And maybe you do it too eagerly, because as soon as you're ready to gather your jeans and panties, you bump your head against the roof. Yoongi laughs, watching you trying to dress up before you successfully sit at the passenger seat. When it's Yoongi's turn to sit on his previous spot, you're too busy checking out the mark on your forehead that's still there, his loud voice booms inside the car.

“Fuck!” you turn around, finding him rubbing the top of his head and cursing at the roof.

Well, that's what he gets for laughing at you. You think before small giggle turns into a raspy laugh shaking your whole body.

The car fills with your and Yoongi's laughter, the two of you getting bruised as the result of your actions. Regardless of the bumps on the top of your heads and your red forehead, you wouldn't change anything. Yoongi's hand clutching yours the entire ride is the assurance you needed. His thumb caresses the back of your hand and he even brings it to his mouth, giving it a soft but intense smooch every now and then. It makes your heart flutter and cry from all the love at the same time.

And when he told you that you're his time, you never thought he'd take it so seriously. But he did and he's coming home early, making sure you've got enough time for your little dates and even if it's just watching movies and doing nothing, he's there with you. Laughing, cuddling, kissing and making love to you.

You're his time, after all.

[nightjung]

𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱

jaehyun x reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol

a/n: happy halloween my spooky hoes!! stay safe, distance, but please refrain from partying in general. luv yall <3

It was a chilly night, kids were out asking for candy, alcohol-drained college students were satisfying their thirst, and then there was you and Jaehyun. His hands on your waist, the tense hold of his palms grasping your body craving for your warmth, and his lips gently pressed to yours with his tongue exploring the walls of your mouth. 

You tug at the strands of his hair, pushing him away to bring his lips to your neck, “We...we should get...g-going,” you choke out. 

“I’d rather stay in with you,” Jaehyun mumbles through the small bites he litters on your pretty neck. 

“We promised Jungwoo we’d be there,” you moan when Jaehyun licks a strip up to your ear.

It was true, Jungwoo really wanted to be Buzz Lightyear and had the glorious idea of you and Jaehyun dressing up as Sheriff Woody and Jessie, plus Jaehyun already had the costume thanks to his MC position. 

Tonight, Jaehyun only came over to get ready and try to fuck you, but he wanted to cherish the little amount of alone time he has with you because of the little time he has. You had your own apartment so he wanted to be alone with you, it gave him time to breathe, but it didn’t help when he was so horny for you all the time. 

Jaehyun stops and rests his head on your shoulder, chuckling into your neck, “okay, okay, let's go.” 

The party started out big, with all 23 members in the small 10th-floor apartment, but as the night got old, younger members left, leaving the night for the ones old enough to drink. Both Jaehyun and you sit on the couch, you in his embrace as his arm drapes around your body. You two laugh at Mark and Haechan drunk argue, something about them dressed up as Patrick and Spongebob and yelling at who stole whose drink was amusing. Everyone else was either knocked out drunk on the floor, in their beds, or on the tables. It was just the four of you up and only half sober. You had to drive back to your apartment and Jaehyun had to get up to film the next day, but nonetheless, it was a fun night. 

“I should go,” you smile up at your boyfriend.

Jaehyun’s forehead creases, “it’s getting late, you sure you don’t want to stay for the night?” 

You looked at the time on your phone, it was getting late, but nothing beats a night like sleeping in your own bed. Jaehyun’s bed was also tiny, but then again he finally put some bedsheets on thanks to your nagging. As you dwelled in your thoughts, Jaehyun played with the large silver buttons on your costume, admiring the features of your face as you debated which option was more attractive. 

Your breath hitched when Jaehyun popped the first button open and placed his hands against your skin, something about his large hands skimming over your warm skin was comforting. You closed your eyes in satisfaction when he gently wrapped his hand over your neck, giving it gentle squeezes. 

“God you’re always horny,” you sigh.

“Guys!” Haechan yelled, you snapped your eyes open and Jaehyun snickered at your flustered state, “take it to the room, Jungwoo’s knocked out on the kitchen table. Just do your business elsewhere,” the younger grumbled at you two. 

Jaehyun raised a brow, silently telling you that his offer still stands. You playfully rolled your eyes and let him drag you to his bedroom. It didn’t take long, the second you walked in Jaehyun pushed you against the door, his body pressed against yours, and his lips rough on yours as he locked the door. 

“Goodness, I’ve been waiting for this the entire night,” Jaehyun murmurs between kisses as his hands stay busy, stripping you from your tight costume, “you couldn’t have picked an easier costume? Should’ve gone for fucking Bo-Peep or something.”

“Stop,” you whine, tossing his hat to the floor, “we were cute,” you say as you begin to undress him. 

“I guess we were,” you felt him smirk as he ripped your top off, revealing your chest. 

You slapped his chest, “Jaehyun! Costumes are expensive for a one-time wear.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you something better next year,” he eyes, his hands tugging the hem of your pants, “something sexier.” 

“...Oh,” you inhale a sharp breath as he pulls your pants and panties down, “okay,” you shudder when you felt his hot breath on your core.

Jaehyun grins at your aroused frustration, he thinks you’re so pretty, always beautiful, yet so patient and understanding of him. He was the boyfriend that was always busy, always called late, and sometimes even forgot to call, or always falling asleep first on FaceTime. He was so happy that you were so understanding and loving of him, here you were, all dressed up with him on Halloween. 

“God you’re so beautiful,” he holds on your hand, guiding you to his bed. 

You thin your lips, preventing you from breaking into a shy smile and you hope he doesn’t notice it but he does. Jaehyun chuckles as he completely strips himself as you sit on his bed, you can feel your essence already staining his sheets as he unclothes himself. He does it slowly like he’s putting on a show for you and he knows you enjoy this type of shit and he finds your reaction entertaining. 

As soon as Jaehyun throws his last article of clothing onto the floor, you pull him to you, “you’re such a fucking tease,” you don’t bother to take it slow, immediately swirling your tongue around his. 

It was rare to have this kind of sex with him, he was always soft and caring, but something about him in that stupid costume made you feel intoxicated. 

“Who’s horny now?” Jaehyun chuckles, gently pushing you down until your back meets his bed. 

“Shut up and just fuck me. You always leave me high and dry whenever you come over and just sleep,” you rasped. 

Jaehyun teasingly pouts at you, but his actions are contradicting as he gently presses his fingertips on your clit, tracing long infinity signs in the slowest way possible. You gasp and grab his arm for leverage as he coats his fingers in your essence, later sucking your juices off his long, pretty, fingers. When he inserts two fingers, your back arches until you can see stars. 

“O-oh shit,” you breathe out when his fingers curl, the tips firmly pressing against your sweet spot. 

Once Jaehyun knows your body is ready for him, he takes out his fingers and sticks them in his mouth, releasing a ‘pop’ when he finishes it off like a lollipop. You gulp when you get a glance of the filthy act and his veiny cock, the member throbbing by the second against his toned abdominal. With precum dripping from his tip, he coats his thick cock with your essence and you release a loud sigh when his cock moves among your slit. It only takes a short amount of time until Jaehyun thrusts into you. You grasp his shoulder as he lets out a groan in your ear when he pushes himself deeper into you. 

“So fucking tight, so fucking mine,” Jaehyun fastens the pace in which he thrusts, making you moan out louder and louder for all his knocked out members to hear, “let them. Let them hear who makes you feel this good.” 

You quiver at his vulgar remark, you can almost taste the relief at the tip of your tongue that’s now dancing with Jaehyun’s. It’s the knot in your stomach that tightens, it’s the lethargy way your toes curl, and it’s the way Jaehyun’s words sound like the sweetest poems to your ears. 

“I’m close,” you whisper, but immediately whine when Jaehyun suddenly pulls out, the empty feeling and cold air pooling at your womanhood, “Jaehyun,” you prop yourself on your elbows when he stands up and offers his hand.

“Ride me,” Jaehyun says, his chest heaves as you glance at the tall male, the moonlight from the window behind him hitting his back.

You place your hand carefully in his as you two switch places, due to the lack of room. You hadn’t actually ridden him that much, but it’s nothing you’re scared of doing, you know he likes what you do. With your hands splayed on his broad chest, you slowly sink yourself on his cock, feeling every inch that pleases your walls. Jaehyun lets out a groan at the sight of his cock disappearing into your pussy, so beautiful, so raw, so intimate. You drive your hips against him, chasing your climax as Jaehyun unclips your bra, letting the lingerie scatter somewhere on the floor. He brings his one hand on your breast and rests the other on your ass, patting it. 

You drop your head back, letting the feeling of his cock rapidly thrusting into you and his hands feeling every exposed inch of your skin. You hum when his tip hits that far spot that shoots pleasure to your spine and he groans when he sees your breasts bouncing as you thrust after your climax. 

“You close?” Jaehyun slaps your ass. 

You whimper, feeling the beads of sweat fall from your temples and gather at the base of your neck and chest. You’re completely sober but everything that you feel is elevated to the highest level.  

“Then cum for me, baby. Let the entire building know who fucks you so, so well. You’re such a slutty baby, so needy for me and my cock,” Jaehyun knows the effect he has with his words, it drives you insane, frenzied, and he knows you’re close when he can feel your walls beginning to pulsate. 

With only a few more thrusts, a choked cry escapes your lips as you reach your climax, the overwhelming feeling of pleasure overtaking your body. Your body jerks from the signs of satisfaction and your sex clenches as you shut your eyes tight as Jaehyun comes in you, the warm liquid of his cum filling you up to the brim. You can almost feel it dripping out of you onto the base of his softening cock. 

“God you’re so good, so fucking good,” Jaehyun chuckles as your body falls limp on top of his, he comfortably strokes your hair, “love you, cowgirl.”

You wince at the name he gives you, “please don’t ever call me that ever again.”

“Why” His laugh vibrates both of your bodies, his chest full of breath and laughter, “it’s cute.” 

“No, it’s not,” you bury your face in his chest, hearing the relaxing beat of his heart. 

Before Jaehyun can speak up again, you’re both caught off guard by the door being harshly pushed open. Your eyes peel open at the sight of Jungwoo walking into the room with half of his costume on and plopping himself right on his bed. He doesn’t even glance at the two of your naked bodies on top of each other across the room because he’s so tired, alcohol taking over his body. 

“What? How did you-?” 

“With a card,” Jungwoo drags out his reply to his roommate who lays below you in surprise. 

Jaehyun chuckles, it’s been a recurring event where he always locks the door whenever you come over and since you two always end up knocking out, it leaves Jungwoo bedless for the night. Therefore, he uses a card from now on to unlock the door and get in himself. 

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” Jaehyun kisses your temple as he gently pushes you off to lay on your back and runs for a tissue. 

He takes care of your body lovingly kissing each limb, saving your lips for last. Once he finishes cleaning himself up, he climbs in bed with you, who’s out cold, and brings your body close to his, feeling how perfectly your body molds with his. 

[literaila]

this little secret of mine

spencer reid x reader

request: Can I request a fic Reid x Reader where the reader has a chronic illness (Im having a flare up an I'm emotional, and having surgery Friday lol) and just kinda anything you feel around that, that the first conversation about it, insecurity whatever you feel, I love angst as well so feel free to load it with that x 

a/n: i’m so sorry if there is any incorrect information. i tried to do my very best with research, but i will admit it might not be as accurate as it seems. if theres anything that needs to be changed just let me know.

warning: mentions of blood, needles, fainting, chronic pain, drugs, shit writing, a little angsty, and fighting

It was supposed to be a secret. 

She hadn't mentioned anything during her interview. 

And she still hadn't. 

Because it was meant to be a secret, one that none of them had to find out about. It was just supposed to be a secret. 

But when everything in your body was aching with every breath, with every blink you made, when you felt like you were on fire at just the thought of standing up, of just getting up, when that was happening, secrets were hard to keep. 

That didn't mean Y/N said anything. 

She felt extremely exhausted. Like fatigue was a stalker following her, refusing to leave her side at any given moment. 

There was no prison you could lock fatigue in. 

Sometimes, she could barely keep her eyes open, could barely think enough to remember to breathe. Sometimes, it was too much. 

She never said anything. 

But there were signs, little things she always did when it was worse when the pain was so unbelievably intense, there were little things she just couldn't keep hidden. 

Like the headaches, the constant medication she was taking for them, the moments where she felt like her head was going to break open because of the stabbing pain hidden behind her eyes. There was the slow way she always got up, the wince on her face when she moved, the slow and deliberate movements she couldn't go without. There was the pain that seemed to last for hours after she simply knocked her knee against her desk. 

And those were just the things she couldn't keep a secret. The signs that didn't go unnoticed. 

Everyone else always seemed to notice. 

There were constant questions of “are you okay?” that came her way and made her wonder if one of them knew if one of them had finally found out, the constant questions that always turned out to be false alarms. 

Sometimes one of them looked at her weird, sometimes she noticed the extra confusion in their gazes when they watched her stand up, or noticed her taking pain medication for the third time that day. 

She was very fortunate all of them seemed to understand that she didn't want to talk about it. She was very lucky that she had such great friends. 

She was very lucky no one knew. 

No one knew. 

It was only getting harder. 

As Y/N felt her joints getting stiffer, felt her headaches become longer, felt the fatigue weighing her down, as she felt her body start to collapse under itself, she knew that the secret would have to end. 

But she didn't want it to. It wasn't fair that she couldn't have this one thing, that she had to deal with this every day. 

It wasn't fair. 

It wasn't fair that she had to hide behind a brave face. 

It wasn't fair that she had to cancel. 

She had to cancel. 

It had been two years. Two insane years of no one knowing, of no one saying anything about the pain that rattled her body, it had been two years with the team, two years getting to know them, two years and she had gotten so close to all of them. 

It had been two years with Spencer. 

They were having their first date. 

They were having their first date.

He had asked her out on a date. 

After two years. Two years of looking across the room for him, of wrapping her arms around his neck when he was sitting at his desk, two years of being surprised by every magic trick he’d pulled out to impress her, two years of getting him coffee and a sweet, two years of sitting next to him on the plane so she could stare at him longer, two years of staring at him hopelessly. 

She’d been in love with him, and his caring way of looking at things, and the knowledge he kept stored up in his brain. She’d been in love with him so for long it felt like a lifetime. But never had she expected him to ask her out on a date, she figured if ever, she would break and ask him. 

But she hadn't. 

And he had.

It had been two years. 

And he’d asked her out on a date. 

“According to relationship experts, you should wait two months before asking someone out,” Spencer said. 

They were sitting in a tiny cafe, both enjoying a cup of coffee. It was their day off, and like most days off, they were spending it together. They’d developed a habit of driving around and going to new places together. 

Y/N was sipping on her coffee thinking about where to go next when Spencer suddenly spoke up. She looked up at him confused. “What?” she asked, her eyes wide, her cup of coffee stilled her in her hand as she waited for him to continue, as he usually did. 

“No- I mean- It's socially acceptable to broach the subject of dating after two months, but actually in most cases, it happens sooner… it really depends on how much time you spend with that person and-” he stopped, pausing his hands that had been gesturing in front of him as he stared at Y/N. 

“What?” she repeated. Spencer stayed silent, his eyes were darting around the room, and he seemed to be lost in thought. After a few moments, Y/N tried again. “Spencer? Why’d you bring this up?” 

Spencer shook his head and looked back into her eyes, seeming to be pulled out of his gaze at her words. 

“I think I waited too long,” he said. 

“Too long for what?” Y/N asked, still not getting the point. 

“To ask you out.” Y/N’s heart jumped at the words, her body exploding at the surprise she felt surge through her. “We spend almost every day together. And it's been two years.” Spencer continued a small smile on his face at the memory. 

Y/N sat there, her coffee still in her hand, staring at him. 

“I’m hoping it's not too late?” Spencer asked, still looking at her with now bright eyes. 

Y/N just stared at him. 

He frowned. 

And she laughed. 

She laughed at him and nodded her head, bringing her coffee up to her lips. 

And he smiled. 

“You’ll go out with me?” he asked, his eyes bright again, dimples popping up on his cheeks. 

And she nodded again. 

And now she was stuck in a daze. Her pain was chipping at her, keeping her from getting off the couch, she barely had the energy to breathe, barely had the energy to do anything except stare at her ceiling. 

She wished it would go away. 

She didn't want to tell him. She didn't want him to know, she didn't want his pity, didn't want to have the conversation, she didn't want any of it. 

She was going to have to cancel. 

She couldn't force herself to get up, which meant it would be impossible for her to get ready, impossible to sit in a restaurant and pretend to smile and pretend that just picking up her fork didn't make her want to scream out in agony. 

She hated this. She hated all of it. 

She felt like crying, like curling up and sobbing until she couldn't hear anything else except for the silence in her mind. She felt like spilling some tears for the miserable state she was in, but she didn't think she could move, she didn't think she had the energy to even close her eyes. 

She had to call him. 

She had to call and tell him, tell him that she couldn't go, that she was sick, that she thought it was the flu, that she had to cancel on their first date, that she couldn't go. 

She wanted to scream. 

It took multiple moments of deep breaths, of reminding herself she could do this, it took extra motivation to grab her phone on the coffee table next to her. She felt useless, felt like she was some fragile thing that wasn't to be bothered with. 

She wanted to text him. Wanted to avoid the sound of his voice, the disappointment she could already hear, she wanted to just get the words out and not have to talk to him. 

She didn't think she could move her fingers enough to text him. 

Her phone rang, and she waited for him to answer. 

The phone clicked and she heard a quiet “Helloo?”

If she didn't feel like she was going to pass out she would’ve laughed. 

“Spencer?” she said, quiet and slow. She felt already out of breath at just the one word. 

“Y/N? Is there something wrong?” 

And at that moment she wanted to tell him, she wanted him to come over and hold her close and cuddle her until she could finally fall asleep. She wanted him to be with her, and she wanted to listen to his voice, and she just wanted to feel better. 

She swallowed and then began to explain. “I don't think I can come… tonight.” Her jaw felt tight at the words, and no matter how hard she was trying she couldn't relax her face. 

“Oh.” 

Just one word. Just enough to make her feel horrible. 

