#that if that comes to happen no life could happen

[parfaitblogs]

fresh out the slammer ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid comes home from prison, and needs to fulfil everything he has missed about you. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut & comfort (18+ mdni) tags: post prison!reid. soft dom!spencer. teeth might rot i was cringing during some of this. established relationship. the briefest of breast play because what do i hate? the word nipple! fingering. p in v. no protection is mentioned but imagine what you will. casual nudity afterwards. spencer's got bruises from prison. i lowkey forgot about his thigh wound until the very end.  word count: 5.7k a/n: there's a completely different version of me in a world where i didn't write this. i hope she's doing well. i feel like i've been reborn. this is stupidly long LOL my apologies. pleaseee tell me if you liked this! or if you didn't! i love feedback! here's my monthly smut fic see you all in october!

Three months wasn't a long time, in the grand scheme of things. A quarter of a year usually went by too quickly for anybody's liking, the year sprinting through seasons until all twelve months were complete, and you were repeating it all over again. Usually. Three months without Spencer Reid, however, went by achingly slowly. And you hadn't originally considered just how agonising they could be. 

Each day was another painful mirror of the last, waking up and going to bed with the same sense of dread in your stomach, oftentimes swallowing you whole and leaving you unable to do just about anything at all. 

Living life without Spencer Reid was hard.

You saw him — of course you did. Despite his original efforts to keep you off the approved visitors list, Penelope Garcia had seen one glimpse of your heart shattered expression upon being told, and marched her way to the prison to slap sense into him. You weren't sure if that was metaphoric or not. 

However, seeing him once every other week and living with him were two very different situations. You hadn't realised just how much you had depended on him always being there when you woke up in the morning until you were waking up to cold bed sheets and a pillow clutched petulantly to your chest in hopes of recreating the warmth only Spencer could provide. 

And then he was free. 

From prison, that is. You hadn't heard it all — information about his time in prison had been kept from you in an attempt to protect your own peace of mind. But you knew from at least the bruises he was always sporting no matter when you went to visit him, that something awful had happened to him in there, and his own brain would keep him imprisoned for as long as it wished. 

But he was free.

And he was here, and you were staring up at his face littered with unkempt facial hair and a head of untreated curls, and regardless of everything horrific he had endured brewing behind his eyes, he was staring at you with the same softness he had before any of this happened. 

Despite the beginning of a protest when you wrapped your arms around his torso, you hugged him, and he hugged you, and even the faintest smell of grime and blood couldn't stop you from gripping onto him with so much force you thought your knuckles would break. 

"You're real," you whispered into his chest, muffled by it, and it shook beneath your face as he laughed, quietly. Beautifully.

"I am," he answered, and you could feel him crushing his own facial features into the top of your head, no doubt inhaling your shampoo. "You're real."

"Yes," you confirmed with a nod.

Maybe hours passed, perhaps only minutes. Whichever it was, you were still reluctant to pull away from him until he did, your face stained with tear streaks you don't remember shedding, his own eyes glassy as your gazes met. 

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" you asked him, walking backwards as you led him out of the doorway you two had been finding solace in, and further into the apartment space you were ecstatic to share together again. 

"Not particularly," he answered, strides catching up to you and encasing your waist between his hands, tugging your body closer to his own. "Is that okay?"

"As long as you promise not to keep it in," you replied, teeth chewing into your lower lip in a contemplative habit. 

"I have counselling at work," he said, and you nodded, your facial features softening only a little — you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't enjoy said counselling sessions. Breath tickled your lips as he leaned in a little closer, inciting heat onto your cheeks. "Any other questions?"

"No," you replied, your own lips twitching in amusement. "That's it. Why?"

"Because I haven't kissed you in three months," he murmured, "and I want to."

"Maybe," you said with a hum, and he said your name chidingly, eliciting a laugh from you. "Yeah. Okay."

To be honest, you had spent a few too many nights allowing your thoughts to wander and end up dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. Whether or not either of you would have the patience to be gentle and kind to one another. In those nights, you had decided you would be. Your heart cracking every time you thought of Spencer alone in a concrete cell that it left you with a gaping hole in your chest. All you really wanted was to hold him and remind him how adored he was. 

Right now, you learned you wouldn't be. 

There was a tenderness in the way his hands found your cheeks to cup, and there was a softness in his fingertips against your skin. Yet, everything he kissed with was anything but. Feverish and quick, swallowing you whole and inspiring a spark in your chest that resulted in you kissing back just as hungry. 

Just when you thought there was nothing left to trigger within him, a squeak left your lips as the result of him tugging you impossibly closer, and he was beginning to walk you backwards, even further into the apartment, his kiss growing all consuming. 

"Spencer," you said, breathlessly, jerking your head back, staring at him, waiting for him to realise you weren't returning your lips to his, and his eyes opened. 

"What?" he asked, almost irritatedly. When he watched the slight flicker of hurt flash on your face at the tone, his own expression became gentler. "I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"

Immediately, you shook your head. "No. I just wanted to check how far you wanted to go," your hands travelled up to his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. "I know there's a lot going on up here."

"Actually, right now it's just you," he said, tilting a head to the side to lean into one of your palms. "It's mostly you all the time. But right now you're consuming it."

"I make such an impact on your life," you quipped. 

"I know you're teasing, but you do," he replied, fingers tracing up and down either side of your jawline, eyes searching each small detail on your face he had no doubt already memorised. "I survived in there for you."

"Oh."

Probably not the most eloquent response for the things he had just confessed, but truly your brain had scrambled within an instant, and you weren't sure what to say.

"Sorry," he said, hands stilling on your face. "To answer your question, I don't know. I really missed you."

"I know," you said when a gaping silence followed his words. "We don't have to."

"I think I want to."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "You can't think, Spence. You've gotta know."

"I've definitely said that to you before," he chided, thinking for a moment, before, "yes. I did. First time we had sex."

"Sue me for repeating important sexual advice to you, Spencer Reid," you huffed. He laughed. 

"No, I mean, I do. Want to," he finally replied. "I'm really scared of hurting you."

"Do you want to hurt me?"

"No."

"Then you won't," you reassured him, despite knowing whatever doubt he had in himself would not be resolved just like that, and it'll probably eat at his mind for a long while. "And even if you do, I won't be upset with you." When his face scrunched and his expression mirrored judgement, you stammered to clarify. "Not in a kinky way. Don't look at me like that, Spencer. Stop it. I just meant I'll understand. And I won't be mad."

"Didn't take you to be into masochism," he mumbled, and you groaned at his selective hearing, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, that shook with his laughter. "Kidding, honey. I know what you mean."

"Not funny."

"It was a little," he countered, a hand reaching up to entangle within your hair to pull your head back, gently, so he could look at you again. 

"Hi," you said when your eyes locked once more. 

"Hello," he answered, his lips pulling into a smile. "I'd like to kiss you again."

"You've used up your kiss for the day, actually," you replied, sweetly beaming up at him. 

"Quiet," he shot back, leaning forwards and allowing his lips to brush hesitantly against yours, eyes searching your own with an added hint of desperation. "Please?"

You pretended to think for a moment too long, because he was already mumbling something that sounded a little like 'brat', and pressed his mouth to yours once more. 

You couldn't complain. 

It was the same intensity as earlier, and yet there was something in it that differentiated the homesickness of the kiss from then, and the desperation now. Large hands — that you would probably allow to encase you whole — pathetically held your face lightly, hips knocking with yours as he walked you backwards and up against the back of the couch. 

"Spence," you whimpered embarrassingly, hands clawing at the sleeves of his suit jacket, trialling and failing at tugging it off his body. 

"I got you, sweet girl," he mumbled against your lips, not breaking the kiss for even a second as he helped you, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor — something he will certainly chastise himself for later. 

"Bedroom," you said, in between heavy breaths and feverish kisses. A request he was more than happy to comply to, for he had nodded, and you were instantaneously tugging on one of his hands in the direction of the room, his eyes fixated on your body as he trailed behind. 

"Missed you so much," he murmured as he tugged you back towards him the second he had kicked the door shut, lips finding the corner of your mouth, then your jawline, then your neck, as he kissed down you. 

"So you've said," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as he gently nipped at the skin. 

"Do you get off on being mean to me?" he chided, lifting his head to look at you again, and your heart stuttered. 

"No. Just that dominance act that it brings out," you murmured, attempting to keep the mood light. Successfully so, for air huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched, fingers that had dropped to your waist squeezing it gently. In unresolved doubt, you added, "I missed you too. Don't worry."

"I'm not," he replied, and the weight lifted off your shoulders. "Lie down."

"So demanding," you teased, though his tone was anything but firm.

You were met with an unimpressed look, and you merely grinned back as you climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged atop it, staring up at him expectingly.

Instead of moving over you like you had expected, he crouched at the foot of the bed, holding his hands out on the mattress in front of you. Needing no more than the simple gesture, you untangled your legs and stretched them out in front of you, and he tugged you down towards the end of the bed, breath hitting the skin of your thighs deliciously. 

"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," you argued when his fingers trailed up the sides of your legs, finding the waistband of your pyjama shorts.

"Why?" he questioned, halting his movements as he searched your face. 

"Because you're the one who just got out of prison," his face scrunched at the verbal reminder. "Sorry. But... yeah. I have thought about making you come the day you got home like daily."

"Oh have you?" his eyebrows shot up, and it was then that your brain caught up to your running mouth, and your cheeks heated up. 

"Nope. Forget I said anything."

"No," he pushed himself up from the floor, moving his body over yours on the bed, successfully forcing you to lie back. "Tell me those thoughts."

"Spencer," you moaned, shaking your head as you buried your face into your hands, that he was a little too quick to catch and pry away. 

"I'm not going to judge you," he said, amused. "In fact, I aspire to know every single thought there is up in that pretty head of yours. Especially the ones about me. Please tell me."

"I just thought about making you come. There's nothing more exciting to it."

"Yes, but how?" 

"My mouth, I guess," you mumbled, voice going impossibly quiet. "I don't know."

"You're acting like you have never given me oral," he said, catching your gaze within milliseconds of you averting it, thumb and forefinger straightening your head again. 

"Nobody says oral, Spencer. Say head," your own face now scrunched up. 

"Lots of people say oral," he defended. 

"Yeah, old people. We are not old people."

"Fine, you're acting like you have never given me head." 

Despite it being a jab at him to take the heat off of you, the phrase coming out from his lips sounded exceptionally vulgar for what it was, and it only resulted in your stomach flipping. 

Finally, you regained some control over your own thoughts, and you found it in you to reply. "That's what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good."

"You underestimate how much I gain from making you feel good," he countered, fingers lazily caressing the skin of your jaw as his eyes studied your face with an intensity that had your stomach flipping. 

"It cannot be as good as an orgasm," you huffed, stubbornly so. 

He nipped at your nose. "It is."

"Can we compromise?" 

"So you don't want me to give you oral?" his eyebrows rose. 

In every other situation, you would not be fighting him on this. In fact, he would probably have already gotten his foreplay of teasing and teetering you on the edge out of the way by now, and you'd be well and truly content. However, the forefront of your mind was still plagued by how little time Spencer had to take care of himself, and the last thing you needed him to be was at your service. Despite his protests. 

"Head," you corrected. "And no."

He searched for remnants of a lie for a few beats longer, before he nodded his head, giving in. "What's your compromise, honey?"

"I don't think there's a sexy way to say to just put it in me," you said, and his lips curled up into an amused smile, followed by a huff of laughter. 

"No, I don't think there is," he agreed. "I do think anything you say can be sexy, though."

You pulled a face, and you shook your head. "No. Don't say that ever again either."

"I can't compliment you, I can't give you ora—head," he rattled off. "Is there anything good I get out of this?"

"You get to fuck me?" you batted your eyelashes up at him. 

"Such vulgar language," he chastised, ducking his head when a hand of yours rose to swat him. 

Despite himself, his head had dropped to the crook of your neck, and he had begun placing feather like kisses along the skin that distracted you just enough to drop your hand back to the mattress beneath you.

Any other day, and you'd probably still be bickering with him until the minute he made you come. However, three months without even the faintest of touches from him left you overwhelmed with everything he did to you, and so the gentle kisses trailing down to the collar of your shirt were enough to destroy any coherent thoughts you could have. 

Cautiously, and with a touch so delicate, Spencer lifted your — his — shirt up your abdomen, fingertips leaving behind the warmest of trails as they skimmed along your skin. One quiet whine from you was all it took for him to hurry his teasing along, and soon enough your shirt was discarded. 

A quiet, sharp inhale of air was the other sound aside from your quickened breathing, and you felt tears sting your vision as another kiss was placed just below your now exposed collarbone. 

The time without you seemed to weigh nothing in his mind as he took every inch of you in separately, lips mapping out your body like it was the first time all over again, though still knowing exactly when to pause and pay attention to for the sweetest of sounds to be ripped from your throat. 

He liked to hear you. 

Fingers found your waist as his lips kissed down your sternum, then back up and over until they reached your nipple. He spent time on each breast, ignoring your impatient whining as he neglected the rest of you for a few minutes too long (in your opinion).

"Spencer," you scolded, and it was all it took for him to accept you were not in the mood to wait, and for him to decide he wasn't either. 

"Sorry, honey," he replied, voice impossibly soft as he returned his lips to your face, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth as his fingers found your shorts again. "Can I take these off?"

"I think we're incredibly out of balance," you replied. And though there wasn't really anything wrong with the sentence — you had certainly said it before — he still pulled back, an unrecognisable grey clouding his eyes. "What?"

"I want to keep my shirt on," was his response, the words inciting confusion to your face. 

"What? Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

You wanted to scream that yes, he did. But did he? Wordlessly, you shook your head, but it didn't help the pang of worry in your chest. 

"Unless there's something like an embarrassing tattoo, I'm not going to judge you," you decided to say instead. "Did you get an embarrassing tattoo in prison?"

"No," he shook his head, and you were comforted by the amusement in his tone. "I didn't have the best time in prison."

"I know," you replied.

"And I wasn't very liked. By the men in there."

You knew that too, to an extent. You knew the bruises on his face weren't self inflicted. "You're liked by me."

"I know, sweet girl," a heart shatteringly sad smile stretched across his face as a hand lifted to your cheek. "It just isn't very pretty. And I don't want you to worry."

Well, now you were. Regardless, you nodded your head, turning your head to the side so you could kiss the palm of the hand on your face. "I won't worry, then."

"I want to keep my shirt on. Can that please be okay with you?" 

Silently, and after a debate inside your brain, you nodded your head. Gratefully, he pecked your lips once more, before his focus shifted back to you and your body. 

"Shorts. Can I take them off?" he asked, again.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

His fingers collected the fabric of your shorts' waistband, and gently pulled them down your legs, cool air washing over you despite the final leftover article of clothing on your body. You shivered, and you could hear him mumbling nearly incoherent apologies as he kissed your stomach.

"These too?" he then asked, eyes flickering between your face for confirmation, and the pair of underwear you still had residing on your body. You nodded your head, and he pulled them down too.

You do not remember a time ever fearing being naked beneath Spencer Reid's gaze, and that did not change even now, as an arguably different man drank in your entire body, the love he had for you not having wavered despite the passing of time. 

And you certainly did not fear the way one of his hands slid up your leg, seemingly soothingly, until it teetered on the edge of too far up the limb to be innocent, and he was intensely watching your face for every reaction you could possibly make. 

Achingly gently, his middle finger ran up the centre, collecting arousal you hadn't realised was there and knuckle gently bumping your clit, eliciting a quiet mewl from you. You watched him smile at the sound, dragging his finger back down, gathering more of your arousal until he was pushing the finger in.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling oh so familiar, and yet seemingly foreign all at once. Too long, you decided then. Three months is too long.

Leaning back down, his lips brushed your jawline, the otherwise odd sensation of there being something — someone — inside of you balancing out with the pleasure that came from the comfort of it being him. And of course the delicate circles his thumb had begun to draw on your clit. 

"Did you do this while I was in prison?" he asked you, lips moving against your skin. 

"Touch myself?" 

"Mhm."

"Yeah," you said, voice breathless. "Was never good, though."

"No?" he asked, curling his finger inside of you and tugging a louder moan from your throat. "Why not?"

"Just never felt as nice. Not like you."

"Oh. I'm sorry, angel," he murmured, pulling his lips away so he could look at you again. Though, your eyes were still planted shut. "I'll make up for it then, yeah?"

You feverishly nodded your head, and he laughed. Fulfilling his promise, he sped up the motions of his finger and thumb, your hands grabbing ahold of fistfuls of the sheets, in hopes that it will provide some comfort from the overwhelming feeling of Spencer touching you again. 

"Can I add another finger?" he asked, and though slightly hesitant, you nodded your head. 

He waited a beat longer before fulfilling your request, and there was something obscene about how easily another finger entered you. Though, Spencer thought it was pretty, and your back arching was pretty, and yes, he had missed this and he had missed you and he was biting his tongue from telling you that all over again. 

"Spencer," a delicately breathy whine left your lips when the heel of his palm collided with your clit — thumb long forgotten once he had gotten distracted with thrusting fingers in and out of you. 

"Hm?"

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the kindest smile on his face reminding you just how much he adored you, and your heart sporadically beat in your chest. When you didn't say anything else, he quickened his ministrations, eliciting more whines and moans.

"Is two orgasms too much for tonight?" he asked you, the question seemingly innocent regardless of both it's undertones, and what he was currently doing to you. 

In hindsight you should've probably said yes. It most certainly would've hurried things along to something he would enjoy as much as you. However, if Spencer Reid fingering you was a religion, you were an eternally loyal follower, and you would do anything to keep him there for as long as you could. 

So you shook your head, murmuring a quiet, "No. I can do two," and allowing him to fasten his fingers once more. 

Fingers found and massaged that spot inside of you he had probably engrained into his brain, and he was leaning down to swallow the loud moan that followed from the feeling. Practiced motions tore the same sounds from your throat as he repeatedly brushed up against it, until your eyes were forced to squeeze shut once more, and hands that were once seeking solace in the sheets, found his wrist and wrapped around it. 

"I can't move if you're going to keep my arm locked up, angel," he said when your nails dug into his wrist, lips smiling against your skin. 

A few short jerks of his hand convinced you to let go of the death grip you had on him, instead returning them to the mattress.

Then he was doing that motion again, and again, and you were silently praying he would never stop. Although, if your moans were any indication to where you were at — and they were — Spencer wouldn't. 

Your hips bucking told him more than he needed to know, and the absence of his body above you when he lay down on the bed next to you was long forgotten when a splayed hand on your abdomen pushed you back down into the mattress, your heart stuttering at the feeling. 

Gentle whines of his name, and a repeated mantra of 'please, please, please' was the only thing your otherwise dismantled brain could come up with, and Spencer was relishing in the knowledge that he was doing this to you. And though it is something he knows he's done before, it had been far too long since and the reminder was always welcome. 

"I know, sweet girl," he said against you when your eyes came open and searched his desperately, walls fluttering around his fingers indicating just how close you were. 

"Please don't stop."

"I won't," he confirmed, punctuating the promise with his thumb returning to your clit. He had your best interest in mind — you knew that. He now wouldn't stop even if you begged him to. 

Overwhelming seemed too insignificant of a word to describe what you felt like when you came, nerve endings all over your body sparking, instead of just the ones he was stimulating. 

His thumb rubbing circles and his fingers thrusting in and out of you didn't falter until your shaking body had stilled and your strings of moans had diminished, slowly coming to a stop and leaving your body — seemingly — as fast as they had entered. 

The content smile on your face was interrupted with Spencer's hand lifting to your lips, and instinctively you parted them, already knowing exactly what he was after. 

His middle and ring fingers entered your mouth, and your face scrunched up despite yourself as you tasted yourself on them. He laughed at that — of course he did — and pulled them out soon after. 

"You do that every time," he murmured, hair tickling your skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulder, up towards your neck. 

"It tastes weird," you argued, and his teeth nipping your skin told you he disagreed. Though, he wasn't in the mood to argue, for he didn't say anything else on the matter. 

"Still got it in you for one more?" he asked you, pulling his head back so he could see you once again. 

"Yes."

"Good."

Your eyes watched him even as he rolled back to take his pants off, and the awkward smile he gave you provided the inkling of comfort that there was still the man from three months prior in there. 

"I really missed you, you know?" This time it was you saying it, piercing the air as his hand came down between your thighs to part them. The head of his cock nudged against you, brushing delicately through your folds and eliciting a quiet whimper from your lips. 

"I know," he answered, pressing kisses on your shoulder once more. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah. I'm fine," you confirmed with a nod, confusion crossing your features all up until you learned why he was asking. 

A broken moan, choked and caught in your throat, left you when he painstakingly slowly pushed inside of you. There's not a lot going on inside your mind when he stops, your entire body aflame and equally desperate for more, as you were for him to take a moment here. 

"I love you," he breathed out, the words hurried and encouraging your heart to speed up, and your mind to melt even more. 

"I love you too," you said back, voice just as quiet, gently nudging hips ushering for him to move. 

"Impatient girl," he muttered, but you smiled nonetheless because he did (move). 

His thrusts were slow, and gentle, but you never truly minded how much time he took with you once you two were here. Even more so now, for you were on the same page as him, and you wanted to savour every single moment of this down to the second. 

A whimper left your lips, followed closely by the desperate whisper of his name, and lips that were still resting against your shoulder smiled. 

"I thought about this a lot," he said to you, his hand that was holding your thighs slightly open sliding up to find your clit. "I definitely shouldn't have."

"Why?" You knew why, but the thought of hearing him answer it aloud excited you a little. 

Unfortunately, he knew you better than that. "Don't play coy. You know why, honey."

"You're cruel," you huffed, and he laughed, rolling his hips to meet yours, earning another moan. "Maybe I don't."

"Use that wonderful imagination of yours, then," he answered, rubbing your clit at the same time as he moved his hips once more, effortlessly rendering you unable to respond to him again. 

A teenage boy probably could've lasted longer than the both of you, but you decided to blame it all on your already sensitive nerves from a prior orgasm, and the fact that Spencer Reid had not had you like this for over 2190 hours (not that he was counting).

Whimpers escaped your throat as he kept his hips thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace, while his fingers working on your clit did anything but. It was an aching juxtaposition that left you reeling for more, and Spencer was now the one shutting his eyes so he could hold onto some semblance of composure. 

"Spencer," you pleaded, and it was a quiet moan from behind you that told you he was exactly where you were. 

"I know, honey," he replied, the desperation in his voice jumpstarting your heart. "Need to come, yeah?"

"Mmhm," you nodded your head quickly, breathlessly moaning. "Please."

"You're going to. Don't worry. Don't need to beg, sweet girl."

Commingled moans and obscenely wet noises filled the air, and your hips stuttered as your stomach twisted into knots. 

Chanting his name like a prayer, you meet him wherever your two souls go in that moment, and it's a shuddering feeling as you come at the same time as him. For the first time in forever. 

His hand drops back to your thigh and he massages the muscles there gently, willing himself to stop before he crossed the line of overstimulation — not that you think you'd complain about that. 

There was an emptiness when he pulled out, but then he was kissing you again to make up for it, and you were smiling against his lips as you kissed him back. This time, without the fever. 

"How're you feeling?" he asked you, quietly. 

"Happy," you answered, forcing your heavy eyelids open when he pulled back. "How are you feeling?"

"Also happy," he agreed, and your heart soared. 

"Good."

"You need to go pee," he said, placing another kiss on your cheek, before he leaned his body away entirely. 

"Help?"

Arguably, you could do it yourself. Your limbs were tired, yes, and your mind was melting, but you were coherent enough to brave it alone. 

Thankfully, you didn't have to. 

He carried you to the bathroom, running the bath water after you had silently begged him for it with your eyes (looking between him and the empty bath with wide eyes and a jutted lip worked wonders), and leaving you to pee. 

"Are you getting in with me?" you asked him as wobbly legs akin to a fawn carried you over to the now full and steaming bathtub. 

"Do you want me to?"

Hesitantly, you nodded your head, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. "But you'd have to take your shirt off. So you don't have to."

He studied your face for a moment longer, before he nodded, and fingers expertly worked at unbuttoning down the shirt. 

"I'm okay now. That's the important thing you have to remember, okay?" his words provided little comfort, but you nodded your head regardless. 

You had a suspicion already of what sight you were going to be met with, but it didn't stop the guilt settling into your chest when the shirt fell to the floor anyways. 

"Spence," you murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards, heart falling to your stomach. 

Bruises littered the skin, some fresh and still purple, others nearly healed and yellowing. But there were so many, and it was then that you were swallowing the rest of him in with your eyes, catching the bandage on his thigh. 

"What is that?" you nodded towards the covered wound, and when your eyes returned to his face again, he was staring at you with an unreadable expression. 

"A lot happened," he answered, quietly, before repeating, "I'm okay now."

You nodded your head, tears stinging your vision for nothing more than your ridiculous amount of empathy. "Can you tell me about it?"

"I will," he promised. "Eventually. Just not now, okay? I haven't processed it all yet."

"Okay," you replied, and his heart shattered at the sight of a tear slipping down your face. 

"Hey," he took ahold of your hand and tugged you closer to him, fingers running through your hair and resting at the base of your scalp. "I promise, honey. I'm not going to disintegrate from a few bruises."

"It isn't just a few," you answered, voice wavering. "There's so many."

"You have a heart too big for your chest," he decided to say instead, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "Most of them don't even hurt now. Please believe me when I say I'm okay."

"I'm trying," your voice is thick with a sob caught in your throat. "I think I'm just really tired."

"Yeah," he crooned, agreeing. "Your body's released a lot of prolactin, which encourages sleep. Alongside the endorphins and dopamine that you're crashing from upon seeing this."

Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and he kissed the tip of your nose in an attempt to comfort. 

"Bath, then we can sleep, and we can talk more in the morning," he listed off, and you merely nodded your head once more, sniffling and wiping your eyes. 

"Okay."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[supportgaza]

You Would NOT Evacuate and Leave Your Family Behind in Gaz*a to Face the Horrors of War, Would you?!

Note: My main account (@mahmoudkhalafff) was unfortunately brought down.

In the midst of the chaos engulfing the region and the receding in media coverage, you might be misled to think the horrific war in Gaz*a has stopped. However, it breaks my heart to tell you that if anything, it only moves from bad to WORSE. Committing massacres against defenseless civilian families and children has become the ordinary instead of the horrific unordinary.

Unfortunately, the massacres and the mass destruction of our beloved Gaz*a have it into a pile of rubble and rendered the dreams and hopes of people as baseless, far-fetched, meaningless, and unrealistic daydreaming.

I was displaced with my big family five times in Gaz*a and escaped imminent death multiple times before I was evacuated to Ireland five months into the war and I can tell you from my firsthand experience that the situation in Gaz*a is beyond hellish. Can you even bear to imagine that Lifeless corpses of so many children are brought out from under the rubble of their bombed houses almost every day?!

I hate to admit that I never imagined I was this weak. I don’t have the courage or strength to bring the corpses of my future children from under the rubble in Gaza one day. I shudder and blood freezes in my veins when I imagine what could happen to my parents, brothers, sisters and their children while I am in a safe place too far away.

Therefore, I have the moral obligation to do everything in my power to secure a NORMAL, safe, and dignified life for them here. Please know exactly what you are contributing to by boosting my campaign. You are helping a Gaza family reunite in Ireland after their lives and dreams have been viciously crushed by the horrific war. And, sadly, the worst is yet to come!

After consulting the Irish Refugee Council and Doras in Ireland and Palestinian families who managed to reunite in Ireland, I know for certain that THERE IS HOPE!

Please do consider helping me save my family by donating, reblogging, and sharing.

Note: Vetted by:

1. @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi # 151 on the spreadsheet of Vetted Gaza Fundraisers List]

2. @riding-with-the-wild-hunt Here .

Dear lovely kind people, please consider reblogging and sharing <3

@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @ibtisams @vakarians-babe @90-ghost @sayruq @fairuzfan @sar-soor @fallahifag @humanvoicebox

@plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural @commissions4aid-international @nabulsi @stil-lindigo @soon-palestine @communistchilchuck @ghost-and-a-half @kyra45-helping-others @kyra45 @feluka @appsa @schoolhater @irhabiya @transmutationisms @ibtisams @malcriada @flower-tea-fairies

@baby-girl-aaron-dessner @dlxxv-vetted-donations @troythecatfish

@rebecca-levin-art @ana-bananya @vakarians-babe @mangocheesecakes

[jjunieworld]

THE SALT UNDER THE SEA ˒˒ 심재윤͏ ⨾ 박종성 ▸  part two of the player’s game series⌇playlist & series tag

the death of your grandma has you returning back to your mother’s seaside hometown—the same town you left jake in a year ago—for good. now that you’re back, so are the feelings you really desperately wished to leave behind. it doesn’t help that now you’re caught in the crossfire of two guys with a rough past who want to be with you.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ sim jaeyun x reader, park jongseong x reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 cousin jungwon, bestfriend!jay, player!sunghoon, and oc hana (jake’s ex)

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ exes to lovers, bestfriends to ???, angst, smut, fluff, lifeguard!jake, ex player!jake, bestfriend!jay, lifeguard!jay, lifeguarding inaccuracies, love triangle, slice of life, some h2o references, beach au, summer romance

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ if you didn’t like reader in the first part then you won’t like her in this one, reader’s grandma passing, alcohol, multiple unprotected sex scenes, soft dom!jake, mean dom!jay, toxicity, jayke constantly one-uping each other, jealousy and possessiveness, arguing, size training, marking, inexperienced!reader, blowjob/handjob, riding, corruption kink, jake is a munch, pussy eating, oral fixation?, cum swallowing, slight fingering, petnames (baby, pretty, good girl), name calling (slut, whore), praise, reader gets talked through it, creampies, degradation, hair pulling (both m. & f. rec), dirty talk, rough sex, overstimulation, slight manhandling, body worship, dumbification?, cockwarming, service top!jake, pussy drunk!jayke, pictures & videos taken during sex, cumshots/facials

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ literally went through hell trying to get this part two out but here we are!!! once again, this is for the lovely @jjunberry ♡ literally this wouldn’t even be here without you so i hope you like it!! (⁎˃ᆺ˂) thank you to all of you for being on this (very long) journey with me! hehe ^^ i hope you all enjoy this!! ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

∿ [ 27.5k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

[ BEFORE — ONE MONTH SINCE LAST SUMMER ] 𓇼 the salt in your wounds still lingers.

just when you thought your life was finally getting better, finally getting back on track after the summer you’ve had, everything comes crashing down with just one phone call.

it was like watching a car crash in slow motion, your mother’s face. you knew from the start that your grandma wasn’t going to make it, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. a mere month since you left… would things be different if you and your mom stayed in her seaside hometown like originally planned? deep down, it felt like it was all your fault.

two more months passed before your grandma passed on. “from the sea i came and to the sea i shall return,” she always told you. “don’t be sad when i go, when you see the ocean waves that will be me saying hello.” the day it happened your mom had already booked the next flight out for her funeral.

going through your belongings as you pack your bags makes your guilt run deeper and all it does is make your mind flash back to just three months ago when you were by the sea and everything felt too much. your eyes travel to your dresser—jake’s note and all the developed pictures sat safely in an old jewelry box that you haven’t touched since putting the items in there. you didn’t even look at the pictures after you had gotten them developed, it just hurt too much.

still, your mind was muddled and as you finished packing your suitcase to the brim nothing became clearer. these three months gave you plenty of time to think over the entirety of last summer with detached emotions—a new perspective.

do you still love jake? of course you did, it’s most likely that you always will. how could you not? he was your first love. do you forgive him for everything that he put you through last summer? you still weren’t sure.

but damn if you didn’t miss him.

for the first time you felt the urge to look at the pictures you and him took—fingers twitched towards the jewelry box. with a sigh, you stood from your bed and grabbed it, the soft music playing as you opened the lid. carefully, you grabbed the pictures and made your way back to your bed.

as you flipped through all of them, a memory came to the forefront of your mind with each photo.

a smile pulled at your lips at the photo, it was of you with a shocked smile next to a brightly smiling jake. his arm was around your waist and the two of you were almost chest to chest. “i want my first memory to be of you.”

another of the two of you, a wall of graffiti behind you—right after your first kiss. jake was pressing a kiss to your cheek and you looked flustered. “you said you wanted physical memories, right? say cheese!”

the last one you looked at was of you, jake, and sunghoon before you noticed the tears blurring your vision. the three of you smiling as jake pulled you all close together for the camera. “group picture!”

you glanced over to your phone on your bed. even now, jake still contacts you everyday—even if you don’t answer him. mainly it’s been him checking up on you and making sure that you’re okay, asking how your day was. you haven’t answered a single one of them, yet he hasn’t stopped. against your better judgement, you read every message that came in—the most recent being his condolences.

you don’t know what to say to him. so many things have been left unsaid that every time you go to type a message your fingers freeze and your mind runs with everything you want to tell him. then you decide to just not say anything at all. besides, you didn’t think you'd ever see him again, so what’s the point?

if you were being honest, a part of you is still closed off, untrusting of him. you didn’t want to give your heart to him in fear he might break it again. you refused to feel like that again.

with a heavy and shaky sigh you put the pictures back where they belonged and made your way downstairs with your suitcase.

the next day you were on a flight to your mother’s seaside hometown, just like you were three months ago. jake’s letter filled your mind and your dreams surrounded him.

“i love you. i love you. i love—”

your mom nudged you awake just as the plane was beginning to land. you rubbed your bleary eyes and blinked rapidly to try and get your eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. nudging you again, your mom said, “wake up, we’re about to land.”

deja vu hit you and hit you hard. rolling out your sore neck, you prepared yourself for the landing. you still hated planes.

the drive to your aunt’s house was silent, as you got settled in and prepared for the funeral it was even quieter. your ears practically rang with the sound of silence and your body felt like it weighed a ton with the heaviness lingering in the air.

you all were dressed in black in the living room. your aunt was desperately trying to lighten the mood, and it was only half working. “come on everyone, you know she’d come back from the grave and kill us if she saw our faces right now! she wouldn’t want us to be sad.”

your mom nodded sadly, reciting your grandma’s words. “don’t be sad when i go, when you see the ocean waves that will be me saying hello.”

“exactly! now let’s go and celebrate the life she lived instead of being sad it came to an end!” your aunt smiled softly.

it was a lovely service, your grandma’s funeral. you think that she would be happy with it.

you and jungwon decided to walk back home after the funeral. honestly, you both didn’t think you could be in a car with the dark cloud surrounding you all, it felt too claustrophobic.

on the way home you both stopped at a food place since you were still hungry. the two of you ate silently before jungwon looked behind you and suddenly stood to his feet, murmuring a quick “i’ll be right back.”

you looked behind you at his retreating figure, confused. just as you were turning back to your food you saw it out of the corner of your eye. your heart stopped. you could barely see with jungwon blocking the way but you could spot him anywhere.

it was jake.

you continued eating. you weren’t ready to face him, especially not right now. you don’t think you could even look at him right now. instead, you opted to watch the scene from the corner of your eye.

you could barely hear jungwon and jake’s conversation, only managing to hear jungwon say, “she really doesn’t need any drama right now, man…” jake backed off, but not before you turned and the two of you made the briefest of eye contact before you quickly looked away, taking another bite out of your sandwich.

all you managed to catch was the blonde of his hair that he pushed off his forehead as he turned.

now you wished you took the chance to get a good look at him. it’s only been three months since you last saw him, but already you were forgetting the exact color of his eyes and the way his voice sounded. were they more of a honey brown or a mahogany? you didn’t remember.

it was eating away at you how much you already forgot.

you and jungwon finished your food in silence. before the two of you walked back home, he asked if you wanted to swim before you left. you shook your head as you stared out to the sea. it was a sunny day, but you just couldn’t bear to step off the boardwalk. “maybe next time i visit,” you said, though you didn’t know if there would be a next time.

[ RETURN — A YEAR SINCE YOU’VE TOUCHED SAND ] 𓇼 two hundred seventy-four days since you’ve last seen him.

your heart beat fast as you looked out the plane window to your mother’s seaside hometown—your new home. there was no need for your mom to nudge you awake since you weren’t able to sleep for the entirety you were on the plane, the nerves were eating at you.

you never thought you’d be back here, never thought that you’d ever say goodbye to your own hometown—which was also your late father’s—but here you were.

when your mom told you that you’d be moving here permanently you didn’t know how to feel. on one hand, you understood your mom’s decision. it was just you and her out there miles away from your family and everything must’ve reminded her of your father. it reminded you of him too. on the other hand, you desperately wished she would change her mind.

it was enough seeing that one glimpse of jake nine months ago, but to see him over and over and over again? you didn’t think you could take it. he still texted you, even more now since, and you still haven’t answered. things between the two of you still remain unsaid.

but you also couldn’t help but count down the seconds until you laid your eyes on him again. it set your skin alight and you couldn’t help the small smile on your face and the giddiness you felt. was it selfish, yes, but after everything you think you’re finally ready to face him again.

to give your relationship another chance. to give him your heart again and not be fearful that he would break it, that he’d keep it guarded and safe. after all, he said he would wait for you.

and if he didn’t protect your heart, you’d pull back and it would be as if you never had anything to do with him again.

“y/n? are you listening?” you heard your mother’s voice call out. you snapped back to reality, blinking a couple of times to get your wits.

you were no longer on the plane. now you were lugging suitcases into your aunt’s house. your aunt was delighted to hear that you and your mom would be moving here. there was plenty of room in the house until the two of you got your own place.

“mhm,” you mumbled, though you definitely weren’t listening.

your mom sat the suitcase she was carrying in front of you and grabbed your shoulders. “is it that boy from last summer? what was his name? jacob?”

“jake,” jungwon answered for you as he walked out the front door to grab more boxes.

your mom snapped her fingers. “jake! that’s it. listen, i know you had some problems moving here because of him, but use this as a way to put yourself out there more than last summer! there’s more wonderful people here than just jake.” she gave you a sympathetic smile and continued carrying stuff inside while you remained planted to the same spot in the driveway.

it wasn’t “just jake” that worried you. it was all of his friends and hana. you didn’t want another summer full of drama, especially if you and jake did start dating again.

getting all your boxes and suitcases into the house went quick and relatively easy. you decided on unpacking all of your things later, right now your mind was too clouded.

jake’s letter sat carefully in your anxious hands. you must’ve read it a million times over now and you could barely wrap your head around it still.

“two people who are meant to be will always find a way back to each other. and we are meant to be. no matter how long it takes, i’ll wait for you.”

it was now or never. you grabbed your phone and opened your messages up to your conversation with jake. his last message was from this morning, hoping that you had a good day today. he must not know that you’re back and for good. with a shaky sigh, you let your fingers move across the keyboard.

you: meet me at our spot.

your hands shook as you quickly made your way downstairs and out the front door. your heart raced and your breathing was labored as you let your feet guide you. the more you thought about jake the faster your feet carried you towards him.

you felt the smile grow on your face as you caught a glimpse of the sea and the sand, the grittiness already finding its way into your sandals. you were moving so fast that you didn’t notice the person in front of you until you smacked directly into their chest.

“oh my god!” you exclaimed as you came to a sudden halt, eyes wide, “i’m so sorry, i wasn’t paying attention to where i was going!”

“we’ve got to stop meeting like this,” a familiar voice joked. you looked up, the smile on your face widening more as you stood face to face with jay again. his smile matched yours and you laughed out of disbelief.

“jay!” you laughed, “it’s been a while, how have you been?”

jay ran a hand through his damp hair. “same old, same old. how have you been? i heard you left this place for dead! never thought i’d see you back here again.” the teasing in his voice was obvious but you could see the concern in his eyes. flashes of the last time you saw him ran through your mind. funnily enough, you ran straight into him just a year ago while running from jake.

your smile faltered slightly but you tried your hardest to not think about last year. “well, let me be the first to tell you that i’m back for good!” jay’s eyebrows raised in shock and you nodded. “just moved back with my mom! you’ll be seeing me around a lot more now,” you continued playfully.

“i’m sorry about your loss, by the way,” jay said, expression suddenly serious. you waved a hand in the air, letting him know that it was okay. time and place. “well, i’m glad you’re back! this place really sucks without someone like you around,” jay added.

laughing you shook your head slightly, “then we should hang out sometime!”

“text me the plans and i’m there!” jay replied and pulled out his phone. he passed it to you with a “new contact” screen opened and you quickly filled out your information.

“i gotta go, but we will be hanging out sometime this week!” you waved as you began to step away. jay nodded with a smile. “clear your schedule!” you tossed over your shoulder as you walked away. behind you, you heard jay’s laugh.

“wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

you shook your head, continuing on your path to you and jake’s “spot.” this time you took your walk slow so you wouldn’t run headfirst into anybody else.

jake nodded along absentmindedly to whatever sunghoon was saying to him, not listening at all as he stared out at the people swimming in the ocean and the calm ocean waves.

he was bored out of his mind.

suddenly his phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his pocket. jake blinked a couple times to make sure what he was seeing was real. once he saw that it was you who was undoubtedly texting him, he jumped to his feet.

you: meet me at our spot.

“—and then i told her that i already warned her. this is the relationship that she—hey! what the fuck, jake?” sunghoon called behind him as jake suddenly took off.

jake could care less about sunghoon right now when you were here. you’re finally back, and not only that—you’re asking to see him. jake feels like his heart might explode. nine months since he’s last gotten the tiniest glimpse of you. nine months since he last had his breath taken away. a whole year since you’ve slipped through his fingers.

he wasn’t letting you go this time.

“where are you going?” sunghoon yelled, yet jake made no efforts to stop or even slow down. distantly, he could hear sunghoon shout, “asshole!”

like always, jake made it to your spot before you did. it’s only mere seconds until you’re arriving after him, taking his breath away once again as he goes to turn and sees you standing there.

you look so different, yet the exact same as when he last saw you. all jake can do is stare at you wide-eyed, mouth agape as his head completely empties.

“y/n,” jake finally breathes.

in response, you inhale sharply. “jake…” you notice that his hair is it’s natural color—a dark brown. the blonde hair he had last year is nowhere to be seen whatsoever and his hair is even longer than it was, half of it disheveled and touching the top of his lips and the other half tucked semi-neatly behind his ear. and his eyes… how could you ever forget?

brown moonstone. they look just as they did when the two of you laid under the stars together.

without thinking the two of you rush towards each other before abruptly stopping just inches away. hesitantly, jake closes the gap as he reaches towards you and gently places his hand on your cheek. you can feel the way it tremors—as if his hand might go through you. he takes a small step towards you until you can almost feel his breath fan across your cheeks as your eyes flutter closed for the briefest of moments.

as they open you look up at him, at the eyes that put you through so much. you pressed your lips to his softly.

instantly, jake is kissing you back. in it, you can feel everything that he’s been wanting to say to you for the past year. the kiss is desperate, searing, and passionate. it rips the oxygen right from your lungs and still you wrap your arms around jake’s neck to pull him closer. like if you stopped kissing him the world would crumble beneath the two of you.

only when you both can’t stand the suffocation anymore do you pull away—just barely. your heavy breathing mixes and your eyes are still closed. your grip on the back of his shirt tightens and jake leans his forehead against yours heavily.

