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aperrywilliams · 3 days ago

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Tin Wedding (Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Event Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x ExWife!Reader.

Summary: You've become friends with Penelope Garcia over the past year, and after much insistence from her, you agreed to visit her at her office one day. What you didn't expect was to run into your ex-husband there. And surely you didn't expect that he - Spencer Reid - is Penelope's coworker.

Word Count: 7.2k (please, stop me!)

Warnings: Yes. I set this one as +16. Mention of Reader being drunk. Curses and some strong words. Mention of sex - oral (m&f). Nothing detailed. IDFK anything about the US marriage and divorce system.

A/N: 2nd Fic for the "We are not gonna make it" writing challenge I was hosting during October with my sis @babymetaldoll. I'm so sorry for the delay, but life has crushed me these past weeks.

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The ding of the elevator signals you are already on the sixth floor. The doors open, and the first thing you see are people going and coming. It's the bustling of a lively office at noon. But this is not just any office; this is the FBI headquarters in Quantico. You never thought you would be in a place like this in your life, but here you are after your friend Penelope convinced you to visit her at work after insisting for weeks.

BAU - Behavioural Analysis Unit reads the glass doors in front of you. This is the place. Looking at the scattered desks on the open floor, you look for a clue that leads you to Penelope.

People walk past you without paying much attention. Maybe you should ask for help. But before you can decide to do so, a voice behind your back breaks you out of your thoughts.

"Can I help you?"

You know that voice. You're sure of that. But wait. It can't be—not after years of not hearing it.

You slowly turn around just to confirm that your suspicions are correct. Standing in front of you is a curious Spencer Reid, who pales when he sees your face. He remembers you, too.

"Oh God, Spencer?"

A stupid question with an obvious answer, but that doesn't take away the surprise of coming face to face with someone you never thought you'd see again in your life.

"(Y/N)? Wow..."

Time has passed, you tell yourself. Spencer looks more grown up. His hair is a little shorter, and he doesn't look so skinny anymore; it even seems there's some muscle under the white shirt he sports. Some stubble adorns his face, and dark circles can be seen under his eyes. But his beautiful eyes are the same as you remember them from when you first met in Pasadena.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, still shocked. Spencer's expression seems pretty much the same as yours.

"Uh. Well, I work here," he explains after clearing his throat.

A Caltech's genius working with the FBI? You wouldn't have expected it. But then again, you didn't expect to cross paths with him after all this time. "And what are you doing here?"

Good point. Why did you come? Oh, yes. Penelope Garcia.

"I'm here to see a friend," you mumble. Spencer's confused look changes to what? Disappointment? Of course, you're not there for him. It's stupid ever to think that, considering you haven't talked since the day you said goodbye and parted ways in that tiny apartment you shared in Pasadena.

And then an awkward silence. What are the chances that after so long, you were going to meet Spencer? And if you're wondering how long, we're talking about ten years when you were both pursuing your degrees at Caltech. In your case, it was the first one because Spencer was already in his third PhD when you met.

Before you can say something else, the one and only Penelope Garcia burst into the room, looking for you.

"There you are! Why didn't you call me when you got here?"

Totally unbeknown to the tense silence, she steps in front of you and hugs you. You can feel Spencer's confused look on you. "I'm glad you made it! We have so much to talk about."

"Garcia is your friend?" Spencer asks, gaze on you, and it's when you realize how weird the situation is. Penelope turns to him, an eyebrow furrowed.

"Of course, I'm her friend. And she came to see me," Garcia scoffs until she realizes something. "Wait a minute. For what reason would you ask that?"

Spencer clears his throat. He doesn't know what your opinion is about people knowing that fact.

"We know each other," you explain to her before asking. "How do you know Spencer?"

"No way! What a coincidence!" Garcia chirps. The exclamation raises the interest of the people entering the bullpen. Some of them approach to where you all are. "Reid? We work together!"

What were the chances of something like that happening to you, you wondered, as Spencer continued to stare at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"What's happening here, baby girl?" A toned man asks Garcia, who can't contain her excitement.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," she announces as two women join the conversation.

Garcia briefly explains to the audience who you are and that she just found out that you both know Spencer, too. After the first impression, she proceeds to introduce you to those there: Derek, JJ, and Emily. From the corner of your eye, you can see Spencer downcasting his look at their curious glances at him.

"So you guys know each other?" JJ asks.

You both nod at the same time as Spencer mutters, "Caltech."

"Ah, fellow grads," JJ assumes. And in part, she is right. Indeed, you met while you were starting your master's degree and subsequent doctorate in the same area as Spencer.

"Kind of," you admit, seeing Spencer's cheeks flush and feeling yours burn too. The guy who was presented as Derek Morgan has a smirk plastered on his face.

"College sweethearts?" Morgan asks in a teasing tone. And he is kind of right, too. You lock eyes with Spencer, and you can't tell if he did or wants to say to his colleagues what you really were at that time. But before you both can even think of saying anything, Garcia's eyes widen in recognition.

"No! Wait a minute! Did you go to college together? You said the other day that you-" she starts connecting information, and you start to freak out internally. Before you can stop her, Garcia blurts. "Oh! Spencer is your ex-husband? You have to be kidding me!"

Shit. How did she figure it out so quickly? Sure, it might be your fault for sharing details about your college love life with her on a night filled with alcohol, but how could you have known she was already acquainted with him? You were careful not to mention any names or specifics, yet here you are.

"Wait, what?" Morgan's smirk turns to jaw slack in astonishment. There is no difference between JJ's and Emily's reactions. Spencer's face is flushed, and so is yours.

"Someone is going to say anything?" Emily asks, bouncing her eyes between you and Spencer.

"Uh, well—" you start, giving Spencer an apologetic look, who returns you an awkward tight-lip smile.

"Yeah. We were married," he confirms.

"When we were at college," you add.

You can feel the heaviness in the air and the mid-surprised, mid-incredulous looks from the people around you. Morgan is the first to break the silence.

"Damn it, pretty boy. What a story you had hidden from us," he says, patting Spencer's shoulder. JJ - the quietest one until now - senses how uncomfortable you and Spencer are with all the attention.

"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?"

After a moment of consideration, Emily seconds the motion. "Yeah, Morgan, would you help me with something?"

"Su- sure," Morgan agrees, still confused but following Emily nonetheless.

"But—" Penelope is still trying to understand the whole situation and has many questions she wants to ask.

"Come on, Garcia. I'm sure (Y/N) will find you when she is ready," JJ encourages, looking at you. That's when you get out of your daze and nod.

"Yes. Yeah. I'll text you, Penelope."

And just like that, the same way people surrounded you just seconds ago, now it's just you, Spencer, and an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you worked here. I didn't know you were Penelope's coworker, and—" you start to apologize.

"No. Don't. It's not your fault," Spencer rushes to speak.

"I shouldn't have told her about - about," you trail off.

"About you having an ex-husband?" Spencer supplies, and you shyly nod.

"Believe me, it's not a thing I tell everyone I meet, but Penelope, well, she-" you try to find the right words. Spencer nods in understanding.

"Yeah, she can be pretty convincing when she wants to know something."

Another halo of silence passes between you until it's Spencer who breaks it this time.

"So, how have you been? I mean, it's been a while." You nod, still uncomfortable with the situation but just as curious as you assume Spencer is.

"Yeah, it's been a while," you confirm. "Good, all good on my end. Working and living. What about you?"

"Me? Good. Working here at the BAU."

"Cool."

Cool? What does that mean?

A sharp 'Reid' is heard from behind you both, making you turn to the source. A well-dressed man with a serious gaze is looking at Spencer from an office threshold. "Can you come, please?" the man adds. Spencer nods quickly. "Sure. I'll be there in a second, Hotch." The answer seems to satisfy the man, so he nods and returns inside.

Spencer turns to you again. "Uh. I - uh-" he stutters, motioning where the man called Hotch was a second ago.

"Yeah. I have to go, too." You have to, actually, but you don't think you can face Penelope or anyone else right now, for that matter. "It was nice to see you." As you are about to run away subtly, Spencer calls your name. Stopping in your tracks, you turn, and your eyes make contact with his again.

"Would you - uh. Would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?"

It catches you off guard, but you only assume he's being polite. You think you should return the gesture.

"Sure. Why not," you say, giving him a little smile. "Now I have to go. Bye, Spencer."

And with that, you resume your escape to the elevator.

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From the moment he saw you at the BAU, Spencer has never been the same. He never imagined he would see you again, especially under those circumstances. Spencer was so astonished he wasn't even able to start a decent conversation or even ask for your number after inviting you to a coffee.

Also distressed about the interrogation he knew his colleagues would subject to him, Spencer wanders through the BAU halls as if he were not in the present. And, in fact, he is not. After seeing you, he has only been able to think about you and the years you both spent in Pasadena.

A smile tugs the corners of his mouth every time one of those memories comes to him.

"Okay, pretty boy, spill," Derek prompts when he sees Spencer in the kitchen two days after your encounter.

"Uh? What are you talking about?" he turns, confused, to see Derek looking at him with a frown and arms over his chest.

"Come on! You know what I'm talking about. About the pretty lady, Garcia's friend, who happens to be your ex-wife?"

Spencer huffs through his nostrils.

"I already told you. We met in college, and we were together until we graduated," Spencer says nonchalantly as if it's normal. He tries, at least. Morgan scoffs at his attempt.

"Reid. You married her. You just can't tell me you 'were together' as you're talking about any other relationship. She was important; what happened?"

Morgan remembers well a few years ago when Spencer told him about a great love he had while at Caltech and how, from time to time, those memories would come to plague his head. It wasn't hard for Morgan to connect the dots and assume you were the person Spencer was referring to.

Spencer sighs thoughtfully. "We ended it by mutual agreement. We both knew our career paths were going to be incompatible, and we both had so many dreams to fulfill. Our greatest act of love was letting each other go. At least that's how I saw it for a long time."

"But you regretted it at some point," Morgan adds, and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you try to find her then?"

"I didn't want to be selfish. What if she already had her life going perfectly, and I was just going to show like a kicked puppy? It wasn't fair for her."

"Man, I get it, but what about now? You found each other again. Can it be a kind of sign or something." Spencer glances at Derek with an incredulous look.

"Are you listening to yourself? You sound like Garcia," Spencer grumbles, making Derek laugh.

"Yeah. Definitely, it's something my baby girl would say. But, truly speaking, Reid, why not take a chance?"

Spencer huffs in frustration. "I - I don't know anything about her in these years! I didn't even ask for her number that day. I was frozen on the spot!"

"And that will stop you?"

A satisfactory smirk appears on Derek's face when Spencer stays silent, contemplating his options.

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Not wanting to talk about the encounter with anyone, you write to Penelope, apologizing for having to leave suddenly that day. She responds everything is fine and doesn't even ask you why, to which you are tremendously grateful.

But as the days pass by, you know you have to talk to her at some point, so you invite her to come over one afternoon.

You have been thinking a lot and rationalizing everything that happened. Of course, there was always a possibility of crossing paths with Spencer someday, but turning it into reality is different. So you conclude all your nerves were out of the shock of something unprovable happening, not because seeing Spencer after ten years made you fall off your balance.

With that in mind, you were ready to talk to Penelope.

Once she gets to your apartment, you first apologize for leaving that day and explain how you got frozen after the unexpected encounter. Garcia tells you not to worry and even says she is sorry for telling everyone about her discovery without any filter.

"It's just- I was so impressed. I couldn't help it!" she explains, and you nod in understanding.

"It's okay. I guess no one expected something like that."

"Right? But I have to ask. How did Spencer Reid become your husband? I mean, you told me about your ex-husband and all, but I'm sorry, I can't picture Spencer even talking to a girl without stuttering, less asking for marriage, and then divorcing? It's beyond me."

It catches your attention how she talks about him. Although you met Spencer when you both were very young, knowing how shy he was, over time, you managed to beat his barrier and meet a wonderful man full of charisma and not so sheepish after all. Has he never shown that side to anyone else in all these years?

"Why so much interest in my marriage? It's been a decade," you ask Penelope, and her scoff sounds a mix of obvious and disbelief.

"Honey, it's unbelievable Doctor Loving Reid has kept THAT information to himself for so long. So now that it is out, it does pick my full interest. Spill. What happened?"

You shrug your shoulder. "It's like I said the first time I told you. We were young, a whole life ahead. Neither he nor I wanted to cut each other's wings."

"But you loved each other!" Penelope complains with an adorable pout. You have known this woman for what? Less than a year? And she seems brokenhearted about something that happened to you and Spencer ten years ago. She's right, though. You and Spencer were mad in love. Unlike what people have believed for years, your marriage was not a result of a wild night of alcohol and passion in Pasadena. You were both quite sober when you went to court that day. Both even had written down the vows you professed in front of the judge- yours on a piece of paper and Spencer in his brain, of course.

"If it's any consolation, the year we were married, we were very happy," you tell her, fondly remembering that time. Garcia rolls her eyes.

"Well, exactly that's what I mean, miss. If you were so happy, why end it like that?"

The only answer you can think of is 'it's complicated,' but that will surely increase her curiosity.

"We wanted the best for each other, even if it meant being apart. As good rational beings, we weighed our options, and the sensible thing to do was to end it."

Putting it in that way, Penelope can believe it. Having known Spencer for years, she knows for a fact his big brain is capable of analyzing every probability of every possible outcome. What seems incredible to her is how feelings - how love - can be rationalized like this.

A ding from your phone pauses your talk with Penelope. You glance at the device and see a text from an unknown caller.

'Hi. I'm Spencer. I stupidly didn't ask you for your number, so after cursing myself for the past few days, I had to find it out. Don't get mad, please. I would really like to grab a coffee with you if you are up to it. If you don't want to, I understand. And if you don't want me to contact you again, just say the words, and I'll stop. But I really hope you say yes. SR.'

Okay. This is unexpected. Indeed, you remember not having exchanged numbers with Spencer, and you didn't give it much thought either, assuming his invitation had been out of pure kindness. But here you are, reading the message and feeling an emotion you can't describe. Nostalgia, maybe?

You narrow your eyes to Garcia, who immediately suspects who sent you a text.

"Before you ask, I didn't give him your number!" she defends as you breathe a deep sigh.

"He's asking me out for coffee," you tell Garcia, and she can't help but squeal.

"Will you say yes?"

"I don't know. Is it a good idea to get back in touch after all these years?" you muse more for yourself than her.

"Honey, only you know what's best for you, but if you ask me, I remember you telling me after you both split up, you were left with a lot of 'what ifs' in your head, and some of them are still floating around. Maybe this could help clear them up once and for all."

Penelope has a point. But now, you have a dilemma in the form of a coffee invitation.

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It's just a coffee. Don't overthink it.

You have been telling yourself that for a while as you walk to the coffee shop where you agreed to meet Spencer today.

He is just being nice.

Sure, after ten years of no contact, this sudden encounter in the FBI - with all his colleagues there - maybe pressured him to invite you to grab a coffee.

Still lost in your thoughts, you don't realize you are already there. After taking a deep breath, you step inside and look around. You spot him in a booth in the corner, back to you. A smile tugs at your lips, remembering all the coffee dates you both had back then. It was your thing. Hours and hours talking about everything and anything until the owner asked you to leave because they needed to close.

"Hey," you greet, making Spencer look up to you.

"Hi," he returns, a smile plastered on his face. "Thanks for accepting my invitation," he gestures for you to sit.

"Sure. Why I wouldn't?" After taking off your coat, you sit in front of him in the booth.

"Yeah. I mean, we haven't talked in ten years. And then we see each other at my work, and- well, it's kind of weird, I guess?"

Weird is an understatement, you think.

"You are right. Kind of it is."

You notice there are two coffee cups on the table. Spencer follows your line of sight.

"Uh- I had ordered already," he points to the coffee in front of you. "I don't know if you have changed your order, though."

"Thanks," you mumble appreciatively. "I haven't changed it, actually."

"Great!"

You try to gauge his expression. Is he nervous? Anxious? Because you are.

"Spencer, if you are uncomfortable, we can just go home. There is no—" You can't finish the sentence before Spencer cuts you off.

"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't think that."

"Okay," you concede. "I won't. But you need to be honest with me, okay?"

