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kingkat12 · 1 month ago

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hurt people hurt people (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, ANGST, throwing up, gore, jealousy schemes, Roman calling people uncouth mongoloids which is literally the same as in the book lol, and major risk of emotional damage (I warned you)

summary: this night would turn out to be the worst of your life-- of our lives. I hope you don't mind that I'm talking to you directly this time?

word count: 11,273

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

a/n: this is absolutely insane to me... I cannot believe I've FINISHED WRITING A BOOK?? thank you all SO so so much for being a part of this wild ride and for supporting my work, I couldn't have gotten here without all the love and all the comments, I couldn't have gotten this far without you all; therefore, I'm so so excited to give you the ultimate gift-- the last chapter of seven minutes in heaven!! ENJOY!!<333

... Alright.

We've gotten this far. It's Friday, and I need to give Roman an answer, so I'll be quick; after all the shit that has gone down these past months, after everything I've brought you along with me for, I only have one question for you...

Have you understood it yet?

Have you really?

I could sit on Jasmine's front porch for hours and tell you the story of Roman Godfrey over and over, but nothing would ever change. You'd still love him, you'd still ache for him, just as I've done since the moment I saw him. We're in the same boat, after all-- you and I.

Oh, and speaking of Jasmine; her party was the best I had attended in years. Catch the irony? The bass from the music inside thudded through the floor of the porch, vibrating up through my shoes, through my bones, syncing with the frantic rhythm of my heart, and I was therefore glad to be outside now; the ceilings had felt too low, the walls too close, and the crowd swelled like a living, breathing thing-- loud, erratic, suffocating. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe.

But out on the porch, right now, I could. Even when I thought about the fact that one week had passed, that I was supposed to have an answer for Roman regarding whether we could get together again or not, I could at least breathe.

I let out a sharp laugh for no one but myself, clutching the bottle of rosé I had managed to steal from my parents' cupboard. It was almost empty now, which was a first for me; I wasn't the biggest drinker, initially. Or was I? I couldn't make up my mind.

Being drunk, alone, and vulnerable at a party wasn't the smartest thing I could be doing, I know. As if she would magically appear, I swayed a little where I sat on the porch step glancing around for Letha-- I remember her smiling at me when we walked in together, but... wait, had she actually? Maybe she hadn't? Maybe that was someone else? Or maybe I just wanted her to smile, so I made it up? You'd believe me, wouldn't you? You'd have no choice but to.

You have no choice but to see what's gonna unfold tonight through my eyes, actually. And maybe I'm finally talking directly to you because I can't deal with it all alone?

... Don't click away just yet, please.

Stay, just a little longer.

Yes, you.

I made sure to drink the last few drops left of my rosé before saying bye to the quietness of Jasmine's front porch. My steps were heavy as I dragged my feet back into the house, yet the soundwave that hit me when I opened the door nearly knocked me to the ground nonetheless-- it didn't take long before my head started pounding to the beat of the music again.

All I knew, was that I needed to look busy. I needed to not stay too long in one place, just in case I'd run into people I didn't want to run into; I was still a bit scarred from my hellish prom-night, where I hadn't managed to get away from Daniel when he dragged me down the hall. However, he wasn't here tonight, so my biggest evasions were Letha and Roman. Sometimes, you just have to be drunk and miserable in peace, no?

Instinctively, I toyed with the vial of Roman's blood around my neck for comfort, letting the chain slip through my fingers; I had missed the weight of it. Missed the feeling of having him so close to my heart. I twisted it in the light-- red, gleaming, sharp. It had felt right to wear it tonight, and I thought it would serve as a comfort (and it did), but at the end of it all, I was still at a party I didn't want to be at.

The music was too loud. The lights were too bright. Everything moved too fast, or maybe too slow?-- I couldn't tell. I wasn't even sure of anything anymore, except that this place smelled like beer and sweat and smoke, and I put away my rosé on a nearby table and switched it with an unopened cider a bit further away. As long as no one caught me stealing, I could get away with it, right? Now that I was at it, I also grabbed the jacket closest to me hanging on the rack in the hallway, wrapping it around me despite it not being mine-- the weight of it nearly made it stumble, yet I persisted.