“i missed you,” he says, just above a whisper. “i missed you so fucking much, you don’t understand. i’m so sorry.”

you kiss him again because it’s the only way you can show him how much you missed him too. jake’s hands move to your waist and pulls you closer so you’re completely pressed up against him.

memories of last summer force it’s way through your clouded mind. the two of you standing in this exact spot as he begged you not to leave.

abruptly, you broke away from him, hands pushing against his chest as you took several steps back. you turned your back to him as you tried to catch your breath, running your hands down your face. inhaling sharply, tears sprang to your eyes at all of the overwhelming emotions you were feeling. exhaling, you tried to steady your heartbeat that filled your ears.

being in this place wasn’t helping. as you looked around the rocky walls, more and more memories flowed through your mind. “i hate you,” you spoke, turning completely to face jake. your voice lacked the punch the phrase needed. instead, it sounded almost… defeated. a tear slid down your cheek.

“i know,” jake replied. he knew what you were really saying, could feel it in the same desperate way you kissed him back.

“and i hate you for what you’ve done to me,” you added while drawing closer to him.

“i know.”

you drew closer until your tight fists we’re resting against his chest. you avoided his eyes as more tears fell. “and i hate that i spent the entire year we were apart only thinking about you—i hate you.”

jake could feel the way your body shook against him. he took your closed fists into his hands. “i know, baby, i know.”

and he did. he knew that “i hate you” really meant “i love you.” and you did. you really did love him.

jake moved your hands back to your sides, letting them go but having his hands still hovering near them. “walk with me?” he asked, moving to wipe your tears away with the pads of his thumbs gently. you nodded in response as you stared at him finally. jake dipped his head down towards you and softly pressed a kiss against your lips before guiding you out of the cave-like opening.

silently, the two of you walked side-by-side in the sand through less populated paths. you both didn’t speak, and it was probably for the best as you both processed everything between the two of you.

you were walking along an empty part of the beach, the sun just beginning to set, when you decided to break the silence. “i missed you too,” you spoke, your eyes following the way your feet left footprints in the sand.

you looked to your side at jake, “i really missed you.”

the two of you came to a stop. jake looked at you with furrowed brows, like he still couldn’t believe if what he was experiencing right now was true or not. he kissed you.

if even possible, this kiss was more passionate and desperate than the last. your already swollen lips were hot to the touch and no matter how much the two of you pulled each other closer, it wasn’t close enough. the kiss then turned feverish and you both pulled away to breathe. a silent question hung in the air and you nodded ever so slightly.

jake then intertwined your hands, pulling you off into some direction you weren’t familiar with until he was pulling you into a house that you could only assume was his. you barely even wrapped your head around the fact that you were actually in his house for the first time before he was pulling you up the stairs and into his room.

his lips met yours again and finally all the unsaid things spilled out from between the two of you as you pulled each other’s clothes off. jake laid you on the bed, fingers just barely gripping the waistband of your shorts and underwear. you were under him in just that and your bra.

“yes or no?” he asked you breathlessly, voice low.

“yes,” you responded. just as fast as you did, you were half naked underneath him. jake didn’t wait as he unclasped your bra with one hand and tossed it somewhere out of sight as his lips smashed against yours. he pulled away and you barely got to blink before the both of you were completely naked.

you watched as jake reached over to his nightstand and grabbed the ponytail off of it. he messily tied back his hair before placing hot kisses down your stomach. you fought the urge not to moan. he continued slowly down your stomach and just when he reached right above where you needed him the most, he looked up at you with his signature smirk.

you inhaled and his lips attached to your core, causing you to gasp loudly. his arms wrapped tightly around your thighs to keep them apart as his tongue pulled you closer and closer over the edge. you almost broke completely when he pushed his fingers inside you, curling them at just the right angle that made you see stars.

your hands were in his hair—messing up his already messy ponytail—and your moans filled his bedroom, not even worried that someone else could be in the house. all you cared about was how good he was making you feel and how much you missed his body on yours.

it didn’t take long until the rope was snapping and you shakily told him that you were about to cum. moments later jake’s fingers and mouth was dripping and he was licking them clean while you hazily stared at him, mind too foggy until his lips were suddenly on yours again and his hands were trailing up your sides.

“i need you,” you whined softly as you stared into jake’s eyes, “please.” you clawed at his back in attempt to bring him closer, your body on fire and he was the only way to bring down the heat.

jake pressed a soft kiss to your lips and looked down between your bodies as he lined his hard and dripping cock up with your entrance. he looked up, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you nodded in return, bucking your hips up slightly and gasping when the tip of his cock grazed your sensitive clit.

slowly, jake pushed into you and it was much less uncomfortable than it was the first time. he waited a moment, eyeing the way your body reacted before looking at you in a silent question. you nodded and slowly he began to move.

high-pitched moans and whimpers left your mouth the more and more your body adjusted to him, and the more and more euphoric you felt. you and jake left love bites all over each other’s bodies without a care of the fact that it was in places people could definitely see, you were too caught up in the feeling of him surrounding you and jake was too caught up in the fact that you were finally in his arms again.

he barely let you out of his grasp, body firmly pushed against yours, as he moved in and out of you at a steady pace. his head was cloudy with your pretty sounds and his lips nipped at any skin he could. jake wished the both of you could stay like this forever, just the two of you together. he was scared of what would happen when he pulled out of you and it all ended.

would you regret it? say it was a mistake and that he should pretend like it never happened? or would this push the two of you back together again like he hoped? after all, you were the only one for him.

you inhaled sharply, brows drawn together and back arching off the soft blankets, and jake knew your body well enough before you started to clench down on him that you were about to come undone on him again. “j-jake…” you whimpered as your eyes squeezed shut.

“shh, baby, i know.” he moved so his thumb was now rubbing circles into your clit and watched the way you tried to shut your legs with a soft chuckle. he held them apart with his free hand. “let go for me,” he murmured, continuing his pace.

jake moaned and bit down hard on his bottom lip the more you clenched down on his poor cock. he felt like he was going to lose it at any moment as he tried to bring you closer and closer to the edge. “that feels good, yeah?” he asked you, accent thick and low. that sent you right over the edge, incoherent words falling from your lips, and you made a complete mess on his cock.

“shit,” jake said sharply before a moan escaped him. the sight went straight to his dick and it was almost instant with the way it twitched and he was cumming inside you, filling you up even more. his hips moved lazily, watching the way the cum spilled out of you and around him, painting his cock a pretty white.

slowly he pulled out of you and you whined at the loss of him, fingernails digging into his shoulders. more creamy white spilled out of you in a thick load and jake fought the urge to not push himself back into you and fuck you again.

he kissed your inner thighs and slowly made his way up your stomach and until he reached your lips in a heated kiss. your fingers raked through his hair, causing it to fall from the ponytail and spill out around both of your faces. once the both of you pulled away for air, you couldn’t help but giggle.

“what?” jake said, looking down at you with a bright smile. you shook your head. you were honestly just glad to be with him. you leaned up to catch his lips in another kiss. it felt like you were addicted to his lips and you cursed yourself in your head for ever putting you in the situation where you might’ve never been able to kiss them again.

jake looked at you fondly. “stay here, i’ll get something to clean you up.”

after a brief moment he came back with a damp cloth and a towel and gently wiped you down, making sure not to press too hard since you were still sensitive. once he was satisfied he laid down next to you and pulled you to his chest. “you did so good for me, pretty.”

your heart swirled at the familiar petname.

you weren’t sure when the two of you fell asleep or for how long, the sun’s golden rays just peaking above the horizon and starting a beautiful sunset, before you woke up. jake was still sound asleep next to you, the two of you still naked, and you slowly and quietly got up from the bed. you decided to take a look around his room since you’ve never been in it before.

he had old trophies and medals for various things, one of them being swimming, along with pictures of what you assumed to be an old swim team. there was pictures of his family and friends around that brought a smile to your face the more you looked at them. one in particular caught your eye. it was a polaroid of jake, jay, and jake’s bestfriend sunghoon.

you eyes widened. you thought jake and jay hated each other—if last summer was anything to show. why did they have a picture together? under it you saw that somebody wrote “swimming buds for life!” you checked the other pictures he had around again but this was the only photo that included jay. it made your head spin.

a familiar picture on his desk caught your eyes and you moved towards that instead. jake had gotten the pictures you took last summer developed too and had even dated them on the back. gently, you took the stack into your hands and looked at the picture on top.

it was the two of you at the abandoned skate park where you had your first kiss together. your head was tilted against his as you both smiled for the camera. a smile made its way onto your face and continued to grow as you continued flipping through the pictures, making your way to sit on the edge of jake’s bed.

you felt movement behind you and suddenly arms were wrapped around you as jake leaned up behind you to look over your shoulder. you gasped lightly when his hands rested at the lowest part of your hips and he placed feather-light kisses along your neck. “your awake,” you smiled as a chill ran down you, causing jake to chuckle lowly, sleep still at the edges of his voice. “i am.”

suddenly you were reminded at the fact that you both were still naked and the way your pussy now throbbed at his sleepy voice. you swallowed thickly and turned your attention back to the pictures in your hands. flipping the picture on the top to the back, you gasped and turned to jake in slight shock.

in your hands laid multiple pictures of you completely fucked out and dripping cum on a picnic blanket, illuminated by the moonlight and the flash of the camera. “asshole!” you nudged jake with a shocked smile and pulling a laugh from him. “i can't believe you took pictures of this!”

you looked back to the pictures with wide eyes as jake laughed more. “not funny…” you mumbled with a pout. you held one up where you were in full view of the camera along with jake’s cum covered cock hovering above you, “i look so out of it.”

jake took the photo from you and inspected it with a grin. “you were.”

you nudged him again, hard. jake laughed and wrapped his arms around you to pull you into him, placing kisses along your jaw. “it doesn’t matter,” he started, leaning his head against yours so his lips were near your ear, “these ones are for my eyes only.”

you giggled sheepishly, pushing him away from you as you tried to not let a wet patch form beneath you. you looked towards the window through the barely opened blinds. the sun was just about to set and you knew your mom was most likely wondering where you’ve been all day. jake followed your stare and you heard him sigh softly. “i should probably head home,” you stated quietly.

you turned to look at him, seriousness suddenly seeping into your features. “we’re gonna have to talk about this… about what this all means…”

“we can go slow,” jake said, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. “it’ll mean whatever you want it to mean.”

“bit too late to go slow,” you chuckled and he followed. you looked down to your lap, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the towel next to you. “i really don’t want drama this summer, jake.”

you glanced up to look him in the eyes, those pretty brown eyes of his. “i don’t think i can take another summer full of it,” you continued. jake nodded in agreement.

“this summer is just for the two of us. i promise.”

you let his words sink in before leaning up to place your lips against his in a soft and slow kiss. “now…” jake said as he pulled away, “are we just gonna stay naked, or what? because i’m really starting to lose my mind over here.”

heat crept across your face, especially as his eyes dropped to your nakedness. you covered your face with your hands as you turned away, jake’s laughter behind you, and moved to where he threw your articles of clothing. “timeout!” you muttered, as you pulled your panties on.

jake laughed more, “again?! hm, we’ll see…” he got up to get clothed as well. “let me walk you home.”

[ SUMMER — THE TIDES ARE PULLED BY THE MOON ] 𓇼 and you are pulled by him.

you almost jumped out of you skin, fingers grabbing at your pajamas, as you opened the bathroom door and were immediately face to face with your cousin jungwon. “jesus!” you nearly screeched as you held onto the door.

“so… jake walking you home, huh? what’s that all about?” jungwon asked. he took a few steps back to let you leave the doorway of the bathroom and you leaned against the wall nearest to it.

it was dark outside now and your face heated at the mention of jake. fumbling over your words slightly, you replied, “we were just… talking things from last summer over. he wanted to apologize in person.”

more heat spread across your face. it was surely one way to apologize…

in order for jungwon to not see your flustered face, you turned and made your way to your room, jungwon following in tow. you opened your door and walked around the room as you got ready for bed. discreetly, you tried to hide all of the love bites on you, suddenly regretting being so careless about where jake marked you.

“hm,” jungwon hummed, “are you planning on getting back together with him?” he sat at the edge of your bed, eyes trailing your movements. you saw the way his eyes stared too hard at a spot on your neck with a raised eyebrow.

you sighed softly. truly, you weren’t sure quite yet. you had just arrived and it was too early to tell how this summer was going to fair. and you really didn’t want this summer to be a repeat of the last one. you wanted to get more settled in before you decided to make any rash decisions—even though you and jake had already slept together just mere hours after you arrived.

you sighed to yourself again. maybe that wasn’t the best of ideas.

“i don’t know,” you replied, plopping down onto your bed next to him. “after everything… i-i just don’t want to be caught in another web. i can’t go through that again.”

jungwon nodded solemnly and rested a comforting hand on your back. “whatever you choose—be careful, y/n.”

this time you felt the gravity of his words—the same words he told you last summer when he tried to warn you in meddling in things you were unfamiliar with. in getting involved with jake and his and his friends’ game. when everyone tried to warn you.

even if jake claims that he’s changed, you needed to see it for yourself. not just through words, but through actions. and then, and only then, would you consider giving your whole relationship another chance.

“whatever happens, i’m here for you,” jungwon continued. you gave him a warm smile. “i will. and thank you,” you replied.

after talking to jungwon you decided to text jake with your requirements. your thumbs fiddled with each other and your heart raced as you waited for the three little dots that indicated he was replying to show up.

jake: i promise you i’ll do anything it takes to earn your trust back. anything. i’ll show you that giving us another chance will be worth it, that giving me another chance is worth it.

“everything is exactly the same as before, so there shouldn’t be any trouble,” mrs. song said as she led you back towards the front of the juice bar. you nodded in response as you followed her. “can you start later this week? say… wednesday?” she added in question.

“yes!” you nodded again politely. “wednesday is good! oh—can i ask you a quick question?”

“shoot,” mrs. song replied while waving off some kid trying to climb over the counter for more of the candy that sat in a bowl.

“last summer, a girl named hana worked here with me… does she still work here?” you asked as you looked to the floor with furrowed brows. pain stabbed through your heart and your mouth felt like it was full of sand just from saying her name. you hated the feelings her name evoked in you.

to think that you had an actual friend here in her… when all she wanted was to use you for her own gain. you knew it would be a ridiculous hope with how small the town was, but you still hoped you never saw her face again. never heard her name again. never felt these feelings that she caused. if you ever saw her again it would be too soon.

“oh, hana?” mrs. song questioned while focusing her attention back on you. “fired her not long after you left. horrible employee—i don’t know why i didn’t fire her sooner. or hired her in the first place.”

you let out a small sigh of relief that mrs. song seemed to pick up on. there was no way you could spend another summer sharing the same space as hana. it was impossible.

“you had problems with her too, yeah? hm,” mrs. song snorted.

after a bit more chatting and going over your future schedule you began to head out, trailing slowly along the shore. water lapped at your feet and your sandals swung limply from your fingers as you stared out at the calm waves. you think you could like it here after all.

“y/n!” you heard your voice being called.

breaking your attention from the sea, you turned in the direction of the voice. a smile grew onto your face. “jay!” you called back as he jogged up to you. “nice seeing you again!”

jay stood in front of you, holding a hand up to block the sun from getting in his eyes while he used his other hand to push his hair off of his forehead. you guided him away from the shore and towards one of the empty tables on the boardwalk. “was just getting ready to start my shift!” he replied.

you then noticed the outfit he was wearing—red shorts and a white tank top that read “GUARD” in bold red capital letters. a red lanyard with a whistle attached hung around his neck and he had a red visor tucked under his arm.

the two of you sat at the empty table and jay placed his visor onto it. he leaned forward slightly, a big smile on his face, “but i still have time to chat.”

and just like that it felt as if you were back at that campfire talking about anything and everything—like you and jay had been friends for forever now and it hasn’t been a year since you’ve last seen each other. the two of you just fell into such a natural sync.

you were even opening up to him about everything that happened last summer. mainly because you really couldn’t talk to anyone about it but him. he already understood all of the context and it was just so easy to talk to jay. you hadn’t realized how much you just needed a friend. and jay listened to it all attentively, not missing a single beat and inquiring about things you haven’t even realized.

“but enough about my past…” you murmured sheepishly, turning to the side to try and hide how warmth spread across your face. you just spend ten minutes talking about yourself and your problems without regarding the fact that it was probably coming off as extremely rude. “so how has the past year been for you?” you asked him.

you then gave him a cheeky smile. “any girls you’ve been seeing? interested in? tell me!”

jay laughed and shook his head a little. “no, i haven’t been seeing anyone. pretty much everyone here i’ve known for forever now… not the best candidates.” he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms as he looked at you through his lashes. the corners of his mouth rose and he looked off to the side. “there has been this one girl, though… she’s definitely caught my interest.”

you gasped and leaned forward with your hands flat on the table. “what?! why didn’t you say anything sooner? i’ve been over here talking about my pathetic love life when we could've been talking about how good yours is going! have you talked to her yet? what’s her name?” the words flew out your mouth a mile a minute.

jay held his hands up as he chuckled, “woah, woah, slow down. i’ve talked to her a couple times now—but only briefly! i think she’s new in town, probably been here just a little bit longer than you have, actually.”

you grinned, “i’m excited for you! you gotta let me know how it all plays out. and don’t think i didn’t realize how you didn’t tell me her name!” jay’s face quickly turned red.

he stood from his chair, “ah, well, it’s all very new… haha, oh look at the time! my shift is about to start! bye, y/n!” he turned quickly as his words blurted out, throwing his words over his shoulder.

you rolled your eyes and stood to your feet. “whatever, i’ll get it out of you soon enough…”

jay pulled you into a hug as he nervously chuckled. “i seriously doubt it!” he mumbled under his breath before he jogged off.

“i will get her name out of you!” you called as you shook your head at him and watched his retreating figure, smiling softly.

you turned and continued walking aimlessly through the sand, feet sinking into the grains and leaving footprints. you watched as kids laughed and played with each other, darting around you and muttering passing apologies.

you were focused on the kid that almost ran into you running after their friends, not focused at all on the way jake crept up on you. “boo!” he shouted by your ear. you nearly jumped out of your skin, a loud yell erupting from your mouth. once you realized that it was just him, you hit him in his chest hard.

“jake?! are you serious!” you scolded, heat rushing to your face in embarrassment. you covered your face and he pulled you into him as he laughed hysterically. you buried your face in his chest briefly before turning out of his grasp and quickly walking away from the scene, trying to ignore the pairs of eyes that were on you.

jake trailed behind you and you heard him laugh more. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry! but that was so funny!” he said as he caught up to you. “you should’ve seen your face.”

he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him. “what are you doing here?” jake asked as he glanced down at you.

“getting my old job back, what are you doing here?” you asked in response, “besides scaring me half to death?”

his smile grew, “came down here bored, until i saw you.” his eyes lit up suddenly. “oh! we should make another bucket list for this summer! since… since we didn’t get to finish the one from last summer…” he trailed off, eyes looking to the side briefly in regret.

you smiled at him, trying to diffuse the sudden awkward tension. “we should!”

jake guided you near the shore and the two of you sat in the sand. the two of you debated what to do this summer for a while, only managing to come up with a couple of things. one of which was going to this year’s summer splash event since you left last year before it happened.

“you’ll still be my date, right?” jake asked shyly. you chucked and nodded. “if you’ll still have me!”

jake gave you that same fond stare that he gave you before you left his house and it made butterflies erupt in your stomach. “of course i do,” he said.

it was such a simple sentence filled with so much. your brows knitted together ever so slightly and you watched the way his eyes darted towards your lips. it then seemingly felt like it was only the two of you on the beach, and you swear that the two of you slowly moved closer to each other.

the sudden shrill of a child’s cry broke the two of you out of your trance and you both snapped towards where a kid was crying over the way the sea messed up his sandcastle. you turned towards jake again and gave him a sheepish smile.

“uh—how about swimming! um, you teach me how to swim… since i can’t…” you sputtered awkwardly, hands waving in the air at the ocean. jake chuckled at the way you suddenly reverted back to your timid nature around him and nodded.

“yeah… i can teach you how to swim!”

you nodded after him. jake began to stand to his feet and you looked at him confused. “i can teach you now, in fact. do you have your bathing suit?”

you rose to your feet as well and nodded. you pulled the tank top strap off your shoulder and looked down to double check, nodding again when you saw the white fabric of your bikini.

jake tucked his finger underneath the thin strap that tied the bikini top around your neck. he pulled at it lightly before letting go and then smirked at you. “good,” he said simply.

your cheeks were already flushed with heat, but the heat just got hotter when you realized why he was smirking. it was the bathing suit you wore to the beach party.

playfully—and in an attempt to mask your warm face—you rolled your eyes and looked away from him. “get your mind out of the gutter,” you mumbled.

jake laughed, “all i said was ‘good!’”

“anyway,” you said, “we should add our names to that skate park! i feel like that would help me really cement my being here permanently.”

laughing harder, jake replied, “isn’t that vandalism? are you even good at graffiti?” he suddenly stopped laughing, expression serious. “wait—permanently? you’re here permanently?!”

still on the subject of the skate park, you shrugged. “it’s abandoned anyways, isn’t it? and how hard is it to use a spray can to write our names? it’s not like we’re tagging it, tagging it.”

jake grabbed your shoulders and your focus zeroed in on him. his eyes were wide as he looked into yours. “you’re here permanently?!” he repeated. you nodded, confusion shifting into realization at the fact that you haven’t told him yet. “yes, permanently. my mom and i moved here the day we met at our spot,” you said.

jake’s hands moved from your shoulders to cup your face. he then kissed you passionately, absolutely taking your breath away. you giggled when he pulled away and he started kissing you all over your face. “jake!” you giggled more, pushing him away from you slightly.

“i’m sorry,” he said a bit breathlessly, “you just don’t know how relieved i am to hear that.” he chuckled awkwardly as he gave you some space and tucked some of his hair behind his ear. “so, skate park? got it, anything you want to do! we have all the time in the world.”

you mind immediately snapped back to the skate park. “i feel like that’s not as adventurous as our last bucket list though!” you pouted.

jake pulled you towards where there were some free towels at the boardwalk. he turned back and cheekily smiled at you, “i can think of something adventurous.” you stopped in your tracks and swatted his shoulder. “i’m just saying!” jake laughed. “we’ve done a lot, but there’s still some things we haven’t done yet… you catch me?”

heat crept up the back of your neck and you crossed your arms across your chest. jake’s eyes darted down to the action. indulging him, you asked, “like what?”

jake stepped closer to you and reached up to mess with the straps of your bikini. he leaned more into you and dropped his voice so only you would hear what he was saying. “different places, different positions… there’s so many things i could do to you that you haven’t experienced yet.” your eyes connected with his.

“or you could do to me,” he added, lower.

you looked away, face on fire. jake dropped his hands from the straps he was fiddling with to his sides. he took another step closer to you until you both were almost chest to chest and grazed his hand along the side of your waist. jake leaned down until his lips were at the shell of your ear. “if you want,” he whispered.

he pulled away, smiling at you like he didn’t just insinuate what he did and cause arousal to pool in your bikini bottoms. he grabbed your wrist lightly and pulled you the rest of the way to the towels, handing you a rolled up one from the basket and taking one from himself.

you were still in shock, eyes wide as you stared at him. you then snapped out of it when you realized he was chuckling. tucking the towel underneath your arm, you used the basket of towels to lean forward towards him. discreetly, you slid your hand down his stomach and stopped right above the hem of his shorts. “sounds fun,” you smiled innocently. “i know exactly what i could do.”

you hand trailed lower before you backed away from him. you held in your laugh at just how quickly the bulge in his shorts was rising and his ears turned red. you looked towards the sea, “so where do you wanna start?” you asked casually. “i’m gonna have to strip these clothes off first.”

you turned back to him and smiled again, that same innocent smile.

the corner of jake’s mouth rose in a “two can play at this game” way. he opened his mouth to speak, but got cut off by someone suddenly entering your conversation. “look at what the cat dragged back in,” the voice said, mean and full of bitterness.

you almost instantly recognized that voice, and it seems that jake did too since his face instantly twisted into one of annoyance and hatred. he moved closer to you while also hiding his boner with the basket of towels.

hana walked up to the two of you with a sneer and a dripping popsicle in one hand. two girls you never seen before trailed behind her with a matching sneer. you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms against your chest, leaning your weight towards jake. “thought the two of you went up in flames last summer?” hana added.

she focused her attention on you, “don’t tell me you’re still falling for his ‘i love you’s’… how lame.”

jake scoffed, before either of you could say anything you noticed jungwon come up to you all. he pushed past the two random girls and shoulder-checked hana as he came to your side. “look what desperation dragged in. i know the saying is ‘misery loves company’ but this is just getting pathetic, hana. don’t you have a job to be at?” hana scoffed and opened her mouth, but jungwon beat her to it.

“oh yeah, you don’t. because you got fired. i think it’s time you go find one, don’t you think?”

hana rolled her eyes. “whatever,” she said, trying to pretend like she wasn’t bothered. she stuck the popsicle in her mouth briefly as she turned towards the girls. “didn’t want to stick around you losers anyways.”

she looked over her shoulder at you, “careful, y/n. you know jake’s still in love with me.” she then winked at him and jake’s face twisted further into disgust.

“you fucking wish. i was never even infatuated with you in the first place. you already know that sunghoon is the reason why i even stayed with you for those four months,” jake spit out, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “stop making my life fucking hell and just move on already. i know i already have.”

you saw the way hana’s face fell and how she quickly masked it with a sickly sweet smile. “keep telling yourself that, jakey,” she said before walking away.

you loudly scoffed at her retreating body and the way she purposefully swayed her hips back and forth as you turned towards jake and jungwon. “the audacity she has is honestly astounding,” jungwon said, face mirroring yours.

“delusional,” you added, “the lot of them.”

“forget her,” jake said as he pulled you and jungwon’s attention back to him. he then smiled, “let’s go swimming!”

“how hard is it to put one arm in front of the other?!” jungwon demonstrated how to use your arms to swim once again as a laugh was pulled from him. he swam out farther into the sea and then swam back, standing where you and jake were. “see? easy.”

“i’m doing the best that i can!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air in mild frustration as the remnants of a wave hit against your stomach.

jake then chimed in, “it’s actually not that easy!” jungwon turned to him in confusion and jake swam out a little from where the two of you stood. “there’s actually a certain way you want to move your arms in order to not hurt your shoulders.”

you turned to jungwon with a triumphant smirk. “see!” you said while crossing your arms. jungwon rolled his eyes.

jake continued demonstrating, specifically pointing out how to move your body to not hurt your shoulders. he also showed how to gain more speed and stay under the water for longer with breathing techniques. “here, let’s do it together,” he said, swimming towards you.

he made sure your positioning was correct and guided you slowly towards the deeper part of where you all stood. “like this! if you’re feeling any type of pain in your shoulders than you’re doing it wrong.”

after a couple minutes of adjusting and positioning, you really thought you were getting the hang of it. when jake was guiding you there wasn’t any pain in your shoulders at all, but as soon as you started to do it on your own you immediately felt the tightness in them. your face scrunched up as you instantly reverted back to doggy paddling, causing jake and jungwon to laugh.

with full shame, you doggy paddled back to where they stood. “you know… i don’t think swimming is for me, actually.”

“i tried teaching her last year,” jungwon started, amusement tinging his voice, “she literally almost drowned. it’s hopeless…” you glared at him and then rolled your eyes. you’d like to think that if it weren’t for the large waves that day that you would’ve been fine.

jake laughed and you glared at him too, though without as much venom. “it’s a good thing i was there!” he looked at you with the biggest smile on his face and you rolled your eyes at him too. they both laughed again as you tried to think of the quickest way to discard bodies on a public beach.

“we’ll try teaching you again another time,” jake continued. “you’re…” he trailed off trying to find the right word for what he was thinking. “horrible,” jungwon concluded.

“still a novice!” jake quickly corrected. you mumbled out a lame insult to the both of them and walked towards your towel on the beach.

they followed after you, still chuckling, as you wrapped the towel around your soaked body. “it’s not all your fault!” jungwon exclaimed. “your hometown didn’t have an ocean, or even a pool, really. don’t blame yourself!” you scoffed at his cheap attempt to make you feel better and the both of you laughed. your hometown barely had a highschool with a pool. you were never taught to swim in school because all the seniors poured so much gasoline into the pool as a prank that your school had to close off the area and it just never reopened.

coincidentally, that was one of the times jungwon was staying with you and your mom. on a dare, he made you venture into the closed off pool room and you almost didn’t make it out alive. yes, the two of you got in a huge amount of trouble by your parents. you made jungwon do all of your chores for the remaining two months he was there.

“we should probably start heading home though,” said jungwon, “i accidentally broke mom’s sculpture while helping auntie move in her stuff and might’ve insinuated that it was your fault…” your eyes widened as you slowly turned to him. he scratched the back of his head guiltily.

“what?!” you nearly shouted.

“yeah…”

you ran your hands down your face as you turned to jake. “i’ll see you later,” you sighed, moving into his open arms for a hug. “or maybe i won’t after this,” you added suddenly.

“i’ll see you later,” jake repeated as he laughed.

as you and jungwon walked off—more like ran since you were currently trying to smother him in the sand—he kept looking behind you and laughing to himself. you caught him the act again just as the two of you were about to leave the boardwalk. he looked behind the two of you, shook his head a little, and laughed. “what?” you asked him. he hummed in question at your response. “what’s so funny?” you continued, looking behind you as well. you couldn’t tell what could possibly be making him laugh.

“oh, nothing.” jungwon looked behind him again. you nudged him with your elbow, trying to get him to confess.

jungwon laughed again. “jake’s been staring at you this entire time with the fondest, most lovesick puppy look i’ve ever seen. i don’t think he moved from that spot or even blinked since we walked away.”

you whipped your head around and looked around until you saw him. indeed, jungwon was right. you smiled to yourself and gave him a little wave. the smile on jake’s face grew as he waved back.

“gross,” jungwon commented as the two of you turned out of jake’s sight.

jake had, once again, put himself in the position where he was forced to listen about sunghoon’s recent victim’s complaints about their relationship. ever since he met you, he questioned how he ever found any of this entertaining. listening to sunghoon go on and on about the girls he wronged just made him feel exhausted—and guilty. jake couldn’t even begin to imagine how the girls he fucked over must’ve felt. the only thing he could come close to was the image of your heartbroken face the day you left him a year ago.

he never wanted to see that face ever again.

“she wanted me to fuck her—i fucked her. i told her not to expect a relationship out of all of this—now she’s crying about how i was dragging her along!” sunghoon ranted to jake as they made their way down to the boardwalk. sunghoon turned to him with an exasperated expression, “i don’t know how more clear i can get!”

jake pulled the whistle from his shorts and put the lanyard around his neck. “have you ever thought of being in a committed relationship with someone?” he asked sunghoon. jake adjusted his lifeguarding outfit as they got closer to the boardwalk.

sunghoon made a face. “dude, be serious. i’m young! i’ll settle down with someone when i’m, like, thirty or whatever.”

rolling his eyes, jake laughed at sunghoon’s reluctance to commit to someone. “if you find anyone willing to be with you that you haven’t fucked over by then.” the two of them laughed and stepped onto the boardwalk. it wasn’t as busy of a day today, which jake was thankful for.

“alright, i gotta go. my shift’s about to start,” jake said and turned to sunghoon. jake clasped sunghoon’s hand and gave him a quick pat on the back.

sunghoon nodded his head over to the lifeguard who was coming off duty—jay. jake tried not to roll his eyes. “incoming, you know how he is,” sunghoon said. “see ya, man.”

they went on their separate paths and jake walked to where jay was so they could switch. jay looked over from where he was grabbing his towel off the elevated chair ladder. jay gave a tight smile to jake, which already made jake’s blood boil. the only thing he could think about when he looked at him was how close the two of you seemed that night at the beach party.

as jay cleared his things for jake, he tried to make small talk to make the tension less awkward and heavy. “have you heard y/n is in back in town? for good?” jay asked. why was he asking him about you?

jake tried to not let his fist meet jay’s face again.

he tried not to be possessive over you, especially since the two of you weren’t even together again yet. and he wasn’t one to try and keep you from your friends, but jay was a whole different story. jake tried to not let the jealousy seep into his voice, “yeah, duh. i’m the first one she saw.”

“hm,” jay hummed as he threw his bag over his shoulder.

what was that supposed to mean? jake side eyed him. he was the first one you saw when you landed, right? jake would absolutely recoil into himself if he wasn’t. surely it wasn’t jay who you saw first, right? jake ignored him and started to set his own stuff down.

“better hope you don’t fuck everything up again, never know who might swoop in and take your place.” there was the jay that jake knew. the asshole under this whole ‘nice guy’ act he had been playing.

jake turned fully to him. “who? you?”

jake almost laughed in his face. jay couldn’t be serious, but he promised you he would try his hardest to not let there be any drama this summer. even if his fingers itched to wipe that slight smug smirk off jay’s face.

jay just shrugged. “could be, who knows? she’s very likable and very beautiful. everywhere she goes she attracts the stare of some guy. and i would say that you know girls don’t like to be treated like garbage, but with your track record that clearly isn’t obvious to you. you already almost lost her for good once.”

jake’s anger boiled over completely and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second to try and calm himself. it did nothing. jake wryly laughed and stepped up to jay. “so you think you can take her from me? you?” jake laughed again. “i’d like to see you try. incase it wasn’t obvious—she’s in love with me, not you. don’t you hate being a pale imitation?”

jake wanted to bring up every way that he had bested jay—down to the smallest thing, such as being able to tie his shoes before him. he would always be the better man. and even if jake wasn’t in some aspect, he would make damn sure that at the end of the day he was. jay had nothing on him, you had to see that.

it angered jake that jay was even talking about you this way. in a way that suggested he could get close enough to you for the two of you to be together instead of you and him. ridiculous, it all was. the only thing jay would be is a lesser version of him, constantly chasing after anything he had that he could never have. jake should’ve put him in his place when he had the chance three years ago.

jay’s smug smirk grew. “i don��t have to do anything. all it takes is her finding out the truth about the piece of shit that you really are and the game you like to play. and what’s inept infatuation to true bonding?” jay patted jake on the shoulder and jake harshly glared at him and pulled his shoulder away. “best of luck,” jay said in a low voice before walking away.

as jake climbed up to his post, the heat of the sun was nothing to the scalding anger inside him. he knew one thing for sure—luck would not be on jay’s side if he had anything to do with it.

you and jake were meant to be together, and jay’s hollow words weren’t going to change that.

jay: hey, are you free? jay: cashing in that rain check to hang out.

you were on your way home, but it couldn’t hurt to hang out with jay. the two of you needed to spend more than twenty minutes together anyway and catch up more.

besides, the picture of him, jake, and sunghoon suddenly crossed your mind, reminding you that you had forgotten to ask jake about it. maybe jay would give you some insight on why the two of them had bad blood between each other when they were once “swimming buds for life!”

you: haha of course! jay: awesome, meet me at the boardwalk? jay: we can hang out at my place. you: i’ll see you there!

you turned around and walked back down the boardwalk, picking an empty table to wait at in a relatively clear area. the polaroid wouldn’t leave your mind as you speculated what could’ve possibly split them apart.

was it just a mere difference of opinion? or was it the two of them simply growing up and going their separate ways? your mind then replayed their interaction at the beach party last year, how angry they were at just seeing each other. it had to be something deeper than that. perhaps some sort of betrayal?

if that was the case, then who betrayed who? and why?

or maybe the reason was because of this game—the player’s game, as jay mentioned. the one that you have already been a victim of. his words crossed your mind, “there’s no winner in the player’s game. it’s best to know that before it’s too late.”

he had to be a victim of the game too, if he was saying that to you. were jake and sunghoon possibly a factor in it?

before you could speculate any further, jay’s voice shocked you out of your thoughts. “hey,” he smiled, grabbing your attention. you smiled back at him as you stood. “hey!”

as the two of you walked to jay’s house, he must’ve saw that your mind was elsewhere. jay nudged into you slightly as you walked side by side. “you’re quiet today, what’s on your mind?” he asked. 

you racked your mind for a way to bring up his and jake’s past friendship subtly, so as to not barge too into their private matters without permission. you decided to try and pose it a different way. “oh, sorry! i just got off work so i’m kind of everywhere right now…” you trailed off, before purposefully perking up as if you just thought of something. “hey, how do you and jake know each other?”

you then internally panicked, thinking that that was maybe too forward, and added, “i’ve been spilling my whole love story with him, and at the beach party the two of you seemed familiar…”

jay’s eyebrows knitted together as he thought over your question. you hoped that you didn’t hit a sensitive subject as you subtly wiped your sweaty palms onto the back of your jean shorts. “we use to be friends—best friends,” jay started, “and on the swim team together back in highschool. him and his friends were just really shitty, so i decided to distance myself from them for my own good.”

you nodded along at his words, trying to place them in the puzzle board in your mind. jay’s answer was vague, but at least it was something—a start. you’d just have to get your answers out of him and jake whenever plausible. 

a house that you assumed was his came up into view as the two of you continued walking. “so how did you get involved with jake? i know i kind of already asked you this before, but i’m still curious.” jay guided you towards the house as he spoke.

you told him about you and jungwon swimming in the ocean and how jungwon left to go get something to eat. about how you then mistakenly went further out despite not knowing to swim and how the waves kept beating you down. then finally about how jake had come and saved you.

jay gave you an incredulous look as he held open the gate to his backyard for you. you nodded in confirmation and his shock only grew. “i’m gonna have to teach you how to swim, then!” he exclaimed.

you looked around his backyard. he had a large in-ground pool with a nice patio set up filled with lounge chairs, tables, and an outside bar. jay’s backyard was absolutely beautiful. 

“apparently i’m a bad student, but it’s a deal!” you joked and jay laughed, leading you to where the lounge chairs were by the pool.

“show me what you got! you can’t be that bad at swimming.” jay then suddenly stripped off his shirt, leaving him in swim trunks. your eyes widened and surveyed the upper half of his body. jay slunk into the pool, going underwater for a few seconds, and surfaced. he slicked back his now wet hair and looked up at you expectantly. “well?” he chuckled.

you laughed, half of it full of shock and the other half full of nervousness, and stood from the chair. you began taking off your tank top and shorts as jay swam away from where you stood. once you were done, you dipped a toe into the water, face scrunching up at the coldness, and slid in completely. you shivered slightly as you slowly walked to where jay stood in the center of the shallow end of the pool.

jay motioned for you to swim a little and you ducked down until your chin touched the water. “jake taught me for a little bit last week, but it didn’t really stick,” you said as you swam around a little and showed off what you learned from him. you felt jay’s eyes on you as you swam and it made you nervous about your swimming form.

“well i’m a much better teacher than jake.”

you didn’t know how to respond to that, and you didn’t get the chance since jay swam up to you. jay’s fingers trail over your arms, positioning them as he told you how to move them effectively. he then had you swim around his pool more to see what else you needed to work on.

jay’s eyebrows were raised and he looked like he was holding back a laugh. “i told you i was bad!” you exclaimed, sulking down into the water as you swam to him.

“not bad, just…” jay trailed off and you quirked an eyebrow teasingly at him, “just…” jay laughed, not able to finish his sentence and you pushed him.

“see!” you laughed.

“it’s okay, we can fix it.” jay then came closer to you, instructing you to hold out your arms. he came up behind you, his chest almost pressing against your back as his hands slid down your arms. he began to move them in a swimming motion.

“this is the motion you want your arms to do—straighten your fingers more, you don’t want a cupping motion,” jay spoke. his hands moved to your shoulders as you continued moving your arms, moving them backwards and forwards and then down to your waist to do the same.

you heart rate picked up from just how close he was to you, his hands all over you, and his voice next to your ear. your breath hitched lowly as his hands moved to your hips. of course you noticed just how handsome jay was—you noticed when you first surfaced from the water and he scared you—but seeing it all up close was something different. being this close to him made you feel nervous, and it felt a little wrong, too.

you knew that you and jake weren’t together, but being this close to someone else after being so close to him felt a little dirty. like you were cheating on him in some way even though you knew that wasn’t true. it also—deep down inside you—excited you, being this close to another guy.

jay moved around your body until he was to the side of you. his eyes moved from his hands that left your hips and up your body and the way that it moved until his eyes locked on yours. a satisfied smile crossed his features. “just like that, you got it,” jay praised. you inhaled sharply at the way his praise went straight down to the pit of your stomach.

you hoped that your body’s reaction to him came off as nervousness. following his guidance, you gave a small leap as you swam around in a circle in the shallow end of his pool. you did another lap before swimming back to jay. he clapped a couple times as you reached him, a proud smile on his face. “i told you i was a good teacher!”

he grabbed your bare waist as you stilled and your eyes widened a fraction more than they already were. “next time, though, make sure you use your hips more. it makes the whole movement more smooth.”

the feelings inside you made you feel extremely guilty. jay was simply just trying to teach you how to swim, yet your mind was on anything but that. even now, with his hands sliding down to your hips briefly as he finished speaking, he was so close to you that you were practically chest to chest.

dumbly, you looked at him and into his intense stare, breathing hard. you nodded at his previous sentence, though you weren’t actually sure what he said to you. jay smiled, voice softer, “you did so good! you’ll be a pro in no time!”

all you could do was nod again.

there was then silence between the two of you, and this time you were sure that jay could feel the tension. the two of you held each other’s stare, unbreaking. suddenly, jay’s gaze flicked down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. you inhaled deeply as the look in his eyes shifted.

your phone then went off, the sound of a received text message seemingly louder than it ever was before. you and jay jumped apart, the tension in the air turning awkward as jay shifted away from you slightly. “uh, i’ll go get us something to drink…” he trailed off.

“oh—um, yeah…” you muttered awkwardly.

you both got out of the pool and you used the towel hanging off the back of the lounge chair to dry off before checking the message you received.

jake: hey, where are you? are you off work yet? you: yeah! i’ve been hanging out with jay. why?

the guilt ate away at you even more. you knew it was ridiculous—you didn’t do anything wrong, the two of you just swam around together. but everything just felt weird and off now, like it was a secret you now had to hide from jake. his next message didn’t make you feel any better either.

jake: hanging out with jay?! why are you with him? you: he’s my friend? and i haven’t really seen him since i got here… you: is that a problem?

jake didn’t immediately answer and it made you speculate about the friendship he and jay once had. your phone didn’t ping with his text message until right as jay was coming through the sliding glass doors with two cups in his hands. “i got us some lemonade, i hope that’s okay!” jay said, handing you one of the cups.

jake: no, not a problem at all.

instead of swimming more, you and jay decided to chill outside of the pool and soak in some of the summer sun and talk. the more you talked, the more the awkward tension that was between the two of you slowly dissipated and talking to jay again was easy.

the weird feeling inside of you didn’t disappear, though. as you talked, your eyes couldn’t help but be attached to jay. the way the sun beamed off his drying skin and how he kept pushing the long, damp strands of his hair out of his face. the way his whole face lit up when you said something funny and a smile broke out into a laugh. it made your heart race.

suddenly, it finally clicked in your brain. you were attracted to him.

guilt poured into you even more and you started to shyly avoid his gaze. if jay noticed the sudden shift in you—which you hoped he didn’t—he didn’t mention it. you made sure you eyes were focused on anything but him as you talked.

you tried categorizing jay in your mind as strictly a friend, but even then it felt like he didn’t fit into the box. like he belonged somewhere between “friend” and “potential romantic interest” and that alarmed you even more. so you did the only thing you could think of at the moment to metaphorically shove him back into the “friend” box.

“you know, you’re like my bestfriend, right?” you laughed, making sure to make eye contact with him.

jay’s smile grew. “i’m your bestfriend?” he teased, leaned forward on the lounge chair towards you. “write it in stone. get the friendship bracelets out!” a small sigh of relief escaped you and you laughed, glad that he didn’t give you a weird look or anything.

jay stood from his chair, a hand at his chest, “i feel like i have to say a speech now or something.”

you immediately waved your hands in the air in front of you. “no!” you dragged the vowel out, “that is not necessary!” jay laughed harder.

you checked the time on you phone and sighed. “i should probably head home now… my mom’s probably wondering where i got off to after work…” you stood to your feet, smile faltering on your face.