"Of course," Spencer agrees.

"You felt obligated to invite me here after what happened?" You bluntly ask, and Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No, of course not," Spencer immediately denies. "I really wanted to see you. It's just that-" he hesitates. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "I just didn't know if it was right, you know? I mean, we never reach out, and then it happens. We never agreed-" he trails off. And you know exactly what he's talking about.

Back then, when you decided to go separate ways, Spencer asked you what would happen if you met again in the future, and you shook your head, saying it probably wouldn't happen. So yes, you never talked about the possibility, and Spencer understood he should never contact you, and so did you.

"I know. We didn't," you recognize, regret slipping in your voice. "I guess I didn't want to think about the possibility back then."

You two know there are things you left out and left unsaid the last night you were together in Pasadena, but you don't think it's a good idea to say them now—not when this is supposed to be a friendly reunion between exes.

"So, since when have you been working in DC?" Spencer asks after you tell him about your work career on the west side.

"Almost two years," you admit.

Two years living in the same city. Spencer wonders if Garcia hadn't met you, he would have ever seen you again.

Your professional career has certainly been prolific; Spencer can tell after the stories you have been recounting. Years of experience and important jobs, just as you had dreamed when you were in college. These are the same dreams you shared with Spencer during the nights of studying and those where there was everything else but studying.

"I thought you were going to pursue academics. When did the FBI happen?" you ask after saying it's enough of talking about yourself.

"I thought that too. And I did it for a while. Then I met Gideon. He - uh, he showed me what the BAU had been doing, and I knew it was my place to be."

Spencer fondly tells you about his early years working as a profiler and how much he has learned. It seems that, like you, he has found his professional calling.

Two hours and three coffees later, you are both laughing about the weird and funny things you have seen in the past years. It feels good, and much of the initial nervousness has dissipated. But there is one topic you both have actively avoided: romantic relationships.

You are curious about it, and Spencer is, too, but neither of you wants to be the one to mention it first. Spencer is who breaks first.

"Are we going to talk about - about that? I feel we have been dancing about the topic, but I don't know if you want to."

You can't help but snort out of being caught and for the subject itself. You are sure your almost nonexistent love life is enough to make anyone cry or laugh.

"I'm still that obvious?"

"You have your tells," Spencer shrugs. You raise an eyebrow.

"I have my tells? What about you, doctor? You have been bouncing your leg the same way you did the day you defended your engineering PhD dissertation."

Spencer's eyes widen. "You still remember that?"

The insinuation of you forgetting that day makes you scoff.

"Of course I do! I tried everything to try to calm your nerves. Do you remember what I did, and actually, it worked?" Spencer's cheeks redden because he remembers.

You won't tell the details, but you recall, as clear as the day, how you helped him to 'decompress.'

"Okay, okay. Guilty as charged."

"So, what do you want to know?" You ask, still not fully ready but resigned, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Are you with someone?" Spencer asks, and you gasp, feigning surprise.

"No beating around the bushes, uh?"

Spencer's cheeks flush, and he can't help it. "If it's out the line, you don't need to answer."

Seeing him flustered and biting his lower lip makes your heart do flip-flops. It's something you haven't felt in a long time—ten years, to be exact.

"If you had asked me a month ago, I should have said yes."

Indeed, you had a boyfriend until a month ago when his insistence on moving in with you was too much to handle, and his frustrated self decided to say a lot of awful things when you said no to him.

Some people would say you have commitment issues, and maybe you have. But in all honesty, until this day, there is no one you have felt secure enough to take that step.

It's ironic, considering you already have a marriage under your belt.

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbles.

"No. Don't be. It wasn't meant to be."

'Like I used to think about us,' you want to add, but you refrain. Instead, you explain in not much detail every failed relationship you have had. Spencer listens intently, his heart aching to think of how a part of you might have been broken with each failed relationship. He hasn't done any better, though.

"And that's all. As you can see, there is nothing too exciting to remark," you chuckle to lighten the mood. "Tell me about you. There is a Mrs. Reid waiting at home?"

Spencer snorts, shaking his head. "No. There's no Mrs. Reid. The only one who has held the title has been you," he says with a look that makes your breath hitch in your throat. What is it? Longing?

"Wow. I feel honored," you tease, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

Spencer tells you about the few relationships he's had over the years. In his own opinion, none of them are very meaningful. When you ask him why, he doesn't hesitate to answer. "This job not only consumes my time, but also a lot of me as a person. Not everyone understands that."

He would like to say no one has ever been so important as to make him doubt continuing to work in what he does. The only person who ever made him doubt was you. But instead of saying it, he prefers to end with a "I guess that's why no one has stayed."

Listening to him talk is like listening to yourself, trying to minimize the fact that professional success is possibly one of the main reasons why other parts of your personal life have never flourished.

It was your choice. You both decided to make it that way. But sometimes you wonder if...

"Do you think we made a mistake?"

Spencer's question gets you out of your thoughts.

You look at him, baffled. "What?"

"Do you think we shouldn't have broken up? That I shouldn't have left?"

You pondered his question for a second. It has to do with how you felt at that time? Or does it have to do with how you felt after or even now?

"Honestly? I don't know, Spencer." A resigned sigh leaves your lips. "I always wanted to think it was the right thing to do."

"You never regretted it?" He asks you, and you shrug, not knowing much to say. Instead, you opt to ask him the question back.

"Did you?"

"Yeah. I did," he admits. "Sometimes I still do."

A heavy silence settles between you. The admission that you both had doubts about the drastic decision you made almost ten years ago is difficult to take. It unfurls a whole new set of questions whose answers you are not sure you are ready to hear or say. But it's only fair he knows your truth as you know his now.

"For what is worth, me too. I regret it. More often than I would like to admit."

Spencer's heart starts to beat faster; breath hitches in his throat for a second.

He tentatively reaches out to rest his hand on yours. You watch the action and think you know what it means. His eyes are hopeful. Something you'd like to mirror in your own, but the uncertainty is there, and you can't help it.

"Spencer, no. Please, don't." You try to articulate but not take your hand away from his. "I wish I could tell you I'm willing to try- to try to make up for lost time, but I can't. Even though it may not seem like it, we're strangers to each other, and I'm not in a place to even think about- you know."

Spencer gives a little squeeze to your hand, nodding.

"I know. And I'm not asking you for us to redo our story and start from where we ended. No. But I would love to get to know you again and be your friend."

"Friends?" You ask, brows furrowed. He smiles.

"Yeah. First and foremost, you were always my best friend. My person. Even if we never get back together as a couple, and we don't have to, I don't want to lose you again."

You take a moment to think about his words. What would be the harm? You're at a stage in your life where you don't want to live thinking about those things you wish you had done and didn't. The things you might have done differently. Why not put reason aside for a moment and just be?

You squeeze his hand back, a sign of yes; you're willing to get to know the Spencer in front of you.

---------

Three months have passed since your conversation with Spencer at the coffee shop. You both agreed to reconnect as friends, which has led to many coffee meetings, lunches, dinners, movie nights, and walks in the park. And to say your heart feels full and happy would be an understatement. You've realized how much of the Spencer you met in Pasadena still exists, and the connection that once brought you together has revitalized and is stronger than ever.

Neither of you has wanted to rush things, and so far, you're both happy to be able to spend time together.

Spencer has also opened the door for you to the BAU team, which has been his family for eight years now. In addition to the bond you already had with Penelope, you now regularly attend the girls' night she hosts with JJ and Emily. You've also gotten to know Derek and Hotch better and understand why Spencer considers them like his older brother and father figure, respectively. You've also become a favorite of David Rossi, who doesn't take no for an answer every time he invites you to one of his dinners.

Like tonight, where you find yourself vividly chatting with the girls in a corner of Rossi's backyard.

"No way I could have passed Dynamics and Mechanics without Spencer," you acknowledge when you're talking about the most challenging subjects you had in college.

"It seems a very interesting topic," Emily jokes, not knowing what the hell you were talking about.

You giggle at the memory, cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"I still remember those afternoons Spencer spent trying to help me memorize the Euler–Lagrange equations and the Hamilton's principle. He made it interesting, if you know what I mean," you wink at them.

"I don't think I want to know," JJ muses. Emily snorts at the suggestion.

"Oh, I definitely want to know what that means," Penelope pipes. You chuckle.

"One night, he made me recite the whole equations with his head buried between my thighs," you confess with a mischievous look.

"Oh my God!" Garcia's jaw goes slack, and Emily's eyes widen in disbelief.

"You fucking kidding me!"

"Definitely, I didn't want to know that," JJ shakes her head.

"Well, I helped him with Applied Computer Science. He had to produce a code to operate a string of relational databases while I was on my knees su-"

"Okay! I get it!" Garcia cuts you off, with her hands in the air, as Emily laughs and JJ groans.

"You asked," you shrug, a smirk on your lips.

"Okay, okay. But hear me out. Since we are talking about college time, and honestly speaking, we all have had someone in college, more or less important, with whom to study or do other things," Emily prefaces, making you giggle. "But from that, to marry, and one year later to divorce? How do you get over something so intense like that?"

You have questioned yourself the same for years.

Looking past JJ's shoulder, you see Spencer talking with Morgan, beer in hand, and you can't help but feel the smile creeping on your face when he looks back and winks at you.

If anything, the past months have made you realize what you had back then with him was unique. But what you're having now? It is as unique as before and better.

"I don't think you get over it. And it's okay; you learn to appreciate it and value the chances life gives you after."

The girls follow your line of sight and share a knowing look. When they see Spencer approaching the group, they collectively decide to go inside the house for a new drink.

"All yours," Garcia whispers to Spencer before going in a bee-line with Emily and JJ.

"What was that?" Spencer asks you with a quirked eyebrow when the girls are out of sight.

You look at him, pretending not to understand.

"I assume they wanted a refill," you say with a shrug. Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And you don't? Do you want me to get you something?"

"No. I'm fine," you respond to his offer. "Besides, I think I've got my alcohol ration filled for the night."

"If you're done for the night, I can take you home if you want."

That's the Spencer you know, always concerned about your well-being and comfort. You shake your head.

"Not yet. Walk with me, though?" You ask, extending your hand for him to take. Without questioning reasons, Spencer nods and takes your hand. The two of you begin to walk towards the pool area, where the sound of the music coming from the house is less audible.

It's not unusual for you to hold hands now. You trust each other, and it's been an innocent way of showing affection. And while the tension of something more has been building, neither of you has wanted to take the next step yet.

When you stop in the pool deck, Spencer moves to stand in front of you, his free hand reaching to tilt your chin with his index so he can inspect your face for some kind of clue.

"Are you okay?"

You nod as your fingers, from your joined hands, absently play with his. A thorough smile tugs the corners of your mouth. Your eyes admiring Spencer's honey ones in the moonlight.

"More than okay," you admit. But Spencer knows there is more in your mind you're not saying.

"Yeah?"

"Yep." You're stretching this on purpose. A smirk plays on your face. Spencer knows what you are doing.

"Good." His voice is amused. This game was one you both used to play back then, testing each other's curiosity and seeing how long it took the other to demand an answer about what the other was thinking. Usually, you were the one who won since Spencer couldn't stand not knowing.

"Have you grown patient over the years, Dr. Reid?" You ask, entertained. Spencer's laughter fills you with a feeling you thought was dormant inside you, but he has managed to refloat.

Not wanting to prolong his torture, and because you don't have it in you to hold back any longer, you decide to speak.

"I know you remember, but can you tell me the first thing I said to you the day I met you?"

Spencer's eyes narrow in search of the moment you're referring to.

You were in the library, busily searching through the shelves for a book you couldn't find. Spencer could see the stress radiating off of you. After watching you for a few seconds, he decided to walk over to the shelf, and leaning down, he pulled a book from the top shelf before presenting it to you. "Maybe this is the one you're looking for?" And he was right. Your first thought was, 'How did I not see it before?' and then you realized the weirdest thing of all, 'how did he know which was the book you were looking for?' You didn't know the guy, and as far as you knew, he didn't know you either.

Seeing your confusion, he proceeded to explain. "It was an educated guess, seeing as you have Fuller's, Richmond's, and Helbert's there. I assumed you were in Thermodynamics 301 and didn't have Priest's."

Spencer laughs before trying to imitate your voice. "Can I buy you a coffee in appreciation and keep you in my purse for future reference?" You nod, smiling.

"Bold of me for asking that to a stranger, uh?"

"Bold of you for thinking I would ever refuse," Spencer says in a mocking tone to match your joke. You both share a fit of laughter. Once it subsides, your eyes fix on him.

"Bold of me to think I wouldn't fall in love with you after all these years." Your words hit Spencer, whose expression changes from light to serious in a second.

"What?"

"It's like they say. At some point, something has to give. And this is my moment." You pause before continuing. "I can't say I'm sure what's coming, because I'm not. I also don't know if what you've seen of me these past few months is worth enough for you to love me again. But there's one thing I do know. I love you. I loved you, I missed you, and now I've loved you again."

Spencer is speechless. His brain tries to piece together each word you say. You take both his hands in yours, and you can feel them tremble.

"If you'll have me, I want to be the one that stays," you add, hoping your words are good enough to convey your emotions.

You don't know when tears start running down your cheeks. It might be when you see Spencer's glassy eyes.

"I do love you. And I want you to be the one who stays," he rasps before releasing your hands to cup your cheeks with his own, leaning down to whisper, "Let me be the person you want to stay for."

"You already are," you whisper back before closing the distance between you, allowing your lips to meet in a tender, sweet kiss. A new promise and a new beginning for two souls that were meant to be. Thanks to fate, or maybe not. That doesn't matter anymore.

As you kiss, part, whisper sweet nothings to each other, and kiss again, not so far away, are two people watching the scene with satisfied looks on their faces.

"Do you see that, Hot Stuff?" Garcia asks Morgan. A smirk appears on his face.

"Yeah, mama. I see it, clear as the day."

"We did it!" Penelope cheers, whisper-yelling, making Morgan chuckle.

"I should never have doubted you, baby girl," the man says, kissing her cheek.

"Of course not. But I forgive you only because I'm so happy our plan worked wonderfully."

-----------

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

Penelope Garcia's curiosity always gets the best of her. She has gotten to know you better in the past months since the IA convention where you met. She sees you as a beautiful person and a good friend. So when you told her on a night full of alcohol about your ex-husband and how important your relationship was for you, Penelope couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know more, so maybe she could do something to help. Do what? She didn't know, but maybe more information about it would give her an idea.

Quickly typing on her keyboard, she finds a Pasadena Marriage License with your name on it. Checking the date, Garcia notes you had married in the summer before your senior year. It was expected. You already told her that.

What was unexpected, though, was finding out who the person you had married was. Garcia had to read the name twice before realizing the huge discovery she had just made: Spencer Walter Reid.

'No way! It has to be a mistake,' she squealed, fast-reading the information on the papers. No, there wasn't any mistake. You married Spencer Reid almost ten years ago. The same Spencer Reid she has known for so long and works with her every day.

But wait. You had said, ex-husband. Where are the divorce papers?

Typing again, she finds a divorce request signed by you and Spencer a year after you married. So that is true, too.

Overwhelmed by everything she has just discovered, Garcia is about to close the web tabs with all this data when something pops up: it's a court resolution dated six months after the divorce request. The resolution reads that the request has been denied because one of the parts couldn't be notified for comparison to the Pasadena tribunal. Garcia narrows her eyes and types again, looking for an updated legal document granting the divorce request. She finds none.

'Double holy fucking shit! They are still married!'

Without knowing what to do with this new information, she starts pacing frantically in the office. Garcia knows that the information she found wasn't for her to know, but at the same time, how does it not you or Spencer know this? She can't tell you, but she should, or maybe not. Grabbing her phone, she dials the only person she knows will help her with the dilemma.

"Derek Morgan. I need your delicious ass in my office right now!"

And just like that, a plan emerged. A plan to give a little push to destiny. A little push to you and Spencer cross paths again. Maybe this time, for good.

-----------

"And when are you going to tell them about their failed divorce?" Morgan asks Garcia, who is still looking at the couple giggling and kissing.

"Oh, shush. Let them enjoy tonight. There will be time for that."

