#so hey put pieces together by the time i made it to them

[iguessitsjustme]

Just remembered the time another queer person clocked me as a queer person at an art fair and kicking myself because I lost their business card and I wanted to buy some of their art which was really fucking cool and very on brand for me

[reidrum]

you say ‘what a mind’ | s.r.

A/N: she’s back and with fluff! (?) exams were really putting me through the ringer but i missed posting so i fixed up this draft i had, i hope you enjoy :D ive been listening to sabrina 25/8 since she dropped so hopefully song inspired fics coming soon 🤞🏽

summary: you get really excited about something new you learned and spencer gets really excited about you

wc: a short n sweet 1k

cw: none, tooth rotting fluff

_______________________________________________

With Spencer's extensive knowledge of just about everything, you had assumed that there wasn’t much you contribute to his abundant learning.

You maybe weren’t three-PhD’s smart, but you were smart, averagely speaking. But you knew Spencer was smart, and truth be told it intimidated you. He never made you feel bad about not knowing something, ever. Anytime he gets to talk to you about anything his face lights up like the night sky.

There was, however, one time you had come home all excited to explain a concept from class that finally clicked for you. And the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.

He watched you bound up to him with a spring in your step, bright eyed and wide cheeks as you told him, “I have to tell you about what I learned about today, it finally made sense to me. Like it felt like a real life light bulb final puzzle piece fitting type moment!”

He smiled warmly down at your eager face, “Alright angel, lay it on me.”

“Okay, I know it’s a little stupid it’s taken me this long to get it, but it’s—“

The call of your name sternly yet fondly falling from Spencer’s lips interrupts your self deprecating preamble, “Hey, we don’t do that, remember? We talked about this.”

Your rants almost always started with some self deprecating remarks, and he would always frown and try to interject and shut them down, to which you’d wave him off under the guise of, “If I stop, I’ll forget!” You were smart, but stubborn to a fault. He loved you for it, but it was hard for him to see you not understand the value you held, the value that your voice and your words and your opinions held. The value that he knew with all certainty you possessed.

A sheepish blush rises on your cheeks as you mumble, “Sorry.”

His fingers trickle closer to yours and wrap around them firmly, bringing you to sit on the couch next to him as he pulls your legs over to rest on his.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he says saccharinely, “We’re working on being nicer to ourselves right?”

You nod, he smiles softly back at you and continues, “Okay, tell me what you learned today.”

You start on your long explanation of the inner workings of the nervous system and its intricacies, explaining details and anecdotes that really showcase the inner workings of how your mind processes information.

Spencer can’t help but stare at you in deep fascination, complete with an awestruck smile and glimmering eyes.

He’s met hundreds of scientists, specialists, celebrities even, and listen to them talk about their research in extensive detail and with expansive knowledge. Hell, he’s had to do it himself with his three doctorates.

But as he sits in front of you, watching the person he’s most fond of on this planet watch you talk with so much speed, conviction, passion, with your hands move with purpose and excitement, he truly swears he has never been more in love with you than that moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask cautiously.

“You,” he moves closer, “Are so intelligent, did you know that?”

“Spencer, I’m not in the mood for jokes plea—“

“No, my love. You are brilliant,” he moves closer to be an inch away from you, placing his hands on your cheeks, “The way you process information is fascinating. When I watch you explain things to me I can see you organize it in your pretty head. It is actually mesmerizing watching you absorb knowledge the way you do. You’re like, a beautiful puzzle all undone, but by the forces of nature you’re able to put yourself together and bear the finished product to me, to anyone.”

Your eyes tear up, “Spence…what the fuck.”

He chuckles softly, “I mean it,” he holds you firmly, planting you in the roots of his belief, “What a mind you have, darling.”

It’s enough to make you tuck your head into his chest, obstructing his view from your imminent tearfall.

“You can’t just say things like that.” you mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt.

Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around your torso, letting the other hand take purchase in your hair, gently stroking it down, “Why not?” He speaks softly.

“Because…I might think you're like, in love with me or something.” You joke.

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into your rested head, “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s going to be another whole moon cycle before I have another a-ha moment like this again. I’ll have nothing to impress you with.”

Spencer smiles and sighs, squeezing you tighter against him, “You always impress me.”

You groan, “Ugh, you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“You do know that you’re really smart, right?” you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off, “You always underestimate yourself, but you’re really one of the smartest people I know. And I know a lot of smart people.”

A deep sigh leaves you, but he continues, “And you don’t have to believe me. I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. You and your brain are remarkable, so when you come to me with your a-ha moments thinking I’ll be impressed with your spark of knowledge, just know that I am impressed with you, but it’s more because I get to see you realize just how capable you are yourself.”

The calming motion of his fingers through your hair tether you back to this world, your insides fluttering about like butterflies in an open field. It was hard not to believe his words when Spencer was always so kind to you. It was always so easy for you to play it off like you didn’t deserve it.

But Spencer knew wholeheartedly that you did deserve it, that you were even entitled to it. And he’d spend the rest of his life reminding you. That, you knew for a fact.

“I love you,” you say softly, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me angel, I love you too.” He mumbles in your head, his hand trailing down your sides in comfort.

[hedgehog-moss]

I've said goodbye to half of my greenhouse goldfish! And the other half will follow later. I started out with goldfish when my aquaponics system was new as they are quite resilient to variations in pH, etc, but I decided it was time to move on to edible fish (carp.) I feel like carp have a bad reputation (as food) but my mum used to fish & cook them when I was little and I liked them—I'll have to ask her to teach me how she prepared them...

To thank my goldfish for their good work fertilising my greenhouse plants, I wanted to find a nice place for them to retire. Here's their new home :)

One of my distant neighbours has this artificial pond where he used to have goldfish but their population got decimated by a gluttonous otter. I hope *my* fish will be smart and agile enough to escape her, and if not, well... the otter's family has to eat...

The process of finding a new home for my fish went as follows: 1. Find an old lady, for example Mrs L. at the library, who likes to talk about people's lives and minor problems 2. Tell her in passing that I have goldfish I'd like to donate 3. Wait a few days, then go buy groceries.

The cashier told me "Oh hey, Mrs L. told me to tell you she knows someone who knows someone who wants your fish. She gave me a piece of paper with his phone number"

4. Success.

I called this person, and it turned out to be the farmer I often buy hay from, who told me all about his problematic otter and said he'd like to repopulate his pond. I offered to bring him my fish, and then proceeded to procrastinate for several weeks. I realised this week that I was going to see this neighbour again soon (when he comes to deliver my hay) and it would be embarrassing if I still hadn't made good on my promise to deliver fish, so I finally set to work catching 15 goldfish.

It took so long. I think the reason I procrastinated is because my subconscious knew catching them would be a pain. They are so quick and nimble! And unlike otters I am not designed for this. There was one barracuda of a goldfish that I particularly wanted to catch, but she was too smart for me. She feinted and hid behind the filter and sacrificed fellow goldfish by pushing them into my net instead of her, it was very dramatic and eventually I had to give up on catching her.

(I even tried to use a large piece of chicken netting on top of my fish net, but of course it was very light and floated at the surface. I considered tying little rocks to it so it'd sink, and then realised I had single-handedly (re)invented bottom trawling. But I don't want to be a bottom trawler, it sounds like an insult. I'll have to try and catch my monster goldfish some other time when she least expects it.)

On my way to my neighbour's farm, I ran into a cow roadblock. Normally I would have pushed the cows aside, removed the rope across the road then put it back behind me after crossing the cowblock—but the cow in charge looked grouchy to me.

I made a détour.

Then, because the universe really didn't want me to deliver my goldfish, I ran into a goose patrol when I reached my neighbour's farm. I now know how Odysseus felt when Poseidon kept throwing sea monsters and other obstacles at him to prevent him from reaching his destination.

I dispatched Pandolf to parley with them and he looked very unenthused by his mission.

Fortunately, the geese were in a good mood and politely escorted us to the pond.

Goodbye, friends! Remember, there's a snake in this Eden. An adorable, web-footed, fish-eating snake.

Most of the fish dispersed quickly, but I thought it was so cute how these two leisurely swam away together...

And so I went and bought new fish for my greenhouse tanks. I'm going to miss the goldfish! They're cheerful to look at and I liked sitting by the tank and watching them go about their day. My new fish are better camouflaged and will be harder to observe. But it was fun watching their first introduction to goldfish society :)

[bohemianblasphemy]

MGG prompt. 🥺 Reid’s favorite holiday is Halloween and he’s disappointed when his plans fall through for the evening so you invite him to hand out candy at your house, and once he arrives he’s very into your Halloween costume, and you end up not passing out any candy. 😉😉

I love me some Spencer Reid 🥺✨ spooky smut coming your way!!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Contains: Unprotected sex, Spencer fucking you in your costume, Reader receiving oral, fishnet ripping… fun stuff!

“What do you mean you’re not doing Halloween this year?” You were shocked, leaning over Spencer’s desk as he was sitting in his chair.

“My plans fell through… so it’s just sit in my apartment and watch some horror movies that night.” Spencer shrugged, but you could see the disappointment behind his expression. He LOVED Halloween- come October and it was the only thing he’d talk about. You hated seeing him sad, especially during his favourite time of the year.

“Hey, I have an idea.” You said, the cogs in your head turning.

“Come over to mine… we can dress up and hand out candy, watch some scary movies. I don’t want you to be alone…” you said softly, hoping that he would take you up on your offer.

Spencer’s eyes had a spark of excitement from your offer- not only because of Halloween but also because he could spend time with you.

“Y-yeah! I’d like that a lot…” he gave you that goofy smile he always gave when he was excited, making your heart flutter at the sight.

“Great! I’ll um… text you the address, you gotta wear a costume though… or you’re not being let in.” You teased, making him fidget in his seat.

“Oh I will be, don’t you worry.”

- - -

The few days to Halloween rolled by as Spencer and yourself had finalised your plans for that night.

You stood at your bathroom mirror, applying the final touches to your makeup - the pink and blue eyeshadow blended to perfection, bringing your elvira costume together with the tall wig and long black dress that showed off your curves perfectly.

The timing was impeccable as you heard the doorbell buzzing, your favourite boy genius had arrived on time. You eagerly made your way towards the door, opening it to see Spencer… in normal clothing.

“Spencer I told you to dress up!” You said to him, a bit of disappointment in your voice. “What do you mean? I am dressed up…” Spencer smoothed over his shirt.

“I’m an existentialist.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you couldn’t help but laugh. He was such a dork, but you couldn’t help but admire him for it.

“Besides, it looks like you’re the star of our Halloween night…” Spencer smiled softly, his eyes running over you as he admired your costume.

The soft blush on your cheeks was undeniable, smiling sweetly at him. “Thanks Spence… come in.” You pulled the door open wider, watching him walk inside and take in the surroundings of your home.

He saw the giant bowl of candy, meant for any trick or treaters who were to pass by the house but couldn’t help but take a piece for himself.

“Got a lot to choose from…” he smiled as he unwrapped the piece of candy, putting it in his mouth and chewing slowly.

Smiling at him, you nodded. “Whoever comes to the door is gonna have a hard time choosing…”

There was undoubtedly tension between you both, you had no problems speaking when you were at work together but now? The air was just full of unspoken feelings and longing…

“Uhm… i have some movies that we can watch, if you’re wanting to watch something…” you turned around, trying to break the silence that surrounded you both.

“I have Halloween, The Lost Boys, Scream, The Thing- take your pick.” You handed him the DVDS that you had in your hand, he takes them and momentarily grazes his fingers on yours, making the flush on your cheeks burn brighter as you watch him go through the selection of movies.

“The Lost Boys first?” He grinned, seeing the smile on your face.

“My favourite… yes let’s do it.”

The doorbell rang, hearing a muffled “trick or treat!” From behind the wood.

“I’ll get the door… you pop the movie in yeah?” You looked to him as you grabbed the candy bowl.

“Yeah of course.” He looked as you turned around, admiring the way that you looked in your costume as you answered the door to the trick or treaters.

In that time you took handing out candy and closed the door, Spencer had taken a seat on your couch ready to watch the movie, waiting for you to come sit beside him.

Upon your return, Spencer smiled up at you as you sat down. Ready to watch as he pressed play.

The movie plays, the title card with the aerial shot of the carnival in Santa Carla is in view and you focus on the screen- Spencer, trying to get avert his eyes to the screen was looking at you, he couldn’t get over how you looked in that outfit…

He felt bad for not watching the movie, but he enjoyed watching you. He could see the excitement in your eyes as the vampires on their bikes driving off through the sandy dunes and smiled softly at your reactions.

You could feel his eyes on you, knowing that he wasn’t paying attention- but you couldn’t help but love that he was watching you instead of the movie.

You turned to face him, A dash of confidence building up inside you.

“Spence?” You whispered, locking eye contact with him.

Spencer’s eyes went wide and he swallowed hard.

“I-I um…” he stuttered, not being able to look you in the eye. His nervousness settling in as he looked toward his lap.

Using your index finger you pulled his chin up, making him look at you.

“Do you like what you see Spence?” You whisper, your sweet tone sending a shiver down his spine.

Of course he did, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you in your costume.

“Yes…” he whispered, watching you move closer toward him. The gap between you both was agonisingly thin, his pupils blown with desire for you.

Leaning in further, you could feel his shallow, shaky breaths on your lips- feeling his needy desire for you buzzing off of him.

“Do you want this? Do you want me?” You said quietly, smiling at the hitch in his throat.

“Yes… god yes.” He whined, there was nothing in that moment that he wanted more than to have you… to take you.

Taking that opportunity, you moved forward and captured his lips with yours, tasting the lingering candy on his tongue.

Spencer couldn’t help the soft moan that came from within him as you kissed, his slender fingers coming up to your cheek but pausing within an inch of you.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, watching as you nodded. He pulled you into him, his other arm snaking around you and holding you closer as he kissed you once more.

Your hands reached his chest, slowly unbutton his shirt and splaying it open to reveal his torso.

“Pretty boy…” you praised him as you pulled away from his kiss; watching his chest rise and fall shakily at your touch as your fingers ghosted along his warm skin toward the button of his pants, a tent evidently filled the space in front of his zipper.

“W-wait-“ he panted, gently taking your wrist. Leaning forward he encapsulated your lips again. “I-I need to taste you, please.” Spencer’s voice was yearning.

“Hmm…” you replied, a smirk appearing on your lips. “I think that can be arranged.” Spencer watched as you stood up, extending your hand to him.

Taking your hand, he followed you down the hallway to your room. Closing the door behind you Spencer took your waist, walking you backwards to the edge of the bed and lay you down- splayed out for him as your split of your black dress bared your fishnet clad legs.

Spencer looked down at you, in awe of how beautiful he thought you looked in your outfit as he sat down on his knees by the edge of the bed.

His long fingers traced along your thighs, feeling the flimsy material of the tights. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, hands tracing further up your legs to your pelvis.

With a shaky breath, he traced lightly along the front of you- your body quivering for more.

“Can I?” He whispered, looking up at you for permission. After seeing you nod, he didn’t hesitate to dig his fingers in the tights, ripping them open to reveal what lay beneath them making you gasp.

“Spence those were my good ones…” you giggled softly. “I’ll buy you another- fuck I’ll buy you 10 pairs… they look so good.” He praised you, moving closer to where you wanted him most.

So beautiful.” Spencer was in awe as he played with the elastic of your underwear and pulling it to the side, admiring your glistening cunt.

Placing a few kisses to your thighs, he traces his lips up to your pussy- flattening his tongue against you before bringing the tip of it to your clit, swirling around the sensitive nub.

The taste of you was going to be the death of him, moaning at how good it felt- something he could never get enough of.

“Spence….” You breathed out, your hands reaching for his brown hair and pulling at them- eliciting a sudden moan from him as he continued his assault with his tongue.

Your noises filled the room, each going an octave higher as he you reached your peak, the grip on his hair getting tighter as you came hard on his lips and tongue.

Spencer looked up at you, his lips wet with your desire and his eyes filled with want.

Your eyes followed him as he stood up. Starting to fiddle with the button of his pants and letting them fall to the ground at his feet, leaving him in his briefs.

All you could do was stare- your eyes raking over his form, seeing the tent that had formed under his briefs.

He watched your eyes and smirked slightly as he toyed with the elastic, hooking his thumbs under the material and pulling them down setting himself free.

Him standing bare before you was a sight for sore eyes. “God Spencer…” you whispered, admiring him as you went to take off your costume- but he objected.

“Leave it on… please.” He pleaded. “I wanna take you like this…” he said shyly as he took a step over to you and crawled on top the sheets, hovering over you.