“no issue! ill walk you,” jay said.

you gave him another shy smile. it was probably best that you didn’t spend more time with jay at this moment until you sorted yourself out. you didn’t know whether it was that your emotions were still everywhere from the move and you haven’t quite settled in yet, or what, but you had to get it together and fast. 

“oh—don’t worry about it!” you quickly said, “i have to stop down by the boardwalk and pick up something for my mom.” it was a lie, but jay was standing so close to you that it was all you had.

“okay!” jay replied. he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug, shaking you a bit. “we’ll hang out some more sometime later, bestfriend.”

you laughed, hugging him back and ignoring your racing heart. you looked to the sky at the way the sun passed through the leaves of the trees. it was a little past noon and you were ready to get out of your bathing suit.

jay walked you to his backyard gate and opened it for you, following you out. “see ya!” you waved at him. he repeated your words, waving goodbye.

just as you turned away from him, a rundown van that honestly looked on its last life pulled up to the walkway. behind you, jay scoffed and you looked at the oncomer curiously as you kept walking. you heard jay’s footsteps behind you walk towards the van.

as you turned towards the path to the boardwalk, you heard jay say, “heeseung, when are you gonna get rid of that beat up fucking van? shit is falling apart.” who you could only assume was heeseung replied, “don’t talk about betsy like that!”

you laughed to yourself as you continued on your way away from jay’s house. 

as you were walking, completely in your own world, you felt an arm wrap around your waist. you nearly jumped out of your skin as you turned and screeched. jake immediately held his hands up, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you!”

you let out the biggest sigh of relief before hitting him on the chest. “asshole! this is, like, the second time you’ve scared me nearly to death!”

jake laughed before wrapping his arms back around your waist, pulling you into him. he pressed a kiss to your cheek and smiled down at you. “i tried calling your name, but you weren’t listening! what’s on your mind?”

you shook your head slightly and shrugged a little. you were just glad to be in his arms again. “nothing,” you replied, “just a little spaced out, i guess.”

jake hummed and the two of you continued walking together. you noticed how jake had subtly guided you away from the path to the boardwalk and onto one you remembered from when you first landed here—his house.

this was your chance. with jay only giving you a vague answer about their history, maybe jake would give you more insight. you looked at him, “hey, jake?”

jake hummed again, brows slightly drawn together as he smiled at you. it was time to bite the bullet. “you and jay use to be bestfriends, right? what happened between the two of you?” you asked. jake’s smile fell and he looked down to the ground before looking forward. there was almost what seemed to be a flash of anger that crossed his features at the mention of jay’s name.

“uh…” jake trailed, tucking a stray strand of his hair that wasn’t already tied up behind his ear. “i was a really shitty person back then. i hurt a lot of people—did a lot of things that i now regret.”

that was basically a regurgitated version of what jay had already told you, it wasn’t enough. you needed to know more. “yeah, i know that already. but what did you do to him that you guys aren’t friends anymore?” you said, trying to make yourself more clear.

“why do you want to know so bad?” jake asked, slight annoyance in his tone as he looked back to you.  “did jay say something to you?” his arm around your waist tightened.

jake had never gotten annoyed at you, so you felt the need to defend yourself. “no, but i saw that picture on your wall with you, him, and sunghoon. ‘swimming buds for life!’” you sarcastically mocked as you did air quotes. “and you freaked out when you heard that i was hanging out with him. should jay have said something?”

the annoyance in jake’s features only grew and he rolled his eyes at the mention of jay’s name. you didn’t understand why he was acting this way over a simple question. you told him you wanted no drama, and you thought he understood that. so why won’t he tell you what happened between him and jay? you thought that he would start being more transparent with you after last summer.

you didn’t realize that you were already at his house until he pushed the door open and took your hand in his to drag you up the stairs to his bedroom. “it’s not important,” jake said, pushing his bedroom door open. you followed him through, shutting the door behind you to muffle the noise. “but it is!” you insisted, voice raising as you stopped in your tracks.

jake turned around so he faced you, running his hands through the hair that escaped his ponytail that he sported before running them down his face in frustration. “he’s my friend and you’re—” you cut yourself off, sighing deeply and sitting on the edge of his bed. “why can’t you just give me a straight answer? what is it? what is it about me and him being friendly that has you acting like this?”

you looked at the way jake started to pace in front of you with a worried expression. was what happened between the two of them so bad that it couldn’t even be uttered? surely not, right?

“i—i just can’t fucking stand him! and i can't stand you with him,” jake began to ramble, face twisted into an expression you couldn’t quite read. “you not with me. i can’t stand how he spun all of this to seem like he is the innocent one in all of this—like he wasn’t part of the game too! like he wasn’t a shitty person too!”

jake continued, voice raising, but never reaching a yell, “and i can't stand—couldn’t possibly fathom losing you again because of him.” jake came to stand before you, desperately looking at you.

you shook your head in confusion. “what are you talking about—losing me? how would you lose me?”

jake slumped down next to you, leaning over to run his hands through his hair that had completely fallen out of his ponytail now. you glanced around his room, noting the pictures of the two of you hanging up on his walls that weren’t there before. he had replaced some of the previous pictures with one of the two of you. just then, a lightbulb illuminated in your head. “jake… are you… jealous?” you asked him quietly, brows drawn together.

“yes!” he exasperatedly shouted, falling back onto his bed and rubbing his eyes.

you turned, “you have nothing to be jealous about? jay and i are just friends!”

jake shook his head, eyes still covered. “you’re gonna find out how absolutely shitty i was in the past and how he’s so perfect and want nothing to do with me.” jake uncovered his eyes and looked at you sullenly. “i don’t know what i would do with myself if you wanted nothing to do with me.”

you laid down next to him so you were face to face and grabbed his hand. absentmindedly, jake rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand. you looked at jake and his kicked puppy expression, “you don’t have anything to worry about, jake. nothing.”

you looked at him firmly to make sure your words were really sinking in. you may have found jay attractive, but jake is the one who kept you up at night. who you can’t stop thinking about no matter how hard you try—who you spent a whole year thinking about. the one who you graciously let hold your heart.

“there’s no competition between you and jay,” you added in a low voice.

jake seemed to relax and the line between his brows smoothened. “a girl,” jake suddenly said. you gave him a confused look.

“he was in love with this girl, but she liked me instead of him. when he found out things didn’t go over so well… split the whole swim team in half with people choosing sides. it was a loss for both of us.” jake looked down at your intertwined hands, voice quiet.

“well i’m not her,” you stated. “you won’t lose me.” 

jake looked up at you and you scooted closer to him, lips mere centimeters apart. “you won’t,” you repeated, pressing your lips to his. jake’s hand raised to cup your cheek as his lips fell in sync with yours. the two of you stayed like that for a moment, the kiss growing more passionate and desperate as time went on.

you straddled him, lips still attached to his, and instantly jake’s hands came to your hips. pulling away, you breathed, “let me make you feel good this time.”

furrowing his brows, jake looked up at you with confusion. “you always make me feel good,” you started, crawling backwards until your hands reached the band of his loose shorts. “let me return the favor.”

you crawled all the way off of his bed and sat on your knees between his legs, your hands resting neatly in your lap. jake sat up, eyes widening slightly as he stared hard down at you. you looked up at him with big, hesitant doe eyes.

“you cannot look up at me like that, pretty.” a shy smile grew at his words and at the way you saw the tent in his shorts grow.

“will you teach me how?” you asked him. you’ve never given anyone a blowjob in your life, you barely even gave a handjob. nerves flooded you at the fact that you would possibly do something wrong and that would be the end of it. or that you didn’t do it well enough and it was just disappointing.

you ran your hands up jake’s thighs and played with the drawstring of his shorts. jake screwed his eyes shut and nodded a little, inhaling sharply before opening his eyes again. “are you sure?” he asked you, worry tinging his features. “you don’t have to—and i don’t want to hurt you.”

“i want to,” you stated firmly, fingers hooking onto the band of his shorts now. you tugged lightly at it.

“alright,” jake breathed out. “don’t do anything you aren’t ready for.”

you nodded impatiently, eagerly pulling down his shorts and boxers in response. jake lifted his hips so they slid off all of the way, his heavy cock springing free from its restraints. you took his cock in your hands and jake lightly put a hand on the back of your head to signal you to stop.

“go slow, and don’t try to take more than you can handle to try and please me,” he said seriously. “i don’t want you hurting yourself.”

nodding again, you nervously looked at his cock in your hands. you weren’t sure what to do first. wrap your mouth around him or stroke him first? your grip was feather-light and you looked back up at jake so he could tell you what to do.

he caressed the back of your head comfortingly, “you don’t have to be nervous, baby, it’s just me.” jake gave you a reassuring smile and you gave him a small nervous one back. “you don’t have to hold it so lightly either, don’t be afraid to grab it.”

inhaling deeply, you tightened your grip until it was firm, but not too tight that you thought might hurt. jake moaned lightly, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. “i-is that good?” you asked worriedly.

jake nodded, inhaling hard. “yes, yes, just like that.” drips of precum slid down the flushed tip of his cock. “now, just move your hands up and down while twisting back and forth a little.”

you did exactly as he said, moving you hands up and down his length while maintaining the grip you already had. your eyes were trained on jake’s face and the way soft moans left his parted lips and his head tilted back more and more.

“good, baby,” jake breathed out heavily. you felt the way his cock practically throbbed in your hands. “when you get to the top, grab harder.”

“harder?” you asked, slightly more worried. your grip was already firm and he wants you to tighten it? jake nodded more, brows knitted together as his eyes squeezed shut, “mhm.” his moans were louder now and his hand that was at your head moved to press down into his mattress with his other hand.

you kept stroking him, his precum making the motion a bit easier. when you got to the flushed tip of his cock, you squeezed down harder. a loud moan left jake’s mouth as his hips bucked up into your hands. “ah fuck,” he groaned under his breath.

you smiled. it was nice to see him twisted in pleasure instead of the other way around. it was especially nice to know that you were the cause of it. that you were making him feel this good. you wondered if this is how he felt when he made you feel this good. it made your skin heat up and arousal pool at your core the more you thought about it and the more he moaned and whimpered for you.

jake tried hard to keep his hips still, but it was as if he physically couldn’t control himself. “can i try my mouth now?” you asked timidly. breathing hard, jake nodded. he looked down at you with hooded, clouded eyes of lust.

you sat up on your knees a bit and leaned forward. you looked down at his reddened mushroom tip and started with some apprehensive kitten licks. above you, jake inhaled sharply. you looked up at him nervously and you saw something shift in his features. his pupils blew wide with lust and his fingers gripped his comforter to keep his hands at his sides.

“slow,” he intrustructed. it came out almost strangled.

hesitantly, you wrapped your mouth around the tip of his cock as if it were a lollipop, sucking your cheeks in a bit. another loud moan was ripped deep from within jake and he threw his head back completely. you pulled your mouth off of him, eyes widening, before preparing yourself to take more of his cock inside your mouth.

you wrapped your mouth around him again, going farther down his thick length before you suddenly gagged. jake’s eyes flew down at you and his hand grabbed the hair at the back of your head to pull you off of him. “are you okay, baby?” he asked, frantic.

you nodded, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you looked up at him with watery eyes. his cock in you free hand twitched. you swallowed thickly, “sorry…”

he moved his hand at the back of your head to caress your cheek. “it’s okay, just take it easy. okay?” jake said softly. “okay,” you replied.

inhaling, you took him into your mouth again, this time taking jake’s advice and going slow. you went down inch by inch, stopping before you got the feeling of having to gag again. you wrapped your hands around the rest of his length that you couldn’t fit inside your mouth and applied the same pressure as before. 

slowly, you bobbed your head up and down, sucking inwards so your cheeks hollowed. “breathe—” jake spoke before getting cut off by his own moans and whimpers. “…through your nose.”

it must’ve been really difficult for jake, trying to control himself while talking you through what to do at the same time. even now, the more you sucked him off, the more you felt him struggling to still himself so he didn’t potentially hurt you. a part of you wanted him to just let go.

you didn’t even notice the fire in your lungs until he mentioned breathing. so you inhaled through your nose, the tension in your body immediately being relieved even though it took you a few tries to actually breath through your nose and suck at the same time. at the base of his cock, you moved your hands in the same up and down and twisting motion.

jake was practically panting now, knuckles white with the way he gripped his comforter. his moans and whimpers increased and his hips bucked up into your mouth lightly, signaling that he was real close to cumming. “shit,” jake cursed, half of it coming out in a whine.

his hand was at the back of your head again, using your hair to pull your mouth off of him. you kept moving your hands, this time bringing them up further—and squeezing at his tip—to accommodate the lack of your mouth.

you barely got to lean away before his cum was shooting out of him and all over your face and hands. drips of it landed on his thighs and jake fell back on his hands, a loud moan ripping through him as his head flew back. you kept stroking him, the remaining cum dripping down your hands, as you helped him through his high. jake’s hips lazily thrusted up into your hands as he tried to catch his breathing.

once jake was finished, his cock softening in your hands, he sat up to look at you. you looked at him with hesitant doe eyes again and his eyes widened to saucers as he took in the scene in front of him. “was it good?” you asked shyly, worry hanging on the edge of your words. you swear you felt his cock harden.

“perfect. it was perfect, pretty,” jake responded, gently grabbing your chin. you licked your lips and was surprised at the slight salty taste of his cum. jake smiled and chucked a bit, “if you could see yourself from my point of view right now…”

you smiled cheekily at him. “so take a picture and show me.”

that got him hard again.

jake raised an eyebrow at you, his smile turning into a smirk. he leaned down to his shorts pocket and fished out his phone, then he aimed the camera at you and you heard the click of a picture.

he still had his phone aimed at you. you giggled, “do you want me to pose?” jake laughed and you joined him. “if you want,” he smiled.

you lifted his heavy, half hard cock in your hands and placed your tongue at the side of his tip while you stared into the camera. “careful…” jake warned teasingly. “i don’t think i could control myself again.” you smiled before wrapping your lips around him, giggling.

a moan slipped past jake’s lips and you laughed, pulling away. he tossed his phone behind him and raised his brows at you. jake grabbed your arms and pulled you to your feet. “okay, little miss eager… let’s get you cleaned up. i don’t think you want to go walking around with my cum all over your face.”

being back at you and jake’s spot evoked emotions inside you that you weren’t quite ready for. being at your spot and laying under the stars with him caused a whole bigger tidal wave. it made you think of every moment that the two of you had here—good and bad. jake was right, this really is the best place to see the stars.

the last time the two of you watched the stars together, you were tucked into jake’s side, almost cheek to cheek. now the two of you were seperate—the only connection being the brushing together of your arms. you didn’t like how far away he felt, but you weren’t quite sure how to bridge the gap further.

you felt jake’s heavy stare on the side of your face and you looked over at him instead of the stars. you had spent the rest of the day together, roaming around the small town with your phones on record capturing every moment until the two of you ended up here. it felt like the day when you had stumbled into your shared spot and you and jake’s relationship changed forever. you quirked an eyebrow at him as the two of you stared at each other for a moment. you could tell that something was weighing on his mind.

jake exhaled, “i know you wanna take things slow, so i won’t ask you…” his eyes flickered to the stars before focusing on you again. you really appreciated how he was being open with his feelings with you, especially since he told you how difficult it was for him. “but, just know you’re the only one for me. no games, no lies, nothing. i want only you. you’re the only one i’ll ever want.”

you shifted so you were fully facing him, shocked at where this was coming from all of a sudden. you thought you curbed his earlier jealousy—maybe it was something else? “is this because of what hana said a few weeks ago? cause i don’t believe a single word out of her mouth. i know how you feel about me, i know that you aren’t a player anymore.”

“yes and no…” jake trailed. “i just want to make sure that you know. whenever you want to take things to the next level, i’ll be there. i don’t want you to think this is only about the sex for me, ‘cause it isn’t.”

jake then suddenly panicked, waving his hand in between the two of you. “though the sex is great—amazing, even, and i really, really enjoy it! so don’t think—”

you cut him off with a soft laugh, he is so cute when he is flustered. “i know, jake, i know.”

you sat up from the blanket you both are laying on. “turn around!” you tell jake. he smiled and turned towards the blanket while covering his eyes. “don’t look!”

taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself. you thought now was as good as a time to take things to the next level. in the sand you nervously wrote out ‘boyfriend? yes or no’ with check boxes next to ‘yes’ and ‘no.’ 

you knew you prioritized taking things slow—which you definitely didn’t do—and having jake’s actions speak louder than his words, but you knew what you wanted. you knew the moment you landed here and ran as fast as you could to him. jake is the one that you want—the one that you’ll always want, and his actions have already proven to you that he feels the exact way.

moving to the side a bit, you told him to open his eyes. you took your lip between your teeth as you watched him read your words in the sand. you let out a small sigh of relief when his whole face lit up and he checked the ‘yes’ box immediately. giggling, you climbed into his lap and smashed your lips onto his.

“oh! we should take a picture!” jake perked up. he pulled his phone from his pocket and aimed it towards the words in the sand. “physical memories and all, right? well, not physical, but you know what i mean.” you laughed as he snapped the picture and one of the two of you for good measure.

as jake walks you home, the air between the two of you buzzes—almost glows with the help of the streetlights. your hand is intertwined in his and the world feels like it’s back in order. it’s electrifying—the way you turn and stare up at him just before you step onto your porch. you open your mouth to speak, but jake already knows what the words will be.

just then, the porch light turns on and you quickly look back at it before looking back at him. with a sheepish smile you tell him goodnight. jake’s heart can’t help but swell as he smiles back and kisses you on your cheek. “goodnight, baby,” he murmurs.

jake watches you walk to your porch and disappear into your house—not letting go of his hand until the distance physically breaks the two of you apart. he begins to walk home, thoughts of you flooding his mind. jake is so fond of you that it almost hurts. he’s so in love with you that it actually does.

he’s looking through the pictures and videos you both took today, a giddy smile on his face as he starts to send them to you like you asked earlier. then a thought crosses his mind. is it his jealousy and slight possessiveness creeping in? maybe. but his fingers are already moving before he can stop them.

jake just hopes that jay still has the same number.

attaching the imagine of you asking him to be your boyfriend and the selfie of the two of you, jake presses send. he waits a second before typing the message, “oops, meant to send this to my girlfriend. my bad!”

jay: read, 10:57 P.M.

jake smirks as he slides his phone back in his pocket. he knew that he was rubbing it in jay’s face, but he honestly couldn’t care less. how dare he try to come between the two of you? jake wouldn’t be surprised if he only started talking to you so he could get one up on him. pitiful, really.

it didn’t matter anymore, because now you were jake’s girlfriend—and you were all that mattered to him.

“you just can’t help yourself, huh?” a voice said behind you.

you were in the middle of wrapping up your shift—cleaning the counter and tidying up for the next person’s shift. turning, confusion written all over your face, you were then face to face with hana. anger coiled her features into a scowl and she looked almost… paranoid? mascara clumped below her lashes and she honestly looked a mess. your brows knitted together at her words. what was she on about now?

“jake is mine,” she said with fevered passion. you just rolled your eyes and continued tidying up, opting to ignore her. that didn’t stop hana. she slammed her hands down on the counter, leaning forward. you raised an eyebrow at her. “first jake, now jay—you just can’t help going after my sloppy seconds, can’t you?” hana continued, almost shouting. she was borderline hysterical and you genuinely started to get worried.

“what? what are you talking about, hana?” you asked, turning fully to her.

your response only seemed to piss hana off even more than she was. red-hot anger boiled behind her eyes and she was attracting the attention of people passing by, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “don’t ‘what’ me. you know exactly what i’m fucking talking about! what do they even see in you?”

you honestly had no words. hana stormed off, giving you one last glare. you stood in place frozen, rag hanging limply from your fingers.

the vibration of your phone knocked you back to your senses and you quickly finished tidying up. you clocked out and on the way home you opened your phone to see what the vibration was.

jake: lunch at your house with your mom today is still on right? you: yup! jake: see you there, pretty.

you pushed open your front door, gaining your mom’s attention. she must’ve walked through the door minutes prior since she was surrounded by grocery bags. you helped her bring them into the kitchen and unload them.

“so… you and that jake boy, huh?” your mother asked you innocently, putting stuff away into the fridge. you were next to her putting stuff into cabinets. “yeah,” you said sheepishly, “we’re back together now.”

she hummed, quiet for a moment. “i know last year the two of you had problems that hindered you from wanting to come back here—problems that i see have been resolved now. i can tell that he does really care about you, honey, so don’t be afraid to jump feet first.” she looked at you from where she stood in front of the fridge, a spacey look in her eyes. you can tell she was thinking about your father.

“thanks, mom,” you smiled at her. she snapped out of her haze, smiling back at you.

“and then—” you were cut off by a moan pushing itself out of your mouth, your back arching slightly off your bed. “and then she was just shouting like a maniac! the whole time i’m trying to figure out what she’s on about while everyone around us is staring.”

another soft moan left your parted lips and your fingers grabbed tightly onto your blankets. your brows drew together as your mind started to get hazy. you were just about to lose tract of what you were saying before the image of hana’s hysterical and angry face popped into your mind. “are you even listening to me?” you asked, flicking the blanket off of you.

jake looked up at you, lips attached to your core and fingers buried deep inside you. he hummed in question and it sent shockwaves throughout you—making your hips buck up into his mouth and your eyes flutter shut briefly. you pouted and jake pulled away from you, pulling his fingers out of you—the wetness coating them—and resting his hand on your inner thigh so your legs stayed apart.

“baby, i do not care about hana,” jake said. you scoffed and looked up at your ceiling, old glow in the dark stars sticking to it. jake chuckled and crawled up your body so you were face to face. “who cares what she said! she’s delusional and crazy—ignore her.”

you sighed and jake laughed more. “now, do you want me to continue or do you wanna rant more?” he asked you. you pouted more at him and he kissed your lips.

there was a knock at your door and you and jake panicked and he ended up falling off your bed and to the ground next to it with a loud thud. “one second!” you called as you pulled your panties back from the side and adjusted your skirt so it wasn’t halfway up your stomach.

turning to jake, you put a finger to your lips, motioning for him to stay silent. you went to your door and opened it up just enough to show your body. “what was that?” your mom asked you.

you furrowed your brows, pretending like it wasn’t jake falling on his ass, before acting like you realized what she was talking about. “oh, that thud? it was my suitcase—i still haven’t fully unpacked yet…” 

your mom tsked at you and handed you a dress. “found one of my old dresses while cleaning out grandma’s closet, i thought you might want it to wear to summer splash.” your eyes widened at you took it from her, a thankful smile forming on your face.

“it’s beautiful, mom,” you spoke as you examined it. she smiled before leaving you to unpack.

you laid the dress on the chair next to your closet before turning to jake. you held out a hand as you waited for your mom’s footsteps to retreat completely before rushing to him and helping him to his feet. the two of you smiled sheepishly at each other.

“i think i should go,” jake said in a low voice. he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your neck. the tips of his ponytail tickled your cheek. jake pressed a kiss to your neck, making you shiver, before looking back at you. “we can finish this later.”

heat rushed to your face and you nodded, fighting the urge to cover your face from him. jake’s smile turned to a half-smirk. he started to walk towards your door but you pulled him back towards you by his hand, a wild look on your face. “you can’t just go out the front door!” you whisper-yelled.

jake’s brows furrowed. “why not?” he whispered back.

you gave him an incredulous look. “jake, i snuck you in here,” you said before pointing to your window. “you were supposed to leave after lunch… you’re gonna have to use the window.” jake looked at the window and then at you, unmoving.

pulling him to the window, you opened it and the warm summer nighttime air hit you. you turned to jake and motioned to the window. jake raised his brows. he then intertwined your hands and rested his forehead against yours for a moment before kissing you gently.

“i’m going to be coming through your window all of the time now, i hope you realize that,” jake said lowly. you laughed softly at him, “i’ll leave it unlocked for you then.”

jake leaned on your open window, looking down at the grass below before turning to you. “you’re still my date to the summer splash event, right?” you rolled your eyes playfully at him, “duh! of course i am!”

jake smiled and kissed your cheek before stepping over the ledge of the window. he started climbing down before he unceremoniously fell on his ass again. you gasped and shouted in a low, worried voice, “are you okay?!”

jake gave you a pained smile and a thumbs up before getting up and shaking himself off. you watched as the living room light turned on. you and jake froze for a second, his eyes darting up to yours, before he took off—waving at you as he ran down the street.

you held in the urge to laugh as you quietly shut your window again, making sure to leave it unlocked. you were sure you were gonna hear about the “strange noises” tomorrow. you pulled your phone out and texted jake.

you: very smooth. jake: i know, i’m such a pro!

jake attached a blurry picture of him smiling while running that finally got you to laugh.

[ CHANGEOVER — THE SUMMER SUN SETS EARLY ] 𓇼 and a cold wind sweeps up the sea.

jake laughed—the vibrations traveling throughout your body as you laid on his chest—and scrolled to another video on his phone for the two of you to watch together. he had come through your window like he promised and the two of you had spent the night in the same bed. now the both of you were in the bare bones of your pajamas—you in a thin tank top and panties and him just in his boxers—the morning of the summer splash charity event.

after a couple more videos, jake shut his phone off and looked down at you on top of him. “as much as i enjoy you sitting on my cock, we should both probably get ready… today is gonna be a long day.”

you snuggled deeper into his bare chest. the simple feeling of being stuff so full already had your mind cloudy. “but i’m so comfortable!” you mumbled, glancing up at him. jake smirked.

jake’s hands trailed down to your waist, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “hm, you’re so comfortable… how comfortable?” he asked, voice low. you sat up fully, a flirty smile crossing your features. you rested your hands on his chest.

“very comfortable.”

“let’s see, then.” jake’s smirk grew as his hands trailed down to your hips, head tilting to the side. his hands squeezed your hip slightly and you were practically already dripping.

you started rolling your hips, using your hands on his chest as leverage. both of your breathing started to get heavier. “like this?” you asked innocently, lifting your hips a little and dropping them again as you rolled them. jake’s eyes rolled back and his head fell back on your headboard.

“yes… exactly like that,” he breathed, voice almost hoarse.

the more you moved, the louder your moans grew and the cloudier your head got. at some point jake had to hold his hand over your mouth to muffle them. “shh, pretty,” he shushed in a husky voice. “i’m sure you don’t want someone to come in here and see us.”

you shook your head as you kept riding him. “f-feels so good, i can’t stop myself.” jake’s response was to kiss you instead, muffling your shared moans with each other’s mouths. he bit down softly on your lower lip and smirked at the way you moaned against his mouth.

the fabric between the two was seemingly too much for jake. before you could even chase his lips, your tank top was off and his lips were on your skin and his hands were exploring the new access to your body. you bit down hard on your bottom lip as his plump lips left love bites all over your skin.

a loud whimper left your mouth when jake adjusted your position so that he could easily fuck up into you. you buried your face in his neck to silence yourself, hoping that the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin didn’t alert any of your family members.

“f-fuck—” jake swore, voice stuttering as he suddenly stilled inside you. warm cum spilled into you and filled you even more. you looked up from jake’s neck through hooded eyes and watched the way his eyes fluttered closed.

jake exhaled heavily, his forehead resting against yours as his cum dripped out of you and down his hard cock. his lips sloppily connected with yours as his hips started fucking up into you again.

your brows harshly drew together as your moan was muffled by jake’s mouth. your nails dug into his shoulders and your body started to shake as each wave of pleasure hit you one by one like a tsunami.

“feels good, baby?” jake whispered near your ear, voice husky. you could barely answer him because if you did you would end up shrieking. all you could do was nod weakly as high-pitched whimpers and whines escaped past your lips.

jake swore again when you tightly clenched down onto him, body shaking like a leaf and nails so deep in his shoulders that you weren’t surprised if you drew blood. suddenly the floodgates opened and you were cumming harder than you ever did before as your body fully collapsed on top of jake.

stars swirled in your eyes as jake helped you through your orgasm, kissing your cheek and shoulder comfortingly as he rubbed circles onto your back. both of you were covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing heavily, the point where the two of you connected sticky with your mixed cum.

once your head wasn’t on cloud nine anymore, you shakily sat up. you gave jake a hazy smile and giggled. jake pulled you closer to him, chuckling, before he kissed you softly. “we might be in trouble,” he said in a low voice, accent heavy. you giggled again, ignoring the way your pussy throbbed from his voice alone.

you pulled away from him, almost fully naked body on full display for him. you both were definitely gonna have to throw away your respective panties and boxers after this. jake looked down at the mess you both created before caressing your waist with his thumb. there was that fondness in his eyes again. “you’re so pretty like this…” he trailed and you hid your face with your hands, heat rushing to your face as you shyly smiled.

jake pulled away your hands. “my pretty girl,” he said affectionately. you lifted your hips and pulled yourself off of his cock, more cum spilling out of you. you leaned back down to kiss him. “we should get ready now,” he said, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips.

you hummed before throwing his famous smirk at him. jake quirked an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth raising. “getting ready can wait another thirty minutes,” you murmured before trailing kisses down his body. jake’s breath hitched and his eyes fluttered shut when your kissed stopped right where the band of his boxers were.

your smirk grew. it was nice to know that you had the same effect on him that he had on you. that you could get him all worked up so easily like he sat in the palm of your hand. it made you feel on top of the world. “we aren’t done yet,” you said, grabbing his cum-covered cock into your hand as you began to stroke slowly.

a whimper left jake’s parted lips as his eyes cracked open. the corners of his mouth were still raised, “i’m gonna make you eat your words.”

it’s safe to say that you and jake were a little late showing up to the summer splash charity event. all around the beach and boardwalk were people participating in various contests and competitions to raise money for the sheltered animals in town. you were in one of your mom’s old dresses—it was so beautiful and formal that you felt a little awkward and restricted despite its flowiness—and jake had on a nice suit that matched your dress. the two of you looked stunning, if you did say so yourself.

at some point jake got pulled away from you by his friends to participate in a competition and you wandered the boardwalk looking at all the competing people. you could see why this was held every year, everyone was buzzing with energy and there were smiles all around.

“hey… y/n?” you turned to see jay coming up to you. you smiled at him.

“oh! hey, jay!” you said, turning to face him. he had a serious expression on his face and your eyes knitted together in worry. “what’s wrong?” you asked him. jay inhaled deeply and a flood of words poured from his mouth.

“listen, i know you may think jake is the one, but he isn’t the saint you think he is.” jay gave you a firm stare. you looked away, sighing to yourself. “jay…” you trailed.

jay cut you off. “i have to say this before it’s too late. i like you, y/n. i really like you. and i’d never put you through all the things he has—lead you on or fill your head with lies and half-truths. if you’d give me the chance, i could show you that we’re a better match.” you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off again. “think about it…”

jay then left you standing dumbfounded and completely confused on the boardwalk.

later that night, there was a venue the coordinators booked where people could dance and mingle with each other over drinks. you and jake were on the dance floor, way past tipsy, but not quite as drunk yet. a slow song started to play and the two of you swayed side to side before jake spun you.

you smiled adoringly up at him and he mirrored your expression. you leaned closer to him and leaned your head against his chest as the two of you continued to sway. “you do know how much i like you,” you said to him, loud enough for it to be heard over the music but low enough that only his ears could hear and a bit slurred. you felt jake chuckle as his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“i do,” he replied. “you do know how much i like you, right?” you laughed and pulled away slightly to look up at him. you pressed your lips against his softly.

there was something else hanging in the air between you that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. maybe your head was too misty from the alcohol, but it felt like it was on the tip of both of your tongues. you didn’t linger on it, mind distracted by the sudden need to use the restroom.

pulling away from jake, you told him this and made your way to the restrooms. jake watched you leave, a small smile on his face. his face dropped when he saw a sneering hana follow after you. in a quick second decision he decided to go after the both of you.

when jake caught up to the two of you, it felt like he was walking directly into a car crash. “the year you were gone he was with me!” he heard hana say as she shoved her phone in your face, swiping through various pictures. confusion spread through him. what was she talking about now?

your brows were knitted together as you took the phone from her, looking through all the pictures of her and jake. even with your clouded mind, you didn’t believe hana at first, but ask you kept scrolling you weren’t quite sure anymore. jake’s hair was almost the same length as it was now and when you checked the dates it said it was from a year ago.

“mhm!” hana said, and it felt like she dug her claws into your heart and ripped it out. “as soon as you got on that plane he came to me!” your heart dropped and you turned to jake, hurt written all over your face. you felt absolutely crushed.

“is this true?” you asked him, voice trembling.

after everything he said to you—he went back to her? when he said that nothing happened between them and nothing will ever again… was that all just a lie? did he take you as a fool again? you couldn’t believe this.

“i love you, you know id never go back to her when this whole time i’ve been waiting for you.” jake stepped towards you, still confused about what was happened. all he knew was that he didn’t want to see that hurt look on your face—he couldn’t take it. you quickly took a step back from him and he practically shriveled up and died.

in the background the coordinators were announcing how much money was raised tonight, but you could barely hear them with your heart beating in your ears. “but you went back to her,” you spoke, voice raising.

jake gave you an incredulous look. “you’re telling me you believe what’s coming out of her mouth right now? seriously? whatever she showed you—they’re fake. she probably edited them.”

tears welled up in your eyes, your emotions everywhere from that stupid alcohol you decided to drink. “i don’t know what to believe anymore! it’s always fucking something with you and i’m tired of it!” you exclaimed. you wanted to wrap your arms around yourself and disappear.

jake pleaded with you, “listen to me. listen to what i’m telling you! it’s not true.” he took another step towards you and this time you let him.

seemingly out of thin air, jay appeared next to the three of you, turning his attention to jake. “why don’t you tell her about what happened between the three of us, jake.” he motioned with a finger between him, jake, and hana. your brows drew deeper together as you looked between him. what is jay talking about?

“yeah, jake!” hana chimed it, a sickly sweet smile curling up the corners of her lips. “tell her.”

you looked back at jake and the bewildered look on his face as jay and hana pounced on him. jay then looked at you, “well, if you won’t tell y/n then i will.”

jay stepped closer to you and jake and wrapped an arm around jake’s shoulders. “you wanna know the real reason why jake and i aren’t bestfriends anymore?” jake pushed jay off of him but jay just shook his head, lips twitched up slightly into what looked like a sneer.

“believe it or not, we use to be close—me, jake, sunghoon, the whole damn highschool swim team. until jakey here—” jay poked a finger into jake’s chest “—decided to let it all crash and burn.” jay then turned to you. “now, i’m not the most innocent either. jake and sunghoon’s game they like to play—the whole player lifestyle—i use to be part of it all. we were all shitty, together.”

jay continued. “we would see who could get attached to us the fastest, and once they’d become too clingy… dropped. you see, we weren’t looking for anything serious, just some fun! we had just graduated and weren’t looking to settle down anytime soon. that is… until i was.” he then turned to hana, motioning a weak hand at her. “now i should've known better to fall for someone who was clearly still so obsessed with jake, but i thought it was young love. pathetic.”

hana rolled her eyes at jay before tilting her head at you, “you aren’t as special as you think. before he took your virginity, he took mine. i was you, don’t you see?”

jay snorted, “before he dropped you and barely remembered your name or who you were at all.” hana scoffed at him but jay ignored her. “hana and i started going steady and jake and sunghoon didn’t like that. it was always ‘oh, the two of you aren’t serious! you’ll just drop her like the rest!’ but months past and me not playing the game anymore only angered them more.”

jake finally seemed to snap out of his fog. “you’re such a fucking liar. we weren’t—”

“so they decided to get back at me, a harmless prank,” jay cut him off. “and clearly hana was using me to get back to jake, unbeknownst to me. they all thought it would be so funny if i found jake and hana together, to show me that she ‘wasn’t really worth it.’ and i did find them—only i didn’t find it funny, but to them the plan went off without a hitch so it was a success.”

jay turned from all of you. you could feel the anger radiating off of him as he retold the story and lived through all of the memories. shock grew on your face and you looked at jake with wide eyes.

“cue the big, disastrous fight that split the former swim team in half. lifelong friendships were broken, people were betrayed, and people chose sides. you get the gist.” jay turned back to you all, waving a hand in the air, face steeled.

he looked at you again. “you wanna know the kicker? despite not giving a single fuck about hana—not one—he then dated her after for four months. just to really stick it to me.”

your mind flashed to jake’s letter. about three years ago he said him and hana dated for four months but they “didn’t click,” so he broke up with her. he said that ever since she’s been making his life hell with her obsession with him and her trying to get back together. you felt like you were going to throw up. you hated hana, that much was obvious, but you couldn’t really dismiss the fact that jake took her virginity and then dropped her. it wasn’t an excuse, but it’s no wonder she’s so obsessed with him.

like she said, she was you. he probably made her feel like the only girl in the world for that one night.

“you’re just jealous of what jake and i had,” hana said, crossing her arms over her chest. jay’s gaze darted to her’s and wryly laughed. “sure, hana. you keep telling yourself whatever you need to help you sleep at night. jake never liked you the way you think he did. the only reason he dated you so long was because sunghoon dared him to see how long he could go before going crazy.”

hana blinked a couple times. clearly that information was new to her, too.

“i’m never one to forgive and forget, so now you can see why our friendship has long been dead and buried,” jay concluded. “i told you he’s not the saint you think he is.” jay sounded sorry for you and jake just stared at you with wide, fearful eyes. it was all too much for you to process.

“i need some space. i can’t… it’s over.” cheering exploded around you from everyone else at the party and you stumbled away, pushing through the door until you were hit in the face with fresh air. tears fell from your eyes and distantly you heard voices behind you calling your name.

you felt like no matter how hard you tried, oxygen wouldn’t reach your lungs. you pressed your hand to your stomach, trying to will yourself to breathe. you heard people arguing next to you and you closed your eyes to try and steady yourself as you inhaled sharply, air finally reaching your lungs. you turned to the voices as your ears suddenly heard them clearly.

“you just want everything i have, don’t you? can’t help yourself, huh?” jake shouted at jay.

jay got in his face and shouted back. “like you can’t help but throw the people you ‘care’ about to the side?” jay turned his focus to you. “tell me, y/n, who did he put over you this time? what lie has he told you to keep you crawling back to him?”

jake pushed jay hard. “don’t fucking talk to my girlfriend like that!”

“newsflash, you fucking idiot, she isn’t your fucking girlfriend anymore! you can’t help but ruin everything you touch!” jay yelled at jake. you felt your throat tightening again and you took a step back from them.

tears poured down your cheeks and a loud sob left your parted lips. they froze as their gaze snapped to your broken form. you turn and took off in a random direction that you hoped was towards your house.

you ran until you physically felt like you were gonna burst and gulped in a large breath of air. you heard jake calling after you as you swayed on your feet, vision blurring even more. jake put a hand on your shoulder, “baby…”

you spun in place, shrugging his hand off of you. “explain. explain right fucking now, or i swear we’re done for good. what else have you been keeping from me?” you asked through tears.

in the moonlight you could see the sparkle of tears welling up in jake’s eyes. “i swear there’s nothing else! i-i just didn’t want you to look at me like a monster when i’ve done everything in my power to not be that person anymore,” jake promised. you scoffed and looked away from him.

“i’m not gonna let you slip through my fingers again,” jake said. he sounded desperate but his words fell on deaf ears. “i already am,” you coldly replied.

jake grabbed your hand in his, intertwining them. suddenly you felt his hands all over you—his lips all over you and leaving the marks that were still on your skin, covered. “y/n… please just think this through. i haven’t seen hana at all until that day on the beach with you. i was a horrible person back then, but can’t you see that i’ve changed?”

you pulled your hand away. “i need time to know if i can trust you. we need to spend some time apart,” you replied, completely detached. the tears stopped falling from your eyes but your cheeks were still wet. all you felt was numb. you gave jake one last look before turning and walking away.

you haven’t been processing the past week and a half well—if at all. instead, you’ve been drinking a lot more than you care to admit. there practically hasn’t been a day where you weren’t at least a little bit tipsy. like today, you were just past tipsy and at the point where your mind was fogged over.

all you could think about was how hana said that she was you at one point and how that completely messed with your brain. what if jake was just seeing how long he could spend with you before going crazy like he did with hana? make you feel like the only girl in the world until the two of you “don’t click” anymore? it all terrified you, so you decide to not think about it at all.

you and jungwon were in your living room, lazily lounging on the couch as episodes of H2O: just add water played. you sighed deeply to yourself and jungwon looked over at you in question.

“everything reminds me of him,” you sighed again, watching as the girls raced to cover from the water.

jungwon side-eyed you. “be serious,” he said, eyes focusing on the tv screen again.

you stood from the couch, stumbling a bit. jungwon sat up. “where are you going?” he asked. you grabbed your jacket, there’s been quite the chill in the air lately, and slipped on your shoes at the door. “somewhere where i don’t think of him,” you responded.

opening the door, you stepped out before jungwon could say anything else.

truthfully, you didn’t know where you were going. you decided to wander and let your feet guide you hopefully to somewhere that jake wasn’t. that’s how you ended up a couple feet from jay’s backyard gate.

his words crept into your mind. maybe the two of you were the better match—and you were so, so lonely. at the very least, you just needed someone to comfort you. you knew drinking everyday wasn’t healthy, and jay was your friend. he would help you, right?

suddenly you heard his voice. “y/n?” jay asked and his face appeared in front of you. he looked worried and it took a second to realize that you were crying.

jay ushered you inside and to his room. he sat you on his bed, making sure that you were comfortable as he laid your jacket onto his desk chair. “what happened?” jay asked and all the emotions you tried so hard to keep at bay rushed forward.

it didn’t help that you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on jay’s door. jake’s love bites were just about healed—but you could still see them. it made you cry harder.

jay took you into his arms and you melted into them, crying into his chest. he rubbed comforting circles into your back and held you close until you were able to calm down a little. you looked up at him for a moment, still teary eyed, and softly pressed your lips to his.

you could tell that he was shocked—you were a little too, but he kissed you back nonetheless. the soft kiss between the two of you soon grew heated and you lifted yourself up onto the bed to sit in jay’s lap as his hand came to rest against your cheek. it wasn’t enough, you needed more.

deepening the kiss you grinded against jay’s thigh and he pulled away from your lips slightly, brows drawn together as his eyes remained closed. “y/n…” jay breathed, his voice low. “you're emotions are high right now and i don’t want you to do something that you’ll end up regretting. take a nap, we can talk more when you wake up and you’re sober.”

he pulled away more but you just shook your head. you needed this. “please…” you whispered, looking at him desperately before chasing his lips. whatever internal battle jay had with himself, he clearly lost as he kissed you back with more passion than before.

you grinded against his thigh more, low whines escaping your mouth as you tried to pull him closer. then, you blinked and you were under him. the two of you caught your breath, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. “do you want me to be nice…” jay trailed, breath fanning across the side of your neck, “…or do you want me to be mean?”

change is what you needed, and jake was always so nice when the two of you were intimate. “mean,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. jay smiled before dipping his head to kiss you again, this time rougher.

clothes were discarded and in a flash you were laying naked on jay’s bed. your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer as you grabbed his shoulders for dear life as he pushed into you. your face contorted into one of pleasure and you buried your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your moan.

jay pushed you back onto the bed so he could get a full view of you and shook his head. “so pathetic and desperate… i want to hear you moan for me.”

he thrusted roughly into you and you moaned loudly. “that’s it,” jay smiled, fucking into you at a fast pace.

your eyes rolled back and all you could do was let the moans and whines and whimpers spill from your open mouth. jay’s pace was so fast that you felt like you were being split in two, his thick length stretching you so good that you saw stars.

he bent down to the shell of your ear, grunting from the effort he was putting in as he held down your hips, “i bet he never made you feel this good.” your back arched off the bed as you started to tremble.