The cider was cold in my hand, and shockingly so. Nonetheless, I slipped it into the pocket of my jacket as I choked back a drunk hiccup-- it was only when a couple stumbled past me, bumping into me rather harshly, that I realized I had to get away from the main event of the party, which was downstairs.

I felt so dead. So, so dead. My body was simply dead weight-- dead, dead, dead. Broken. I couldn't handle this feeling, so I climbed the stairs, clutching the banister like it was the only thing anchoring me to this earth. My legs felt heavy, but my brain felt heavier, and every step echoed through my skull. Thud. Thud. Thud. I stopped halfway up because-- I don't know? I forgot why I was going up in the first place. There was an empty spot at the top of the stairs, a place where the purple lights didn't reach, where the music was muffled, where I could pretend for a second that I wasn't completely falling apart. So I slumped down, pulling the jacket tighter around me as if it could protect me from the cold that had nothing to do with the air.

And that's when I felt it-- the pack of cigarettes in the pocket.

Not mine.

Roman's.

It took me a good few seconds before I realized I had picked his jacket out of all the people that had put them away on the rack, and I could only groan. Suppressing another hiccup, my fingers brushed against the familiar cardboard, the worn edges, and the faint scent of cinnamon that clung to the paper. With some further rummaging in the pockets, I found his blood-red lighter, yet the back of it felt rougher than before; I had held it out for him several times, you see.

I flipped it, holding my breath--

Only to realize that Roman had carved our initials into the back of it.

After all the times he had made fun of me for doing that exact thing to a tree a while back, I could only huff at the irony as some people stepped over my body to get up the stairs. The thumping of my head only worsened, because honestly? In this state? It felt like an invitation. Roman could've literally carved I-know-you-stole-my-jacket-so-take-a-smoke-you-pretty-little-fucker, and it would've been the same thing. Or did the carvings make it more private? Should I maybe not be touching this at all?

... Fuck it.

I took one out, hands trembling like a damn idiot, and lit it. The flame flickered, tiny and fragile, and I stared at it like I was seeing fire for the first time.

Then, I inhaled--

And holy fucking shit, you wouldn't believe how awful it was. Sharp and spicy and bitter, and it clawed at my throat like it wanted to kill me. Maybe that's what Roman secretly wanted? To kill me with these fucking cigarettes? I coughed, choking on the smoke, but I didn't stop. I took another drag, then another, until my head was spinning and my chest felt tight, and I didn't care. I wanted to feel it-- the pain of it all. I wanted it to be physical, wanted it to kill me. I wanted it to set my lungs ablaze, and I wanted it to burn me up from the inside with slow and tortuous flames.

Pained, I sat there, legs pulled up against my chest, with the cigarette between my fingers like it belonged there, and I let the smoke sting my eyes, sting my lungs. Over and over, I told myself it was just the smoke that made me want to cry... nothing else.

And then, of course, of fucking course, I saw him.

Appearing into the hallway with a careless laugh, I watched Roman through the banister of the stairs, standing there like some kind of vision, like the universe just wanted to punish me for giving in to a sinful cigarette. He hadn't seen me-- not yet. But I couldn't take my eyes off him, couldn't stop the way my heart leapt and sank all at once. He looked beautiful. Terrible. The kind of beauty that ruins you. Dark hair, unruly shirt, his eyes flickering with something I couldn't read from across the room; and then I saw who he was with.

Jessica was there, breathlessly clinging to Roman. My Roman. It was clear that she revelled in the arm he had lazily draped over her shoulders, and she giggled as her hand clutched at his shirt like he was the best thing that had ever happened to her, like she was blessed to be getting even a sliver of his attention.

But Roman wasn't looking at her, not really.

No-- he was scanning the room like he was waiting for something, someone.

And when his eyes found mine, everything stilled. The music, the voices, the haze of smoke and bodies; all of it faded when our eyes locked.