She took a deep breath and urged herself to continue. “I.. don't feel... So good.” 

Just speaking was exhausting her, just breathing was causing her chest to tighten up, she hoped she would fall asleep soon. 

“Are you alright? What's going on?” he asked urgently, and Y/N could hear him stop whatever he was doing in the background. 

What was going on? What could she say to him? 

“I…” she gasped in the air that was pushing on her chest “caught something.” 

Spencer didn't say anything so she continued, “I’m sorry… Spencer.” 

And that was all she could say. Exhaustion took over, and she didn't hear anything else before she closed her eyes. 

At least asleep she wouldn't feel guilty. 

She was still sleeping when Spencer walked into her apartment. 

She hadn't heard him knocking on the door, too deep in her exhaustion to notice anything. 

And Spencer was worried. He was always worried about her, worried she would get hurt, get herself hurt, was always worried that something would happen to her, to the girl he loved. But it was different this time, she hadn't even stayed on the phone long enough to tell him what had happened. 

He couldn't just leave it at that. 

He had to make sure that she was alright, that nothing bad had happened in the time between the silence over the phone and Spencer showing up at her apartment. 

He had knocked, knocked, and called her name, but when she hadn't answered he felt himself become more worried, even sick Y/N could’ve called out to him. So he used the key she’d given him, telling him that someday he might need it, and he walked into her apartment. 

What he hadn't expected was to see her sleeping on the couch, find, but pale with dark circles under her eyes. 

She looked especially drained. 

A tiny part of him was glad that she wasn't just trying to get out of their date, that she didn't just not want to go, but the other part of him was still immensely worried, and his brain immediately started racking up the things that she could be sick with. 

He let her sleep some more. Listening to her labored breathing, watching her chest rise and fall as he thought of which viruses were going around. 

She had sounded terrible on the phone. 

He walked around her small apartment for a little while, thinking about her, worrying about her, just waiting for her to wake up. 

Eventually, he got impatient. She seemed to be getting more restless with every minute that went by, and Spencer couldn't stand the frown on her face, so he gently shook her awake. 

She opened her eyes and immediately closed in on herself. 

Her body was fighting, attacking itself, the different nerves were running all around reminding her of all the pain she was feeling, she was in so much pain. She curled into herself, the pain enclosing on her chest and her back. She was frozen trying to hold herself together. 

Spencer moved away, worried that he had hurt her. 

She was gasping, out of breath now, and Spencer was standing there watching her. She hadn't even noticed him. 

Sleep hadn't helped her, the fatigue still hadn't left her alone, and now her body was on fire as if it was fighting a war against itself. She didn't have anything she could do, there was no medication she had that was strong enough to fight against pain like this. Emotions were clouding her head, and she begged them to go away, she didn't have the energy to fight them off. She could barely move. 

And Spencer was standing next to her shocked, worried, and very confused at the girl in front of him. This seemed way more intense than a virus. 

“Y/N?” he asked softly, bending down on his knees so he was closer to her face. 

And she noticed him. And the pain was collapsing her. 

What would she say what would she say- 

She just wanted to keep her secret. 

She wanted the one secret she had. 

She gasped out. 

Why couldn't she just control this?

“Y/N? What's wrong? What hurts?” Spencer asked, quietly as not to disturb her, but she could hear the concern in his voice, could feel the questions he wanted to ask, could feel buckets of worry pouring out of him. 

The pain was insistent. 

She tried to breathe again, reminded herself of her grounding techniques, of the coping skills she had learned after years of pain. She took deep breaths and tried to remind herself that she was in control of how she reacted. 

It was working. 

Just a little bit. 

She finally had the energy to move from her position, tilting her head so she could look at Spencer, so she could beg for another minute, just one more minute to get herself together. 

She hoped he understood. 

She kept breathing. 

And finally, she could listen. 

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, his eyes were less worried now, but Y/N knew he wouldn't leave without an answer, a complete answer. 

The secret was out. 

Y/N shook her head. She just shook her head, and she felt so tired, and she could still feel her body stinging as if it was being pricked at, and her head was aching, and her eyes were drooping, and she was so tired. 

All she wanted was to feel good. 

Why couldn't she feel good? 

“What's going on Y/N? This isn't a virus.” He said patiently as he could see the pain on her face. He didn't want to rush her, he didn't want her to be anymore strained than she already looked. But she seemed so sick. He had to do something. 

She just shook her head, squeezing her eyes tight at the pain that came with it. Spencer looked at her and frowned, she clenched her fists together in an effort to try to keep the pain at bay. 

“Okay...okay…” Spencer said, and he went to lift her so that she wouldn't have to move, he picked her up and sat down on the couch with her, he sat down with Y/N who looked so much like glass at that moment Spencer was afraid to hurt her. 

Luckily enough, him moving her hadn't sent another rage-induced war over her body, and she felt herself relax into his shoulder, felt comforted by the warm feel of his body, by the hand rubbing her back, by the smell that was so familiar. 

“Are you ready to talk yet?” Spencer asked. 

Y/N kept her eyes shut, trying to avoid making her headache any worse, but she could still tell that Spencer was frowning again, and while all she wanted to do was relax, she knew that she owed him some sort of explanation. 

“I-” she gasped at the pain that was stuck in her chest, she hadn't expected talking to make her heart start burning. Spencer quickly brought his hand to her cheek, moving her head so she would look at him, so he could make sure she was still okay. She opened her eyes to look at him and the words got caught in her throat. How much more pain could she endure before it was too much? 

“I’m just-” this time it wasn't the pain that stopped her, it was the confession she was about to make. The secret she was going to tell him. “I can't-” 

Spencer rubbed his thumb over her cheek, waiting for her to continue, but when he saw her eyes again he could tell that she couldn't go on, he could see the wall stopping her from saying what she had to say. 

“Y/N. It's okay. It’ll be alright.” he reassured, hoping they were the right words to say. 

“I can't,” she said again, desperate this time. 

“I can tell you in pain…I can see it in your eyes. Nothing bad is going to happen. I only want to help. It's okay Y/N.” 

And then she took a deep breath. 

And she told him. 

***

It was worse this time. 

And better. 

And worse. 

This time, at least Spencer knew what was going on, at least he understood to the extent he could, at least he knew her breaking points. 

But it was worse. It was so much worse. 

She’d been working, working a lot, working a lot more than she ever had before, she’d been working and working hard. It was too much. 

The pain was too much. 

She’d been overdoing it. It was something she’d always tried to avoid, always tried to keep away from her. She’d been warned about it when the pain had started, warned that while some working was okay, even good for her, that too much working could cause more pain, even more, intense pain. 

She’d been warned. 

She hadn't listened though. 

She seemed to be wrapped up in her job, in the hours that she spent saving other people's lives, she seemed to be wrapped up in it all. 

And she was always with Spencer when she wasn't working. She was always enjoying her time with her boyfriend, she was never sleeping when she was with him. 

She’d been over-doing it. 

But she couldn't stop, she couldn't just give it up now, she couldn't just avoid the work because she didn't feel good. She was going to have to deal with the repercussions that came with the decisions she had made. 

She didn't have a choice. 

She never had a choice. 

This was so much worse. 

And it was technically still a secret. 

Even though Spencer had found out two months ago when she’d had a bad flare up and had no other way to explain to him but the truth, the rest of the team hadn't. Y/N had made Spencer promise that he wouldn't say anything to anyone. She didn't want Hotch to find out, she didn't want him to make changes to her job, to keep her behind because of the illness holding her back. She didn't want that. And she didn't want the pity, and the babying that would happen if the others knew. 

It was bad enough that her boyfriend knew. 

He was especially protective of her now. 

No one else knew. 

And that was good, it kept her from worrying too much about it, helped her keep up the distraction of work without one of her teammates asking if she was okay, it helped her stay on topic rather than focusing on the pain. It was a good secret. It was one she wanted to keep as long as she possibly could. 

But it was getting worse. 

It was almost too much. 

Needles were pricking at her joints, pulling at her joints, keeping her tied down wherever she was sitting, they were keeping her still at any given moment. Her back was burning and sore, and she could do anything about it because if she moved every bone in her body would sting with the burn of needles. Her headache had become a constant in her day, and the pain medication she always kept with her had been getting emptier with every day that passed. 

She’d noticed the looks Spencer had been giving her, noticed the furrow in his brows every time she offered to do anything that didn't involve sitting. She ignored them, focused on the job she had committed to.

Every once and a while, Spencer tried to pull her away, tried to get her to settle down, and just talk to him, and every time he tried to do it, every time he looked like he was about to say something to her, she was busy. 

She managed to be busy. 

And now she had to go save a life. 

James Thomas was murdering couples, he was murdering people and the team had to stop him. There was no time for pain. 

Emily had to go in as bait, it was clear from the moment they got there and James was sitting silently at the bar. Emily needed to be a distraction, to lure him away from all those innocent people around him. 

Y/N was covering her. 

She watched with her gun in her pocket on the other side of the bar as Emily approached him, she noticed the slight change in her body language, the flirty smile she had put on, she wasn't worried about Emily. Her friend was smart enough to know what she was doing. 

And Y/N was smart enough to ignore the pain in her hands and her back, she was smart enough to pretend it wasn't there. 

She watched as James looked over at Emily curiously, as he looked her up and down, she watched as Emily moved closer to him, leaning in so close Y/N wondered if she was going to kiss him. She watched as James got more interested in the conversation. 

She looked over to Hotch and saw him nod at her. It was fine, everything was fine, they just had to wait a little bit longer. 

Just a little bit longer. 

Y/N kept her eyes on Emily as James turned completely toward her, she kept her hand on her gun and her other on the drink she didn't care about. She watched as Emily suddenly lost her smile, as she shrunk back only a little, she looked over to Hotch and he gave her the okay. 

It was time to get him out of there. 

She saw him reach into his jacket for something. 

She saw Emily tense her hand. 

And there was a gunshot. 

It surprised Y/N at first, but when she opened her eyes she saw Emily standing up straight staring at James, and she saw James down on the floor, covered in blood. 

She rushed over to them, she quickly patted down James, grabbing the gun from his coat pocket and giving it to the police officer behind her. She patted down the rest of his body, making her he didn't have any more weapons, and she helped him stand up, taking most of his weight in her arms as he couldn't stand with the bullet wound in his chest. 

She looked up at Emily to make sure she was okay. Emily nodded at her, and she walked out with James. 

And then it was silent. And then she could feel the seconds passing by, could feel the messages her nerves were sending to her brain, could feel everything happening inside her body, she could feel everything. 

There was so much pain, there was so much pain, there was so so so so much pain. 

She was being stabbed, over and over, relentlessly, everywhere on her body, she was being stabbed over and over and over, and she couldn't breathe, couldn't understand what was happening because it wasn't supposed to hurt this much, it was never supposed to hurt this much. 

It had never hurt this much. 

She could feel her body freeze and could feel herself take one more step, one more step out the door, just barely out of the building, before she collapsed, dropping James with her and swaying toward the ground. 

She was supposed to have control, it was never supposed to hurt this much, it was never ever supposed to be like this- 

And she could feel herself moan as she hit the ground, could feel her joints scream at the pain of being moved so much, she could feel the blood rushing to her head, and could feel her back still on fire like it had been for the past week. 

She still didn't know why it hurt so much. 

She’d never had a flare-up this bad. 

She wasn't supposed to fall because of the pain. 

It was supposed to be manageable. 

She didn't realize she had screamed until she felt hands on her until someone was shaking her and trying to get her to stand up, she didn't understand. 

She felt someone pick her up. 

And then it was too much, it was finally too much, too much for her mind, for her body, too much everything. 

It was too much. 

And she fainted. 

She woke up in an office. 

It was void of people and smelled distinctly like men's cologne. 

She tried to move her head but the pain was blinding. 

She heard a voice next to her. 

“You’re up,” Spencer said as he closed the door to the office, holding a bottle of water and a bottle of pain meds. 

She looked at him thankfully. 

And then she stretched her jaw so it wasn't as stiff, and asked him why she was there. 

He explained how she had passed out at the scene. He told her how he’d made sure to take her back somewhere she could rest, instead of taking her to the hospital as the rest of the team was insisting. He told her that he hadn't told them anything, just that he needed to make sure she was okay.

He handed her the bottle of water with a frown on his face, while she sipped the water, he opened the bottle of meds and pulled out two pills and handed them to her. 

She smiled at him with her mouth closed, as he watched her take them. 

It was silent for a moment after that before either of them spoke. 

“Spencer-” 

“I don't want you doing that again,” he said firmly. His voice was like stone and his face was unwavering. 

Y/N looked at him shocked. He’d never looked so harsh before, at least not with her, she was surprised by his reaction, but she was even more surprised that when she looked over to the clock it said she had slept for six hours. 

Six hours. 

That explained the bad taste in her mouth. 

“Spencer I don't think that's fair-” she started to say before Spencer interrupted. 

“No Y/N. I won't let you do that to yourself, I don't want you in pain every day.” 

Something about his tone was making her angry. 

“Spencer it was just a flare-up, they happen sometimes. I can't control them,” she said, and now her eyes were hard and staring at him. 

He didn't understand. He could research it for hours, could learn every piece of information there was out there. But he would never know. He would never understand the pain, the strength it took to deal with pain like that every day. He wouldn't understand the sacrifices she had to make sometimes. He just didn't understand. 

“Y/N, this wasn't random. You’ve been working yourself down to the bone. You haven't stopped working in weeks. And it's wearing you down, I can practically see you deteriorating.” His voice got louder with every word that he spoke. 

“Spencer this is my job. I’m not going to stop just because of a little pain.” She said shaking her head, staring at her, her face not breaking. 

Spencer sighed and moved away from the couch she had slept on. He just wanted her to understand, wanted her to see that if the positions were switched she would be insisting he took it easy too. It hurt him to see her in pain, to see her falling apart every time she moved. Why couldn't she understand that? 

“Y/N, it's not a little pain,” he said pacing around the room, no longer looking at her. “I can tell how much it hurts you. I can't imagine how hard it was for you to be out on the scene today.” 

Y/N could feel the concern, the worry, radiating from his body. She could see that he was fighting with himself, trying to figure out something to say. But she wasn't going to budge on this. 

“Spencer, this is my job. This is who I am.” She said every word clearly, but her body was shaking, and her head was aching. 

“Even right now! You’re still in pain. You were asleep for six hours and you’re still in pain! Can't you see that this isn't okay?” he was whispering, yelling, but he was upset with her now. He was upset with her not caring about her own well-being, upset that she thought her job was worth more than her health. 

She closed her eyes tightly, willing the pain to go away before she spoke again. “Spencer, I can't just sit and live around and have nothing and be in pain all day. This job is good for me. I can't just be a brick that never moves because I don't want to feel bad. I refuse to live like that.” she was getting more and more worked up with every word, and she could feel the tears stinging at her eyes, reminding her that she could still cry. She moved her hand in front of her face, not wanting Spencer to look at her. 

Spencer went over to her and sat down next to her. He just stared at her for a moment. Watched as she tried to blink the tears away, as she tried to will them away with just her thoughts. He could tell how much she was fighting, trying not to be vulnerable around him. He could see how much it hurt, how much energy it took just to do that. 

“Y/N,” he said, moving her hand away from her face so that he could see her again. He gently intertwined their fingers, reminding her that he was still there. “You can cry. It's okay to cry,” he said softly, more caring than he had been since she’d woken up. 

And the glass in her eyes broke. It broke open, shattering the windows in her eyes, letting the tears pour from the broken pieces. She couldn't remember the last time she had cried, couldn't remember the last time she’d had enough energy to cry. 

She didn't want Spencer to see. 

But he was sliding on the couch next to her, laying down and pulling her into his chest, he was rocking her back and forth slowly, remembering that she was still in pain, that too much movement would make her joints attack again. He was holding her, letting her cry. 

She felt like a child, but Spencer holding her was helping, it was keeping the pain a distance away from her, too far away from her to hurt her as much as it had been. 

She hadn't cried in so long. 

Spencer rocked with her, as she mumbled words against his chest, as his hands ran through her hair. 

The pain medication seemed to be helping. 

“Y/N… I just want you to give yourself some room to breathe,” he whispered after a couple of minutes after the cracks in her eyes had started to mend themselves. 

She looked up at him and frowned. She didn't want to take a break, she didn't want anyone to know that she needed a break. She didn't need a break. She didn't. 

“I don't want to,” she mumbled childishly, as she looked away from him. She was pouting now, and she knew that she wasn't going to win this battle. 

“It's okay to need a break Y/N. Everyone does. You have an unfair disadvantage. You deserve a break sometimes.” 

She shook her head. 

“It's not fair, “ she said quieter than before. The cracks were breaking again, and she was crying against his chest. He held her tighter. “It's just not fair,” she said again desperately. 

“I know,” he said as he kissed her head, as he made her aware that he was there, that he understood. “I know.” 

And they were curled up together. If anyone had looked in the window they would’ve seen a boy and a girl, both sad, both angry, but together and so desperately connected. They would have seen a boy and a girl, together, and in love. 

Spencer was quiet again, and he listened to Y/N’s stuttered breathing, listened as she took deep breaths, and felt as her chest stopped going up and down frantically. She was finally starting to calm down, to breathe with Spencer, to calm down against his chest. 

She sniffled and looked up at him, her neck hurting, not because of the pain this time. 

“I’ll try to take it easy,” she said, memorizing the way his eyes lit up. 

“You will?” he said excitedly, as she imagined a little kid would. She laughed at him, as he pecked her lips and held her tighter once again. 

“Yes.” she murmured, breathing in his scent, finally relaxed in his arms. 

It was strange that he could make her feel so peaceful in just a couple of minutes. Strange that although she had been crying only a short time ago, that she felt safe with him. 

“I love you.” she finally said. 

And he pulled away from her just a little bit, just so he could look at her face, into her eyes. 

Neither of them had said it before. Both of them had thought it, thought it over and over in the two years they had known each other. Both of them had felt it, pounding in their chest, breaking them down. They’d both thought it, both felt it, but neither of them had said it. 

Spencer was saving it for something special. 