“never was able to have to have you act like a whore in heat for cock, has he?” jay asked. you couldn’t answer him, head too in the clouds to even form a coherent sentence. you felt too good and pleasure spread throughout every inch of your body. it made you forget what you even came here for.

you were flipped so that you were on your hands and knees. your face fell down into the pillow. suddenly, there was pain at your scalp. jay kissed the side of your neck, his hand buried in your hair. “show me how much of a good girl you are. how desperate you are.”

gulping, with shaky legs you fucked yourself on his cock. everytime your head would try to fall, jay would tighten his grip in your hair to keep you upright. the more you fucked yourself onto him, the more your legs shook at the feeling in the pit of your stomach grew. you were sent over the edge when jay pushed your head into the pillows and fucked you himself.

“too m-much!” you cried, tears springing to your eyes. “can’t…”

“awe, you poor slut…” jay cooed mockingly. his condescending words only aided the rope in your stomach further to snapping. “sweet, pretty little whore. be glad your head is in the pillows and i’m not making you ride me like i should be.”

you cried out again, rope completely snapping as you came around jay’s cock. he didn’t stop—of course he didn’t. he was gonna keep going until he got his fill too.

you writhed underneath him as his pace only grew quicker. he pulled you by your hair towards him and back onto his cock as leverage to rut into you quicker. your mixed grunts and moans filled his room and the overstimulation sent you spiraling.

jay twitched inside you and he let go of your hair and grabbed your hips tightly, holding them against his as he came inside you and filled you up more. a loud moan fell from his lips as you fell back into the pillows, your body feeling like complete jelly.

“fuck,” jay groaned. “that’s my little slut.”

pulling out of you, you felt as your mixed cum poured out of you and down the back of your legs in a thick load. jay cursed behind you again before taking two fingers and fucking your sensitive hole with them, groaning at the wet sound it made. you whimpered, trying to angle your hips away from him.

“so pretty… so pathetic.” jay chuckled to himself.

your mind was still hazy from the alcohol as jay pulled you up onto shaking legs to get you all cleaned up in his bathroom. you could barely see with the change of scene and bright lights making everything seem blurry. you didn’t even realize that you were back in his room now and he was helping you put your shirt back on.

it wasn’t until you woke up, who knows how many hours later, next to him in just your shirt and panties confused. your head felt like it was going to explode from the alcohol as you took a look around the room, eyes widening from the unfamiliar surroundings. you were even more confused when a sleeping, half-naked jay was next to you. a horrific expression set on your face.

the sun was just about to set and guilt and regret hit you like a freight train. slowly, you slid out of the bed, making sure that jay didn’t wake up. you hurriedly put the rest of your clothes and jacket on and rushed out of jay’s room as quietly as you could.

all of the memories rushed back to you all at once as you rushed down the path to the boardwalk. what have you done? kissing jay was one thing, but sleeping with him? that was something entirely else. now it was all tangled in your emotions regarding your relationship with jake.

head hung low, you ran all the way back to you house, wishing that you never stepped out in the first place.

you had just gotten off work and were on your way home when a hand grabbed your wrist and spun you around.

“so you slept with him?” jake asked, crossed somewhere between hurt and anger. your eyes widened and that familiar guilt filled you once more. “i-i was drunk, it was a mistake!” you quickly replied.

jake wryly laughed. “a mistake…” he trailed, shaking his head and looking to the ground.

“yes, a mistake!” you exclaimed, pulling your wrist from his grasp. “and i regret ever doing it. you’re acting like you’re the only one who’s allowed to make mistakes!” jake looked at you incredulously. “how did you even find out?” you asked.

you surely didn’t tell anybody, you had no want nor need to flaunt it around. it never should’ve happened at all. that doesn’t mean jake got to look at you like you betrayed him when the two of you aren’t even together anymore.

jake pulled out his phone and shoved the screen in your face. “because he sent me a fucking picture of you sleeping half-naked in his bed with the word ‘checkmate’ attached.”

heart dropping, you took jake’s phone as you looked horrifically at his screen. you weren’t half-naked—you were covered by your rolled up shirt and panties—but it was still way too exposed. you honestly couldn’t believe that jay would take a picture of you after—and send it to jake, no less.

the sudden realization hit you harder than all of the guilt and regret you’ve been feeling. jay used you to get a leg up on jake. how much of him liking you was just him trying to get back at jake through you. a second realization hit—they’ve both been using you to get back at each other in this years-long rivalry. you felt sick.

tears welled up in your eyes and you pushed jake’s phone into his chest to get it away from you. you ran your hands down your face as you tried to breathe. you then glared up at him, “don’t act like you care... you only want me to get a leg up on jay. you don’t actually want me. both of you have been using me to get back at each other. all of this has been meaningless.”

“that’s not true, and you know that’s not true.” jake sighed deeply. “if you want jay—fine. i’ll take a step back and i won’t bother you anymore. but you can’t keep dragging me along and toying with both our feelings because you can’t decide. we can’t do this anymore—i can’t do this anymore, y/n. you know that i’m in love with you, and i know that you love me too deep inside. i’m trying to tell you how you calling this all meaningless really hurts me.”

“you’d know a lot about hurting people,” you murmured. “and ‘dragging you along’? ‘toying with both of your feelings’? i’ve done nothing of the sort.” a single tear fell from your eye and you harshly wiped it away.

“if you can’t accept that it was a mistake sleeping with jay and that i deeply regret it—whatever. but, the only people dragging people along and toying with feelings have been you and jay.” with that you turned on your heels and stormed off.

[ AUTUMN — THE COLD AIR MATCHES YOUR HEART ] 𓇼 and it’s freezing to the bone—yet, there’s a spark.

your mind was everywhere lately, a complete mess. at least you had stopped drinking since sleeping with jay. only, things changed for the worse.

you felt like an echo of who you were when you first arrived in this town. in a couple of weeks you had managed to convince yourself that maybe this was the best you were ever going to get. that maybe letting people use you in such ways was the only way you would ever feel loved. at least, that’s how it seemed—and so far nothing was proving your thoughts wrong.

the relationship between you and jay was complicated. you didn’t even know how to describe it anymore. he went around acting as if you were his girlfriend, even going so far to plant kisses on your cheeks. however, the two of you haven’t even kissed since the day you slept with him.

on your end, he was still just a close friend—though you have been growing more distant from him. you didn’t know if he noticed, and at this point you didn’t care. the only thing you wanted to do these days were get up, go to work, go home, and sleep the rest of the day away.

you were walking home one day after work, completely out of it and not at all listening to what jay was saying to you, when he stopped you. jay sighed to himself, like something had been weighing on his mind. “i can’t,” he said suddenly. all your energy allowed was the quirk of your eyebrow in a silent question.

“this has to stop. clearly you aren’t interested and i like you way too much to have only a half-assed relationship. it’s either one-hundred percent or nothing at all.”

something clicked in your brain and you gave him a pleading look as you shook your head. you didn’t want to lose the only affection you had left. “what are you talking about?” you asked.

“i mean come on, the two of you are made for each other, it's clear as day!” jay drawled. “has anyone told you what he was like when you left? even i was shocked to see him look like a shell of himself. and you act like i can’t see it—even when you’re with me you’re imagining you’re with him…”

tears poured from your eyes as you shook your head more. “no… no, that’s not true!”

deep down you knew it was true. you spent all your waking hours thinking about jake. thought about how royally you both fucked everything up. and to think that you didn’t want drama this summer… all your summer was filled with was drama—and it was creeping into your autumn too.

all you wanted was to be in jake’s arms again, but you didn’t know if that would ever happen. not after how much the two of you hurt each other. maybe it was for the best that you weren’t together if all it was going to cause was pain.

jay nodded at you solemnly. “go. be with him. stop delaying the inevitable when we both know the two of us won’t work out.”

“but-but i like you!” you exclaimed. another lie, but it was your last attempt at the love you so desperately clung to—even if it was false.

“not in the same way you love him, y/n.”

jay gave you a sad smile before he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone as tears slid down your cheeks. you wrapped your arms around yourself as the cold autumn breeze draped over your body and made you shake. you sniffled and kept walking to your house, trying not to cry harder.

later that night you were even more of a mess than you were before. you sat in the dark of your room as you cried even more and even harder, the tears just seemingly never ended.

all you thought about was how you fucked everything up. how nothing will ever probably be the same again. and worst of all—all you wanted was someone who most likely didn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

to make matters worse, the subconscious part of your brain was working overtime and you didn’t even register the ringing of the phone pressed to your ear until it was too late. 

“y/n?” jake’s voice asked softly, slightly groggy. shit.

your eyes widened to saucers and you fumbled with the phone in your hands as you tried to quiet your sobs. you finally pressed the ‘end’ button and threw your phone across the room. seconds later you heard your phone buzzing with a missed call and texts from jake. 

“shit…” you trailed, realizing your mistake. all you did these days were make mistakes. “shit, shit, shit!” the tears fell from your eyes faster and you desperately wanted to scream—and you would’ve if it wasn’t so late in the night and your family was asleep.

a few minutes later, you heard the familiar opening of your window. jake stepped over the window ledge, clad in his pajamas and his long hair tousled like he got attacked by wind despite there not being even a breeze outside. shocked filled you as your eyes met his after so long.

you quickly wiped away your tears and turned your back to him. “i-i don’t want to talk to you!” you lied, sniffling hard to stop the sob trying to fight its way out of your body. you hated to admit it, but jake’s mere presence already made you feel immensely better.

the sound of your window closing behind you made you jump slightly. “then don’t talk,” jake said. behind you, the bed dipped. jake pressed his back against yours and you could feel the slow rise and fall of his breathing. “but i’m not leaving you alone right now.”

slowly, jake intertwined his hand with yours. “you can be as angry as you want with me. be as silent as a mouse until you want to talk again… but i’m not leaving your side.” the pad of his thumb rubbed the back of your hand and you broke down completely.

sobs wrecked through your body and you could no longer hide them from him. hot tears ran down your cheeks—more tears than you felt like you’ve ever cried in your entire life. you completely unraveled. you could tell that jake wanted to turn around and comfort you—you felt the turn of his head as he tried to look at you and the twitch of his fingers—but he wanted it to be on your terms. that just made you cry even more.

you’ve cried so much today that you were sick of crying forever.

it was shocking that even for a second you thought differently. jake was the one for you. it was always going to be jake, no matter the up and downs the two of you went through. it was never going to be anybody but him. you burned for him like you didn’t for no other.

finally, you managed to get yourself together enough to speak. half coherent apologies fell from your lips. “i-i’m sorry,” you finally managed. “i’m so sorry. i… i ruined everything and—” jake shushed you and you felt him shake his head.

you continued anyway, “i was acting like… like…” you just couldn’t find the right words.

jake shushed you again, this time turning to face you. you turned too, blistering tears still falling from your eyes. jake shook his head and cupped your wet cheeks with his hands, using the pad of his thumbs to wipe them away. you stared at him again for the first time in so long, still not quite believing that he was in front of you again.

you both seemed to be worse for wear. there were dark circles under jake’s eyes and they were red-rimmed like he had cried recently. still, he looked at you with that certain look in his eyes that he always had, and you were finally able to put a name to it—love.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” jake said softly, but firmly. “nothing at all. if anyone is sorry, it’s me. you don’t know how sorry i am for making you think that i was dragging you along and toying with your feelings. i would never do that to you.”

your brows knitted together. you didn’t understand how he was so forgiving of you. you shook your head, “you deserve better than me.”

jake just chuckled. “i don’t want anybody but you.”

jake rested his forehead against yours before pulling you closer to him. you rested your head against his chest, hearing the soft thumps of his heartbeat, as you wrapped your arms around him. jake held you tightly—like if he let you go you would completely disappear.

slowly, you felt yourself begin to drift, the taxing emotions of the day finally catching up with you. you gripped the back of jake’s pajama shirt, scared that once you fell asleep you would wake up and he would be gone and this was just all one big dream. but the more you tried to say awake, the further your eyelids drooped.

“come here,” jake whispered, moving into a lying position. you cuddled up into his side, your head on his chest. jake rested his chin on your head. “sleep,” he said. “i’m not going anywhere.”

it didn’t take you long to drift into darkness, the sound of jake’s heartbeat aiding you. still, you grabbed onto him like your life depended on it the entire way—even after jake had covered the two of you with your blanket.

in the morning, jake awoke to you still tucked into his side and to the creek of your bedroom door opening. jungwon poked his head inside, a worried look on his face, before nearly jumping ten feet in the air after seeing jake.

jake held a finger to his lips, silently telling jungwon to keep quiet since you were still sleeping. with wide eyes, jungwon nodded. slowly, he shut the door and left the two of you alone.

looking down at you, jake made sure that you were still sleeping and was relieved to find that you still were. the sun peeked through your closed blinds, lighting up your room ever so slightly. jake held you closer to him and softly cradled your face with his hand, careful to not wake you. you stirred, but only to move closer to him, making jake smile.

later, you stirred again. this time jake knew you were waking up since your grip on his shirt suddenly tightened again as you stiffened. jake rubbed circled onto your back before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, the actions visibly relaxing you.

your eyes cracked open, adjusted to the change in brightness, and looked up at him before you buried your face back into jake’s chest. jake’s smile grew and you felt the vibrations of his laugh. “good morning, pretty,” jake said.

the cold autumn weather was only getting colder, but that didn’t stop you and jake from going to your spot.

you were giggling as jake wrapped his scarf around you, purposefully covering more of your face than he needed. he then pulled the scarf down to chastely kiss your lips, returning the scarf back to its former position of covering your face. you giggled more, “you gonna get sick!”

“all that matters to me is that my girlfriend doesn’t get sick,” jake replied. 

you pulled him closer to you by his jacket and pressed your lips against his. the two of you moved your lips in sync before you pulled away, serious. there was something that you’ve been meaning to tell him since you’ve got here, and you felt that now was finally the time.

almost nervously, you said, “i love you, jake.”

jake stared at you for a second with wide eyes, like he thought he didn’t quite hear you clearly. when you smiled nervously at him is when it finally clicked for him. jake’s whole face lit up and he kissed you so passionately that the two of you almost fell over. “i love you,” he said before kissing you again.

you pulled away for air, giggling at his reaction. he started kissing you all over your face and you pushed him away, laughing more. “jake!” you exclaimed. he pressed a couple more kisses to your cheeks before kissing your lips again. “what?” he asked innocently, “i was just warming you up.”

you rolled your eyes and stood to your feet. you pulled him to his feet as well and the two of you dusted off sand from your clothes. “well, we should probably move away from the sea,” you smiled at him. your face then lit up.

there was still one more thing on your shared bucket list that you and jake still didn’t do. you completely forgot about the bucket list in general with everything that happened. “the abandoned skate park!” you exclaimed. “we still haven’t added our names to it!”

jake intertwined your gloved hand with his. he looked at you with eyes full of love. “let’s go then!” he smiled at you, kissing your cold cheeks. you scrunched your nose at him before dragging him out of your spot and towards the skate park.

on the way there, the two of you bought a disposable camera and a can of spray paint in your favorite color—at jake’s adamance. the two of you seeked out a good place to add your names for a while before finally finding the perfect spot.

“okay, go!” jake said, aiming his phone towards you. you turned and sprayed “y/n + jake = forever” into the spot the two of you had picked out before running back to where jake stood. the two of you switched—you taking the phone to record and him the spray can. jake then ran over and sprayed a wonky heart around your names, causing you to laugh.

jake looked back at you and laughed. “i told you you should’ve done the heart!”

you came up to him and he wrapped his arms around you as you got the two of you and your names in the camera view—kissing him briefly with an adoring smile—before ending the recording all together. jake then pulled the disposable camera out of his jacket pocket and snapped a picture of it and then of the two of you next to it. “to more memories!” he said.

after, jake turned to you. “do you remember what happened here?” he asked you. you nodded, “of course i do! this is where we had our first kiss!” jake smiled at you, kissing you like he did so long ago again, completely setting you alight and making your heart race even after all of this time.

“say it again,” jake said, his forehead against yours. you smiled. “i love you,” you replied.

you could practically feel the smile on jake’s face grow larger. “again,” he said. you giggled at him and the way he pulled you closer to his chest. “i love you, jake.”

“i love you, too.” jake kissed you again. 

you felt as if your world was back on track now, no longer was the axis all out of place. you were here in jake’s arms where you belonged, his lips against yours as the two of you giggled at each other. you would never love anyone like you love jake. “i love you more,” you finally replied to him.

jake shook his head at you. “impossible,” he laughed. “nobody can love anyone as much as i love you.”

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[zoe-oneesama]

What are your thoughts on what happened to Chloe at the end of Season 5? Do you plan on watching Season 6?

Like as IF that's the last we'll see of her.

I was gonna wait to give my review of Season 5 - I wanted a release date for Season 6 and then drop them like a count down leading up to the new season - which is why I haven't delved in much and talked about my opinions.

But Chloe's ending was bullshit, and we all know it. Not because she leaves Paris, not because she loses the few friends and connections she has, and not even because she's a massive brat who finally gets some form of comeuppance.

But because of the form that comeuppance comes in.

Why on God's Green Earth is ANDRE the one? ANDRE is the one to drag her ass out of Paris and condemn her publicly and gets to act like the big hero, doing the right thing and putting Chloe in her place? ANDRE. The one who GAVE her her place and covered it in gold leaf and never once until this whack-job of a season considered that a bad thing?!

Appropriate, appropriate face Caline.

The absolute absurdity of them to write THIS MAN in any sort of correct light, the one who from Day 1, Season 1 has been a solid and complete background for why Chloe is...Chloe. Who spoiled and abused his power to make sure she never felt an ounce of consequences or remorse or backlash. How dare they try and pull this move on us when they could remove Audrey from the story entirely and no one would second guess Chloe's entire personality or upbringing?

These writers have somehow convinced themselves that Andre is not only without any guilt in the outcome of this situation, but that he's redeemable! Redeemable through the act of shipping off his daughter, whom he's been nothing but devoted to, and sending her off to a boarding school with her (AS HE ADMITS) just as awful mother as her chaperone, while he abducts casually replaces her with his new better daughter, Zoé.

I'm sure that won't have an adverse effect on your child who is used to absolute and unconditional love for her whole life, you are definitely a good person who's finally figured out how to do the right thing.

/s

These writers have somehow convinced themselves that Chloe is absolutely hopeless and evil and has reached the point of no return, but ANDRE. Andre's fine.

And Gabriel too, apparently. Hm, seems to be a theme with these worthless male parents and getting off scott free....

[incognit0slut]

Crawling back to you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Simmons!Reader Summary: You never planned on having a casual fling with your brother's friend five years ago, nor did you expect him to fall in love with you, which forced you to end things abruptly. But now he's unexpectedly back in your life—older, wiser, and fully intent on winning your heart. Content: (18+) >12k words, reader has commitment issues, he’s the softest softdom i’ve ever written, female oral, fingering, unprotected p in v, a little squirting? teeth rotting fluff and a chaotic ending because who am i without my crack humor A/n: This is for @imagining-in-the-margins FWB writing challenge and somewhat a celebration post for 7k milestone. Idk how that happened but tysm :( I hope you like this as much as I did writing it because matt simmons is so underrated??? I’m also freaking nervous with this i haven’t posted a new fic in a while so please please please be nice i feel like throwing up

Surprise has a way of stopping time. Although you're not sure you can call it that. What you’re experiencing is more than just surprise, it’s the kind of feeling that makes you freeze in place. It’s not just a jolt to the system—it’s a full-body takeover. Your breath catches, your heart skips, and your thoughts scatter like leaves caught in the wind. How could they not, when the last person you expected to see is standing right in front of you, clad in the most questionable clothes?

You almost laugh at how absurd he looks. He’s wearing an oversized hoodie with a tacky “Washington D.C.” print sprawled across the front. It’s baffling why he’s draped in that shapeless thing over his freakishly tall frame, but it’s too hard to focus on something so trivial when you’re still grasping with the reality of seeing him again. You really can’t believe it. Spencer Reid is here. The Spencer Reid.

The guy whose heart you broke five years ago.

You should have seen this coming. In fact, you kind of did, when your brother’s friends came rushing into the hospital room, their voices a chorus of “oohs” and “aahs” as they crowded around the newborn cradled in Kristy’s arms. You exchanged polite greetings when they noticed you—Penelope even pulled you into a tight hug, gushing about how amazing you looked—and thankfully, there was no sign of him.

But you’d almost allowed yourself to believe he wouldn’t show up. When the small space became overly crowded, you stepped out into the waiting room to catch your breath… only to find him standing a few feet away with JJ.

And just like that, all the air seems to vanish from your lungs.

You had a plan, of course. In the back of your mind, you always knew a chance meeting was inevitable, whether you liked it or not. And that plan was simple. You’d offer him a polite smile. Exchange a few words, nothing too personal. You’d be friendly but distant, always make sure to keep the kind of composure that says you’ve moved on, and that the past is just that: the past.

But those well-laid plans seem fragile now, almost naive as you suddenly caught his smile. Now how do you stick to a script when your heart is starting to rewrite all the lines? Or blur the lines specifically, when the past and present merge so seamlessly that you’re reminded of the first time that same smile had charmed you.

You’re suddenly thrown back to that day five years ago, when your brother had thrown a barbecue cookout to celebrate some joint investigation his team had wrapped up. You didn’t know the details—didn’t really care to, if you were honest—but Matt had called you and insisted that you join him.

You hadn't thought much of it at the time. It sounded like another family gathering with a few new faces. But that was the day you met Spencer, and what began as a simple introduction quickly spiraled into something much more complicated. Really complicated. Because as charmed as you were by his smile, he had wanted something more from you when all you could offer him was your body.

So you ran away.

Although not very far, because apparently, he’s standing a few steps away from you, five years later. And the worst part? He’s now very much aware that you’re here. You watch as his jaw slacks open as he takes a double-take. You’re rooted in place. JJ, on the other hand, tugs his sleeve as she notices his demeanor slowly shutting down. She turns around to see what’s caught his attention, and when she spots you, a huge smile spreads across her face.

"Hey! You're here!” You force yourself to look away from him as she moves forward. You reciprocate the hug she throws at you. "How are you?”

You’re not entirely sure how to answer. How do you even explain that your heart just did a triple backflip and landed somewhere near your stomach? Or that you’re seconds away from having an internal existential crisis because, of course, the universe would choose this moment to throw Spencer Reid back into your life?

There's really no good way to sum that up. So instead, you plaster on a smile that probably looks more like a grimace and reply, "Good. I’m good.”

JJ doesn’t seem to notice the strained edges in your voice. “It’s so nice to see you again! How long has it been?”

There’s a moment of silence as you try to gather your thoughts. But before you can respond, Spencer’s voice suddenly cuts through the quiet. It’s soft, almost hesitant, as if he’s been holding onto this detail for far too long, but every syllable rings in your ears.

"Five years," he says. "Five years, three months, and seventeen days."

Your stomach does another flip. JJ raises her brows, her eyes darting between you and him. You carefully meet her gaze. "Actually, you and I met up last year.”

“Oh, right!” She exclaims, her face lighting up as the memory clicks into place. “You were in town for a conference, right? I totally forgot about that.”

“You were in town last year and you didn’t tell me?”

God, he’s making it terribly hard for you to keep your composure. You throw him a sidelong glance. “I didn’t know you wanted to see me.”

His expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. He looks at you as if your words sounds ludicrous to him.

“I always want to see you.”

You can't decide what surprises you more, the fact that he still wants to see you after all these years, or how easily he says it. The words roll off his tongue so casually, so effortlessly, as if the weight of your shared past doesn’t cling to them. And to make matters worse, he's saying this right in front of JJ, who is now staring at him, clearly scrutinizing the significance behind his words.

You quickly shift your attention to her, forcing another smile. "So, are you going to head inside?"

JJ blinks at you. “Oh, yeah, I probably should.” She turns to Spencer and gives him a quick but knowing glance. "See you on Monday, Spence."

You glance at him. “You're not going to see the baby?"

"Spencer’s got something he needs to take care of,” JJ chimes in. There’s a slight edge to her voice, like she knows exactly what that ‘something’ is, but she doesn’t elaborate. She gives him one last look before heading inside.

You catch yourself looking up at him again. “You’re leaving?”

Spencer pauses, studying you carefully, his brow furrowing just slightly like he’s trying to read between the lines of your question.

“I was,” he says softly.

There’s a sudden tightness in your chest. “Right.”

“But now I don’t want to.”

There it goes again, the butterflies in your stomach. This is exactly why you didn’t want to see him. You knew that once you looked into his eyes, heard his voice, it would stir up everything you’ve spent five years trying to bury. You’d told yourself it was better to pretend that whatever happened between you was nothing more than a stupid choice. But now, standing here with him so close, you can feel all those walls you built crumbling down with just a few words.

You finally look at him, like really look at him. It’s impossible not to notice how he’s changed over the past five years. There are faint lines around his eyes now, signs of age that wasn't there before. His hair is longer, a little messier. It curls around his ears in a way that makes him look almost boyish, yet undeniably charming which suits him more than you'd like to admit.

But even with all the changes, his smile—gentle and just a little shy—remains the same. That smile reminds you of a time when things were simpler, where it was enough to convince you that you didn't have to keep your guard up all the time. But then you remember the reason you walked away, and his smile becomes a little harder to look at.

Because while he's changed, grown, matured, so have you, and you're not sure if there's room for the person you are now in the space that once belonged to both of you.

His eyes scan you in the same way you’re assessing him. “You look good.”

Your mouth twitches at his words. You didn’t expect him to be so straightforward. “Thank you.”

“You’re even prettier than I remember.”

The sigh you let out is long and weary. He really knows how to push your buttons.

“Spencer. Don’t.”

“What?”

“You can’t just say things like that after—” You hesitate, crossing your arms. "After everything. What happened to 'Hi, how are you?’. Or maybe something simple like ‘What have you been up to? Anything new?’”

He blinks, clearly taken aback by your abruptness. “Okay. Hi, how are you?”

You cast him a wary glance. “Good.”

"What have you been up to?"

"Work."

"Anything new?"

"No."

He pauses again, his eyes searching yours before he asks, "No new boyfriend?"

You frown. “Huh?”

“Girlfriend?”

"Spencer."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Spencer."

He smiles sheepishly, his shoulders sagging slightly. "You're right, that was inappropriate. I didn't think I would see you again, it’s throwing me off a bit."

“You didn’t think I would be here for my newborn niece?”

His smile turns into a grimace. "I guess I wasn't thinking clearly." He shifts on his feet, fidgeting with his fingers—a small, familiar tic that you hadn’t seen in years. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

“It’s fine,” you reply, though there’s no real bite to your words. His nervous energy is making it hard to stay annoyed. Your eyes narrow on his oversized hoodie again, the casual, almost careless choice that seems slightly out of character for the Spencer you remember.

He seems to notice you staring so blatantly. “What?”

“You look funny.”

A hint of surprise flashes across his face. “You think I’m funny?”

“Different,” you correct. “Did you raid someone’s closet on your way here or something?”

"Oh… I had to change my clothes. I got wet at the park earlier.”

You glance towards the window with a frown. "It's not even raining."

"I ran through the sprinklers."

The cease on your forehead deepens. Even that sounds so unlike him. Spencer Reid doing something that carefree in public?

“You ran through the sprinklers? Alone?"

You notice his expression shift as the question leaves your lips, something very subtle, but you’ve known him long enough to catch it. The way his eyes flicker, the slight hesitation before he answers, makes it obvious. There’s a hint of something unspoken in the way he looks at you, and suddenly, it all clicks into place.

He wasn’t alone.

You look away. It's ridiculous, you think. To feel this somewhat… jealous when it should be the last thing on your mind because, really, what right do you have? What you had with him wasn’t even a relationship to begin with. But despite all the logic in the world, you can’t help the pang in your chest, the twist of something bitter and familiar curling in your gut.

"It's not what you think," he slowly says.

You force a small, awkward laugh, trying to brush it off. "I wasn’t assuming anything. It’s none of my business, anyway."

"No, really, it's nothing like that." he insists, scrunching his nose in the way he does when he's trying to think. "I mean, I did meet someone at the park, but it’s not like… what you might be thinking. We were just talking, and… and then there were these sprinklers and it wasn’t really planned or anything, then she—well, technically, we weren’t even alone the whole time because there were other people around, and it’s not like we—”

“Spencer, you don’t have to explain—” you begin, but then something dawns on you. “Wait, is this what JJ was referring to? Did you… Did you have plans?”

You notice his Adam’s apple dip as he swallows. "Kind of," he admits. “But it wasn't anything serious. It was just, you know, a casual thing.”

You can't help the way your stomach knots. Casual could mean anything. Maybe a simple coffee between two friends, or even a lighthearted conversation over lunch. But in your experience, at least in the book you and Spencer had written together in the past, casual had always meant sex. And now, hearing him say it about someone else feels like a punch to the gut you hadn't expected.

You suddenly feel foolish for letting your mind go there, for assuming that whatever he meant by casual was the same thing it had meant for the two of you back then. It's been five years, and so much has changed. Maybe casual means something entirely different for him now, and you're the one stuck in the past, reading into things that no longer hold the same weight.

He must have noticed the slight falter in your expression, the way your eyes momentarily cloud over with something you can’t quite hide. He takes a step forward. "It’s really nothing.”

You take a step back. “Even if it is, it’s really not my business.”

“But it’s not,” he urges. He’s suddenly so persistent, and you can’t help but feel the embarrassment gnawing you at how easily he can read your mind. It's one thing to wrestle with these feelings privately, but having them so clearly acknowledged makes it all the more humiliating. You can’t believe you let yourself get so worked up over something that shouldn’t matter this much.

You eye the exit door. “I need to go.”

"Right now?” His brows knit together in confusion. “But your family’s here."

You’ve only spent a few minutes with him and you’re already running away.

"I just remembered I have to take care of… something."

The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, but you don’t wait for his response. You quickly turn on your heel, and when he calls out your name with concern, you force yourself to keep moving, scurrying off down the hallway.

Me: I'm heading back first Big bro: You okay? Me: Bad headache Big Bro: You didn't eat anything, did you?

You scoff. What is it about your brother always zeroing in on eating whenever you complain about feeling off?

Me: You know I did. Just not much Big Bro: That’s what I thought. There’s some leftover dinner in the fridge. And check the second drawer in the kitchen, there should be some ibuprofen Me: Yes, Dad Big Bro: Don’t get smart with me Me: 🫡 Big Bro: Drink lots of water Me: Yes, sir. Anything else on your mind while you’re giving out parental advice? Big Bro: I’m just trying to keep myself from dragging you out of my house if you collapse Me: 🙄 Big Bro: The kids are staying with Kristy’s parents, I’ll drop by tomorrow morning Me: Okay Big Bro: Call me if you need anything

You toss your phone down on the bed, then let out the most exasperated sigh. Spending your Saturday night in your brother’s guest room is the last thing you expect to be doing, let alone faking a headache just to avoid confronting a situationship from the past. You honestly thought you’d outgrown this kind of avoidance, but here you are, slipping back into old habits as if no time has passed at all.

Ironically, your mind stumbles into the past, and you remember a conversation you once had with Spencer. It was during one of those nights when you both were tangled in each other’s arms. You could faintly remember the conversation started with him talking about his work.

He never actually told you the details of his cases, but he liked to share his thoughts on the different complexities of the human mind. And on that particular night, he was rambling about the psychological concept of avoidance, which he claimed to have detected the first time he spotted the bad guy. He went on at how people often retreat into familiar behaviors to protect themselves from discomfort.

At the time, you had brushed it off with a joke, teasing him about overanalyzing everything when the situation had already played out. But now the irony isn’t lost on you. You’re doing exactly what he once explained. It’s almost laughable if it didn’t sting so much to realize how right he was.

A sharp ding from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts, and one glance at it tells you exactly who’s messaging. The name on the screen makes your chest tighten, but you don’t even give yourself a moment to consider responding. You quickly turn the phone to silent, push yourself off the bed, and head straight for the kitchen. True to your brother’s words, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge, but the idea of reheating it doesn’t seem appealing to you.

You reach for the bottle of wine instead.

The red liquor tastes like butter, or something close to it. It’s similar in the way the liquid melts over your tongue, spreading warmth through your chest and settling comfortably in your belly. By the time you're sipping the second glass, you feel more relaxed, but then the sharp sound of the doorbell ringing cuts through the calm.

You glance at the door from the position of the couch. You have a strong feeling about who it is. But as much as you're sure of the who, what really gnaws at you is the why.

You hesitantly make your way toward the door, and sure enough, when you pull it open, Spencer is standing at your brother’s doorstep. The corner of his lips turns upward in an awkward, almost apologetic half-smile as if he’s unsure of how to begin or whether he should even be there in the first place.

You lean against the doorframe. “Did Matt tell you I was here?”

He gives you a pointed look, his eyebrows raising slightly. “No, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.” You throw him the same questioning look, and he explains, “This is the only place you’d stay in town because not only do you hate staying alone at a hotel, but Matt wouldn’t let you even if you tried.”

You can’t believe he still remembers your offhand comment about sterile hotel rooms. It’s one of the reasons you used to prefer staying at his apartment whenever you were in town.

“Why are you here anyway?” You ask. “I thought you had plans.”

He pauses for moment as if deciding how much to say. Finally, he clears his throat. “Can I come in? I’d rather explain it inside.”

"I don't think you owe me any explanations about what you do with your time," you reply, crossing your arms.

"Maybe I don't owe it, but I want to give it.”

“Which isn’t necessary.”

“But appreciated, I hope.”

You find yourself caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. You tell yourself not to read too much into it, but there's a part of you that can't help but soften at his words. Maybe it's the way his eyes reminds you of melted chocolate as he stares at you that makes you want to let him in, despite your better judgment.

You pull the door open. “Fine, but take your shoes off. Kristy’s very serious about hygiene.”

He does as he’s told and tucks away his shoes on the rack by the door.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

He shakes his head slightly, offering a small smile. "I'm good, thanks."

You nod and gesture toward the living room. He follows you, and as you both approach the couch, he instinctively moves to the far end, settling down cautiously as if not wanting to invade your space. You take a seat on the opposite end.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

He leans back slightly, resting his hands on his knees. You can tell he's trying to gauge your mood, figure out how much to push and when to hold back. "Do you remember when we went on that date at the street fair?"

You frown, remembering how you had missed your bus home in one of your trips here and ended up wandering at the fair with him. “That wasn’t a date.”

"Fine. Do you remember when we went to the street fair together not on a date?"

“I remember."

His shoulders relax a bit at your response. “You spent ages deciding what to eat and you ended up choosing that little Korean stall in the corner. We had to walk a bit further to get there even when your shoes were hurting you.”

You think back, internally scolding yourself for wearing those damn boots that day. “You thought I was being ridiculous.”

"I didn't think it was ridiculous. I just didn't get it at first. Your feet were practically covered in blisters."

"I really wanted kimchi."

"I could tell, and it took me a while to understand why you went through all that trouble. Now I do.”

You glance at him, sensing there's more behind his words. “Why are you bringing this up?"

He meets your gaze. His brown eyes looking a little more golden underneath the dim light. "I guess this is me choosing.”

“That you’re craving for Korean?”

He gives a soft, genuine laugh, the kind that starts in his chest and reaches his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. “Not exactly,” he says and leans a little closer. “What I’m trying to say is, that’s how I feel right now. I'm here because I want to be, not because it's convenient, but because it’s you.”

There’s a subtle flutter in your chest, and your skin prickles with a familiar warmth as he speaks. Your heart beats a little faster, not enough to be alarming, but just enough to remind you that you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be. You can feel your palms start to sweat, and there’s that almost imperceptible hitch in your breathing that you hope he doesn’t notice.

“Spencer…” You don’t even know how to start. “It’s been five years."

He nods slowly. “I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do. A lot of has changed since the last time we saw each another, and you’re here acting like we both separated on good terms? Don't you hate me?”

His brow furrows slightly. “Why would I hate you?”

“Because I broke your heart. I—" Your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words. "The moment you told me you were falling in love with me, I... I ran. I couldn’t handle it. I pushed you away like a coward.”

“You weren't a coward, you were scared. And maybe I didn’t understand that back then, but I do now.”

You shake your head. “But I hurt you.”

The sigh he lets out is heavy, yet there's something deceptively calm about it, almost as if he’s already made peace with the past. “You did what you thought you had to do, and sure, it hurt. But I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I realized that I don’t blame you for needing space. It wasn’t about me not being enough, it was about you needing to protect yourself.”

His words start to chip away at the wall you’ve built around your heart. “I thought you’d hate me,” you admit quietly.

“I could never hate you."

You lower your gaze, your fingers fiddling nervously with the edge of the cushion. “Alright, let’s say you choose me. Now what? What is it that you want?”

He pauses for a moment, his fingers curled into his palms. He looks away briefly, taking a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts, then returns his gaze to you. “I want another chance.”

If you were surprised to see him at the hospital earlier, this is something entirely different. There’s something akin to panic fluttering in your chest. It’s amusing, really, how the human body reacts before the mind fully comprehends as if your heart knows what’s coming before you do. You can feel it in the way your breath catches, in the way your stomach knots with a nervous energy you can’t quite shake. Because how do you even react to that?

You finally turn to face him, leaning your head against the back of the couch. This moment feels like some sort of déjà vu, and just like the last time, your mind is already bracing itself, preparing to give him the same answer you did back then.

“You know it’s never going to work.”

He mirrors you, but instead of the frustration or sadness you half-expected, there’s a gentle smile on his lips. “You sound so sure.”

“That’s because I am,” you reply. “I know what you’re asking for right now, and we don’t function like that. Not in the past, at least.”

“How did we function?”

“Based on sex.”

“And what do you think I’m asking for now?”

“More than sex, which isn’t going to work."

“Why not?”

“Because—” you start, but the words catch in your throat. You’re not even sure how to explain. The fears, the doubts, the past... all of it feels too big, too overwhelming to articulate in a way that makes sense.

“Because the idea still terrifies you?”

You frown, caught off guard by the directness of his question. “No.”

The smile stretches even more across his face. “Then give me one good reason why you think so.”

"Oh I can name a few."

He studies you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s trying to read every thought racing through your mind. “Let’s make a deal then. You give me those reasons why we can’t work, and I’ll give you reasons why we can.”

You’re quiet for a moment, considering his offer. It’s bold, almost reckless, and yet... there’s something in his eyes that makes you want to accept the challenge.

"And if your reasons aren’t good enough?"

“Then we’ll deal with that when we come to it,” he replies softly. “But I’m willing to bet we won’t have to.”

"You really think you can convince me?"

"I can try." He leans a little closer, just enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body. "So, what’s your first reason?"

That’s too easy, too obvious. “You’re one of my brother’s closest friends,” you point out. “What happens if this doesn’t work out? I don’t want to put him, or us, in that position.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “That didn’t stop us in the past.”

You scoff. “Spencer, we were sneaking around behind his back. It’s not exactly the same thing. This… whatever this is, it would be out in the open, and that’s a whole different level of complicated.”

“It would be different, yes. But that doesn’t mean it has to be a problem. If anything, it shows how serious we were then, and how serious we could be now.” You scrunch your nose at his response. “Now what’s next on your list?”

"Uhh.. the distance! You’re in D.C., and I’m not. It’s not like I can just drop everything and move closer.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re a three-hour drive away, maybe two if I take the expressway. And honestly, with how much we both travel for work, I don’t see how that’s an issue.”

His reasoning is so undeniably logical you feel a flicker of annoyance, not at him, but at how easily he’s dismantling your arguments.

“You didn’t even want to visit me back then.”

"You were the one who didn't want me to. You kept saying it was easier for you to come here.”

His words hit harder than you expect. You remember all the times you insisted on making the trips yourself. You'd convinced yourself it was about convenience, but with him calling you out on it, you realize it wasn't about convenience at all. It was about keeping things on your terms, maintaining a safe distance even when that distance wasn't physical.

"Well, I had more flexible hours," you claim. The excuse is flimsy, and the way Spencer looks at you—patient, but not fooled—makes it clear that he sees right through it.

You try to think of your next reason, although the words seem to get stuck before they even form. You know you can easily rattle off more excuses, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes it harder than it should be.

“That’s it? You’ve only thought of two? I was expecting a bit more of a challenge.”

You scowl at him. "I didn’t say I was done."

"Take your time," he comments, leaning back slightly, still wearing that infuriatingly patient smile.

You huff softly, trying to regain your footing. "Okay, how about this? Sex."

There's a beat of silence. "What about sex?"

You feel the words forming, but they sound ridiculous even in your own mind. Still, you force them out of your mouth. Your subconscious is urging you to come up with more excuses to keep him at arm’s length. "That was all that we had. What if… what if we just fall back into the same patterns?"

“Don't you think that's a reason why we can work? If we were only ever about sex and we're still here, doesn't that show there's something more between us?"

“Or it just means we had a strong physical connection. That doesn’t necessarily mean there’s something more.”

“You really believe that? That all we had was just physical?”

“Yes,” you retort, though the confidence in your voice wavers slightly. Your eyes flicker away for a split second before you meet his gaze again. “That’s all it ever was and I don’t know if it can turn into something you’re trying to imply.”

He lets out a low, amused sound, as the corners of his mouth twitches upward. “You’re deflecting.”

“I’m being realistic,” you shoot back. “What if we try, and it doesn’t work? What if everything falls apart because we weren’t good at anything but the sex?”

His eyes light up, and suddenly he’s wearing the most boyish grin you’ve ever seen on him. “So you're admitting the sex was good?"

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“You know what I mean. What we had was...” Wild? Passionate? Crazy-hot-mind-blowing sex? “…intense. But intensity isn't enough for a relationship. What if the rest of it doesn't hold up?"

He leans in closer, his hand hovering near yours on the couch.

“But what if it does?”

All you can do is stare at him.

“You’re giving me all these reasons to push me away again,” he continues. “But I’m here because I’m not afraid of those doubts. I’ve always wanted to give you more than what we had because you deserve something real. I want us to be real this time, and I think you do too, even if you’re scared to admit it.”

His words are affecting you more than you like to admit. You can slowly feel it in the tension building between you, it’s surprisingly not the uncomfortable kind, but the sort that pulls you in, that makes you want to move closer even though every instinct tells you to stay put.

And then it happens. You feel a slight tremor in your leg, an involuntary movement that causes it to brush against his. The contact is so light it's almost like it didn't happen at all, but it did. He notices—Of course he does—and now there’s a certain gentleness in his gaze like he knows exactly what's going on inside your head. He doesn't push, doesn't rush, just watches you with those impossibly kind eyes.

And in the softest, most careful voice, he asks, “Can I move closer?"

Your heart is pounding now, the rhythm echoing in your ears, in your chest, in the pulse at your throat. The sensation travels downward, a slow, steady beat that moves through your body, inching its way down your spine, tightening in your stomach before it settles low in your abdomen. It’s a heat that spreads outward until it reaches your core, leaving you acutely aware of every inch of space between you and him—and how much you want to close that distance.

You find yourself nodding. He shifts closer. “Can I touch you?”

You really want to say something witty, something that might deflect from the weight of the situation, but the words won’t come out. You can only manage another nod. He moves slowly, carefully, giving you every opportunity to pull back. But you don’t. You can’t. You’re rooted in place as his hand reaches for you.