Derek Morgan shakes his head, laughing. "Okay. You're the boss, mama. You're the boss."

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

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #babymetaldoll #aperrywilliams #writting challenge

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ultimatebottom69 · 2 days ago

Text

Frankly thank you. Yeah I read the whole thing. I don't know either what's happening I wrote my answer in tired mode too I am sorry you had to read that shit. And no I never said lesbian should have sex to be considered lesbians (I don't know why I implied that now that i read myself again) i mean I am asexual I don't know. It's 3 am where I am so I was thankful for someone explaining in...A lot of details bow wrong i was. I love essays and thank you for setting me queer. Like no worries my sexy dyke essayist i am asexual and I think I didn't your first very valid point. I am laughing at the last emoji in use by the way. Sorry for not answering faster.

And not to distrub you longer, because well I did waste your time. How do you do the read more thingy ? Cause. Hell yeah. I shall befriend more lesbians. The irony of my name and me using the sex as a measure as an asexual is...10/10 Raider. No one did it that bad.

I got 5 hours of sleep My auditive hallucinations woke me the fuck up. If you have a cat go see it.

Anyway thank you. Again. Have a pleasant day and thank you again.

"he's like a woman to me!!!" not true because if he was a woman to you you wouldn't give a fuck about him

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vaspider · 1 day ago

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I'm sorry to bother you, but just

It looks like a Trump win. I can't live another 4 years in Trump America but I have no escape. I have no passport, no car, no driver's license, nothing. I'm essentially stuck. What the fuck do I do? How do I keep living knowing that the rest of my life is going to descend into hell because this country is filled with murderous shitheads that hate anyone that isn't just like them?

That really is the question, isn't it?

I can't answer that for you. That's a question you are gonna have to answer for yourself.

Personally, I'm just too fucking stubborn to let bullies beat me. I'll keep getting up every morning until I physically can't anymore because I just refuse to let these petty creatures tell me I should lie down and die. And I refuse to let my kid watch me get knocked down and not get back up. Whatever reason you find, find it and dig your roots down into that.

I'm sorry I don't have a magic answer for you.

#us politics #election 2024

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andcars · 23 hours ago

Text

# 𝗠𝗩𝟯𝟯 ─── GAMER MOMENTS MASTERLIST⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀AO3

YOU'RE A MINECRAFT STREAMER and get in contact with some new guys. one of them won't stop bullying you. it's kinda silly how he acts like he's being subtle that he's trying to flirt with you.

TAGS. . . # fluff, bullying as flirting, pining max verstappen, 'oblivious' reader, minecraft streamers

FIC STYLE. . . # social media au (instagram chats, tweets)

zsync

ty FSMP for having me. that being said, hopefull i didn't give too much of a bad impression to some of ya'll....

liked by albonono, grussell and 7,742 others

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stellaroit i MISSED A ZSYNC STREAM?!?!?

orrifices RIP it was a funny stream

stellaroit what happened the vod isn't out yet

rudemi played minecraft in a new friend group and just decided to cause chaos towards this other streamer the entire time

angeleles who the hell is this lion33 dude and why did he have to hog all the wheat

divissx CHAT THE FURNACE IS NOT FURNACING!! highlight of the stream

lion33 mate i need u to leave the smp

albonono You're just jealous she got all the diamonds in the main island

lion33 completely unrelated

zsync (i'm not) sorry max

ynpng

chat i am not washed at minecraft

liked by alexalbono, georgerussell and 219 others

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georgerussell Disagree

ynpng like i ASKED

alexalbono Slay

alexalbono Btw why're u off priv do u know that

ynpng yessir

alexalbono Suspicious

alexalbono Are you joining the server soon. Max is annoying me

ynpng stop hogging my comments + maybe idk i'm still bitter abt him killing my cows

lion33

appreciate @ albonono for letting me on his stream. i do have his password now btw

liked by albonono, grussell, zsync and 13,611 others

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zsync WAS THAT WHY ALEX WAS JUST MUTED THE ENTIRE TIME?? IT WAS YOU??

lion33 lol

albonono @ zsync he was enjoying receiving flowers from you too much

lion33 your base? exploded.

shouula i love having a pov of max smiling like an idiot when yn was treating him like alex (aka kindly)

vrikrik real. yn is living the y/n life. what i would do to make him smile like that

albonono If u wanted to flirt do it on your own stream I literally went to piss

lion33 ???

massuech dude this is the weirdest softlaunch ever

zsync @ zsyncc · 28 October i'm never playing this game again

141 replies 881 reposts 1.8k likes

Max V @ lion33 · 28 October — Replying to @ zsyncc ur being dramatic lol my house was griefed i needed somewhere to stay 41 replies 331 likes

mia 🕸 @ webberstrr · 28 October — Replying to @ lion33 just say you wanted to put your beds together in minecraft and leave 2 replies 6 likes

EVE @ eeves1 · 28 October so we agree that max and yn were flirting the entire thing right

14 replies 7 reposts 63 likes

EVE @ eeves1 · 28 October — Replying to @ eeves1 i don't like rpf but it is kinda funny how max was goading yn on like a kindergarten with a crush 3 replies 7 likes

zsync

my beautiful house before it was INVADED BY THE DUTCH (also here's the mirmir bath pics ya'll begged for)

liked by albonono, grussell , lion33 and 7,742 others

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pineeapper KITTYYY

lion33 you could've just said no

zsync would u have taken no as an answer?

lion33 no haha this is what u get for stealing my diamonds

littelorrenst chaotic stream as always

piapastry no one else gonna question the weird domesticity of her and max? no? ok

albonono Why're you reposting the mirmir pics from your "priv" account

zsync because i can

lion33 what? u have a priv?

Yn | You are now private messaging @ ynpng 142 followers · 521 posts

lion33 this isn't private lmao

ynpng no i just took it off priv for a bit

lion33 oh. ok btw like do u wanna film something tgt soon

ynpng yea sure why not

lion33 cool cool yea friday?

ynpng sure

lion33 shared a location

ynpng huh

lion33 where we can meet. alex told me you live near me so

ynpng wait omfg i thought u meant like stream

lion33 oh it's ok if u want it to be just a stream like minecraft or smthn

ynpng no no its okay. i need new vid on my main yt anyways

lion33 u sure? lol it's ok if u dont wanna film irl w me

ynpng stop being such a hard ass maxy. i say yes to filming

lion33 cool. thanks btw i really like ur videos 👍

zsync

causing chaos in the toy store in my new video. thank you @ lion33 for featuring and being my slave for the day

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wiiredxs never thought id get to see max doing an irl vlog willingly

hamiston who messed with the timeline why am i seeing max and yn tgt

vrikrik RIGHT like max flew a plane just to film this video 😭 they live in diff continents

lion33 sighs

albonono Your flirting technique sucks

lion33 shut the fuck up

orrifices am i delusional is this not the equivalent to teasing ur friend over his crush

grussell Yn, I hope you're seeing this

zsync seeing what

grussell Crikey...

Yn | You are now private messaging @ ynpng

georgerussell I don't wanna be the bearer of news... But Max has a crush on you

ynpng that's crazy dawg

georgerussell Okay I need some more reaction than that Me and the guys' GC have been talking about it ever since the first FSMP stream

ynpng whattttttt he's whatttttttt

georgerussell What in the Have you like known this the entire time

ynpng George. The man is a Monaco based streamer. I do not live in Monaco. He told me that Alex said we live near each other. I can kinda tell when people have a crush...

georgerussell And that's just your reaction!? I still expected something!

ynpng ill give u a reaction if he does something more obvious in the next stream

zsync @ zsyncc · 8 November fsmp birthday stream 2nite y'all. wish me bday luck i need netherite

568 replies 7k reposts 12.9k likes

EVE @ eeves1 · 8 November alright are we ever going to talk about how max (and im entirely sure it's max) put netherites in yn's chest like that was so cute...

27 replies 142 reposts 628 likes

♠ | FIO @ butt3fl1es · 8 November WHY DID I ENTER THE STREAM TO MAX MAXPLAINING ABOUT MONACO BOYS NOT BEING FUCKBOYS!?!?

WHAT IS HE YAPPING ABT

16 replies 7 reposts 88 likes

#33 @ quetoii · 8 November someone needs to tell max his cam is still on everyone can see him giggling after yn thanked him for his gift

23 replies 98 reposts 218 likes

dumb blonde moment @ jaccalps · 8 November — Replying to @ quetoii it's his fault anyways like no one streams minecraft w their cam on for maximum laziness

2 replies 6 likes

ynpng 🔒

@ lion33 thanks for the present! and you, I guess. but seriously, you need like better courting skills. my nephew could do way better than you and he's 3yo

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alexalbono I'm sorry, courting!?

ynpng if bullying me counts as courting yeah

georgerussell ... No one won the bet

lion33 this is why you don't start a bet

georgerussell Mate, no one expected you to try and get with her like two weeks when you first met

ynpng ok to clarify, we are not dating. he's funny and he's rich so im letting him try

layladook girl whyre you a red flag 😭

lion33 my fave color has always been red

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . ok so i decided to do like my tweets as the text so it was easier for me to make this + less images uploaded. feel free to tell me if it's better or bad from how i used to do it before. anyways this was funny to write. i love minecraft. i love that max loves minecraft. it's just a bunch of tomfoolery around here also, my birthday is actually on the 8th so lil easter egg lmao ˎˊ˗ ᝰ.

──── 📨 @delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @bicchaan @fallingforpvris @rtorresblog @tribbisweetdear @jamie2305 @mv1simp

you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡

#🔖 . MV33 #: 🔗social media #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #formula 1 imagine #formula one #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagines #formula one scenarios

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maybanksprincess · 3 days ago

Text

seven minutes in heaven

warnings: suggestive but no actual smut, mature themes, dry humping, tongue kissing.

summary: a game of seven minutes in heaven leads to reader and jj stuck in a closet together.

pairings: childhood!bsf!jj x childhood!bsf!reader

requested by this ask (thank you anon!) i dont know much about the game, so if i got one of the steps wrong, im sorry in advance.

you and the rest of the pogues gathered together on a saturday night to drink beers, smoke weed, and play spin the bottle. typical pogue shit.

all of you were sat in a circle on the carpet in the living room floor of the chateau. there was a glass beer bottle in the middle of all seven of you.

for a half hour, the game was spin the bottle. everyone's facial expressions quickly grew bored. John B, and Sarah were talking about something totally different, Pope and Cleo gone to grab a new crate of beers.

After a few more moments of all of you staring at the wall blankly, Kiara's the first to break the awkward silence. "hey what's that game we all used to play when we were sophmores?" she asks, twirling a piece of her curly hair around her pointer finger.

after kiara speaks, jjs facial expression changes to one of interest. he thinks for a moment and then speaks, "the one where you get locked in a closet for like ten minutes?" he asks

Pope rounds the corner with a few beers tucked in his arm. Cleo not far behind him "seven minutes." he corrects, pointing a finger at him.

jj rolls his eyes at the correction and mimics a mouth with his hand, mocking his words "seven minutes" he says, trying his best to sound as much like pope as possible.

you flick the back of jjs neck, mumbling a shut up to him. he lets out a high pitched ow and rolls his eyes, but ultimately he stops his mocking.

John b turns back towards the group at the mention of the new game. "are we finally gonna play something other than spin the bottle? im kinda tired of landing on Sarah." he teases

Sarah shoves him playfully, and then turns back to the topic of conversation. "Yeah we should play, it sounds fun. how does it work?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

Pope speaks up this time, "we spin a bottle for two people, whichever two people it lands on, they go in a closet together for seven minutes to do whatever they want." he adds with a hint of suggestion at the end of his sentence.

jj smirks and turns to look at you, memories of the last time you two played this game when you were fifteen, when you shared your first kiss.

it was the first kiss for both of you, so it was sloppy and had a lot of teeth and tongue, it was sickening to think about, but never forgotten.

jj pipes up next, "yup we can play. this games borin' anyways." he says with a shrug.

everyone else agrees and shifts themselves back into a circle on the carpet. Pope places the bottle in the middle, then darting his eyes from one pogue to another.

"so whos first?" pope speaks

jj doesn't waste a second in volunteering to go first. "me! uh- ill spin first." he says, clearing his throat. everyones eyes fly to jj, giving him a questioning look.

"dude you answered that way too fast." john b says with a growing smirk on his face, his eyes now flickering between me and jj sitting beside one another.

"dude shut up!" jj says, before reaching forward and spinning the glass bottle, he crosses his arms and sneakily crosses his fingers hoping, praying, that it lands on you.

everyones eyes are glued intensely to the bottle, the tension in the small room palpable.

eventually the bottle comes to a stop, the tip of it pointing right to your knee. jj has to hold back from jumping up and saying something like hell yeah!

he instantly stands up, holding his hand out for you to take. "cmon m'lady." he teases, and looks at you with his typical shit eating grin.

you roll your eyes and take his hand, standing up and walking to the closed closet with him.

"i bet everyone can guess what they're gonna do in that closet." john b says with a smirk, as he watches jj open the closet door and enter.

"gross! i dont even wanna think about it." kie adds on, then everyone starts to whisper about both of you in the open circle.

as you both get in the cramped closet, jj takes a seat on stacked boxes that clearly say "fragile" but he obviously doesn't seem to mind. he looks up at you still standing there awkwardly in the dimly lit space.

"seems oddly familiar, doesn't it?" he teases. your brain floods with memories of you and jj in the same situation back in sophomore year.

you both had been in this exact crammed closet, deciding you could both share you first kiss together. it was sloppy, uncoordinated, and you both were trying to figure out a comfortable spot to place your hands. it was an awkward and uncomfortable kiss, but it was stuck in your brain nonetheless.

"yeah, really familiar." you chuckle nervously, looking around, and tapping your foot on the ground. you avoid eye contact with the blonde, hoping this seven minutes would pass by quickly.

he notices your shift in mood, and he smirks. he spreads his legs and moves his arms behind his head as he speaks.

"you know, were in here for a whole seven minutes. we should put it to good use, right?" he was enjoying making you nervous, and teasing you.

when he doesn't get a response, he gently pulls you onto his lap so your straddling him. he looks up into your eyes in the dimly lit closet, with something you cant quite describe.

before you know it, your both leaning in slowly, jj is the one to connect his lips with yours. the kiss was gentle and chaste at first, your mouths moving passionately against one another.

jjs hands find their way to your waist, gently caressing the flesh. you take that as a sign to move your hands up his torso, then settling your arms around his neck, all while continuing to kiss him passionately.

the kiss grows more intense over time, your tongues fighting for dominance against one another. eventually you catch yourself grinding your hips against his, as you both makeout.

minutes go by, and he finds himself lost in your kisses and the way your grinding your hips against his. his cock doesn't take long to stir in his cargo shorts.

when you feel his buldge press up against you, your hips move a little faster, the kisses becoming more desperate. before you know it, a light is shining in the closet and the sound of the door creaking fills your ears.

you pull away from jjs lips briefly to look at who opened the door.

"seven minutes are up, lovebirds." john b says with a jerk of his head, motioning for you two to get out the closet with a smirk.

IM SO SORRY TO LEAVE YALL ON A HANGER LOL

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magics-neptunes-things · 3 days ago

Text

You Belong With Me

Hi guys!

I'm finally working on my WIP's. This is a request I received a long time ago, I'm so sorry for the wait. You can find it here.

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Alcohol

When Alessia moved to Arsenal, you were happy because you always found her very talented. You saw her playing during the World Cup and with you already playing for Arsenal, you had to play against her several times.

You love her play, and she seems really sweet, which is not a bad thing. You remember being with Leah in the medical centre when Alessia came to sign her contract. The other blond introduced both of you and since then you are inseparable.

You do all your drills together, you sometimes come together for training, and you sit almost always next to each other on the coach when you are travelling in the country for games.

This summer you even went to Ibiza together, even if there were more pictures of Alessia and Toone, you were there too. And you really had a blast there, enjoying every single day. You come even closer to Alessia, and you have to control yourself to keep your gesture friendly.

You are separated during the national breaks though. For this one you go back to your country, or wherever the camp is, while Alessia stays in England with her national teammates.