But she’d just said it. 

She loved him. 

She looked up at him, hoping that the look on his face would be good. 

And it was. 

He was smiling, his eyes were lit up in hope and wonder, and the smile lines on his face were breathtaking. He was smiling so wide. 

She blushed and moved her head back down to his chest. He laughed at her, and Spencer wondered if he would ever be able to stop smiling after hearing that. 

“Are you sure that isn't just the drugs?” he asked, hoping he could look back in her eyes. 

And she giggled against him, and then looked up shaking her head. 

He smiled even more, and she copied him. 

“In that case,” he said, kissing her forehead “I love you.” 

“You do?” she asked, still smiling at him, forgetting about the pain, about everything, when she looked in his eyes.  

“I do,” he confirmed, moving his hand to her cheek, stroking her face with his thumb. “I really do.” 

She smiled and forgot everything. She smiled at him, and she sat in the warmth of his words, in the happiness of his smile. 

Maybe Spencer was her pain medication. 

my masterlist here

[troubatrain]

taxi - j. markstrom

a/n: i swore on my life i started writing this and then hours went by and it was done. by the way, aside from this song i still have yet to chose any players for the rest of this series and the google form is open for suggestions (it’s linked below) but anyways, i need to start by saying this got super personal for me and this showcases some of my own experiences with my own mental illness, and not everyone experiences those things the same way and i just want to remind everyone of that before they read! also, i definitely suggest listening to the song while reading it because it just feels right.

i need to tag @danglesnipecelly​ because k wrote a matty fic and in turn i’m legally required to write a marky fic

part of my lovely little lonely series

tw: mentions of depression, mentions of post-partum depression

“...and in the backseat, when you asked me, is the sadness everlasting? i pulled you closer, looked at you and said love, I think it is...” - Taxi - The Maine

Jacob wasn’t sure when things had gotten so bad.

You were doing better, and Jacob even thought you were doing better than before. You’d been going to therapy again regularly, less of Jacob forcing you to go for his sake and more of going by your own will. You were back on your meds, but even you admitted they felt like they might have been working this time around now that you found the right fit. The adjustment to your new surroundings in Calgary seemed to be going smoothly, spending time with Annica and Elias like you weren’t constantly battling with your own demons.

But god you were.

Jacob honestly thought you were braver than anyone he’s ever known. You met a few years back, when you used to throw on a smile just to walk out the door and Jacob was just starting to make a splash in Vancouver. He was the only person who seemed to notice you in the large crowd you were who was mingling with a few of his teammates. He knew you were something special in that moment, and he’d tell you everyday until you started to believe it. What he didn’t know at the time was, you’d just gotten diagnosed with depression and you were tackling it on your own. Not a soul knew about the days you couldn’t wait to sleep because it was the only time you were able to turn your brain off. They didn’t know about the mess in your apartment that was so embarrassing but you still just couldn’t clean it. And they definitely didn’t know about the long drives where you just thought about never coming back.

Jacob didn’t know these things for a while, but when the signs became clear, he tried his hardest to understand. He came over and cleaned your apartment when you were at work, shrugging it off when you asked him what prompted him to do it. Jacob made sure you were taken care of on days he knew you weren’t able to do it yourself.

Then the east coast road trip happened.

Your relationship was new, and you hadn’t told him what was going on even though it was becoming incredibly clear that he knew. Jacob has always been patient, and you always joke it’s because he’s a goalie, but the truth was that his heart was bigger than him. You called him, teary eyed while you sat on a park bench in the middle of Vancouver and told him you couldn’t do this anymore. At first he thought you were talking about him, maybe he’d overstepped a line he shouldn’t have, but it was clear you meant life. It was just too much, and Jacob knew it was time to push talking about it.

So you did, you laid there in the bitter cold on that bench until the sun came up and talked to him about your mental illness. You talked about your therapist who you’d been seeing but you were honest about the appointments you skipped. You talked to him about the full pill bottles in your bathroom because you didn’t want to take them but you didn’t want anyone to notice you weren’t picking up prescriptions. He was calm, listening to your words and not reprimanding you on the stall in your recovery.

Everyone moves at their own pace Y/N, you can move like a turtle if you want to and I won’t tell you to hurry up and get better.

Jacob never pushed, but that didn’t mean he didn’t educate himself. He read and read and read, everything he could on how he was supposed to help

you. He took classes, he listened to talks and he’d even attended meetings with other people who were in his same position. He wanted to understand, and he did his best to. Jacob did this because he loves you, and he wanted to make sure that was never going to be something you could question.

So that brings him here, standing in your shared bathroom while he counted how many pills were left in that orange bottle and he just knew the math wasn’t going to add up. Jacob runs a large hand over his face, rubbing his temples while he spun out about how this could be his fault. Maybe he should have stayed in Vancouver. Was the change too much for you?

“Babe?” You call out, leaning against the bathroom door and looking at him sadly. Your voice was soft, it always was, like Jacob being in distress was more important than the hell he’d seen you go through.

“Have you been skipping days?” Jacob asks, never with an accusatory tone. He learned that lesson, watching you shrink at his words when he asked if you’d been in bed all day. You start to utter an apology, Jacob raising his hand at you to stop because you didn’t owe him one, “Why didn’t you call?”

Tears were welling up in your eyes, your lip quivering while you tried to find the right words. Jacob didn’t look mad, he wasn’t - he was feeling guilty. He promised you, if you called it didn’t matter if he was in the middle of a game, he’d be there as soon as he could, “You need to be with your new team-”

“Fuck my new team,” Jacob scoffs, shaking his head and opening his arms to you, “You think I’d want to spend any more time with Elias than you?”

“No, I just,” You sigh, pushing a piece of your hair back that seemed to just fall back into place, “I didn’t want to be a bother, you need to be with these guys all the time and how can you do that if you’re worried about me?”

“I can do that because I want to do it,” Jacob reminds you, pushing that same piece of hair back where it belonged, and it stuck, “I don’t feel like I have to worry about you, I want to.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier not to?” You ask, wrapping your arms around Jacob’s waist and pressing your head into his chest. His heartbeat was steady, he was steady.

Jacob was the most stable thing you had in your life. You couldn’t figure what you’d done to experience unconditional love like that, a person to care for you so much that they would do anything to make you happy. He calmed you on the days you needed most and he never pushed you harder than he thought you needed. Turtle speed. He always called it that, but he’d rather see you move slowly to get better than throw on another fake smile.

“My life wouldn’t be easier if you weren’t in it,” Jacob hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Do you want me to set out your meds for the week? In that little container I got you?”

You nod, making a promise to yourself to take the step in getting better. Jacob reminded you constantly, you can’t do this for him, you needed to do it for yourself - he was just helping. He was always going to help.

***

You seemed better.

Jacob swore you were actually doing okay, the little check ins he was doing was working and when he got back from his next road trip - nothing seemed wrong. You were standing across Johnny’s house, laughing along with Annica and a few other girls and Jacob knew that laugh was a real one. This was good, seeing you out laughing and smiling.

“So, when is it going to be time for you?” Annica asks, her hand running over your ring finger, “Marky has to be thinking about having a few running around soon.”

You wish it hadn’t set you off. It was a simple question anyone would ask a couple who’s been together this long.

Children was a conversation you weren’t ready for. The thought terrified you, not because you didn’t want to have them, it was the post-partum talk. You knew the risks, all of the things that could happen after and you didn’t want to stomach that. What if you weren’t enough for your kids? They didn’t ask for a mother who couldn’t get out of bed sometimes let alone take care of them, and you’d be insane to think that was a healthy way to raise a child.

Jacob’s eyes remained on you while you rushed out of the house, fiddling with your hands and shaking your head. That was your tell, and Jacob excused himself immediately, chasing you out of the house. His hands grab your cheeks, steadying you for a moment and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“She asked me when we were going to the marriage and kids thing and,” You ramble out, closing your eyes and shutting your mouth. Jacob knew where you were going with this, it was fear he had too. It was the reason there was a ring in one of his coat pockets at home that’s never been opened because he was waiting for the right time. He’d wait forever if he had to. You were the one there was never a doubt about it.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” Jacob sighs, knowing this conversation was far too heavy to be had in public, “But, you’ll never be alone, I’m never going to leave, I’m never going to pressure you into anything. When you’re ready I will be too, but I don’t care how long it takes.”

“What if it’s too late for kids?” You whisper, the fear that Jacob could tell you he’d wait forever but you’d seen him with kids, he was made to be a father.

“We can adopt, foster, whatever you want,” Jacob assures you, the idea of having children never had to be biological to him, “Chucky asked me if we were looking to adopt the other day…”

You let out a laugh, looking and pressing your lips to Jacob’s. You couldn’t thank him enough, not like he’d ever let you, but he was so good. You leaned your head on his shoulder, watching Calgary pass you by while Jacob hums to the radio next to you in the cab to get home.

“You think I’ll always be like this?” You ask, a question that could have been for either of you.

“There’s always going to be bad days, but you’re never going to be alone on them. I promise.”

“Turtle speed?”

“Turtle speed.”

[wonder-kid-pugh]

Homesick - (Christen Press x reader)

Hey guys!!! Honestly heard this song and loved it so much and thought it would be good for an imagine. Halfway through writing it I thought it would have been better with an army service person but honestly was too tired to change it all. But I hope you enjoy!!!

You look so peaceful in our bed

I didn't wanna wake you when I left

To catch my plane

And I'll be trailing through the sky

Just another silhouette up high

Before you wake

I groan quietly as the alarm on my Fitbit buzzes awaking me from my peaceful night. I lay there for another minute before deciding I unfortunately have to get up. Ever so slowly I gently slip out from Christen's grasp and quietly get out of the bed.

I start to move around the room getting ready. The benefit of having everything packed the day before means I wasn't in a rush to pack and I all I had to do was get changed. As I check my watch I see I need to be leaving soon to make my flight. But as I look over at Christen who is still sleeping peacefully in the bed I smile softly at the sight.

She looked so serene and peaceful. She looked so relaxed as her chest rises and falls in slow rhythmic breaths. I frown knowing how hard she's been working lately on Re Inc alongside training and everything else that needs to be done. I sigh and bite the inside of my cheek. We had a traditional, sort of like an unspoken rule. Whenever one of us had to leave for somewhere we would always wake the other up to say goodbye. Sadly it was usually me doing the waking up having to travel a lot for work.

But knowing how stressed she been recently about Re Inc's new capsule launch and the upcoming Olympics, I didn't have the heart to wake her up.

Instead I settle for a gentle kiss on her forehead. I freeze as she stirs in her sleep as she shuffles around in the bed before burying her head into my pillow. With one last smile I creep out of the room leaving her a small note on the counter before leaving for the airport.

Knowing by the time she wakes up I'll be high in the sky.

You tell me that you had that dream again

When I didn't have to go

I wish that we could live inside your head

I had barely stepped into my hotel room when my phone rings. I drop my bags before fishing around in my pockets to find my phone. But I smile as I see the name pop up on my screen, "Morning Chris".

"You didn't wake me this morning..." I didn't even need to see her to know that she was pouting on the other end. I bite my lip, "I know but I know how hard you've been working and you just looked so beautiful and peaceful. I just couldn't do it". She giggles, "Maybe it's because of the dream I was having".

I flop back into the bed settling back into the mattress, "What were you dreaming about?" "You woke me up and told me that your gig was cancelled and you didn't have to leave". I chuckle and run my hand through my hair, "I like the sound of that. I wish we could live inside you head".

And I know that you'll feel better

When you're sat there in my sweater

That I gave you to remember

Being on the sofa next to me

And I'm waking up at 6:00 a.m.

To call before you go to bed

And tell you 'bout the day I've planned

And listen to the one you had

And when I'm homesick

I've got you on my home screen

So anywhere I'm going

I know that you'll be with me

Until I hold you, darling

I grin, "I'm sorry I didn't wake you up. But I have a surprise that will make you happy". She hums, "Oh yeah? What is it?" "Go look in the wardrobe" I tell her. I can hear her shuffling on her end as she no doubt goes to the wardrobe. Then I hear her coo over the phone, "Awe Y/n..." I smile, "I know it sucks being away from each other a lot of the time especially with conflicting schedules and stuff. But I hope this will help remind you I'm always here for you".

She giggles, "It's smells like you and a small bit of popcorn". I had left her one of my oversized sweater which she always loved to steal off me. She had spent many nights curled up in my sweater on the sofa for our movie nights. It was one of my favourites but I could never be mad at her for taking it. She just looked so adorable all swallowed up in the massive hoodie.

"This way" I tell her, "whenever you start to miss me. You can just put this on and think of the two of us cuddled up on the couch". She lets out a content sigh, "I love you". I smile, "I love you too".

Your friends, they ask you all the time

Why'd you wanna wait another night

When I'm not home?

And nothing seems to settle down

Just another day, another town

And we're alone

As much as I love my job it did suck at times. Being a photographer for hire was brilliant as I got to do what I loved and got to travel all over the world meeting amazing people. The problem with being in such high demand means I'm traveling a little too much at times.

It also meant that I was purely reliant on reputation alone. Thankfully I had spent years building it up. It didn't hurt that I was very versatile doing just about everything from travel pictures to modelling shoots. But in building up a reputation it meant that I couldn't turn down bookings.

And it seems that I always had the worst timing with luck. It seems that just as I finish up a job I get booked for another one. Postponing my return home. Things just never seems to settle down. Meaning spending even longer away from Christen. Or just when I come home she's leaving for camp or matches. I would be hopping town to town. The two of us alone.

But not really

But I can never let this go to waste

The further that I go

The more I seem to love you every day

But no matter how far away we are from each other. No matter the distance I travel it could never diminish how much I love Christen. It's as if the further I travel the more my love grows for her. I guess what they say is true.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

And I know that you'll feel better

When you're sat there in my sweater

That I gave you to remember

Being on the sofa next to me

And I'm waking up at 6:00 a.m.

To call before you go to bed

And tell you 'bout the day I've planned

And listen to the one you had

And when I'm homesick

I've got you on my home screen

So anywhere I'm going

I know that you'll be with me

Until I hold you

When I'm homesick

I've got you on my home screen

So anywhere I'm going

I know that you'll be with me

Until I hold you, darling

After touching down in New York and hailing down a taxi I slump back in the seat as they drive me to the hotel for the night. But the first thing I do is check the time difference. It just became apart of my routine everytime I went somewhere for work. I would always check the time difference between where I am with wherever Christen is.

I had made it a priority to always call Christen before she goes to bed no matter what unless it was organised before hand for some reason.

Of course I never told Christen this. Purely cause in doing so it means that I would have to be awake at insane hours in order to call her. Of course it was a pain but everything was worth it to hear about Christen's day.

As I get to the hotel I immediately slide into the bed not even bothering to change and instead just dropping my bags and getting comfortable underneath the warn blankets. Knowing I only have a few hour before needing to wake up to call Christen.

I groan lightly when I hear the alarm on my phone go off. I sit up in my bed with a yawn before taking my phone off the charge and dialling Christen's number. I rub the sleep from my eyes as it rings. But it doesn't take long as it only has the chance to ring twice before I hear my beautiful girlfriend's voice on the other end, "Hey Y/n!"

I smile tiredly, "Hey Love". "You okay? You sound tired. Early start?" I chuckle quietly she has no idea. "Eh it's okay I just woke up is all". I stifle a yawn, "But don't worry about that how was your day?"

I can't help but smile as she begins her long rant about her day. Starting off with the usual with her morning yoga and meditation and everything. Then tells me about Kelley acting like a crack head at training and work for Re Inc. "Mal was asking for you as well today" she tells me making me smile. "Awe" coo, "tell the little nugget I miss her too".

"Do you have much planned for the day?" She asks. I shrug although I know she can't see me, "Well other than the shoot I have today I don't really know. Maybe if I get a chance I can go explore maybe take a few pictures". She groans, "Uh I wish I could go exploring with you". I smile, "Maybe one day I'll bring you back with me and then we can explore together". "I would like that" she says softly.

There's a small pause before she speaks again. "So do you know when your going to be coming home?" She asks quietly. I sigh knowing it was coming. She asks every time and I hate it. Purely because I can never give her a good answer. I never liked giving her an answer only for her to be disappointed when another job calls me away again. "I don't know Chris" I sigh. "I have this gig which is a city wide shoot which could go on for days if we get delayed and then I might be getting called for another in England afterwards".

I could practically see the frown on her face, "Okay..." I sigh and play with the ring on my finger, "But you know that I'm doing everything in my power to get back home to you". "I know". I inhale deeply, "I love you so so so so much Christen Press". I smile as I hear her giggle down the line, "I love you too". "To the moon and back" I whisper. She sighs contently.

"To the moon and back"

I know that you'll feel better

When you're sat there in my sweater

That I gave you to remember

Being on the sofa next to me

I groan quietly as I rub my eyes tired from constantly staring at the screen. When I glance up I see I've been editing these photos for over 3 hours now as the it now shows that it's nearing 4am. I slump back in the chair and stare up at the ceiling just taking a moment to rest my eyes.

I loved photography and taking pictures of different things. But this was the part I hated the most. Editing. Was simply the bain of my existence. It was just a slow process and took so long to do such small things. And as much as I wanted to just go to sleep I knew I couldn't. The longer I put these off the more pressure I'll be under to get them sent off.

It would also lead to just a bigger amount of pictures to edit and that didn't seem all that appealing either.

It didn't help that all my thoughts just seems to trail back to Christen. She's probably in the middle of team bonding or free time right now. Probably hanging with Tobin or someone right now. What I wouldn't give to just be cuddled up with her right now taking a nap.

I missed her so much right now

My thoughts are interrupted by my phone pinging. I sigh as I grab my phone only to see it's an Instagram notification. I scrunch my face "I've been tagged?" I shrug thinking it's just probably someone posting some photos I took for them but instantly smile when I see who it was.

It was a picture I had actually taken a while ago just for fun but it came out extremely well. It was a picture of Chris sitting on our sofa looking away from the camera and instead to the seat beside her. The light streaming in from the windows we're hitting her perfectly. But the best part was her sitting them in my baggy sweater adorning her small frame making her look even smaller than usual.