His palm gently rests on your jaw. Your eyes flutter closed against your consciousness, and the tension that’s been coiling in your chest slowly unwinds, replaced by a sense of calm. When his thumb slides across your cheek, he speaks again. His voice is so close it's as if the words themselves are brushing over your lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

You inhale sharply. The word "Yes" hovers on the tip of your tongue, but you don't need to say it out loud. He can already see the answer in the way you’re leaning into him, and his mouth is on yours in an instant.

The reality is, you’ve kissed Spencer before. Plenty of times, actually. You know the feel of his lips, the way they can be both gentle and demanding, the way he tastes faintly of coffee or something sweet when he’s had a treat. You also think back to those hurried kisses in the past when time was short and the world was pressing down on you. Or the playful pecks that came with laughter. Even the desperate, heated moments when the need to feel something, anything, was too overwhelming to resist.

This kiss, however, isn’t like any of those. This one is slow, and achingly tender. His movements are unhurried. The way his lips glide over yours carries a deep sense of care, like he’s trying to memorize every soft curve. Just as you begin to melt in his arms, he pulls away slightly, not very far, but enough to hover close that you can still feel the heat of his breath on your lips.

There’s a tense silence as the tip of his nose brushes gently against your cheek. You can tell he’s giving you the space to decide what happens next, and there are a lot of scenarios running in your head. You could push him away, repeating history all over again. You could be in denial and pretend all of this never even happened. But something inside you snaps.

Maybe it’s the way he’s holding back, so gentle, so careful, too afraid of pushing too far. Or maybe it’s the realization that you don’t want him to hold back, that you need more, that you’re tired of resisting what you’ve both been dancing around for so long. Before you can second guess yourself, you’re clutching onto the fabric of his hoodie, tugging him closer.

He tenses for a moment, but the hesitation is gone almost as soon as it appears. His mouth finds yours again, and he lets out a deep, relieved sigh. You feel the soft, insistent push of his tongue against the seam of your lips. You hold onto him, parting your mouth eagerly before he slips his tongue with a desperation that catches you off guard.

Then his hands seem to be everywhere all at once, tracing the curve of your spine, sliding down to the small of your back, and brushing along the edge of your jaw. His fingers then tangle in your hair, tugging gently while his other hand skims over your waist. But when his hand slips inside your shirt, calloused fingers brushing your soft skin, you slowly pull away. “W-Wait.”

His eyes widen slightly, and you can feel the shift in his body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no,” you say quickly, tugging him closer again. “I just… I think we should continue this conversation somewhere more… private?”

He pauses for a moment. “Really?”

“If you want to.”

A subtle smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Are you trying to seduce me for sex?”

You’re oscillating between being incredibly turned on and equally mortified. In a sense, yes, that’s what you’re asking. But you didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it. You don’t think he’s ever been this direct in the past, and now you’re wondering if you missed something before, or if he’s just tapped into a level of confidence you’re struggling to keep up with.

“Would it be inappropriate if I said that I am?” you ask hesitantly, and you can’t help but wince a little as the words leave your mouth.

“Since when have you been worried about being inappropriate with me?”

“Well, Spencer, if you haven’t noticed, there’s a five-year gap since the last time we slept together.”

His hand on your waist tightens slightly. “Five years too long, if you ask me.” Then he pulls you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. “You do realize this is you giving me a second chance, right?"

In a way, you do. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that you were better off keeping your distance. Walking away in the past was easy, but now… now it feels different. The years have stretched on, and the excuses you’ve made have started to wear thin. Especially when just being near him is starting to stir memories you thought you’d buried—some good, some less so—but all intense, all Spencer.

Maybe he's right. Maybe five years is too long to pretend that whatever was between you didn't matter.

You slowly meet his gaze. “I realize.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

You hesitate, not out of doubt, but because of the sheer gravity of what you're about to say.

"Maybe."

His sigh is audible when he hears your answer, and without missing a beat, he brushes the barest, lightest, most gentle of kisses on your lips. “Maybe is good.” Kiss. “I can take—” Kiss. Kiss. “—maybe.”

You think you should say something more, but all coherent thoughts scatter the instant his lips meet yours again. You return his kisses, hesitant at first, but quickly falling into a rhythm that feels achingly familiar. It doesn’t take long until his lips move into something more urgent. There’s a hunger there, a pent-up longing that he can no longer hold back. His tongue flicks against yours, teasing, coaxing, and you know you need to stop him before he starts to undress you right there on the couch.

You reluctantly pull back. “Bedroom. Now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls you to your feet, and you’re practically dragging him to the guest bedroom. When the door closes behind you, he’s quick to guide you toward the bed, his hands firm on your hips as he steers you backward. The moment your legs hit the edge of the bed, he pauses, his hands lingering on your waist, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Having second thoughts?” You tease. The sarcasm drips sweetly in your voice, knowing full well he’s been trying to win your heart the entire evening.

“No,” he mutters. “I’m trying to see if you are.”

You draw back from his arms just enough to climb onto the bed and lay down in the middle. “Does it look like I am?”

He shakes his head with that cute, bashful smile. Although there’s nothing bashful about the way he pulls off his hoodie and tosses it carelessly onto the floor. The shirt underneath is crumpled, and his hair is even messier, sticking up in ways that make you want to run your hands through it.

“Come here,” you motion for him. Without hesitation, he crawls between your legs and leans in for another kiss. His hair feels like the smoothest silk when you finally reach for it. There’s a slight dampness from the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, the way it curls just slightly at the ends, brushing against your forehead as he dips his head to capture your mouth.

You don’t think you can ever get tired of kissing him. There’s a familiarity in the way he moves. His lips mold perfectly to yours, soft yet demanding, as if he knows exactly how to draw out the deepest parts of your desire. And you feel it everywhere. In your pulse, in your veins, all the way down to the spot between your legs.

It intensifies even more when his lips begin to trail down your neck. You feel the first warm rush of arousal pooling in your panties when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, the fluttering veins below your jaw with so much intensity as if he's taking every one of your heartbeats for himself. Your grip tightens in his hair as he marks another spot near your collarbone.

“I’ve missed this so much,” he murmurs as he slowly nips down your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

You can only hum a reply, your voice catching in your throat as your head starts to spin from the way his hands are now trailing down your side. He reaches the hem of your shirt and pauses, fingers lightly tugging at the fabric.

“Can I take this off?” He asks, pulling back slightly just enough to look down at you. With his messy hair falling into his glossy brown eyes and swollen wet lips, how can you possibly say no to him?

Without a second thought, you nod, your fingers already moving to help him with the fabric. His eyes never leave yours as he slowly lifts your shirt. It slides up over your skin, and you raise your arms to let him pull it off completely, tossing it aside without a care. Your bra comes off next, and when that follows to the floor, his eyes sweep over your body.

There’s a certain look in his gaze. Devotion would be too strong of a word, but it’s something close—something softer, yet just as intense. You’ve seen desire before, felt it in fleeting touches and heated glances, but this is different. This feels different. It’s as if his gaze is reaching into the spaces between your thoughts, gently pulling at the threads that hold you together to unravel you in the most tender of ways.

He kisses the spot between your breasts.

“You’re always so pretty.”

He gives a soft peck just above your heart.

“So incredibly beautiful.”

Then his tongue flicks along the delicate curve of your chest, making a slow, teasing trail upward until he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks gently, rolling it around with his tongue, and you’re mesmerized by the lewd scene of him drawing your flesh between his lips. Your fingers instinctively find their way back into his hair, tugging on the soft strands as he continues to lap at your sensitive skin.

He then shifts slightly, his mouth releasing your nipple with a soft, wet sound before moving to give the same attention to the other. While he suckles and nibbles on one hardened peak, he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger, sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core. If you thought you were wet before, you’re certain you’re drenched by now. Your panties cling uncomfortably and the growing desire makes you ache to peel them off.

He must sense your growing need because his kisses trail lower, down to your stomach, while his fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings. His touch is teasing, slipping just under the elastic, and you instinctively lift your hips, silently begging for more. He takes his time as he slides the fabric down your legs, his knuckles brushing against your skin before discarding them somewhere in the room.

Your attention is on him as his palm dances along your inner thigh, and the closer he gets to where you ache him the most, the more your breath hitches in your throat. When his thumb brushes over the wet patch on your panties, your hips buck against him. “Spencer…”

He glances over at you and lets out the most appreciative sigh. You really are beautiful. Eyes full of lust, skin flushed with his marks. You’re a vision of longing, and every part of him is consumed by the sight of you. “Yes?”

You squirm under his gaze. “Aren’t you… going to take them off?”

A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face. “What, these?” He gives a playful tug at the edge of your panties, his fingers just barely slipping beneath the fabric before pulling away. “Are you sure you want them off?”

You try to hold back your groan when his thumb finds your clit. “Yes. I-I’m sure.”

He grins, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you, but instead of giving in immediately, he begins to circle your clit slowly with his thumb, watching your reaction closely. “On a scale from one to ten, how sure are you?”

Now he’s starting to get on your nerves. You can’t hold back the small huff falling from your lips. He simply laughs then slowly takes off the last piece of your clothing. The cool air instantly hits your skin as he grabs your knees, spreading your legs apart. He skims along your naked body and when you notice where his gaze settles, you swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy.

It's kind of ironic, you think, how you've gotten this far, and now, of all times, you're suddenly blushing like a damn teenager. It's as if your brain is catching up to everything your body already knows—that this is real, and it's happening. You can't help but laugh at yourself a little. Here you are, all tangled up in each other, practically begging him to get you naked and yet you're acting shy now?

He seems to notice the shift in your mood, his hands pausing on your thighs as he looks up at you with concern. He tilts his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “Did I do something wrong?”

You quickly shake your head. “I’m suddenly feeling very self-conscious.”

He studies your face for a moment. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” you blurt out, more forcefully than you intended, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab his wrist. “I… I guess I’m not used to feeling this exposed in front of you.”

He shifts slightly, moving closer so he’s eye-level with you, his hands still resting gently on your thighs. “We’ve done this countless times before.”

“I know, but that was years ago. Things feel different now… like there’s more at stake, maybe?” You let out a sigh. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” he reassures you. He soothes the skin behind your thighs. “But you don’t need to feel self-conscious with me. You’re beautiful, and I just want you to feel as good as you make me feel.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, there’s no doubt you’ll end up giving him your heart on a silver platter by the end of this. He shifts lower down your body. “We can go as slow as you want,” he continues, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another. “Just tell me what you need.”

You take a deep breath as his soft stubble grazes your skin. “I need you.”

“Then you’ll have me.”

You watch with heavy lids as he drags his lips along your skin until he presses the most tender kiss on your cunt. He really wasn’t lying when he said he could go as slow as you want because every kiss is achingly gentle, barely more than a feather-light touch. It’s the kind of softness that makes you writhe beneath him, and before you know it, your fingers are tangling in his curls while your hips buck against his face.

There’s a slight vibration on your skin—it could be his laughter, or maybe just a hum of contentment—but you don’t bother deciphering it. You’re too lost in the sensation as his tongue breaches your folds. You peer down and watch as he trails the tip of his tongue through your wetness, slowly tracing up and down your slit until he flicks it against your clit.

You’re honestly gone after that. You’re not surprised, though. If there’s one thing Spencer Reid is good at, it’s knowing exactly how to use his mouth. Sure, he’s a bona fide genius who spouts off random facts and quotes obscure literature, but his mouth? His mouth is a whole different level of expertise. It’s almost unfair how good he is. It’s like he’s studied you, memorized every little thing that makes you go crazy, and now he’s putting all that knowledge to devastatingly good use.

And it’s not like he’s doing it just for your pleasure. It brings him the same deep satisfaction. His eyes are closed, and he seems to lose himself in the act, savoring every taste, every reaction, every subtle shift of your body beneath him. It’s as though he’s completely immersed in finding an almost insatiable need to drink in everything about you. His tongue delves deeper, swirling around your entrance before sucking gently on your folds, pulling the soft skin into his mouth.

You find yourself pressing his head closer to your heat. His eyes flickers up to you. “You’re back.” Your response is simply another push of his head. “Oh. Needy, are we now?”

"Mhm," you manage to squeak out, feeling a rush of wetness seeping out of you. He leans in, his tongue catching a bead of moisture before it drips further, dragging it between your slick folds.

Your grip in his hair tightens.

“Spencer…”

“I know, I know,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a smile before his mouth descends again, this time focusing on your clit. His tongue flicks over the sensitive nub before he gently sucks, pulling it into his mouth with a slow rhythm that has you gasping. Each motion is perfectly timed and you feel yourself growing even wetter under his attention. His tongue swirls, then flattens before he sucks a little harder.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel that familiar coil in your stomach. The pleasure builds steadily, the tension winding tighter and tighter until it slowly overwhelms you. Spencer seems to sense it too, his hands gripping the back of your thighs a little tighter, pushing them further apart as he continues with unwavering focus. He’s not rushing, though, he’s savoring it, but his slow motion is enough to make you snap.

Your hips jerk against his mouth, and he doesn’t miss a beat, holding you steady as he continues his ministrations. He’s relentless in his gentleness, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from you, even as you’re left gasping for air. When you finally come down from the high, Spencer finally lifts his head and places a final, soft kiss on your inner thigh.

“Do you still feel self-conscious now?”

It takes you a moment before you can answer. You smile lazily at him. “Not after that.”

He grins and pulls you up into a sitting position. “Do you think you can give me another one?”

“Spencer,” you breathe out. “Even if you gave me thousands of orgasms, I’d probably ask for more.”

The laugh he lets out is warm and infectious, the sound vibrating through you in a way that makes you smile even wider. “Well,” he starts, slipping his hand down your thigh. “The human body is capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in a relatively short period of time, especially for women. So technically, you could keep asking for more, and I could keep giving them.”

“Even up to a thousand?”

“Maybe not to that extent.” He pulls you close, and you lean your weight against him. “Hold on to me.”

You do as you’re told and somehow you find yourself in a new position. When he spreads your legs apart, your senses go on high alert again. “Spence?”

He kisses your cheek, your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. “Try to relax.”

A gasp escapes your lips as his fingers dive between your thighs. Try to relax? Try to relax? Men and their audacity to tell you what to do, especially when they're the reason you're so wound up in the first place. Because how are you supposed to relax when his fingertips are brushing ever so gently over your clit? How are you supposed to calm your breathing when he’s spreading your arousal up and down your folds?

And how are you supposed to keep your composure when he suddenly fills you with, not one, but two of his fingers?

You feel yourself slipping and he tightens his other arm around your waist. “Told you to hold on.”

He’s starting to annoy you, but you listen to him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. You take a deep breath as he starts to move his fingers. Soap, you decide. It must be his soap, because he smells clean and crisp, almost like fresh linen and a hint of something peppery. It’s almost distracting if it weren’t for the way his fingers are curling inside of you.

Then you feel that sensation again, the kind that ripples through every nerve of your body. At first, it’s manageable, an intensity you think you can handle. But when he suddenly changes his technique, everything shifts. His entire hand moves in a fast, up-and-down motion that catches you completely off guard, and before you know it, you’re whining, your grip tightening on him as your head falls on his shoulder.

The rapid pace makes your head spin. It feels like he’s pulling the control right out of your hands, leaving you questioning your own limits. You’ve seen yourself getting wet, you’ve felt yourself become drenched before, but you’ve never experienced anything like this. You never realized your body could produce this much liquid. It’s not an overwhelming amount, but more than you’ve ever seen from yourself, and it splatters against his hand, dripping down your thighs.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch when your nails claw into his shirt. He keeps going, and going, and going, until the only thing you hear is your rapid breathing against his neck and the slick, wet sounds he’s coaxing out of you. You’re overwhelmed (in the best way, of course) but you can’t stop yourself from cursing as the sensation intensifies, multiplies even.

It's not until your body starts to go limp that he finally takes pity on you. He slows down, his fingers pumping lazily inside you. “Good?”

“How did you—when did you—” you exhale a long breath. “I can’t feel my legs.”

He slowly withdraws his fingers out, only to rub your essence over your puffy clit, and your hips jerk once more before he finally stops. You're a trembling mess once you sink into the mattress.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you do that before.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that in my life.” Your eyes suddenly feel incredibly heavy that you can't resist letting them flutter close.

He kisses the tip of your nose. “Still up for another one?”

You peer through one eye, and when you catch him starting to undress himself, your other eye shoots open. The nod you give him is eager. His smile widens as he shrugs off his shirt, and you can’t help but let your gaze drop to the line of hair trailing down his stomach. You wonder what it would feel like under your tongue.

"Wait."

Your eyes snap back up to meet his. "What?"

His face twists into a grimace. “I don’t have a condom.”

Shit. Neither did you.

You roll onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow and resting your head in your hand. “And you’re realizing this just now?”

“I was too focused with you."

And by that, he means giving you the most intense orgasm of your life. You watch as his fingers hover over his belt. “You really didn’t think of bringing one when you decided to come over?”

“My intention coming here wasn’t exactly for this.”

“Well, it would be great if you at least considered the possibility." You study his face and blurt out the first thing on your mind, “I don’t want to stop.”

He shifts his weight on the bed. “Me neither.”

“I mean… we could have sex without using one. We’ve done it before. Once.”

He recalls what you're referring to and lets out an amused laugh. “Are you sure? Didn’t you freak out when you realized your period was late?”

“That was a coincidence! I was stressed out at that time, but I’m safe now—I think.” You pause, brows furrowing as you start calculating your cycle in your head. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m not ovulating.”

“Pretty sure?”

You give him a look. “No, I’m actually sure. I know my body, and I’ve done the math. See?” You gesture vaguely, as if the numbers and facts are floating in front of you. “No ovulation in sight.”

The corners of his mouth twitches into a smile. “Alright then,” he murmurs, and leans down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “No ovulation in sight.”

“None,” you confirm before tugging his belt. “Can you please take off your pants now?”

He complies—with incredible speed—and when he’s finally as naked as you, your mouth waters at the sight of him. His cock is painfully hard, thick, with a bead of arousal glistening at the tip. You try to reach for him, but he has other plans. He crawls over your body and slips between your legs. He then grips the back of your thigh with one hand, pulling it up slightly to open you to him, while the other holds himself from the base.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The moan you let out is lewd. “Fuck, Spencer.”

An airy laugh slips out from him as he rubs the head of his cock around your clit. “So needy.”

You wiggle your hips. “Hurry up.”

He only hums in response, before easing his hips back just enough to drag his swollen tip through your slick outer lips. The underside of his cock splits your folds open with each stroke, and your head is spinning. It’s almost sweet how he’s taking this slow, but at this point, you’re so close to just shoving him inside you. You let out a frustrated whine when he pulls back, only to thrust forward just enough for the head of his cock to nudge at your entrance.

Your walls squeeze around him.

“O-Oh…” His mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where your bodies meet. “I… I don’t remember you being this tight.”

You follow his gaze, watching the way your outer lips swallow him inch by inch. “I-It’s been a while.”

He pushes further, and your nails dig into his shoulders as he stretches you in a way that feels almost too much, and you can't help but tense when he thrusts further. He wraps your leg around his waist before leaning down, propping his weight on his elbows.

“Need you to relax,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over the pulse fluttering wildly in your neck. You do as he says. Breathe in, breathe out. Clench, unclench. And then you feel him easing inside you, oh-so-deliciously slow, until you squeak out a gasp when he finally fills you completely.

Because fuck, he stretches you—wrenches you open, and you’re consumed by his heat, the pressure, the sheer size of him. It overwhelms your senses, and all you can do is sing out a filthy moan. He follows your tune with a melody of his own, though his voice trembles, sounding more like he’s in pain as if he’s trying to hold himself back.

“You’re so warm,” he groans, his breath hot against your skin. “You okay?”

You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “More than okay.”

“Do you think I can move?”

“Please.”

There’s no hesitation in the way he pulls back, only to sink into you again. His hips roll against yours in a way that feels both achingly slow and unhurried, like he’s savoring every second to memorize the way you feel around him. It’s like he can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re giving him the chance to be tangled up with you in this position again.

And truthfully, neither can you.

But here you are, two bodies moving in perfect harmony, intertwined in the most primal, human way. Flesh against flesh, breath against breath. Even your heartbeats sync in the same rhythm. The world beyond seems to dissolve, leaving nothing but the pull of desire that draws you deeper into the moment, into him, until the boundaries of where you end and he begins blur into something undefinable.

It’s nonexistent. You’re glued to him, fused in a way that feels as if this is exactly where you belong.

No more running away, you decide.

“Kiss me.”

He’s in no position to decline, and within a heartbeat, he captures your lips in the sweetest kiss—well, as sweet as it can go. Because even though he tastes like honeyed warmth, his hips continue to pound into you, hitting that deep, tender spot inside. You whine against his lips. A needy, breathless sound that has him faltering for just a second, his hips stuttering against yours.

“You feel so—” he chokes on his words. “God, you’re so perfect.”

You’re perfect, you want to say, but you stop yourself, biting down on the words before they escape. It’s not that you don’t believe it. You just can’t bring yourself to admit it out loud. Not yet. Instead, your need wins out, pushing past everything else.

“More,” you gasp between shallow breaths.

He rests his forehead against yours. “Yeah? You want me to go faster?”

You whine in approval.

The instant he pulls back, his tip barely teasing your entrance before slamming into you again, a sharp gasp escapes your lips. He repeats the motion. Once. Twice. By the third time, he doesn’t hold back, driving his hips hard and fast, the wet sound of your bodies slapping together echoing off the walls.

You turn into a putty mess. You can barely think, let alone form words, your mind clouded with nothing but the feeling of him—inside you, around you. Your whole world narrows down to this moment, to the way he fills you so perfectly. His forehead stays pressed against yours the whole time, his lips hovering above yours he murmurs, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

But it’s not. It’s everything. Maybe even not enough. “I…” you gasp when a certain angle from him hits a deep spot inside you. “Oh, Spencer… harder, p-please.”

He’s more than happy to oblige.

He shifts slightly, then snaps his hips forward with a sudden, forceful thrust. He repeats the motion. Over and over again. His pace is relentless now, and he starts to pant, his breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts, every exhale brushing against your lips. There’s a tension in his body, a taut strain in muscles, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. And you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth, swallowing each of his gasps as his control starts to slip away.

“Where do you want—” His voice falters. “Can I—inside—”

You nod frantically. “Yes. Yes.”

It’s enough to push you both over the edge.

The sensation starts as a gentle warmth in your fingertips, slowly winding its way through your body. It weaves through your limbs, spirals up your spine, before gathering intensely at your core. You’re shaking, trembling, and you instinctively reach out for something to ground yourself. One hand threads into his curls, the other clutches his jaw.

Then it happens. His cock moves in a frantic rhythm, sending you spiraling deeper into intense pleasure for the third time tonight. Your inner walls tighten around him as your orgasm crashes through you, gripping him so tightly that it pulls a raw, breathless groan from his lips. He slams into you with uneven thrusts as he presses your body flat onto the bed, until he stops and shudders, spilling hot, white liquid deep inside you.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt something this intense before—not even with him in the past. Every inch of your body is buzzing as his warmth spreads through you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed. You cling to him, your nails softly grazing his back as he finally lets out a satisfied hum, his lips moving to pepper kisses along your face.

He starts with your left cheek. Two gentle kisses. He moves to your right, giving a light peck that lingers just a moment longer, almost as if he’s blowing a warm breath against your skin. You giggle as the air tickles you. Then finally, he settles on your lips with a sigh that merges into a kiss. It’s soft, sweet, and tenderly slow.

You let out another laugh when he finally pulls away.

“What?”

His curls fall messily on his forehead and you reach up, brushing it back. “You’re starting to grow on me.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I grow on you?” You simply nod. “Like fungus?”

Your fingers pause in his hair. “Like what?”

"You know, fungus. It grows on things. Like mold or mushrooms,” he explains and gives you a smile. "Am I growing on you like that?"

You’ve been apart for so long that you almost forgot how his brain works. His unexpected comparison sparks your amusement, so you decide to humor him. “Depends on what kind of mushroom you are.”

He looks thoughtful for a while. “There's this mushroom called mycorrhiza. It forms a symbiotic relationship with trees and helps them grow by improving water and nutrient absorption."

“And that makes you what, exactly?”

“Essentially indispensable.”

“So you’re claiming you’re good for me?”

A slow, confident grin spreads across his lips. “I’m saying I’m exactly what you need.”

You burst out laughing. Your cheeks might actually ache from smiling this much. “That was pretty smooth.”

He looks incredibly pleased with himself. Then after a quiet moment, he buries his face in the curve of your neck. You close your eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against yours, and a sigh escapes your lips. It’s like all the time you spent apart melts away in that single breath, and something inside you relaxes, as if he’s managed to sneak back into the parts of you you’d forgotten existed.

Maybe he is right. Maybe, after all this time, he’s exactly what you need.

You wake up to the sound of clatter. It’s loud, jarring, and it echoes around the house. You stir in bed, stretching your limbs before tensing when you feel something poking your back. Your hazy mind immediately snaps into alert, and you open your eyes fully, glancing toward the window. Sunlight is already pouring into the room, far too bright for how early you thought it was.

You quickly turn over to the other side.

“Spencer. Spencer!” you hiss, shaking his shoulders urgently. “Wake up! We overslept!”

He groans softly but doesn’t move. Another loud clatter bounces off the walls, and your heart pounds wildly in your chest.

“Spencer,” you whisper sharply, eyes widening. “I think Matt is home.”

That finally gets his attention. He blinks his eyes open. “Wha—?”

You’re already halfway out of bed, rushing to the window to peek through the curtains. Sure enough, you spot your brother’s car parked in the driveway. “Yep, he’s here,” you mutter under your breath, the panic rising as you turn back to Spencer. “And now he’s going to kill us.”

“He’s not going to kill us,” he mumbles, but even by his voice, you can tell he’s not entirely convinced. You watch as he finally slips out of bed, scrambling to pick up his clothes scattered across the floor. “We talked about this last night. It’s not going to be as bad as you think.”

You shoot him a look before quickly pulling on your own clothes.

“There’s a big difference between telling him, and him finding out that his sister is sleeping with his friend while he was away taking care of his wife and baby.” You yank your shirt over your head. “In his freaking house.”

When you put it that way, Spencer’s heart sinks a little. Although Matt isn’t a violent person, he has twice the muscle he does, and it’s not hard to imagine him being a lot less forgiving in a situation like this. He can’t help but picture the worst-case scenario even though Matt’s always been the reasonable type.

Until now, maybe.

“Do you think I should climb out the window?”

You stare at him in disbelief. "Spencer, you’re not sixteen.”

“Actually, I’ve never been in a situation like this,” he admits, pulling up his pants. “My biggest concern when I was sixteen was getting my first PhD.”

You forgot how ridiculously smart he is. Smarter than most people, definitely smarter than you. “Well now you’re getting firsthand experience.” You start pacing around the room. “Let’s just try to stay calm.”

“That’s kind of hard to do when your brother could walk in while I’m half-naked.”

You look at him in horror. “Then put your damn shirt on!"

Before he can reply, there's a noise from outside the room—a quick shuffle of steps, light and rapid, as if someone’s rushing down the hall. You barely have time to react before the door is wrenched open.

But it's not your brother.

It's far worse.

You feel your stomach drop when your eyes lands on the small figure of your nephew, standing there with wide eyes. His gaze shifts back and forth—from you, disheveled and clearly flustered, to Spencer, whose bare back is facing the door, still fumbling with his pants. From little Jake's point of view, it must look like the most confusing sight, because he quickly retreats, bolting down the hallway.

“Dad! Help! There’s a strange man in Auntie’s room!”

You don’t know whether to laugh or panic. The fact that Jake didn’t recognize Spencer without his usual suit is almost comical. You glance at him, noticing how his body has tensed, his back straightening in alarm.

“Who was that?” he whispers, turning to you with wide eyes.

"Jake.” You blow a strand of hair that falls across your face. “Who apparently thinks you're an intruder."

The blood seems to drain from his face. “He didn’t recognize me?”

Your eyes flick over his appearance—his wild, tangled hair sticking out in all directions, bare chest still slightly flushed from sleep, and pants barely zipped. “Not when you look like this, no.”

But before he can respond, you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway, heavier this time.

Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Shit.”

“I should have climbed out the window.”

The idea of him dangling from the window is even more absurd. You glance toward the door. "Okay, wait here. Let me talk to Matt first." Your eyes flicker to his bare chest again, and you let out the most exasperated sigh. "And please, for the love of God, put on your shirt."

You don’t have time to wait for his response as you rush out of the room, quickly closing the door behind you. You take a second to catch your breath, trying to compose yourself, when a noise down the hallway draws your attention. Only then do you notice Matt cautiously advancing towards your way, his back against the wall.

That’s when you spot the gun in his hand.

“Seriously?” you hiss, staring at him in disbelief. “What the hell, Matthew!”

He looks at you, equally surprised. “Jake said there was a strange man in your room!” he replies defensively, tightening his grip on the weapon. “What was I supposed to think?“​

Your eyes shift toward your nephew, who’s peeking around the corner, his little head barely visible as he watches the scene unfold. This is definitely not how you expected your morning to go. A simple, awkward conversation was one thing, but having to disarm your brother while explaining this mess was an entirely different level.

“There’s no intruder, Matt. Put the gun down.”

He looks past you, his eyes zeroing in on the closed bedroom door. “Then who’s in there?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. There’s no easy way to explain this. How do you even start? That Spencer is standing half-naked in the guest room, trying to gather his dignity after being mistaken for an intruder by a six-year-old? You never thought you'd have to introduce Spencer to your brother this way, in his own house, under these chaotic circumstances.

You can feel Matt's eyes boring into you, waiting for an answer. All you can think is how ridiculous this all must look, and how there's no good way to smooth over the fact that, yes, Spencer Reid, his friend slash teammate, is behind the door. And the most absurd part? A part of you is more worried about the look on Matt's face than the fact that he's holding a gun.

“Please don’t be mad.”

You hold your breath as you slowly reach for the doorknob. You push the door open and let out a small, relieved sound when you see Spencer fully dressed, looking almost presentable, except for the wild hair that refuses to settle. He gives you a small nod before stepping out of the room.

“Uncle Spencer?” Jake’s small voice cuts through the tension. Matt’s gaze darts between you two, his jaw tightening as he puts the pieces together. You can see the moment realization hits him full force.

“Reid?” Matt’s voice is incredulous, bordering on betrayed. “What the hell is going on?”

“I can explain,” you say cautiously. “It’s not exactly how it looks.”

“Not exactly how it looks?” Matt echoes, his eyes narrowing at you, then shifting back to Spencer. “You’re in my guest room looking like you just rolled out of bed—”

“Fully clothed now,” Spencer cuts in quickly, which only earns him a frown from Matt.

“Not helping,” you mutter under your breath, shooting Spencer a look before turning back to your brother. “Fine, it’s exactly how it looks like. So… uh, surprise?”

You watch so many emotions flashing in his eyes. Matt’s always been a good brother. Sometimes annoying, but always reliable. He doesn’t usually get angry at you—quite the opposite, actually. He’s calm, level-headed, and more prone to offering advice than raising his voice. But now? The frustration is clear in his eyes.

He’s not mad exactly, but he’s definitely not happy either.

“Surprise?” Matt repeats, his voice flat. His gaze flick back to Spencer, who’s now shifting his weight awkwardly beside you. “This is how you decided to tell me?”

“Okay, it’s not how we planned it, obviously.”

“Clearly,” he deadpans. You put on the best innocent face you can muster.

You put on the best, innocent-looking face you can muster.

“Maaatttt,” you try again, deciding to use a different approach by being cute this time. “Don’t be so harsh.”

To your relief, it actually works on him, like it usually does whenever you try to charm your way out of trouble. His tough exterior falters because, no matter what, you’re still his baby sister. His face softens for a moment, shoulders dropping as he lets out a sigh.

“I’m not mad, okay? But I am your brother. And you,” he adds, pointing at Spencer. “You’re supposed to be my friend. I feel like I should’ve known about this before… well, before finding you like this.” Your shoulders slumps at his words. “How long has this been going?”

Now that is a tricky question. Explaining that you and Spencer occasionally had sex five years ago definitely isn’t something your brother needs to hear right now—or ever, really. You can almost feel Spencer tense beside you, probably having the same thought.

You clear your throat. “Last night.”

"Last night?" Matt looks at you as if you’re crazy. It might be the most disapproving look he’s ever given to you. "You're telling me this just started last night?"

"But—" you quickly add, holding up a hand to stop his train of thought. "We’ve been talking for a while, it’s not like it happened out of nowhere. Last night was just the first time we decided to actually do something about it."

“Right under my roof?” Matt’s brows pinches upward. “You lied about having a headache, didn’t you?”

“Wait, you had a headache? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You’re not sure you can handle two men pestering you at the same time. You focus on your brother instead.

“Look, we didn’t plan anything yesterday. Things just… happened,” you say, trying to explain without making it sound worse than it already does. “But it’s not only about last night. For what it’s worth, we were planning to tell to you. Just not like this.”

Your brother cocks an eyebrow. “So this isn’t a one-time thing?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “God, no,” he says. You feel an arm snake around your waist. “I care about her. A lot.”

Matt stares at Spencer for a long moment, his face a mixture of frustration, concern, and something else. Acceptance, maybe. He looks back at you. “Is this what you want?”

You feel Spencer’s grip tighten on your waist. He’s also waiting for your answer.

“It’s what I want.”

Spencer’s thumb brushes over you as Matt lets out a long breath, his grip on the gun finally relaxing. “This feels weird.”

“In a good way?”

“In a bizarre kind of way.” Matt’s falls falls on Spencer again. “I’m still trying to process this, but if you hurt her—”

“I won’t,” Spencer promises. “I swear.”

“Good, because you know I can put you back to prison if you do.”

Oh, he knows. Spencer understands exactly what he means, after all, Matt was one of the few people who helped clear his name during one of the most horrific moments of his life. Even if there’s a slight jab in his words, Spencer can tell he’s being dead serious. Especially with that gun still attached to his grip.

You, on the other hand, are hearing this for the first time. “Wait, what?” you blurt out. “Prison? You went to prison?”

Spencer merely shrug. Matt finally lowers his weapon, shaking his head as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. “I need coffee,” he mutters, turning toward the kitchen.

“Wait…” Jake finally peeks out from behind the wall. You blink your eyes, forgetting he’s even there. “Does this mean Uncle Spencer is your boyfriend now?”

You feel three pair of eyes on you. Matt’s gaze is sharp. Spencer’s expression is cautious. And then there’s Jake, looking up at you with the straightforward curiosity only a child can have. To him, things are simple. Either you are, or you aren’t, and in hindsight, it really is a straightforward question. But nothing about this situation has been straightforward.

You look at Spencer for a fraction of a second. You can see the nervous hope reflected in his eyes. Maybe Jake’s question isn’t just his… maybe it’s Spencer’s too.

And sure, maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe it really is as simple as saying—

“Yes.” You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. “I suppose he is.”

If you’ve ever seen Spencer being happy, it pales in comparison to this. His eyes light up, and he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. A genuine, almost boyish smile spreads across his face as you feel his warmth seep into your skin. There’s so much affection in his gaze it makes your chest tighten. He’s not just happy. He’s beaming.

Matt clears his throat awkwardly. “Come on, kiddo, let’s grab what your mom needs and get back to the hospital.” He glances back at you. “You guys coming?”

You nod absentmindedly. “Sure.”

He throws you both a look. Not hateful, but definitely not warm either. You see him grip his gun from the corner of your eye, more out of habit than necessity, before steering his son away with a firm hand on his shoulders.

“That went better than expected,” Spencer mutters the moment your brother is out of earshot.

“‘It’s not going to be as bad as you think’,” you mock, reciting the words he said to you half an hour ago.

“It wasn’t.”

“Spencer, he held a gun.”

“He thought I was an intruder. I would’ve done the same thing,” he points out, his tone surprisingly calm as he holds you by your waist. “Relax, okay? He’ll come around us. Eventually.”

“You’re awfully optimistic about this.”

“He likes me.”

He does have a point. Matt has always had a soft spot for Spencer, but you’re not sure how far that can go after what just happened. “I think you might have lost a few brownie points today.”

He considers the truth in your words. “Maybe,” he admits with a shrug. “But at least I earned a few with you.”

“Because of the boyfriend thing?” He’s grinning so wide that his eyes practically disappear into crescent moons. You poke the slightest dimple on his cheek. “Don’t act so smug. I’m still trying to process the fact that I’m dating an ex-felon.”

“I was framed,” he explains, and the way he says it so nonchalantly only deepens your confusion. He tries to smooth your frown with a kiss. “I’ll tell you everything on our first date.”

“Who said I’ll go on a date with you?”

“You will,” he simply says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“And what makes you so sure?”

Because he’s always been sure. The man who doubts everything, who overanalyzes every situation, looks at you with a certainty that makes your heart swell. You’ve seen that look before—the one that says he’s considered every possible outcome and decided this is the one that matters most. There’s something magnetic about it, the way he seems to know exactly what he wants, and right now, it’s you.

“Because I’m your mushroom.”

He’s so silly, yet there’s something so perfectly Spencer about it that makes the idea of not going on a date with him feel impossible. You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, but the warmth in your chest tells you he’s already won your heart.

And you don’t mind him keeping it.

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but her brother was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[luveline]

Can you write where the reader walks into James room and he's crying and its the first time shes seen him cry so she comforts him pls xx

thank you for your request! fem, 1.2k

James’ house is a sanctuary to everyone he’s ever met. There are scratches on the wall by the door where Sirius has thrown it open, long deep welts of ruin under a drunken hand, two best friends laughing to the bedroom where they share a bed. You’re used to Sirius by now, an extension of James you love and make room for, but waking up to the heir of the most noble family in London sleeping off a hangover with his face buried in your boyfriend's shoulder still surprises you. His snores never change. 

Then there’s Remus, the sweetheart, tracking dirt into the living room because he so often forgets he’s wearing shoes, distracted by a book or a thought he shares in half smiles knowing James will listen. 

You’re everywhere. In photos like the rest of them, in your coat on the hook, your clean washing on the stairs, your shoes in the bedroom cupboard. There’s a red smudge of your lipstick on the wall at the top of the stairs where James wiped your bottom lip and then used the wall to hang over you, kissing. He keeps meaning to paint over it, you know. He says the same thing every time you bring it up, a laughing, “I’ll get to it, you thing!” 

You’re used to smiles and sounds here. You aren’t acquainted with this. Sniffles from the bedroom, long, stringing gulps of air and the answering sob. It makes your chest flip. James hasn’t cried in front of you in a year of dating and two years of knowing him. James doesn’t even get pissed off unless it’s for somebody else. Something awful must’ve happened. You rush to find out what. 

In the bedroom, James is just sitting there falling apart. Just, sat on the bed, his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking like an awful jagged up and down, like he’s hurting; the shock of it is in every inch of movement. James is beautiful in everything, skin and hands and dark, dark hair, but he’s hurting now as he drags fingers wet with tears through frizzing curls. He must have heard you coming up but he can’t stop, lifting his chin, an apology twisted in his mouth that he doesn’t say aloud. 

“Lovely, what happened?” you ask, sure you’re gonna fall through the floor. “What happened? What–”

You aren’t giving him time to answer. You need to know. 

“No, it’s alright–”

“It’s not alright,” you say, standing in front of him with stiff arms. “What happened, James?” 

“It’s okay.” He cries a little, sniffs, looking up at you with swimming eyes. “It’s alright, I’m just– it’s just– well, it’s just everything, I suppose, but it’s…” He looks down, his mouth twisting again in an apology you don’t want to take. He shakes himself. 

“James, what’s everything?” 

“Silly stuff.” James takes your hand. Telling, that a boy who’s spent his entire life looking after the people he loves would attempt to comfort you with tears still hot on his cheeks. 

You look down at his long fingers. 

James plays piano. He learned your favourite song for you before he’d ever asked you out, and when he’d played it for you, he’d played so beautifully you felt sick for days, felt sick every time you thought of him, but in the moment he’d laughed at your teary eyes and pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. Lovely girl, he’d said, laughing, I won’t play it again if you’re gonna cry like that.

You figure he must want comfort as he gives it, wrapping your arms around him to steer him toward a soft kiss, his hair like strands of satin under your lips. “Nothing that upsets you like this could ever be silly.” 

He pushes you away. Not without love, but pushing away regardless. He stands in the space you leave and wipes his cheeks with the backs of his hands. It’s nearly like he’s dancing. Just the way his arms move. But then he drops them and turns away from you, your heart plummeting to your stomach. 

“James.” 

“It’s not like that. I was hoping I’d be done before you got home. Should we go out for dinner or something?” 

“James–”

“What?” he asks, smiling, at odds with his sad eyes. “Love, it’s really fine, I’m fine.” Love. You let out a long breath, chest a cold ache slowly warmed by his gaze. There’s care for you in every eyelash, but it still shocks you when he hugs you. “It’s okay. Sorry I scared you.” 

James. “Fucking hell, Jamie, I’m not scared, I want you to tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it for you.”

He chokes on breath. “I’m fine,” he says. He doesn’t believe it himself, a crack running straight through his words. “Sorry,” he says, sickly, kissing the top of your head as you’d kissed his. 

Clearly he’s not going to let you be the one domineering the situation, but that’s okay. He can kiss your head and hold you on the edge of too tight. You slip a hand under the edge of his T-shirt to stroke his back, until your hand is numb to it, and he’s sagging against you heavily. 

“You’re really not fine, I can see that much.” 

He’s quiet, but you can tell there’s something he wants to say. 

“But that’s okay,” you say, hand clasping his back . You pat a steady rhythm there as he sighs. “It really is. I don’t know why you think you have to be finished crying before I get home, but that’s not true. You can cry. You can cry buckets. Please don’t pretend you’re not upset because of me, I’d feel so bad.”

Something hot and wet touches your forehead. “M’sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for.” You pull back to pat his cheek. 

James stares at you. Tears well in usually warm eyes and get caught in the wet hedge of his lashes. You try to wipe them away before they can fall —you don’t wanna see your sweetheart crying. 

“Don’t frown,” he says softly. 

“I’m trying not to. Here, let me,” —you wipe his cheeks with your sleeve, voice a muttering thing as his skin pinks beneath your touch— “just get that there for you. Your eyes are red, Jamie, I hope you haven’t been upset for too long.” 

“No, uh. No, not too long.” 

“Can you please tell me what’s wrong? I’d like to know.” 

James’ face presses to your neck in seconds. He pauses, and then he sobs. That’s more like it. You stand there in the bedroom until your legs are stiff, and then you only move to lay him down in bed to be your little spoon. “It's not fine,” you say, your arm around him, the other playing in the swirl of his parting, “but it will be. You’re really too handsome for all these tears.”

“You think I’m handsome?”

He sounds sweet when he’s trying to make you laugh. You reach over him to kiss his hot cheek.  

[five-bi-five-mind]

PLEASE MAKE SUGAR MOMMY!WANDA. It can be when she already left Westview and is now living a lonely life alone missing her children. Then there goes new neighbor R who just left home and is struggling financially OMG!

I loved every single one of your Wanda fics and I'll never shut up about it 👀

Everything Again

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff & fem!Reader

Genre: Smut & Dark-ish fic

Words: 8K+

Summary: Wanda has nothing in her life that brings her joy once she let go of Westview, but then she meets you. She makes sure to be everything you want and need, and you’re all she needs… for a while. But what happens when some of her wants from Westview come creeping back? Can Wanda suppress it or will she do whatever it takes to have everything she wants again?