This is during the last camp that you realize how much you were fucked up. You missed Alessia every single second of the camp, wanting to hear her voice and talk to her all day long. You missed her smile, you missed her touch, you missed her perfume and even the way her hair whips your face during some exercises in training.

You messaged each other from time to time, but not every day. Sometimes Alessia took a long time to answer your messages and you hated the way your stomach makes you feel sick during this time. You don’t want to be a burden for her obviously, she’s your friend and she doesn’t see you like that.

So, after your return to London, you decide to be more distant with Alessia, for your mental health. Plus, the blonde has a lot of other friends on the team, so she won’t have any problems finding someone else.

You are late the first time you have to take the coach to go to Manchester and play your first game back. So, it’s not a problem to sit in front of Katie and Caitlin while Alessia is next to Kyra, several rows behind.

And since that move, you become more and more distant with her. You take more time to answer her messages, you avoid going to the team bonding and you always have something to do when Alessia proposes to drive you to training.

You see Alessia frowning from time to time, but like you were thinking, some of your teammates seem eager to spend time with her. It’s more difficult for you to find someone to do your drills with. Sometimes it’s Laia, sometimes it’s Steph. You have a great time with them, but it has nothing to do with doing it with Alessia.

You were really thinking that those changes aren’t bothering Alessia. But to be honest, it’s not exactly working on stopping your crush on her.

You have to fight the need to look at you every time you can, your eyes are attracted to her like two magnets.

The fact that you find her more beautiful every day probably doesn’t help either. But now you aren’t even crossing her eyes. When she starts to turn her eyes to look in your direction, you are already doing something else.

From friends you are now strangers and even if it breaks your heart, you know it’s for the better. If you confessed your feelings to Alessia, you would have lost her anyway. Like this, at least she won’t feel strange because of you.

“What’s the matter between you and Lessi?” Leah asks you while you are doing some drills.

For once, Lia chooses to partner with Mariona, letting Leah make them with you. You wait to send her the ball back before answering.

“What do you mean?” you ask with a poker face.

Leah sends you the ball back, not looking at you in the process. You like it that way, it doesn’t give you the impression of being grilled by her. You wonder if Alessia sends her to you, or if this is just a Captain’s duty.

“You were both so close and now it looks like you don’t even talk. Did something happen between you?”

“No” you shake your head. “We just… grow apart, I don’t know. It happens to people sometimes, just like Katie and you. You aren’t as close as you were some years ago”

It’s a poker move that you are making, to be honest. Sure, Leah and Katie aren’t close like before, but they are still friends. They are still talking, joking around and laughing together. Which you aren’t doing anymore with Alessia.

This time Leah looks at you with scepticism. You can see in her eyes that she doesn’t believe you at all. Just like if she knows how you would have killed just to have a hug from Alessia.

“If you say so” she finally says.

She doesn’t believe you, but at least she doesn’t push the subject. You are glad for it. You haven’t talked to anyone about your feelings for Alessia and why you made the decision to avoid her suddenly.

You finish your drills in silence, probably both lost in your thoughts. It’s only when you are finished and going back to the group that Leah talks again.

“You know that you can talk to me about anything, yeah?”

You raise your head in Leah’s direction, and you feel your face softening a little. She seems really concerned about you. It makes you warm inside.

“Thank you” you smile.

“Anytime”

She gives you a side hug which you answer, passing both of your arms around her waist. You appreciate the girl, not in the way you appreciate Alessia. But under her stern glare, Leah is really a big softie.

Leah passes her arm around your shoulders and drags you near the team who is having a drink pause. It’s at this moment that you cross Alessia’s blue eyes. She gives you a tentative smile, which you answer with an uneasy one before hurrying to take a bottle of water.

Later that day, you were getting out of the showers, sure that no one was still here. You went to the medical team for a little strange feeling in your tight. It was nothing but you still had a massage before going to the shower. Only Steph and Beth were still there, and they told you goodbye when you entered the shower.

You took a long and hot shower, waiting for every part of your body to be really relaxed. It took time but you finally managed it.

No one was waiting for you at home, so you take your time to get dressed and prepare yourself. You were grabbing your bag when the door opens, and you froze when you see who is entering the locker room.

Alessia.

She seems surprised to see you here too and stays still for some seconds before opening her mouth.

“Oh, I thought you were already home” she says softly.

“I’m going now” you answer, passing next to her to reach the exit.

“Wait”

Alessia grabs your arm, and you froze once again. Alessia releases you very quickly, taking your frozen state for discomfort. She doesn’t realise that your stillness is because of the warm feeling that this simple touch makes you feel.

“Sorry” she mumbles, looking at her feet. “I was wondering… Is everything fine? We don’t talk like we used to”

You bite your lips softly before answering. She seems really touched by the situation and you feel your heart break a little more. But you shake yourself mentally. It’s for the better like this.

“Yeah, everything is fine” you smile. “Look I have to go; I have a meeting with my agent. See you tomorrow?”

“Are you coming to Beth’s?”

Beth is organising a team bonding tomorrow night, and you said you were going before Alessia answered. A mistake you usually aren’t making but you were unfocused while answering the invitation.

“Yes”

“Cool” Alessia smiles awkwardly.

You smile back before going out of here. Your cheeks are so red that it could have been used as decoration for an Arsenal video.

Coming here was a bad idea, you knew it. You almost wrote to Beth ten times to say that you weren’t coming, but you are still here, sandwiched on a couch between Laia and Mariona. Both girls were yapping in Spanish, Mariona’s hand somewhere on Lia’s knee. You were happy to be seated here though, at least you don’t need to talk or anything.

You saw Alessia looking at you several times, but she looked away every time you were looking back. Maybe your plan is starting to work, you thought with relief. Alessia talked almost all night with Lotte and Emily, far away from you. You can’t help but feel a little jealous though, hearing her laugh resonate in the room from time to time. But you shouldn’t feel that way.

She wrote to you yesterday and you ignored her text once again. You feel bad about it, but you don’t have the choice.

You may have drunk a little too much cider that Lia brought back from her training camps in France. Your teammates swear that it wasn’t with alcohol, but when you look at the bottle it’s said it in fact does have alcohol. Only a little but for those like you who aren't drinking alcohol at all, you don’t need a lot of it to feel your head start spinning.

You were looking at Myle sleeping when you hear a part of the conversation between Alessia, Emily and Lotte. You wish you wouldn’t have.

“So, how was the date Emily arranged you?” Lotte asks Alessia.

You feel your jaw contracting, without being able to really control your muscles. You stand up, mumbling something about the bathroom to Laia who looks at you with concern before getting out of the living room. You actually go to the bathroom, locking the door behind you before splashing cold water on your face.

Who did you think you could convince? In all your stupidity, you didn’t think for one second that Alessia could look for someone else. Of course she will, and you know that she probably has thousands of people waiting for her. She’s perfect and you are lousy.

You jump when you hear someone knocking at the door.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You are relieved to hear Lia’s voice and not Alessia’s. You take a deep breath before answering, you want to be sure that your voice will be okay.

“I’m fine. Just freshening up a little”

You close the tap and take another big breath before going out. Thank god your eyes aren’t red, and your cheeks aren’t flushed. Otherwise, you would have been screwed.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Lia asks after having looked at you with a perfect arched eyebrow.

“I think I’ve been sick of the cider. It’s maybe better if I go home. Can you tell Beth? I don’t want the others to make fun of me”

You see her hesitate some seconds before answering.

“Don’t you want someone to take you home?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine” you shrug.

“Y/N.”

Lia grabs your hand, and you look at her, like a child is looking at his mother before being scolded. Lia just used what Kyra calls her “Mom’s voice”, but you got the feeling perfectly well right now.

“Don’t you dare driving, am I clear?”

“I won’t Lia, I swear” you smile softly. “I’m just going to walk home, and I will come back to take my car tomorrow. Really, don’t worry I’ll be fine, okay?”

You don’t really know if you will be fine, but you find your tentative lie pretty good actually. Lia seems to believe it anyway, not suspecting for a second that you probably will go home to cry in your bed. And pretend a hangover to stay at home for the next 24 hours.

Lia finally nods and says goodbye, letting you go to grab your jacket and your shoes. It’s only when you close the door behind you that you realise that no one saw that it started to rain. Which isn’t surprising because you literally live in London. But you still don’t have an umbrella or anything to hide under.

You sigh and start to walk. You aren’t leaving far away from Beth’s house, it’s only a ten minutes’ walk. Hiding your hands in your pocket, you cross the road and hurry a little bit. The fresh air is great for you, even if it probably would have been better without the rain.

“Y/N!”

You would have recognized that voice between every voice in the world. Even if she’s running and your ears are full of the noise of the rain.

When you turn in her direction, Alessia is crossing the street too, without a coat or a jacket or anything else other than her jumper.

“What are you doing here? Do you want to die from pneumonia?” you ask, your concern making you forget that you are supposed to ignore her.

“I just… I need to understand”

Alessia is looking at you, her beautiful eyes scanning your face and your eyes. But you don’t hold her gaze, preferring to look somewhere behind the street.

“No! Stop not looking at me!”

That sentence has the good point of surprising you enough to make you look at her. The rain sticks her long blond hair to her face, and you must take it on yourself not to clear that said beautiful face.

“You need to tell me what the matter is! I can’t remember when you stopped hugging me to say hello and I don’t understand why you are suddenly ghosting me. What is happening? What did I do?”

There is no escape for you now. You still can pretend that she’s imagining things and answer her like you said to Leah some days before. People just grow apart at some point. It’s sad, but it’s life. But you know that Alessia won’t believe that.

“You did nothing, Lessi. It’s just complicated” you sigh, passing a hand on your face.

“Then talk to me! Together we can work on it!”

“It doesn’t matter” you try to avoid the subject, walking away from a few steps.

But Alessia doesn’t seem to hear like this. She hurries to close the distance between you again, grabbing your arm once again. Her fingers are cold like ice on your skin, making you shiver. She must be freezing.

“It does matter, Y/N, fuck!”

You look at her with wide eyes. It’s maybe the first time you hear Alessia swearing outside of a football pitch. She looks genuinely upset. Seeing her like this isn’t easy for you, you could give your life for her. You never wanted to see her sad.

“We were closer than anyone and now you act as if it never mattered to you. You said I did nothing, so what is it? Are you in trouble? Did you meet someone who is too jealous for you to hang on with me?”

You roll your eyes, suddenly annoyed when you remember that she went on a date with someone else several days ago.

“I’m not the one trying to date someone else” you grumble.

It takes Alessia by surprise. The blonde doesn’t seem to know what to answer to that, before finally opening her mouth.

“How does it even have a point with any of this?”

“I…”

“Y/N please…”

You groan, passing both hands on your face. Everything is so complicated and Alessia will definitely catch at least a cold or something. But she keeps pressing you and between the cold, the cider and all the feelings you have for this girl, you can’t contain yourself anymore.

“I like you, okay?” you finally almost shout in the middle of the street. “And not like you like a friend likes you, I like you. I’m the girl who fell in love with her straight beautiful best friend. I tried to fight against it, but I can’t, Alessia.”

You take a big breath, looking at Alessia’s drenched face. How is she still so attractive under the rain? It’s unbelievable. She’s silent for now, looking at you with wide eyes and her mouth a little agape.

“You’re just so perfect and I didn’t want you to hate me, so I thought that if I drift apart from you, it will be better. But it’s not working at all. I can’t forget you and now you’re here looking at me and all I want to do is kiss you.”

You finally remember to breathe again and it takes some time for Alessia to finally talk again.

“You… You like me?” she finally manages to say, stuttering a little.

“Yes, I do” you sigh.

You wanted to add that now you really need to go inside and ask Beth if they can borrow some clothes. Alessia would probably need the ones from Viv, because there is no way that she can fit in something belonging to Beth.

But suddenly Alessia is grabbing your face with both of her hands, tilting it just a little to be in the right direction and then… Then she kisses you. Her lips are on yours and your brain is short-circuiting. You need several seconds before answering her kiss, finally processing that it’s really happening.

When she feels you kissing her back, Alessia lets go of your face with one of her hands to grab your neck and deepen the kiss. During this time, your arms went around her neck, keeping her close.

You don’t know for now what is happening in her head, maybe it’s just a one-time thing. So, you better remember every single second of it.

Alessia’s body is cold against yours, but the taste and the softness of her lips are amazing. Even better than what you imagined.

When the kiss ends, she presses her forehead against yours and your eyes automatically go for her lips.

“Less, let’s go home. Your lips are blue” you whisper.

You take her hand and pull a little on it for her to follow you. Which she finally does, following you under the rain. Your house is closer than hers, so you don’t hesitate before taking her here.

You wipe the puddles of water on your wooden floors while Alessia takes a hot shower, and she makes tea while you take yours. The effect of the alcohol seems to have been forgotten thanks to your talk with Alessia. Or maybe it’s the kiss.

It is definitely the kiss.

When you come back in the living room, wearing your pyjamas short and an old jersey from your national country, Alessia smiles shyly at you. She was looking at the steam from the mugs on the coffee table in front of her.

“We probably need to talk” the blonde says softly, when you are seated next to her on the couch.

“Yeah” you breathe, looking at the mug between your hands. “Look, if you want to forget about that kiss…”

“No, I don’t want to! Y/N you need to… Give me that” she cuts herself.

She takes the mug from your hand to put it back on the table, next to hers. You turn a surprised gaze on her when she grabs your hands, taking them between hers. Her hands are way hotter than before, really pleasant on your skin.

“You need to stop pretending I don’t like you back. I do like you. Maybe I realised it very late, but I do.”

You blink your eyes as you look at her, shocked. You didn’t expect this to be quite honest. You had time to prepare yourself for many eventualities during your shower and the one where Alessia announces that she got carried away a little is the one you thought the most plausible. Alessia is romantic. Which romantic people would refuse a kiss in the rain?

“I thought we were just friends, but when you stopped talking to me, it made me realise that there was more. I missed you, every single second. It was hard but it made me realise that I never really had friendly feelings for you.”

You were looking at her intensively, not missing a single word or a single facial expression. It seems too good to be true.

“But… You are straight” you frown.

“Haven’t you seen the TikTok trend “Gay for her” ?” she rolls her eyes.

You roll your eyes too but look at her again when she squeezes your hands. You love the feeling of her skin against yours.

“What if we try and it doesn’t work? I don’t want to lose you” you whisper.

“What if it does work? We can go at the pace we want, how we want. We don’t owe anything to anyone.”

It seems so easy saying like that. You finally address her a small smile, which she returns without any hesitation.

“I never thought you would reciprocate my feelings” you admit. “I think I will need time to deal with that information.”

Alessia laughs and you can’t hide your smile. You love seeing her happy and the way her eyes are sparkling make you understand that she is right now.

“We have all the time” she promises.

You are always smiling when you raise your hand to slowly stroke her face with your fingertips. Her lips aren’t blue anymore and her cheeks are even a little pink. She’s so beautiful.

“Can I kiss you again?” you ask with a soft smile.

Alessia smirks.

“You don’t need to ask for that.”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo

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whorelaud · 3 days ago

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꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 birthday sex ¿¡

pairing bf¡drew starkey x fem¡reader

summary just reader dealing with horny drew while hes away on his birthday

contatins fluff, slightly suggestive, age gap, drew texting like an old man!!

a/n little birthday texting oneshot because i love him so much agh!!

word count 702

ml <3: Where is my happy birthday?

You grinned, perking up when you noticed the message you received from your boyfriend. You typed in a quick response, knowing how sulky he gets when you take long to reply, especially when he’s away.

You: okay damn straight to the point

You: it hasnt even turned 12 yet :(

ml <3: Gurl

You: men used to go to the war

You: now they have sass competitions w/ their girlfriends 😒

ml <3: Lolll

ml <3: That’s not funny

You: why are you loling then old man

ml <3:: Hey! I’m not that old

You: well

You: u JUST turned 31

You: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABYYY I LOVE YOU

You: I wish I can see you :(

ml <3: Hahaha thank youuuu!

ml <3: I love you beautiful

ml <3: I can't wait to land I miss my pretty girlfriend

You: stawppp blushes like a slut

ml <3: ??? Excuse me!

ml <3: Proof? Send picture

You: u nasty

You: are u into that degrading shit

ml <3: I mean

ml <3: I don’t mind it

ml <3: If you like it then I do and if you don't then it’s okay. Either way I am happy as long as you’re content baby!