I froze on the stairs, the cigarette hanging between my fingers-- I inhaled, slow and deep, trying not to fall apart, and exhaled like it could push him out of my system as I refused to look away.

But Roman didn't move. Not yet.

It was subtle-- the way his mouth curved, not quite a smile, not quite a sneer. For a second, I thought he was proud to see me smoking, finally, until the glint in his eyes turned sharp, predatory. He glanced at Jessica like he had forgotten she was there, and in that split second, I knew.

And you know what's gonna happen now, too, don't you?

Roman shifted, turning toward her, and his hand came up-- fingertips tracing her jaw, slow, almost lazy, just like he used to touch me. Jessica leaned in, her eyes fluttering closed, hungry for him, oblivious to who, what, she was keening against.

And then he kissed her, right there, right in front of me.

Deeply. Lovingly.

Roman's plush lips moved against hers, his hand tangled in her hair, and the sight of it was absolutely brutal-- it was the kind of kiss meant to calm someone, to soothe them, to show them you love them, and it was exactly how he used to kiss me. The sight of it nearly made me throw myself down the stairs, my body aching with the pain and betrayal of it all, but the kiss wasn't about her; it would never be about her.

Because the whole time, Roman's eyes stayed locked on me.

I couldn't look away, not when he commanded my attention in this way. He kissed her like he was punishing me, like this was the type of psychological warfare-discipline I needed to properly understand that I wanted him just as much as he wanted me. And all I could do was sit there like the pathetic fucking loser I was, the cigarette burning down to the filter, smoke stinging my eyes, my throat, my heart. I felt myself grab at the vial of his blood tucked away under my shirt; I couldn't look away, but I couldn't stand to watch it, because I wasn't just watching him destroy me-- I was letting him.

When Roman finally pulled back (after a millennia passed, surely), Jessica looked dazed, like she'd just realized she was the luckiest girl in the world, her lips swollen and red. But Roman didn't even glance at her-- his thumb brushed his own bottom lip, that wicked smirk carved into his face, and he stared at me like he knew exactly what he had done.

He wanted me broken-- broken enough to come running right back.

But I wasn't going to break this quickly.

It took everything that I had in me to get up, yet I somehow managed. With a shaky breath, and with my heart actively falling apart, I slid up along the wall for support, hoping I wouldn't fall right down the stairs-- I wasn't exactly making it easier for myself, because I was simultaneously throwing away my used cigarette and lighting a new one.

Wrapping myself further up in Roman's jacket, I let the cigarette hang loosely from my lip as I hoisted my arm up to raise my middle finger at him.

Roman chuckled, clearly having expected it, before responding with draping his arms around Jessica, cupping her face as she continued talking up at him, oblivious that he was having a stare-off with me. Roman dragged his fingers through her golden locks like he loved her above anyone else in the world, urging me to come down and fight for his attention, for him, for us--

But God, he was insufferable. I could see it all the way from here; he was mouthing come on.

Come here.

I know you want to.

... And I really wanted to, believe me.

But instead, I snorted, rolled my eyes, and shook my head-- and this turned out to be one of the worst ideas of the night. Shaking my head in this state, full of nicotine and rosé, was certainly not one of my brightest moments. With quick steps, I turned around on my heel and marched up the stairs, away from Roman and his fucked up antics as the back of my throat filled with acid. I couldn't throw up on the stairs, now, could I?

The first bathroom I found ended up being occupied, hence why I stormed into the kitchen on the second floor-- how massive was this house? I had never seen a kitchen on any floor but the first. In retaliation of what Jasmine had done to me earlier this year, I stumped my new cigarette on the wall and dragged it along the tapestry, wasting it. My thoughts were racing with how infuriating Jasmine's stupid house was, and how pissed she'd be when she saw how I had trashed her wall, but I pushed my way to the sink, hunching over it just in case I was about to barf up my whole left lung.