Warnings: light stalking, not the healthiest relationship, Wanda is controlling, toxic!Wanda, mind manipulation, top!Wanda, bottom!R, rough sex, magic strap-on, slight breeding kink, degradation, magic restraints, light choking, slight dubcon, maybe possibly unknown risk of pregnancy but no actual pregnancy.

A/N: I hate this title but I couldn't think of a better one... Anyways I kinda took a dark turn with this request that's my bad. Enjoy folks!

When Wanda saw you, she knew she had to have you. It was like the stars aligned all of a sudden and a splash of color came into her bleak world for once since leaving Westview. She’d been wandering all over since that… incident. All she felt for months was this horrible, nagging, hollowness and she had no idea how to solve it. Part of her wondered if she filled this void with something to at least stave off the boredom, maybe it would be better. But so far, her only method of occupying her time was figuring out the scope of her power. And every time she dabbled with that it just felt like the hole inside her ripped open even deeper. 

She had made her way to a small college town when she bumped into you. Or, more accurately, when you smacked into her, your eyes glued to your phone at the time. When your body collided with Wanda’s she felt anger bubble inside her for a moment and that familiar tingle at her fingertips as she decided how she might act in response to your inconsideration.  But when your panicked eyes looked up at hers, suddenly it was like the fuse inside her was doused with ice cold water. 

Wanda couldn’t help but smirk at your immediate apologetic response once you realized you were now fully pressed against an utter stranger. At the time, you were so panicked over the email you had just received that you forgot to look up. But when you felt strong hands bracing your elbows as you hit another person’s body like hitting a brick wall, it brought you crashing into reality. The guilt and embarrassment you felt were burning on your cheeks, but the eyes that met yours were only angry for a brief moment. After yours locked with hers they shifted from anger to surprise and then, curiously enough for the both of you, to intrigue. 

“I– I am so sorry,” you sputtered as you attempted to take a step back. Key word there was attempted. To your confusion, the woman in front of you didn’t seem to want to let go. 

It surprised Wanda too, but not in a bad way. The moment she heard your voice things lit up even more. That splash of color turned into a sea and she didn’t want to let go just yet. Her hands wrapped tighter around your elbows and for a moment she didn’t even care that it could possibly startle you. She just knew that for some odd reason, having you, this wide-eyed, terrified random girl she bumped into on the street, was bringing part of her back to life in a way. 

“Are you okay?” Wanda still didn’t let go. If anything, she pulled you ever so slightly closer as she swore she could feel your heartbeat like crazy against her own chest.  

“Oh, um, yes.” You again attempted to take a step back. “Thank you, um…”

“Wanda,” she replied and finally dropped her hold on you. It didn’t go unseen– the disappointed frown she had for a moment as you took a wide step back. 

“Wanda,” you echoed. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve watched where I was going. Are you alright?” Your head tilted and your eyebrows scrunched as you asked her that and Wanda was taken aback for a moment that you even thought to ask. It had been so long since she was asked anything if she were being honest.

“What made you so distracted?” Wanda ignored your question and chose to ask one of her own. She didn’t even know you, but she realized she suddenly wanted to learn everything about you, starting with what had you so wrapped up in a tiny screen that you ran straight into another human being. 

“Oh…” Your eyes dropped to the ground and Wanda took note of the way you shuffled nervously in front of her. “Um, nothing just– It wasn’t something that should’ve distracted me like that. I’m sorry for running into you.” You were trying to go at this point. The way this stranger was looking at you had you anxious and you had no idea why. The fact that she was also asking you this rather than just going on her own way also made you feel self-conscious and scrutinized by the woman before you. 

Wanda just blinked back at you, the frown on her face showing yet again for a moment. Your eyes searched hers and the confusion in them grew. Did this total stranger really want to know your business? If you were to say it out loud to her, surely you would seem pathetic. But she still stood, waiting for you to answer what was so important that you completely missed the person standing still as you walked right into her.

“Okay,” you sighed, “I got an email about my funding. I’m a– Or I guess was a student here. My funding got pulled. No funding means no grad school… So I have to figure that out, I guess.” 

There was a moment of silence as Wanda just stared down at you. Her facial expression was impossible to read for a moment. It was pensive, almost neutral and you waited for any sort of response to her. 

“I’ll figure it out,” you continued for whatever reason. Trying to fill the silence as Wanda just kept staring. “There’s other programs, other schools. I can apply again.”

“I’m sure it will all work out,” Wanda finally said. She put her hand on your shoulder for a moment, trailing it over you as she finally began to walk past you. When her hand left you and she went her own way, you just stood there stunned. 

You thought that encounter with her would plague your mind for days, but as if a switch had flipped suddenly that strangeness that was filling your mind faded into nothing.

—---------------------------------

That encounter may have left you utterly confused, but to Wanda it made things so clear. She finally had a plan, something to do. She was wandering aimlessly since Westview with nothing to fill the time. She had said she would find her children again in some dimension, somewhere, but for she had no real leads. She was losing hope, she was spiraling– That is until you bumped into her.

The gears in Wanda’s mind began to turn the minute you confessed to why you were so distracted that fateful day. And ever since then, she was going to put a plan into motion. First, she had to learn just a little bit more about you. But it wouldn’t do if you suddenly left the place she had found you in, so she tweaked some things. Starting with an anonymous donation to your department (of which she found quite quickly from just a few days of watching you) so that they might be able to fund their graduate students– Specifically you– and that you might be able to stay and continue your research and studies while she worked on a way to draw you closer to her. 

After a few weeks of watching you, she quickly learned that despite her donation, they didn’t give you enough funding to comfortably live on. You ran from job to job when you weren’t on campus studying and Wanda quickly decided, if you were to be her new fixation, then having multiple jobs would not do. You had her undivided attention, so now she wanted the majority of yours. She decided you could have your studies, but the rest of you… The rest of you she was going to make hers. 

It only took her a few more weeks after watching you carefully to approach you again. One thing about her new powers was that, rather than captivating a whole town like she did with Westview, she could easily– and with a lot less catastrophic damage– erase a small part of people’s memories. Namely, their memory that Wanda even existed in the first place. It wasn’t possible for the whole world to forget her, but a small college town she definitely could handle. Just another reason to keep you inside this town and not let you wander much further. With her handle on this new aspect of her own power, she took it one step further with you, erasing the very first day you two met. That day would always replay in Wanda’s mind, but she knew it confused and frightened you and she needed to paint herself in the best light possible when she finally approached you face-to-face again.

It was quite easy to approach you this time too. She posed as a professor in your own university. She twisted and turned the minds of the university until it was as if she had been there a long time. An established part of a university department outside of your own. She knew your schedule too, so she knew that you would always sit at the corner of the university coffee shop for about an hour in between classes. That’s where she finally approached you– or, to be more accurate, she made you approach her.

She almost felt bad about it, but at the same time she knew it would be her way in. She knew your eyes would be buried in a book as you walked to your usual spot and she used that moment to use an invisible force to trip you. And, like the knight in shining armor she wanted to appear to you as, she swooped in front of you and caught you skillfully. 

The first look you gave her was back on your face this time too. The panic and embarrassment that burned in your cheeks as you looked up at your savior was evident on your face. Wanda gave you the best, charming smile she could muster, but if you were being honest it made you feel almost as if you were a fly that landed right in a spider’s web. 

“Are you okay?” Wanda said the same line to you and you nodded, immediately trying to apologize like last time. 

Wanda knew by now that this was your personality. You were shy and anxious, but also patient and kind. All the things that were the opposite of how she considered herself and all the things that had her captivated by you. 

“Yeah, I– I’m good,” you again tried to step back and this time Wanda let you. “I’m so sorry! Thank you for catching me. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Wanda chuckled as her hands fell to her sides. “What are you reading? Must be interesting.” The crooked smile she gave you was what finally drew you in. It was charming and warm and the way her eyes sparkled had you wanting to see more. When Wanda took in the wide, curious eyes looking back at her she knew she had you. 

And that was really all it took for her to wrap you up in her web and never let you go.

—------------------------------------------------

In the following months things happened rather quickly. After the day you had officially met Wanda, you saw her way more often. She would always sit near you at the coffee shop, or bump into you on other parts of campus, until finally you two established a date. And from that date things happened even quicker. It was like you blinked and suddenly your whole life was wrapped up in Wanda’s. You quickly said goodbye to your rundown, tiny apartment and moved into Wanda’s extravagant house right outside of town. Instead of taking the city bus to and from campus, she was driving you whenever and wherever you needed to go. There was now a lot more free time in your life to focus on both your studies and this new relationship you found yourself in with Wanda, as she had insisted you quit your job. That she would take care of every single one of your wants and needs. And how could you say no to that? Although, it was all a little too fast for your comfort, if you were being honest, but at the same time it was Wanda… You couldn’t picture your life without her from the very moment you met her and she made it clear that she intended for you to never find out what it would be like without her in it. 

She took care of you, she took care of everything. You needed only to focus on two things: her and school. Wanda loved the passion you had for studying, so she let you keep one thing outside of her. But she was still near, even if you weren’t aware. She was always near. 

But as months stretched on and her attachment to you became even stronger, things shifted a bit. She was feeling… anxious. The life she had back in Westview began to pop up in her mind again and she felt that hole inside her chest once more– The one that you had filled when she first saw you. There was only one part of her Westview life that kept running through her mind though. It wasn’t Vision. No, it was never Vision. Not when she had you. You were a brighter light in her life than Vision ever had been. A deeper love that felt soft and gentle, even if she had orchestrated a lot of events in order to make the two of you happen. 

Vision wasn’t what kept her up lately. It was her boys. There were dreams of them, flashes of them in her daily life. It was almost as if the more she loved you, the more she missed them. You had healed this wound, but in the nights that you wrapped your arms around her and fell asleep, she felt that familiar tug she had in Westview– the one that longed for a family. A life of peace and completeness. That made the wound feel fresh again. 

So Wanda began to withdraw. She wasn’t going to let you go, but for now, as she contemplated these feelings and how to fix them, she needed time and distance. Each time you smiled at her, each time you kissed her, that tug in the pit of her stomach felt stronger and stronger. The longing grew– The thought of recreating a Westview with you was tempting. But she knew how well that worked out last time. 

Late at night when this longing grew particularly strong, Wanda would sneak away when you were fast asleep to contemplate her options. She had hoped that you wouldn’t notice her withdrawal, but when your whole world was Wanda… How could you not? 

As these days of dealing with a withdrawn Wanda stretched on, you were getting restless. Something was clearly bothering Wanda and it was causing a rise of anxiety in you. At first you tried to approach it gently, but Wanda iced you out. The problem grew and Wanda warned you not to poke at it, but you couldn’t just leave it be. 

With your life being filled with Wanda now– Her withdrawing left you painfully lonely. So you began pushing unspoken limits Wanda set for you. Fights started and time and time again Wanda would shut you down. 

The more she did so, the more it felt she was putting you on the shelf. Like you were her little play thing and she was bored of you. There was an ache in you that you didn’t quite understand and the more confusion she left you with the closer you were to being utterly done. How you could even live without Wanda, you weren’t sure, but you were almost a little tempted to figure it out. 

There was no way you could ever leave Wanda, though. You didn’t want to, even if she was withdrawn, you still loved her deeply. But you wanted attention, acknowledgement, anything. 

Unfortunately for you, the only way you knew how to get that was to push her buttons more and more each day. 

You had no idea what was going through Wanda’s mind, but she had been particularly aggravated lately. What you didn’t know was that Wanda was stuck in trying to find the solution to the feelings that were plaguing her. She had played with an idea, but knew that in order to do so she would out her true nature and risk the memories she took from you to come flooding back. What would you do then, if you remembered who Wanda was? Her name was all over the news and the whole world knew she had fallen far from where she was when she helped the avengers. That was so long ago to Wanda. It was a different time, a different her. One that didn’t know her potential and didn’t know her own heart until she finally found all the pieces. 

The problem was, she’s never had all those pieces all at the same time. She wanted you and her boys. She wanted the picture perfect family that she had in Westview, but she wanted it with you this time. She wanted you as her little housewife and mother of her twins. In the past week she had been engrossed in ways to make that happen. She had a theory that if she tried to create her children again it would be the same children she once had. All she needed was to share her DNA in some way with you and a little bit of magic to add to that. Then, all would be right in her eyes if she had them in this way. For whatever reason, she felt that that was the true way the universe was meant to be. If she built this family with you, then it would never be taken from her ever again. The tricky part was actually creating them with you in a way that didn’t have you questioning how it was even scientifically possible. That would have you questioning a lot about who she is and what she could do. And she didn’t want to ruin what she established with you just yet. Even if the more you pushed at her the more she was tempted to say let go of her control.

She knew you were getting fed up with it too and the more you pushed her the more she contemplated letting her resolve slip. She tried her best to keep you at arms length while she tried to figure out her predicament. But she was feeling stuck with no alternative other than to reveal herself and what she could do. She kept going in circles to feel less stuck, but the more stuck she felt with this problem the angrier she was. And unfortunately, the angrier she was the easier it was for you to push her buttons. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, it only took one final push for her to actually snap. When you thought of Wanda breaking, you thought it would mean she would be forced to talk to you. Never did you expect the outcome of your plans that night. 

Your classmates had invited you out for drinks and, since you met Wanda, your answer was usually no. But tonight things were different. Wanda was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t pick you on campus. She was kind enough to warn you to take an Uber and she would pay, but you were still angry about it. So when you were invited out, you said yes. 

Saying anything other than no would’ve already irritated Wanda. Even a maybe. She didn’t like the idea of you going out to bars, especially without her. Usually if you wanted to do something with anyone else you’d at least ask her and she would be nearby to make sure you were safe and no one was tempted to take advantage of the time she was allowing them to have alone with you. But this time, you weren’t even going to ask. You were just going to go. Something you hadn’t done since before Wanda.

You knew what you were doing. It was all entirely intentional. Right down to the outfit you picked and the way you walked past Wanda, making just enough noise to get some of her attention. Even if she didn’t look up at you.

“Where are you going?” Wanda asked as she flipped a page of a strange book she was reading.

“Out,” you muttered. Even if Wanda wasn’t looking at you, you wanted your tone to register that you were rolling your eyes at her. The fact that she didn’t even look up just pissed you off even more. 

“I’m not planning to leave the house tonight.” She still wasn’t looking at you and that just made your hands ball into fists as you got more and more offended by her lack of attention. 

“I know,” you scoffed. “I don’t have to go everywhere with you.”

Suddenly, an eerie silence filled the room. You watched Wanda’s face as she kept her eyes glued to the book she was reading. There was a slight change in it, a tightening of her jaw, but she still didn’t look at you. 

“You know that’s not how this works,” Wanda’s response was calm, but you could tell you were starting to get to her. Never had you been defiant to her. She gave you everything you wanted and you did whatever she asked. There was an unspoken rule to go where Wanda goes, be where she wants you and an even deeper unspoken rule to not question or defy any of the other arrangements you two have made. But tonight, as you watched her jaw clench and unclench and realized you were getting under her skin, you decided to push more. 

“So?” You shrugged and that silent uncomfortable feeling in the room felt like it intensified the very second you uttered that one word. “I don’t see the harm in going out just for one night on my own.”

Wanda’s eyes slowly slid from her book to your face the moment you uttered the phrase on your own. That definitely wasn’t something you should’ve said to her. There was an understanding that anything you did “on your own” was something that Wanda would be nearby for. What you were asking for was a night completely away from Wanda, and it was breaking the biggest unspoken rule she had for you. This was new waters you were treading, but you were so sick of her lack of interest that you didn’t care. Any attention from her was a change from whatever was happening now. 

“You’re not going,” she ordered as she snapped her book shut and stood up. 

You just snorted at that, anger boiling in your blood as you stood your ground. “Why not? You seem preoccupied with just about anything other than me. What’s the harm?”

She was right in front of you now, her jaw was clenching and unclenching like it had before, but this time you looked down for a brief second and noticed her fists were doing the same. Still, though, you wanted to keep pushing. 

“With you dressed like that,” Wanda warned, “I think you know exactly what harm it could do.” You knew what you were doing when you got dressed. A tight, cropped shirt and even tighter short shorts to match. It was something meant to catch the eye of others and definitely something you knew would get an extra rise out of Wanda to add to that. What you didn’t know was what exactly Wanda meant. She was already picturing in her mind the droves of people who would come trying to pick you up at whatever trashy bar you decided to go to. And when she pictured people trying to touch what was hers, she also pictured all the ways in which she could make them suffer so much as daring to think they could have you. 

You were playing with fire and on some level you knew that, but something in you couldn’t stop pushing her buttons. Even if you didn’t know what exactly you were getting into, even if you didn’t know to the full extent how possessive Wanda could be of you and how much of a monster she was capable of being when provoked. 

“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.” You shrugged again and Wanda’s eye twitched as you kept challenging her resolve. “At least someone will appreciate it.”

If you thought the tension was bad when Wanda stood up, now it was suffocating you. Wanda just stared back at you, her eyes burning with anger. In fact, she looked so angry you swore you saw a red flash in her eyes.  For a moment, you kind of just stood there, waiting for Wanda to respond, but on her part she was trying to calm the possessive rage that you just caused to boil over inside of her. 

Part of her wanted to force you to your knees and have you beg forgiveness for defying her like this. You hadn’t even done anything yet, but just the idea and threat of disobeying her wishes had her furious. She was so close to figuring out how to have everything she wanted and now of all times you were trying to defy her? Trying to let a pathetic stranger swoop in on you at some dive bar when you know you’re hers? No, this was unacceptable to her. Never have you done anything other than be good for her. The way you so easily obeyed her is a small part of what drew her to you in the first place. And she did realize she had been neglectful, but couldn’t you see it was for your own good? For the good of the family Wanda was trying to rebuild with you? The more she had you the more she wanted. She had you completely already, that was true, but she wanted you in a way she wasn’t sure you were ready for. In a way that would show you exactly who Wanda really was. 

So in order to find a solution to the raging beast inside of her that wanted to claim you and have her family back, she thought it was best to withdraw.Clearly she over calculated and now here she was. But as you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, daring her with your eyes to do something, suddenly that’s when all her control just snapped. You felt the shift too, even if you didn’t understand it. It was like the calm before the storm. Wanda took a sharp, deep breath through her nose before exhaling and taking a step into your personal space. 

“Okay,” Wanda growled. “That’s about enough.” In a blink of the eye you were thrown over her shoulder. The way you yelped as you felt yourself hoisted off the ground echoed through the room. You knew Wanda was strong, but you didn’t know she was that strong. She had you thrown over her shoulder like it was nothing. Your hands grasped at her shirt, terrified she would drop you at any moment, but it was as if she had no struggle at all. 

“Wanda, what the fuck?” You cried as she walked towards the bedroom. With a grunt, you landed hard on the mattress. You couldn’t even begin to sit up before she was already on the bed with her legs on either side of your waist, essentially pinning you down onto the bed with her body.

“Language,” she hissed as she started to pull her own shirt off before immediately reaching for yours. 

“How did you- What- When did you get so strong?” You couldn’t collect your thoughts. They were scrambled up by the display of sheer strength and also maybe a little bit by the fact that Wanda was sitting on top of you without a shirt. 

“You wanted attention and now you’re questioning how I give it to you?” Wanda’s voice was dripping with irritation as she began to yank both your own shirt and bra off of you. 

“I– No, but…” You were now naked from the waist up beneath Wanda. Her eyebrow arched as you struggled to find your words. You definitely knew your little stunt would piss her off, but you didn’t expect this outcome. 

“Now tell me,” Wanda’s nails began dragging down your chest as she spoke, “why would you want anyone else’s attention, when I’m all that you need?” Her nails dug down a little harder as they reached your stomach and you hissed at the slight sting of the red marks they left behind.

“Tell me,” Wanda ordered again as her hands made their way back up to your chest. “I give you everything you could possibly want.” The way she was palming at them was rough, but still it had you squirming underneath her. “So why,” she took your nipples between her fingers and pinched just a little harder than she usually would, causing a slight pain as she spoke, “would you ever think about anyone else?”

You winced as she palmed at you even harder, but you couldn’t help the flood of shame at the arousal it sent straight to your core. The way she was handling you, like an object— like something to be owned— was new. Sure she could be intense when she touched you, but she was never intentionally rough like she was being right now. She never purposely caused any kind of pain, even if right now it was mild and (to your surprise) enjoyable. 

“It– it wasn’t like that!” You were stumbling over your words as you began to feel Wanda grind down into you. It wasn’t slight or subtle, the way she was moving her hips. She was pressing your body harder into the mattress as she dragged herself against you from where she was straddling your waist. 

“Hm, then what was it like?” Wanda’s tone was degrading. She was practically seething on top of you as she spoke. “Because to me it sounded like my little toy wanted someone else to play with her?” 

“I–” You couldn’t stop the wince at her harsh words. She had called you that before, but still there was a loving inflection in her voice when she did in the past. This tone she had now, the way she said, it was filled with nothing but rage. “Wanda, I don’t want anyone else. No– No, I… I just wanted you to-“ 

“Oh look at that,” Wanda interrupted, her tone utterly condescending. “Now you’re trying to cover your tracks.” You watched curiously as one of Wanda’s hands left your body. “I thought you understood when we started that you’re mine. I can’t have a single ounce of doubt in your mind about that fact. Now I need to remind you of who you belong to. Who owns you.” She hissed that word and your eyes widened as you watched her fingers twist and twirl in the air, a red glow following them as they moved. In a blink the rest of your clothes just vanished. Your eyes widened for a moment as you stared up at Wanda. But then, in another flash of red you felt your hands fly up and pin themselves above your head. No matter the struggle, you felt a constant, unwavering invisible force hold your wrists in place. 

“Wanda, what— how did you do that?” Your eyes shifted from above you, then to her fingers and finally to her face. Now you definitely noticed the matching red swirl in her irises. 

“I think it’s time I properly taught you just how important it is for you to be good, so that we can have everything we want.” If she heard your question she was clearly ignoring it. Your mind was racing trying to keep up with what was going on top of you. Her words definitely confused you too, but you didn’t get the chance to question them again. 

Wanda looked down for a moment and saw the look in your eyes before rolling her own and pressing her glowing fingers to your temple. In a split second you suddenly realized exactly who she was. Your heart raced and you gulped, but oddly you weren’t as terrified as you were just shocked. 

The Wanda Maximoff was on top of you telling you that you belonged to her. You should be running and screaming for help, or at least attempting to. All the news headlines and stories flooded your memory and you knew exactly how they painted her. She could end you in a second; you should be afraid. But for some reason, you weren’t. Instead, seeing this powerful woman on top of you and thinking back to all the times she told you she loved you, that she would take care of you, that she wanted only you. Knowing the truth, it stunned you, but not in a bad way. 

“Are you scared?” Wanda’s tone was still the same, taunting and demeaning as it was before. Only this time, you saw a little beyond that. There was a seriousness there. A curiosity of what your reaction was. Wanda thought if you reacted badly she could just go back to how it was. Wipe your mind of her existence entirely yet again, restart with you, and enjoy the dynamic you two had again. Was it a healthy plan? No. She would have to start from scratch again. Get you to fall for her once more. But Wanda’s obsession with you has gone far beyond the point of return. She would do what was necessary.

As if to purposely test your limits, Wanda reached for your throat, pressing ever so slightly. “Are you?” She repeated as she leaned down to look you in the eye.

You swallowed hard for a second, already feeling the slight strain on your throat as you did. “No,” you breathed out lowly. You weren’t at all. You realized all you wanted was her attention and finally she was giving it to you. Was this secret that kept her so withdrawn lately? “No, Wanda, I’m not.” 

You were nervous, but you weren’t scared. No matter what Wanda was before, no matter what she has become now, you were hers from the moment you crashed into her. A memory that was returned to you. If she hadn’t wiped that one, you would’ve still been drawn to her and fallen for her just as hard as you did when she was posing as a professor. 

Wanda knew your acceptance was true and took your answer for what it was. This moment right now opened so many doors for her. The void she had been feeling, it could finally be fixed in the way she wanted to fix it. Things in her life were falling into place. As Wanda sat atop of you she finally— for the first time in her entire existence —felt like she was winning. Not once did she ever feel so powerful until this very moment.

“Now that you know the truth…” Wanda trailed off in a low voice. She was thinking aloud more than she was talking to you. Her eyes stayed locked with yours but you could tell she was pondering something. When you saw the now familiar swirl of red in her eyes you began to question what Wanda has in store for you. 

“Do you love me?” Wanda now spoke directly to you. Her eyes were still glowing red as her hand finally relaxed against your throat.

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly. Wanda’s face melted at your admission. The harsh, contemplative look she was wearing shifted into a soft smile finally. It was perhaps the first time in weeks she gave you a glimpse of her softness and you reveled in it. 

But after just a split second it was replaced with a bigger smile, one that gave you that feeling of being prey caught in a trap again. It was a feeling you weren’t unfamiliar with. And, if you were being honest, you enjoyed the thrill you got from seeing it. “We’re going to try something,” Wanda purred as she sat back up, but remained on top of you. “Something that we’ll both thoroughly enjoy.” 

You looked at her with curious eyes, squirming underneath her only slightly as she shifted and began to move between your legs. 

“It will give us both what we’ve been wanting,” Wanda continued as she now knelt between your legs, holding them open for her as she spoke. Her eyes raked down your body, from your flushed cheeks all the way down to the wetness that dripped from your thighs. She couldn’t help the satisfied hum at the sight, thinking this might be a lot easier of a task than she thought it would be. 

With another swirl of red in her eyes and a matching red shimmer around her twirling fingers, you followed her eyes down as the rest of her clothes disappeared and something materialized. Wanda’s smile grew as something you couldn’t fully see appeared between her legs.

You strained your neck up as best you could from the pillow, but with your arms still pinned above your head it was difficult. You caught what looked like shimmering, deep red straps resting around her waist and could only imagine what those led to. 

When Wanda leaned forward and you felt a cool, silicon tip pushing between your folds, your suspicions were confirmed. The contact made the both of you shiver, and as you felt Wanda run the toy slowly from your entrance to your clit and back down, you could see her taking sharp, deep breaths.

“This is going to be… incredible,” Wanda practically hissed. “I’ll be able to feel everything, to feel every part of you when I make you cum.”

Wanda hadn’t even begun fucking you and the idea of it turned you on so much you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped from your lips in a response. 

“And then,” Wanda lined the tip up as she spoke, “I’m going to fill you with my cum and hopefully it will work.” With that she pushed forward and you both took a sharp breath at the feeling. 

Wanda eased in as slowly as she could while fighting her every instinct to just ram into you and fuck you until she felt you fall apart. But she knew that at least for the start of this, she should go slow. This was, after all, the first time she’s fucked you using her magic. It was the first time she’s fucked you using something this big too. For all she knew, you’ve only ever had experience with her fingers. She didn’t want to break you— not completely. But as her cock sank into you inch by inch she was beginning to slip.

“God this feels better than I imagined,” Wanda hissed as she bottomed out inside you. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?” 

Your teeth were digging into your lip as you tried to stop yourself from crying out from the sheer feeling of being so full. To have Wanda fill your pussy in a way she never has before, it was taking all your willpower not to turn into a moaning, whining mess before she even really began to fuck you.

Wanda’s hips were currently completely pressed between your legs and you were taking her so surprisingly well. You were tight, but the way you squeezed Wanda’s magic strap was delicious. There was a pause for a moment— just a brief second for you to adjust to the size of her toy. But it was all she could manage to give you. The sensation of actually feeling you in this way had her head swimming and she needed more. 

She pulled the toy out slowly, so much so that only the tip stayed inside you. Her chest was already heaving as she looked down at you. The way her eyes were filled with hunger made you shiver as you looked back up at her, restrained, helpless, and thirsty for more. Your legs spread open for her even more without her prompting you and she groaned at the sight before her. Your wetness smeared on the parts of the toy that she could see, your arms still pinned over your head. It was all too much. She couldn’t help what she did next. Her hips snapped suddenly and her cock pushed deep into you. 

The cry you let out echoed through the room and Wanda swore she’s never heard a prettier sound. Her hips pulled back again until just the tip was left in you. Again she snapped them forward hard, making your eyes screw shut as you cried her name. 

“Fuck, if I knew it would feel like this…” Wanda groaned as she began to pump inside you at a brutal pace. Her hands were on your thighs, nails digging into your skin as she kept your legs spread open. Your hands were balled into fists above your head as she fucked you. You couldn’t stop the moans and cries that fell from your lips even if you wanted to. 

As Wanda kept fucking you, she fell forward, her entire body pressed against yours, as her lips captured your own. You whimpered into the kiss as her tongue filled your mouth much in the same aggressive way as the way she was currently fucking the toy into you. 

Wanda’s hands still had a hold of your thighs as she hoisted your legs over her waist, giving her a better angle to fuck the toy into you. You struggled to keep up with the way Wanda was licking into your mouth and biting at your lips. Her cock was hitting a spot inside of you, you didn’t even know would feel as good as it did. Your knuckles were turning white as your whole body began to shake from the sheer pleasure she was giving you. Even though you felt as if your whole body was on the brink of exploding, Wanda just kept going.

When Wanda began to moan more and more against your own mouth, you knew neither of you would last much longer. Wanda couldn’t keep kissing you anymore, and instead buried her head in the nape of your neck as she hoisted your legs higher onto her hips and fucked you even deeper. Your eyes had rolled back and cries of Wanda’s name fell from your lips nonstop as she picked up her pace.

“I can feel how close you are,” Wanda groaned as she pumped particularly harder into you. “But you’re going to wait. I want you to cum when I do.”

All you could do was whine in response as the sensation of her fucking you made it impossible for you to let out any coherent words. 

“You’re going to look so pretty,” she moaned against your neck, “filled up with my cum… and even prettier after.” Wanda’s movements were becoming erratic as she spoke. The words hardly registered to you as she kept fucking you harder and faster. 

“You wanna cum, baby?” Wanda purred in your ear. You nodded desperately, your whole body trembling as you continued to take her. Her teeth grazed against the most sensitive part of your neck as she felt you nod and she could feel her own body tremble from how close she was. “Then come with me,” she ordered. Her hips pumped harder into you and after a moment you felt a sudden warm rush of fluids inside you. The sound of moans filled the air even louder than before and you weren’t sure if they were coming from you or her. 

The moment you felt her cum inside you, you followed after. Your body arched off the bed and you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Wanda’s forehead was pressed to your bare chest as she came. The way your pussy tightened around her magic cock was intoxicating. Neither of you had felt so good in your entire lives and Wanda made a mental note to fuck you like this often. 

When she felt your body finally collapse against the mattress she did the same against you. You realized quickly that your wrists no longer felt restrained, but you kept them above your head either way. Too exhausted to even lift them yet. 

“That was…” you couldn’t find the words. You had never felt so amazing on so many different levels than you did tonight. Your body felt spent and sensitive, but all you wanted was more. More of that, more of Wanda, more of everything she had to offer now that you knew who Wanda was. 

“Yeah,” Wanda didn’t need to hear you finish your sentence to know she was feeling the same way you were. Her head rested on your chest, listening to your heartbeat begin to slow as you came down from the high Wanda gave you. 

“Can we… do it like that more?” Your face was flushed as you asked. 

Wanda lifted her head and gave you a beaming smile. To anyone else it would be dazzling, but curiously, to you it gave you that feeling again— the one where you were nothing but a sheep caught in a wolf’s clutches. 

“Of course we can, baby,” Wanda purred as she looked up at you. “As many times as it takes.” 

The word choice was odd. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the woman on your chest. Her eyes were dark as she looked back up at you and something about the way her fingers traced up and down your stomach made you shudder. 

“As many times as it takes?” You echoed Wanda’s words back to her as a question, but she just gave a small hum of agreement as she placed a few kisses on your skin. 

“Until I have everything that I want again.” Her voice was low suddenly, almost threatening. You looked down at her eyes and saw how they darkened as she continued to trace her fingers against your body. “And nobody will take it from me again.”

Her words felt like a threat to an invisible entity. You knew it wasn’t directed towards you, you had no idea the source. But you knew she was serious, even if you didn’t quite understand why. Her words felt as much as a threat to someone as they did a direct promise to you. 

As Wanda laid on your chest and recovered some of her strength she thought about how she was one step closer. She could have her perfect family; her happiness. She didn’t need to control a whole town, she didn’t even necessarily need to control you. Once you did understand, she knew you would be accepting. Shocked, maybe, but ultimately accepting and even happy to build the dream Wanda had. She would have her boys, she would recreate them again with you. And then it would be the four of you, forever. 

For your part, you didn’t know what Wanda meant exactly. It wouldn’t be until later that evening, when Wanda decided you recovered enough to go again, that you put the pieces together and realized exactly how magic Wanda’s new toy was. She was right in her assumption of your reaction, shocked but accepting. Just like the good girl she knew you would be. Whatever Wanda wanted, you decided you would give it to her, knowing she would do the same. Wanda was one step closer to her happiness and it finally felt as if she was building it on solid foundations. There would be no one to take you from her, no one to stop her from building a life again with you. And there was a silent, chilling understanding between the two of you that if anyone were to ever threaten her happiness again… they would not get very far.

Taglist: @geekyandgay98 @desperate-gay @high--power @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @natashamaximoff69 @natashasilverfox @lovelyy-moonlight @jareguiromanoff @dj-bynum3718 @noahrex @simpforlizzie @taivantaylor @mrsmothermaximoff @storiesofsvu

Join the taglist here

[maxverstappendefender]

ain't no love in oklahoma // op81 smau

description: twisters actress!reader x op81 but lando is convinced oscar is lying (from request)

a/n: sorry for being completely inactive. life happened and it didn't happen in a good way! i have a huge exam coming up soon so i will most likely still be inactive besides maybe a few short things here and there. anyways first oscar fic so enjoy! all pics found on pinterest, i don't own any

a/n pt2: might do something fun for each day in october but im not sure what so send me some ideas. also might do some more headcannons/blurbs soon here!

requests: closed but feel free to send me some messages since i love talking to you guys

masterlist

liked by oscarpiastri, glenpowell, and 2,927,641 others

youruser: go see twisters!! if you don’t, you suck and you better hope you don’t get stuck in a tornado because there’s useful information in our movie

tagged: glenpowell

view all comments

oscarpiastri: proud of you!!

↳ youruser: 🧡

glenpowell: caption is so real of you

user1: doesn’t yn have a boyfriend? why is she so close to glen?

↳ user2: yes but probably because there’s limited space. yn isn’t like that

↳ oscarpiastri: exactly what user2 said

landonorris: cute!

↳ user3: what are you doing here??

↳ user4: lando in the comments?

user5: such a good movie

user6: yn + glen = power duo

liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,951,750 others

oscarpiastri: proud boyfriend award goes to me 🏆 thx for all the bts selfies

tagged: youruser, glenpowell

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landonorris: i just laughed out loud

landonorris: “boyfriend” lmaooo

↳ user7: i cant tell if he’s joking or serious

user8: cutest couple ever

glenpowell: aww so glad you remembered the time you took me to the aquarium, what a romantic!

↳ youruser: get your own boyfriend capybara

↳ user9: yn CLOCKED him

// lando’s phone//

//

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 4,027,835 others

landonorris: POLE BABYYYY!!! everyone ignore my teammates instagram posts, i have told him to stop. i think he took a hit to the head or something

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oscarpiastri: do you want to go to the farm or not?

↳ landonorris: you already said i could go so no take backs

↳ user10: lando is going to yn's farm??

↳ user11: LANDO'S MEETING YN?!

↳ user12: oh i know he's going to fangirl so hard

user13: get me someone who looks at me the way oscar looks at lando

↳ user14: are we sure that they aren't the ones dating?

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 3,017,426 others

youruser: back home finally! pic 1: yeehaw. pic 2: my cat cora had her babies!!! pic 3: dinner date :)

tagged: oscarpiastri

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user15: CORA HAD HER KITTIES

↳ youruser: i am officially a grandma. i feel the gray hairs coming in now

user16: oscar and yn are endgame

oscarpiastri: the best company

↳ landonorris: STOP, idk how you got her in on this joke either

↳ user16: i can't tell if lando knows they are actually dating and is joking or if he truly does not believe oscar

user17: boyfriend is back on the feed!

↳ user18: farmer yn is back on the feed!

glenpowell: miss you lady

↳ youruser: you miss my animals more

↳ glenpowell: and what about it.

liked by youruser, oscarpiastri, and 4,209,384 others

landonorris: OMG HE WASN'T LYING i got to feed so many animals, got to channel my inner cowboy, AND get drunk with the yn? i can die a happy man

tagged: youruser

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oscarpiastri: believe me now?

↳ landonorris: never doubted you

↳ user19: lando seriously didn't believe oscar lol

↳ user20: i fully thought he was joking the entire time

user21: how hard did you fangirl to meet yn, lando?

↳ landonorris: surprised i didn't pass out honestly. i facetimed GLEN POWELL

youruser: so glad you had a fun time!!

liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,298,361 others

oscarpiastri: everyone clear that this is my girlfriend?

tagged: youruser

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user22: sassy oscar

↳ user23: channeling his inner lando

landonorris: yes sir 🫡

↳ oscarpiastri: stop being weird ?

youruser: MY MANNNNN

↳ user24: oh she's in deep

user25: there is one thing oscar doesn't play about in life: yn

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 4,208,763 others

youruser: didn't even know there was confusion that this was my boyfriend lol

tagged: oscarpiastri

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landonorris: how was i meant to know?!

↳ user26: literally how everyone else knew, instagram.

glenpowell: yn stop posting pics of me and my boyfriend and acting like he's yours

↳ youruser: i dont like this joke.

↳ oscarpiastri: bromance or whatever

↳ user27: they're in a throuple

↳ youruser: ew

↳ glenpowell: disgusting

↳ oscarpiastri: huhhh

user28: couple goals forever and ever

user29: if they don't get married... love isn't real

[yandere-daydreams]

Hear me out hear me out on this concept idea

Southern gothic small town pastor Geto AU

tw - non/con, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, financial abuse via organized religion, and implied kidnapping.

wait that would actually be so hot of him actually.

i don't know what is about geto but he just,,, radiates scummy religious figure energy to such an atrocious degree. like, couldn't you just imagine him moving from small town to small town, posing as a country-values pastor to scam his ever-growing congregation out of their life's savings and retirement funds before smuggling himself away and moving on to fresher meat? if he works quickly, the whole operation takes a little less than six months, and he's got such a charming smile and such a soothing voice - no one's ever so much as thought twice about trusting him, not really, not unless they wanted to be the next town outcast.

well, no one aside from you, of course.

it's cute - just how suspicious you are of the man who has your chronically truant parents sitting in the front row of his chapel twenty minutes early. you'll tell anyone who's got the time to listen that you don't like his hollow expressions, that you don't find his sermon-topics appropriate, that you don't trust how quickly he showed up after your last pastor suddenly went missing. no one listens to you, of course. you burnt that bridge when you decided to move away to some big, new-age city and attend some expensive, self-aggrandizing university. like him, you'll only be in town for a few months, just until the start of your next semester, but unlike him, you actually care about what's going to happen to your neighbors after you leave. the fact that you stopped going to church entirely after he took over doesn't help. in a town like this, you might as well be signing the warrant for your own social exile.

you make an effort to keep your distance, but he just can't seem to pay you the same courtesy. in a town like yours, it's can be hard not to run into familiar faces, especially when he seems to stop in at the general store where you picked up a summer job every other day, when he mentions to your mother that they could really use an extra pair of hands at the church's monthly bake sale or tells your father that he might want to bring a helper the next time he comes to fix up a few things around the sanctuary. you're always so flustered around him, always so brooding - like you think someone's going to believe you just because you cross your arms and pout. he savors any chance he gets to touch you - whether it's his hand ghosting over the small of your back as he moves past you in a narrow hall or your body pressing into his after he forgoes your offered handshake in favor of a nice, tight, neighborly hug.

and, when you come to him, he thinks he might finally know why people try so hard to get into heaven. it goes without saying that you're irate, shouting at him from the steps of his parsonage as you demand he return the tens of thousands of dollars that your mother so generously donated early that day, but it's not hard to convince you to come inside, to get a glass of wine into your hand under the pretense that, if you really drove all this way just to yell at him, it's the least you deserve. things devolve from there - your glass looks a little empty, why doesn't he top you off while you tell him what a terrible person he is? you've already finished that bottle, but he's got a gorgeous vintage red, and you're just starting to slur - he's sure it'll be fine. and, oh, well, you're far too drunk to drive yourself home, but don't worry, his bed's big enough to share. and oh, look at that, don't you feel lucky to wake up naked and sore in an unfamiliar bed, the handsome young pastor's cock still buried inside of you? he's sure your parents will be elated when you two tell them about your new engagement (because, of course, you can't just sleep with your local pastor and expect to come out of it without a ring on your finger, can you?), even if you seem a little upset right now.

it's only as he watches you sob into his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist and his cum still dripping out of you, that he decides he might be able to stay in this particular small town for a few more months. just long enough to find a way to take you with him, when he leaves.

[morphodae]

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · ღ HSR Men Becoming Parents (part I) ღ · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · ✦ I used a randomized wheel to select some characters on parent/baby head-canons. I will do the rest in other parts, and I also plan on including the HSR women as parents too! ≫ Note: some children of these characters are biological and some are adopted! :) ✦ CW: some related story spoilers for characters, non-graphic mentions of labor and delivery, pregnancy, fluff, mentions of angst but not much

✦ Characters: Aventurine, Boothill, Gallagher, Jiaoqiu x Reader (separate)

≫"Aventurine" - Kakavasha • ♧ • ☆———☆ • ♧ •  You aren't sure why you were nervous to tell him in the first place. He takes the news shockingly well; with a bright, wide smile and a tight hug. But there's no mistaking the tremble in his hands as he envelops you, the worry that furrows between his brows at night when he thinks to his own family, his clan, and their fate. So when that fateful day arrives and you go into labor, it nearly kills him to be kept out of the room with you. "There's issues happening, sir. She's lost a lot of blood and still is, but we are doing everything we can to ensure baby and mother survive this."

Hours pass, minutes, eternity. The mocking ticking of the clock does little to lessen the incessant pacing Aventurine does with his leg as he sits, gets up to pace, then sits some more. Every possible scenario runs through his mind; none of them are positive. He can't help but think back to his cursed luck, to the fate that befell his family and now - you. His child. His flesh and blood and his hope for the future... would he even be awarded that chance? Or would "luck" take you away from him, too? Nearly stumbling over himself, a nurse comes to get him; her eyes dark, exhausted, and her face forlorn as a tired smile stretches gently across her face. "They are both stable now. Would you like to see your little boy, Mr. Aventurine?" ≫ Boothill ━━✥◈✥━━ "Well fudge me! Ain't no way it actually worked!" He spins you around in his strong cybernetic arms; ecstasy doesn't even do his own emotions justice in this very moment. The two of you looked at galactic doctors in passing, some promising the idea of conception as long as Boothill had some genetic makeup left on his person. Which he did: his head and his hair. Still, the two of you didn't put much stock into it but figured you might as well both try. If not, neither of you had any issue being childless or even adopting an orphan from one of the many war planets. Boothill, for as curt and reckless as he could be, always admired your enormous heart for children and animals who had no home, and no one to take care of them. So, when the news of that so-called galactic genius of a doctor managed to successfully combine both your and Boothill's genes to create a baby, it isn't several minutes before Boothill lets your feet touch the ground. Even so, throughout your pregnancy, he still doesn't let your feet touch the ground. Call it dedication to you, his spouse, but also call it a fear of losing his family again. Months pass by quicker than expected and Boothill always managed to talk with the growing life inside you every night, telling stories of the sister they could've had, how proud he was of them already, how much of a fighter they were gonna be when they managed to kick you a little too hard.