Christenpress Wish you were here next to me

I chuckle as I like the photo. Christen was such a tease. She knew that fans had suspicions that she was dating someone but would never come out and directly say who. It was quite funny seeing how many people speculated Christen and Tobin were dating from photos I had taken. Taking friendly gestures way out of context.

After staring at the picture for a while longer I switch off my phone and get back to editing the photos. Wanting to get these done as quickly as possible. Because the quicker I get these done.

The quicker I get home to her.

And when I'm homesick

I've got you on my home screen

So anywhere I'm going

I know that you'll be with me

Until I hold you

When I'm homesick

The day had been longer than it should have been. The shoot had a rocky start with an overbearing manager interrupting the shoot constantly and questioning everything every 5 minutes. I was quickly coming to the end of my tether but I finally cracked. Not only was he making the model uncomfortable, he started questioning me. So I eventually kicked him off the shoot.

Which was the best decision as the model finally relaxed enough to continue on with the shoot. It ran much smoother after that but we had a lot of time to make up for. And along with the wardrobe changes and travelling between locations the day was just tiring overall.

It didn't help that homesickness hit my like a train today.

I don't know why but everything just remind me of Christen. It was almost crippling how much I missed her. Wanting nothing more than to be in her arms. But I plastered a smile on my face and grinned and bared it. The only thing getting me through the day was my phone.

My phone was my lifeline and my medicine for homesickness. Whenever I was having a bad day or just missing home all I had to do was turn on my phone. And I was met with Christen smiling up at me from my home screen. It was a picture that I think one of her teammates took. It was of a picture of a few of us at a party or team celebration I honestly couldn't remember. With Tobin, Pinoe and a few others either side of us while Christen was sitting on my lap with my arms wrapped around her and my chin resting on her shoulder. Both of us smiling at the camera. It was of It's my own way of always having her with me.

She has my sweater and I have my home screen. And that will keep us going until we're back together again.

I've got you on my home screen

So anywhere I'm going

I know that you'll be with me

Until I hold you, darling

I focus my camera waiting for the perfect moment until I quickly snap the photo. I grin as I see the outcome of the shots and swear that she could never take a bad photo ever. I wait anxiously taking the occasional picture until the whistle finally blows.

I pull the snood closer to my face and pull my hat down further down my face making me almost unrecognisable. As I make my way onto the field I snap pictures of the players trading after match pleasantries and talking to each other. I smile as I see her smiling and laughing with Tobin and Mal. I raise the camera to my eye and wave at them, "Hey! Can I get a picture?" 

They all nod before standing beside each other and smiling at me with their arms around each other. I quickly take the picture before lowering the camera, "Beautiful! Thank you but I was expecting a better reaction from you".

She looks at me confused before I lower my snood and smile at my girlfriend, "Hey Love". She gasps at me before launching herself into my arms giving me just enough time to move my camera away from getting crushed and catch her in my arms. I spin her around in my arms before putting her back on her feet. "Your here! Omg your actually here!" She squeals as she wraps her arms around my neck.

After passing off my phone to Mal with a smile I securely wrap my arms around her waist pulling her even closer to me, "Yes Darling. I'm here".

We sway side to side for a bit just enjoying being back in each others arms again. "I missed you" she whispers into my neck as I kiss the side of her head, "I missed you too. So so so much Chris".

She pulled back just even to look into my eyes before leaning in to kiss me. Finally being back in each others arms we were so happy to be back with each other. "I love you to the moon and back" I whisper pressing my forehead against hers.

"I love you to the moon and back"

[himaboroshi736]

IronDad fic recs

Here. I’m a french reader, but I’ve read A LOT (like...a lot) of IronDad, so, eventually, here my fic rec. (I tried to class it by categories, but well...) (it’s gonna be very long, guys)

 Peter Parker has anxiety 

Don’t let me get me, by hopeless_hope 

He picks up his phone and sends a quick text. "hey, happy! i’m not feeling too hot today, so i think i’m gonna have to cancel. tell mr. stark i’m sorry!"

He stares at his phone, waiting for a response. It never comes, and Peter sighs sadly. There was a part of him, a small part, that really hoped he was wrong. His insides burn, and he curls up tighter into a ball and turns off his phone.

(No one’s going to try to contact him anyway.)

or

Anxiety has a way of convincing Peter that everyone hates him. Tony has a way of proving him wrong.

Midnight Oil, by @jolinarjackson

After everything that has happened to Peter over the last year - or five, really - he shouldn’t be worried about something as mundane as the ACT. When he fails it, though it sends him into a spiral of self-doubt, which only gets worse when Peter realizes that he doesn’t seem to be able to fix whatever is broken.

Tony Stark has anxiety 

do you even remember what the world looks like ?, by @iron--spider

Tony’s heart has been working on overdrive since this whole thing started. Friday has a countdown clock plastered on the heads up display, but it feels like hieroglyphics to him at this point, like some ancient language he could never master.

Because when Peter Parker is missing, things start losing their meaning real quick.

“Should be around here,” Rhodey says on the com. May is still on the other line, listening in, because once a certain amount of time goes by without word from Peter, things move into Extremely Worried Aunt territory. They’re already in Tony Is Panicking territory, and when both of those territories overlap it’s never a good time for anybody.

Time? What the hell is time? His mind is blanking numbers out entirely. Minutes are seconds are hours are years.

not like megatron, by @iron--spider

“Hi! This is Peter Parker, I can’t get to the phone right now, so leave a message and I’ll call you back later! Hopefully not too much later, but don’t get your hopes up!”

Tony knows that message by heart. He’s heard it hundreds of times, in a greyer world, and it sends shivers down his spine as he climbs into the car.

He doesn’t think about that place. That half-world. No way, that’s done, that’s over, that’s history.

“Hey, kid, don’t you know it’s bad etiquette to go and disappear on your birthday? Not allowed, really, really bad vibes from the universe. What’s going on with your suit? I wasn’t watching. Nope. Just got an alert. What’s going on? Uh, call me back.” He clears his throat and hangs up like a moron, driving out into the street.

Hypothermia trope (i really like it so if you have any suggestions...)

i knock the ice from my bones, by hopeless_hope

Peter tries to move his legs through the water, dread filling him when they don’t move, and he just hangs there, doing anything and everything he can not to focus on the feeling of ice clinging to his bones. He feels sluggish, the world blurring around him, and he rests his head on the ice, not even registering the cold anymore.

He’s just so damn tired.

“PETER!” he hears someone yell, but it’s all muffled, and he lazily drags his eyes up to see a figure descending towards him.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he thinks, This is not how my vacation was supposed to go.

or

While on what's supposed to be a relaxing vacation with the Starks, things for Peter quickly go south, and he finds himself on thin ice. Literally.

Ice Ice Baby, by @wolfypuppypiles

If Tony, Bucky or pretty much anybody that knew Peter had seen him that morning they would have smacked him upside the head. Helping people was great, everyone should give it a go, but when helping people puts you in danger it’s not so smart anymore.

AKA Peter can't get from Avenger tower to the subway without giving his winter clothes to homeless people and ends up with a severe case of hypothermia

Candle in the Window, by @madasthesea

Finals are over and Peter just wants to go home. The weather has other ideas.

Burn This Out, by @ephemeralstark

It's summer and Peter is free to be Spider-Man all day which is great, but it's summer and Peter is out as Spider-Man on the hottest day of the year which is not great.

Or, Peter gets heat stroke because he can't thermoregulate and things could not go worse for him.

(yeah, it’s not an hypothermia, but it’s linked to the fact that Peter can’t actually thermoregulate)

Post-Endgame (really like this trope too lmao)

the first birthday after, by iron_spider 

(Endgame spoilers. But The Thing doesn't happen.)

The rain falls harder and Tony turns, his neck creaking and cracking, and he sees Peter asleep over by the window. He’s holding a small, flat box, and he’s slowly slipping to the right side of the easy chair he’s in.

Tony thinks about letting him sleep, but he finds himself speaking anyway. “Pete,” he says, his voice rough and raspy.

Peter immediately startles awake. “Happy Birthday,” he says, almost like he’d fallen asleep practicing it, planning to say it as soon as he woke up. He blinks at Tony, shivering a little bit, and then he smiles. “Happy Birthday. Happy Birthday.”

Tony snorts, smiling back. “Thanks, bud,” he says.

Second Best, by Rowan_M

Tony had adjusted to parenthood quickly when Morgan came along, and was always conscious of making sure Peter isn't left out ... Almost always. When Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan, Tony obsess over his daughter and takes his anger out on Peter, without even checking to see if he was okay. Steve finds Peter later that night in serious pain and in need of immediate medical attention.

Or, Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan and Tony basically ignores him.

when you’re feeling empty keep me in your memory, by JkWriter

after everything with thanos he forgets it's his birthday. he just assumed everyone else did too.

All For You, by @ironxprince

Three weeks after the snap that saved the world, Peter learns he was the reason behind it. He learns that Tony risked death, and now has to live with the ramifications, both physical and mental, all because of him.

This doesn't sit right with him.

you save everybody, but who saves you ?, by @iron--spider

Tony doesn’t sleep, because he can’t, because too many things are plaguing him, most of all where Peter is and what he’s doing. Tony has a good view of the hallway through the windows to his room, and he stares and stares until his eyes cross, until he hallucinates, until he knows he’s going insane.

He sees Peter sneaking into the med bay at about four in the morning.

The kid’s mask is off and he’s got two short, harsh slashes across his cheek, and he’s bleeding from a slice across his neck. His suit is ripped in a few places and he’s holding onto his middle, and Tony can see his hands are shaking.

It’s like something splinters in Tony’s already broken brain, like his world narrows and there are hazy edges, both weakness and strength entwining in his veins when he sees Peter struggle up onto one of the beds in the main atrium, starting to tend his wounds without calling anybody to help.

BAMF Peter Parker 

Pizza, a Movie, and... an Attempted Kidnapping ?, by Pogokitten

“Tony. We’ll be fine,” Peter tells the man for what must be the tenth time in the last half hour.

Peter’s sitting on the couch of his and May’s apartment and building Legos with Morgan as they both watch their father’s methodical, yet anxious, pacing. He’s dressed to impress, as is Pepper who is watching the scene slightly exasperated.

“Are you sure? We can ditch the gala, kid. Just say the word,” Tony offers, halting in front of his kids.

Or: Tony and Pepper leave Peter in charge of Morgan while they go to their first gala since the third snap. Peter is expecting a calm night in with his adopted sister, but some thugs throw a wrench in his plans.

he’s good like that, by @iron--spider

“Get the hell outta here, boy,” the man says. “Or you’re gonna watch your boss die in front of you.” Then he grabs Tony by the shoulders hard, and shoves him down to his knees. The gun is louder now, like it’s filled with words that are eager to be shouted, and Tony winces when he feels the barrel press against the back of his neck. His knees weren’t ready to hit the ground that hard, and he tries to keep the pain from reaching his face.

He must fail, because Peter looks pissed.

“You’re not gonna shoot him, mister,” Peter says, somehow still trying to maintain a respectful tone, despite the clear anger written all over him.

stark robotics and technology conference, by @iron--spider

Peter leans against the wall while Tony chooses their floor, and the doors close. “Do you, uh, want me to do some interning stuff? Like go and get you coffee? Make sure the, uh—programs are all ready? Make sure the paintings are straight in the ballroom? Make sure the chairs are—”

Tony snorts. “Kid, I just thought you’d enjoy this. May told me about when it came through Queens but you two couldn’t make it because she was working and didn’t want you to go alone, and I thought, after all the shit you’ve been through lately, that you deserved something fun. No interning for you. That’s just an excuse.”

Peter remembers that. It was six months after Ben died, and he wasn’t gonna bother May too much about the conference. He didn’t know how much tickets cost anyways, or if kids his age could even go.

He really hung onto the idea of Iron Man after Ben died. Peter held him closer than ever.

Peter and Tony fighting 

dinner and a jailbreak, by killerqueenwrites

“I’m not your kid!” Peter shouts.

“Don’t walk away from me, I’m not done–“

“You’re not my dad!”

Peter fitting in after the Blip isn't as easy as Tony hoped it would be. He wants his kid back, but they can't seem to stop fighting.

and then Peter goes missing.

my old man, by parkrstark 

"I just want to help you. I want to help you understand what's wrong here and how to stop it. I used to be the same way until my father showed me how to be a man." He glanced back at Peter to sneer. "He's old enough to know better by now, but it's not your fault you didn't know how to teach him." "Teach him what?" Tony asked even though he didn't want to know the answer.

"Discipline, of course," Junior said with a wink.

--

Tony takes Peter on a weekend trip to try and change his mind about college and things go wrong. Then, they go even more wrong.

Between how it is and how it should be, by @frostysunflowers

''Doesn’t Captain Rogers ever…wonder,'' Peter winced as he fumbled for the right word, ''where you are?''

Bucky smirked. ''Steve’s a regular mother hen. Used to be me that worried about him.'' He gave Peter a pointed look. ''Better question is, isn’t Stark wondering where you are?''

Soulmates trope 

presumed dead, by killerqueenwrites 

Tony gets his first soulmark when he’s fifteen, his second when he's thirty. He's forty-six when his third appears, and forty-eight when it fades to grey.

did you see the flares in the sky ?, by justt-ppeachy

‘hi’  

One simple word was displayed proudly on the inside of his right wrist. Tony wasn’t sure when this word showed up or how long it had been there.

A line formed underneath the word and Tony could almost feel the pressure on his arm from the marker his soulmate was using to push one phrase from their skin into his.

‘i loev yu’

The letters were written slowly and messily as they showed up upon his wrist while he watched in disbelief. Not sure if he was hallucinating or just going insane, Tony rubbed at the writing, wondering if they would disappear once he looked again.

The words were barely recognizable, but they were still the best thing Tony had ever seen.

IronDad Fluff (yeah)

peter wearing tony’s hoodie, by killerqueenwrites 

Tony’s used to his clothes going missing. His MIT hoodie doesn’t often leave his closet, though, which is why he notices its absence straight away. There’s a lifetime of safety and comfort in this old hoodie, for both of them, and that’s all Tony could ever wish to give Peter.

Career Day, by @superhusbands4ever

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Peter’s enhanced senses picked up the familiar voice from outside the door. “I had a meeting this morning and then I got lost looking for the class… anyway, I’m here for Peter? Peter Parker?”

He frowned at hearing his name, still unsure what exactly was going on. He watched as his teacher continued to stand and stare out the door for a minute before seemingly remembering herself and taking a step back.

“Of course! If you could just go sit next to him until your turn, he’s in the back on the right side.”

The man stepped through the door and Peter gaped with the rest of the class as Tony Stark, in his signature suit and goatee, sporting a pair of red sunglasses and carrying a suitcase walked through the door.

Kryptonite, by forensicleaf 

The kid is acting weird.

Tony tries to figure it out.

father’s day, by @iron--spider 

It’s Father’s Day, and Tony never really had a father. Not in the real sense of the word, not in the way that counts.

Peter Parker doesn’t have a father, either. Not anymore, anyway, not since he was little, and the amount of years that have passed since then outweigh the amount of time he got with Richard Parker.

Tony wouldn’t call himself Peter’s dad. He wouldn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t think of himself that way, no way, no way.

He stares at himself in the mirror. He pulls down on his cheeks, makes his eyes water. He runs his hands over the roughness of his jaw and sorta hates everything about himself right now, because he’s acting like a goddamn idiot. It’s Father’s Day and he’s not a father. He doesn’t know why the hell he’s pining for something that isn’t his, shouldn’t be his, can never be his. He isn’t a father, he isn’t Peter’s father, so there’s no reason on God’s green earth for Peter and him to do something for Father’s Day.

ain’t no valley low enough, by @iron--spider (yes, again, ‘cuz she’s the best)

Peter snorts. “You know I didn’t apply anywhere in Florida.”

“Please, kid, you know all you have to do is write a beautiful essay with my recommendation attached to it and you’re in. You’ve got the scores.”

Peter has a list. Of all the places he applied to, all the places he got into. A lot of it was encouraged by the adult role models in his life, some of it by Ned daydreaming about places like California and Colorado. Mostly, Peter just applied everywhere he could think of, because he’s known for a long time that Tony was gonna help May pay for it, and he didn’t wanna limit his options. Thinking about college has been strange for him, strange to the extent that he had a full blown panic attack about it in the middle of Avengers taco night last month. He can’t really understand it, doesn’t get why it feels like the end of the world—because he’s experienced the end of the world, and it’s not which campus has a bowling alley and which school has circus classes. But he nearly blacked out all the same, sobbed in Tony’s arms on the balcony until Tony proposed this. The road trip.

and when it’s hard, i’ll place your head into my hands, by hopeless_hope

“Tony,” Pepper sing-songs to get his attention. “Your mother hen is showing.”

“What?” he snaps indignantly. “I am not a mother hen. This is just... concern. Of the average kind. Perfectly normal.”

“Of course,” Pepper humors him, and he shoots her a dirty look as he types out a quick text to Peter.

or

It's been five days since Tony's heard from Peter, who's away at college, and Tony is not coping well. (Neither is Peter.)

Peter likes cuddles (and Tony too, but he always denies it... until he can’t)

my arms will hold you (keep you safe and warm), by parkrstark 

“So, you’re telling me your body...is going through Oxytocin withdrawals?” Tony asked slowly.

“Cuddle withdrawals,” Peter corrected him. “Mr. Stark cuddles.”

TW : Rape/non-cons

make me strong, by parkrstark 

It all started when Tony introduced Peter to Skip Westcott. He just didn't know until it was too late.

(There is a lot more, but I can’t find it rn ;-;)

5+1 

5 times peter clung to tony, by parkrstark 

... and the one time tony clung to him.

You are my Dad, you’re my dad, boogiewoogiewoogie, by Hittinmiss

“Peter? What’s going on kid?” Tony asked, him popping up on the phone’s screen.