He looked over you, seeing you eye him from below in awe- the yearning to feel you overwhelming as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with his tip.

“C-can I?” He whispered, his face coming down a few inches from you as you nodded enthusiastically. “Yes Spencer, please…”

Slowly and steadily, he started to move himself inside you- a gasp falling from his lips he moved his hips, listening and watching as your mouth fell open; the most heavenly sound that has ever hit his ears falling from your lips- calling his name and your fingers digging into his shoulders.

His thrusts became faster, more desperate. The eagerness to please you, to feel you- to make you cum the only goal on his mind.

“I-is this good? Please tell me it feels good-“ he was panting, desperate to hear you praise him. “Sp-Spence you feel so good- so good f’me…” you couldn’t help the shuddering words that came out, ecstasy building up in your core.

A small whimper rolled out of Spencer at your praise, whining as he continued rolling his hips into yours. The pressure of his orgasm was building up inside him quickly.

“I-I’m not gonna last.” He whispered, another whine following his words.

“Let go Spencer, please…”

Spencer’s thrusts became more erratic as he watched you fall over the edge- calling out his name as you came hard around him, clenching yourself around his cock.

His breathing became jagged as he felt himself twitch inside you, his orgasm hitting him like a tidal wave as his cum coated your walls.

“God you’re- you’re so beautiful, so perfect…” he watched as you glanced up at him with half lidded eyes and parted lips that had messy red lipstick all over them, basking in the after glow. His hair stuck to his temples, making you giggle as you unstuck it from his head. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted that, wanted you…” you smiled, touching his cheek gently as though he was made of glass.

Spencer leaned into your touch, his pupils blown with admiration. “Me too…”

There was a silence between you both, before he piped up once more.

“Definitely the best Halloween I’ve had.” He smiled at his own sentence, making you giggle as he lay down beside you- giving soft touches as he held you close- content with being there in that moment with you.

[loulovingho]

“Tommy!” Eddie cheered, lifting his drink toward the sky as he spotted his friend walking toward him. “Whatcha doin' here, Man?”

“Figured I'd stop by and see how you were doing, Bud,” Tommy replied. He gave Eddie a pat on the back as he sat down in the empty seat next to him. “You come here alone?”

“Mhm. Needed ta get out. House's too quiet.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Too long,” the bartender interrupted as he walked by. “Was about to cut him off. I already took his keys.”

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed, looking around the bar counter. “Hey! You took my keys.”

“I got him,” Tommy said, giving the bartender a nod. “I gotta say, at least you're talking better than you're texting. I was worried.”

Eddie's face scrunched up in confusion. “Huh? I never did texted you.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.” Tommy fished his phone out of his jacket pocket and went to his messages. “'Buuuuuuuck, lezz drink, Buddy.' Then five minutes later, 'Bruck, why rn't you at bar? I waiting.' A good two minutes after that you sent me your location with an angry emoji. Then, and this is my personal favorite, 'Loser too busy kissy kissy with Tummy to be a friendship.'”

"Huh. Thought I was textin' Buck.”

“Yeah, I pieced that together.”

“So where's Buck if you're not kissy kissy?” Eddie asked, his final drink sloshing over his fingers as he attempted to bring it to his lips.

Tommy took the drink from Eddie and set it back on the counter. “Evan is watching Jee overnight so Howie and Maddie can have a night away. So, you wanna talk about whatever's bothering you? I mean, I could take a guess, but...”

“Nah. No, no, nope. I wanna,” Eddie pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Lessgo karaoke, Tomboy-”

“We're not calling me that.”

“I wanna sing to the rooftops,” Eddie continued, his words slurring more and more with each sentence. “I wanna. I wanna be, you know, be free, Tommy. I don't have a rea-,” he hiccuped, “reason to get back home.”

“Really? Seems like that's exactly where you need to be right now.”

Eddie's eyes widened, like he'd thought of the best idea in the entire world. “Let's go to Peeping Tom! That's your name!”

“Peeping Tom is a gay bar, Eddie.”

“I don judge.”

“A very kinky, fully nude gay bar,” Tommy clarified.

Eddie squinted, deep in thought. “No karaoke?”

“No karaoke.”

“Well, then were we go? Don't say home!”

“Home.”

“Ugh,” Eddie groaned, allowing Tommy to wrap an arm around his back and help him up. “You're like a no- no fun dad. Wish I'd texted fun dad.”

Tommy gripped onto Eddie tighter as he stumbled while taking a step. He sighed. “Maybe next time.”

*****

When Eddie woke up the next morning it was to a pounding headache and blinding sunlight coming through his window. He was nauseous and his mouth tasted like a mixture of gasoline and mouthwash.

He laid there for a few minutes, trying to figure out what happened that made him feel so unbelievably ill.

After a few failed attempts, he finally rolled out of bed and made his way into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee.

He froze when he walked through the door to see Tommy sitting there, reading the newspaper.

“Good... morning?” Eddie started, confused.

Tommy set the paper down. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“I- I think so, I guess. It's a little blurry.”

Tommy hummed. “Not surprising. Coffee just finished, if you want some. Your couch is not comfortable, by the way.”

“Buck's never complained.”

“Yeah, well, he's easier to please than I am.”

Eddie was too hungover for this. He had so many questions, but for some reason the first one out of his mouth was: “Where'd you put my shoes?”

“In your closet.”

He grabbed himself a cup for some coffee. “My keys?”

“We have to go pick them up at the bar today, along with your car, obviously.”

“You didn't close my curtains last night. Woke up thinking I was being interrogated by Ice T.”

Tommy sighed, leaning back in his seat. “'Thank you so much for getting me home safely, Tommy. Did it hurt your back having to drag me into the house while I belted out Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of my lungs?'” He stood, walking over to Eddie and taking the coffee out of his hand, drinking a big sip. “Thank you for asking, Eddie. I think my back will be okay, but my ears will never recover.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, turning to fix himself another cup. “Thank you for getting me home safely, Tommy. I appreciate it.”

“Mhm. No problem.” Tommy returned to his seat and Eddie joined him at the table. They sat in silence for a couple minutes, taking small sips of their drinks.

Eventually, Tommy set his cup down a little harder than normal, getting Eddie's attention with the clinking sound. “Wanna talk about it?”

“About what? How your coffee tastes like cigarette sludge?”

“I'll take that as a no then.” Tommy checked his watch. “The bar doesn't open until three. Want me to stop by and pick you up then?”

Eddie shook his head. “I can just get an Uber, Man, thanks though.”

“Of course. I'll, uh, let you recover.” Tommy stood and went to leave, checking his pocket for his keys and phone.

As he neared the door, Eddie spoke. “Wait,” he said. Tommy turned back to face him.

“Yeah?”

“Why'd you sleep on my couch?”

“You're my friend,” he answered simply. “You drank a lot. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” He took a step back toward the table. “Are you okay?”

Eddie cradled the mug in his hands, watching the steam rise from the cup. “You don't... How long has it been? Since you talked to your dad?”

Okay, so Tommy wasn't leaving then.

He came to the table and sat down, taking a moment to think about Eddie's question. “About six years, I think.”

“What did he do?” He looked over at Tommy. “To make you stop talking to him, I mean. Unless you don't wanna get into it. In fact, forget it, I shouldn't-”

“Eddie, it's fine,” Tommy assured him. “I don't mind.”

“Okay,” Eddie nodded, sitting up straighter. “So? What happened?”

“It wasn't just one thing,” Tommy explained. “It was a lifetime of things. He's... He's not a good man. I think the catalyst was about a year after I came out. I hadn't been home in awhile, so I decided to drive to his place one weekend. When he answered the door he said, 'What the hell are you doing here?' I told him I was coming to see him and he said, 'What's the damn point in that?' I thought about it for a second and realized that was a good question, so I turned around, got in my car, and left. Never looked back.” Eddie seemed to be contemplating his words, and Tommy could tell where this was going. “It's not the same thing, Eddie,” he said, beating Eddie to it.

“What if he doesn't come back? What I did, Tommy, it wasn't... It was bad.”

“You made a mistake.”

“I cheated on my girlfriend with a doppelganger of his mom, Tommy, and he caught me.”

“Granted, it was a big mistake,” Tommy deadpanned. “But, still a mistake. He'll come around. You gotta give him time.”

“People keep telling me that,” Eddie replied with an eye roll. “That he'll come around. But it's been months of nothing. And it seems like no matter what I do, it's not enough.”

“You're trying.”

Eddie huffed. “I'm not sure getting drunk alone at a bar is trying.”

“I think it shows you care, Eddie. And, yeah, that shouldn't become a habit, but you're allowed to be upset. You're allowed to hurt. You made a mistake, but you're a good dad and Christopher knows that. He will come around.”

“And if he doesn't?” Eddie asked, staring over at Tommy.

“Then you keep trying,” Tommy replied. “You never stop trying. Keep being there, keep sending him letters and getting him on Facetime. Go for a visit. Send him texts. I'm not saying you gotta smother him, but never let him forget that you're there. That's the biggest mistake you could ever make.”

“Yeah,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Yeah, you're right. I just... I gotta keep it up. Let him know I'm here, whenever he's ready.”

“Exactly.”

Eddie looked over at the clock on his stove, 11:32 staring back at him. He had no idea he'd slept so long. “Why don't you call Buck, see if he wants to come over and watch a game? Then you can drive me to my car.”

“Oh, you want me to call Evan? Don't you mean fun dad?” Tommy asked, eying Eddie.

It took him a minute, but the memory came back to him. “I did say that, didn't I?”

“You did,” Tommy confirmed. “Which I'm very offended by, by the way. I'm fun!”

Eddie sighed, his head drooping down. “I know you are.”

“I introduced you to karaoke trivia. I've flown you to Vegas.”

“I remember.”

“I never tried to seriously injure you in the name of love.”

“Which I'm very grateful for.”

“I don't have control issues when I have a clipboard in my hand.”

“Are you just gonna keep listing reasons why you're fun?”

“I once shoved three cupcakes in my mouth at once! Nearly choked to death, but Evan whacked me on the back and everything went down just fine.”

Eddie stood with his mug in hand, pointing toward the living room, “I'm gonna go to the couch. Get more comfortable.”

Tommy followed behind, pulling out his phone to call Buck. “I'll let Evan tell you who bowled a 230 last week. Hint: it was me!”

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬

→ premise: you were just so pretty and so much smaller than your boys how could they not love it? though they’ve seemed to take notice of just how much you love it

→ pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader x bucky barnes

→ warnings: smut | 18+, size kink [reader is described as smaller/weaker in the sense of them being super soliders and stronger more muscles etc.][im also not that good at writing size kink so just squint a bit], body worship, dumbification, nicknames [little one, dumb baby, baby], oral [f receiving], creampie [only 1 i was gonna have them both do it but]

→ a/n: 01 kinktober

It was very hard for your boys to keep their hands to themselves around you, they were both very possessive after all but they knew you loved it. They noticed the way your thighs clenched when they stood tall behind you, presence big and looming as their large hands both snake around each side of your waist. Their stares and presence are enough to make the guy talking to you back off. They hear the small lustful gasp that leaves your lips when one of them manhandles you picking you up to place you out of their way. They were more in tune and hyper aware of every motion and sound you made than you'd like sometimes. They could catch on to things you like before even you could. Such as that you really really enjoyed just how much bigger and stronger they were than you.

It had been a couple days of a long mission where the three of you simply didn't have the time or space for many intimate moments, that was until you finally got back home. You're in the middle of a conversation with Sam before suddenly you're swept off your feet by Steve.

With a short startled scream you're thrown over one of his broad shoulders. “Hey i was in the middle of a conversation, you know” you whine and ignore the ache that begins to settle in your core at the action. You smack Steve's muscular back in an attempt of telling him to let you go, with the one hand that was holding your waist still he lets go quickly to smack your ass. You squeal and shut your mouth fast as arousal replaces all confusion and frustration. Steve's other hand that's gripping the back of your thigh squeezes a bit harder around the plush skin. You watch Bucky not far behind you two as Steve carries you to our shared bedroom. A small but seductive and taunting grin plastered across the brunette's face. He watches with amusement as your eyes glaze over, practically seeing you begin to sink into sub space already.

“Wish you could see her face rn, shes turning into our dumb little baby already thinking of all the things we’ll do to her” Bucky's deep voice breaks you for your train of thought before you sink right back away and the rest is a blur until your sat on your large soft king size bed, ass nestled into steves lap and your facing bucky whos sat in front of you.

“We missed your body little one” Steve whispers, coming out desperate and soft, breath hot the back of your neck as Bucky tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and resting his big calloused hand on your face. “Your perfect little body is all we ever need baby” Bucks voice is a stark difference to the blondes as his comes out husky and deep. You gasp as bucky's cold metal fingers find their way under your shirt inching towards your bare chest.

You couldn't be bothered to put a bra on for the long and uncomfortable trip home and you've never been more grateful for one of your decisions til this moment. His thumb brushes across your already hardening nipple at the same time that Steve begins leaving sloppy kisses on the back of your neck making his way to that sweet spot behind your ear. Your breath hitches in your throat as you squeeze your thighs together but steves warm hand slides between them spreading them apart. You whimper softly at the strength.

“We wanna worship that pussy baby don't hide it little one” Steve mumbles against your neck as he starts to unbutton your pants with one hand and push them down with your panties.

The boys move fast to discard the rest of your clothes as well as their own and their lips are back all over your body, kissing, marking, licking every inch of skin that they can.

You're now propped up against the headboard, a pillow behind your back and one under your hips. Bucky has one leg pinned and Steve has the other so your legs are spread, throbbing cunt on full display for them. Their strength while forcing your legs open causes your arousal to leak down your pussy and ass soaking the pillow under you as you squirm a bit in impatience.

“Look at our pretty little dumb baby Buck so needy, you want our mouths baby?” Steve asks in a soft yet taunting voice that has your head going hazy again. You nod yes eagerly and whine as the blonde and brunette hovered their mouths over where you needed them most. A small chuckle leaves Bucky's lips before he is quick to slide two of his thick warm fingers through your slick, spreading it over your puffy folds. The small gasp leaving your parted lips turning into a louder one the second his fingers slip inside you and are fast to find that spot only your boys could. Steve, not far behind Bucky in action, leans closer and starts to slowly flick your clit with his tongue, teasing you by slowly licking shapes over your aching clit. Your thighs twitch and on instinct your legs attempt to shut from the overwhelming pleasure, the pressure building embarrassingly fast in the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna cum already little one? Keep these fucking legs open and cum on Bucks fingers, come on dumb baby” Steve groans against your pussy as he moves his attention back to your clit, sucking it sloppy and hard. Steve's hands grip your inner thighs hard and push your legs away from his head and Bucky pins one knee down to the bed with his free hand. “Cum on my fingers baby then you can get filled with our cocks you miss that dont ya’ little one” Bucky chuckled and watched as you squirm and whine when he starts slowly and teasing stroking his hard cock giving you the perfect view.

With a gasp and fingers threading through Steve's dirty blonde hair and pulling you cum hard on Bucky's fingers. You feel Steve smile against your clit as your chest rises and falls, catching your breath.

Bucky having other plans however the minute Steve pulls away from your clit is smacking his red leaking tip against your abused bud and slamming inside you. Your eyes glaze over and their voices fade as pleasure and overstimulation take over your body. A wanton moan fills the boy's ears causing them to smile as Bucky's thrusts are hard and fast. He's been pent up for days and your walls clenching around his thick cock is a heavenly feeling he desperately missed.

Your eyes fall shut but snapback open fast when Steve is gripping your cheeks squeezing them lightly, you whine, his rough hand making your face seem so small. “Eyes on us baby got it? Look at Buck as he fucks this gorgeous cunt yeah?” He questions and smacks your clit before you can answer, making you clench down harder on buck. “Yes! Mhm mhm!” You nod and hum in response, not being able to form enough words.

The brunette groaning loud and grabbing your hips hard to plow into you even harder. He was so big it was easy for him to manipulate you. “Fuck you’re already gonna make me come little one” his head falls back as he lets pleasure wash over him. He thrusts one last time filling you to the hilt as thick hot ropes of cum fill you up. Your mind goes blank again and before you can register their voices again, Steve's hands are grabbing onto your hips and lifting you into his lap.

“Shes already so fucked out aww well too bad baby i need to be inside you so fuckin’ bad missed it just as much as buck did” Steves voice is ringing in your ears but before you can form an answer he is lfting you up again to slide down onto his cock. “Ah! Fuck steve” you whine and yet still press your hips down to take him inside. “Look at you trying to complain baby you love it when we manhandle you, didn't think we noticed huh?” Bucky taunts and grabs a fist full of your hair to pull your head back so he can kiss you hungrily. You kiss back passionatly with a goofy smile on your face that fades into a lust filled one once steve starts to fuck up into you, hands still grabbing onto your now probaly bruised hips.