And so, when time passes by in another blur, Boothill's eyes are glazed over as he stares down at the tiniest little bundle swaddled in his arms. Tiny tufts of hair that resemble his fill her small head, eyes thar resembles yours. She looks up at him, at her daddy, and one stray arm lands square on his face until her hand squeezes at his nose. Boothill is speechless for once; glad his little girl is strong and healthy and reaching out for his face - the one part of his body he can still feel touch. He swears on every part of his being: it's not just you he has to keep safe anymore, but his new chance at being a father.

≫ Gallagher ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The enigma known as "Gallagher" has always perplexed you. Even when the two of you met; just who or what was he? A person? A former person? Or an amalgamation of dreams? He proves you wrong one day when he decides to travel with you to a worn-torn world for your work. As a nurse, you usually went by yourself, but for whatever reason, Gallagher decided to tag along. "It'll be nice to stretch these old legs and get out to new sights," he said. That was before the two of you were stumped: staring slack-jawed at the little boy who had smuggled himself onto your ship. He is a Halovian child; small wings flapping nervously out of shame as he peers at the two of you behind some shipping crates. Sighing, you reach down to his level, outstretching your hand and hoping that your demeanor will allow the child to feel safe with you. To your and Gallagher's surprise, the little Halovian rushes to you in a desperate hug, a familiar sound of sniffles and a dampness near the collar of your shirt. "Please! I have nowhere to go! I'm so, so, so sorry to have snuck on to your ship!" the boy sniffles, voice muffled by the fabric he buried his face into by your neck, "please don't leave me! I p-promise I'll be useful!"

'Useful'... a word Gallagher could resonate with, one that hit a little harder than most when he slowly began approaching the boy in your arms. Something changed in his demeanor then, large, scarred hand deciding to ruffle the boy's hair until the Halovian sniffled and peered up at him. "No need to cry, kid. We'll take you with us, alright?" Gallagher glances to you for approval and you send him a kind smile and nod. The young boy grips on harder to your shirt, thanking you profusely as you carry him off somewhere safe until you can go through the proper channels to adopt him.

≫ Jiaoqiu —————❖————— "Why?"

"Why?" "How could I ever be upset with you...? The only part of me that's upset is you thinking I wouldn't want you after this news." He wraps his arms around you, contented smile on his face. "If this is what you want then, yes, of course it'll be hard, but I'm willing to experience this with you." Your hormones are raging as you hug him back, fear slowly dissipating as the guilt for letting yourself fall pregnant when Jiaoqiu's eyesight and wounds were still healing. "I never thought an old fox like me could be a dad, heh," he mumbles, holding you just a little closer, "but I think I could get used to it... the word: 'Papa'."

Despite one of senses severely impaired, Jiaoqiu is still just as much of a mother-hen as always; ensuring you are taken care of, properly nourished, and resting when you need to. He uses the excuse each day that he "needs to check your progress" on the growth of your belly, but knowing he has little to no experience with pregnancy as a healer, it's quite obvious he's lying just to feel your tummy and bond with his little kit. Jiaoqiu will use text-to-speech books on pregnancy and parenting frequently, telling you all about the progress and changes your body is going through. And, for the record, he takes any mood swings and changes quite well; the reason is quite simple, too. He never thought he'd ever have the luxury of settling down with a family of his own and so, he cherishes every single moment of the process: good and bad. When you go into labor, he's immediately at your side. His Foxian blood can practically sense it. His instincts take the better of him and he refuses to leave your side for even a single moment; wrapping his tail protectively around you and nuzzling his face close to yours with a flurry of kisses and encouraging words. His hand certainly hurts when you squeeze it, but he doesn't mind. He also doesn't mind if you feel the need to scream; in fact, he encourages you to let it out if it hurts. Feeling the tears on your face and hearing the agony in your voice as you try to stifle your cries hurts him more than you know. But, oh... when the first cries of his beautiful child is brought into the world, he feels that familiar lump of emotion forming in his throat, his chest constricting. When you describe what she looks like, describes just how much she resembles him, Jiaoqiu breaks down. He apologizes quickly and tries to compose himself. But it doesn't last long when he's allowed to hold his daughter with your guidance.

When her tiny hands wrap around his finger, he knows... he knows that he's finally reached a point where his centuries of healing others has finally begun to mend his broken heart back together.

© morphodae (please do not insert any of my works into artificial intelligence programs or repost my works on any site)

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time

G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

"How old are you?"

"20."

Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.

"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"

You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.

It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.

"I'm 20." He deadpans.

Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."

Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.

And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.

"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-

To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty. 

He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.

Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.

"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes."

And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.

"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-

There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."

.

.

Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.

You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.

He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.

Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.

Which unfortunately has not happened yet.

With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.

You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.

Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.

You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.

It's impressive how studious he is.

In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.

Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.

You type out a direct message to the only person you know.

You: I missed that, what did she just say?

Gun: You should have been paying attention.

You: Fuck you man!

You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.

He smirks.

That night he kicks your ass again.

Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.

.

.

If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.

You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.

Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-

Hold on.

You double, triple-take-

Is that?

It must be.

Shit.

It's fucking Gun Park.

You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-

He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.

"Y/N."

"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.

He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.

Fuck.

Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.

It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.

After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.

.

.

The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.

It’s utterly charming.

Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.

Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-

Wait. You squint at the picture.

Is this guy for real?

"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.

He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.

Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."

He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.

"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

.

.

Even without a seating plan, one forms.

Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.

You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.

No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.

Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.

.

.

Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.

What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.

If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.

Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.

He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.

Alright then.

Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.

He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.

You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.

"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.

"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."

He arches a brow at your words.

"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."

There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.

.

.

Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.

You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.

A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.

He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.

"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.

.

.

Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.

He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.

Of course it would be from there.

The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!

"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.

Of course he would also be a coffee snob.

You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.

You think that's an insult.

"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

.

.

You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?

You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad

Gun: None of your business

You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then

Gun: They are not-

Gun: Whatever

.

.

You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible

Gun: I know

You: Who’s Goo anyway?

Gun: …

Gun: No-one

You: Suuuure

.

.

You: Tekken tonight?

Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?

You: >:(

.

.

You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?

Gun: Ok

.

.

Gun: Thanks for your help

You: :) 

.

.

Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.

You: Spoken like a coward!

Gun: Dumbass

You: Hey!!

.

.

Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.

You: Does it have to be an espresso?

Gun: Yes

You: …Thanks

.

.

To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.

It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.

What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.

However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.

Strange, very strange.

You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.

"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.

"... Everything ok?"

It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.

He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.

At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.

"Are you interested in Tekken?"

"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?

"Then meet me. After class." 

"Where? Here?"

"No. At mine."

"Where's that?"

"..."

He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.

Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.

You nod along, thinking what is with this guy. 

.

.

So firstly, what the fuck.

Then secondly, what the fuck.

Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.

You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.

You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated. 

Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?

Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?

"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.

"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.

He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.

.

.

"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.

Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.

It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.

Apart from that, it's barely a home.

"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.

"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.

'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.

"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.

He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers. 

“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.

Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.

Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more. 

He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.

Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.

If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.

You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.

You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring. 

Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.

.

.

"Holy shit, I won!"

You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.

Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.

You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.

What you do find is-

Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.

Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.

And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-

(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.

It sinks in.

The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.

From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)

Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.

"Yes. The best."

You think it's a lie, an embellishment.

But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.

[helen-with-an-a]

Will there be a second part of "Be The Best" where the girls help the reader. But at some point, the father comes and says that the reader needs to become even better, but the girls stand up for him and drive him away.

Or where the reader turns out to be a good person and tries to make friends with everyone, but it turns out to be awkward.

Hiiiii - so this is a little sadder than I anticipated but I quite like it. I might make a pt3 I'm not to sure - what do you guys think/if you have any reqs for it? Also please just imagine that there's like a foresty/woodsy type bit at Colney

Be the Best pt 2

AWFC x reader ; Leah Williamson x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3

Description: R has some self-realisation after trying to make friends

Word count: 4.6k

You had never felt so stupid in your life. Why? Why had you done that? Tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over, as you walked. You couldn’t let them fall. No emotion. The best don’t feel emotion.

It was lunch time, a time you usually spent eating alone before going on a walk around Colney, usually ending up in the gym. After much reassurance from Kim, you had finally worked up enough courage to approach some of the team. Kim had made it sound so simple – just walk up to them and ask if you could join. You had rehearsed it in your mind a dozen times, mentally preparing for every possible reaction.

But when you finally stood there, tray in hand, in front of the group of girls who seemed to belong to an entirely different world, everything went wrong. They were sitting in the corner of the canteen, their laughter and chatter like a bubble you had no idea how to penetrate. You were so sure you looked ridiculous – just standing there, awkward and unsure, as if you had no right to even be in their presence.

“Can I sit?” you grunted, the words leaving your mouth almost of their own accord. As soon as they were out, you regretted them. You kept your eyes glued to the tray in your hands, desperately avoiding the gazes you could feel boring into you. The food on your tray – the food that looked so nice when you picked it out, looked bland and unappetising now – suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world. Anything to avoid looking up, to avoid seeing their reactions.

The silence that followed was suffocating. It stretched on, a tangible force pressing down on you, making you feel smaller and smaller with each passing second. The confidence you had painstakingly built up with Kim's encouragement was slipping away, like sand through your fingers. You had never felt so out of place, so exposed, as you did in that moment, standing there waiting for a response that never came.

Finally, you risked a glance up and caught Kyra’s wide, terrified eyes staring back at you. Did you really scare her that much? The thought sent a jolt of anxiety through you. Were you that terrifying that a simple question had her so scared? Was she always this afraid of you? You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, feeling more awkward by the second.

Alessia and Lotte exchanged concerned glances, their silent communication only adding to your growing unease. You could see the tension in their faces, the way they seemed to be trying to figure out what to do with you, as if your mere presence was some kind of problem they had to solve. Vic, who had always seemed so confident and collected, visibly gulped, her nervousness painfully clear.

No one spoke. No one moved. The entire canteen seemed to have dropped into a wary silence, as if the whole room was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next. It was like a switch had flipped, and suddenly you were the centre of attention. The air was thick with unease, the kind that made your skin prickle and your heart pound.

What the fuck were you doing? The question echoed in your mind, growing louder with each passing second. You couldn’t sit with them. You didn’t belong there, in their world, no matter how much you wanted to. The realisation hit you like a punch to the gut, and the embarrassment that followed was almost too much to bear. You don’t need to sit with them, you told yourself, trying to salvage what little dignity you had left.

And then, just as quickly as you had convinced yourself to approach, you mumbled something unintelligible – a mix between an apology and an excuse that even you couldn’t understand – and turned on your heel. The shame was like a weight on your back, driving you away from the table, away from the awkward silence that had frozen you in place.

You walked as quickly as you could without breaking into a run, your feet carrying you away. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the burn of tears threatening to spill over, but you forced them back, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat.

You continued walking out of the canteen, your footsteps quick and unsteady, the tray of food abandoned on a random table near the door in your haste to get away. The clatter of the tray as it hit the table echoed in your ears, but you didn’t care. You just needed to escape. The walls of the canteen felt like they were closing in on you, the stares of the other students—real or imagined—burning into your back.

The gym. That’s what you would normally do to squash the feelings down. It was your sanctuary, the one place where everything made sense, where you could channel everything into something physical, something real. There was nothing like running until you felt like your legs were going to give out, or punching the bags hanging in the corner until your arms ached and your hands were bloody. Pain was something you could deal with; it was tangible, controllable. The emotions, though – they were a different beast entirely. The best didn’t feel emotions. You had told yourself that so many times it had become a mantra. Emotions made you weak, and you couldn’t afford to be weak. Not now, not ever.

But you would be easily found in the gym. It was the first place anyone would look, and you couldn’t bear the thought of someone finding you like this – sweaty, shaking, and teetering on the edge of a breakdown. You didn’t want to be found. You couldn’t let anyone see the cracks in the armour you’d worked so hard to build. Not now, not after what had just happened. You had embarrassed yourself in front of the team, made a fool of yourself by going against your instincts, by trying to reach out and connect when you knew better.

You needed to find somewhere to hide, somewhere you could lick your wounds in peace. The locker room was out of the question – too many people coming and going, too many chances for awkward questions and pitying looks. The thought of facing anyone right now was unbearable.

You found yourself heading for the back exit of the gym, the one that led out to the far side of the training grounds. It was quieter there, the paths less travelled, especially at this time of day. You pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool air, the breeze hitting your face like a slap. You bit your lip, the pain momentarily distracting you from the hurt of your stupidity.  The coolness of the air was a sharp contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside, and for a moment, it felt like you could finally breathe again.

The gravel crunched beneath your shoes, the sound oddly satisfying, grounding you in the present. You weren’t entirely sure where you were going, but you didn’t care. You just needed to keep moving, to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the people inside. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You bit your lip even harder, tasting iron on your tongue. The best don’t feel emotions. The best don’t need friends. The best train and work hard. The best practice until they physically drop. You didn’t need anyone else, didn’t need to put yourself in situations where you felt so exposed. So why had you allowed yourself to think, even for a moment, that this time might be different?

The girls’ faces flashed in your mind – Kyra’s wide, startled eyes, Alessia and Lotte’s concerned glances, Vic’s visible gulp. The sudden silence of the canteen echoed in your mind. They hadn’t known what to do with you, hadn’t known how to react, and that stung more than you wanted to admit. A solitary tear rolled down your cheek. Besides that day in the media room with Kim, you don’t remember the last time you cried.

Actually, that was a lie. You remember the exact time and place where you last cried. You were 10, you had just received the academy letter that you were to be their second-choice goalkeeper for the Under 12s. You had shown your mum, she had been so excited for you, beckoning your father over to have a look. He had told you it was first choice or nothing. If you weren’t going to be the best, then you shouldn’t even bother. That night, you cried yourself to sleep, clutching the letter so tightly that you woke up with paper cuts. You wanted to prove him wrong, to show him that you could be the best, but that tiny voice in your head, the one that echoed his words, made you doubt yourself. It made you wonder if you’d ever be good enough.

The sky had transitioned from a soft amber glow to a deepening indigo, the kind of blue that swallows the light whole. You had found a bench just off the path, hidden by a canopy of trees that whispered in the evening breeze. The bench was old, the wood splintered and weathered. It was a place where you could disappear, if only for a little while.

You had never missed training before. Not even when you were 18 and had pneumonia. You could still remember that week, the way your chest burned with every breath, your lungs heavy with fluid that rattled every time you inhaled. But you stayed bundled in layers, forcing your body through drills with single-minded determination. Your coach had asked if you were okay, concern flickering across his face, but you’d just nodded, pushing past the exhaustion and pain. You could barely breathe, but missing training wasn’t an option. Not then, and not now. Or at least, that’s what you’d always believed. The best doesn’t show weakness. But today was different. Today, you couldn’t find that strength. The drive that usually pushed you onto the pitch, no matter how tired or sick you were, had vanished. Instead, you felt drained, hollowed out by emotions you didn’t know how to handle.

You shivered slightly, a definite autumnal nip to the late summer evening. The long sleeve top you wore did little to prevent the cold from settling on your skin, but you welcomed the chill. It kept you grounded, made the swirling thoughts in your head a little less chaotic. The cold helped you think, or at least gave you something tangible to focus on when your emotions threatened to overwhelm you.

Your mind kept drifting back to Kyra. She had looked so genuinely scared of you. The memory of her wide, startled eyes made your stomach twist with guilt. You’d never seen her like that before – Kyra, who was always so confident, so full of life. She’d looked at you like you were a stranger; someone she didn’t recognise. And maybe, in that moment, you were. Maybe you didn’t recognise yourself either.

You pulled your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly as if the pressure could hold you together. The breeze picked up, rustling the leaves above you, and you closed your eyes, letting the sound wash over you. It was peaceful here, away from the noise and the people and the expectations. But the peace was deceptive, fragile. You knew you couldn’t stay here forever. Eventually, you’d have to go back, face the reality of your team. The cold crept deeper into your bones, but you didn’t move. You deserved this discomfort, this numbness.

A tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another. You wiped them away quickly, but more followed, and soon you were crying in earnest, silent sobs that shook your shoulders and left you gasping for breath. You hadn’t cried like this in years, hadn’t allowed yourself to. But now, alone in the dark, surrounded by nothing but trees and the fading light, you let the tears come.

It wasn’t just Kyra’s fear that haunted you, but the realization that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as strong as you thought. The thought was terrifying, a crack in the foundation you’d built your entire life on. If you weren’t the best, if you weren’t unbreakable, then what were you? Who were you?

The tears slowed eventually, leaving you drained and exhausted. You rested your head on your knees, staring blankly at the ground as the darkness settled in around you. The training session was definitely over by now, the team heading back to the locker room, wondering where you were. They’d ask questions tomorrow, they’d want to know why you weren’t there, and you didn’t have any answers to give them.

But for now, you stayed on the bench, hidden away from the world, trying to piece yourself back together. You knew you couldn’t stay here forever, but for a little while longer, you allowed yourself to be weak, to be human. The best doesn’t show weakness – those were the words you’d lived by for so long. You didn’t know how to live without them.

You heard footsteps approaching. Whoever it was, was moving wearily - each step slow and calculated, like trying to approach a frightened animal. Is that what they saw you as? A wounded creature that had to be handled with caution, a volatile presence they needed to tread carefully around to protect themselves? The thought stung more than it should have. You used to like having that barrier. That bubble of self-protection that kept you alive.

You kept your eyes fixed on the ground, not wanting to acknowledge whoever was coming. Maybe if you stayed still, they’d turn back, leave you to your thoughts. But the footsteps continued, growing closer until they finally stopped just a few feet away. You could feel the presence lingering there, the silence heavy between you.

“Hey,” a voice broke through the quiet, soft and hesitant. It was Leah. You didn’t need to look up to know it was her – her voice was unmistakable, that Milton Keynes accent audible even on a single syllable word. You didn’t need to be told why they had sent her to find you. She was your national captain, your club’s vice-captain. You had always respected her.

You didn’t respond immediately. You didn’t really know what to say. You let the silence linger, stretching on to the point where Leah questioned if you even heard her. The silence hung between you, thick and heavy. Leah’s words were gentle, but they carried weight. “You missed training.” It was a simple statement of fact, but it felt like more – a subtle nudge, a reminder of the responsibility you’d momentarily abandoned. You expected her to follow it up with something more – maybe a reprimand, maybe an expectation that you explain yourself. But instead, Leah just sat there, her presence calm and steady.

You could feel her eyes on you, but you kept your gaze fixed on the ground, the words you wanted to say stuck in your throat. What could you possibly tell her that she didn’t already know? She had seen what happened in the canteen. She had seen your stupid attempt to make amends. She had seen everything.

But Leah didn’t push. She didn’t demand answers or try to fill the silence with empty words. Instead, she simply waited, giving you the space to speak when you were ready – or not, if that’s what you needed. It was one of the reasons you respected her so much. She understood that sometimes, silence spoke louder than words.

“You don’t have to explain,” Leah finally said, her tone soft, understanding. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all that matters.”

Her words caught you off guard. You’d expected some kind of judgment, some level of disappointment that you’d let the team down, but instead, there was just concern. Genuine concern, not just for the team, but for you. It was a foreign feeling; one you weren’t sure how to process.

“Kim told me that you were thinking of trying to start sitting with people at lunch,” she continued, her voice gentle but probing. There was no judgment in her words, just a simple observation. It was as if she was giving you an opening, a chance to share what was really going on inside your head. But even with the invitation, the words still felt tangled up inside you, too messy to untangle in front of someone else.

You shifted uncomfortably on the bench, the rough wood digging into your legs, grounding you in the present moment. It had seemed like such a simple idea at the time – a small step toward breaking down the walls you’d built around yourself, a way to prove to the team that you were trying, that you wanted to be a part of things. But now, in the cold light of Leah’s concern, it felt almost childish. What had you really expected? That one gesture would erase months of distance, that a seat at the table would magically make everything better?

“Am … am I a bully?” It was something that had been floating around your head all afternoon. No one looked that scared, that nervous of someone unless they had valid cause.

Leah’s eyes widened slightly at your question, and for a moment, she seemed taken aback. But she recovered quickly, her expression softening as she took in the vulnerability behind your words. She didn’t rush to answer, clearly understanding the weight of what you’d just asked.

“No,” she said firmly, her voice gentle but resolute. “You’re not a bully.”

You wanted to believe her, but the doubt still gnawed at you, clawing at the edges of your mind. “My dad’s a bully. And I act like him.”

Leah's expression shifted, her brows furrowing slightly as she processed your words. There was no immediate response, just a thoughtful silence that hung between you. You could see the wheels turning in her mind, the careful consideration she was giving to what you had just said.

“You’re not your dad,” Leah finally said, her voice steady and calm.

“But I act like him.” Your voice held no emotion. These were simple facts. At least in your mind. “He screams and shouts at me for the smallest thing. I shouted at Kyra in a training session. I asked if she was deaf or just stupid. I told her she shouldn’t think. I shout at everyone. I told Alessia she was a waste of money. I said to Laia that she was useless, and I couldn’t understand how she won the World Cup with her defensive skills. I said we were doing better without Laura during her first session back. I told Jen I was glad to see her go because we would make fewer stupid mistakes”

You weren’t proud of anything you said. Each accusation felt like a knife twisting in your chest. The realisation of the hurt you had inflicted was almost unbearable. You could see their faces in your mind – Kyra’s eyes wide and a little glossy with hurt, Alessia’s shoulders slumping, Laia’s frustration, and Jen’s quiet resignation. You knew you’d been mean, knew that all those little comments had chipped away at people’s confidence and self-worth. It was the technique your dad and old coaches had done to you. In order to be the best, you must be broken and rebuilt. Your dad had broken you a long time ago.

 Leah listened intently, her eyes never leaving yours as you laid out the fears that had been gnawing at you. Her eyes widened slightly as you listed the hurtful things you’d said. The gravity of your admissions was evident in the way her expression softened, shifting from surprise to deep concern. She took a moment before responding, her voice steady but compassionate.

“What do you think when you let a goal in?” The question took you by surprise. The question hung in the air, unexpected and almost jarring in its simplicity. For a moment, you were caught off guard, trying to piece together why Leah would ask something so seemingly unrelated.

“That I’m worthless. What’s the point in having a keeper if they can’t stop the goals, right?” You sniffed a little, thinking about all the self-deprecating thoughts that course through your mind at lightning speed if you let a goal in. You bit your lip, letting the familiar pain wash over you. 

Leah's eyes remained locked on yours, her gaze filled with a mix of concern and understanding. She took a moment to absorb your words before responding, her voice calm and measured. “Who told you that?” You blinked, looking at for her a brief second, confusion clouding your mind. “Who told you that you’re worthless if you let a goal in?”

“My … my dad, my old coaches. But everyone knows that goalkeeper’s who can’t keep clean sheets are useless," you laughed humourlessly. "I mean, look at our Champions League matches last season, we lost on penalties, that’s my fault. We came third in the league, I let too many goals in. We crash out of the FA cup because of a goal that I could’ve easily stopped. I let a goal in the Conti cup. All of them are my fault. I wasn’t good enough. And with England? I let the goal in in the World Cup, our Nations League losses were all my fault, goals that shouldn’t have been scored. I’m the reason we weren’t at the Olympics this year. We qualified for the Euros by the skin of our teeth – we lost to France and drew to Sweden on home soil.” It was the rhetoric that had been spewed to you all summer. Every day, you needed to be better, do better, be the best, you couldn’t make a mistake. Look at what mistakes had cost you.

Leah listened carefully. Yes, she knew you carried each loss personally, but she didn’t know you took it this badly. She could see the deep exhaustion in your bones, the deep circles under your eyes, the paleness in your skin. You looked like you hadn’t had a proper rest in years. Each statement you made was like a dagger, not only piercing through your own sense of self-worth but also hitting Leah in a place she hadn’t expected. The weight of your guilt and frustration was palpable, and it was clear how deeply you were affected by every perceived failure.

She could see the toll this relentless self-blame was taking on you. Leah had known about the pressure you faced, but hearing the full extent of your suffering was sobering. It was one thing to understand the high stakes of professional sports, but it was another to see someone so dedicated and talented struggle under the crushing burden of their own expectations. She was struck by how your relentless pursuit of perfection, driven by past experiences and harsh criticisms, had led you to this place of self-doubt. The emotional scars were clearer now, and Leah could see that your harshest critic wasn’t just your dad or your old coaches – it was yourself.

Leah’s heart ached for you. She remembered her own struggles, the pressure to perform and the fear of failure that often accompanied high-level competition. But what you were expressing went beyond that. It wasn’t just about the weight of a single match or a missed opportunity; it was about a pattern of self-destruction that had become ingrained, a relentless inner voice that constantly reminded you of every shortcoming.

“I’ve heard it all before,” you continued, your voice cracking as you went. “Every mistake, every goal that went in was my fault. If I don’t perform perfectly, then I’m useless. I’m supposed to be the last line of defence. What good is a goalkeeper that lets goals in? In order to be the best, you must be broken and rebuilt.” You sounded so lost, in so much pain. Yet you clearly believed every word you were saying.

Leah’s eyes softened even more as she listened to your words. The silence that followed your last statement was heavy, thick with unspoken emotions. Leah let it linger, allowing the gravity of your confession to settle between you.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, yet full of determination. "I don’t believe that," she said firmly. "I don’t believe that you have to be broken to be the best. And I don’t think anyone should make you feel that way."

You looked at her, an unfamiliar ache in your chest tightening as you tried to absorb what she was saying. "But I am broken," you whispered, the words almost choking you. "I’ve been broken so many times. I don’t even know who I am anymore, Leah. All I know is that I have to be perfect, or everything falls apart."

Leah shook her head, her expression resolute. "You’re not broken," she insisted. "You’re hurt. And there’s a difference. You’ve been hurt by people who should have supported you, people who should have built you up instead of tearing you down. But that doesn’t make you broken. It makes you human."

Your breath hitched as you processed her words. They were so different from the ones you had grown accustomed to hearing, the harsh criticisms and impossible expectations that had been drilled into you for years. Part of you wanted to reject them, to cling to the familiar pain because it was what you knew. But another part of you, a small, fragile part, wanted desperately to believe that Leah was right.

Leah reached out, placing a hand on your arm, her touch gentle and reassuring. "You’re not alone," she said softly. "We all make mistakes. We all have moments when we don’t perform the way we want to. But that doesn’t define us. You’re so much more than those moments. And you’re allowed to be human, to have bad days, to not be perfect all the time."

You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back, trying to maintain control. It was hard, though, with Leah looking at you like that, with so much compassion and understanding in her eyes. "What if I’m not good enough?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Leah moved over slightly, shuffling across the bench until she was almost touching you. "You are good enough," she said firmly. “We are a team. We help each other be the best. We rely on each other and push each other to be better. We can start slowly, there’s a team bonding next week. We’re going to the cinema and then out for a meal and drinks. I know you don’t usually come but how about you turn up. If you don’t like it or you want to go home, you can do – no questions asked.” You had never been to the cinema before. At least not that you can remember – maybe when you were a kid?

“Cinema … that sounds … nice.”

[yestrday]

: ̗̀➛ DESPERATION INCARNATE yan! xiao / gn! reader

in every life, he had sworn to protect you. in every life, he had failed. in this life, he'll make sure that it won't happen again. to keep the you in this life from ever slipping away from him like you did so many times before.

in which xiao falls in love with you in every life and slowly goes insane.

( reincarnation au, w4r, lots of blo0dshed and decápitation, graphic description of vi0lence, mention of xiao's sl4very, deáth... lots of it, sort of enabler aether but for a lil bit, the beginnings of a yandere, angst. lots of it as well )

“you know, yéyé says that if you make a wish on a dandelion seed, then your wishes will come true!”

the unnamed adeptus fixes his golden gaze on a fellow prisoner, sitting across from him with a bright smile. the prisoners around them have given up already, with their dull, glazed eyes and the repeated prayers of deàth spilling from their cracked lips. but this odd one, although their face caked with grime and their hair matted from bloòd, smiles at him from the darkness.

“... dandelion seed?” he goes, not bothering to wince or be embarrassed by his raspy voice. this dull life strips you of your dignity and pride. there’s no use in saving face when you’re looking at deàth right in the eyes. “i have never heard of such a thing.”

“oh, you don’t know?” the little prisoner cocks their head at him. “it’s a curious thing! it’s a flower with fluffy petals covering the middle part. yéyé said that whenever he takes a walk on the borders between liyue and mondstadt, he’d pick some for himself and make a wish!”

the adeptus scoffs. “wishes have no place in my world. actions must be taken if you want results. your grandfather sounds foolish. now be quiet, lest you want the god to take care of that noisy tongue of yours.”

his fellow mate sticks said tongue out at him and gives him a dirty glare. “how rude! my yéyé is the smartest one in our village, you know. he takes a record of all the crops harvested. he’s veeery important! besides, don’t you want to know what he wished for?”

he sighs. it wouldn’t hurt to indulge this one’s yapping for a little more time. the painful groans were starting to take a toll on him and conversation, no matter how foolish the premise sounded, was a nice change of pace. even if his throat was hurting from use because of the god’s neglect to give them drinkable water. “what is it, then?”

they grin at him. “he wished for mondstadt’s harsh winds to disappear! isn’t he cool?”

“why wouldn’t he use the wish for himself?” he cocks his head. “it seems to be more efficient and logical.”

the little prisoner stares at them from behind their bars.

“... what.”

“you are so dull to talk to.”

ugh, this little—! they were the one who started the conversation! before alatus could snap something back, they fall back dramatically and shake their head at him in a pitying manner. “wishes aren’t made to be efficient and logical, stupid! they won’t always work! that’s why they’re just wishes!”

he decides that this thing is absolutely aggravating to talk to, but he won’t deny that he likes their company. “then what’s the use of doing something so useless?”

they laugh. it echoes through their cell, a pleasant tune before it escapes through the bars and gets lost in the sad symphony of groans and lifeless pleas. they continue to laugh like they were underneath liyue’s vast blue skies instead of an underground tomb. “isn’t it obvious, mister adeptus? it’s for hope!

“if you wish on a dandelion and blow the seeds away, your wish will be carried for all of teyvat to hear! and then– and then! even if it’s just a teeny bit of hope, you’ll start to feel that everything can be possible!”

“sounds inefficient.”

“that’s why i said you’re so dull to talk to.”

“hmph.”

“i don’t understand why you keep coming back down here, mister adeptus,” comes the familiar cheery voice of his once prison mate. the surrounding cells are all empty, filled with corpses of the dead long gone. the young god has no time to spare any thought for the useless mortals hanging in his underground prison. the adeptus slides a tray of milk and bread between the bars and into the lap of a grinning face.

even you, he thinks as he examines their sallow face and dry lips. you have been forgotten.

 “you have plenty of companions upstairs. shouldn’t you be celebrating and parading around with them? i heard through the cracks that you’ve got plenty of rice wine to waste.”

“they are not my companions,” he snaps, but they don’t flinch as they snack on the food. “they’re fools who waste their time mindlessly partying and deriving pleasure from the pain of the weak. and i’m… i am nothing more than the god’s plaything.”

he sinks to the ground, sighing. “... [your name],” he whispers, staring at them tearfully from behind bars. “i will get us out of here, i promise.” his hands, shaking and caked with blood, gently reach for their cheek. it’s rough and awfully thin, and something in his chest breaks whenever he sees such a beautiful thing covered in dirt like they were nothing. “i’ll get you back to your village. i’ll make sure that you’ll see your grandfather and your siblings again.”

their hands squeeze his lightly, not having the energy to reciprocate his tenderness like they used to. “i know,” they whisper back to him. they smile up at him, though it is now weak and shaky. “... your hair is green.”

his brows knit together in confusion, but they brush back a few stray strands and smile at the feel of it in their palm. “... i’ve never seen a dandelion, you know. but my yéyé says that dandelions are green. i don’t know if it’s this shade of green but…” you close your eyes and chuckle. “it’s nice to know that i have my own dandelion right in front of me.”

“...?!”

“my dandelion… i have a wish to make,” you mumble to him. alatus closes in, ready to serve you your heart’s deepest desires.

“anything… anything you want, [your name], i’ll make it come true. so…!”

“smile for me, will you?” you peer up at him, watching confusion take over his delicate yet rough features. “you always look so sad. as my dearest friend…

“my only wish is that i see you smile. even if it’s just once.”

the adeptus returns the next day, milk and bread on a tray once more. they are wasted on the floor.

a corpse smiles from the shadows of the cell.

he thinks back to the wish he couldn’t fulfill yesterday. try as he might, it’s hard to stretch his lips into a genuine smile.

maybe it’s because he’s collapsed on the ground, yelling in pain as his whole world blissfully sleeps in the corner.

maybe it’s because whenever he tries to smile, it doesn’t feel right.

not when there’s no one to smile for anymore.

the end is nowhere in sight, yet rex lapis keeps pushing forward.

alatus’ spear plunges into the guts of the demons, spurting black blood over his lithe body as he pulls it out. around him, his fellow yakshas are also hard at work. bosacius tears bodies apart with his four bare hands, splattering more blood and leaving a gruesome sight behind. menogias clicks his tongue and furrows his eyes at the electro yaksha in disapproval.

“can’t you be a bit more graceful, bosacius?” he steps out of the way as bonanus and indarias team up to fling a particularly mighty foe across his way. “these corpses are dismal to look at!”

bosacius laughs boisterously, hoisting an enemy up in the air and cracking their skull on a rock in one fell swoop. “i can’t be bothered, brother! this is the way bosacius fights! with bare hands and strength! corpses are not meant to be looked at anyway!” crack. crack. the gruesome sounds of his fighting are lost in the sounds of war around them.

with a clever twist of his body, alatus sends a corpse to the four-handed idiot to which he skillfully catches without even sparing a glance. “less talking, more fighting,” he says ever so curtly. “rex lapis requires our immediate assistance. do not dally.”

bosacius and menogias send each other a knowing glance, quite familiar with alatus’ undying loyalty to their senior adeptus. the fighting continues and alatus continues to let himself get lost in the chaos, never minding the mysterious ache that binds his chest tighter and tighter with every demon purged. when the battle is won, no one celebrates. it’s hard to, when you feel the blood of the thousands you have massacred drying on your skin. alatus approaches rex lapis, his toned back shadowed by the rising sun as he overlooks the aftermath of the war.

“you’ve fought well, alatus,” rex lapis’ deep voice acknowledges him, brown eyes still steady on the horizon. “you do well to keep the contract.”

“i do not need a contract to serve you, rex lapis,” alatus starts humbly, lowering his gaze in respect. “i owe you my freedom and life.”

“you say that, yet i now have you enslaved to kill for another cause. to me, there is no difference.” rex lapis casts a glace on his most loyal follower. “yet you say that i have given you freedom.”

alatus takes note of the dry bitterness underneath rex lapis’ otherwise gravel tone. “i have signed the contract of my own free will,” he professes, daring to gaze his golden eyes into his lord’s similar ones. “you need not worry about me, my lord.”

rex lapis chuckles, before beckoning alatus to his side. “look at her harsh winds and cold peaks,” the senior adeptus muses. “our nation is blessed with vast plains and tall mountains, but our neighbors shoulder the bitter cold while fighting their side of the archon war.”

“indeed,” alatus could only say. “but your victory is sure now, my lord. soon you will rebuild liyue to glory once you’ve taken the seat of the seven.”

“mmm, yes,” rex lapis hums. “the war nears its end. seven victors from different nations, including bitter and wintry mondstadt. i wonder what sort of archon will rise from mondstadt. our borders are joined together— while violetgrass root themselves on the stony sides of our mountains, their dandelions withstand harsh winds even as their seeds threaten to fly. perhaps their new archon can give them a home where they can grow unbothered, while i build our citizens to be as resilient as a violetgrass.”

… dandelions…

“apologies for the unnecessary question, my lord, but… have you seen a dandelion?”

“oh, they’re curious little things indeed. native to mondstadt. if guizhong had time, she used to walk by the borders and pluck them to make a wish.”

alatus’s breath hitches at the familiar tale. “... what did she wish for, if i would be permitted to know?”

rex lapis’ lips turn into a half-smile, hardened eyes softening at the memories of a dear friend long gone. “she wished for liyue to prosper under my rule. never used a wish on herself.”

“... huh.” the wind blows back alatus’s matted hair, revealing forlorn eyes as they gaze at the sun. “... i wonder why they all do that.”

“does this all sound familiar to you, alatus?” the younger adeptus looks up to see his lord gazing at him with a soft look. alatus shakes his head and straightens his back, taking on the stance of a soldier once again.

“no. this is not the time for me to be concerned with another nation’s trivialities.” he bows his head to the adeptus and starts to make his exit. he doesn’t know why, but a gloved hand takes one of the stray strands of hair self-consciously and turns back to rex lapis. “another question… if i may be so impudent to ask.”

“impudence is not a word to be used on you, alatus. go ahead.”

for a moment, alatus’s confused and conflicted face makes him look like the young adeptus rex lapis saved from the hands of a cruel god. now he is not a battle-hardened soldier, but a lost boy who doesn’t know what to do. “... is the shade of my hair… similar to that of a dandelion?”

the older adeptus cocks his head at the unusual question. “far from it, no.” he studies alatus’s look of disappointment as he lets go of the strand. “why do you ask?”

“... nothing, my lord.”

moments of respite like this are rare in this current era of warfare, so soldiers cherish every single second of it. but for alatus who has only known bloodshed ever since his days at the mercy of the young god, this temporary peacefulness is a waste of time. in a camp just outside of liyue harbor, alatus and his fellowmen idle around a crackling campfire.

“you’re too fidgety, alatus-gē,” pervases laughs as he takes a bite out of his grilled ticker fish. he raises one to alatus’s face. “care for one?” when the senior adeptus scowls and turns his head away, he shrugs and scoffs it down stick and all in one gulp. “more for me then.”

“those malevolent gods continue to let their underlings rampage as we sit here and idle,” alatus frowned at the seemingly peaceful campsite of his fellow yakshas and even a few outstanding mortal warriors. “we should be making plans and calling reinforcements. the war will not end unless we bring that monster down to its watery grave.”

“oh my,” comes a motherly sigh. a young woman with silvery gray hair smiles slyly at alatus. her slender figure stretches across the log serving as a seat in front of the campfire, the cleansing bell tinkling delicately at her side. “you youngsters are quite eager to get into danger these days. not everyone has the energy to keep battling, you know? why i—” she sighs mournfully, pressing her fingers to a supple cheek “— even i need my beauty sleep. charging into the fray daily with no rest is just too much!”

“ping,” he addresses the newcomer. “i see that you are as vain as ever. if you’re not willing to put your all into this war, why did you even enter the contract?”

“i am upholding my end of the contract,” huffs ping. “but only within reason! you’re the one who’s out of reason.” she waves him off with her hand, shooing him off like a stray dog. “take a walk or something. call it a night patrol to ease yourself. i’m afraid your scowl is going to affect me and give me wrinkles.”

alatus takes a good moment to ponder the suggestion before he feels ping’s eyes narrowing at him threateningly. with a deep sigh, he takes his spear with him and teleports himself to a quiet walkway some ways off the guili assembly. war had touched this side of liyue too, it seemed, with swords rusted with blood plunged to the ground and tattered kerchiefs belonging to soldiers waving solemnly in the air. alatus knows this place to once been the safe haven of rex lapis and the late guizhong’s people before the war took the sweet goddess’ life and perished her to dust. now it is mere ruins, a reminder of the evil deities are willing to commit for power.

alatus has years of battle experience under his belt, but it doesn’t make the feeling any better as he stares at these relics. he focuses his gaze on the moon and walks by.

… rumble rumble…

a weathering wall shakes just a few steps away, alerting alatus’s senses. he quickly arms his spear as he vigilantly approaches the spot. the place is teeming with ruin guards and other dangerous mechanisms and although mindless machines are no match for him, alatus is not one to underestimate an opponent. when he peeks around the corner, it is not the eerie glowing eye of a machine but a pair of eyes about to glaze over.

covered in soot and dirt, a raspy voice tries to speak out, “w… wa… ter…”

alatus blinks in surprise when he finds a human instead but quickly teleports somewhere to get drinkable water. in a moment, he appears again in front of them and swiftly tips the saucer into their mouth. gently lifting their head, he watches as they desperately glug down the water. some of it spills from the sides, but the light in their eyes quickly revives until they pull away with a gasp.

“ugh… ha! i thought i was a goner there!”

alatus freezes.

two shining [eye color] eyes peer up at him gratefully as a wide grin spreads across their face.

“thanks a lot, mister adeptus.”

they are escorted into liyue harbor. alatus does not talk to them or even spare them a glance, afraid of whatever feelings that may arise should he do so. he’s aware of the curious glance they send his way, scrutinizing his every inch. he doesn’t like how they stare at him with awe and absolute trust. this is an era of warring gods, where adepti like him dig into flesh and blood to pursue their ambition. fools who cling to whoever feeds them die easily.

they continue staring. it feels like fire as his guilt and memories long pushed away pour from his heart and threaten to consume him whole. his steps feel heavier, as if any second now and the earth will cave in and send him straight to hell. unconsciously, his eyes glance back to them and they… smile.

it hurts.

flashes of a corpse long gone come back to him and he tears his eyes away. he shakes this haunting feeling away, yet their stare that bears the weight of decades' guilt continues to burden him all the way to camp.

"ping," he says gruffly, catching the attention of the group. everyone's a bit startled at the arrival of a newcomer, a dusty and malnourished one at that, but even more so that alatus decided to trek uphill instead of just conveniently teleporting himself. "take care of this one," is all he curtly says before plopping down underneath a tree and closing his eyes.

ping huffs in disdain and gives him a dirty look, but quickly changes it to give the newcomer a warm smile. “come now, sweetie,” she coos, placing a comforting palm on the small of their back and escorting them to the bonfire. “you’re positively shivering! it makes sense, given that that yaksha’s always so cold.” at this alatus grunts, but she doesn’t pay him any mind. “here’s some soup and a blanket to cover you with. my gosh, you’re so dirty! what have you been doing? playing around in the mud?”

you eagerly take her up on her offer, and soon you’re swaddled in a thick blanket and bowl of carrot soup to enjoy in front of the fire. “i was actually studying some of the leftover ruins at the assembly. i thought that maybe i could get some useful things and use them for myself.”

ping gasps dramatically at your story– a young adult scrapping for leftovers in the middle of the war– and alatus rolls his eyes. “poor, poor thing!” she cries and draws you in for a hug. “don’t worry. here at morax’s camp, you won’t have to suffer through that anymore! you’ll be cared for until we can find a suitable place for you and the other survivors to live!”

you laugh. “i think you have the wrong impression, ms. adeptus, i’ve had it pretty easy compared to others during this war. what i’ve been scrapping are materials!”

ping cocks her head, and alatus even peeks out from the tree he’s hiding behind. “materials, darling?”

“yes! screws, tree bark, metal, you name it. i’m finding them so i can continue making my gadgets.” you fish into your bag, and they can hear the clanking of metal and other stuff as you sift through the mess. “ah, here it is, one of my favorites!” you pull out a curious box, the cuhui wood engraved with liyuean details. you gently snap the box open and reveal a little figurine made out of precious stone, frozen in an elegant twirl reminiscent of liyue’s traditional dances. you begin to crank the little knob at its side, and when you release it a pleasant tinkling of sounds fills the night air.

ping stares wide-eyed at the pretty treasure, listening to its sounds with a fond look on her face. even pervasive hums as he gnaws on his nth fish, his scratchy voice humming along with the old lullaby. other nearby campers close their eyes and let their minds wander for a while, to a place where lullabies such as this sang all day and wars didn’t raze grass and civilians to the ground. for a moment, they let themselves be deluded into a moment of peace.

when the tinkling fades away, only the crackling of the fire remains. “pretty, isn’t it?” it takes ping a moment to snap out of her trance before nodding enthusiastically.