“Hey da-” Peter started automatically before immediately noticing his mistake, the look on Ned’s face proved that yes, he almost called Tony Stark dad. He needed to try recover quickly because the look on Tony’s face seemed confused, especially with his slight pause. “-aaaaaamn Mr. Stark I really like your shirt. Where’d you get it?”

Smooth.

---

5 times Peter called Tony Dad and the 1 time Tony called himself Dad

5 Times Tony Took Care of Peter..., by As_Clear_As_Crystal 

“Think if I coded a sign into your suit that says ‘Baby on Board,’ maybe criminals wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about murdering you?” Tony asks airily, poking at the bottom of Peter’s foot.

Peter halfheartedly kicks at Tony with his toe. (“That’s offensive, Mr. Stark.” )

- - -

aka: Five times Tony took care of Peter, and one time Peter took care of Tony.

5 times Peter is stuck with Tony, by @iron--spider

(...and one time he’s stuck alone.)

“I wonder if Pepper’s reported me missing yet,” Tony says, with an exaggerated sigh. “I wonder if this is some kind of scheme to kidnap me or something.”

“I think the ride’s just broken,” Peter says.

“Today of all goddamn days,” Tony says, exasperation clear in his voice and in his eyes. “Ruining our trip—”

“It’s not ruined,” Peter says. “Look, we’re hanging out."

“Real quality time,” Tony huffs. “Us, a few other trapped members of the general public, and a handful of animatronic pirates. Drunk pirates. Repeating themselves.”

5 times tony forgot peter was just a kid, by @parkrstark

...and the 1 time he didn't.

Or the one where it was hard for Tony to remember that the kid fighting next to him was still just a kid.

can i get a good night’s sleep ? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep ?, by peterstank 

The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.

“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”

Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is completely fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”

“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”

or: five times peter doesn’t sleep + the one time he does

Five Times Peter and Tony Had Each Other’s Back, by Sahiya

... and One Time They Needed Help.

Peter is Tony’s Biological Child

I Had the Dream Again, by Skeeter_110

Peter calls Tony in the middle of the night crying.

Congratulations, it’s a Boy, by capiocapi 

"Sir, I have the results.”

“Okay, Jarvis. Hit me.”

“It’s a match. 99.9% chance that he is your biological son, which is the percentage needed to be recognized by law as a biological parent.”

Tony’s stomach did a funny swooping dance. “Great. Congratulations to me then, eh? It’s a boy.”

You Are My Sunshine, by @iamconstantine

Tony Stark had always been a man of science and he always would be. It was his personal and fundamental belief that everything had an explanation. His eventual encounters with Norse gods, alien life, and sorcerers did kind of quake this a little bit, but still.

One thing that had always confounded him as the one thing that had no scientific explanation was fate. Murphy’s law, Finagle’s law, the butterfly effect, the domino effect, the snowball effect, and the wisest of all: “Shit happens.”

So how peculiar was it that one of the greatest things to ever happen to him began with a tray of champagne?

Serie i love you more than anything, by @iron--spider 

The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31– from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos

May’s abusive boyfriend trope 

A Peter Parker Problem, by @spagbol99

Peter Parker was back from the dead. At least that is what everybody told him. He'd been snapped out of existence until some sort of time travel and an active death wish by his mentor had saved him and the universe. Just your average sort of life for a 16 year old from Queens.

Peter comes back to find May has a husband and a kid. A new family he has to fit into. But he has done it before, he can do it again.

The only thing that feels solid is Tony: the Blip and fatherhood have mellowed him and Peter loves the bond they have now. He knows Tony would be there for him through anything. But Tony needs to focus on his own recovery - not small time Peter Parker problems. When things at home take a turn for the worse, Peter decides that he'll handle it himself. He is Spider-man. He's been to space and fought aliens. He can get through anything. After all, if May is happy, he is happy, right? Right?

(again, I’ve read a lot more but can’t find it...)

Peter Parker Whump (everyone’s favorite trope)

Danger Pizza, by alice_in_ink

The window was pushed open, and Iron Man’s head popped into his bedroom. “Here’s where I’m confused—why lock the front door but leave the fire-escape-accessible windows unlocked?” He clambered through said window. “Seems like a safety hazard.”

Peter eyed the metal suit as it straightened to a standing position. “Did you break into my window to kill me?”

The face plate lifted, and Tony’s eyes quickly looked over the teen. “Christ, kid. It looks like you’re halfway there.”

...

A wild night on patrol leaves Peter with a broken back, and boy, does he want to be able to move without dying. (So he calls Anthony Stark, obviously.)

If You Can’t Catch A Breath (You Can Take The Oxygen Straight Out Of My Own Chest), by @losingmymindtonight

"And I would hurry. Little Peter is about to be under quite a lot of pressure, and it might get a little hard to breathe.”

I’ve Got You, by @thedumbestavenger

Peter runs into a Copycat Vulture out on patrol, from there, everything escalates.

Meetings and Migraines, by AllThingsGeeky

Peter has another migraine at an unfortunate time and despite his best efforts he can’t ignore it forever.

The Most Important Thing In The World, by S0lstice

Peter’s door creaked and began to bend under the force of the crowbar and for the first time since regaining consciousness, fear began to press into him. Something very bad was happening and it was happening fast - too fast for his sluggish mind to keep up.

He went with his instincts instead, the first one always being, Help Mr. Stark.

Friendly Fire, by @jolinarjackson

Finding a careful truce with the government, the “rogue Avengers” are allowed to return to the Compound where they are put under house arrest. Peter coming to spend one week at the Compound during his summer break couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time as the opportunity to bond a little more with his mentor is overshadowed by a conflict he doesn’t quite understand. When he starts to develop a mysterious medical condition, however, the former team is forced to work together – not just to protect Peter’s identity from the DODC, but also to find the cause for his illness before it’s too late.

“He’s my kid,” Tony said, his voice hoarse. “He’s my kid and I failed him.” He covered his eyes and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. “All I ever do is fail him.” Natasha knelt down in front of him and cupped his face in her hands, waiting for him to meet her eyes before she said, “Right now, he doesn’t need you to fix this. He doesn’t need you down here. He needs you over there, in the medbay, by his side.” She thumbed tears from the corners of his eyes and ignored the ones running down her own face. “You haven’t failed him yet.”

alarm bells and panic levels, by @iron--spider

Tony lands heavy on the dock, the wood splintering hard under the metal suit. He’s having trouble breathing, his nose is bleeding, he most definitely has more than the recommended amount of broken ribs. But none of that fucking matters. The sky is clear, the assholes are down, but there’s one thing missing.

He looks over his shoulder when Rhodey lands too. His suit is dented in a few places but other than that he looks alright. His face mask flips up and Tony lets his mask retract.

“Where’s Peter?” Tony asks, his voice rough with the amount of yelling he’s been doing. Fuck these stupid assholes. They were supposed to go mini-golfing today. The kid had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Rhodey looks around, breathing hard through his mouth. “I thought you knew.”

there’s something wrong, by @iron--spider

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Tony whispers. “We should have checked you for something like this when we were resetting your arm and checking on the concussion. Goddamnit. We didn’t think.”

“He poisoned us both?” Peter asks, trying to open one eye to look at him.

“Yeah,” Tony says, brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead. “He’s dying. He got the brunt of it, a nice fucking cocktail of bullshit, including mercury and a bunch of other toxic shit—”

“Am I dying?” Peter whispers, voice breaking.

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces), by aloneintherain

Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

“Spidey, they’ve got reinforcements. We’ve hit a bit of a snag here, and I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can sit tight while we deal with this?”

The pressure on his lower back and legs was becoming too much. Peter swallowed thickly, fighting down panic. He could handle this.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I can do that.”

Collections/Series (’cause I could make an inventory of all @iron--spider stories, you know, but you have to read all of her work, if you haven’t yet) (God she doesn’t even know who I am)

iron dad bingo, by @iron--spider

stay at home, by @iron--spider

whumptober, by @iron--spider

Whumptober 2019, by @marvelous-writer

Day in the life of the Iron Family, by @marvelous-writer 

The Tumblr Archives, by @losingmymindtonight

Everything comes back to you, by @losingmymindtonight

Nice work, kid, by @madasthesea

Irondad Bingo 2019, by sahiya 

The Adventures of Spidy-son and Iron-dad, by eva7673

Tony adopts Peter (why everyone kills May, btw ?)

Accepting the Tides, by @emma--anacortes

Tony had dragged Peter from the depths of despair after May's death. It was normal that he'd grown to care a little about him, right?

Yeah, okay. He freaking loved the kid.

So naturally he would feel a little weird when Richard Parker randomly shows up in Peter's life. Naturally he'd feel protective, nervous, and confused because where has Richard been all this time? And why does Tony feel sick every time he sees him around Peter?

All he knows is if Richard hurts his kid, Tony's gonna give him hell.

Series Out of Darkness, by @starryknight09

“Is this Peter Parker?”

“Yes…”

“This is Dr. Nguyen. I’m sorry but your aunt’s been in an accident and we’re going to need you to come to Queens Memorial as soon as you can.”

Peter's life shatters with a phone call. The last person he expects helps him pick up the pieces.

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 10]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, guided masturbation, dirty talk, jun being a wild one, sad?????angst(sorry), mentions of break-ins/theft, yet again this chapter was meant to be shorter but here we are 😭🍒 more plot than anything else but enjoy! and as always, thank you so much for your support and interest in Cherry Bomb!! 😭💕💕💕 have a good weekend and don’t forget my halloween intro post goes up tomorrow as well!! stay hydrated bbys!!💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - ?

“Damn.”

Seungcheol sits beside you Friday morning, lips pressed into a firm line when he sees the five-digit number staring back at him from your revenue page. 

“Yeah, it’s---I--I’m…”

The two of you fall into a tense silence as you both stare at the exorbitant amount of money that the videos have made, unsure of what to say or even think.

“Um, I mean, o-obviously you get a cut of the money too, ‘Cheol! You’re half the video so…”

“Yeah, but even so, that’s---that’s an insane amount of money we made off of, what, three videos?”

You nod back slowly, sighing as you rest against the back of the sofa. “I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t think… they’d do that well. Like, not saying we suck! We obviously don’t, but just… I didn’t think they’d do that well.”

Seungcheol laughs, leaning back against the cushions as he meets your blushing face. “I could quit my job and just cam with you for this amount of money. I mean, this much off of three videos? Imagine if we were regulars together.”

The thought alone sends your mind into a flurry of various ideas; biting your lip as you lean into Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“Hey, I have an idea for tomorrow’s show but remind me to ask you later!”

hoshi_tiger_xx: still out of town baby?

sleepy_wonu: i feel like you moved and you’re just not ready to tell us lol

Seungcheol smirks reading the comments; eyes flitting over to you from his place on the sofa.

“Moved? I wish! This place is probably waaaay more than my own rent though~” You pause, letting the sound of donations sound off and comments fly past on your laptop screen. “And I’m probably heading home tomorrow so get ready to say bye to this backdrop!” You pout.

therealchan99: can we quickly discuss those videos tho

angelhan: actually yes

Biting your lip, you note that Seungcheol’s eyes are already on you and that you’ve already hit the donation minimum to start your show. “Well…” You start pushing the straps of your bra down, unhooking the back until you can toss the flimsy material off. “What do you guys want to know? You know I kiss and tell~”

dom.cheol: how does he gets you so fuckin wet, baby?

alphagyu97: ur not rly friends are u? Is he ur bf?

alphagyu97: im not pressed either im just curious!!!

universe_WZ: thats what they all say

chwenon: yooo that last vid was fuckin fire tho

tangerine_kwan has donated $50

tangerine_kwan: is he ever gonna join u on cam? think u guys would be good

“Hmm~ Well, let’s start with dom.cheol’s question…” You shoot the camera a sultry smirk as you spread your legs; fingertips already dancing along the lace of your panties. “It’s really not hard~ He’s really good at what he does, y’know? Knows how to talk to me and get my panties wet~”

xcaliburDK: is he good looking

kitty_junjun: probably not as well as me 🤪

gentleman_josh95: stop while u r ahead

Letting out a soft giggle, you watch as Seungcheol rounds the sofa, leaning up against the back of it as he faces you. He keeps his phone in hand, thumb still dancing across the keyboard.

dom.cheol: he has to punish you so often though, baby.

artist8hao: i know, whats gotten into u babygirl? Why r u acting out so much?

“‘Cause I like it when he punishes me~” You lick your lips as you hook your thumbs into your panties, slowly guiding them down your legs. “But I like it when he’s sweet to me too~” Your eyes dance up to Seungcheol, tossing the material his way before speaking.

“Won’t you be sweet to me now?”

alphagyu97: oh shit hes there

universe_WZ: let him fuck your pretty pussy on cam baby

“Aww, I’d love that but he’s still a ‘lil too shy for a live show!” You run your fingertips through your folds, collecting the wetness on them before you bring them to your lips. “But not shy enough to lend your voice, maybe?”

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

Seungcheol makes sure to raise his voice enough so that he’s within earshot of the mic; adrenaline rushing through his veins when he, too, notices the sudden influx of comments and donations at his sudden appearance. “My baby’s been good today though, hasn’t she?” Nodding, you get lost in Seungcheol’s firm stare as the sound of donations and comments fire off in the background.

“Mmhmm~ So why don’t you guide me and show me how a good girl gets rewarded?”

He sets his phone down onto the back of the sofa precariously, both hands in the pockets of his sweats as he watches you. “Normally, good girls get to sit on my cock but we’ll save that for another time, baby. For now, why don’t you get those fingers nice and wet for me? Let them see how good that mouth of yours is.”

therealchan99: those pretty lips that look so good around a cock, just like i thought

sleepy_wonu has donated $100

sleepy_wonu: fuck yeah

You make sure your fingers are properly wet before you drag them down your body, soft sighs on your lips. “Don’t tease me too much though, okay?” Seungcheol grins in return, picking up his phone and sending a quick donation to keep up appearances before he glances your way again.

“Of course. So why don’t you play with that cute ‘lil clit of yours. Bet it’s still nice and sensitive after last night, huh?”

A stuttered moan falls from your lips the second you start rubbing slow circles on your clit; eyes fluttering shut at the memory alone.

xcaliburDK: fuck, all that cum spilling out of her cunt was hot

artist8hao: bet she was nice and full huh? Such a shame she wasted it

Seungcheol chuckles under his breath, “Right? Guess I’ll just have to fuck it deeper into her pussy next time.” You can’t help but clench around emptiness as you pinch your clit between your fingers at his words.

“Ngh, he made me come home with cum trickling down my thighs…” You whimper, “Not that I minded.”

“She begged me to fuck her in the shower too. Wanted me to mark you up real pretty, didn’t you? So that all your viewers could see.”

“Mmhmm…” He watches as you slowly slide your fingers down your folds to your entrance before they slide back up to your clit. “Why don’t you put two fingers in, hmm? Pretend they’re mine while you fuck yourself on them.”

kitty_junjun: aww her fingers are so small compared to yours

gentleman_josh95: bet its not even enough for her anymore huh?

dom.cheol: probably not

You slowly ease in two fingers at once; moaning when you sink them knuckle deep. “O-oh, fuck… Wha--what should I do n-next?”

“Fuck yourself on them, baby. Go however fast or slow you want to. Make yourself cum on your fingers.” He pauses; running a hand through his hair before he shoots you a devilish smirk. “But tell me how badly you wish it were me, ‘cause we both know you do.”

alphagyu97: wheeew lets hear it babygirl

tangerine_kwan: yea baby tell us

“It’s---It’s not the s-same… ‘Cause your fingers are b-bigger than mine…” You whimper, “And--a-ah, and they’re longer too…” Scissoring your fingers, you let out a breathy moan when you start thrusting your fingers faster into yourself.

“I wish it were your fingers, knuckle deep inside my pussy and making me cum. F-fuck, and stretching me open…”

You place your thumb on your clit; rubbing harsh circles on the nub as you chase your high. 

Seungcheol watches with keen eyes, the way your heels dig into the sheets and the way your brows furrow in concentration; licking his lips when he can tell you’re already close to your orgasm.

“Now let’s see that pretty pussy cum, sweetheart.”

You towel your hair off after your shower; shuffling towards the living area as Seungcheol settles into his makeshift bed on the sofa.

“Don’t you want to sleep in the bed with me for once, ‘Cheol?”

His lips press into a lopsided smile, “Are you asking because it’s your last night here?”

“Maybe~”

He lets out a breathy laugh as he reaches for his pillow, gesturing you back towards his bed. “By the way, what was your idea for your show?” You sit cross-legged on the bed just as Seungcheol sets his pillow back against the headboard.

“...How do you feel about maybe filming with me at my place?” He quirks a brow at you just as he settles onto what he deems his side of the bed for the night. “Do tell.” He has a vague idea of where this is heading, but he lets you continue; curiosity eating away at him the longer you hesitate.

“Well, I was thinking… Maybe, and only if you’re okay with it, but… I was thinking maybe you could drive me back to my place? And I know it’s about an hour out from here but I’ll pay gas money! And we can just start heading towards my apartment a little before my show starts. That way you can use toys on me ‘n stuff. And I don’t mind if you spend the night either ‘cause it’ll probably be kinda late when we finish...”

Seungcheol nods; already thinking about the possibilities with the amount of toys you had at your place compared to his. “I mean, yeah, why not? And don’t worry about the gas money, I think we’ve both made enough money this week to last us a while.”

You can only pout in return, laying on your stomach next to Seungcheol who stares up at the ceiling. “Speaking of which… What’re we gonna do now?”

“What do you mean?”

Sighing, you run your fingers through your damp hair. “I mean… What are we going to do about the videos? Are--Are we still going to film together?”

His lips press into a firm line as a million thoughts run through his mind; he’d thought about it a lot himself the past few days since. “I have an idea but I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.”

“Shoot, we’ve got nothin’ to lose I don’t think!”

Seungcheol eases onto his side as he meets your stare, “First of all, I don’t mind filming more videos with you. And to be honest, it’ll probably take me a bit of time before I’m okay with showing my face but I don’t mind being on your live cam shows either, if we can figure out some camera angles. But the thing is… I think if we’re going to be filming together, you need to change your filming schedule.”