You moan against Bucky's lips, head hazy but happy thinking of how well they will take care of you after this. They may manhandle you and be much stronger than you but they could be big teddy bears when it came to aftercare.

→ a/n: this is only my second time writing stucky so i hope its as good as my first one that everyone loved but :) also this was meant to go up yesterday im not doing 31 days im doing 18 im posting a fic every saturday, sunday, tuesday, and thursday but i got busy yesterday and this wasnt proof read too well so im sorry and i rushed the ending to get it out td.

[roosterr]

hi! i was wondering if i could request your thoughts/drabble on how the 141 would react if a mission went awful and you were left in the hospital with amnesia! like the reader wakes up and has no memory of her team🥲

if you aren’t taking requests atm or this doesn’t fit with your writing, i completely understand and you can ignore this! just wanted to say i binged your masterlist and absolutely love all your writings! keep up the amazing content <3

the 141 when you have amnesia

note: AAA TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!! and ty for reading my stuff, it means a lot!! i had so much fun writing this it's unbelievable, this concept is just so JUICY,,, i really hope you like it!! <3

wc: 2.8k

warnings: established relationship, angst sadness and depression wow i did not mean for this to get so sad

ao3

[part two]

price

✹ he would undoubtedly blame himself for what happened to you. as your captain, it was his job to keep you safe and make sure you came home in one piece, and he'd failed you there.

✹ weeks and weeks go by as he waits endlessly for you to wake up, and with every day that ends with you still unconscious, he feels his resolve slipping just a little bit more.

✹ he holds himself together as well as he can, keeping his head high and projecting confidence that you'd be okay, if only to keep the team's spirit up. they still needed their captain, and he'd be damned if he failed them too.

✹ behind closed doors, however, he's a mess.

✹ john drinks, a lot, so much that it’s irresponsible, but the image of you, beaten and bloody and barely breathing haunts him every time he closes his eyes. he locks himself in his office, away from the others and ignores their concerned calls through the door.

✹ he visits you, only when it's late and there's no one else around to hear him whisper apologies to you with a lump in his throat. he confesses to you like a sinner, all the things he wishes he'd done differently, how he'd put himself in your place in a heartbeat if it meant you'd be okay.

✹ other than those nights, he does his best to stay away from the infirmary. it’s selfish, but he can’t bear to see you in such a fragile state.

✹ he’s in his office when you wake up.

✹ the nurse finds him on his second drink of the night, and no sooner than the news leaves her mouth he's pushing past her and rushing to the infirmary. he bursts through the door, startling you and the other nurse with you.

✹ "hey, sweetheart." he’s by your side in an instant, taking one of your hands in both of his as he gazes lovingly into your eyes. it feels like it's been an age since you've looked at him, the sight of your eyes alone almost has the dam behind his own breaking.

✹ you’re staring back at him with a somewhat lost expression, but john’s so relieved that you’re here, that you're back, it slips his notice.

✹ he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, like he's done hundreds of times before, but you stop him by placing your other hand on his chest. he pulls back with a concerned frown, finally noticing the unsure look you're wearing.

✹ the nurse briefly explains that some memory loss is common for the amount of head trauma you sustained. he should've expected something like this, in fact it's a miracle you made it out with just memory loss.

✹ "i'm sorry, can you tell me who you are?" you ask meekly, looking back at him with an apologetic look in your eye. you look guilty, like it's your fault this happened and not because of his own shortcomings.

✹ john's heart sinks at your words, but he's careful not to show it. amnesia can be temporary, he knows that, he just has to jog your memory.

✹ "i'm john," he smiles as warmly as he can through the panic in his chest, lifting his left hand to show you the wedding band on his finger, "your husband."

✹ your jaw falls open, your eyes wide as you look between the ring, his face, and the nurse behind him, who simply nods in confirmation of the captain's words.

✹ "you're…" you mutter, disbelief taking over your voice, "my husband?"

✹ you take his left hand in yours, bringing it closer to your face and examining the wedding band, a tiny smile pulling at one corner of your lips.

✹ "yes, love," his chest rumbles with a chuckle, grasping your left hand and showing you the matching band on your own finger, "we're married."

✹ "seriously?" you ask, comparing the rings on your fingers and looking back up to him with an almost comically surprised face. john nods again, his moustache tilted with an amused smile.

✹ "been together for nearly seven years."

✹ "how the hell did i convince you to marry me?" you mutter. at that, he lets out a real laugh, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

✹ "think i should be the one askin' that question."

gaz

✹ kyle takes it harder than anyone.

✹ he visited you once, at the first opportunity when you were stable enough to not require constant observation, but the sight ruins him. you looked so weak, nothing like how you should; your cheeks were sunken and your skin has a sickly sheen to it, and there was nothing he could do to help you.

✹ he couldn't stand it.

✹ he becomes so easily irritated, a hair trigger just waiting to snap. the others want to help him, but he won't let them get close enough to try. any mention of your name has him shutting down, leaving faster than they can finish their sentence.

✹ he barely sleeps, spending most nights curled up in your bed with his tears soaking your pillow. he surrounds himself with your clothes, things that smell like you, but your scent eventually fades and he just feels so alone without you.

✹ price finds him like that one night, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against your bed after throwing up from crying so hard. he hauls kyle up by the collar of his shirt, and forces him to meet his stern eyes through the tears.

✹ "pull yourself together, garrick! they need you to be strong for them, how d'you think they're gonna feel when they wake up and see you like this?"

✹ after that it's like the spell is broken, and he realises just how pathetic he's been acting. in the weeks you've been out, he's only visited you – his partner – once. you'd never forgive him if you knew.

✹ from that night onwards, he visits you at least once a day, filling multiple vases around your bed with beautiful flowers and making sure they never wilt.

✹ he got 'get well soon' cards for you too, having each of your teammates, and even kate, sign one to decorate your room.

✹ you wake up surrounded by life and colour, physical evidence of how much he loves you that puts a smile on your exhausted face, even if you don't know who left them.

✹ he's off base when you wake up, picking up a fresh bouquet for your room. his phone rings as he's leaving the florists, and as soon as he hears the nurse's voice he's sprinting back to his car, throwing the flowers onto the passenger seat and racing back to base.

✹ he bursts through the infirmary doors to see you standing with the help of the nurse, your legs wobbly but your face determined. he almost breaks down in the doorway.

✹ when you look up and meet his eyes, he feels his heart stutter in his chest. he rushes towards you, the new bouquet slipping from his fingers, and almost knocks you off your feet with the how hard he embraces you.

✹ you let out a small 'oomph' as he squeezes you, hesitantly wrapping your own arms around his torso. he sniffles into your shoulder, a few tears wetting your shirt despite his attempts to hold them back.

✹ "hey, uhm…" your voice reaches his ears, hoarse with disuse, "are you okay? what's your name?"

✹ "what?" kyle lifts his head, pulling back to mirror your confused gaze. "babe, what're you on about?"

✹ the nurse pulls him aside, leaving you sitting on the edge of your bed as she explains your amnesia to him.

✹ you really didn't remember him. his heart withers in his chest, the pain of losing you all over again spreading to the ends of every limb.

✹ "no, no no no–" he mumbles, stumbling back over to where you sit and cupping your worried face so gently, like you'd break if he was too rough. "please, love, you have to remember"

✹ you cover his hands with your own, a few tears falling from your eyes and rolling hot against kyle's palms. "i'm sorry, i want to remember, but…"

✹ "please, i love you…"

soap

✹ johnny spends every free moment at your bedside.

✹ he talks to you, tells you stories about everything that's happened since you've been asleep; the time ghost burnt dinner and set the fire alarms off, a robin that landed on the windowsill of your shared room, anything that comes to mind.

✹ sometimes he plays your favourite songs, sitting on the end of your bed softly humming along, praying that you'll hear it and come back to him.

✹ most often though, he draws you. he fills page after page of his sketchbook with sketches of you; the peaceful look on your face as you lay next to him, memories from before the accident, the two of you together – though he always puts infinitely more detail into you than himself.

✹ similarly to the captain, johnny stays positive about your condition, refusing to even entertain the idea of you not waking up. he's optimistic, and so good at hiding the anguish of being without you that even ghost is fooled by his facade.

✹ he won't let the others worry about him. you're the one in the hospital, you're the one that deserves their sympathies, he has to stay positive for everyone so they don't worry, so you have something familiar to come back to when you wake up–

✹ in reality, he's living in denial. he's on the verge of a steep mental nosedive, and if he looks past his delusions for even a second, he's afraid he'll spiral into a pit he won't be able to claw his way back out of.

✹ so he continues to live like that. he has one-sided conversations with you, going on for hours as if you're talking back to him. he brings you your favourite meal when the mess hall makes it, putting it on your bedside table so you can reach it and clearing it up the next day when he comes back.

✹ when you eventually, finally wake up, he's already there with you.

✹ it was late, and against the nurse's wishes he'd climbed into your hospital bed with you, an arm around your shoulder holding you close his chest while his other hand doodles away in his sketchbook.

✹ you let out a small sound and shift against him, and his heart skips a beat under your ear at the realiseation that you're back.

✹ any lingering tiredness immediately disappears from his mind, as he throws his sketchbook carelessly onto the side table and wastes no time in gathering you up into his arms and bringing you into a crushing hug.

✹ a groggy, surprised noise leaves you, the sound of your voice lighting up johnny's face with a smile so wide it aches. he loosens his hold just enough to hold the side of your head with one hand, gazing into your eyes like you were the only person in the world.

✹ "there y'are, bonnie, i missed you so much,"

✹ he presses his lips to the top of your head, his eyes glassing and his heart full with how relieved he is that you're awake.

✹ "...what's going on?" you mutter, your eyes darting all over his face and to the room around you with a confused furrow in your brow.

✹ "lemme call the nurse," he replies with an easy, comforting smile, reaching somewhere behind him for the call button.

✹ while you wait for the nurse, he helps you sit up, adjusting the pillows behind your back so you can sit comfortably, all the while rambling about everything and nothing all at once.

✹ "you should've seen gaz's face, darl, it was priceless–"

✹ "i'm sorry, i��� i dont remember you…"

✹ nothing has ever shut him up quite as effectively as those words.

✹ "wh… what? stop messin' about, bonnie," he chuckles, desperately searching your eyes for the humour that was missing. when you only shake your head in response, the smile fades from his face and quickly morphs into concern.

✹ "sergeant mactavish, how many times do i have to tell you to get off the bed!" the nurse exclaims as she enters the room. he doesn't get down though, just fixes her with the most intense look he's ever worn.

✹ "why don't they remember me?"

✹ the nurse explains that an injury like yours was bound to cause some lasting damage, but amnesia was more often than not temporary.

✹ "i'm sorry, i wish i could remember you…" you mutter, dropping your gaze to your lap as he turns back to you.

✹ johnny exhales deeply, finding a great sense of comfort that you'll most likely get your memory back. he gently tilts your chin up again so he can stare deep into your eyes.

✹ "don't apologise, that just means i get to woo you all over again, bonnie."

ghost

✹ simon would be destroyed.

✹ while you're knocked out its like he forgets how to be human. he eats, sleeps, and breathes on autopilot – like a robot with a function, no feeling, just keeping himself alive until you wake up.

✹ it worries the others, price especially, but the walls around his heart are expertly crafted, and without you by his side he sees no purpose in lowering them.

✹ when you do wake up, the first thing you see is him, sitting at your bedside with his hand enclosed around yours. his eyes are closed, but he's still very much awake, in fact he finds himself unable to rest anywhere but in the chair by your side.

✹ the way you try to pull your hand from his brings him back to the present and alerts him to your consciousness. his eyes snap open in less than a second, already glassy with the pure relief he feels now you're back.

✹ but you're looking at him differently. where there would once be soft affection, now he can only see confusion, and worst of all, panic.

✹ and there's fear in how your shoulders bunch up, but simon tries his best to ignore that thought.

✹ "hey, you're alright, darlin'," he coos, as gentle as he can manage, pushing the rising dread to the back of his mind.

✹ he presses the button to call the nurse, letting go of your trembling hand bringing it up to your shoulder. your worried gaze flicks to his arm and back to his face, which makes him pause in his tracks.

✹ "who… who are you?"

✹ simon's waited so long to hear your voice again, but hearing those four words from you shatters his heart into pieces.

✹ no.

✹ you didn't forget him. there was no way.

✹ "it's…" he swallows hard, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to fall. "it's me, love, it's simon."

✹ you're still looking at him with that same anxious expression, and he curses himself when he realises he's still wearing his balaclava. he practically rips it from his head, dropping it to the floor without a care for where it fell.

✹ your eyes study his bare face, tracing over every crease and scar, the mess of hair on top of his head, and finally landing on his desperate eyes.

✹ "i'm sorry, i…" you look guilty, the subtle shake of your head hurting simon like a knife to the chest. "...do i know you?"

✹ the silence that follows your words is unbearable.

✹ you really did forget him.

✹ all the time you'd spent together, the memories you shared, the love you had; it was all gone, just like that.

✹ suddenly he felt like the walls were closing in on him, he couldn't get enough air and his skin was crawling with the need to escape.

✹ at that moment, the nurse comes through the doors, startling simon into standing from the chair and stumbling backwards. he never takes his eyes off of your guilt-ridden face. you didn't know him, not anymore, and that meant he was all alone again, with no one to care for him and call home.

✹ the emptiness in his chest was enough to make him want to rip the hair from his scalp.

✹ the nurse says something, stealing your attention from him with words he's too overwhelmed to listen to. he takes the opportunity to back away, disappearing through the doors with a hand covering his mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.

✹ it was a miracle to two of you got together in the first place – simon didn't know if he could get you to love him again.

[literally-loco]

My Boys' Girl (18+)

Pairings: John Price / Simon "Ghost" Riley / Fem!Reader / Johnny "Soap" MacTavish Content Warnings: Voyeurism, mentioned exhibitionism, she/her pronouns used for reader Word Count: 1.1k A/N: Shorter fic this time-I've got a longer one in the works tho! Also-If anyone has any fic suggestions PLEASE tell me and i'll try my best xoxo

———————————————————————— “She wanted to show off for you, Cap.”

————————————————————————

John Price knew what his boys got up to in their spare time. He didn’t have to be told-he saw how they looked at each other, how they’d cuddled up to each other in the back of the van when they thought no one was looking, how they’d instantly look at each other at the mention of an “early finish.” He knew what they got up to. Not that he cared-he loved his lads like they were family. He’d shot enough evil glares at anyone who dared to criticize or gossip about the two. But what he didn’t know was how they’d managed to pick up you. The pretty little thing he’d seen clutching Johnny’s arm when they went to the pub, with the most beautiful eyes. He was happy for his lads-how they’d found home in each other, but God his eyes were drawn to you. Your perfect curves, your breasts (even if it made him feel like a dick), and your eyes. He could envision them looking up at him through those beautiful lashes, lips wrapped around his cock. 

He felt terrible about it. The lads obviously liked you a lot, and you’d been nothing but nice to him. And here he was-fantasizing about you. He’d often find himself getting off to you, wearing whatever tight little dress he’d seen you in. Cock in hand, imagining it was your mouth he was fucking. Nearly every night he’d flick through the selfies he’d gotten from MacTavish, nearly every photo including you. 

And then another notification came through-a photo, as usual. But it wasn’t the usual jokey selfie-which usually included you draped over the lads in some sort of way. This was different. This photo was…new. Evidently Ghost’s hands-based on the glove-tilting your face up by the chin, with your big, beautiful eyes staring into the camera. Eyes lidded every so slightly, with a blissed out look on your face. God you looked perfect. 

He hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring at that picture, his cock already stiffening in his trousers, until the next one came through. He exhaled sharply through his nose, gripping the arm of the chair a lot tighter than he had previously. It was like he could feel all the blood in his body rushing down, as he caught sight of you in the photo. Ass up in the air, face down in the pillow. Ghost’s hands were clearly holding your hands behind your back, and your pussy was barely covered by the lacy piece of string you called a thong. 

“She wanted to show off for you Cap.” The text read, and Price sucked in a breath. His hand swiftly reached down to palm his now painfully hard cock through his trousers. He could just imagine slipping his fingers inside you-finding that sweet spot deep inside you that would make your toes curl. 

His fingers were pressing the call button before he knew what he was doing. 

“Evening Captain. To what do we owe the honor?” Johnny’s voice rang out, sounding slightly too amused with himself.

“Photos, MacTavish. What was up with that?” Price asked, his voice catching in his throat slightly at Johnny’s ever so evil chuckle.