The kitchen was loud, hot, too hot, and filled with the thump of the party music bleeding in from the living room. It pounded through the walls, muffled the laughter around me, and people shouting over the music blended into a hum that made my temples ache-- I was two seconds away from bursting into tears.

Thankfully, my only source of comfort appeared behind me with a soothing hand on my back, reaching for my hair as I leaned over the sink; Letha. Her touch gave me a major deja vu from the night Roman and I first kissed, when she had held my hair back when I felt sick.

Roman and I-- kissing.

Roman... kissing.

Roman kissing Jessica.

I let myself gag at the memory as tears welled in my eyes. "There, there," Letha cooed, bending down to catch the look on my face. I wondered whether she smelled the cigarettes on me, or whether she had noticed the fact that I was wearing Roman's jacket. "What's got you like this, hm? You just disappeared, and now..." She leaned in, sniffing me. "Girl, you smell like a bombed whorehouse! Who have you been hanging around? Jack?"

The memory of Jack Edwards almost made me laugh-- I caught myself, fighting back the acid in my throat as I made sure the vial of Roman's blood was safely tucked beneath my shirt and out of Letha's sight. "I drank the whole bottle of rosé," I confessed.

"What? You had barely touched it the last time I saw you, how on earth did you manage?" Letha's laugh was teasing, her voice laced with that soft concern she always wore like perfume. Heavy. Suffocating. I wondered whether this was how it felt like to live in East Germany after the Second World War-- watched.

"I don't know," I muttered, placing my hand over the vial again. If I really focused, I could imagine that it was beating, like Roman's caged blood was still pumping to his heart. "I don't feel good."

Letha hummed, patting my back over and over. "You can take it just a little more, though, right...? I told Jack you felt bad about what happened on the bleachers the other day, and he still wants to have a chat with you!--"

"No!" I sucked in a sharp breath, gagging on the vomit threatening its way up my throat. Grabbing the counter to steady myself, I rocked back and forth to keep myself grounded.

Yet Letha pressed on as she pushed people away from the sink; this party was way too damn crowded. "But Jack could be the perfect distraction for you!" she insisted. "He's cute, he's kind, he's nothing like Roman, he's!--"

"I said no!" Jack hadn't told Letha that Roman and I had fucked; that was all that mattered to me. Nonetheless, I somehow managed to not throw up when I straightened up, taking deep breaths as I turned to her. "You're really fucking insistent, do you know that?"

Letha raised an eyebrow, setting her drink down with a soft clink. "Christ, what's wrong now?"

I didn't answer right away, hoping my offence would sift through my fingers. The question hung heavy and loaded in the air, too simple, too dismissive. The noise of the party pressed in from all sides, but here, with her, it felt like we were in a vacuum, the tension building by the second, and just for a moment, I had the oddest thought-- Letha would've been a good KGB agent. Her interrogation techniques could be polished, sure, but somewhere in that blonde girl was an intense, manipulative Russian.

... God, I was way too drunk.

With a sigh, I leaned back over the sink, trying to keep myself steady. "Guess I'm just tired, Letha--"

"Tired from what, smoking?" Letha tilted her head, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I can smell it on you, y'know? You smell like a Godfrey. Is this about Roman again?"

Something about her tone set my teeth on edge. I didn't answer, but my silence said enough; I was afraid I'd start barking if I opened my mouth.

"Are we really going back to this?" Letha huffed, softly, like she was doing me a favour, like she hadn't been the one dragging knives across my heart for weeks. "How many times do I have to tell you that you need to start taking active steps to get over him? It's like you never listen! My words go in one ear and out the other!"

I felt the first sparks of anger flare in my chest, hot and sudden; "You've told me a lot of things,"

"What's that supposed to mean?!--"

"It means," I hissed, gripping the counter so hard my knuckles were going white. "That I don't think you've ever really been honest with me. Not about him, not about anything."

Letha let out an offended laugh before her smile vanished-- the look on my face was unmistakeable, and it set her off. "I've always been honest with you, unlike what you have been with me!"

"Bullshit. Do you really not get it, or are you just pretending as always?"