“quite! oh, if it didn’t look so perfect slotted between your hands, i might have snatched it for myself! although,” she nervously chuckles, feeling the stern gaze of the silent adeptus lounging behind the tree. “i might not have the chance anyway. a certain someone has been glaring at me ever since i conceived the thought.”

“maybe he wants it for himself?” pervases jokes. “he could do with it, what with all that stress.”

“hmph, i’ve no need for such trivial things.” he goes back to resting against the trunk without another word.

ping sighs and shakes her head at you, like a disappointed mother. “he’s always like that,” she laments. “he’s morax’s most faithful servant, i’ll tell you that, but sometimes it makes me wonder what will happen after this war is over. surely he won’t be going around slaughtering monsters?!” she raises her hand to her mouth like the thought was too unforgivable.

pervases hummed, thinking hard and long about how his senior would act in a time of peace. “hmm… i think alatus-ge would like to fish. he seems like the type.”

the image of the bloody general fishing floats above your three heads. ping waves it away. “as if!” she scoffs. “he’d just spear the fish and be done with it!”

“what kind of person do you think alatus-ge is…?”

“alatus, alatus!”

something twists at his gut, a mix of anticipation and dread, but he stops in his tracks to wait for you. you catch your breath beside him. “you’re so fast for someone so short!” you complain. “how do you do it?”

“slowness isn’t an option on the battlefield,” alatus curtly says before turning to assess. you’re covered head to toe in dirt, and your fingers are covered in grime like you’ve been digging. he sighs and rubs a speck of dirt from your cheek. “another one of your foraging hunts? you can always tell me if you need something. it’s too dangerous outside the camp.”

“i used to tell you, didn’t i?” you pout. “but you can’t tell the difference between a cork and a screw!”

alatus blushes. he can’t really wrap his head around these machineries. whenever you and cloud retainer got into one of your excited conversations about tinkering and machinery, alatus could only pretend like everything you just said didn’t make his head spin. if you got into another of your rants about the intricacies of machines or whatever, everything you said went into one ear and out the other.

“but you still listen, don’t you?” ping and pervases teased him with knowing grins. he had hit them over the head after that.

“... tus! alatus! ugh, you’re not listening again!” you had gotten into a lecture of the differences between corks and screws, but now you shake him by the shoulder with furrowed brows. “you’re always like this. is machinery really too hard for you?”

“everyone has their strengths.” he ruffles your hair, smiling softly when you visibly relax. “you wouldn’t want me to tell you about how to efficiently kill geovishaps, do you?” when you make a face, he laughs slightly. “thought so.”

“they just… ugh. they just smell so bad!”

“... they smell like rocks.”

as the two of you finish the rest of his patrol, alatus doesn’t miss a moment to watch your every movement. here, under the red rays of dusk, you look so alive. your cheeks could be healthier, but alatus is comforted with the knowledge that you stuffed yourself full this morning. your eyes have a twinkle in them, not the last sparks of ember that you had tried to hold on for so long. and you smile… because you want to. not because you had to. not because you had to comfort your fellow friend in prison.

“looks like we’ve walked too far,” alatus comments, sighting the dandelions swaying in the distance. “we should head back to camp before it gets too dark.”

“oooh, dandelions,” you muse. you and alatus stand side by side, taking in the dandelions swaying in their pastel heads swaying in the wind. “i heard they were pretty, but seeing them in person is better.”

standing by your side, alatus takes in your countenance. there is an indistinguishable look in your eyes as you watch their seeded heads bob and sway, your smile somewhere between content and forlorn. the setting sun paints your face with an orange hue, only serving to make you look as if you’ve come out of an oil painting itself. alatus’s breath hitches and he tears his eyes away from you.

self-consciously, he rubs a teal strand of his hair before tucking it back. “do… does my hair…” you turn your gaze to him questioningly, and his pale face burns at the embarrassing predicament he’s put himself in. “does my hair look like the dandelions?”

you stare at him for quite some time, only blinking and not saying anything, before you tilt your head back and laugh. alatus’s face only reddens further and he hits you with his elbow in his embarrassment. you only continue to laugh, even as alatus is beginning to throttle you and beg you to pay no heed to his words. when you’re done laughing, alatus huffs at you and refuses to look at you.

“oh, you… silly adeptus, i would have mistaken you for a pure-hearted maiden there!” you giggle into your hand, and alatus’s brows knit themselves in huffiness as you continue to tease him. “come on, you have eyes. they’re not even close in color!”

he kicks you lightly in the shin, before turning around and walking off to the distance. “come on. let’s head to camp before night,” he says as if nothing’s happened. you stare at his back for a while, a teasing smile on your face, before shaking it off and hurrying to catch up to him. when you catch up to him, you leap at him with your arms around his neck, ruffling his hair with a bright smile on your face.

“don’t be too grumpy, alatus!” you laugh, even as he sends you a look of frustration. “once this is all over, we’ll come back to this place and make wishes on those dandelions!”

“don’t forget about me, mister servant,” you lightly laugh behind your bars. “bring me lots of food, okay? then once you get me outta here, we’ll have a big ol’ feast at my yéyé’s.”

one of the guards tug at alatus’s shackles but he clings to your cell even as they grunt and pull. “[your name], i’m not leaving you! i can’t! i won’t!”

you chuckle. “stupid mister adeptus. who’s going to swipe cake for me then? now go, shoo.” you wave him away, smiling weakly. “i know you’ll come back for me. you always will.”

you’ve always had a knack for being the unluckiest person alive. even if your smile was so bright that it seemed to ward off evil, tragedy always seemed to tightly coil around your neck like a noose. he wanted to be the one to cut it off, in both the last life and this.

once again, he always seemed to be too late.

“they’ve broken through the formation!” indarias yells, slamming a fiery fist through her enemies. the pyro-blessed yaksha, usually so playful and coy, looks at her comrades with panic. “there’s no one left at the camp to defend them anymore. they’re— they’re all—!” she swallows down the bitter reality, pervases and her other comrades’ gored bodies flashing through her mind. “the civilians can’t defend themselves from all those monsters!”

“shit.” menogias slices through a foe and turns to their youngest, standing atop a pile of bloodied corpses. karmic debt wraps him and the other yakshas like a dense fog, and it gets harder to breathe with every passing second. still, he calls out to him.

“alatus—!”

the young yaksha only spares him a golden glance, before slipping the bloodied mask on. “you don’t have to tell me twice.” and he disappears into the air.

you are not there when he reappears at the camp. no one is. everything is on fire, and he can barely see what’s in front of him thanks to all the smoke and ashes polluting the air. he hisses at the burning in his lungs, but he perseveres forward as he strains his ears for any signs of life. the faint clashing of weapons and maniacal laughter is far away, but they grow stronger as he continues.

he steps on something… fleshy. growing dread rises within him as he slowly looks down.

that… is a severed hand.

biting his tongue, he rushes forward through the sea of flames. more and more decapitated limbs and bodies litter the area. arms, legs, torsos, feet… the handiwork of psychopaths, no doubt. because an ordinary soldier would not do this. not to civilians. not to people who could not defend themselves. he sees no face to mourn for. he sees no head to remember.

roars of laughter peal through the air as he braves a wall of fire. as the sky is dyed red with both fire and dawn, alatus’ face pales when he sees the enemies marching around as they shout triumphantly into the chaos.

your head, beautiful as he had always remembered, parades past him on a wooden stake.

when karmic debt takes over, he doesn’t remember anything the next morning when he sobs and cradles your sleeping face, surrounded by the bodies of foes and allies alike.

in your next life, you are both strangers. he looks high and low for you in liyue, but he does not find you.

celestia orders the seven archons to launch an attack on khaenri’ah, and alatus and whoever is left of the adepti is ordered by rex lapis to stand by in liyue and eliminate any escaped khaenri’ahns. although he has nothing against them, he is more than happy to follow his lord’s commands, because he has nothing else left to do but do his duty.

surely enough, the khaenri’ahns have found some escape route that leads up to liyue. unfortunately for them, alatus and the others are there to massacre them without hesitation.

in one of the escapees, his eyes widen behind his mask as he meets your scared eyes. in this life, they have diamonds in them, and they stare back at him with fear and unfamiliarity rather than mischief and friendliness. he thinks you still look beautiful.

even as he drives a spear through your chest.

when the massacre is finished, he tries to find your body. but there are too many of you, bodies upon bodies and the stench of death heavy in the air. he cannot find you, his pearl, in this bloody sea of corpses.

years have passed, and he has not seen you since.

well, that would be a bit false. he does see you, but not… you. he does not walk with you in flower fields to admire your face bathed in sunlight nor does he watch you rummage through ruins for scraps of metal and machines. he does not idly chat with you behind bars to pass the time away nor does he help soft bread to your chapped lips as he comforts you with promises of your freedom and your yéyé.

he sees an image of you, the hallucination that his karmic debt has conjured for him in his nightmares. you smile at him ever so sweetly, joining him in his bed at wangshu inn. you’re always so pure and pretty in your nightdress when you sidle up to him to share in his warmth. but when you lean over to press a kiss to his cheek, alatus’ eyes shoot wide open as he feels your hand wrap around his neck and squeeze. he should fight, he could fight, but how could he? your face is twisted in hatred and disappointment, whispering to him about his betrayal and failure to save you. ‘you killed me, you left me, you fed me to the dogs.’

how could he fight back, when all you have said is the truth?

and so alatus, now named xiao, wakes up for another day drenched in his sweat and tears.

he is patrolling guili plains when he spots a familiar head of gold and the tinier head of white walking idly through the grasses. it’s not unusual for aether and paimon to be here, but they’ve thoroughly explored and exhausted this area of any treasures, and last he heard they were in fontaine. he hides away in a tree, observing their usual back and forth as they seem to wait for someone.

“like i’m saying, they’re an hour late!” paimon fumes, stomping the air as she throws a tantrum. “what if someone happened to them? oooh, paimon knew we should’ve picked them up from mondstadt! they’re always so clumsy!”

“oh, don’t get your crown in a twist, paimon,” aether says, nonchalant as ever. he glances towards xiao’s way and hums to himself, as if partaking in a fun little secret (he’s always been so perceptive, xiao muses), and takes a bite out of his sunsettia. “geniuses like [your name] are always like that. losing track of time, getting caught up in some curious thing they encountered on their way… they’ll be here soon, promise.” he hands out his half-eaten sunsettia to paimon. “sunsettia?”

“ew, gross! don’t hand paimon your leftovers!”

xiao perks at the familiar name, opening one eye as he lazily ruminates the familiar syllables in his head. [your name], [your name], [your name]... like he could ever forget that. he whispers it in his sleep, prays to your hallucination like a god, screams it every morning… [your name], [your name], [your name]... he watches aether finish his sunsettia and sighs to himself. he shouldn’t be silly. numerous people with your name have appeared in liyue ever since he’s last seen you, and not one of them was you. he shouldn’t get his hopes up.

“— iiii’mmm! so, so sorry!” a sobbed yelp breaks the peace of the plains from the distance. a hefty backpack overshadows the figure carrying it, running as fast as they can with the weight on them. they skid to a stop in front of the traveler and paimon, who greets the newcomer with an amused smile and a huffy face. the backpack ungracefully lands on the grass with a loud clang, and its owner falls alongside it as they try to catch their breath. “i’m so— huff— sorry! i was— hah— on my way here when i— huff— came across a travelling merchant. they had all these goods from fontaine and i— hah— couldn’t resist!”

paimon once again stomps the air. “well, you should try to be more mindful from now on! it’s rude!”

“i’m so~ory,” the eccentric figure whines pitifully. they rummage through their bag and pull out a pretty tin box, the kind used to store cookies. “forgive me, paimon?” in the usual paimon fashion, her eyes twinkle upon seeing the pretty sugar cookies stored inside, and upon the first bite all is finally forgiven.

“hm, is it just me or is someone watching us…?” they wonder, looking around the guili plains for any signs of life. “i feel this, uh, weird pressure. or am i just delusional…?”

when they turn, xiao catches their eyes through the canopy of leaves on the tree he’s occupying. his breath hitches, his eyes widen, and the world seems to halt to a stop.

you unknowingly lock eyes with the adeptus, cocking your head as you try to find the stranger peeking on your little group.

you blink when the pressure is finally gone, and you look back at the highly perceptive traveler in confusion. he only regards you with a small smile and shrugs.

“you’re awfully interested in the engineer, don’t you think?” aether playfully muses as he walks in on one of xiao’s rare times of relaxation. he lounges on wangshu inn’s balcony as he overlooks the scenery beneath him, almond tofu in hand. “why don’t you greet them for yourself then?”

xiao doesn’t spare him a glance as he brings a spoon of the silken food to his mouth. “unnecessary.”

aether rolls his eyes, taking the spot next to xiao as he studies the adeptus with a smile. “don’t be like that, you introvert. you’re always following us around while they go study liyue’s machines. i’m sure zhongli would be pleased to know that you have friends outside of us and the other adepti.” xiao scowls when aether uses his lord as a guilt trip, but doesn’t comment any further. “[your name]’s a wonderful person, if not a bit ditzy at times. i think they and cloud retainer would get aloong quite well if they ever met each other.”

he thinks back to your second life, where you chattered the night away with the crane adeptus about machinery and the like. bathed in the glow of the campfire, alatus would only dare observe from a distance as you talked passionately with stars in your eyes. aether observes as xiao’s eyes soften. “they did.”

the traveller huffs a laugh, slumping his cheek against the wooden railing as he looks out to the scenery too. “reincarnation, huh? there were things like that in other worlds as well.”

he’d never admit it, but he had always been pleased by the fact that aether had the shared experience of living for eras, if not longer. the other adepti were never close to humans, but aether and his sister had always walked alongside mortals in order to observe their stories. xiao lets the wind graze his cheek. “... did you ever have someone you wanted as well?”

“i made many friends but…” aether quirks a small smile, tapping his fingers on the wood lightly. “my sister was really all i needed.” he notes the hidden pain in his voice. “we’ve traversed many worlds together, and we will always have eternity together. but you don’t have someone like that.”

golden eyes meet golden, and xiao shudders at the sly look that aether gives him.

“well, unless you do something to change that.”

‘damn you, aether.’ the traveller’s always been sort of a bastard hiding behind gentle manners and a pretty smile, but he never thought that he’d stoop so low as to awaken the dark feelings that he’s kept repressed for so long. ‘sly dog.’ he makes a mental note to not react when aether calls for him next as some sort of petty revenge.

today, you are alone. your backpack is lighter, thankfully, otherwise you would not be able to travel through the huaguang stone forest’s cliffs and falls. he’s joined you on this journey since you started a few days back, but he continues to grow with paranoia every time he sees you walk too close to the edge. he’s also saved you a few times, summoning wind to stabilize a shaky glide or carrying you further away from the edge when you started rolling in your sleep.

his heart twists when he settles you back in your sleeping bag. he takes in your sleeping face, murmuring nonsense in your sleep, and the sides of his lips tug into an unconscious smile. you’ve always had that habit in the lives that he’s known you in, and he pushes aside the strands of hair to take a clearer look at your face. when the babbling subsides, your dopey grin relaxes itself, and the heartaches begin once again. so many times he’s watched over you like this, but the last time he had was… was when you were…

your face, peaceful and oblivious, overlaps to a bloody, dismembered one. xiao inhales sharply and shakes the image out of his head.

he starts with your cheek, caressing it softly with his calloused fingers as he revels in your warmth. they trace every feature— your fluttering eyelids, the in-betweens of your eyes, your twitching nose— until his thumb presses on your lip. this was not a luxury he could afford back then, but now, now.

‘i can protect you in this world.’ he thinks. his lips brush against yours, but he does not lean in further.

‘all my past transgressions, i will make it up to you.’

you smile in your sleep peacefully, just as you did... so many years ago.

you appear in xiao’s dream once more.

it starts off the same as always. you are draped in fine liyue silk, batting those innocent eyes at him as you call him to your shared bed. he knows what will happen next, having relieved this for centuries on end. you will crawl upon him, you will wrap those hands around his neck, and you will admonish him. xiao stares at the alluring image of you and does not budge from the foot of the bed.

“[your name], come to me.” your image cocks its head in confusion, but you follow anyway. now that he’s met the real you, he can clearly see the difference. your hair isn’t that shade, your eyes are much too wide and— ah, his image of you has slowly been creeping away from his mind after years of separation. the thought of it twists his heart.

he watches you crawl over to him, tempting and innocent like a newly wed bride. you sit on your knees dutifully, awaiting his next command. he reaches out, strokes your hair— it’s not as soft as this in real life— and smiles darkly.

“i love you, [your name].”

you smile. “i know.”

“i always have. even after all these years.”

“i know.”

your eyes held so much light and passion than this blank-minded image of you. he inhales. “i’ll miss you.”

you furrow your brows, frowning in confusion at the sudden confession. “alatus, what are you talking about—?!”

xiao’s face is unmoving as he watches you choke on your blood, staring up at him wide-eyed as your hands shakily reach up to the spear embedded through your chest. “a– la– tus…?” he does not respond to your weak call, yellow eyes dull as you bloody his spear and heave with every gasp. “wh– how could…?”

“i’ve met you, [your name],” he whispers. he thumbs away the blood trickling from your lips. he breathes in slowly, knocking his head against yours. your image stares at him in betrayal and fear. “in this life, i’ve finally met you.” he feels your image dissipating and he brings you in closer. “finally. after all these years.”

“a… la… tus…”

“this time. this life. i promise you.” he entangles your bloody hand in his and presses a kiss to it. “we will finally be together.”

“no matter what.”

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife

Chapter VII: Landslide 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Life goes on, even with a broken heart. Can you and Aemond move forward as bandmates, and not partners?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, smut, feral lovemaking, P in V, toxic family dynamic, angst

Word count: 5000

A/N: As always, thank you so much for helping me my lovely Justine @theoneeyedprince 🩵

You dismiss another call from an unknown number with an annoyed flick of your finger and continue reading the document in front of you, eyes scanning over the deed poll forwarded to you by your solicitor.

Back to only carrying your maiden name. Targaryen officially removed.

It’s strange, like the marriage never happened.

You can’t decide if the thought is comforting or devastating. What would your life be like if you’d never met Aemond? No fervid passion. No ruinous heartache.

Last year, you couldn’t imagine a day when you wouldn’t be by his side. The man you called family. Your husband.

It’s official. You’re not family anymore.

Aemond’s voice is hushed as he speaks to his grandfather out on the balcony. He’d asked you to wait in the living room as he took the call, but not being by his side makes you feel restless.

You knew Otto would be ruthless; stooping impossibly low in order to make Aemond rethink his decision to leave the firm to pursue the band full time.

He finally emerges from the balcony, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion and face hollow. You shift your body slightly on the sofa, bringing your arms out so he can sit down next to you and fall into your embrace.

He does exactly that.

Your fingers come up to comb through his hair as you gently ask, “What did he say?”

Aemond just sighs as he moves to hide his face in the crook of your neck, arms leisurely placed around your waist.

You already know the answer.

That he was ashamed of having a quitter for a grandson. That Aemond will never amount to anything without his grandfather. That he’s too intelligent to think that pursuing a band could be a viable career path.

“What do I do now”, he mumbles defeatedly against your skin.

You tap his cheek lightly with the tip of your finger to make him look up at you.

Your eyes lock, and you place your hand on his cheek, gently stroking your thumb over his cheekbone,

“I am your family now, Aemond. We’ll always have each other”

You seal your reassurance with a kiss, and he eagerly reciprocates, pushing himself up to hover over you. You sink further into the sofa cushions as he surges down to kiss you again.

And again.

His kisses are slow and forceful, nearly sucking the soul out of you, leaving you breathless.

You soon find yourself in your shared bed, Aemond arms still wrapped tightly around you.

He lets his forehead down to rest against yours, and gazes into your eyes with an almost manic stare as he whispers,

“You’re my everything”

Each of his kisses, touches and whispers echo the devotion he feels for you, and warmth spreads like wildfire in your chest. This must be what it feels like to have someone love you entirely.

When the two of you become one, he rolls his hips against yours unhurriedly, sending pleasurable sparks through your body. It feels so, so good all you can do is moan, and you bring one hand up to grab a fistful of the hair at the back of his head, smashing his lips against yours in a messy kiss.

The only sound in the room, in the entire flat, is your matching breaths as you entwine pants and moans, lips never leaving the other’s.

You can hardly form a coherent thought as each of his thrusts makes his pelvis press against your clit,

“Don’t come yet”, he breathes into your mouth and kisses you again. You nod obediently.

He turns you so that you're on your side and lays down right behind you.

His large hand caresses the smooth skin of your thigh before grabbing your flesh, draping your leg over his hips as he begins to rut into you, a bit harsher than before.

You reply with a moan, letting him know how good he feels. Your hand searches his, still on your thigh, and you hold onto it for some stability as your body jolts forward with each harsh snap of his hips.

He goes harder, thrusting into you with his face pressed to you cheek, mumbling in your ear,

“Feels so fucking good, baby”

You moan again and move your face slightly to place another wet kiss on his cheek. They’re flustered, and the top of his ears are almost as red as his face. There’s a determined look in his eye that wasn’t there before, fiery in a stern way that doesn’t quite match your passionate love-making.

Using his arm for leverage, he lifts his body slightly, fucking you harder and harder. Your body gets pushed into the mattress and you find yourself on your stomach, one hand sneaking down to rub circles between your thighs. Aemond grunts as your walls clench down on his length, his face now shielded in your hair.

“I’d fucking die for you, you know”, he grits out, continuing his merciless pace.

Though your peak is nearing rapidly, rendering your brain nearly useless, you feel like something’s not right.

He sounds angry.

You turn your head from where it’s pushed into the mattress. He looks deranged; hair falling in front of his face and pupil blown wide, eyes filled with something you can’t really decipher.

But it’s not purely lust.

You call his name and bring your hand up to stroke his cheek, searching for his eyes. He keeps his gaze on your body, refusing to look up and meet your concerned frown.

“Aemond, are you okay?”

He dismissively grunts at your question, but slows down and finally meets your eyes.

Is he upset?

You’re not sure what’s going on, but you see that sadness reflect in his eyes; the same vulnerability that pops up whenever he feels threatened.

When he feels like he might lose you.

It’s usually obscured by anger, but now it seems too potent for him to suppress.

Staring into his seeing eye, you console him,

“I love you too, Aemond”

His expression falls.

His eyes shine with sadness.

It makes you sad too. If he’d only let you in on what makes him like this, you could help him; reassure him that whatever it is he fears won’t come true. But he doesn’t let you in.

And all you can do is watch.

The movement of his hips falters, and he says nothing, only breathes heavily.

The hand you have resting on his cheek slowly travels down to his chest, and you push him gently, gesturing for him to lay down on his back.

He follows your silent instructions without protest.

You turn around and move one of your legs so that you’re straddling him, hands resting on his chest. You slowly sink down on his cock, feeling whole again as it stretches you out in the most perfect way.

You moan and throw your head back, setting a slow, steady pace. Your hips move up and down, front and back.

Aemond’ s hands squeeze your hips harshly as he matches your rhythm, bucking up into you, losing himself to pleasure once more.

“You feel so good, baby”, you tell him, pace never faltering,

“No one could ever make me feel as good as you do”

He moans, one hand moving from your hip to your breast, cupping it and pinching your nipple between his fingers.

You sigh in pleasure and lay down on top of him, hands moving to cup his face. Your thumb strokes the marred side of his face, and you notice his gaze flickering away from yours. With a persistent grip, you push on the side of his face to make him look into your eyes again,

“You’re mine. And I’m yours”

Your lips meet his, and the kiss you thought would be slow and sweet turns heated as Aemond harshly grabs your body again, arms wrapping around your waist. He bucks up faster, fucking you harder, and with a startled, pleasure-drunk cry into his mouth, you abruptly peak. He follows with a loud groan, and moves his face to the crook of your neck again, just like earlier in the evening.

He holds your body securely against himself, and after a while, you try to pry his arms away and get off him, but he just mumbles into your neck,

“No, please”

You lay your head back down and close your eyes. Aemond is deadly silent, but you feel his breath against the skin over your collarbones, and something wet slides down the hollow of your neck.

Shut out and without being allowed in, you try to soothe him the only way you know how,

“I love you”

Two days have passed since your live show in Winterfell, and your phone won’t stop buzzing with incoming calls from unknown numbers.

You know they’re from journalists hoping to get a comment from you about the performance and your new song, the drama of it clearly being about your ex husband fuelling their thirst for gossip.

You’d spent the time since the concert in isolation, essentially doing nothing besides watching TV and eating takeaway in your hotel room.

You left Winterfell yesterday, boarding an overnight flight to Oldtown for your next show.

Today, you’ve finally found a reason to get out of the hotel room, planning on an afternoon looking around the vintage shops that are scattered around the narrow cobblestone streets of the quaint town.

You spend nearly an hour in your favourite boutique; a hidden gem a few minutes away from one of the more famous shopping streets of the city.

When you and Aemond were still together, you often came to Oldtown to visit his mum. Seeking some familiarity after her husband, Viserys Targaryen, passed away, she decided to move back to her hometown and hasn’t left since.

Alicent thrived in the town she grew up in, and whenever you came to visit, she eagerly showed you around all the places she’d frequented with her friends as a young girl.

Aemond, in turn, had shown you his favourite spots as well; bookstores, record shops, and organic coffee shops. You remember that one time he tried to convince you that the all-natural, no sugar brownie he’d ordered tastes just as good as the real deal. The face of betrayal you made as you took a large bite of the brick-flavoured monstrosity he’d dared call a brownie caused Aemond to release the most out-of-character belly laugh you’ve ever heard.

The memory still pulls your lips into a smile.

Stop it!

You try to shake your head in a feeble attempt to erase the train of thought. You need to make new memories here now.

Memories not tainted by him.

The last rays of sun for the day shine through the gaps between the ancient buildings cramped together on the streets when you decide to make your way back to the hotel. You pull out your phone to type in the address, still not familiar with navigating Oldtown on your own. The map on your phone shows that it’s a 15 minutes walk along the water to your destination, the perfectly idyllic end to a quite okay afternoon.

The sun quickly sets behind the stoney, worn houses surrounding you, and street lights illuminate your path as you walk, enjoying the calmness of the rather large city. Most people have returned home as darkness envelops the streets, leaving you alone on your way back.

You turn to walk down one of the sidestreets towards the hotel, when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling you out from your thoughts.

You abruptly stop and look back, catching the gaze of a man you’ve never seen before. He smiles at you in a way that makes the hairs at the back of your neck stand.

Still with his hand on your shoulder, he asks,

“Aren’t you the singer from Dragon Dreamers?”

“Yes”, you reply, unsure of how to assess him. There’s something in his intense stare that causes unease to chill you from within, yet you appear to be frozen in place.

You have been approached by fans on occasion before, but never alone in a somewhat unfamiliar city.

“I’m a huge fan. This might be a bit forward, but could I take you out to dinner?”

The hand he has placed on your shoulder squeezes your flesh over your jacket. His eyes are expectant, not blinking, and his voice is slightly strained, adding to your already uncomfortable state.

“Thank you, but I’m on my way back to my hotel, and-, I-, I need to get back”

Your answer is hurried and clumsy, and you hope the stranger will understand your discomfort and leave you alone.

“Oh, where are you staying?”

His eyes light up when he adds,

“I can walk with you”

“That’s kind of you, really, but not necessary, I’m okay. Thanks”

You try to hide the dismissal behind a veil of politeness, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave you alone.

You turn around to walk away, almost stumbling over your own feet as they move quickly over the cobblestoned streets.

The man doesn’t say anything else, but you notice him in the corner of your eyes. He starts walking in the same direction as you, only a few steps behind. He’s close enough to keep you within his sight, far away enough for it to seem innocent.

Is he going to hurt you?

Your heart beats faster.

Force himself into your hotel room?

You can hear your heart drumming in your ears, panic washing over you.

You don’t dare to look back at him, afraid that he might take it as another invitation to engage you in conversation, but he stays in the corner of your eye; like an ever-looming monster.

Luckily, there’s a small group of people walking ahead of you, oblivious to the fact that you’re being followed by an unknown man.

What would he do if they weren’t here?

Your steps grow quicker.

You glance at your phone; still a 10 minutes walk until you reach the hotel. The man behind you speeds up his footsteps as well, matching your pace while staying a few metres behind you.

You’re still too scared to look behind and properly face him. The small group of people walking ahead of you look like they might turn by a sidestreet at any moment, and fear pierces your heart at the thought.

Then you’d be alone. With him.

Maybe there’s a corner shop or something around here where you can pop in and spend enough time for him to get bored and leave?

Or maybe you can call someone to come and meet you?

Looking up at the buildings surrounding you, you realise that you recognise this street.

This is the area where Alicent lives.

Maybe he’s staying there?

Before you can think any further, your fingers press on the screen of your phone, going into settings, unblocking the familiar number before pressing the little telephone icon.

You hear two signals before the call is cancelled.

Fuck! Now he ignores your calls?

Your fingers move quickly as you type out,

“sorry someone’s following me I’m walking home please pick up”.

Barely a second passes before your phone buzzes.

“Hi! Yes, I’m just around the corner, can you see me yet?”, you ask in a way too hurried tone, ruining your own attempt at sounding casual.

Your voice is loud and high-pitched as you try to signal to the man behind you that someone’s coming to meet you.

Hopefully he’ll give up his pursuit and leave you alone.

“What street are you on?”

You can hear Aemond shuffling around on the other side; picking up keys and putting on his shoes.

You look up at one of the buildings, reading the name of the street,

“Yes, I’m standing on Gardener Avenue, where you told me to meet you”, you continue to babble, hoping the shadow behind you will finally stop following you as it appears you’re about to meet someone.

“Do you remember the way to the apartment?”

“Yes"

“Walk towards it, I’m coming out to meet you. Stay on the phone with me”

Aemond sounds calm, but there’s something urgent hiding in his stoicism.

“Yes”

The conversation dies out. You’re not really on small-talking terms, so trying to fill the silence between the two of you proves tricky. Despite the silence and awkwardness, the panic that had been sprinting within you seems to ease knowing that Aemond is there.

The group in front of you eventually turn down a sidestreet, and in the corner of your eye, you see the man behind you walk faster, coming closer.

Another wave of fear crashes over you, and your heart beats so fiercely your chest hurts.

Is Aemond coming?

Maybe if you pretend to see him, you’ll finally be left alone.

“I think I see you!”, you exclaim in vain, hoping the man behind you won’t see through your lie.

He’s right behind you, so close you can hear his laboured breaths. You can’t breathe.

But then, you see the familiar silhouette of a tall man with broad shoulders appear in quick and confident steps around a corner.

The unknown man behind you seems to retreat in an instant, but it doesn’t stop Aemond from calling out,

“Were you fucking following her?”

He’s gone before any further confrontation. Left is you and Aemond, alone on a dark, empty street.

Closing your eyes, you try to take a few deep breaths to ground yourself, still feeling unnerved from what had just happened.

Breathe in.

Hold three seconds.

Breathe out.

Hold three seconds.

“Are you okay?”

You don’t open your eyes.

You can’t look up at him, knowing that the flicker of hatred in his eye as he regards you will push you over the edge; push you to release the tears that have been waiting to spill since the strange man first laid his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, just need to get back to the hotel”, you mumble and inhale deeply once again to ground yourself.

It doesn’t help, not really.

The lump in your throat feels like a painful stone blocking your airflow.

You feel Aemond step closer to you, tenderly placing a hand on your elbow as he silently waits for you to continue.

You reluctantly open your eyes to look up at him, surprised to find his face reflect gentle understanding. The unexpected act of kindness pushes you over the edge and you let out a shaky breath as you feel the pent-up tears spill from your eyes,

“Sorry, it’s just-, I mean, nothing happened, but…”

One of your hands comes up to wipe away the tears that slide down your cheeks.

“Something could’ve happened”, Aemond finishes for you. He sounds like he usually does; stoic, but you can sense the hint of sympathy there.

“Sorry for calling you so suddenly, I shouldn’t have-, I didn’t know who to call…”

The words tumble out of your mouth ungracefully, matching the hurried pace of your still frightened heart.

“Don’t apologise”

He squeezes your elbow softly in reassurance,

“Come back to mum’s place with me”, he says, “It’s just around the corner”

“No, really, I’m fine! Nothing happened and I need to rest before tomorrow’s show”, you explain as more tears slide down your cheeks.

Fucking stop crying.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now. Come up, just for a cup of tea to calm your nerves. Please?”

Aemond’s voice is more gentle than you remember him capable of.

Defeated, you reply with a silent nod and let him lead you back to his mum’s home.

As you step into Alicent’s lavish apartment, you're hit by nostalgia so potent it makes more tears well up in your already damp eyes.

Everything smells the same.

Everything looks the same.

“Is she here?”, you ask, voice small and unsteady.

“She’s out having dinner with Cole”

Aemond takes off his shoes and neatly places them on the shoe rack. He moves to the kitchen to fill the kettle and you follow closely behind, discreetly sweeping the back of your hand against your cheek to wipe away the tears that keep sliding down.

Fucking pull it together!

Aemond flicks his hand towards the chair by the small, round table in the corner of the kitchen; the breakfast nook where Alicent would serve coffee and fresh bread in the morning whenever you stayed over.

It’s all so familiar, yet being here feels so different; almost taboo. Like you’re not allowed here anymore.

You sit down and place your hands on the table, nervously tapping your fingers together as you wait for Aemond to bring the tea over.

He places the flower-patterned cup with gold details by your restless hands and sits down in the chair opposite yours,

“Drink”, he encourages and takes a sip from his own cup, seeing eye watching you intensely.

You pick up the cup, experimentally sipping, letting the hot beverage warm you from within.

It’s comforting.

“Do you really tell yourself I never loved you?”

Aemond’s sudden question takes you by such surprise, you nearly choke on your tea.

Your eyes dart up from watching the cup in your hand to watch him. His expression is as calculated as always; not letting you in on what he’s thinking. Still, his voice is gentle, like it’s been since he came to your rescue.

“I-”, you begin, trying to come up with an answer to his absurd query.

Why is he asking you this now?

“I mean, sometimes it felt like you didn’t love me”, you answer truthfully, carefully observing his reaction.

He gives nothing away as he hums in response.

“You seemed miserable being with me”, you add, wondering if this is the long overdue heart-to-heart both of you have been avoiding.

“Sometimes I was”, he replies matter of factly.

You’re not surprised by his response, not really, but having your suspicions confirmed allows you to prod further,

“I guess I just wonder whether you loved me, or just the idea of me?”

You know you’re poking a resting bear, but you can’t help yourself. You need to know what he thinks about all of this.

About you.

Aemond doesn’t blink when he answers,

“You were my first love”

You feel that all too familiar lump in your throat reappear.

“It was all so new to me, caring about someone so much. Someone who’s not family. I didn’t know how to handle those feelings”, he admits and you have to stop yourself from letting the astonishment you feel from his confession show on your face.

It’s quiet for a while. You are too shocked by Aemond’s sudden introspection, and he’s still cautious about opening up, observing you expectantly.

After a few deep breaths and some soothing tea, you speak up,

“I know things have been hard for you Aemond, and I-, I really tried to understand you. But my sympathy for you wasn’t endless… It-, I ran out”

You really don't want to fight, you don’t think you could handle it in the state you’re in now, but being honest with your ex husband always came with the risk of him lashing out.

He sighs, leans back, and locks eyes with you,

“I know. Thank you for… trying”

And that’s it. The conversation dies, like it’s run its course. Just like your relationship.

Aemond calls a taxi for you to bring you the short distance to the hotel. Both of you stay in your seats, waiting for your ride in silence.

There’s still one thing you need to tell him.

“I really want this to work, Aemond. The band, I mean”

Aemond hums in response again, finger tapping rhythmically against the top of Alicent’s kitchen table,

“Me too”, he replies after some time of silence.

It almost feels official in a way, the fact that you’ve finally agreed with each other that the band comes first; even before your broken hearts.

The silence persists as you down the last of your tea.

You feel a strange mixture of emptiness and melancholy inside. It all hits you at once; the divorce, removing his name from yours, continuing on as nothing more than business partners.

It starts as a sting in your chest, but blooms out into a suffocating ache.

He doesn’t want you anymore.

And you don’t want him; can’t want him.

It does not matter how wonderful it had been at times. The pain of the heartache you caused each other weighs heavier. And there’s nowhere to go but forward, even if your heart breaks with each step.

Life goes on.

The performance in Oldtown is just as exhilarating as the previous lives had been.

The crowd is loving every second and the venue is packed.

You feel alive.

This is it.

This is what matters.

Your biggest hit from your first album, Landslide, is a permanent feature in any show you play.

You’d written it from the sidelines, watching as duty tore the person you loved most into every direction possible.

Tonight, as you stay on the stage with Aemond and your band members retreat backstage, singing Landslide suddenly feels different.

You shoot him a quick glance before approaching your mic to introduce the next song.

They’re shouting your name, shouting Aemonds name, and you think you hear someone yell out ‘the sound of the woman that loved you!’

Speaking with Aemond earlier today, when you agreed you’d prioritise the band over any dispute you had, has left you nostalgic. Singing ‘Landslide’ feels like offering a piece of your heart, the heart he had held in his palm, to him once again.

“I wrote this song about a boy who had to grow up too fast”, you say, and Aemond starts to pluck the strings of his guitar.

‘I took my love and I took it down’

‘I climbed a mountain and I turned around’

‘And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills’

'Til the landslide brought me down’

You’d never told Aemond you wrote this song about him and his grandfather.

There was never any need to. You’re convinced that he already knows it’s about them.

You can’t help but to look over at him; at the way his hands move gracefully over the guitar.

‘Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?’

‘Can the child within my heart rise above?’

Leaving his grandfather’s firm and subsequently leaving the path his entire life had led to had been tough for him, even with you by his side.

And now he’ll have to navigate this new course alone.

You still find yourself worrying about him; for the boy robbed of his vision, forced to grow up faster than most.

‘Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?’

‘Can I handle the seasons of my life?’

‘Well, I've been afraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you’

He’s had to adapt; had to rethink and relearn everything before.

He will be fine.

Maybe you just worry about him because you hope, somewhere inside, that he won’t be fine without you?

A selfish wish for him to need you.

‘But time makes you bolder’

‘Even children get older’

‘And I'm getting older too’

It’s time to let go.

For the first time since the beginning of the tour, you don’t feel an urgent need to escape to the solitude of your hotel room as soon as the show is over.

You move unhurried backstage, gathering your things, looking over your stage outfits, pondering if you’ll wear the same thing each night or mix it up.

Just when you’re about to leave, you see auburn hair flash by as Alicent Hightower enters the backstage area, throwing her arms around her two children, loudly gushing over how incredible the show had been.

You go back to inspect your wardrobe with your back turned to them, suddenly feeling stiff and awkward with your ex mother-in-law in the room.

You haven’t seen her in months, not since before the divorce.

As the chatter behind you dies down, the clicking of heels grows louder before coming to a halt.

You know she’s standing behind you, one gentle hand coming up to lightly tap your back.

You turn around with a forced smile on your face.

How do you act around your ex-husband’s mother?

Alicent’s large, warm eyes shimmer as she looks you over, grabbing your shoulders to pull you in for a hug.

“Darling, what an incredible show! You were absolutely fantastic”, she compliments, smiling wide.

You smile back at her,

“Thank you, Alicent”

“How are you holding up?”

Her tone is soft, and her hands stay on both sides of your shoulders.

“I’m good”, you reply shortly, not really sure whether you should confide in your ex-husband's mother or not.

“I’m so glad you can put your differences aside and continue to work together”, she says sympathetically, but her choice of words make you wince slightly.

“And now is your opportunity to be brave. You’re both such wonderful artists. Focus on the music, alright?”

“Yes”

Your answer sounds meek. Her words send a pang straight to your heart.

It’s all so final.

It’s all over.

You look into each other’s eyes, a thousand words said within mere seconds as you feel your eyes well up with tears.

Alicent offers you a sad smile before embracing you in another warm hug.

Silent, hot tears slide down your cheeks as you mumble into her hair, “Will you take care of him?”

She pats your head, hand sliding down to stroke your hair lovingly, And then she hums, sounding so much like her son.

“Mm. Thank you for loving him”

A/N: Thank you sm for reading!

[missfertileandferal]

lowkey super anxious to post this but im missing you guys so much <3

i plan on a solid return soon! i just wanted to get off my chest whats been going on:

Earlier this year, I dealt with an awful situation of my kinky stuff leaking into real life. My insane coworkers found my content and as I was serving on the clock, proceeded to show my customers and all the staff. then i was fired. Im traumatized to say the least but I over came it.

Come mid summer, I planned so step back for a little bit to move apartments no more than a couple weeks. What happened was both my job (i worked with close family friends so stressful) and a really bad situation with a companion found about my kink stuff. i never expected or was prepared for the humiliation, deception, and pain that would come from my fetish journey

My last job was such a loss. I had been blessed with a cute job as a medical office assistant without any credentials (i wasnt doing anything out of my capabilities of course) it was so peaceful and perfect compared to the drama of my last gig plus working with familiar people felt just like home honestly. Then I got covid. I was out for 2 weeks, at the same time i was moving into my new place. I tried calling them back to let them know I was cleared and ready to get back to work. I received a humiliating text. I was dismissed. That turned into a crippling anxiety of them confessing to my family what I do in my past time

The following week I was met with more disappointment. Ive said this before but I dont have many people in my corner. It used to suck to admit but I stand with pride now knowing those who are around me love me 100% regardless what I do or dont do.

One of my dearest dearest friends, who I had previously communicated what I do (not to a full extent they always respected it) called me very dramatically only a week before I planned to see them (they live across the country and we ALWAYS visit each other when in our cities) It still doesnt feel real tbh, the call only last 40 seconds. I was informed that “I was going on the wrong path” and could no longer be associated with. That’s alls that happened. 8 years down the drain

I was informed by outside sources that my hometown opps had gotten hold of my content (who my ex friend still associate with but I despise bc they’ve always been obsessed with me but in a bad way) and they had confronted him about being my friend. he pussied out and cut me off. they also mass reported my last instagram account😡🤬

I had to take some time back to seriously debate if these loses were worth it. I was swallowed with so much anxiety knowing that an uncomfortable amount of people in my zip code knew what ive been up to. its already complicated being into this and while at the same time not being in a plus size body. thats another conversation tho

That debate has turned into me accepting these events as the universe weeding out people/things that no longer serve me. This has shown peoples true colors, if I am not to be associated with because of my sexual freedom, body acceptance, and undoing of fat phobia then PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE.

Im recovering ❤️‍🩹 but my heart and hedonism can’t be helped. i love being a kinky lil gut slut. its helped me grow in so many ways from acceptance to living an esoteric dreamy life. i love all the hot girls and guys that i see on my timeline. they hype me up and vise versa. i love this little corner of the internet. my fellow freaks keep me going. i’ve been so on and off online but every time i come back to the sweetest words and support. thank you guys for your patience and consideration

my anxiety is to the roof as im typing. its crazy that these privacy problems havent been within the actual community. funny. if your still reading this I love you extra. ill be streaming on ig on my comeback day!

new ig acc @missfertileandferal💘