Price swears he can hear the plot in Johnny’s head as he spoke, the soft rustling of the duvet giving away where exactly he was. “Why don’t I put her on the phone for you?” 

————————————————————————

You could barely think-but somehow managed to pull yourself together enough to take the phone off of Johnny. “He-Hey John!” You squeaked out, instantly covering your mouth to conceal the moan that dared to try to escape your lips. Ghost’s hands gripped your hips, fucking into you at such speed you wondered how his knees didn’t give out, with his cock hitting that sweet spongy part deep inside you. 

“Heard you wanted to show off for me, love?” His voice rumbled through the phone, dark and smooth like a good whiskey. That teasing tone, the soft chuckle in his words, it was enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Go on then. Talk to me.”

At that, Ghost picked up the pace, hands gripping the flesh of your hip so tight you were sure it would leave bruises. “Is he making you feel good, love? Making your legs shake?” You inhaled a strangled gasp, biting your lower lip slightly. 

“Asked you a question.” Ye-ah-” You whined, bucking your hips back against Ghost. Something about having Price on the phone, with Ghost fucking you like his life depended on it, and Johnny watching from the corner-it felt so dirty. But so good. “Need-need to cum-” 

“I know you do, love. Gonna cum for me?” Ghost’s hands found your clit, earning a string of moans out of you. “Yeah she is-can feel her squeezing around me. So fucking tight-and wet-” Ghost’s thrusts grew staggered, his hips slamming into yours. You didn’t care to be quiet anymore, there was no point. 

————————————————————————

John already knew what was going on. He’d known before he’d called. He knew when he called that you’d be on your back-but he hadn’t expected to be listening. It felt dirty. But God the way your sweet little moans had him gripping his aching cock, and his head tossed back over the chair. Bucking his hips up into his hand, imagining he was fucking your soft little cunt. “Gonna cum for me?” He’d asked-and the gasps and moans he got in return had him gasping for breath. 

“I know you need it, love.” He murmured into the phone, trying his hardest not to cum before you. “Be a good girl and cum for me.” He needed to hear you cum. To hear those gorgeous gasps as you came on his Lieutenant’s cock, imagining he was the one balls deep inside you. “Come on, love, cum for me.” 

And the shuddering moans he received was enough for him to spill over his hand. Panting heavily-he was barely aware enough to hear Ghost’s cursing gasps as he followed. 

“Enjoyed the show then, Captain?” Johnny’s voice was back, sounding equally out of breath as the rest of them. “Should’ve seen it in person-she played such a good girl when you got on the phone.” His words sent another shudder down his back.

“You knew then?” 

“Had a hunch. Couldn’t keep your eyes off of her.” Price groaned as his hand-the clean one-came up to cover his face. He’d been that obvious. The whole time. 

“Don’t worry lad-she’s already eager to see you again. I’m always down for a good show-and Simon’s pretty interested in seeing how she’d take both of you.”  Well shit. The next pub meet was going to go very well for him.

[caotictimmy]

Hey!!! Can you do Curly x (gn, but it's okay if you don't! Whatever you prefer writing) reader headcanons? Post or pre crash idk it's up to you! Even if you want to write a one-shot I don't mind really whatever you feel like writing it's up to you I JUST NEED CURLY CONTENT JDJDJDJJWJSBSB

Btw I hope you have a wonderful day!!!

Thank you!!! I hope your having a good day to! I’m gonna be doing pre crash Curly. I’ll probably be doing the same format I did with Daisuke. Crushing - confessing. Dating than NSFW. It will prob be more Gn but I’ll put (AFAB) when in gonna talk about more AFAB stuff. (Btw this is gonna be like what a regular trip would be for them.)

Crushing - Confession

- Kind of like love at first sight. But it’s a love at first true conversations. Lemme explain

- Yes you’ve had conversations with Curly before. But not on a personal level. Your guys first conversation was prob Like you guys were either both up going to get coffee at a late hour. So when you both see each other where the coffee machine is. You guys make small talk. Before the conversation starts get more real. Not just forced talking. The conversation flows freely. And you guys find out you have a lot more in common.

- After that moment he realizes how much you guys click together. You interest him. So except for him to come up and talk to you a lot more. He wants to get to know you better! (Totally not to remember everything you like and love to woe you)

- He’s another person who’s gonna be a bit obvious. Not as much as Daisuke though. But he’s still gonna be obvious.

- Curly definitely treats you better. Not like he doesn’t treat his crew good (jimmy doesn’t exist here.). But it’s more like picking favorites. Opening doors for you, before letting it slam shut even though Swansea was just about to walk through the door. (Curly got an ear full after that happened.).

- But the funny thing is that no one really notices that you’re getting treated better. Except for Daisuke funny enough… For another example imagine they have his surprise birthday party! He’s cutting the cake and he gives you a noticeable bigger piece of cake. Giving Daisuke a smaller piece. And let me tell you. This man was outraged. HE ASKED FOR THE BIGGEST PIECE AND CURLY GIVES HIM A SCHOOL PARTY SIZED PIECE?

- So of course he had to speak up. “Listen Curly, since I’m such a righteous man, I’ve let the favoritism towards them slide. BUT I CLEARLY ASKED FOR THE BIGGER PIECE! AND YOU GIVE THEM THE BIGGEST PIECE. I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS TREATMENT ANY LONGER!”

- To say everyone was stunned is an understatement. It was quiet for a good couples of minutes. Just standing still like the moment was paused. You then silently switched plates with Daisuke. Taking the smaller piece. He then found balanced was restored!

- “never mind Curly now I get why you favorite them.” He said looking over to you before raising his hand. “High five dude!” He said, smilingly giddily. (I love daisuke he’s so silly!)

- To say Curly was embarrassed would be an understatement. After that moment Curly knew he had to confess to you to soon. So he called you down to the cock pit. When you got there he lead you to sit in one of the chairs. Crouching before you. Holding your hands on his as he stares up at you. “You’ve made me feel emotions I’ve never truly felt before, god you mean so much to me. Will you be my partner.”, He asked.

- When you say yes he cups yours face with his hands. Leaning upwards to bring you in a passionate kiss.

Dating

- Like I said in that brief moment In Daisuke’s headcanons. This man is a die hard romantic to his core. So if you don’t mind. Curly would love to cuddle with you in bed, while watching sappy love movies. Just holding each other. God he loves you sm I’m gonna tweak up in this bitch.

- I think the affection he likes to receive is quality times and words of affirmation . And I think the affection he gives is acts of service and physical affection. Now let me cook. Guys LET.ME.COOK

-(receiving) Curly loves spending time with you. He tried to find as much time to fit you into his busy schedule. So when he finally gets to spend time with you. Omg he’s love sick!!!!!! He really doesn’t care what you guys are doing while being together. Whether that be doing or watching something together. Or maybe doing your own stuff. Your presence is so comforting. You calm him down sm.

-(receiving) He receives compliments a bit. But when you do it. It’s different. It makes his heart flutter, makes him feel like he has butterflies in his stomach all over again! He just feels so special when you compliment him!!!! Please compliment how good of a captain he is. Yes he gets praised for being a good captain. It just feels so genuine from you.

-(giving) He doesn’t care how you guys spend your quality time together. Whether that be doing or watching something together. Or just doing your guys own thing. He just loves being in your presence. You being there just makes him feel calmer, he knows he doesn’t have to keep this big stoic act in-front of you. He doesn’t mind if theirs silence or background noise. As long as he got to spend time with you.

-(giving) Curly isn’t gonna be doing big/a lot of physical affection all the time. Even though he does give you a lot of physically affection. I know I sound dumb right now stay with me. He’s more soft with his affection. Gently rubbing his thumb on your hand. Drawing shapes on your back while cuddling. Rubbing your leg when you sit next to him on the couch. Kissing a bruise you got from falling(those floors look slippery asf PROVE ME WRONG). He’s very romantic and soft with you and Curly’s just such a sweetie.

- A SUCKER for pda. Like he loves it so much. He feels bad if he has to “hide” how much he loves you away from the world! He feels so special knowing you wanted him, HIM! He’s just so sickly in love with you. He wants to show you off. Not in a trophy wife way but in a. Yeah see the drop dead gorgeous person that picked ME, yea that’s right, be jealous.

- He loves if you draw in him! From his hands to his arms. I think he finds it very relaxing and therapeutic. As long as you don’t draw anything inappropriate, he won’t care what you draw. He WILL proudly show off the drawings on his hands and arms. Like FLEX his arms. He loves them sm. Every time you draw on him, he takes a picture and keeps it in a folder on his phone.

- Loves anything you make him. Bracelets? Wears them all the time he might acually get a permanent imprint. Clothe? Try’s to find any opportunity to wear them. Art? Hung proudly in his bedroom. He appreciates anything you do for him. No matter what form affection it is.

- This man loves slinging his arm/arms around you. Arms around your waist. Arm around your shoulder. Hand on your hip. Idk why I think he likes it. But I have that spicy sense.

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (AFAB)

- Another man who would be into public/semi public sex. Y’all have DEFINITELY done it in the cockpit. Like almost everywhere. Curly and you have probably done it on the table too(you guys cleaned it afterwards don’t worry). But I think he just loves the thrill of it. You guys have almost been caught but thankfully Curly knows how to be quiet! (No shade to you Daisuke we love you)

- This man loves keeping his hands on you. Like a FIRMM grip on your hips as he’s hitting it. Gripping yours thighs. He just likes sinking his fingers in your soft flesh. Somehow just kinda grounds him in the moment. He also just loves feeling up your body.🫢

- Speaking of feeling you up. Dry humper. DRY HUMPER. I feel like this man is a tease. So this man will pin you against a wall, and just grind on you. Teasing you until you can’t take it anymore! He loves seeing a pout on your face before he gives you what you want.

- Like before, curly is a tease. He will push all your buttons. Just get you right there! Then stops. He wants to make sure when you climax. It’s better than the last time you guys had sex. It’s a GOAL for him to make you feel even better than the last time you guys slept together.

- Loves overstimulating you. Unlike Daisuke who accidentally overstimulates you. It’s Curly’s mission to get you brain dead by the end. He knows he’s making you feel good. This man won’t over do it though. Your comfort and safety is his priority! So he’ll always make sure you’re comfortable.

- Call him captain!!!!! God Curly gets so riled up when you call him captain. Teasingly calling him captain earns you a night of either overstimulation or edging. So I hope you are aloud to take sick leave, cause wooo…. You will be sore my friend

- (AFAB) Sit on his face.. OH GOOD GOLLY SIT ON HIS FACE. I imagine he’s buff. Like have you SEEN that fanart. So he can definitely take a lot of weight!( shout out my cubby AFABs i really wanna make a chubby reader FIC but idk..) BUT PLEASS, he’ll beg on his hands and knees. Like why are you keeping that tantalizing gift away from him???

- Yes I’ve been saying he can be a freak.(guys I promise I’m trying to be original 😭🙏) But I definitely think he’s More into romantic, soft sex. He likes to take his time. Kissing up and down your body. He wants to make sure you feel loved, and that he’s not just using you for your body. He is a sucker for you.

- He loves watching your face when he’s pleasuring you. No matter what he’s doing or where. He wants to know your getting pleased! That’s how he figured out what you liked and didn’t like fast. He kept his eyes trained on your face. He truly is a giver!

Authors note: GUYS I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. IVE BEEN HAVIBD SIRE AFFECTS FROM MY PLAN B. Like dude I’ve been bed ridden for the past two days. But I’m feeling better and it’s the weekend. So more requests are on the way!

[harrysmimi]

Finally Your Husband

Synopsis: YN and Harry tie the knots together in an intimate and private ceremony in Italy and they get to hear an amazing news.

Series Master list | More of My Work

YN was nervous.

She was on brink of having a breakdown. Everything was turning out to be so perfect yet everyone was giving her a big hard time.

The way her grandma wasn't attending was a cherry on top for her but her parents were attending. The way it was the people who loved and respected her boundaries and parents giving her a hard time taunting her every little choice. A few of her cousins were attending too, and most of them YN hated. It was just amazing and hell on earth at the same time. They were Harry's Italian villa where he proposed to her.

One of her cousin got drunk and almost tore his scrotum while dancing during one of the pre-wedding ceremonies. Niall was a real helper driving him to the nearest hospital. And two of her other cousins threw a fit of fight when they found out they were wearing the same outfit.

The pre wedding ceremonies were lowkey too. It was a whole week long spiel and a half.

"I don't know why I am nervous!" She whined on the phone with her soon to be husband, her eye welled up with tears. She was all ready and they were just fifteen minutes away from being married.

There was going to be two ceremonies back to back and long night of partying.

"Baby." Harry cooed, "just fifteen minutes okay?"

While he tried his best to assure her everything is going to be fine, it wasn't putting her at ease. Her life was about to change for good.

Just a few years ago she wasn't even interested in seeing anyone (she in fact hated the idea) and now here she is about to marry the love of her life. Everything between fear and pure ecstasy was just running in rounds in her head.

Harry was just two stories down from where she was but she couldn't go see him. YN was having a breakdown. She was nervous thinking what possibly could go wrong as everything has been so smooth sailing.

On the other hand, Harry was nervous indeed but he could manage himself. He had just gotten into his suit as he was done with his hair.

He got a call from Brielle, stating he need to go see his wife (soon-to-be) now. She was having a breakdown. He had quickly put on his coat and headed to where his wife-to-be was.

"Oh my god!" He whispered to himself as he saw her sitting there on the edge of the bed all ready and dolled up, she took his breath away. Even though she was crying. "Angel, you look breath taking!"

She was wearing a white lehenga, and covered in gorgeous jwellery, a soft makeup look with a bold lip.

And that made her son too. "I broke this." She showed him the chain he got her for one of her birthdays and she wanted to wear it as it was so special. It wasn't going to be visible with all the jewelry she was wearing, but still she'd know she is wearing it.

"Hey, it's alright my love." He cooed as he sat next to her. "It's alright. We can get that fixed."

"I wanted to wear it." She managed to whisper between her sobs. "You gave it to me on my birthday."

"I know, but-" he was cut off when YN's brother's wife, Jasmine came in with a sewing box.

"I knew this was going to be handy- oh Harry?" She was quite surprised. "I am sorry, I should have knocked but she is crying."

"No, it's fine." Harry assured her.

"Look we are going to fix it okay for now?" She took YN's necklace. Soon after her mother walked in as well. She helped Jasmine fix the necklace. They just tied the broken ends with a piece of things thread. It wasn't a permanent solution but it was going to work for now. "Come here let me put this on." Jasmine even put it on for her and even attempted to fix her makeup too.

Harry watched the way her mum looked at her. They both looked exactly the same he figured. He just wished she would have spoken with her then, he could tell she wanted to. She had tears in her eyes seeing her daughter as a bride. It just broke his heart a little.

"I will come and get you in a while. And Harry you probably have to be there in a few minutes too." Jasmine informed both, soon her and YN's mum left.

"Hey, you good?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I am sorry." She mumbled, "I think I'm about to get my period. I don't know why I am crying so much."

"Don't say that." He pulled her in for a hug, "you don't have to say that. It's a big day, and it's okay to feel this way."

"This is so overwhelming." She mumbled against his chest.

"I know, but it'll be alright. I'm right here with you, yeah?"

It had just been five minutes Harry had to go out as the ceremony would begin. First it was the traditional Indian way. And then it was Niall officiating their wedding. Everything went as smoothly as possible. Soon YN realised she was panicking for nothing everything was just perfect.

They both cried twice as she walked down the aisle twice.

"You may kiss your bride, Harold." Niall announced as he stepped away.

Harry was quick to pull his wife in as he picked her lips gently before he got her in a bear hug. YN wrapped her arms around him

Her husband has been by her side for the entire day. It was time for their first dance.

"I can't believe we are married now." She said they both swayed to the soft music playing.

Harry leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Mhmm. I am finally your husband."

"Yeah? I am your wife now." She couldn't help but smile sheepishly at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He got flustered seeing her watch him with love heart eyes.

"Can you kiss me?" She asked.

"You know I will." With that he pressed his lips on hers, not shying away that her parents and brother are present there like they used to. She's his woman now and he is her man. "I love you so much!"

"I love you so much!" She reciprocated.

The rest of the night was flawless. Niall and Zayn got drunk off their arse as they danced to Gasolina for the fifth time. The food was amazing.

"You're not going to have anything to drink?" YN asked her husband.

"No, I am done. Had a glass of wine." He shared as he pulled her closer to his side as he watched his former band mates dance like idiots. "Want to stay present." He pressed a kiss on her head.

"Awh!" She cooed.