You: stop why’d u take that so srsly i was joking

You: is this the perks of turning 31

ml <3: Ugh 🙄

ml <3: You always do this!

You: ugh ure so cute i cant believe ure 21

You: 31* oops

ml <3: Are you shaming me for growing now?

You: no i love u

ml <3: You*

You: i have a surprise for u

You: i cant wait for u to land

ml <3: YOU HAVE A SURPRISE FOR ME??? 😇

You: yeahahh

ml <3: What is it

ml <3: Please show me Please Pleaseeeeee

You: its a surprise i cant :( when u get home i swear!

ml <3: Did you get me condoms?

You: pardon me!

You: when have i ever gotten you condoms for ur birthday

ml <3: 😏

You: get that skunky face off my screen

ml <3: 😒

You: LMAO

ml <3: Tell me!

You: i cant baby that will ruin the surprise

ml <3: Are you like…

You: ??? am i what

ml <3: did you actually get me condoms

You: why do u keep bringing up the condoms is it on ur birthday wishlist or something

ml <3: It’s not a bad present

You: DREW.

ml <3: Can we fuck when I get back

You: oh

ml <3: Ugh I miss you

ml <3: Jus’ thought about fucking you and now I’m horny

You: are u like

ml <3: Am I what baby

You: are u trolling ahaha is this a joke

ml <3: …

You: drew omff

You: why would you say that

ml <3: Sorry baby

ml <3: Fuck I miss your lips

You: which ones

You: i take that back please dont answer

ml <3: Both

ml <3: Can we have birthday sex please

You: hello??? where did that come from

ml <3:: Sorry I’m horny

ml <3: Do you think it feels different from normal sex

You: well if i had to guess it would probably be more thrilling, maybe?

ml <3: We should test out that theory

ml <3: Verify whether it’s true

You: shush omg

You: u suck

ml <3: My dick

ml <3: can you suck my dick when I’m back

You: omg shut up

ml <3: Is that a no? :(

You: yeah… ur 31!!! too old 4 me

ml <3: Nah you're right I could be your father

You: k its not that bad

You: it’s only 4 years

ml <3: 6*

ml <3: actually

ml <3: 7 now what the fuck

You: STOPP

You: ure so cute please marry me

ml <3: Lol

ml <3: I’m horny

You: drew omg

ml <3: Should I rub one out in the plane bathroom?

You: 🤦‍♀️

You: just wait until ure back

ml <3: Wait

ml <3: WAIT AXTUALLY?

You: WHAT

ml <3: ARE YOU BEING SERIOUS

ml <3: Omg I am so Excited

You: loser

ml <3: So, birthday sex yeah?

You: i hate you

ml <3: i love you too baby

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #rafe cameron #outer banks #drew starkey fluff

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aliyahwritings · 10 hours ago

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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (06)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 5.3k

Aliyah's Notes: after the calamity of ch5 i present u ch6.... enjoy it. or not. AND IM SORRY FOR THE ENDING 🔥😩😅😨

It's been days. Or weeks? You didn’t even know anymore. The calendar on my phone kept reminding me, but you stopped counting. Maybe if you ignored the world long enough, it’ll forget you existed. Maybe if you stayed in this apartment, you could disappear into these four walls like you were never here in the first place.

Numbers. You used to count them, obsess over them, keep track of every passing hour. But now, time feels... irrelevant. What’s the point of knowing how long you’ve been sinking when no one’s coming to pull you out?

The silence feels... safe. No one to judge you. No one to see the mess you’ve become. It’s funny, though—people always see what they want to see. The headlines called you a goddess, an untouchable force of beauty and success. But what would they say if they knew the truth? That the girl in their glossy magazines could barely stand to look at herself anymore.

You hated this. The lying, the pretending. Nina thought you were just going through a rough patch, but she didn’t know how deep the cracks went. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be this anymore—broken, fragile, teetering on the edge again. You swore you’d never come back to this place. But it’s funny how easy it is to fall back into old habits, how fast the darkness creeps in when no one’s watching.

No one’s watching.

Maybe that’s for the best. Let them keep seeing the version of you they wanted to see—the confident supermodel, the girl who had it all. Let them believe the lie, because the truth? The truth was ugly. The truth was you’ve been staring at your phone for days, hoping—no, needing—for a message, for something from him.

But nothing.

He was in Missouri. Working, you guessed. You didn’t even know when he was coming back. He didn’t say.

You hated him for that. But you hated yourself more for caring. For letting him in, even when you knew better. For thinking, for just one second, that maybe—just maybe—there was something real between you, beneath all the lies you told the world.

But none of it was real. Not the dating, not the smiles, not the person they thought you were. You were a fraud. A perfect, golden fraud wrapped up in designer clothes and empty promises. And the worst part was, you were too tired to fight it anymore. Maybe this was who you were now. A girl who hid in her apartment, waiting for the world to forget she existed.

Or maybe it already happened.

The sound of the door creaking open started you, pulling you out of the spiral you’ve been sinking into. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. No one else had the key to your apartment beside her.

“Are you kidding me, Y/N?” Nina’s voice cut through the heavy silence like a knife. “This is the third time this week. How long do you think you can keep doing this?”

You didn’t respond.

Nina stromed in, slamming the door behind her, and you heard her heels clacking on the floor as she made her way to the living room. “You’re not answering your phone. You’re not responding to emails. You missed three shoots! People are asking questions, Y/N. What do you think I’m supposed to tell them?”

You stayed silent, curling deeper into the couch. Maybe if you didn’t look at her, she’ll go away. Maybe she’ll finally get the hint that you didn’t want to be saved.

But Nina wasn’t the type to back off. “No,” she snapped. “You don’t get to ignore me, not today. You need to get up. You need to fix this, Y/N. You think you can just hide away forever? Is that the plan? Because let me tell you, honey, the world won’t wait for you to get your shit together.”

She stood in front of you now, hands on her hips, glaring down at you like a disappointed mother. Her usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled, and you could tell by the tension in her jaw that she’s been worrying.

“Talk to me, honey,” she said, her voice lower now. “This isn’t you. You don’t just disappear like this. What happened? Is it Rafe? Is it work? Are you back to…” her voice trailed off, but the question hanged in the air, heavy and unspoken.

You couldn’t look at her. The shame curled in your chest, making in hard to breathe. She didn’t know. She didn’t know how badly you’ve relapsed, how badly everything felt like it was slipping out of control again. And you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Not to her. Not to anyone.

“When’s the last time you even showered? Eaten something decent? Your career’s on the line. Everything we’ve worked for is on the line. You can’t just… give up like this.”

Her words hit like slaps, each one stinging, but you still didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Nina huffed, pacing now, her frustration spilling over. “I don’t know what happened between you and Rafe, and honestly, I don’t care. But whatever it is, you don’t get to throw your life away because of it. You’re stronger than this, Y/N. I know you are. So why the hell are you letting this break you?”

You flinched at the word “break.” Because that’s what it feels like. Like you’re already broken, shattered into a million pieces, and you didn’t even know how to start putting yourself back together.

Nina crouched down in front of you, her voice softening, her eyes searching yours. “Talk to me, honey. Please. Tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

For a moment, you almost did. You almost told her everything—the text, the relapse, the endless void you’ve been sinking into. But the words caught in your throat, choking you. What’s the point in talking when nothing will change?

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine.”

Nina’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re not fine. You’re far from it. You think I haven’t seen you like this before? You’re not fooling anyone, Y/N.”

She stood, her frustration bubbling back to the surface. “You need to snap out of it. Because in five days, you’re getting engaged to Rafe Cameron, whether you like it or not. And a week after that, you’re walking down the aisle. You can’t afford to fall apart now.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a lead blanket. The engagement. The wedding. The lies. It all felt so suffocating, so inevitable.

Nina crossed her arms, her voice firm. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get up, you’re going to shower, and you’re going to pull yourself together. Because tomorrow, you’ve got a charity event with Rafe, and you’re going to smile for the cameras and make everyone believe that you’re still that perfect, golden girl they love.”

You wanted to scream at her, tell her you couldn't do it, that you didn't even know how to pretend anymore. But instead, you nodded numbly, sinking deeper into the fog that had settled over your mind.

Nina sighed, her voice softening again as she headed toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. And I swear, Y/N, if you're still in this state when I get here, I will personally drag you to that charity event."

The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving you alone with the weight of everything she'd just said.

You hadn’t slept. Not really. Just laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how you were supposed to pretend like everything was fine when every part of you was falling apart. You could still hear Nina’s voice in your head, telling you to pull yourself together, to be the golden girl everyone expected you to be.

You dragged yourself out of bed, your body heavy. Your legs felt weak, and your mind feltl worse. Everything was numb, but somehow you still felt the pain. You stumbled into the bathroom, turning the water on without thinking. The cold spray hit your skin like tiny needes, and you stood there for a while, trying to let the string wake you up. But it didn’t work—you were still in that fog.

When you finally stepped out of the shower, you didn’t even bother looking in the mirror. It didn’t matter. You grabbed the first thing you saw—a plain black sweater, loose and oversized, and a pair of jeans that didn’t quite fit right anymore. You didn’t even try with your hair, just pulled it back into a bun. No makeup. What was the point? It wasn’t like anyone cared what you looked like today.

When you got to the office, the tension hit you the moment you walked through the door. Your stomach twisted as you made your way down the hallway, each step heavier than the last. You could feel your pulse in your throat, your chest tightening with every breath. You shouldn’t have cared. You shouldn’t. But as you pushed open the door to the conference room and saw him sitting there—Rafe, looking like he hadn’t been bothered by a single thing—you felt the anger bubbling up, hot and sharp.

It started as a familiar ache that had been building ever since the night he walked out of your apartment without a word. Two weeks. Fourteen days of silence. Fourteen nights spent waiting for a text that never came, hoping for even the smallest explanation, something to make sense of the hollow space he’d left behind.

Day 1. Monday, 2:42 AM

You: “Hey. Are you home? LMK, just to be safe.”

Day 2. Tuesday, 8:18 AM

You: “I’m still so confused about what happened last night, but let’s talk when you have a minute.”

Day 3. Wednesday, 5.32 PM

You: “Look, if you’re mad at me, just say it! I thought we were good, what the hell?”

Day 4. Friday, 11:04 PM

You: “It’s been days and I still don’t understand why you left like this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 3:27 PM

You: “Fuck you. I don't know why I keep texting. I know you’re seeing my texts, even though I’m on delivered. Just tell me if you’re done with this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 10:41 PM

You: “Why am I acting like I’m the one who fucked up? I didn’t do anything wrong. You left me like I was nothing, and your only explanation was a shitty rom-com excuse. I thought we were friends, Rafe.”

Day 5: Sunday, 11:36 PM

You: “I hope you rot in your shit ass apartment, but trust that I will show up to one of your stupid games with a sign that says “Small Dick Ghoster” in big, glittery letters. And I hope Chiara will hug you so hard that she’ll end up strangling you to death. Fuck you, again!”

And there he was, sitting there like none of it had happened, like you were still just strangers playing a game. His posture relaxed, that effortless confidence radiating from him, his gaze fixed on the papers in front of him, completely indifferent.

It infuriated you—the ease with which he moved on, the way he could look so composed, so completely unbothered, as if he hadn’t abandoned you in that moment when you were raw and vulnerable. Like it meant nothing. Like you meant nothing.

Every part of you screamed to confront him, to demand an explanation for the silence, the absence, the complete disregard. You could feel the hurt clawing up from your chest, tangling with the anger that burned hotter with each passing second. He was so close, but somehow, he felt miles away.

So instead, you steeled yourself, locking down the hurt, burying it beneath the anger that simmered just beneath the surface. You wouldn’t let him see the effect he had on you, wouldn’t give him the power to know just how much his absence had shattered you. No—he would get nothing from you. Not a word, not a glance, not a single sign of the turmoil raging inside you.

You walked past him without a word, each step heavy with the weight of the anger you swallowed down. Let him sit there, pretending like nothing was wrong. Let him think he could ignore you, dismiss you, erase you from his life without consequence. Because you would make sure he felt every bit of the coldness he had left you with, every ounce of the hurt he’d carved into you.

Ignoring him was the only power you had left, the only way to keep the anger from spilling over, from breaking you down entirely. And if he thought he could continue on as if the past two weeks hadn’t happened, then he was going to learn just how wrong he was.

Nicolas cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “Hi, you two—we’ve got a lot to go over, and the timeline is tight. The engagement is in five days, and the wedding is scheduled for a week after that. So we need to finalize the details today—food, decorations, dresses, the guest list…”

You couldn’t focus. The words blurred together a dull hum in the background as you stared down at the table. Rafe said something, his voice casual, but you tuned it out. You didn’t want to hear him.

Sabrina spoke next, her tone brighter, more enthusiastic. “The audience is really enjoying you together, by the way. Ever since your date, and especially after the pictures from Kelce’s party where you two were cuddled up? People are in love with the idea of you and Rafe together. So, good job, guys.”

Your stomach churned at her words. Cuddled up. Like you were some happy couple.

“And tomorrow,” she continued. “You’ll need to make another public appearance together. It’s a charity event for cancer awareness. A perfect opportunity for more good press. The public is expecting you two to show up as the perfect couple—affectionate, in love, all of that.”

In love.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood. This was the part where you were supposed to smile and nod, agree to hold his hand and play the role of the devoted future fiancée. But all you felt was the tension building, the weight of the lie pressing down on you until it was suffocating.

Rafe shifted in his seat, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you still didn’t look at him. Rafe felt an uneasy twist in his stomach. You looked… different. Disheveled, almost. Your sweater hung losely over your shoulders, practically swallowing your frame, and he could see dark shadows under your eyes that hadn’t been there before. You seemed smaller somehow, your usual energy muted, replaced by something tense and fragile.

Rafe’s gaze dropped to your hands, noticing how your fingers fidgeted restlessly, twisting and tugging at your sleeves. Your leg was bouncing under the table, tapping out an anxious rhythm that only he seemed to notice. Every small movement, every nervous habit—you looked like you were holding yourself back, like there was something simmering beneath the surface, ready to break free.

You still hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t given him a single glance, and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit. You’d been messaging him, and he’d been… well, avoiding it, convincing himself it was for the best. But seeing you now, seeing the wear and tear he’d left behind, he couldn’t shake the guilt.

Rafe’s chest tightened. He’d expected you to be angry, maybe annoyed. But this? You looked worn down, frayed at the edges, like you've been carrying a weight no one else could see.

You didn’t remember most of the details they were talking about. Your mind drifted in and out of focus as they went on about the guest list, the food, the decorations. All you heard were words—dresses, flowers, venues. None of it felt real. It was as if you were watching someone else’s life unfold in front of you, just sitting there, an outsider in your own story.

“The wedding will be televised, of course,” Sabrina says, flipping through her notes, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of it all. “And with a full press presence. We want every detail to reflect both of your public personas. Elegant, grand, but also with an intimate, personal feel—something that tells a story about who you both are.”

Who we were. I almost laughed at the irony. I didn't even know who I was right now, much less who we were.

“We were thinking of something grand but elegant. A modern luxury wedding. White roses, lots of gold accents. Maybe something at the estate in the Hamptons?”

You glanced at the board, at all the glossy, pristine images of weddings that could belong to anyone. None of them felt like you.

“Do you have any preferences?” Sabrina asked, smiling like this is the most exciting conversation in the world. “Colors, themes, anything that’s important to you?”

"Actually," you finally broke your silence, your voice coming out quietly, but the words landing heavily in the room. "I’d like the ceremony to reflect... my background." You could feel Rafe's eyes on you again, but for once, you didn’t care. This wasn’t about him.

Sabrina blinked, taken aback, but she quickly nodded, jotting down notes as if she were open to whatever you had in mind. "Of course, that could be beautiful. Were you thinking about specific details?"