Panic runs through you for a second at the idea but you quickly push it aside to hear his suggestion. “How so?”

“Well, right now you’re doing shows on Fridays and Saturdays, every other Monday and every other Wednesday, right? Your next show is Wednesday which is fine but I think if we end up filming videos together regularly, we need to adjust how often you actually cam and how often we post pre-recorded videos. ‘Cause let’s be real, you’d be way too tired if you kept it that frequent. Three live shows a week and filming with me? It’s way too much for you.”

This time, it’s your lips that press into a firm line. But Seungcheol was right. There was no way you could keep your normal schedule on top of filming with him in between. “That… That makes sense. What are we gonna do about, uh, I mean---’cause we don’t really live near each other…” Mumbling, you trail off, hoping that Seungcheol knew the answer.

“Hmm, well, you can keep your Friday shows and then I can swing by on the weekends. We can film a few videos over the weekend, even if they’re just short ones, or even film long ones and then you can just cut them into shorter pieces. So, in theory, you’d only do two live shows a week and one upload of both of us? We can figure out everything else as we go in terms of splitting profits and stuff.”

You nod at his suggestion, feeling better about the idea. “That sounds reasonable! I’ll have to make a notice for my page but hopefully it shouldn’t be too big of a change…”

Seungcheol yawns as he stretches, eyes filled with sleep when he looks at you.

“We don’t have to do anything too soon either. Those videos are still makin’ money so let’s get some sleep!”

You and Seungcheol spend the Saturday afternoon driving around town; even going so far as to drop by the roller rink one last time to say your thanks and goodbye to Jeongguk.

“The two of you are somethin’ else, man. Really. With my whole heart, I just--I love it.” He pretends to wipe a tear off of his face as you and Seungcheol share a look.

“Promise me you’ll think of my offer?”

You nod in return, a soft giggle escaping your lips. “I promise! Seungcheol tells me you stream often yourself so I feel like I can trust you but only if you get my good side too!” This time Jeongguk’s eyes light up with excitement as he reaches for your hands over the concession stand counter.

“Oh my god, if---if I promise to give you half a cut of profits, would you show up on my gaming stream? You don’t even have to be good, just if we collabed, I really think---”

“Okay, ‘Guk, I think that’s enough for now. You can ask her a thousand questions next time.” You pat Jeongguk’s hands as he pouts. “I’ll think about it, okay?” You whisper under your breath; a small smile on his lips as he nods back.

“Don’t be a stranger!”

Seungcheol links his hand with yours as he leads you out of the roller rink and back to his car; eyes flitting to his watch to check the time. “We’ve got time to have dinner and then we probably need to hit the road after.” You nod, “Sounds good! Where are we headin’ for dinner?”

“‘Guk and I went to this diner called ‘Dynamite’ a while back… The food’s alright and I haven’t taken you there yet so we can go there if you’re okay with it?”

“Sounds good!”

Seungcheol pulls into the parking lot of the diner 30 minutes later as the same neon signs greet him back. He parks near the entrance again, noting that it seemed fairly empty this time as well.

“I wonder if the guy is still here…” He mutters as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “What guy?”

The two of you exit his car; jogging up to him as he waits for you. “Just the guy who was our server when I was here with ‘Guk. He seemed familiar and it was weird.”

Seungcheol opens the door for you, letting you in first as the cold AC blasts you.

“Welcome to Dynamite, I’m Jun and I----Oh fuck!” Jun drops the menus in his hand, lips settling into a wide smile as he walks up to you and Seungcheol, tripping on his own feet as he meets you at the door. “I’m a big fan!” He harshly whispers. You blink up at him just before your eyes flit down to his pastel coloured name tag.

Jun.

Jun.

Oh. kitty_junjun.

“O-oh, you’re---you’re kitty_junjun aren’t you?” You whisper back; already noting that he was quite handsome himself.

Fuck, are all my regulars hot?

“That’s me, baby! And oh--you! It’s you! I remember you from last time! You were with that other guy! Are you… y’know. The guy.” Jun wiggles his eyebrows as he steps back and picks up two menus from the counter. Seungcheol mentally grimaces but he nods.

“That’d be me.”

Jun’s eyes light up with enthusiasm as he gestures for the two of you to follow him towards the seating area. “I’m such a huge fan, really! Of Cherry and, well, really both of you now.” He leads you to a booth before he sets the menus down onto the table. “I hope you don’t mind but I volunteer to be your server and the milkshakes are on me tonight!” Finishing with a wink, he leaves the two of you alone as he walks back towards the counter.

“Wow, ‘Cheol when you said small town, you really meant it, huh?” Giggling, you take in Seungcheol’s mildly embarrassed appearance. “Hey, you’re famous!”

Am I famous? He thinks, Or is it just my dick?

“So that’s three people that could clock me in person… I mean, I guess it could be worse.” He mumbles; cheeks flushed pink when he sees Jun walking back towards your table. Jun leans against the booth, nodding as he props a hand on his hip.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you guys. It’s just, I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity!” He laughs, “I’d ask for your autograph but then I think that’d be a little too weird.”

You can’t help but giggle at his comment, turning slightly to face him better. “Guess you were right when you said you thought you saw me, huh?” He snaps his fingers as the memory comes back to him in an instant.

“You’re right! Fuck, I almost forgot about that. Man, I thought I was having a fever dream.”

Jun stares off to the side before he fixes his gaze onto Seungcheol; eyes wide. “Hey, I never caught your name, I don’t think?” Seungcheol gulps, hoping that Jun doesn’t connect the dots as easily as Jeongguk did.

“It’s Seungcheol.”

“Oh… okay! Well, cool, are you guys ready to order?”

He lets out a breath he doesn’t realize he was holding as you relay your order to Jun; lips falling into a shaky smile as he gives his order to Jun once you were done.

“Okay! I’ll be back in a little bit!” Jun shoots the two of you a smile before he leaves the two of you alone again.

“Well, this is an interesting Saturday if I do say so myself!” Seungcheol can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of him; shaking his head at the way you seem to take it so easily. “I can’t believe you’re so chill about running into people that know you!”

“Like you said, ‘Cheol! It could be worse~” You pause, “This one time I was at the grocery store and this older man came up to me and said he recognized me. I was like, cool, y’know? I know my viewers are all different ages so I don’t judge. But then, two kids came up to him calling him ‘daddy’ and I literally bolted out of that place before his wife could find me!”

The two of you share a laugh before changing the topic; only stopping when Jun comes by with your orders, twenty minutes later.

“Hey, this is kinda random but it’s not so busy right now, so… Did you wanna sit with us and chat?” You offer as your eyes dance between Seungcheol and Jun. The latter’s eyes twinkle with excitement as he sets the last plate down.

“Wait, seriously? I can take my 15 if you’re being serious!” This time, you look to Seungcheol for his opinion, already noticing the way he seems more relaxed.

“Yeah, that’s cool with me.”

Jun all but runs off to tell his manager as you scoot over to give him space when he gets back. “I’m surprised you asked if he wanted to sit with us while we had dinner.”

“Why not? He seems nice! And we’re making friends!” Seungcheol nods in agreement just as he starts eating and just as Jun makes it back to the booth with a milkshake of his own.

You pat the empty spot next to you as he gasps slightly. “I feel like the second luckiest man on earth.”

He slides into the booth next to you, making sure to keep a reasonable distance. “Hey! You’ve got a show tonight so… are you two, y’know…” Seungcheol makes a conscious effort to not choke on his food as he chews slower than he usually would; eyes flitting over to you just as you set your utensils down.

“Um, yeah! We don’t really know what we’re gonna do yet but no spoilers okay~ Nobody knows what he looks like, Junnie!” You pout. Jun can only vibrate in his seat; a pink blush on his cheeks at the sudden nickname.

“Of course! My lips are sealed shut! And well, if you’re ever back in town, I’ll give you guys my employee discount if you swing by!” He grins.

The three of you talk about various topics within Jun’s fifteen minute break, thankfully none that involve camming. Jun pouts when his time is up, a sigh on his lips when he stands. “Damn, well, I guess I’ll see you later then, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows, chuckling.

“Just wave me over if you guys need anything, okay?”

The rest of dinner goes on without issue and Seungcheol finds himself in a lighter mood than when the two of you first arrived at the diner.

You make sure to leave Jun a big tip, winking at him on your way out.

“Ready to head home after a week?” Seungcheol shoots you  a sad smile as he walks you to the passenger’s side of his car. He opens the door for you and lets you in before shutting it and jogging to the driver’s side.

“I mean, it’s not like we’re not gonna see each other anymore. If anything we’re gonna be seeing each other fairly regularly since you’re gonna come over to film!”

Seungcheol nods as he sets your apartment into his GPS; pulling out of the driveway as he begins the hour drive to your place.

“Yeah, and I mean, we can figure out what schedule works better as we go. Maybe we only need to film every other week or something too, right?”

“Mmhmm! I’ll start drafting a notice for the schedule change tomorrow and then I’ll run it by you before it goes up.”

The hour drive seems to go by quicker than you expect as the two of you spend the time singing along to songs on the radio; judging Seungcheol’s impeccable vocal skill when a rock song comes on.

“Wow, I--I didn’t know you had the vocal cords to do that, ‘Cheol!” He takes his eyes off of the road for a split second to shoot you a cocky grin.

“I’m pretty good at karaoke. We should go next time! Maybe invite all of our new friends.”

You snort in response, slapping his arm as he pulls into a residential part of town. “And if the person working the front desk of the karaoke place knows us?”

“Then we invite them in too!”

A slight blush paints your cheeks when you realize how much Seungcheol seemed to have relaxed in the last few days, if not hours. You knew it was never easy to get used to being recognized in person and there were still a lot of times where even you were flustered in person. 

“Hey, what’s going on over there?” Seungcheol’s concerned voice has you immediately peering through the window; eyebrows furrowed when you see the police cars parked outside of your apartment complex.

“W--wait that’s my--my apartment complex, ‘Cheol pull over!”

He parks the car a little closer to the scene; getting out of the car with you as the dread becomes more and more evident on your face. “Hey, I’m here with you, okay? Maybe it’s just nothing.” He offers; simultaneously knowing that his words were currently going in one ear and out the other.

The two of you walk hand in hand up to the front where you spot your landlord standing with a police officer. You call her name as she turns to you, gesturing for you to come closer.

“Didn’t you get my text message? Or any of my calls from the last 45 minutes?” You shake your head no in response, eyes dancing to Seungcheol who’s expression matches your own. “No--No I--I was out at dinner, I didn’t even hear my phone go off. What’s going on here?”

She sighs, arms crossed in front of her chest as the police officer clears his throat. “Well, Miss, there were a few break-ins tonight here. There’s a lot of broken glass and a lot of missing items. Thankfully nobody was injured but unfortunately we’re going to be running an investigation so it could take some time.”

“I--w--what about m-my apartment?” Your landlord sighs, “I’m sorry, honey, but your apartment was one of them, I---hey!”

You all but drag Seungcheol with you as you start making your way towards the entrance of the complex, panic and adrenaline guiding you as you all but throw the front door open. The sounds of the officer and your landlord shouting your name become fuzzy as you make your way through the halls; side stepping the stray items that were left on the floor. You make it to your hall when you notice a police officer standing at your front door that seems to have almost been ripped from the hinges.

“Miss, you can’t be in here, we’re---”

“This is my apartment, please just let me in!”

The officer standing at your apartment door notes the distress in your voice and sighs, “Show me some ID and I can let you in.” You quickly fish out your ID as he cross-references it with his documents. “Alright, go ahead. Please just don’t touch any of the hard surfaces.”

Your palm feels clammy against Seungcheol’s as you step into your apartment; shaky gasps on your lips when you notice the items strewn about. “O-oh my god…”

Seungcheol squeezes your hand tight, unsure of what to say. This was definitely the last thing he would’ve expected to happen at the end of your one week stay with him.

You can’t help the tears that threaten to spill as you look around your apartment and Seungcheol quickly notes the glassy look in your eyes when you turn to face him. Seungcheol quickly turns to the officer, voice stern. “I’m sorry to ask but can you give us a second alone, please? This is a lot for her to take in.” The officer nods as he steps back into the hallway.

“Baby? Tell me how you’re feeling, sweetheart.”

It only takes a split second before you’re sobbing into Seungcheol’s chest; his arms wrapping tightly around you.

He rubs your back gently, cooing to you softly as you let out your emotions. “Seungcheol, I, hic, wh--what am I--I, hic, g-gonna d-do? I…” You trail off as your mind goes a mile a minute. He’s unsure of how to comfort you, eyes taking in the ransacked room.

“We--we should probably talk to the officer outside? Figure out what’s going on. I--I mean, you’re definitely coming home with me. I’m not leaving you here like this and with nowhere to go.”

You pull away from his chest, tears still streaming down your face when you look up at him. Seungcheol feels his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. God please, I’d do anything to make sure she never cries like this again, he thinks.

“But my--my s-stuff, I--this--”

“I know, baby, I know. Let’s just both be thankful you weren’t here when they broke in, okay? We can replace the material stuff.” He smooths your hair down and wipes your cheeks, leaning down until he’s at eye level with you.

“I promise you, we’ll figure it out, okay? I’m not leaving you until we do.”

Nodding, you let Seungcheol take your hand as he brings you back to the front door where the officer is. “Hello? Excuse me?”

“Yes?”

Seungcheol looks your way before clearing his throat. “We just want to know what happened to my girlfriend’s apartment.” You squeeze his hand, hiding behind him.

“Well, we can’t really know for sure. A few other apartments were broken into. For some, the locks were picked and for others, it seemed like they just used blunt force against the doors until they gave way. Unfortunately, seeing as this is a gated apartment complex, the hallways don’t have any security cameras and we have no idea how the suspects got in past the gate.” The officer pauses for a moment as he lets his words sink in. “Usually with cases like this, a lot of the material goods eventually show up in local pawn shops or even just discarded in near-by trash containers. And judging from the building history, this isn’t the first time these burglars came by. This seems to be the second time. But that’s all we know for now. I suggest you pack some of your things and hang tight in a hotel until we get more info because, unfortunately, your door is ready to fall off of the hinges and we need to get a detective in here to see if there’s any fingerprints on the surfaces.”

“Will there be someone patrolling this place all night? How are we sure they won’t come back?”

“We’ll have an officer posted at all times, young man. I promise you nobody will get back in here.”

The tears stream down your cheeks as you quietly stand behind Seungcheol; lip quivering as Seungcheol thanks the officer for the information before turning to face you again.

“‘Ch--Cheol, what’re w-we, hic, gonna d-do now?” Your voice sounds so small to him as you keep your eyes focused on the floor.

“Has your apartment been broken into before? Be honest with me.” 

“O--once, but--but it w-wasn’t this bad...” He clenches his jaw at your words. How the fuck did this happen before without anyone finding out? “Wait, so this has happened in the past? And you never said anything?” You peer up at him, eyelashes wet with tears. 

“It, hic, they--they didn’t take as much s-stuff that t-time. But--but now I’m, hic, won--wondering if they were just s-scouting...” Seungcheol’s vision goes red; knowing exactly what he wanted to do and say but unsure of the possible outcome.

Fuck, screw it.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do, sweetheart.” He pauses, exhaling deeply before he continues. “We’re gonna pack a bag, take all your important things that you can find. I don’t care if we have to fill up my entire car with your things. And you’re coming home with me. I don’t care if you have to break the lease on this place, but I can’t in good conscience know you’re living here if people are breaking into it like this.” You open your mouth to speak, brows furrowed. “But--”

“No! No buts this time. I--I can have Jeongguk help with moving. I’m sure Seokjin-hyung can take his shift at the roller rink for one day to help us move your things. And we’ll figure things out as we go.”

“The r-rent, I--”

Seungcheol shoots you a small smile as he tilts your head up to meet his soft and warm eyes. “Please, don’t worry about something like that right now. I’m just happy you’re okay. And that you weren’t here alone where I couldn’t help you.”

You nod shakily, hands covering Seungcheol’s as he holds your face in his hands. “Seungcheol, I’m so--so sorry, I--I don’t even k-know where to start, I--this is---it’s all just so much. Really I can just---just get a h-hotel and you can g-go home...” The tears threaten to spill again but Seungcheol quickly tugs you into his inviting arms. 

This was by-far not at all how he expected to end his weekend. And he could only assume you felt the same way.

“I know it’s a lot. But we’re good at figuring things out on the fly, right? You have to trust me on this one. You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. But for right now, I think you need to hurry and post a notice that there’s no show tonight while I look for your luggage so we can grab some things and get out of here, okay?” 

He releases you from his hold, leaning down to kiss you on the forehead. 

“I’ll fix it, I promise.”

[tinytonysnark]

Hi Nisha love, Stevetony for #40 (Making a goofy face until they notice and laugh) in the 50 wordless ways to say I love you prompt list if you're so inspired? <3

40. Making a goofy face until they notice and laugh. 2.1K words, stevetony, fluff, tw: Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting

six

The first thought Steve ever has about Tony is, he looks sad.

He’s making his way into the school by himself, cause he’s grown now — his Ma’s car is still at the drop-off where he can see her still blowing kisses at him through the window, but who’s gonna know — when his eyes land on them. 

There’s a man standing in front of a boy who looks smaller than Steve does, something he didn’t even know was possible — and the boy looks sad, shoulders hunched in and staring at the ground while the man seems to be scolding him, like his Ma does sometimes when he gets into a fight with the boys down the road. 

But unlike Steve, the boy doesn’t stare back and let it be known that those boys had it coming for talking like that with his chest puffed up because he’s mad — and not at all because he’s pulling in big gulps of air. 

Steve can’t see what the man’s face must be like since his back is to him but he imagines it must be angry and that just makes him angry  cause the man seems like a big old bully and Steve hates bullies.

If the man wasn’t a grown up Steve might have just gone over there to tug the boy away and yell at the man about maybe picking on somebody his own size, but he promised his Ma he wouldn’t get into trouble — well, not on the first day at least. 

So instead, he sticks his tongue out at the man, blowing a raspberry at him that he doesn’t hear.

But the boy does. 