"Come on guys!" Gemma pulled them both to the dance floor, she was halfway hammered too there. They had a very fun night.

Harry was still on the dance floor as YN retrieved back feeling tired as her adrenaline started to wear off slowly but surely. Her husband wasn't drunk but he was having fun like his friends if not more.

Soon people started leaving to go back to their accommodations and it was just the close family left there to clean up a bit before everyone headed back. As it was Harry's (now theirs) villa all the bride and groom had to do was walking up the stairs to their bedroom.

It was all decorated with pretty candles and flowers. "Oh see the mood is already set for us." Harry announced as he hugged his wife from behind. "To be honest, this wasn't needed I had my eye on you since this morning." He had been worked up all night, actually all day. She looked absolutely dead drop gorgeous in that dress and she is wife now. That all together new feeling.

YN was quick to turn around in his arms. "Yeah?"

"Mhmm." He nodded and pecked her lips gently.

"This is going to be a big hassle to get out of." She reminded him that she is wearing a Lehenga with hundreds if not thousands of pins holding it together.

"Don't worry we have all the time in the world." He assured her as his hand went up her back behind her Chunni as he tugged onto the string of her blouse.

On a serious note, he did help her get out of the heavy outfit. They had a great laugh as it kept tugging on one thing or another. YN finally got out of the lehenga. He was also just in his trousers by now.

"You were wearing sweat pants underneath that the white day?" Harry giggled.

"Yes! And I was still cold." She pouted as she took off her bangles as she was sat on the bathroom counter.

"Awh, my baby!" He cooed, "let's hand this up, yeah?" He nicely hung up the fit on the designated hanger carefully and hung it over the bathroom door. "Now where were we." He went back to her, stepping between her legs.

"Where were we?" She placed the last of the bangles she took off in their designated box as she looked up at him.

"I'd rather show you." With his arms wrapped around her waist he picked her back and walked back to their bed. She laughed feeling his fingers dig into her side tickling her. He gently placed her on the bed as hovered over her pressing his mouth to hers. His hands wandered on her back to unhook her blouse she still had on. "This okay?"

"Yes." She nodded, her hands on his hips as he helped her out of the blouse that's when she noticed the bulge. She was quick to unbuckle his belt and get rid of his pants.

"No let me do the work now." He stopped her, reaching down to the waist band of her sweats and sliding them down with her panties. He got down on his knees as his lips left a trail of soft and eager kisses down her neck to her stomach to her inner thighs. YN let out a soft moan as she felt his mouth on her, his tongue teasing her bud.

Soon enough she was pulling him back to her, he was quick to press his mouth on hers. Her juices are still on his mouth as he pushes his tongue in her mouth, flawlessly dominating over their very heated moment.

"I want your cock in me now." She demanded, propping herself up on her elbows.

He chuckled softly as he undid his trousers and took off his boxers. "Very demanding, aren't we?" He was back on top of her. He lines his tip against her weeping hole as he pushes inside her with ease. "Can never get over the feeling of your pussy on my cock, baby!" He groans softly with his forehead on hers.

YN just let out a soft moan holding onto his shoulders. "Want it to be soft this time." She whispered.

"Mhmmm." He agrees moaning as he could feel her walls pulsing around him.

"Fuck! Right there!" She gasped feeling his cock plunging in her softly yet firmly.

"Yeah, you like it baby?" He looked at her before pecking her lips, earning a nod of satisfaction from her. "That's it baby, lay back and relax. Gonna take care of my wife!"

YN laid back on bed. Harry was quick enough to grab the pillow for her before she rested her head back, not forgetting to keep on with his slow and firm thrusts. Dipping his head down he latched his mouth on her hardened nipple, whilst his hand was busy kneading the other making her back arch.

"Oh yes!" She moaned softly again, gasping for air as she floated away in pleasure.

"Oh yes baby, you gonna cum?" He looked at her again.

"Yeah. I want you to cum in me." She requested. This isn't the first time.

"Yeah? You want me to cum in you baby?" He said getting his hand down to rub her clit making her jolt in surprise.

"Yes please!" She sighed.

"Yeah, almost there baby, urgh!" He thrusts were getting harder and harder as he couldn't hold it back, feeling her pulsing harder around him. Soon he was releasing his load in her pussy with the last few thrusts. "Fuck that was amazing!" He chuckled, still inside her.

"Yeah." She pulled him down for a kiss. "I love you so much Harry!"

"I love you so much!" He kissed again. Rolling over he pulled her in closer. "We are finally married."

"Mhmm." She nodded, looking at him with tired yet love-heart eyes. "We're married now, I can't wait to grow old with you!"

"Yeah? I promise I will love you even after we're seventy." He mumbled softly against her forehead before pressing another kiss on her skin. It was a joke as they danced to Thinking Out Loud by Ed, making her giggling.

"Oh you better!" She warned him.

"You know I will, baby!" He pushes back to look at her, "do you want to get cleaned up and go to sleep?"

"Mhmm." She nodded.

Harry was quick enough to help her get cleaned and helped her get into one of his t-shirts before they were off to bed.

.......................................................................

Harry woke up feeling super hot for some reason, he back was all sweaty as YN slept closer to him, her face buried in his back.

"Baby?" Harry carefully turned around and moved closer to her wife who was still asleep but shivering and burning up. That was enough to get him out of sleep in an instance. "Baby, you alright?"

"Hmmm?" She sounded.

"You're burning up my love." He whispered.

"Yeah I am cold. I just want to sleep." She mumbled. The worst thing about her was how she managed to sleep through fever.

"Let's go see a doctor first, yeah?" He suggested, "you can sleep when we get back."

"Can we go later?" She mumbled again, pulling the blanket over her mouth and curling up even more.

"Babe, come on now. You're burning up." He insisted, "I promise we'll make it as quick as possible, yeah?"

"I- fine we'll-." She ran off to the toilet and started throwing up.

"Oh no." Harry mumbled as he rushed to her and held her hair back and rubbed her back. "It's alright sweetheart. We'll go see a doctor."

Harry was quick to drive her to the nearest hospital, they were asked to wait luckily there was no rush there and they got in without an appointment. The doctor did a basic physical exam.

"Have you eaten anything recently which might upset your stomach?" The doctor asked as he documented in his computer.

"No, I have been eating healthy for our wedding." YN explained.

"Oh congratulations!" The doctor smiled, "don't worry we'll look into it. Have you tried taking a pregnancy test?"

"Not recently." YN shrugged, suddenly feeling anxious as she looked at her husband. "But I'd be open to one if we can do it here."

"Sure." The doctor nodded. "We'll also get the blood work done if necessary too."

"Yeah. Thank you." YN nodded.

Soon enough a nurse guided the couple to a room where YN can take the pregnancy test in privacy. She was nervous and she was already crying.

"It's okay baby." Harry tried his best to calm her down as they waited for the longest five minutes. "What does it say?"

"It's positive." She started sobbing.

"Oh my god!" He was quick to pull her in the tightest hug ever.

"We're going to be Mummy and Papa!" She mumbled as she sobbed.

"Yeah!" Harry rocked her side to side in excitement.

That was the happiest moment of YN's life there but she was still burning up with fever. Doctor gave her some mild medicines to take and advised her to rest as much as she can.

That's exactly what Harry made her do. He drove her back home to their Villa. Made her feel all comfy as he fixed her a quick meal.

They postponed their honeymoon until YN feels better and is fit to travel and spend their time in and resting and taking in the news.

......................................................................

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @onlyangelrihana @supersanelyromantic @haarrrys @originalsoulcollector @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stilesissaved @allthelovehes @sunshinemoonsposts @harryssky1 @sofia-faustina @stylesfever @reputationolivia @kittenhere

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I’ve been on my criminal minds rerun and it made me come up with this Spencer request if you’re taking them right now! Something along the lines of the reader and Spencer being together and she becomes pregnant but he pieces it together before she does!

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok♡ 1k

cw fem!reader has a positive attitude towards her pregnancy. vaguely adult theme

"I really don't think I can go," you say, flopping down on the bed. 

Spencer laughs and shakes out the shirt in his hands, hoping the creases from the dryer will iron themselves before dinner tonight. "You always say that."

"I really mean it this time. I miss Hotch, I do, and I'm glad he's out of WITSEC, but thinking about the restaurant is making me queasy." 

"Really? I looked it up, it's a nice place. They have their Grade A, it should be spotless in there. I'm pretty sure they almost got a Michelin star." 

You groan, turning onto your side. "I looked too. The entire menu is seafood," you whine. 

"What's wrong with that?" Spencer asks, giving you a quizzical look. 

"The smell." You rub your nose against his pillow and sigh. "I don't feel good. Didn't rough me up in my sleep, did you?" 

"I would never do that," he says, putting the last of the laundry aside to sit by your hip. His hand rests naturally against the slight curve of your side, fingertips pushing the hem of your shirt up enough to steal a glance at your back. 

He wouldn't say this aloud and it doesn't matter, but you've gained a little weight recently. Actually, it does matter in that he thinks it's adorable, but he knows that telling your partner they've gained weight is a faux pas. He likes it, anyhow. It's happy weight. 

Things are so serious now but they don't feel serious. There's no solemness in your relationship, just comfort. He's putting on weight in tandem. 

"You really don't want to go?" Spencer asks. The earlier he lets Hotch know the better. 

You wrap an arm around your stomach. "Sorry, Spence. I'm so sorry, I've felt sick all day and I think it'll just be a repeat of yesterday morning." You puked before breakfast, the smell of eggs too much to bear.

Spencer feels it click into place then and there. The weight, the puking, your changing taste. Your sore chest and lower back, your sensitivity. 

He pushes you gently, a hand on your hip to encourage you down. Careful, he lays down next to you, propping his head on the pillow as he brings hand up to hold you. He can't know for sure… but if you're pregnant as he suspects, it fits. And more than that, it's insane. He doesn't know how to handle this besides wrapping you up in his arms. He'll keep you forever, if he can. 

"Don't be sorry," he says, his voice faraway. You relax completely in his arms, sliding your leg over his to lock him in. "Does your back still hurt?" 

"My chest, Spence," you lament, "it feels like I'm winded. I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe you shouldn't be near me." 

"In that case, I'm staying right here." 

You laugh softly, the warmth of it a circle on his shoulder. "I can call Hotch myself and say sorry. I'll feel better in a few days, and we'll reschedule, and I'll pay even if he tries to." 

Spencer draws a line up your back. Now or never. 

He steels his nerves, the beginning of a hypothesis hesitating on his tongue. Your symptoms in addition to your irregular period and your regular sex lives points toward pregnancy. How does he say that? How should he say it? Should he even bring it up? Perhaps he should wait until you discover it yourself. And you aren't definitely pregnant, it's just a possibility. Maybe you're simply sick—

"Hey, earth to handsome," you whisper, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. You smile as he snaps out of his thoughts. "Hey. I lost you for a few seconds, where'd you go?" 

"Nowhere. I'm here." 

Your smile gets impossibly fond. It's not dissimilar to how you usually look at him. "Are you okay?" 

"Fine. I love you." 

"I love you," you say. 

There's something about you now, this gaussian blur to you. Sunlight seeps in lazily through the blinds thick as honey, a golden kiss to your skin where you lay face to face with him, and your I love you makes him want to cry. This is all ridiculous and amazing and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to make his mouth move into the right words. 

"What is it?" you ask. You know him better than anyone. 

"I think you're pregnant." Spencer winces, though he can't beat his smile into submission. "I mean. You could be pregnant." 

"Why do you think that?" you ask, visibly startled. 

"Your sensitivity to strong smells, your soreness, your late period, to name the more obvious. That's not factoring in your worsening low iron lately, and your headaches." You make a strange sound he doesn't like. "What?" he asks worriedly.  

"I'm late," you say into yourself, looking past him as you puzzle it over. 

"It's a good thing, if you are. I mean, it's an amazing thing if you want it to be. I'm saying everything wrong. It's only amazing if you want it to be, I want it to be. But I'm on your side no matter what." He grimaces into his hands, rubbing his face with both palms. 

You sit as he panics. He clicks his neck looking up, racing to follow you, alarmed as you shimmy down the bed toward the ensuite bathroom. 

"What are you–" 

"I'm gonna take a test." 

"Wait a second." Spencer catches your hands before you can get too far, pulling you back to the end of the bed to sit down. "Wait. Is it– is it bad? If you are?" 

You look down at your stomach briefly. Anyone else might miss it, but Spencer can't not follow your behaviour, and the way you're acting now makes him think he got it wrong. That you won't be happy. 

You grab Spencer's hand. "You know, it's not funny. All our friends are gonna ask how I found out, and I'm gonna have to admit that you noticed it first." Your eyes track up his face almost shyly, and soon your smile is as blistering as his. 

Spencer bends under your weight as you jump up, throwing your arms behind his neck, your lips smashed to his ear. "I love you," you whisper urgently, "so much. This is good, right? This is really good." 

"Are you kidding?" he asks incredulously. 

Spencer takes your face into two hands and kisses you as hard as he ever has. He realises a second in that he'd much rather be squeezing you, caging you into the circle of his arms unrepentant. 

"We have a really good excuse to miss dinner," Spencer says.

He sounds close to tears. You're worse, laughing wetly as you pull him into the bathroom to take your test. 

[hysteria-things]

(say the reader is famous also, but not an influencer—maybe like a well known model) hear me out, being close friends with madi and you guys end up moving in together and getting your first apartment

and you come home later than usual one night after ‘hanging out’ with matt and madi knows something is up just by the way you’re walking all slow and stuff and you eventually tell her that you had sex with matt for the first time and she’s just like “omgggggg????? tell me EVERYTHING!” and despite not being able to laugh too hard or else you’ll feel like your pussy is going to rip open LOL you two are just sitting on the couch giggle and talking about the whole thing

PERFECT

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: although you’re a well-known model, you’ve been feeling insecure about your body lately. matt thinks it’s bogus, and wants to prove you wrong.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, insecurity, praising, oral (female receiving), pet names, p in v

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,075

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i kind of hate this😔

before you and matthew sturniolo started seeing each other, he would always lurk on your instagram page. the two of you met through madi, who is your best friend. you guys met at an event a few years ago and clicked instantly. fast forward to today’s time, where you now share an apartment.

you noticed matt being subtle on your page at the beginning of whatever you guys have going on. no, it’s not friends with benefits, being that you guys haven’t had sex yet. he would leave comments such as fire emojis or hypes until he was brave enough to text you a few months ago. that’s how your relationship came to be. nobody knows about it, not even madi or his brothers. you guys made the mutual decision to keep it on the down low for now.

walking through the boy’s bedroom door, you go over to the side of the bed that you sleep on, gathering some of your belongings. you just got back from a photoshoot. being a model has its ups and downs, especially when you’re on the chubbier side. you get a lot of praise from your fans, saying how you’re an inspiration. sometimes, however, it can be frustrating.

“i don’t get a kiss or even a hug?” matt says, who looks away from his phone to stare at you putting your stuff in the overnight bag you always bring.

you look over your shoulder and smile. “sorry.”

as you’re placing the bag down, he’s already sat up and sitting at the end of the bed. you go to kiss him on the temple, but instead, he pulls you over his lap to where you straddle him — although you hover a bit.

he pouts. “you’re not staying the night again?”

shaking your head, you brush a piece of hair away from his face. “i told madi i’ll be home tonight. i feel bad whenever i leave her alone, and i can’t keep up with the ‘my mom needs me to sleepover’ excuse.”

a sigh comes out as more of a groan, his lips traveling to your jaw, pecking down your neck and nipping at the skin. “you can’t put marks, matt.” you say in a whine as he reaches your sweet spot. you take a look at the clock on the nightstand, reading 9:14 pm. “it’s getting late and i have to go. i mean it.”

you get out of his grasp, another sigh leaving his body more dramatically.

matt furrows his eyebrows; something’s not right. he can sense something is bothering you, he just can’t put his finger on it. “what’s wrong?”

laughing nervously, you shake your head. “i’ll get over it.”

“that’s not what i asked— hey.” when you ignore him, he grabs your wrist to turn you around. “look at me, please. tell me what’s bothering you.”

you hate how matt’s so good at this game. he can tell when you’re upset, even in the slightest way possible. you can sugarcoat your true feelings with fake happiness, and he’ll still notice that something isn’t right.

on occasion, you like to look at comments under the recent posts that you make. most of the comments are positive, but one of the downsides of the modeling community is the negative ones. you try your best to ignore them, but sometimes they hurt. this is one of those times.

“i don’t like my body.” you barely whisper, fidgeting with his necklace as you think back to the haters.

“what?” he asks confused.