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain if they’d take you seriously, but you pressed on. "Yes. The colors… the decorations. I want there to be vibrant colors—not just whites and pastels, but deep greens, maroons, and gold. The way we’d have them back home. And for the flowers… jasmine and roses. That’s what we use for weddings where I’m from. I want it to feel like... like part of my heritage."

Nicolas raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn’t expected you to care about any of this. But he just nodded, his pen moving across his notepad. "We can definitely arrange that. A traditional, multicultural theme would add a unique touch to the event, I think. It’ll definitely resonate with the press and the viewers."

You didn’t care if it resonated. It wasn’t for them—it was for you, a sliver of authenticity in this whole farce.

Then Sabrina’s voice broke into your thoughts. "And of course, the dress. Have you given any thought to what you want? Or would you like us to arrange for a stylist to go over options with you?"

Your heart twisted at the mention of the dress. The one thing you’d always imagined as a girl—the dress you’d wear at your own wedding. Only, you’d never thought it would be for this.

"I’d like to include some of my culture there too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe... a fusion. Something elegant and modern but with hints of traditional South Asian bridal elements. Like embroidery or... beadwork. Maybe even henna if it wouldn’t look out of place."

Sabrina seemed to light up at the idea. "That would be stunning. We can definitely work with that! I know several designers who specialize in fusing traditional and contemporary styles."

She was still talking, but the air around you felt thicker, as though the room was closing in. You could sense Rafe’s gaze without even looking at him, the weight of his silence pressing into you.

You zoned out again, your mind wandering back to the last wedding you attended. The colors, the music, the way the bride’s lehenga shimmered under the sun as she walked down the aisle. You’d always thought your wedding would be like that—full of life and celebration, surrounded by people who loved you.

Instead, you were planning a wedding for the cameras, for people who didn’t know you.

The sudden, sharp knock on the door cut through the stillness like a jolt of cold water. Your head shot up from the pillow, heart hammering in your chest. For a moment, the world felt like it was still. The quiet of your apartment, the thick fog still clouding your thoughts. You didn’t want to get up. You didn’t want to face the world outside of this bed, this cocoon of emptiness you’d wrapped yourself in for days.

Another knock, this one louder, more demanding.

“Y/N!” Nina’s voice came through the door, sharp and impatient. “You better not still be in bed, because I swear—”

The door swung open before you could even make a sound, Nina storming in, wearing the same determined, unbothered expression she always had when she was on a mission. You tried to bury your face back into the pillow, but she wasn’t having it. Her hand reached down, grabbing the covers and yanking them off with force. You shivered as the cold air hit your skin, the warmth of the blankets yanked away along with any shred of comfort you’d been clinging to.

“Get up.” Nina wasn’t asking. She was commanding. “You’ve got a charity event today, and Rafe is already at the venue. We don’t have time for your pity party.”

You squinted at her, still half-wrapped in your sheets like a burrito, and mumbled from underneath the pillow, “Can’t you just… I don’t know… handle it for me? Go in my place. You’d look great in a gown.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I’d look amazing, but you and I both know I don’t have that kind of charisma.”

“True,” you admitted, peeking out from under the pillow.

Nina raised her hands in mock surrender. “Exactly. Now, up. I’m not playing with you today.”

Before you could even protest, she yanked the covers off you with a dramatic flourish, leaving you to shiver in nothing but your oversized T-shirt. It was a miracle you didn’t roll off the bed in the process.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.” Nina didn’t wait for you to even get a grip on reality before heading straight for your closet, rummaging through your clothes like she was on a mission. “You’re going to look so good today that Rafe might just start thinking you actually like him.”

You shot her a glare that could’ve frozen water, but she just smirked, tossing a black dress onto the bed like she was some fashion fairy sent to save you from yourself.

“I’m not going,” you said flatly.

“Oh, yes, you are.” Nina threw a matching pair of heels onto the bed with the same casual flick of the wrist she used to dismiss your protests. “Because you will look stunning, and you will show up.”

You sat up slowly, rubbing your face. “What is it with you people? Why does everyone keep trying to drag me out of bed? It’s like I’m the world’s most reluctant celebrity.”

“Because you are.” Nina grinned, holding up your dress like she was presenting the Holy Grail. “But, hey, guess what? You’re really good at it. So stop sulking and get your glam on. You’re the star of the show today.”

You let out a theatrical sigh. “Oh, joy.”

Nina didn’t even flinch. “I’m not asking for a performance. Just put on the damn dress and show up. You can pretend to be miserable, and I’ll pretend I’m not a miracle worker for getting you out of here.”

You hesitated for just a moment, then dragged yourself out of bed with a grunt. “Fine.”

“Oh, by the way, Aisha’s going to be there. She practically begged me to make sure you show.”

Your eyes snapped open. Aisha Patel. Your best friend and, quite honestly, the only person in your life who could drag you out of bed with a single text. She’s been your best friend since you’d arrived in the States. She’d been away for five months—longer than ever before—working on some high-profile project in Switzerland. You hadn’t seen her in ages.

“You’re kidding,” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Aisha’s coming?”

Nina smiled smugly. “Yep. She’s flown back for the event. Can you imagine the drama if you don’t show up? She’ll never let you live it down.”

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. “God, I missed her.”

“Me too,” Nina said, her voice softening for just a second. “But you still have to get up. Like now.”

You looked at the dress Nina had already picked out, a sleek white gown that somehow made you feel both glamorous and like you were about to attend a royal gala. “Fine. I’m up. I’m dressed.”

Nina, who was already rummaging through your closet like a pro, grinned. “You look absolutely beautiful, honey,” she noticed your weight loss but decided to not speak on it, in fear it’ll make you relapse… if only she knew. “Chiara’s also going to be there...”

You froze, the mention of Chiara Romano sending a cold shiver down your spine. You’d told Nina everything about the Chiara encounter—her subtle digs, the way she made you feel like you were just another passing phase in Rafe’s life. She’d made things uncomfortable enough at Kelce’s party, and now you had to face her again?

“What? Fucking why?”

“Her father’s the one running the whole damn event,” she explained. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her or her family because they’re pretty famous, especially in the entertainment and events world. So, get ready for a day full of small talk, fake smiles, and people who will pry into your private life.”

You sighed. “How perfect is that?”

You stood in front of the mirror, trying to shake off the heavy weight of everything swirling in your head. You glanced at the clock. You were running out of time.

You reached for your hair tie, pulling it through your tangled locks. Your hair had grown longer than you remembered, and you decided to tie it up in a messy, yet elegant bun—one that would allow a few soft, curly strands to escape and frame your face. It was casual but chic—classic you. You let a few strands fall loosely, giving the bun a less formal, more effortless vibe. After a moment of satisfaction, you moved on to the makeup.

A soft, dewy glow covered your skin, nothing too dramatic. You didn’t want to feel caked in layers today, just enough to enhance your features. You applied a touch of blush to your cheeks, just a hint, to keep the look fresh. A thin line of mascara lengthened your lashes, and your signature lip combo was the finishing touch. Simple. Comfortable.

As you turned to check yourself one last time, you heard Nina's voice from the other room.

“Y/N! We need to go now. Rafe's texting me and he’s getting antsy. He’s apparently already at the event!”

You sighed, feeling the familiar rush of anxiety settle into your stomach. The mirror reflected a version of you that was ready for the world, but the world, especially tonight, wasn’t ready for this version of you. But as the pressure of the event built up, you couldn’t deny the uncertainty gnawing at you.

When you made your way into the living room, Nina was pacing, her phone glued to her ear. She shot you a quick, approving glance. “Looking good. Let’s go.”

As you grabbed your clutch, ready to face whatever tonight had in store, the doorbell rang. Your heart skipped a beat. Was it Aisha? Maybe she’d arrived early, wanting to meet up before the event?

But when you opened the door, your breath caught.

Standing in the doorway wasn’t Aisha.

It was Rafe.

He was in a suit—sharp, looking like he belonged in a magazine ad for high-end fashion—but his eyes, dark and intense, held something more than just a desire to impress. He had the look of a man who knew he had messed up.

His words hit you before you could even process them. “You look stunning. I wanted to make sure you’re okay... before all this.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart thump a little faster, and you hated yourself for it.

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stood there, blinking at him. You hadn’t expected him to show up—especially not with that kind of intensity in his eyes.

You exhaled slowly, your arms instinctively crossing over your chest, your posture defensive. The audacity of this guy.

“Really?” You scoffed, trying to mask the vulnerability creeping up your spine with sharp sarcasm. “Now you care?”

Rafe seemed to falter at that, but he quickly recovered, taking a small step closer, but not enough to make you feel cornered. “I’ve always cared, Y/N. You know that.” His voice was quieter this time, and the sincerity in his eyes almost made your resolve crack.

“Do I?” you shot back, stepping out of the doorway and giving him a once-over, your gaze icy. “Because you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe winced, a flash of guilt flickering in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “I messed up, okay? I should’ve reached out. I didn’t know what to say, but I should’ve just... shown up.”

You rolled your eyes, the anger simmering beneath your skin rising again. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, not from the sight of him, but from the frustration that had been building over the past two weeks. “You didn’t know what to say? You think showing up fixes two weeks of silence? Just like that?”

He took a step forward, his face tightening, as though he was bracing himself for a confrontation. "I wasn’t sure what to do," he said, his voice lowering. "I thought... maybe you needed space. I thought if I gave you time, it would be better." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his expression. “I was trying to do the right thing.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the audacity of his words settling like a lump in your throat. “Space?” you asked, your voice low, incredulous. “You thought ghosting me for two weeks would give me space?”

Rafe’s face twisted in guilt, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to let him off the hook.

“Did you at least see my texts?” you demanded, anger rising in your throat.

"Y/N, you’re needed at the car right now!" Nina called, stopping Rafe in his tracks of answering. Before you could walk away, Rafe reached out, his hand closing around your wrist, pulling you back gently.

"Wait," he murmured, his thumb brushing your skin.

You stared up at Rafe, your breath caught in your throat, uncertainty swirling in your chest. The air between you two felt charged, a thousand unspoken questions hanging in the balance. Your pulse was racing, but before you could voice any of them, Nina practically shoved you both into the elevator. Her hand pressed the button for the ground floor as she threw your heels at you, the sharp click of the stilettos punctuating the tension.

You caught them on instinct. The elevator descended, and your mind was still spiraling, trying to piece together what the hell was happening. What the fuck—this distance between you and Rafe?

But just as the elevator doors opened, the sound of a familiar car door slamming outside caught your attention. A quiet thud, followed by the sound of heels clicking against pavement. Your instincts were on alert, an uneasy feeling crawling under your skin.

And when you turned to look, you saw someone stepping out of the car.

Someone who shouldn’t be here.

“I was wondering when we’d get the chance to catch up.”

chapter seven

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joltik-is-a-smol-bean · 2 days ago

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fist things first there will be alot of dividers separating these questions they can all be found Here

This gets long so questions are under the cut!

TWs FOR MENTIONS OF BLOOD AND MEATS!

how many _types do you have?

1 if you only count Vampire, 3 if you count the Werebat paratype and Coyotehearted

when was your awakening? & for how long do you know about your identity?

Vampire back in 2013, Coyotehearted in 2020, Werebat October this year lol

is your _type real or fictional?

Coyote is real obviously, Werebat is fictional, vampire is kind of both as a Sanguinarian I elaborate more on that over on my main blog @sangaverage mostly under

#Irl vampire or #Actually vampiric

do you enjoy being a […] (Just put your label here)

Yes actually! Sorry that answer is so short lol

what's the reason of your identity? You can say that you don't know.

Coyotehearted is because I have such a connection with them! They are fairly misunderstood creatures with such rebellious attitudes and malicious compliance towards humanity it's hard not to love them for it!

Werebat Paratype connects with my vampiric identity I get alot of bat wings in my meditations and other spiritual stuff so I equated the two.

Vampire is because I am a Sanguinarian, Basically an unknown condition that makes us need blood to feel better, the widley considered theory is because there is something in the blood that our bodies have trouble producing on its own, hence the use of the word Vampire, that's a rather simple explanation but again it'll be over on the main blog so I won't go too much into it here!

are you also a part of the LGBT+ community? & does your _type have a different gender/sex than you? Do you even know your _type's gender?

Yep I'm Demisexual and recently questioning pansexual because at the end of the day for me it doesn't matter what you identify as or your orientation is, so long as it's legal, if love/attraction happens then whatever it happens! It just takes a little extra time and a personal connection to get there lol.

All is the same gender/ sex as me

do you think that you were born with your identity or has it "started" during your life?

Vampire is at birth for me but I needed to awaken into it, the other two were 'discovered' for lack of a better term

do you experience shifts? If yes, what kind of shifts do you experience most often? & do you own any gear? If yes, what is it?

wings in meditation, fangs just randomly, 'Twoofs/ 'vamping out' when I'm on need of blood/ energy (again more on my main)

Yep, Vampire has fangs A Legacy Ankh and a few other bits of jewellery, coyote has some ears, werebat has nothing yet really...

is your _type more nocturnal or does it prefer daytime, what is your _type's natural territory/home & is your _type an animal?

All are rather nocturnal to varying degrees, all seem to like the forest especially foggy/ at night, coyote and werebat are obviously animal, vampire certainly behaves like it!

what are your beliefs? Does it affect your identity, does your identity affect your everyday life, how? & does your _type affect your diet?

I assume you mean spiritual beliefs? I am a demonolator and eclectic Witchcraft practitioner, I also practice vampire magick due to my Vampiric identity as a Sanguinarian.

I am technically hybrid as I have learned to psychic feed somewhat, but it's not as 'filling'...

I Don't know about everyday life but due to being Sanguinarian I do need to feed on either something bloody or energy every now and again, my feeding average is once or twice monthly! As such this also affects my diet, only to a small degree but things with high heme iron tend to help if I can't have blood/ blood foods.

(disclaimer I do not condone people randomly try blood drinking but as a Sanguinarian it does help me medically somehow, what you do is up to you bit I will not be held responsible/accountable please be safe as I am, all food and 'donations' are thoroughly prepared/tested as to remove/prevent diseases)

do you have alterhuman friends? If yes, in real life or in the internet?

Yep in real life, S/O is wolfhearted and a close friend is either raccoonhearted or racoon Therian they are still questioning.

Alex's alterhuman ask game!

Reblog this post to let others ask you question(s)!

I tried to make this accesible to all alterhumans.

🌈 - how many _types do you have?

🌌 - when was your awakening?

👾 - is your _type real or fictional?

👽 - do you enjoy being a […] (therian, otherkin, ect. Just put your label here)

🧷 - what's the reason of your identity? You can say that you don't know. (Ex. "My theriantrophy is spiritual)

💚 - what are your beliefs? Does it affect your identity?

⚧️ - does your _type have a different gender/sex than you? Do you even know your _type's gender?

🧤 - do you own any gear? If yes, what is it?

🏳️‍🌈 - are you also a part of the LGBT+ community?

🌚 - do you experience shifts? If yes, what kind of shifts do you experience most often?

🌝 - how does your identity affect your everyday life?

💊 - is your _type more nocturnal or does it prefer daytime?

🤖 - for how long do you know about your identity?

🍁 - do you think that you were born with your identity or has it "started" during your life?

🧸 - does your _type affect your diet?

🛍️ - do you have alterhuman friends? If yes, in real life or in the internet?

🍂 - what is your _type's natural territory/home?

😺 - is your _type an animal?

That's all byeeee :3

#i did a thing #reblogs #Answers etc #Alterhuman stuff #Alterhuman questions #coyotehearted #vampire alterhuman #blood mention

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petriwriting · 3 days ago

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Amortentia - Theodore Nott X Reader

Summary: Learning about amortentia in class

“And with the correct blend of ingridients, does anyone know what is created?” Professor snape asks in his brass tone. A hufflepuff girl raises her hand very hesitantly. “Yes?” He points to to the girl with a gesture. “It’s a live potion.” She says tenderly. “Correct.” Snape retorts, before awarding hufflepuff house a whole 5 points.

You and Theo are standing next to each other, curiously gazing at the cauldron that’s emitting a pink glow very curiously. “The two of you,” professor snape gestures again. You and Theo are first in disbelief, but then you each step forward. “One at a time, I want you to lean forward and describe to me the distinct scent of this potion.” He says.