He looks, eyes darting up and around the man to stare at Steve who must have a silly look on his face because the boy looks a little shocked and his ears go red but there’s a smile, there and gone before he quickly looks back down at his feet. 

Steve decides then and there that this boy is going to be his friend and he waits for him, the man leaving with a dismissive wave as he walks over to his very shiny car. 

The boy watches him leave before making his way over to Steve, shoulders still hunched but not staring at the pavement anymore. “Hi. You - you didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Course I did,” Steve says with a shrug. “You and me are gonna be friends. I’m Steve Rogers,” he says, sticking his hand out for a shake. 

The boy stares at his outstretched hand for a moment before taking it with sweaty hands, “I’m Tony Stark and I - I really want to be your friend.”

“Well good, cause we’re going to be best friends,” Steve says confidently, dragging Tony through the front doors. “Come on, we can’t be late on our first day.”

[continue on AO3] or

***

twelve

“I’m just sayin’ that if you don’t come over for blueberry pie after Ma specifically baked it with you in mind, she’s gonna throw a fit,” Steve tells him, feet swinging under him because these benches were so high. 

Not because he’s short. 

It’s not. 

Tony’s hands are fidgeting, his fingernails plucking at the skin of his nail beds and Steve doesn’t even think about it when he reaches over to pry them apart. 

Tony just moves on to biting at the skin on his bottom lip. “Howard will be really mad if I miss dinner. He says the people coming over could really make or break the the company and he wants to make a good impression.”

His laugh is derisive when he tells Steve, “We have to be the picture perfect family complete with the great businessman but who’s also a loving father, the doting wife and mother with me staring as the golden son. What could possibly go wrong?”

Steve’s face must have morphed into the strange expression he does whenever Tony mentions anything about his home life because when he looks up from the plate of fries he’s not eating he gives a snort of laughter which only makes him embarrassed, covering his mouth like that would force it back in. 

“Shut up, you didn’t hear that,” Tony says, cheeks going pink. 

“Hear what?” Steve grins, swiping a handful of fries.

“Hey!”

“What? You’re gonna come over to eat my food so now I’m stealing yours,” Steve tells him. “Listen, you’re coming over today. Ma can be scary when she wants to be and not even your dad can stop her.”

Tony goes back to chewing on his lip. 

“Hey, trust me,” Steve says, grabbing at Tony’s hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

Tony looks down at their hands before looking right at Steve. “Okay.”

It doesn’t occur to him until much, much later that he and Tony held hands all through lunch and neither one had said anything. 

***

fourteen

They’re sitting in Math class — and why Tony is even in this class confuses Steve considering how smart he is — when he realises Tony isn’t paying attention to a single thing Mr.Vanko is saying. 

He’s staring at his phone, hidden behind his open textbook and he’s taking a selfie that Steve is just going to assume he’s sending to Rhodes because —

Because the other option is assuming he’s gonna send it to Stone who is a senior and all around jerk and Steve kinda wants to bash his head in whenever he sees the douche hanging around Tony and — well, Tony seems to enjoy Stone’s attention but there’s something not right about that guy and Steve —

Steve is not biased. He isn’t.

He makes a face at the camera when Tony angles the phone again and Tony doesn’t even notice until he looks at the picture.

He stifles a laugh into his hand but Mr. Vanko’s hearing is scary good and he always seems to have it out for Tony anyway so he turns away from the chalkboard to glare at where Tony sits. 

“Something funny, Mr. Stark?’

“No, no, just that you wrote out the equation wrong,” Tony says, shutting his book, his phone wedged between the pages.

“I doubt it,” Mr. Vanko sneers before looking at the board then scowling when he realises Tony is right. 

Steve tries not to roll his eyes because of course Tony is right. 

When he checks his messages later he sees that Tony had sent him the picture, with Tony front and centre but the perspective makes it look like Steve is popping right up from his head with a goofy look on his face.

He makes it his screensaver because really — who’s even going to know?

***

seventeen

Steve says the only reason Tony tries out for cheerleading is to be a rebel and to effectively drive Steve insane. 

Tony tells him that he does it so he can stay in shape since now he has to keep with Steve’s insane growth spurth over the past year and so he can be flexible and Steve — well, Steve tries not to go completely red at the implication in Tony’s tone. 

For all the years they’ve been friends, for all the dancing around they did about how they felt for each other — this, this is still new and real and Steve is completely terrified of messing this up. 

Losing Tony - that’s not even something his brain can comprehend. 

But when he shows up to practice, already making his way over to where the cheerleaders are to say hello and maybe steal a kiss, he thinks that Tony is trying to put him in an early grave because he’s standing there wearing the cheer uniform just —

The crop top and the skirt are fitted so well.  

For some reason, Steve’s brain latches onto the fact that Tony’s belly button is out.

He’s an innie. 

Steve must look an absolute fool right now because the cheerleaders burst into giggles around him, Tony included, who walks up to him and sweet jesus -

He shaved his legs and Steve thinks maybe there’s glittery body oil on them because there’s no way —

“Hi, handsome,” Tony smiles up at him. “You’ve got a real dumb look on your face so I’m assuming you like the uniform.”

Steve tries to say something back but his mouth just feels bone dry at the moment and he has to clear his throat to choke out a simple, “Yeah, baby. I really, really do.”

Tony kisses him, hard and fast -they’re lucky their teeth didn’t clack together - before pushing him off to the field. “Go on number 29! I can’t cheer for you if you’re terrible.”

“Thanks for that,” he says before hauling Tony in to kiss him once more, deeper and leaving him dazed before he runs back to his team. 

He gets a pom-pom thrown at him.

***

twenty-two

There’s a Taylor Swift song blasting from the speakers to commemorate Tony’s birthday but Steve — Steve can’t find Tony anywhere in this strange house he got off-campus that Steve is nearly certain is haunted because why else would it be so cheap it practically a robbery. 

Rhodes had mentioned to check the workshop but that had been the first place he looked anyway and he’s gone through the whole house at this point.

He’s standing by the kitchen before it comes to him and he’s off like a shot up the stairs, nearly bowling people over in his haste. 

He gets to Tony’s room, places the bag on the table and climbs through the windowsill when he spots him, sitting cross-legged on the roof. “Tony?”

The surprise on Tony’s face honestly makes the 4 hour long journey entirely worth it. 

“S-Steve? Ohmygod, Steve!” He yells, jumping up to crash into him and they nearly go skidding off the roof.

“Why don’t we head back in -”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Tony interrupts, “Let’s just sit out here.”

Steve isn’t really one to deny Tony anything, let alone on his birthday and definitely not when he’s beaming like that. 

He tugs Steve down, his back to Steve’s chest. “I - I got worried when you didn’t call. Thought maybe you forgot.”

Steve frowns, “Forgot? Baby, in these last 16 years I have never not once forgotten the most important date on my calendar and I ain’t gonna start now.”

He brings Tony’s hands up to him and places a kiss on the palm, “There was a slight hold up. Just, wait here.”

“There’s only one exit.”

“You say that like you haven’t rolled off a roof to prove a point before,” Steve tells him, reaching through the window to snatch the bag before coming back to sit in front of Tony. 

“Courtesy of the best bakery in New York,” Steve tells him, holding out the cupcake. “Bucky’s kitchen.”

He lights the candle he brought with him and sticks it in the middle. “Make a wish, Tones.”

Tony stares at him with a look so full of love with the flickering of the flame reflecting in his eyes that all the air rushes out of Steve’s lungs.

He blows out the candle before then promptly taking it out and smears the cupcake into Steve’s face that frosting goes up his nose. 

Tony laughs so hard when Steve just stares at him that he nearly does roll off the roof.

Tony makes it up to him by licking up all the frosting though. 

***

twenty-seven

Steve’s hands can’t stop shaking. 

He can’t believe that after months and months of planning, they’re finally here. 

That in just a few short minutes, he’s gonna get to call Tony his husband.

The doors open and Steve thinks his heart might have just stopped as he watches Tony walk towards him, resplendent in his tux and he just knows that the camera is recording his slack jawed expression because Tony is grinning at him as he makes his way down the aisle.

When they’re declared husbands, Steve kisses that grin right off his face and the camera catches their stupefied expressions. 

***

thirty

Tony drops the blanket, yelling out, “Peek-A-Boo!” 

Peter, completely amused, claps his tiny little hands from inside the crib. 

“The betrayal I feel right now is overwhelming,” Steve calls from the door of the nursery. “This is my favourite game.”

He crouches down next to Tony, both hiding behind the blanket before dropping it again, making silly faces. 

“Peek-A-Boo!”

Peter’s shriek of laughter can be heard all through the house.

[brelione]

Love and Hate (The Best Boys)

dude come on. you said you’d upload the next chapter on christmas and now it’s been a whole week after and it’s still not out. :(, hi! when are you posting the next chapter of tbb??, tbb????, Are you posting the next chapter of best boys soon? I miss her, when will you be posting the next part of the best boys series??, Ok I’m over TBB I’m just gonna say she ends up with Blah Blah and they live happily ever after, the end. Thank you for the amazing read, it has been fun❤️, TBB is literally the last series I have to finish before I can finally peace out of the shithole that is the OBX fandom for good but like no rush or anything baby❤️,When do you think you’ll be posting the last chapters of TBB?, Hey queen how’s the writing for best boys going, 

Series Masterlist

SHES HEREEEE

Yes, im aware this chapter is all over the place. I went through writing four different versions of this chapter and this is the one that I decided to go with. I know that this one is kind of a little ahfioshviowenvionae but it all comes together next chapter (I already started writing the next chapter). Im so sorry that this is so late. I’ve been having issues for a little bit. My grandfather and my dog passed away and I recently had a relapse and I think that’s why it was taking me so long. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3

Warnings:Nothing really, swearing and unedited. Also im sorry if you dont like this chapter but like....yeah.

You were awoken to the sounds of screaming.Topper ended up at the foot of the bed, Kelce still clinging onto you.Rafe was absent from his spot but the mattress was still warm and had a slight dent which let you know that he hadnt been gone long.

You had spent most of the night trying to find the perfect spot on the mattress, one arm thrown over kelce and your heel against the back of Toppers thigh.It seemed like it hadnt been a super long time since the sun had risen which meant that it was probably around seven in the morning by now.

Your heart was thumping in your chest, trying to pay attention to what the voices were shouting.Something about a mess and irresponsibility but you couldnt hear much besides that.Rafe stomped up the stairs, opening his door.He was shirtless, face red from yelling and his eyes slightly watery.You sat up, making Kelce grumble.

 Rafe’s jaw was slightly dropped, his nose beginning to run and his body trembling.“Hey, what happened?”You asked, gaining Kelce’s attention.Topper’s eyes opened slightly, looking over at Rafe.The tall boy didnt say anything, he just dragged his feet across the room and sat back on the bed, mumbling.You were hesitant to grip his hand, squeezing lightly.

He just stared at a wrinkle in the blanket but the sound of something breaking downstairs told you that it had been more than just bickering.Kelce was worried, knowing that his parents had gotten home late last night and would see the mess he had created. “He doesnt want me living here anymore.”Rafe spoke up, a few tears rolling down his cheeks.

You pulled him closer to you, arms around his shoulders as he sobbed, your fingers rubbing against the back of his neck.He squeezed you tightly when he head footsteps coming up the stairs, silently praying to any god that would listen that it wouldnt be Ward.Kelce’s phone kept buzzing but he ignored it, knowing exactly what it was.

He knew that it was coming and he would be lying if he said that he didnt expect it, nervous the whole night as he waited for his phone to blow up.“What are you gonna do?”Topper asked.As much as you wanted to scold him for asking that when Rafe clearly didnt want to talk about it it was still something that you had also been wondering.

Rafe didnt answer, taking in a deep, shaky breath that hurt his ribs before picking up his head and looking over to his friend. “I dont know.”He admitted.His voice hurt your heart, the realisation kicking in that there wasnt really many places that he could go.

Kelce’s phone buzzed again, all of your eyes falling on him.He sighed, glancing at his screen.He had missed calls from his parents, dozens of text in all caps telling him to come home immediately. “They found the door.”He replied, keeping his voice calm.A new wave of silence washed over the room, not knowing what to say to that.

Your eyes watered as you remembered how simple life was a few weeks ago, all of you eating breakfast, watching criminal minds and laughing as Topper recorded it all on his snapchat.Now everything was completely falling apart.You didnt say anything, trying to think of a solution.Rafe couldnt go to Kelce’s house or Topper’s house since Topper’s mother had one of those security cameras outside of her home and she’d recognize him immediately.

She was still pissy about Topper’s accident, she’d explode if he let friends over. “SO what happens now?”Topper asked.You were all out of ideas.A simple drive or icecream or a movie couldnt solve any of this. “I mean...think about it.We’re adults, right?Child protective services cant stop us if we leave.”Kelce muttered.Rafe nodded, snapping his fingers.

 “Yeah, yeah!You’re right.”He agreed, causing your eyes to widen.They were acting insane. They couldnt be serious about just getting up and leaving forever, right? “No, no hes not.We cant just-we cant just leave!”You exclaimed.They were actually going crazy.How could they even think like that? “Why?What do you have here, (Y/N)?”He asked.You paused, thinking about it.

You didnt really have anything.You had your house of course but other than that you had nothing but memories and your boys.You didnt want to admit that he was right, letting out a quiet sigh. “But leaving forever isnt the answer.”You muttered.Rafe rubbed your back, shaking his head. “Doesnt have to be forever, baby.”He answered. 

“But- but just cause we arent kids doesnt mean we cant be registered as missing people.They’ll come after us.”You told them.You knew that nobody outside of this room actually cared about you enough to report you as missing but you were scrambling through your thoughts, desperately hunting for a reason to stay on the shitty island that you had learned to love so much.Topper shrugged, not really caring. 

“Guys, guys. Okay, look. You’re all fucked, ill admit it. But thats fine! Are you guys forgetting that I still have a house- you guys can just stay there until this whole thing blows over just like you always have!”You reminded them, hoping they’d agree. “This isnt gonna blow over, (Y/N). I cant come back here.”Rafe told you, becoming aggravated. 

“THEN MOVE IN! All of you guys, you can just move in, okay? You dont have to leave- I still have my moms money! We’ll figure it out as we go and…. And it’ll be fine.”You insisted. “Move in with you?”Rafe asked. You nodded, wiping your nose. “You practically live with me already, it wont be that different.”You told him, gripping his hand.

 It was a messy blur as Rafe packed his things, grabbing anything that he thought could be important. A photo of his mother, his birth certificate and diploma, laptop and ipad, the Frozen ll record. Kelce and Topper just watched, neither of them ready for anything like this so early in the morning. 

Maybe if you werent so tired and upset you wouldnt have said it, but here you were in Rafe’s truck, a dufflebag full of his things at your feet with the boys in the backseat as he drove to your house, a few tears rolling down his cheeks as the thoughts finally took over his brain. Kelce had got aggravated and shut down his phone entirely, staring out the window. 

The last thing you were expecting was to come down your road only to see a car that was practically falling apart already in your driveway, a tall man with his hands over his forehead as he tried to look in your windows. “What the fuck….”Rafe muttered, reaching for the door handle when you gripped his hand. “Dont, we dont know what he’s doing.”You told him, hoping he’d listen.

 Turns out he wasnt the one you had to worry about, Kelce swinging his door open and sprinting up your driveway before anyone could even stop him. Wherever Kelce went Topper went, the boy struggling to get the seatbelt over his cast before jumping out of the truck and nearly falling into a puddle. “ESCUSE ME! MR SIR! WHAT ARE YOU DOING LOOKING IN MY HOUSE?”Kelce shouted, purposely making his voice deeper.

 The man turned, confused as to why two half asleep teenage boys were walking towards him. “Your house?”The man asked. “Yes, sir. You ever heard of a gay couple before?”Topper asked, making Kelce break character for a moment. 

“Well, no, its not that. Its just that I thought this was someone elses house.”The man muttered, confused. You had slid down your seat, hoping that the man wouldnt see you. “He’s about to leave.”Rafe whispered. 

“Who’s the other guy in the car?”The man asked, pointing to Rafe’s figure. Kelce glanced over at Topper with wide eyes, trying to think. “Our son.”Kelce replied, cringing the moment he said it. The man only looked more confused, looking between the two boys. “How old are you guys?”The man asked, clearly not buying their story. 

“Excuse me? Are you saying that we’re too old to have a son? I did not spend years training for a medical degreee to have some random old man come and tell us how old our son can be!”Topper exclaimed.  “I didnt spend years trying to find a surrogate and figuring out a way to make a robot nanny for this!”He sighed, trying his best not to smile.

“Could you please leave the property before we call the police?”Kelce asked. The man was beyond confused at this point, quickly making his way to his shitty car before slowly backing out of the driveway, eyes still scanning the area before he gave up and went down the street. 

You let out a sigh of relief, moving to get up when Rafe placed his hand on top of your head to keep you down. “Hes coming around again.”He whispered to you, taking in a shaky breath and holding it in his lungs as the car passed a second time. Topper and Kelce were standing by the door, staring at Rafe almost as telling him to get out and make a run for it.

 “Open the door in 3...2…”You didnt wait, jumping out and running towards the house, typing in the key pad as quick as you could, Topper’s hand pushing you inside. “Here he comes again!”He exclaimed, coming in right behind you along with the others before Rafe slammed the door shut and locked it, letting out a laugh.

 “Oh god, that was scary.”He chuckled. Kelce and Topper nodded as well, eventually laughing. “Was that my dad?”You asked. “Maybe.”Topper answered. Now that you thought about it, your dad didnt same important. Nothing did. You lived on a huge rock that’s floating around space and you’re concerned about your dad when your boyfriends best friends are moving in.

 “What’d you tell him?”You asked. “We told him that we’re a gay couple, Topper’s a doctor and Rafe is our child.”Kelce replied. You giggled, snorting. “I mean, as you should.”You replied. “Hell yeah.”Kelce grinned. Topper tapped at his arm. “Bro, you wanna get married?”Topper asked. Kelce laughed again, nodding.