“forget about it.” you start, tugging at your hoodie sleeves. “seriously, i’ll get over it. it’s stupid people saying shit online. it happens to everybody. it’s fine.”

you do love your job, don’t get yourself wrong, but showing off your body in lingerie as a career can attract the wrong people. in general, it’s quite nerve-wracking. he kisses your cheek before his breath is against your ear. “you’re fucking gorgeous.” he bites the lobe. “let me show you, hm?”

his fingertips brush from your thighs to the hem of your shirt. “can i?” a pulsing sensation starts between your legs, taking your bottom lip with your teeth and nodding.

your shirt ends up on the floor, matt reaching behind your back to unclip your bra that ends up where your other piece of clothing is. he stares, a wide grin plastering his face. “shit.” he says lowly, squeezing your breasts before running his hands down to the buttons of your shorts. the pulsing remains, becoming much stronger.

heart thumping, you don’t make a peep as your shorts and underwear drop to the ground. you’re refusing to look down at your body, but that’s all matt is admiring. a chill runs up your spine as his lips kiss your flesh like before, but it’s more heated while you’re naked and he’s still fully clothed.

they trail to your tits, matt kneeling to reach your stomach and kissing your stretch marks, too. “so pretty.” he mumbles, ending at your thighs and repeating these actions until you’re face to face again.

going over to the bed, he lays back flat and gestures for you to come over as well. you hesitate but do so. he maneuvers your body to hover over him, or in this case, over his face. “i don’t want to hurt you.” you whine, knowing what he wants you to do.

the eye roll is so intense that it’s like you said the most out-of-pocket thing he’s ever heard in his life. “you’re soaked.” he exhales. “all of this for me?”

pink creeps on your cheeks and you nod like how you did before. being so turned on makes it almost impossible to speak. squeezing your plush thighs to keep you in place, he lowers you onto his mouth.

a gasp falls past your lips, his tongue flicking at your folds. you want to get pressure off of him at least a little bit, but he has you fully sat on his face, and he fucking loves it. soft moans along with the slurping noise fill the room, matt’s head shaking at times to feel all of you on his tongue. your pussy tastes incredible to him.

sucking at your clit, his tongue enters your sopping hole. you throw your head back, chest heaving when your moans turn into whimpers. he has you stable in his grip, pure bliss fogging your brain. “oh my god!” you cry out, slamming your eyes shut and grabbing onto his hair.

matt hums, the vibration making your legs close around his head. a hotness forms in your tummy, orgasm building the more his muscle laps in your cunt. “mm— i’m gonna cum.” you gasp, his mouth returning to your clit and sucking at your bud. you swear out loud, legs shaking while you make a mess on his face. you feel his tongue lick the excess cum from your thighs, flinching every time he does so.

in the blink of an eye, he uses his strength to flip you onto your back. your breath hitches as he runs his bottom lip up your body, the clinking of his belt entering your ears until his pants fall join the clothing pile. leaning up to take his shirt off, a grin plasters over his face, admiring your body in every way possible. you lift your head to look down at his rock-hard cock, mouth watering at the sight.

he wraps his hand gently around your throat to push your head back onto the mattress. “you want this dick?” he coos, teasing the tip at your entrance to coat it with your juices. you whine lowly, rutting your hips to get more friction. “hm?”

“y-yes.” you stammer, letting out a choked moan as matt starts pushing himself slowly into your hole. the stretch feels mesmerizing, your eyes fluttering closed when he rolls his hips.

“this pussy has been waiting for this.” he says, humming with contentment when your walls wrap around him. “you look so sexy underneath me.”

“f-faster, please.” you choke out, gripping onto the sheets by your sides.

the movement of his hips plow into you more, your ass slapping against his thighs and an erotic sound comes from where you two are conjoined. numerous curses and whimpers escape your body. his balls slap repeatedly against your clit, the feeling making you gasp and your legs shake. “fuck, matt! yeah!”

“i bet those haters are just jealous they can’t have this beautiful body to themselves.” he starts, pausing to catch his breath. “they can’t fuck it like i can.”

“y-you can’t say that.” you whimper, until the two fingers without rings pacify you. you gag a little around them before you start to suck on them, drool dribbling down your chin. the bed starts to squeak when you wrap your legs around his waist to have him go deeper, your moans muffled by his fingers when he hits your g-spot, back arching from the bed.

“there she is.” he whispers, smiling proudly. “that’s it. you want to cum, baby?”

you clench around his shaft, legs shaking more than they were before. you nod eagerly, the knot tightening in your belly. matt groans, watching your hands go to your breasts to tease and pinch the nipples for more stimulation. you can’t make it out, but you could’ve sworn he mumbles so hot under his breath when his dick twitches inside of you. your eyes roll back, mouth opening wide to scream of pleasure.

body trembling, the knot becomes undone when your cum smears down his red dick, the sight having matt pull out with a whimper. he strokes himself a few times before painting your stomach white.

he collapses on top of you, pecking your lips and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. you get a glimpse of the clock and sigh. 10:32 pm. talk about getting home early.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

you finally get to your apartment complex forty-five minutes or so later. you live on the third floor and usually take the stairs, but you’re so soar that you wobble yourself into the elevator. you walk as fast as your legs can take you down the hallway to your front door, keys jingling once you tap the key fab to open it. a beep noise echos, meaning you succeeded.

once you turn the handle, you're greeted with the TV lighting up the living room and madi’s head snapping in your direction where she’s sitting on the couch. “it’s about time! did you not see my texts or calls? you had me worried. you’re never this late after a shoot.”

“i’m sorry.” you exhale. “i had to make a pit stop.”

her eyes slit, watching the way you’re semi-limping to the seat next to her. you grunt when you manage to sit, looking over to see her mouth agape but smiling. “what?”

“you had sex.”

“you don’t know that.” you scoff, but hide your face as much as possible when you blush, reminiscing about tonight.

“girl.” she gives you the are-you-serious stare. “you’re practically shining with the post-orgasm glow, and you came walking in here like an old lady. who was it with? do i know them? tell me, tell me, tell me!”

madi grabs onto your arms and shakes them in excitement, bouncing on her knees on the cushion. “mattandihavebeenseeingeachotherbehindeverbody’sbacks.”

her nose scrunches. “huh?”

you exhale sharply, checking your phone that’s on your lap to see some messages from the boy that had you screaming on his cock over an hour ago. “matt and i have been seeing each other behind everybody’s backs.”

she claps her hands once, awfully loud, before pointing at you. “i fucking knew it. tell me everything. pretty please.”

so you do. you explain everything — well, you leave out the explicit details — and she’s beaming the whole time as you speak. your phone goes off again, and she grabs it before you can. “madi, come on!” you screech between giggles. she reads the messages with wide eyes, and you peek over her shoulder to see.

matt :)

babe

you left your bra here

should i try it on?

i’ll look good in it

hello :(

did you fall asleep already?

i think we should make it official

be my girlfriend please

i’ll see you tomorrow

i love you

whoops never said that before

oh well!

goodnight <3

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @etershine @tpvmz @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | h. jisung <3

a/n: oh boy do my jisung feels have me dizzy ! i love him so deeply and eternally it's ridiculous :,,,-) pics not mine <3

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.7k | warnings: none really! | pairing: soulmate!jisung x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

the year you’ll meet your soulmate, you receive a one-sentence description of how you’ll meet.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“jisung!” chan called from the entrance to the apartment, “you’ve got mail!”

jisung appeared with a confused expression, not able to recall any recent purchases that would result in a delivery. his confusion grew when he saw how bright and wide chan’s smile was. if he weren’t so sleepy from the nap, jisung probably would’ve put the pieces together as soon as he held the lavender envelope in his hand.

inside, there was a small piece of paper, with one sentence typed perfectly in the center: after a near-miss, they’ll recognize you by the sound of your voice.

chan shimmied his shoulders, “what does it say?”

jisung’s brain buffered, still not quite understanding what this was about. it clicked after the fifth or sixth time he read the sentence.

“how does this help me?” he groaned.

chan gently picked the fateful piece of paper from jisung’s hands and read it himself, “huh.”

jisung scoffed, “yeah.”

“at least it’s…..romantic?”

jisung’s unamused look was enough to make chan giggle, which allowed a smile to peek through jisung’s annoyance, “romantic, but an entirely unhelpful clue as to how i’m going to meet my soulmate.”

“ah come on jisung,” chan patted jisung's shoulder, “you’ve got the whole year to sort out what it means. let’s at least celebrate the fact that you’re meeting them within the next 12 months!”

though frustrated by the ambiguity of the letter, jisung could not deny the way he got an adrenaline rush at the thought of his soulmate becoming a part of his life soon. even if he couldn’t anticipate the circumstances of it happening, the inevitability of it changed his perspective on just about everything. the months passed, and the meaning behind the sentence never became clearer. but, by the time he could count the weeks until the year’s end on one hand, jisung couldn’t get the idea of love out of his head.

“jisung!” hyunjin laughed, “you’re making no sense right now!”

“what do you mean?!” jisung retorted, “is it really that crazy of a thing to say?”

seungmin joined hyunjin’s laughter, “yes, it really is that crazy. thinking of love so much while writing these songs must have melted your brain.”

jisung groaned, following behind his friends as they exited the clothing store, “i don’t even know why i’m arguing with you. neither of you have met your soulmates, so clearly you wouldn’t get it.”

“hey! you haven’t met yours either!” hyunjin frowned.

“even if we had, i doubt we’d agree with…whatever it is that you’re claiming,” seungmin made a face of disgust.

jisung’s eyes grew comically wide, “i’m not saying love is related to someone’s feet! i’m just saying, theoretically,” he used his hands to emphasize the fact it was hypothetical, “shouldn’t you know how to describe someone’s toes if you really, truly, deeply love them?” 

hyunjin grimaced. jisung gaped at his friends with desperation. a laugh burst into the air beside them and then wafted away, prompting seungmin to laugh.

“someone, a stranger, just laughed at your theory,” seungmin smirked, “now you’ll never convince me that it’s logical.”

jisung frowned. when he opened his mouth to make another argument, hyunjin shook his head and started walking to their building. this probably saved jisung from digging his grave even further, but it didn’t save him from overthinking the interaction. with each step, he felt a pang in his chest. it seemed unlikely, but what if that moment was the near-miss he’d waited for? he had been talking about love when they laughed at his statement. that had to be some kind of sign, right? 

jisung considered all the possibilities. by the time they made it back into the practice room, he convinced himself he was just desperate, grasping at straws for a sign. he never even saw who laughed, so he couldn’t be sure that they were laughing at what he said. in the end, jisung felt next to no hope and tons of embarrassment. maybe one day he could joke about this story with his soulmate. today, unfortunately, was not that day.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

you set your bag down, sighing in relief at the fact the day was over. 

you went about your evening routine, decompressing from work and listening to your favorite music. your workload was a bit stressful, so you were thankful that the day wasn’t particularly notable. if asked, you probably couldn’t describe anything about your day that stood out. seeing as your brain felt fried, you weren't going to complain about an uneventful day.

as you were getting ready for bed, you glanced at the lavender envelope on your nightstand. it sat there, carefully placed, for almost an entire year. every night you looked at it, trying to figure out any possible scenario that would match its narrative. nothing seemed to fit, not even your most imaginative scenarios. still, like clockwork, you picked up the envelope and traced your finger over the words inside: one day, they’ll make you laugh from a distance, and the next day they’ll confess their love.

you scoffed. sure, sometimes the fact that soulmates existed seemed too good to be true. but this? it felt like it was something that could only make sense in a romance movie, and a farfetched one at that. as you settled into bed, however, you remembered the only interesting thing that happened to you today. it was a fleeting moment, probably nothing special. yet you could hear the person’s voice so vividly, as though they were in the room with you. 

shouldn’t you know how to describe someone’s toes if you really, truly, deeply love them?

you laughed. whoever said that certainly had a mind of their own, which impressed you. still, you had a hard time imagining what would prompt that sentence. perhaps because of its ridiculousness, you wondered if that could be a sign. on the street, you had laughed–too loudly, you feared–when you heard them say it. you felt your heart rate rise, hopeful and excited.

you didn’t want to risk getting your heart broken like so many other times this year, though, so you ran over the situation again and again and again. you hadn’t even seen who posed that strange question. how could you know whether they were your soulmate? it wasn’t the first time a stranger made you laugh, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

you tried to convince yourself that you couldn’t trust the encounter to mean anything, despite how that person’s voice filled your mind as you drifted off to sleep. a part of you felt that you would hear that voice for the rest of your life, even if only in your memory. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

the next day was not as lackluster, but not in a good way. at work, nothing seemed to go right: plans went awry, mistakes were abundant, and every meeting went over time. you sighed deeply when you stepped out of the office, and you sighed again when you checked the time. the only thing you’d been looking forward to was the walk home because there was the potential that you could run into the person behind the voice again. given how the day had gone and how late it was, deflation replaced the small hope that you had clung to all day.

still, you felt your body relaxing as your workplace grew farther and farther away in the distance behind you. there were fewer people around as the evening commute rush had come and gone. you appreciate that, if nothing else, this walk home had offered you peace and quiet.

at least, there had been peace and quiet until someone bumped into you.

“ah! oh my god! i’m so sorry!” 

the person stared at you with wide, flustered brown eyes. you held your hand up to signal that you were okay–and that they could take a breath–but something kept you from speaking. brow furrowed, you tried to figure out what seemed so familiar about this person in front of you.

“wait! you’re the love and toes person from yesterday, right?”

you looked at the stranger with amusement, and jisung’s jaw dropped. he grew more flustered and his ears turned bright red. the embarrassment was quickly balanced out by elation. jisung’s mind recited that frustrating, fateful sentence over and over, until he knew it had to be true.

“i’m in love with you.”

jisung internally kicked himself for that reply. thankfully, you spoke before he had to stumble through another apology.

realizing that this was the laughter to confession of love plotline you’d been waiting for all year, your face lit up, “so it is you. i was hoping there was a reason that i couldn’t get your voice out of my head last night.”

jisung blushed even harder, grinning all the same, “yeah! it’s me! and it’s you! wow!”

“i’m y/n,” you chuckled, charmed by jisung, “what’s your name?”

“jisung!” he answered quickly, “y/n…y/n…” he paused to appreciate how it felt to say your name, “i love your name!”

“well, jisung, i would hope so, given that you are apparently in love with me.”

jisung laughed, hiding his face in embarrassment. at least his soulmate had a sense of humor. he bit his tongue, both to prevent himself from saying something ridiculous again and to cherish the feeling of you being right in front of him after an eternity of waiting.

“sorry again for bumping into you,” jisung rubbed the back of his neck, smiling apologetically, “where are you headed?”

“it’s really okay. it kind of worked out in our favor,” you smiled, which made jisung's knees feel weak, “i’m on my way home from work now.”

“oh! nice! would you…uh…do you think…could i maybe walk you home?”

you felt your cheeks hurting from grinning so much at how endearing jisung was, “you want to walk me home?”

he nodded enthusiastically, “yes, please! i’d love to have a chance to memorize your voice the way you memorized mine.” 

your heart skipped a beat. maybe you were already in love with jisung too. 

unable to think of a reply that could match the sweetness of his answer, you turned your head in the direction of your home, “i live down this way. while we walk, would you mind explaining to me your toe-related claim about love?”

he groaned, “if i do, do you promise not to bring it up again?”

you giggled, stomach doing flips at the way his pace matched yours right away, “that depends on how good of an explanation it is.”

“i’ll take it!” 

jisung’s eyes sparkled as he spoke to you, and you knew that, regardless of the subject, you genuinely could listen to his voice for the rest of your life.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ after hours Another midnight stuck in the office, paperwork and tech piling up by the second. Sometimes, all it takes is a kick in the ass to take a break and remind yourself that you're only human.

content // late nights at work, just some fluff and fun behind the scenes of the hero world. reader’s support tech alias is Mechanica. wc // 0.9k

『 k.bakugo masterlist | caramel & champagne series 』

It’s been a long, exhausting month at the Dynamight Agency. Bakugo’s been on back to back emergency calls and scheduled patrols while you’ve been pulling double shifts to stay caught up with all of the repairs needed from said emergencies. It was a constant stream of issues popping up the second you’d finish fixing the last gadget of the bunch.

“Mechanica! My suit’s on the fritz. Can you check the wiring you installed?”

“Mecha, how’s it going? Sorry to bother you, but I’m out of the electro-bombs you made for me last week. Could you spare a few more?”

“Hey! You’re the top support tech here, right? Red Riot told me to come find ya. I busted my helmet last night and the visor doesn’t work anymore. Can you fix it? The infrared tech seems to have been fried."