“Yes professor,” you say. “I’ll go first.” Theodore says. She leans forward into the cauldron, and a pleasant scent fills his senses. “It’s like,” he pursed his lips in thought before continuing. “Lavendar… Cloves, and fresh rain.” He says finally.

“Very well, your turn ms/mr L/N.”

You step forward just has Theodore had, and take a moment to inhale. “. . .It’s warm, it smells like a campfire, cedar… and lemongrass, old books, tobacco.” It was an odd but unique mix that was comforting, familiar almost.

“Does anyone know why Mr. Nott and Mr/Ms L/N are picking up these particular scents?” Professor snape asks. Expecting someone to answer. You step forward after a bit of awkward silence. For a brilliant potions master, he could sure be intimidating sometimes. You could recall from this last lecture; “The scents are whatever the person thinks to be attractive or alluring.” You explain. Professor snape nods. “Excellent.” He cooes.

Your house is awarded 10 points. The remainder of the class felt like a blur, you were tired less engaged during the second half of the class, though when dismissed you were finally able to sigh in relief.

Theodore, whom had been your best friend since your first year noticed the shift in your mood. “You okay?” He says, packing his satchel with his potion making tools for class, his textbook and notes. “Yeah, just tired is all.” You said quietly, gathering your things as well.

“Maybe you can get some rest this afternoon then.” Theodore offered gently. He had always been kind to you in that way. “Maybe.” You lean back putting your hands on the table, brushing theo’s hand which was already there.

Although this was an accident you felt a jolt of energy and your heart began to race. The busy classroom died down until it was just the two of you standing there in an empty classroom. He didn’t move his hand. You smiled softly.

He caught your eyes, his gaze was soft and he slowly leaned in, taking a auick peek at your lips. You did the same until your faces were inches apart.

You would have totally kissed. If it were the poor kid who forgot his book who came back into the classroom. You each pulled away slightly as the student uttered a quick “so sorry.” And rushed back outside.

You and theo chuckled. You liked being so close to him. You could smell that funny scent from the potion from the first part of class start to fill your senses, campfire… cedar… lemongrass… old books… tobacco. You brushed it off, thinking maybe it was some coincidental thing. Or a mind trick. But professor snap had did away with the cauldron and the concoction already… it was strange. You were rattled in thoughts.

“Well, I ought to get going.” Theodore said. “Meet me outside common room tonight, 8 O’clock, and we’ll chat then. Yeah?” He offered. You were still enamored with yourself. “Yeah, Yeah that sounds great.”

“I’ll see you then.” Theodore said slowly making his way away. It took you a few seconds before you realized what was happening. The scent was there when you were about to kiss him, it wasn’t just the cauldron.. and you thought back to when you had answered professor snape. It hit you all at once in a sudden moment, you facepalmed and laughed in disbelief at yourself. It’s smells like whatever is attractive for you, it smells like someone you love… And you were in love, oh Merlin were you in love.

What you did not consider, was what Theodore was thinking. And how you were wearing lavender and clove scented perfume that day.

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occamstfs · 16 hours ago

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What You Really Want

Milo mouths off about a man dating his long time crush before immediately learning the lesson that he should be less trusting of strange voices promising to fulfill his desires

Pretty standard straight to gay himbo/jockification! It will also be my final story for some time I believe, so I do hope you enjoy! -Occam

“It’s no fair that they literally have it all.” Like many a ‘nice guy’ Milo has spent an inordinate amount of time skulking social media and disparaging more physically gifted men as he stumbles across them. The root of his despair is not difficult to ascertain, his eyes burning with envy make quite clear the inner monologue of ‘girls always date assholes.’ He sneers as he comes across the most recent post of his friend and crush, Juliet. The jealous man of course knows next to nothing about the character of James, the jock-type now dating her, but judging by the gleaming smirk and the bulky arms of a killer hanging from his shoulders, the judgemental dweeb has more than enough evidence to speculate.

Delving into his memories, Milo’s face burns with embarrassment as he recalls mentioning his crush to Juliet, ‘Oh!’ her bright eyes shift uncomfortably and her cheeks begin to blush enough to match the pink tint she threw on this morning. Milo’s fist clenches as she almost giggles in her discomfort, ‘sorry Milo I guess- Well, I guess I just thought you were gay?’ After this Milo played it cool, he thinks. Hand scratching the back of his head as he asserts his straight identity and the two go on to have a meal far more quiet and awkward than usual. When new-boyfriend James comes to pick up Juliet, Milo forces a smile before staring daggers at his back as the pair walk away.

This brings us to the present hate scrolling session in which Milo is more than absorbed. Lips curl into a sneer as he traces the impossible to ignore curves of this must-be dullard’s defined body. Milo scoffs as he sees the litany of women that must make up the man’s dating history. “Bet they won’t even last a week, ha! I mean judging by how much the douche spends in the gym I bet he’s just using her as a beard anyway.”

With this final rather homophobic assertion, the nerd’s phone flashes before going dark, “What the-” before he has to determine whatever caused this, he goes stiff as a strange voice resounds through his head. ‘Tired of all the big boys getting what they want, hmm?’ Immediately concerned he’s lost his mind, Milo gets to powering back on his phone to call for help. ‘Now now, Milo. Do not worry your little head. I am here to help. Would you not like the chance to be just like them?’ Just like them. Envy burns through his veins greater than anything. Sensing this immediately, whatever this voice is seizes upon his clearly fragile psyche, its laughter steely and alien, ‘Ah ha ha. I thought so.’

Dropping his phone once more, Milo tries to drill the voice, “Wh- what are you exactly. Are you a dem- hm, an angel?” The voice answers almost before he even finishes the thought, ‘It matters not what I am. All that matters are your desires. Now. Do you wish to be all you desire, all this James embodies? All that he is in your head.” Miles gulps and almost starts drooling at the idea, just like James. Women at his fingertips whenever he wants, a body sculpted by the gods while keeping a far better mind than that oaf could ever afford. With next to no hesitation or forethought, Milo nods and the world goes dark.

When he awakens the poorly mannered man finds it’s the next day. His phone rests in his hand and when opened he finds it zoomed in on a picture of James’ meaty bicep. Milo rolls his eyes and tosses his phone aside before going to stand. Making it halfway up he grunts in pain as he only then discovers morning wood more pressing and turgid than he’s ever encountered. Falling back down he clutches at the pain in his crotch from his cock being forcibly yanked by his underwear. Hands now grasping it he gasps as he finds it filling them far more than it has any right to.

Well now, while they’re already down there he might as well have some fun right? After briefly struggling to get his waistband over his swollen package his mouth falls open in shock as he’s finally able to appraise the almost unrecognizable cock hanging from his crotch. It’s like none he’s seen before, not that he generally observes dicks of course. Far more impressive than he imagined a dick could be. His fingertips can scarcely meet his palm when he tries to grasp it, and as he begins rubbing it it feels leagues more sensitive than it has before now, as if nerve endings are multiplying. Looking to his awaiting phone he sees the photo of James and what’s her name as he begins masturbating outright.

Seeing a bulge in James’ strained pants he grunts as he returns to stare at his own suddenly substantial cock. More like him. The already thicker rod strains as he reflexively humps into his hand, forcing his grip wider as it expands to simply need more room. The new veins painting the length of his nascent ten inch dick surge higher up its length as he swears he can see them pulse and bulge with each racing heartbeat. Beneath his thrusting hands, bouncing as his hips continue to forcefully thrust with more strength than he has, his balls similarly grow heavier, larger as they send hormones flowing through him enough to metamorphosize and, more immediately, cause pre to stream and coat his fingers.

Milo leans his head back as he is bursting with a need for release greater than he can understand. He shifts his jaw as it twinges with the pleasure of growth, widening and strengthening into one fit for titan. Below his newly defined chin, his neck thickens and moans grow deeper as an Adam's apple bulges out of his throat. Hearing his voice echo deeper throughout his bedroom, his heady pleasure comes to a head as he is struck with the bizarre urge to lick the pre off his fingers. Before he’s able to acquire or express shock and disgust, his eyes blast open and he is again staring at the image of James, more like- and he blows his load.

The moment of release may as well have shut him down once more, pleasure overloads him like a flashbang as every inch of his body feels at once. Drool drips from his plumper lips as his mind is fried and his hips continue to thrust without any input or awareness, sending stains across his wall and splattering into his darker hair as it begins to pull shorter and tint darker. Eyebrows thicken and cover more of his forehead as his brow hangs lower over his eyes staining brown and growing duller.

His whole form tenses as he finally achieves release, staring at the image of his, uh, competition. Arms flex as his hands crack wider, fingers stretch longer, skin grows rougher. For the first time in his life definition appears on his arms, biceps and triceps compete for which can increase faster, which can catch more eyes, which can rival those alluring arms of James. Beneath shoulders packing on weight are pits that darken with curls now thicker, a deeper brown nearing black as the forest strives to prevent any light from breaking the canopy. Similarly they moisten with the masculine heady musk that they are perfectly designed to disseminate, powerful enough to allure any twink towards his dick, or uh, huh.

Milo moans as this seemingly intrusive thought makes itself at home in his morphing psyche. Barely returning to sentience enough to realize the stray gay thought, he arches his back and stretches as if he were waking up. Mindlessly he wipes the cum staining his larger hands on the new dark treasure trail as it itches and slowly inches up from pubes unshaved. Feeling the hint of an Adonis belt he sits up with a shock, the feeling of something he has long envied bringing back his awareness.

Despite the obvious differences it takes far too long for him to be aware of, to truly notice what has become of him. He struggles to make sense of the effort it takes to move his new larger limbs. He grabs at his new hair and sucks drool through his teeth as he tries to understand how it’s changed texture and color so totally, did he dye it and forget or what? The gears in his mind slowly turn as his fingers move to scratch an itch under his arms, struggling through the dank jungle of curls. Thoughtlessly he brings his sweat-wet fingers to his nose and grimaces. “Fuck man, I smell like an, uh, like a, unnh-” he moans quietly as he’s unable to even finish the sentence, instead an image of James forces its way to the front of his mind and two now-malnourished brain cells spark together and strain to form a thought.

“Oh fuck I’m turning into a imbe-, an uh imbekle? Ugh, an uh- a dumb jock.” Milo bites his lips and flexes an arm to try and assuage his nerves, to get his attention focused on anything but his anxieties. Fortunately to this end, seeing his bulging biceps he feels his larger cock begin to stir. Some semblance of rationality knows ceding to his wanting package is probably what led to this encroaching fog over his mind. His skin begins to prickle as all-around it grows more sensitive. Beyond these skin deep sensations it also seems as if darker hairs are beginning to spread out wherever his follicles will allow.

Seeing hair beginning to prickle his chest and blanket his legs his mind produces images of hairy men he has leered at through the years. His neck twitches as whatever dregs of the pathetic skirtchaser he once was rise up and try to combat his new predilections. He’s straight, he’s always been straight. Right? His mouth goes dry as he tries to remember ever having dated a woman in the past. Barring that, only just able to recall that something is happening to him, only just able to remember that he is transforming into some alien self, Milo tries to produce an image of what he used to look like. And he cannot.

His mouth falls open as it often does whenever he struggles to produce a thought, making it almost his default state. Mouth-breathing mouth ajar he fully experiences the thick air of his bedroom as it fills with his new musk. The room around him begins to dissolve and reform into surroundings that reinforce who he is now, that prove this is who he has always been. Clean pressed laundry dirty and shift into unwashed gym clothes that help cloud the room with his stink. Posters of whatever movies and video games he enjoys corrupt into images celebrating the impressive male form, all distinctly stained from the years of hanging on Milo’s bedroom walls. He hears clanking outside of his bedroom as bookshelves collapse and reform into weights heavier than he would be able to lift.

Milo stumbles to his larger feet and ignores the hefty weight of his balls and cock bobbing in the air as he drags himself out of his bedroom to find a mirror. He leaves sweaty footprints larger than any shoes he owns on the tile of the bathroom as he bumbles in. Leaning over the sink his lips quiver as he sees a razor clogged with hair darker than he feels he should have. Sooner than the doubts arrive they vacate as a thick, stubbled beard rapidly bursts onto his face. Looking up he smirks as he sees a thick mustache surges over his upper lip, looking just like the ones he appreciates, just like he has always been into. His eye twitches and he grunts as his hair retracts once more into something far more intentional and stylish. At the same time pecs suddenly bulge larger and hang lower as Milo leans heavier over the bathroom sink.

His eyes glaze over as complex thoughts once more become too elusive in the face of his rising lusts. Muscles bulge larger as his back and legs creak, stretching him taller as thighs and shoulders widen and continue putting on mass. Feet spread like fins on the floor as his hands widen and sweatily slide on the ceramic sink. His mouth continues to water as he inspects all these increasingly masculine changes and his cock continues to throb. Milo bites his lip as new sensations arise from his cock once more, this time the change is apparent as his foreskin regrows, making his cock look even thicker as its head grows hooded and he struggles not to immediately break into masturbation at the powerful image of his own seductive form.

Milo’s barely functioning mind struggles to argue for any reason to not just return to the immeasurable delights of gratifying his all-encompassing urges. He stays his hands for a moment before the greatest horror yet rears its head. A monologue begins in his mind that is not his own, that cannot be his own. Dull laughter echoes through his increasingly vacant mind as a voice even slower and deeper than that which sounds from his new vocal chords, “Yooo broo come onnnnn. Give up, give in. This is what you wanted, ‘s what we wanted huhuhuh.”

He feels a pressure in his balls as they almost churn with the otherworldly need that seemingly always flows through him. He can’t help but imagine the men he’s going to bed with his new endowment, how many cocks he’s going to take in his new powerful ass. Drool trickles from his lips through the dense black stubble that coats his face denser with each second, with each breath. Spit continues down the length of his more defined face before dripping onto weighty, similarly furred pecs. His heavier hands slowly creep towards the hardening cock standing tall and long from the jungle of pubes. Before he’s able to assist his thrusting hips however, his lusty haze is interrupted by his phone chiming. His mind immediately thinks it must be James which fills him with conflicting emotions of rage and giddiness. “Ohh bro maybe he’s inviting us over. It’s been toooo long since we fucked huhuh-”

Milo pointedly tries to ignore his hairier, bulkier reflection as he stumbles out of the bathroom to check his phone. Unfortunately he catches a glimpse which makes it all the more difficult to ignore the throbbing weight dripping, almost pouring, pre onto the floor. Despite it all he stands strong, quieting this other voice as it urgently tries to convince him to give in before he’s able to pick up his phone. In a final act of resistance, or perhaps impotence, he has the lofty idea of calling for help before his mind goes completely blank and, seeing the notification, he instinctually goes to his messages to find who texted him. It’s Juliet!

First his heart flutters before he’s absolutely confused at the sensation. She’s just his bestie? Weird. He shakes off whatever that was and gets on to reading the message, “heyy girlie- which of these do you want me to post? Oh ya and lmao, are you and james cool if I do the last one?” At the mention of James his pulse again races and there are butterflies in his stomach far more powerful than whatever bizarre feelings he had but moments ago. No time to dwell, Milo starts swiping through the images sent. They’re a photoset of their little group outing to a halloween party last week, the trio, Milo, James and Jules dressed up as a group, as X-men! Respectively dressed as Wolverine, Cyclops and Jean Grey.

He smirks as he starts chubbing up again thinking of how easily he was able to pass as the hairy beast. His eyes then return to see James’ bubble butt in trademark spandex, which only makes it harder to not lose control then and there, moaning as he imagines playing with that ass. Holding to whatever well of willpower remains within him Milo holds strong and keeps his hands above waist level. Finally he gets to the specific image Juliet mentioned, one of him and James messily making out on the dance floor. James yanks at the hairy Milo’s hair, visor half hanging off as Milo reciprocates by shoving his hand into James’ pants. Fuck that’s hot.

Without even touching his needy cock, without any pleading from the new voice in his head, without a single chance to hold back. Simply from seeing the steamy image of him and James, Milo’s mind is overrun with memories and desires of the new man he is. The man he ever was and always will be. And for the second time today, but not the last, he loses control. Cum splatters against his phone as his mind goes blank anew with rushing pleasure. Painting himself once more with his most-used utensil he laughs dumbly as he realizes how swiftly he just came. Almost with pathetic haste, though now he’s quite unfamiliar with any sense of shame. The voice that only just wormed its way into his head spills from his mouth as it fully and forevermore wrests control as the true Milo.