 “I’ll get baptised and get you guys married!”Rafe volunteered, all of you turning to look at him. “Did you just say baptised?”Kelce asked. Rafe nodded, eyebrows furrowing. “Is that not the right word?”He asked. Topper shook his head. “The word is ordained.”He informed the tall boy. “He’s trying his best.”You replied, sitting down on the chair that you werent used to sitting in. 

“You think he’s gonna come back?”You asked. Topper groaned, sitting down. “Well, I hope not. I dont want my husband and I to have to fight him.”He grinned. You rolled your eyes, changing positions in the chair. “Did he look like me?”You asked, leaning your head against the arm rest, groaning when Rafe pushed your legs aside and sat down with you.

 “Not really… he had rat tails for eyebrows.”Kelce replied, putting his fingers over his eyebrows. “Do I have rat tail eyebrows?”You asked, grinning when Rafe reached forward and poked your eyebrow, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “You wish.”He replied. “Fuck off.”You answered. “Dont be fucking rude.”He grinned, kissing you quickly before pulling away with a small smile. 

You were shocked, trying to hide your surprise. It wasnt like you werent used to kissing Rafe by now, it was just that he had never done it in front of the boys before. They looked nearly as confused as you, the thought of Rafe kissing you in front of them never even being a concern until now. They were used to him getting most of your love and attention but that had just stirred something within them. 

“So how are we gonna do this? I dont know about you guys but im not going back to my house anytime soon.”Kelce announced. Rafe lifted his head, looking over to the boy. “You could always sneak in your own window to grab your things...maybe wait until theyre at work. What about you, Top?”Rafe asked, turning his attention to the blonde boy. 

“What do I have at my house that I need? Like, really need.”He asked, grinning when none of you could answer. “Problem solved.”He replied. “What time is it?”Rafe asked, breaking the silence. “Ten.”Kelce replied, closing his eyes as he leaned against the couch. “Im going upstairs to take a nap then.”Topper yawned, slowly making his way down the hall into the first floor guest room. 

It was arguably the worst since it also worked as your moms office, a queen bed pushed into the corner. You wiggled out of Rafe’s grip, smiling when he whined. You went into the kitchen, grabbing a poptart. For the situation you felt rather calm, opening the silver package and taking a bite of one of the sweet pastries. 

The energy in the house felt different than it had yesterday. You werent sure why, maybe it was just the comfort of knowing that the boys were going to be living with you now and you wouldnt have to worry as much about Rafe or Topper’s relationship with his mom. 

“So how are we gonna handle this?”Kelce asked, confusing you. “The house, I mean. You have this whole house and like...30 million dollars. We can literally redecorate however we want, maybe even clean out your moms office if youre okay with it.”He suggested. 

You nodded, the idea of getting the memory of your mother cleansed from your life sounded appealing. His excitement took over as he opened his amazon prime app, looking for new decor. “How do you feel about your moms room?”He asked, not wanting to push your limits. You shrugged, swallowing part of the pastry. “Shes not using it.”You replied, surprised by how morbid you sounded. 

He simply nodded, shifting in his seat as he added things to his cart. “Can we redo your room? It’s been the same color since we were fourteen.”Rafe suggested. You shrugged, not really caring. You didnt spend a large amount of time in your bedroom anyways. You scrolled through your phone for a few minutes, seeing a little red bubble next to your messaging app that let you know that you had gotten a text. Curious, you opened it. 

As soon as you saw who it was a pit grew in your stomach, eyes widening. It was her. “Sweet words, (Y/N).”The text read. You knew that it was your uncle just trying to mess with you but it still caused your anxiety to skyrocket, deciding to block the number and place your phone between your thighs, taking in a deep breath through your nose. 

Topper dragged his feet, coming out of the room with a frown. “That’s the most uncomfortable bed in all of history.”He muttered, sitting down on the couch instead. “You can go upstairs.’You reminded him, feeling your phone buzz against your inner thigh. 

He just hummed, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “How long was I in there?”He asked. “Literally not even ten minutes.”Kelce replied, still scrolling. “Did I miss anything?”Topper asked. You didnt reply, breaking off another piece of the poptart. “We’re gonna redecorate the house.”Kelce answered. Topper nodded, lifting his head.

 “Does that mean that office too?”Topper asked. You nodded, staring at a spot on your carpet. “Does that mean we get to open the file cabinet in the guest room?”He asked, all of you looking over at him. The thought made you feel nauseous. Even if she wasnt here to yell at you you knew that opening the file cabinet would still scare you anyways. 

“If theres a dead body in there I swear to god-”You muttered, earning a chuckle from Rafe. “A body couldnt fit in there.”he replied, making your eyebrows furrow. “How do you know where bodies can fit?”You asked. “No, no. Like, its not….well...maybe a raccoon body.”He admitted. “Rafe!”You exclaimed, smacking his thigh. 

He rolled his eyes, pulling you into his lap. “There’s no raccoon body.”He answered. “I think theres a raccoon body.”Kelce replied. “Theres not.”You answered. Topper grinned, skipping into the room and beginning to open the cabinet, the three of you following him. “Okay, who votes raccoon body?”He asked, his hand on the knob. 

Kelce raised his hand, grabbing your arm to make you hold your hand up as well. “Ready?”Topper asked before pulling the door open, looking into it. His face fell immediately, not expecting this. “What?”You asked, stepping past Kelce and looking into the cabinet.Guns were being held by small metal pieces, multiple clear bags full of plants and needles on the floor, bullets on sashes hanging with the guns.

 The two of you just stared, ignoring Rafe and Kelce until they came up behind you, equally as confused. “What the fuck?”Rafe asked, seeing the bags. Kelce slammed the doors shut, locking it. “We’re not telling anyone about this, right?”He asked, looking at all of you. “What are we gonna do with all that? We cant just keep it here!”Topper argued. 

Rafe shrugged, resting his elbow on your shoulder. “We smoke the weed and throw the guns in the river, obviously.”Rafe answered. “We’re not smoking weed, Rafe.”You answered. “Well your mom didnt have a liscense to carry, right?”Kelce asked. You shook your head, figuring it would be hung up somewhere in the house to remind you of the power she had.

 “Right, okay. So we cant call the cops and we cant keep it here.”Kelce answered, clicking the lock on the cabinet. “What’d your mom even do for a living?”Topper asked. You frowned, thinking back. You never really knew what your mother did, you just stayed quiet and hoped you wouldnt make her angry. She’d disappear for months, money would appear in your bank account, she’d pay the bills aned thats all you needed to know. 

She’d have long phone calls with people in her office, grounding you if you even dared to listen. “I dont know.”You replied, cringing at how stupid you sounded. “She has these cabinets all over the house, doesnt she?”Kelce asked. “The one in her room is actual files.”You told him, hoping that there were no sorts of hidden things in her room.

 “Should we go check?” Rafe asked, out of the room with a grin before any of you could even answer. You sighed, slightly annoyed that he was treating this like a scavenger hunt. “Its been here this whole time, im sure nothings gonna happen.”Kelce assured you, patting you on the shoulder before his fingers tickled your arm and wrist, gripping your hand and bringing you upstairs. 

“I ordered some tapestries, succulents, fake vines and some new blankets for our new movie room.”He told you, nearly slipping up. “Movie room?”You asked, nearly slipping on the stairs. “Your mom has a big tv, I figured it could be like a second living room if you’re comfortable with that.”He answered, pausing at the top of the stairs so he could wait for you. 

Rafe was in your mother’s room, carefully pulling on the drawers, eventually finding out that the top one was locked. He looked over at you, silently asking if you knew where the key was. You shook your head, letting go of Kelce’s hand and opening the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. 

Your mother kept most of your medical documents and anything like that to herself along with basically everything that proved you existed. Baby photos, ultra sounds, old school tests. “We could just move it into the other guest room.”Rafe muttered, hoping he wasnt making you upset. You ignored him, looking through all the little colored tags, your eyes falling on a silver tag, your eyebrows furrowing. No other ones had that color. 

You picked it up, sitting down and reading it over. The words were all bundled together, ink scratches and smudges told you that it wasnt a serious document. The only word you could make out was ‘arsonist’. Nothing else was eligible. “Can we take it right now?”You asked, placing the paper on the floor and closing the drawer. Rafe nodded, Kelce grabbing one side while Rafe grabbed the other. Topper grinned, leaning against your mothers unused desk.

 “I would help but my arms broken.”he laughed, watching as Kelce struggled, walking backwards. “Some moral support would be great.”Kelce rolled his eyes. You grinned, slowly clapping. “Great job, guys. You’re doing great moving that illegal file cabinet.”You held back a laugh. They turned carefully, shuffling as they eventually got to the guest bedroom.

 “How do you feel about this?”Topper asked, sitting down on the chair. You sighed, shrugging. “I mean, you know. Its not that I dont love the idea of you guys being here but like… its the circumstances.”You answered, sighing when he pulled you closer with his good arm, rubbing your back. “Thanks a lot for this, though. Like in all seriousness im really grateful that you’re in my life.”He blushed, looking up at you. You smiled, kissing his nose lightly.

 “I mean, I do provide you with half of the drama in your life.”You giggled, kissing him gently. “Where does the other half come from?”He asked. You shrugged, sighing. “Probably you.”You answered. “I cant believe you’d say that to me! You know im at a bad place in life and you put me in this terrible situation when you know that!”He fake cried, bursting into laughter. 

“Kourtney dont laugh at me!”You exclaimed. You felt a vibration under your feet, hearing a loud, dramatic sigh and the sound of skin colliding. They had successfully moved the file cabinet, the door closing as their loud footsteps hit the floor as they entered your mother’s room again. Rafe took a moment to look around, sometimes forgetting that the room even existed. 

It was the biggest room in the house, the ceiling going up at least twenty feet with only glass separating the room from the outside world. His mind wandered, thinking of all the fun nights the two of you could have in here watching the stars or listening to the rain.

 The bed was large and still, the blankets and sheets unwrinkled and untouched. He understood why you were creeped out by the house now, feeling like he didnt belong in the room. You all took turns trying to figure out what the writing said, eventually deciding that it probably wasnt even in english. “Should we put it through google translate?”Rafe asked, staring at the paper. 

Kelce shook his head. “Nah, its not reliable. I tried using it for spanish class in freshman year and I got detention.”He replied. “Well thats definitely not spanish. Maybe its like…. Ancient text.”Topper suggested, causing you to frown. “I highly doubt that my mother would know an ancient text. 

Maybe we should just leave it.”You answered. Although you werent exactly satisfied with it you just didnt feel like spending your time trying to decode a random paper. They didnt seem satisfied either but didnt want to push you, putting the paper down on the desk where it would be safe from your footsteps. 

Of course the boys just couldnt stay at the same place for long periods of time, deciding to suggest that you guys go out to a store to get some paint for the boring walls. You agreed, the four of you getting into your car instead of Rafe’s truck, locking all the doors and windows before you left. 

Kelce didnt suggest a McDonalds run which caused you to frown, knowing that he was probably too stressed to want to eat. You guys went into Walmart with one goal, heading right for the paint section and looking at the wall of colors. “Lets get four colors and kind of just make it up as we go.”Kelce muttered, looking at all the different shades.

 “We could all pick one out.”Topper suggested, reaching forward and picking a bright green. You agreed, picking a shade of light purple, watching as Kelce picked the color toffee biscuits and Rafe went for cotton blue. You doubted any of the colors would actually look good together but that wasnt the point of the project. 

It was more about making the room look fun rather than nice. Kelce grabbed a few large paint brushes, the four of you leaving before you could get distracted by anything that you didnt need. Topper decided to get right to work, spilling some paint on the floor as he dragged the brush along the wall, creating bright stripes.

 “I have an artistic vision! Trust the process!”He exclaimed, feeling your judgemental eyes on him. You didnt say anything, watching Kelce struggle to connect his phone to your speaker, playing the first song on his playlist. 

Line without a hook. Topper looked over at you, almost like he was silently asking you if you had told the boys about his top secret playlist. You shrugged, not wanting to give anything away to the others.

 “Oh my god, I love this song.”Rafe dunked his brush in the light blue, making a smiley face on the wall. “Can I paint an onion?”He asked. You raised your eyebrows, not understanding why he wanted to put an onion on the wall. 

“Ogres are like onions! We have layers!”Kelce laughed. “Who is we? Are you an ogre, Kelce?”Topper asked, not taking his eyes off of the bright stripes, painting a circle on the top. “Topper Harry Katherine Thornton, are you painting a penis on my wall?”You asked, connecting the dots. 

He grinned, ignoring you. “Of course not.”He replied, painting frantically so that you couldnt stop him, green drops rolling down the wall. You picked up your paint brush, painting two circles quicklly before pushing the brush into the center of each, laughing to yourself.

 “Guys, really?”Rafe asked. “Cant we make the wall wholesome?”He asked. You shook your head, a smile on your face. “Says you of all people, Rafe.”You shook your head. “She got you there.”Topper replied, dragging the brush across the painting and blending it out so there was no longer a penis on your wall. 

“What are you doing now?”You asked, wanting to one up him. “What are you doing now?” He mocked you. Somehow you ended up splashing Topper with paint and getting tackled into the mattress as he held the paintbrush over you, trying to get the bright green liquid on your face while you held his arm back. 

“Im gonna murder you!”You laughed, rolling over under him so your face was against the mattress. “Im gonna paint your hair!”He laughed, holding the brush just above it. “Topper, dont mess with her hair.”Kelce took the brush away. 

Topper groaned, falling next to you on the mattress. His eyes were closed, the sun from the window casting a beautiful glow over his face, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth. You pressed a kiss to his cheekbone, your arm resting on his torso. 

It didnt take long for painting to be forgotten, a few cheap bristles sticking to the wall with messes of colorful lines and unfilled shapes. The song changed, followed by a loud gasp from Rafe. “This is my favorite song!”He smiled, hitting his knees with his fists repeatedly. 

He didnt know what about it made him so happy, whenever he heard it it reminded him of you guys. “You know what we should do?”Topper asked. “No.”Kelce replied while Rafe rewinded the song to listen to his favorite part again. 

“We should make soup. Like, spicy soup with potatoes.”He replied, mouth watering. “We could just order soup.”Kelce replied, not in the mood to go downstairs and hunt for ingredients. “Order soup from where?”Topper asked. Kelce simply shrugged, shifting around and putting his arms under his body.

That had been a week ago. Since then a lot had happened. You guys had developed a system, Kelce could do his laundry on Saturdays, Rafe on Mondays and Topper’s just got mixed in with yours.

 It was a love and hate relationship to have them there with you. You didnt regret your decision but sometimes things would get difficult. Grocery shopping was the worst since nobody could decide what they wanted and you had all agreed not to eat out as much. 

“We need an actual meal, we cant just eat chips for everything.”Topper would grumble, realising he didnt even really know how to cook. That just lead to late flights of searching for recipes o pinterest and watching Gordon Ramsey tiktoks until they decided to try and make bake and shake chicken. That didnt really work out well, having to open all of your windows and get the smoke out of your house. 

Then you guys decided to take a new approach, finding a ton of frozen pizzas and ingredients for sushi. Kelce was the only one who had any idea of what he was doing since he had always been talented in the kitchen, specifically with breakfast. That became more of a safe meal for you guys, making extra food in the morning to eat later for dinner until you got sick of toast, eggs and bacon. 

Kelce ended up banishing you all to the pool so that he could decorate properly, vines hanging from the door ways and landscape tapestries hanging in your living room, hallway and your mother’s old bedroom. “How long do you think he’s gonna be?”You asked, floating on your back in the shallow end, letting out a yelp when Topper grabbed you and dragged you to the deep end. 

“I dont know, probably like three days.”He replied, finally letting go once you were in the middle of the pool. “We could survive three days in the pool.”You replied, watching Rafe shake his head. “With my allergy to the sun?”He asked, making you turn over, going underwater for a moment. “You dont even sunburn.”You told him, splashing water in his direction before swimming away quickly so that he couldnt get back at you.

 Kelce kept getting calls from his parents that were asking him to come home but he never did. They knew where he was, if they wanted him back so badly they’d drive over and take him away. “Guys, i’ve finished my creation.”Kelce announced, coming outside. “So we can come in now?”Topper asked, gripping the ledge of the pool and pulling himself out, falling onto his stomach as he struggled to get up.

 “Yes, you can come in now! Hurry!”Kelce yelled excitedly before going back inside, waiting impatiently for you guys to hurry. Rafe helped you out of the pool, tossing you your towel so that you wouldnt trail water through your house. “Guys! Come on!”Kelce shouted again, the three of you walking across the hot pavement quickly.

 “I’ll clean up the water after- just come see what I did!”He said again. You rolled your eyes, walking into the house. Goosebumps formed on y0our skin from the cool air, eyes widening as you looked at the kitchen. He had bought a plaid tablecloth for the table, vines hanging from the ceiling and doorways, a tie dye tapestry hanging in your living room. It looked like he had taken the time to wipe down every surface and vacuum any mess of broken spaghetti or eggshells that had been kicked under the fridge.

 “Do you like it?”He asked, unable to read your shocked expression. “Kelce, im gonna be honest with you. I feel like im in pixie hollow right now.”You grinned, making him smile. “I think thats a good thing- but upstairs is better!’He exclaimed before making his way up the stairs. He was right. 

There were marble heart shaped tiles hanging on the walls of the hall, a sign on the new hangout spot that was made out of drift wood. He opened the door, revealing bean bag chairs on the floor, a new carpet, a light yellow canopy hanging over the bed that had all new sheets and blankets on it as well. 

He had even somehow managed to fix the paint on the wall so that there were different colored polka dots all over it. The boys seemed equally impressed, still taking it in. You hugged Kelce, not even caring that you’d get his clothes wet. “So I did good?” He asked, hugging you back. “You always do good.”You replied, feeling him hug you tighter.

 ���So you’re happy?”He asked, letting out a small sigh when you nodded. “I am happy, Kelce.”you replied, kissing him lightly. He smiled against you, taking in a deep breath. “I found a new recipe for fancy grilled cheese.”He told you, kissing your forehead. This was something that you loved about having them live with you.

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