Using your quirk for extended periods of time was draining as hell, as helpful as it was. Your fixes typically require a tool or two, or a quick recharge to a piece of gear you’ve created in the past, not three weeks of back-to-back quirk usage. A vacation sounds real nice, but alas, a heroes work is never truly done.

A familiar set of footsteps comes trudging toward the workshop as you’re inspecting a piece of circuitry - you know those boots anywhere.

“Peach, I thought ya went home?” Bakugo asks you while placing a broken gauntlet on one of the open work tables. “Like...hours ago.”

Sarcastically, you wave your hand to the piles of items next to you.

“I was when I messaged you earlier, and then everyone in the damn agency suddenly needed repairs.”

You peer around him to the bracer he placed on one of the other tables. Son of a bitch, you fixed that yesterday!

“Katsuki…you didn’t.”

You don’t mean for your tone to sound accusatory, but you’re grumpy and want to go home. Bakugo huffs under his breath and waves you off.

“Relax sweets, s’just a backup that’s busted. Villain stabbed right through it and it cracked one of the gaskets inside. Still got my good set in the office.”

“Every one is a good set, ‘Ki. I’ll get to it tomorrow, maybe I should build you a third set for when you smash the good pair.”

He knew the bite in your tone wasn’t aimed at him, it’s was just a result of your exhaustion and didn’t hold it against you.

“Why don’t we go home together? Leave all that for tomorrow. S’late,” Bakugo suggests, taking the tools out of your hands and laying them on the table. “Have your team do the dirty work. You’re gonna run yourself into the ground.”

“You have absolutely no room to talk, Mr. Running on Four Hours of Sleep.” You playfully smack him in the bicep before rearranging the tools on the table. “You didn’t even come to bed last night, you passed out on the couch in your hero gear.”

He shakes his head before grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Katsuki! Put me down!” You squeal, half annoyed and half giddy.

“Nah, cause if I do, you’ll be glued to this station for god knows how long." Bakugo smacks your ass to get you to sit still, a grin plastered on his face. "It’s past midnight, peaches. Takin’ you home and throwin’ us both in the shower. And we’re stayin’ home tomorrow, boss’s orders.”

There's no force in the world that could stop Katsuki Bakugo once his mind is made up - no use in fighting the inevitable.

You dramatically let your body rag doll in his hold. "Fine, but you have to carry me all the way home."

“I’d carry you to the edge of the world, sweetheart.”

How does this man one up himself every single day and steal your heart all over again?

“You’re so mushy when you’re tired,” you tease, reaching down to squeeze at his side to tickle him. “If only everyone else could see the big bad Dynamight right now, carrying his exhausted wife home. That would be a hell of a headline.”

Bakugo feigns dropping you in retaliation, catching you at the last second and shifting you back on his shoulder like you were weightless.

“Shut it or I’ll drop you in a puddle on the way home,” he cackles while pinching your thigh. “Ain’t no way in hell I’m lettin’ those paparazzi jackasses catch a glimpse of your ass.”

He makes a fair point. You were already in the spotlight recently, no need to add any more fuel to that fire.

The two of you exit the workshop, turning the lights off and heading to the rooftop to blast home. Bakugo’s version of flying never fails to fill you with adrenaline, a personalized rollercoaster ride all the way from the agency to your shared apartment. When you get home, Phoenix lovingly jumps off the couch and trots over to you two, rubbing between your legs and chirping happily.

“Can you feed Nix, babe?“ you ask as you’re stripping out of your workshop clothes and nodding toward the begging kitty at your feet. “I’ll start the shower. Leave your suit out here, too. We can toss them in the wash tomorrow.”

The domestic routine kicks in for the Bakugo household, just delayed by a few hours. After your shower, the two of you relax together in the bath, enjoying the silence of each other’s company. The alarm clock reads 2:13AM by the time you’re crawling under the sheets, tucked under Bakugo’s arm and cradled against his chest. He turns off the “work” alarm for the both of you, solidifying his decision for a much needed day off.

It’s little moments like these that remind you how human the two of you are in the midst of it all - even heroes need breaks.

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[hyunjinsjeans]

He knows (Chan ver.)

Lee Know ver. | Changbin ver. | Hyunjin ver.

Masterlist

Synopsis: Chan is your husband and he knows you want to start a family, but how does he know? And what happens when he tells you he knows? This. This is what happens.

Type: Fluff 🧸, SFW 👍

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy

Word count: 1140

AN: this is my first piece of writing for anything K-pop-related on this site, please be kind! No proofreading, sorry!

You are married to this man. He defines himself by his job. He lived for it though, after working so hard to get to where he is he also enjoys it so much. So you can’t complain. But he does have one more thing he wants on his instagram bio. So far he is producer, singer, rapper and dancer. As of a year ago he is also husband. He knows the time is right. He knows you don’t want to pressure him but whenever you’re together he can sense the unspoken words flying around in the air between the two of you.

Oh yes, Chan knows. He knows how to read people, and you are top of the list of his favorite ones. He will read you like a book. He will understand even the things you don’t say, he will know the second you are ready. He will, however, wait for the right moment. Sometime when he knows he will have the energy, the free time and the emotional availability to do it.

He owes you his full attention if you are doing this together.

And once he seizes the opportunity he is going in for the kill. He proposes it in a serious tone. If it asn’t just the two of you, it would seem you were having a “family meeting”. He is straightforward about it.

“We should have a kid, Y/N. I think it’s time, I’m ready and you’re ready.”

And the words get caught in your throat because what the hell? You were incredibly ready. He knew this, you knew this. Your friends probably knew this.

From the way you cooed at any and every child under 5 whenever you spotted one, how little kids gravitated toward you at the park or at the movies and you always had a kind smile to offer them along with the helping hand finding their parents, to the way you seemed to constantly be handed strangers' babies at the grocery store or at airport lines.

It was no news. You always loved kids and after getting married and moving to your own home, you made it a point to have a guest room and an empty room. Chan had noticed. Why leave a room completely empty? “Just in case we need it someday” you had shrugged when he asked. But it was painfully obvious a few months into the move that you visited that room and stared at the empty walls with bright shiny eyes, with a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips in a way so subtle it was almost imperceptible, you always left the room with a sigh and a bowed head as if ashamed to have the plans you had for that room. Chan had witnessed it enough times to have you figured out. It brought a warmth to his heart, seeing how eager you were about the subject and yet you kept quiet because you didn't want to put any pressure on him, thinking he already had a lot to deal with as the leader of a very successful group.

So of course, the second he said those words you couldn’t help yourself. “Oh I was waiting for you to be ready!”

Chan lets out a joyful laugh, his eyes become tiny as his cheeks grow puffy with the glee in his reaction.

“I know!” He exhales, “but you didn’t say anything and I’m tired of it. When you want something -anything, please just tell me!” His expression softened "I'll always have time to listen to you, and there's nothing you can ask of me that I wouldn't give you."

He is leaning on the kitchen table while you’re sitting opposite him. You push yourself back on your chair and look at him with a side smile on your face, the rice cooker making its beeping sound to signal dinner is ready.

“How am I supposed to drop that one on you?!” You laugh as well, it’s clear you are not really arguing “Am I supposed to say “hey Chan, I want a baby” or what?”

“Well… yeah.” He scratches at his neck, “that’s okay, it’s a good way to start talking about it.”

You huff and look away, but ultimately you are pretty happy he brought it up. He knows this as well; there is no hiding your enthusiasm, you're practically buzzing.

“I do want to have a baby, Chan” you lean forward on the table, your elbows on the hard surface while you hide your smile behind your hands.

Chan sighs, stilling his laughter as he pulls the chair back to take a seat and stare at you. He poses his arms and hands the same as yours, mirroring your actions.

“I want that too”, he mumbles, shy but true.

“Can we have that?” You wonder, your eyes falling on his hands, soft yet strong.

Chan has held you many times, and supported you through different times. You know he can be a perfect constant to hold on to, but you wonder if his career can take this. If he can be there for you for this. Because if you are honest, your biggest fear is that he will put too much pressure on himself if he tries to be a leader and a good partner to a pregnant wife at the same time. You have always known him to be the kind of guy to step up without anyone asking him to. You have learned from him to be the same, to grow stronger for Chan to have someone to support him as well...but this time you have to be realistic, how much can you share the weight of things once you are also worried about the safety of a baby? How much stress can you take from him while getting ready to have a kid.

He drops his hands on the table, you have moved your gaze from his eyes to his hands to the table. You are doubtful, you are pulling away from him as you speak.

“We can.” He assures you, reaching out to pull your hands in his. “We can do this.”

Chan brings you back with his words, his tone is honest and bright. His eyes are full of joy and excitement.

You feel the warmth of his skin on your skin and look up with hope, your trust in him is so complete you nod, you don’t even think about it as you reply. You would die for your husband. You would take all the pain, all the responsibility, and hardships for him. And so would he for you. This is why doubting what you two can accomplish together is ridiculous, you shake your head from all those doubts and squeeze his hands between your own.

“Let’s do this.” You whisper.

--------

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[ckret2]

Chapter 55 of human Bill Cipher finally having a little fun for the first time in over a month of captivity in the Mystery Shack:

Bill does his level best to teach Mabel everything he knows about everything as fast as possible (while Ford eavesdrops). In the process, he finally reveals something about his home dimension!

But not everything about his dimension.

"Did you have rainbows in Flatworld?" Mabel had started drawing her shapesona again at the bottom of a fresh piece of paper. The heart was holding out one hand with several strips of glue shooting in a beam out from the palm; Mabel started shaking glitter onto the glue strips to make them rainbow.

"Not natural ones."

"Awww!"

"We could make them with flashlights and prisms, though."

"That's something." Still, it wasn't as cool as a real rainbow. She started carefully drawing Bill floating above her shapesona. (She probably should have drawn him before she put down glitter. She had to push up her sleeve and lift her wrist to avoid smearing the glue.) "When's the first time you saw a real rainbow?"

Bill didn't answer.

Mabel glanced at him. He had a hard look in his eyes. "Bill?"

####

For the first time in his life, the triangle was up—up but not north—in space, in the third dimension, looking down but not south at the plane where he'd spent his entire existence. It shuddered and rippled and cracked, contracting, as the entire universe crunched together around him.

Great walls of pale blue flame half a googol light years wide erupted into third dimensional space, where stars were caught and crushed between the quickly collapsing cosmic tectonic plates. He hadn't known his flat universe had stars of its own.

His home world shattered and crumbled, shrapnel and rubble spraying out, stone instantly pulverized into dust. Distant oceans rode the waves of the convulsing universe, flinging billions of gallons of water into space in a fine thin spray, glittering in the sunlight.

As the triangle watched, a great flickering rainbow ring formed in front of the ejected ocean, like the hollow eye of a hostile god staring at him in judgment.

He stared back.

And he felt himself fill with more and more and more power.

####

"Bill?"

"Sorry, I was trying to remember!" Bill sat back, laced his hands behind his head, and shrugged, "It's not coming to me. But I'm sure it was after I took charge of Dimension Zero. From time to time planets with weather systems would fall in through a wormhole, I must've seen a rainbow on one of them!"

"Oh." The answer disappointed her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. She puzzled over it as she drew a fireball shape around Bill's hands in glue and shook on pale blue glitter.

Bill nodded at the page, "So what are we up to?"

"Fighting evil! With rainbow lasers and... whatever that magic fire thing you do is!"

"Hey, superheroes! Sounds fun. Who are we killing?"

"Superheroes don't kill people!"

"Fine. Who are we sending to the hospital with third degree burns?"

"I don't know, I haven't made up a villain yet." She almost asked Bill what kind of monsters existed in his world; but the question died in her throat. That might be too depressing a question. She added a heart-shaped glue outline around her shapesona and shook on a glitter rainbow, and set the picture aside to dry. She grabbed a fresh paper and tried to imagine what a two-dimensional butterfly would look like. Would it just have flat little stick wings since that was more aerodynamic? That sounded boring. She started drawing a two-dimensional squid instead.

Bill studied Mabel's latest finished work—the glitter-outlined heart, the glitter rainbow laser, the glitter fire, and the plain him. After a moment, he casually mentioned, "I used to wear body glitter."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"Earlier you asked me about glitter in my dimension," Bill said. "Body paint was makeup to us. I wore it when I went dancing."

"WHAT!"

"And I'd cut open glow sticks to paint my arms and legs!"

"What color glitter did you wear?!"

"Usually gold."

"What?! Bill!" Mabel laughed. "You're already yellow!"

"But I didn't glitter. That's important!"

"You're boring."

"Shut up! I was gorgeous and I knew it! Why mess with perfection?!" He gestured down at himself, perfection, as though he'd momentarily forgotten what body he was in. "Listen, club fashion gets repetitive. If you've seen one equilateral in cutesy primary color gradients, you've see 'em all. There's beauty in simplicity—not a lot of shapes can pull off a solid color with a little light highlighting and still look flashy!" He'd sat up straighter, chest puffed out proudly, as he talked about how pretty he thought he'd been. "Buuut sure, sometimes I highlighted my points for fun. And to keep from stabbing people—it's hard for other people to judge distances with strobe lights on."

"What colors."

"Usually red, blue, or purple. You know—nice contrasts with gold."

Mabel grabbed another paper and started drawing Bill dancing. He leaned closer, elbows on the table, watching with more interest now. Mabel asked, "You had clubs with strobe lights?"

"Of course we did, we aren't barbarians." Bill picked up yellow and black markers out of Mabel's supplies, leaned over to her drawing in progress, and started adding a decorative border around the nearest edge of the paper in dots and dashes.

"What kind of music did you listen to?"

"It was... It's closest to the music in— You've never been to that dimension. Well, it kind of sounds like... I'll never hit those notes with human vocal cords." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Hold on. Let me get Questiony's piano."

####

It turned out that Flatworld club music sounded kind of like a broken tornado siren.

"It doesn't sound very good on a human piano," Bill said, giving the electric piano balanced on his knees a disapproving look. "The intervals between notes are tuned wrong, it's about four octaves short, and it's missing that tympanic membrane shredding tremolo when the treble jumps."

Mabel regarded the piano with some dismay. "Do you know how to play anything else?"

Bill sighed.

He played "Don't Start Un-Believing" for her. He even did that cool thing where you drag a finger up half the keyboard at once.

####

By now, Bill seemed a lot happier to answer Mabel's questions about his world; but she quickly worked out which ones he'd actually give a direct answer. He was the most free with science-y questions, hit or miss on the fun cultural questions, and instantly evasive when asked about his own life or uncomfortable political issues.

When she asked if shapes and their houses just kinda floated unattached to anything because they didn't have a home planet, Bill said they did have a home planet—hundreds of miles below, marking south by its gravitational pull—and they lived in the sky in between their planet and its rings. When she asked what kind of clothing they wore, Bill said they usually didn't wear anything, unless it was for practical purposes (gloves for gardening; goggles for chemistry; elbow-, knee-, and corner-pads for spelunking), and when she asked about his top hat he said slyly, "You mean my telescope?" and gleefully refused to explain further.

But when she asked if it was true that equilateral triangles were the lowest rung you could stand on before getting knocked off the social ladder altogether, Bill said that was a pretty rude question to ask a triangle. And then he said his world didn't have ladders.

When he casually let slip that he'd been able to see the third dimension when nobody else could, she asked how that was possible. He'd paused, looked up from his seventh completely incomprehensible drawing of an animal (she'd asked him whether Flatworlders had pets), and, with an eager gleam in his eye, he asked, "How much time do you have?"

####

Ford heard Bill's voice the moment he opened the door—"All right, star girl, pop quiz, let's see how much of that you kept in your noggin."

"Oh, I'm so ready!"

Baffled, Ford leaned in the living room doorway. The room was absolutely plastered in crayon-covered papers—illustrations, lists, mathematical and scientific diagrams—stars, cells, planets, vehicles. At the moment Bill was pointing at six papers taped together with a diagram on them that Ford thought was a Punnett square that had been expanded into a four-dimensional tessaract. "A polygon's sides are determined by...?"

"Genetic inheritance!" Mabel announced, the proud student who knew all the answers. "You have however many sides your parents have genes for!"

"And the idea that polygons increase by one side each generation...?"

"Is propaganda! Because if everybody hides their kids without enough sides, and they only talk about the kids that did go up a side, it makes everyone think that's what always happens and their family is the only one that's failing!"

"Perfect! And the highest natural amount of sides a shape can have?"

"Twelve! Decadoggins!"

"Close enough, dodecagons! But this isn't Greek class, I'll give you full points. So, any shapes with more sides than that got them through—?"

"Random mutation!"

"Correctamundo! Meaning the only way to get shapes with hundreds of sides is..."