“Huhuhuh guess I should work on my hair trigger,” He grunts as he looks at his phone and texts back some variation of ‘girl that’s porn you can’t post that!!!’ he turns his mind where it goes more often than anywhere in his new life. He wonders what James is doing and immediately texts him. Waiting for a reply Milo heads off to the gym to get a pump in before presumably going to meet him, not worrying about cleaning up or covering his scent. The gym’s for smelling like a man right? He certainly wouldn’t mind if everyone else followed his lead huhuh. Milo bites his lip trying to ignore his hardening cock as he makes his way out of the apartment clad in too-tight, stained gym clothes.

Before he even makes it out the complex he gets a text from James and promptly changes course. Immediately Milo’s racing down the street to his lover’s apartment. Cock already snaking down his shorts and creating a stain at its nadir, Milo hopes he can keep his needy cock at bay until he makes it. Thinking of the alternative work out he’s to enjoy in bed with James, Milo struggles to not moan obscenely as he waddles as quickly as he can into the lobby of James’ building. Heart racing with excitement he can’t wait to see James in person. Jittery with nerves, it feels like he’s going to meet the man for the first time. Hah! Milo promptly ignores the idea and starts to get some stretching in before their session. Trying to practice mindfulness with a mind thicker than mud he quickly finds himself possessed with memories of their countless times fucking in the past. Easy enough as the pair have been doing so for years. Still nerves assail him as his cock continues to strain his shorts. As the elevator doors click open he smirks as he was able to make it this far without blowing his third load of the day. His cock throbs with anticipation for its release soon to come, and impatiently awaits each and every similar session to follow.

#male tf #mental change #straight to gay #male transformation #hair growth #muscle tf #jockification #dumber #reality change

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darlingdaisyfarm · 3 days ago

Note

more mad scientist ford?? he does stuff to us PLEASE

im not very proud of my writing and ideas, im sorry

tags: sexual themes, injection, syringe, experiment, slapping, fem reader

⚛︎ :•.🧪 mad scientist!Ford

You’re sitting on the edge of his lab table, your legs swinging slightly, fingers gripping the cold metal edge because of nervousness. The sterile, sharp smell of antiseptic and strange chemicals fills the air, while Ford is focused on a task, meticulously preparing his latest experiment.

You try to exude nonchalance, crossing your legs and shifting on the table, but your heart races beneath your calm facade. The moment he glances your way, it feels like being placed under a microscope, scrutinized and exposed in the most intimate way.

“Well, well, well,” Ford’s voice is low and smooth and he straightens, finally directing his full attention at you. His gloved hands adjust the mask covering his mouth and he lifts a syringe filled with a luminous green liquid that glows like toxic emeralds. The eerie glow of his lab lights casts sharp shadows over his face, making his expression look even more predatory. “why so scared, darling?"

His voice, muffled slightly through the mask, sounds mocking, amused as he steps closer. “don’t tell me you’re worried about growing an extra finger?” he holds up one of his gloved hands, wiggling his six fingers with a smirk.

You bite your lip, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact, to stay still despite the gleaming needle hovering dangerously near. “No, not scared,” you manage to whisper, your voice softer than you intended, laden with a mixture of fear and something close to excitement.

He tilts his head. “Oh? playing brave, are we?” his gloved hand grips your thigh, fingers pressing enough to keep you still.

“Hold still, darling,” he brings the syringe closer to your skin, hovering just above your arm. “It’ll only hurt if you move.”

“Doctor Pines, wait—” you breathe, panic creeping into your chest.

“Relax, sweetheart, you’ll be just fine. Just a little poke.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. Your breath catches as the needle breaks the skin, sharp, immediate, sending a sting through you. You wince, lips parting as the burn of whatever he’s injected starts to settle in, spreading like a strange warmth under your skin.

“There you go, just like that,” he whispers, tracing his fingers over your arm, lingering on your skin with a slow touch, as if rewarding you for your compliance. “such a good girl, holding still for me. . .”

You shiver, heat rushing through your veins and you don’t know if it’s from injection or the way his voice sounds, how he praises and calms you.

“Didn’t think you’d be this obedient,” Ford adds, his lips brushing perilously close to your ear. His gloved fingers caress your jaw, tilting your face up so you’re forced to meet his dark, satisfied gaze. “you’re being so brave, it’s making me want to reward you.”

You look at him with big eyes as his gaze drops to your lips, oh yes, his kiss would be the best reward. Please, please, kiss me, dr. Pines. You try to not move so much, but it’s impossible – your body reacts to him, every nerve tingling under his touch, you need him badly, need him to touch you, to kiss you.

The injection burns, a slow, simmering heat that radiates through your veins, sinking deep into your muscles. You bite your lip, stifling a gasp as the sensation settles, spreading warmth to places you didn’t expect.

Ford steps back, his expression shifting to one of cold concentration as he scribbles notes. “Interesting,” he murmurs, not even glancing up as he jots down observations. “Subject shows signs of heightened arousal after the introduction of the serum. Fascinating. . .” and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re just a part of his grand experiment while he continues muttering about “accelerated responses” and “stimulated neurochemistry”.

“Localized reaction along the bloodstream, increased dilation, elevated pulse,” he notes, clearly more engrossed in his findings than in your squirming.

Then, he closes his notebook and steps forward, positioning himself right between your legs.

You suck in a breath, heat pooling in your stomach and it’s like every nerve is suddenly alive under his fingertips.

“Well?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing circles over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “what are you feeling, sweetheart? any noticeable side effects?”

“I. . . I feel. . .” you trail off, your voice faltering as his hand slides up, resting on your lower back, pulling you forward, bringing your bodies even closer. “I feel hot, doctor Pines.” words slipping from your lips in a dazed, needy whisper. The embarrassment only making you more aware of how desperate you are under his hands.

His eyes spark with interest, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. One hand moves up, cupping your breast with a lazy grip, his thumb brushing over you in slow, teasing circles. His eyes stay locked on your face, watching every little gasp, every shiver, the way you look at him with parted lips, half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. And then he grips harder, digging his fingers in as he rolls your breast under his palm, testing your reactions with every squeeze.

You arch into his touch, a whimper spilling from your mouth and that only spurs him on.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” Ford squeezes harder, rougher, his grip verging on painful, but it only fuels the heat building inside you, making you ache.

Then, without warning, his hand leaves your breast and a sudden, sharp slap lands across your cheek, startling you, the sting blooming hot and fast on your skin. However, that only makes you press your thighs together, desperate for more.

“Look at you, so responsive. This formula might be my best work yet!”

And that’s why, hours later, you stumble out of his lab with trembling legs, your mind hazy and his seed slowly dripping down your thighs.

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls smut #ford pines x reader #ford pines smut #stanford pines #ford x reader #stanford pines x you #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x you #gravity falls fanfic #gravity falls headcanons

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peachesofteal · 19 hours ago

Text

"This can't be happening."

"C'mere." He tries to drag you into his arms, but you dodge him.

"No. I can't... I don't want to be touched right now." Your hands are shaking, prickle of tears starting to burn at the back of your eyes. How can this be happening? "Oh my god, my family. They live-"

"They'll be alright."

"No!" You shriek. He's too nonchalant, unaffected. He doesn't understand. "Look at that red spot. That's where they live, right there. In a state that doesn't view most of them as human beings. The only one who would qualify in their eyes is my father, because he's a man. I left them all behind, in a country that hates them." Your stomach flips. "We're the minority. My sister just had a daughter-" your voice dies as you grapple with the reality. The country you used to call home, the one you watched elect a black man to the presidency not once, but twice, is nowhere to be found. It's dead. Fallen to extremism like so many others.

"Shhh, hey-"

"How could they do this? How could the majority of the country choose this? I don't understand. I mean, I do. The answer is plain as day but fuck..." You go to him now, burying your face in his chest and taking a deep breath. It helps. Here, you're safe, at least in this moment. "I'm sorry, I'm freaking out."

"It's okay," he murmurs, kissing your forehead, "it's normal. You're grieving where you've come from, you're worried and scared for your loved ones. That's okay."

"He's going to start so many wars," you moan, and he chuckles, sweeping his palm over the back of your head and holding you tighter.

"Don't worry about that so much, it's not that simple... and there are a lot of things that happen behind the scenes. Trust me." He holds you tighter, and another wave of despair crests.

"It's never going to end. The states are always going to be lost to this... this bigotry, this extremism. I thought there was change happening but... it's so deeply ingrained... there's no hope for them."

"You have to believe there is, love. Hope is the most powerful thing on this planet. It changes the course of the future all the time. Trust me, I've seen it."

"I just..." You trail off, lump forming in your throat. He rubs your back, squeezing your shoulders before taking a half step back to tilt your face up to his.

"Listen to me sweetheart," he cups your face, thumbs moving back and forth in a soothing rhythm, "these things happen. Governments ebb and flow. In two years, there will be another election, right? For state and local representatives?" You sniffle and nod. "There will be a massive overcorrection. The scales will tip." It relieves the ache in your chest, a little bit, to know that there will at least be another chance to right the ship, somewhat. "Want us to assassinate him for you?" He murmurs, kissing your temple, and you give him a watery smile.

"I think that's asking a little much." He shrugs.

"Wouldn't be the worst thing we've done."

#reader is American living in the UK #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon basically makes you feel a little bit better about the election #simon riley #peaches writes

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strawberrynull · 2 days ago

Text

──☆ ˙🌡 ̟ colds

엔하이픈 | Enhypen | Nishimura Riki

──Pairing: riki x afab!reader

──Genre: fluff

──Synopsis: Your boyfriend Riki gets sick, leaving you to care for him for the day

──Warnings: teeth rotting fluff, Riki without the nonchalant mysterious act

──A/N: SORRY I HAVENT BEEN ACTIVE. I have a few filler posts and then I’ll get back to writing Hallway Crush since I know some of you have been waiting for it

masterlist

You could immediately tell your boyfriend, Riki, was sick the second he stumbled out of him room in the morning. He was pale in the face and looked like he was about to collapse. Way different from when he was exhausted from practicing. After being with him for so long, you noticed more little details in his behavior. This time, he was definitely sick. He made his way to one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter and sat down as if he had been on his feet for hours.

Last night, you had fallen asleep at his apartment while watching a movie. He invited you over for the day since he had been busy recently. By the end of the night, you two ended up watching multiple movies on the couch. When you had fallen asleep, he didn't bother waking you. It was already late at night and he didn't want you going home in the dark. Though, a few hours after you fell asleep, he started feeling unwell and went to sleep in his bedroom. Riki didn't want you to get sick too.

"Are you feeling okay?" You asked gently, handing him his plated breakfast. He reached out with a trembling hand to take the plate.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He said in a groggy and scratchy voice. You shot him a look with raised eyebrows. "I just need to eat before practice." He lied straight to your face. He wasn't a very convincing liar. You already had your answer no matter what excuse he gave to convince you he was okay and healthy.

"You're sick, Riki. Don't lie to me." You stated, reaching into the medicine cabinet for the thermometer. "I'm taking your temperature."

"No. I told you, I'm not-" he coughed mid sentence. "I- I mean I'm-" and he coughed again. After he had recovered from him coughing fit, he slammed his hand on the counter and insisted "I'm not sick!"

You sighed, ignoring his excuses. "Open your mouth." You demanded, holding out the thermometer in front of his face. He looked up at you and furrowed his eyebrows. "Now, Riki." You said sternly. He reluctantly opened his mouth, letting you take his temperature as he crossed his arms angrily. After a few seconds you took the thermometer from him and held it up to reveal the little screen that read 38.3°. You raised your eyebrows and gave him a told-you-so look.

"I feel fine, Y/n." He stated, turning to eat his breakfast. You stood behind him and brushed his hair with your fingers as he ate. When he was done, he picked up his plate and began to stand up but was interrupted by you taking his plate to put in the sink yourself. "I was going to do that. I'm not incapable just because I have a high temperature." He sulked.

"Well now you can preserve energy. Go lay down." you insisted.

"But I have practice-"

"You're sick. Go lay down." you said seriously. Riki stuck out his bottom lip making his mouth form a small pout, your weakness. He knew you would always give in when he acted this way. You couldn't resist how cute he was. But today was different. He was sick and you were very serious about him staying in good health. You scrunched your eyebrows to prove that you were serious. And to show that his antics weren't working on you today.

"But then I'll have to call the boys and cancel practice. It's so much of a hassle and-" He began to complain before being interrupted again.

"I'll text them. Go lay down. Now." You pointed in the direction of his room. He huffed and turned to leave reluctantly. You followed close behind to make sure he actually laid down. Riki's cough only seemed to worsen as you walked him to his room. You assumed his throat was probably sore too. You made a mental note to make him soup and tea.

As Riki pulled the blanket over himself, you sat down beside him at the edge of the bed. You ran your fingers through his hair and looked at him sympathetically.

"How do you feel? And be honest with me this time." You asked with a slight pout. You felt bad for him whenever he wasn't feeling well. He would have to skip practice and stay at his apartment doing nothing. Riki was always very active. He never liked to stay in one place for too long.

"Um... my throat hurts and obviously I have a terrible cough." He explained. "My whole body feels sore too. I feel pretty weak and shaky."

You looked at him like he was a hurt animal. It was awful how he could become this sick in such a short time. Feeling sorry for him wasn’t going to make him better though.

"I'm sorry, my love. Would you like me to get you cough medicine?" You asked him, rubbing his cheek gently. He nodded before coughing again. You frowned and stood up to get medicine for him. You left a quick kiss on his forehead but before you could leave, Riki grabbed your hand.

"Y/nnnnn" He whined, pulling your arms back toward him.

"Yes, Ki?" You asked and placed your free hand over his.

"Can we cuddle?" He asked, trying to subtly pull your arm so you would sit back on the bed with him.

"No, silly. You're sick." You cooed, trying to free yourself from his hold on your arm. Still, he refused to let you go.

"Pleeeeeeeeeease? I'll hold my breath the entire time so you don't get sick." You laughed as he tried to convince you.

"Riki, you're ridiculous."

Of course, he refused to give up, though. "What if I die today?" and his over dramatic antics started. "What if this is your last chance to cuddle with your super hot boyfriend? You're really going to pass up this chance?"

"Yes because I need to be healthy in order to care for your needy ass."

"Come onnnnnn. When was the last time you cuddled with poor old me?"

"Yesterday." You deadpanned.

"Fuck." You start to walk away to get his medicine. "Wow, you really don't love me, do you?"

"If I don't love you, I guess you don't need medicine or soup or tea, huh?" You stop in your tracks and turn back around, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Nooo!" He whined, draping his arm over his face dramatically.

"You're impossible to deal with.” You reply dismissively, shaking your head. “You act like I’m leaving forever. I’m only going to the kitchen. You’ll be fine.”

“But what if your cuddles are the only remedy to my fatal illness!?” He yelled as you walked out of the room, ignoring him with an amused grin.

After a few minutes, you came back into the room holding a tray with soup, tea, and some medicine. You placed it on the nightstand next to him, which was now littered with tissues. Riki happily ate the food you made for him. When he was done eating, his antics picked up again.

“So, since I’ve been cured with your superior cooking, that means we can cuddle now, right?” He asked with a huge smile plastered across his smug face.

“Absolutely not.” You sighed heavily.

“Awww come onnnn” he whined like a child throwing a temper tantrum. He even crossed his arms, which made you laugh. Upon seeing his pouting face once more, your mind had been changed.

“Alright, fine. You win.” You were quick to tackle your boyfriend in a big hug. He let out a quiet “ouch” as you laid on top of him. His grin was quick to return to his face though.

“Does this mean I get a kiss too?” Riki smirked playfully.

“You’re so hard to say no to.” You rolled your eyes before leaning in to connect your lips. The kiss lingered for a longer time than intended. You were always so careful with him. You took care of him no matter what. Riki had a hard time expressing his gratitude through words, so instead he used actions. A meaningful kiss. His gratitude to you.

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