"Crazy bonkers inbreeding! Because the same rich families just keep marrying each other!"

"With consequences including—?"

"Um..." Mabel puffed out her cheeks as she thought. "Skeletons getting all crackly, having a hard time making babies, and high—uh—infant morality!"

"Mortality."

"Lots of dead babies."

"Yes! And remember: when a mutation makes a body produce so much more of something than it needs that it starts harming the body, that's called...?"

"Cancer!"

"Meaning circles are...?"

"Tumors!"

"And what do we do with tumors?"

"EXECUTE THEM!"

"YES!" Bill ripped the Punnett tesseract off the wall. Behind it was a piece of paper that read, in blood red crayon, ANTI-MONARCHIST ANARCISM. "You're ready to man the guillotines! A+, star girl! Give yourself another sticker!"

"Yes!" Mabel peeled a sparkly purple star off a sticker sheet and stuck it on her cheek. Her face had over twenty star stickers.

Ford leaned against the living room doorframe, watching the scene inside with wonder. He was more than a little iffy about the political lesson—he, personally, was incredibly opposed to the idea that it was morally imperative to execute anybody with extra body parts, nobility or not—but the presentation of it was certainly captivating. It had been a long time since Ford had seen Bill like this. (It had been a long time since Ford would have trusted any lesson out of Bill's mouth.)

"Now let's get back to biangles." Bill picked up a fake crystal ball that he'd drawn various lines and shapes on with a marker.

"Awww, again?!"

"Hey. Listen," he said firmly. "I believe in you. You'll get it this time, I know it."

Ford looked around the room, taking in the scene more fully. The floor was scattered with drawings of aliens. A few of them were various polygons—regular and irregular, with the irregularities further broken down by whether they otherwise showed radial or lateral symmetry—each with thin limbs and an eye on a corner. Most were fantastical alien animals, a few that Ford had seen or been warned about on other worlds. Some had been scribbled out and redrawn when Bill's limited artistic capabilities didn't live up to his unknown standards; a few were in Mabel's art style, meaning Bill must have described them to her while she drew.

Twenty pieces of paper had been taped together on the wall behind the TV, with a drawing of a planet surrounded by a circular ring of small blobs—a planetary ring?—and a moon further out. The empty atmosphere between the planet and the ring was filled with squares and rectangles, which were grouped together in red blobby circles that were each labeled by letter: "Country △," "Country B," "Country C," "Country D (communists)," etc. A badly-drawn sea serpent slithered along the outside of the ring with the words "Here There Be Monsters" written over it.

A tall column of taped together papers was covered in examples of alien writing systems—some of them Ford recognized from his travels through other dimensions. From the ones he understood, it looked like the words were demonstrations of Mabel's name in dozens of alien writing systems. Sometimes Bill spelled her name Maybell or Mabelle.

And there were so many papers scattered around the room with little graphs and symbols and arrows Ford couldn't make sense of. And in the center of it all, Bill, alive, energetic, his full attention enthusiastically focused on his student.

Bill had to be up to something; but Ford couldn't imagine what, based on the bizarre assemblage of information in front of him. What nefarious purpose could be behind showing Mabel how to spell her name in alien languages? Unless his goal was to so enchant her with tales of other worlds that he could persuade her to help him open a new portal...? No, even for Bill that felt like a stretch. 

He looked at the wall again. Surely, that wasn't Bill's homeworld. Ford had spent years of his life trying to find the world Bill was from; surely Bill hadn't just drawn it in the middle of Ford's living room. Had he?

"Okay, let's start with spherical geometry from the top," Bill said, polishing the crystal ball on his leggings to rub off the marker lines. "Don't tell anyone I can do this." He held up the ball, tapped it twice on the bottom, and it hovered in place when he let it go, freeing up both his hands to hold a ruler and marker. (How long had he been able to do that? Had he even noticed Ford was standing right outside?) He drew a line across the surface of the ball, "Pretend it's a planet. If you draw a line on a sphere, it's obviously curved, right?"

"Right," Mabel said.

"But now pretend you're on the planet. The surface of the world is a flat plane to you. From your perspective, you can walk in a straight line from point A to point B."

"But it's actually a curve. From space."

"Now you're catching on. That's what makes spherical geometry a little weird: when you're on the sphere you treat everything around you like it's 2D even though when you're off the sphere you can see it's 3D." Why in the world was Bill teaching Mabel about spherical geometry?

Bill drew two more lines to connect to the first. "So! You can draw a triangle on a sphere, no problem, right?"

"Right."

"And something you can only do in spherical geometry... is... pretend this is the North Pole and the South Pole..." Bill carefully rotated the ball under his marker as he drew a straight line from one "pole" to the other, and then drew a second straight line from pole to pole next to it. "Ta-da! If a tri-angle has three angles, a bi-angle has two angles. You've got yourself a two-sided polygon. Right?"

Mabel hesitated. "Right."

"You with me so far, Shooting Star?"

"So far," she said, with a tone that suggested she expected that to change very soon.

"But if you try to transfer that shape from spherical geometry to Euclidean geometry—" Bill turned to an expanse of still partially-uncovered white papers taped to the wall like a makeshift whiteboard, drew two points, and drew two straight lines, red and blue, between the points, "—it just doesn't work. You can't see a biangle in a flat world."

And now Mabel was squinting suspiciously at him.

Bill said, "I lost you."

"But where does it go!"

Bill shrugged. "You lost it when you lost the third dimension."

"But you said when you're on the sphere it's two dimensional!"

"From your perspective it's two dimensional, but there's still a third dimension enabling the sphere to exist."

"Then from my perspective when I'm on the planet shouldn't a biangle look like that?" Mabel pointed at the two straight lines on the piece of paper. "Since everything looks all 2D to me? But it doesn't! It's like flying from the North Pole to the South Pole through America and then flying back through China! China and America don't just squish together into the same place just because you're going in a straight line on a sphere!"

"I'd kill to hear you give a geography lesson to a Flat Earther convention."

Mabel gave him her best angry scowl.

"It was a compliment! I think you'd inspire some hilarious arguments, that's all!" Bill put two dots on the paper and offered Mabel the marker. "Look, try it for yourself! Draw a biangle."

Mabel took the marker and, after a moment of thought, drew two curved lines between the points, making a football shape.

"Those aren't straight lines, kid."

"Argh!" Mabel pulled the paper off the wallpaper, bent it into a curve, and shakily drew a straight line between the two points; but no matter how else she twisted or bent the paper, she couldn't find a path that would let her draw a second straight line between the points without overlapping the first line she'd drawn. She crumpled the paper, tossed it on the floor, and whispered, "It's witchcraft, Bill."

He burst out laughing. "I could name a few horror writers that felt the same way about non-Euclidean geometry."

"But whyyy does the biangle disappear when it goes from a sphere to normal flat paper."

"Because..." Bill groped for an explanation he hadn't already tried. He crossed an arm across his chest and tapped a knuckle just under the bow tied in his hoodie's draw strings the way some humans might tap a hand to their chin, his eyes narrowed in thought. How many times had Ford seen him make that exact same face in his true triangular form, whenever Ford was struggling to understand a lesson on portal physics and Bill was struggling to find a way to translate it into concepts Ford had encountered in his human education? "Let's try this another way."

The scene made Ford ache.

Look past the paper and the crayons, and the graph- and figure- and writing-covered walls looked so much like the advanced physics lessons and blueprints that Bill had coated Ford's starry blue dreamscape in during his sleep. Look past the flesh and bone, and Bill moved and gestured and spoke the way he had when he was teaching Ford how to build a bridge between worlds.

It was the first time since Bill's death that Ford had seen 100% of his personality shining—unhindered by grief, secrets, or a disdainful human audience. It was the first time in decades that Ford had seen Bill at his best.

In that moment, for a split second, Ford forgot how to hate Bill. He couldn't see Bill the traitor, Bill the invader, Bill the homicidal party animal. The only person in that room with Mabel was Bill Cipher the Teacher, Mentor, and Muse that Ford used to know so long ago. Like an ancient god who'd chosen to spend a day roleplaying as a giddy professor—Bill was holding back a tsunami's worth of vast, ancient, unintelligible alien knowledge so that he could drip out revelations at a faucet's pace, slow enough for his student to catch each drop in her hands.

Over thirty years ago, there had been moments when this Bill peeked out behind the above-it-all façade—and that had been the Bill that Ford was happiest to see, the Bill that Ford had thought of as a friend rather than a mere teacher... but each time, it hadn't been long before Bill seemly caught himself and turned off the faucet for the night.

Because he couldn't let Ford learn too much, or he would have seen through Bill's ruse.

Hatred tiredly crept back in.

"I've got it!" Mabel triumphantly flung her hands in the air. "It's like orange slices!"

"Orange slices?" Bill repeated.

"Be right back!" Mabel zoomed to the kitchen, shouting, "Hi Grunkle Ford!" as she passed.

Ford watched her go, then looked back at Bill; Bill had glanced at him for the first time. But all he did was frown and mutter, "I don't remember inviting you to audit this course."

Before Ford could decide whether to retort, Mabel charged back into the living room with an orange and a sharp knife. "Okay! If you draw a triangle on the orange," Mabel said, doing so with a marker, before cutting into it with the knife, "and then you—you cut it out all the way to the center..."

"Be careful with that," Ford said. Mabel was holding the orange in one palm and stabbing into it from the opposite side.

Bill said, "Lay off, Six Fingers. I'm keeping my eye on her, she's not gonna hurt herself."

"I'm being careful!" Mabel was struggling to get an even wedge cut all the way to the center of the orange; she eventually gave up and  dug into the orange with her fingertips to tug out a messy mangled handful of fruit, attached to a roughly equilateral patch of orange peel about two inches to each side. She shook orange juice off her fingers. "Pretend I cut that out better."

"I dunno what you're talking about," Bill said. "It looks flawless."

She pointed at each corner of the peel triangle. "Okay so, these are the three corners of the spherical triangle, right?"

"Right."

"And if you want to make a regular flat triangle, you can... try to cut a straight line between the corners, like..." She squeezed the rest of the orange between her knees, held the edges of the triangular peel with her fingertips, and sawed off the orange pulp underneath, trying to cut a flat level plane as near to the triangle's corners as she could. Ford almost warned Mabel about the knife again, but glanced at Bill's face and his expression of unworried, keen curiosity, and kept quiet. Bill reached out and caught the sawed-off chunk of orange pulp before it hit the ground.

Mabel held out the peel slice. "There! Right? Spherical triangle on top and flat triangle on the bottom!"

Bill considered that, one hand on his hip. He popped the orange chunk in his mouth. "All right. So far so good."

"But if you make a biangle..." Mabel drew two lines between the top and bottom of the remaining orange, and cut a wedge free. "There isn't anything extra to cut off to let you make a flat shape. There's just a straight line between the two points!"

"Ha! Okay, all right, that works! Brilliant! What do you need me for? You just taught yourself the whole lesson!" Bill ruffled her hair so enthusiastically that he knocked her headband askew.

She shoved him away, laughing, and straightened out her headband. "Bill!"

"What did I say! Didn't I tell you you'd get it?" Bill was beaming at her, impressed, delighted, proud. "Congratulations, you've just mastered college-level geometry."

"Wh—What? Are you serious? This is college stuff?" She shook her head. "No way, you're lying."

Bill pointed at Ford without looking at him. "Tell her."

He felt a little like a dog being commanded to bark; but he said, "He's right. I didn't start studying spherical geometry until my second semester in college." He was sure he could have studied it sooner, if his high school had offered it; and he doubted Mabel had absorbed an entire semester's worth of spherical geometry; but he didn't see any reason to point any of that out when Mabel's face lit up in excitement.

Bill said, "There you have it! Way to go, star girl! Two big stickers."

"YES!" Mabel peeled off two jumbo-sized star stickers with smiley faces and stuck them onto her earrings. "So does that make a biangle a girl or a boy?"

And Ford was immediately lost again.

"No," Bill said.

Mabel sighed loudly and tried again. "Does that make a biangle a line or a polygon?"

"Still no, but for a different reason. Externally, they look like lines to anyone who isn't psychic. Internally, their anatomy usually functions like a polygon's. But socially, you've gotta ask. Some of 'em consider themselves lines, some polygons, some claim biangularity is neither linear nor polygonal. Personally, I say they're whatever they say they are. Because," he said grandly, "I'm just that open-minded and accepting."

Ford stifled a derisive snort. But Bill's self-aggrandizing aside, Ford's mind was reeling trying to keep up—spherical geometry, the (gendered?) socialization of shapes, Flatworlder anatomy—what did psychics have to do with anything? Ford's fingers itched for a pen. He wished he had his journal with him.

Bill grabbed several papers off the floor and the floating crystal ball and climbed on top of the wooden TV cabinet. He left the ball hovering behind him seven feet up in the air, tossed aside several papers he'd already used both sides of to let them flutter back to the floor, and taped the rest to the wall with their blank backsides turned out. "Now back to remote viewing." He drew a grid in blue lines on the papers, said, "Toss me that triangle wedge," used a marker to draw an eye on the triangular orange peel, tapped it twice like he had the crystal ball, and stuck it against the grid, where it sat unmoving.

And the entire time, Ford watched with his arms crossed tightly.

Almost a month ago, Bill had given Ford his manipulative trap of a birthday gift, a miniature grimoire, five pieces of paper, margins filled, two rows of text per line, packed with as diverse an array of magical spells and occult knowledge as Bill could fit. It wasn't a gift, it was a boast and a taunt: look at everything I know that you don't; look at what I could teach you if you let me live. 

It was something Bill could have given him all along—effortlessly, with no cost to himself—but didn't, until Bill wanted something from him. 

On his birthday, Ford had wondered, furiously: when this was what Bill could have been—gift-giver, wish-granter, teacher, guide, friend—why did he choose not to be?! It was an internal scream of rage, the howl of a wounded victim at the condemned criminal as he was marched to the gallows: you monster, you monster, you monster, when it would have been so easy for you to be something better, why instead are you a liar, manipulator, torturer, murderer, life-ruiner, world-ender? Answer for yourself: why are you this instead of someone better? How dare you?

It had made Ford want him dead even more.

This was the exact opposite of the grimoire.

The question in Ford's head wasn't a scream of rage anymore. It was grief. It was a plea. It was one last desperate attempt to understand:

Instead of being who he was, why couldn't Bill have been this person? This charismatic, energetic, ecstatic muse who ruled like a king over a classroom he'd constructed himself, eager to share a trillion years of collected wisdom with a fragile mortal mind, lighting up with joy whenever she grasped something that was trivially simple to him? This guide to the vast wonders beyond Earth, competent and encouraging and funny, delighting in the weirdness of the wide wide universe? The Bill that Ford had once liked so much—the Bill that he'd called his friend?

"Okay," Bill said, all sunshine and excitement, "Back to how to view the third dimension from the second dimension—"

Mabel said, "Can you view the fourth dimension from the third?"

Bill hesitated a split second, but said, "Sure! You can view any dimension from any dimension! You've just gotta bend your eye the right way to see higher ones!"

"What does the fourth dimension look like?"

"Well—hm. Imagine the way that the third dimension looks different from the second, and that's the way the fourth dimension looks different from the third."

Mabel stared at Bill.

"Eddie wrote an entire book about a square meeting a sphere because that was the closest he could get to telling other humans what seeing the fourth dimension is like! If I could still visit dreams, I could just show you, but..."

"Isn't the fourth dimension time? Blendo showed us the time stream! Is that what it looks like?"

"Nnn—close! You're close. The fourth dimension isn't time, but time is in the fourth dimension."

"How's that different."

Bill pointed at the floor. "If the carpet's the second dimension and the lamp's shining on it, the third dimension isn't light, but light is in the third dimension."

"Ohhh." Mabel gasped. "That's why you called some weird thing flying around in a higher dimension an eclipse! Because eclipses were in a higher dimension in Flatworld!"

Bill's face lit up in surprised delight. "All right, skip three lessons ahead, why don't you! In a week's time you'll be teaching people how my dimension works." He turned back to his papers and started drawing a branching river. "So! That time stream you saw isn't time itself! It's a visual metaphor being generated so humans can see time too—sort of a hologram projecting from the fourth dimension into the third—have I explained that the universe is a hologram yet—"

Why weren't you this person, Ford wondered. Why did you choose not to be this person? When it was so easy for you to be this? When this made you happy, too?

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why are you only like this now, when you're about to die?

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed Infodump: The Chapter. This is one of those chapters with something hidden in it that'll unravel the whole fic if you happen to find it, so have fun searching for that. Let me know what you thought of this week's chapter! And get excited—we've got Big Things coming up... soon.)