Her brows knit together; "Pretending?"

"Yeah, pretending. Like how you pretended to support me, to be my friend, to have my back? I've let you do this for weeks!" My chest tightened, each word tumbling out sharper than the last. "God, Letha, you reacted like I murdered someone when I told you about Roman and I! I was honest with you, I fessed up, and you basically spat in my face!"

Every inch of Letha seemed to tighten. "You're drunk," she said through gritted teeth. "Calm down, please, before you throw up all over yourself!--"

"Oh, fuck you,"

"... What?!"

I had to suppress a grin; I had waited too long to say that.

Letha's mouth opened slightly, stunned. She glanced around the party, making sure no one was catching the verbal beating she was taking-- I knew she'd care if someone noticed. She'd care a lot. "You know why I reacted the way I did!" she hissed, lowering her voice as she got closer to my face. "He's been getting with my friends for ages, and you were getting yourself into something dangerous!--"

"No!" I cut her off, voice rising along with my nausea. "No, I told you about it because I trusted you! I didn't lie, I came clean to you, and fucking hell, Jesus treated Judas better than you treated me!--"

My yelling, along with the mix of rosé and cigarettes, finally pushed my body over the edge. Gagging, I threw myself over the sink to finally throw up; "O-Oh, fuck!--" The concoction that left me was beyond anything I had ever secreted. All my pain, all my anger, balled up into whatever the fuck it was that left my mouth.

Immediately, Letha's hands flew to my hair, holding it back as I threw up in Jasmine's sink. Despite our fight, despite the verbal abuse, she was still making sure I was alright-- it made my heart ache. Everything about this night was tearing at my heart, actually; images of Roman kissing Jessica flashed before my eyes as my body burned. Was I maybe about to have a heart attack? I was surely susceptible of one.

As I cried into the sink, sobbing with pain, Letha traced soothing patterns into my back, hushing me gently. "Shh... You'll be alright," she tried. "I know it feels like your world is ending, but you'll be alright. Someday, you won't even remember this."

My chest felt like it was caving in on itself. How could I ever forget any of this? How could I ever forget Roman?

"I'm sorry if I've been a bad friend," Letha continued, carefully stroking through my hair. "I hope you can forgive me... and I hope that we can someday forgive each other. Because at the end of all of this, through it all, all I ever wanted was for us to be friends again, and... for me to have someone in my court if everything goes down." Her words were small, fragile; "I just wanted my friend back."

I garnered the strength to look back at Letha, heart pounding, and before I could think it through, my drunken confession came tumbling out; "I slept with him,"

Letha's eyes rounded out as she slowly let go of my hair. "What?" she breathed.

"Yeah," My words were quiet as I pulled my shirt down to expose the hickey on the peak of my shoulder. "On the library floor, a week ago." I was sure she could spot the outline of the vial around my neck as I adjusted the jacket draped around me-- I could see in Letha's eyes that everything in her mind was actively falling apart.

And therefore, I delivered the final blow; "Can you forgive me now? Truly, Letha?"

The silence between us that followed was crushing, all-taking. It felt like I had been sucked into a plastic bag, with the air being drained with me stuck inside of it. Letha's lips parted, ready to speak, yet I saw that she couldn't find the right words to say.

But what followed would flip the narrative completely.

"Yeah... I can,"

My face ticked, and I felt my eye twitch as my words left me with my next breath; "What?" The music pounded through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless. Voices swelled, laughter spiked, but here, in the dim glow of the kitchen, everything felt suffocatingly small. My stomach was still twisting, nausea rolling in waves as I clutched the counter-- what was happening?

Letha's breath was unsteady, but when she spoke again, her voice was calm and unshaken. "I can forgive you," she repeated, like she was offering me the grandest admission of mercy.

I blinked at her, the words catching somewhere in my throat.

With a sigh, Letha brushed nonexistent dust off her dress before smoothing down her hair. "Because that's what friends do. We forgive, even when it hurts... And you're my best friend, so this time, I forgive you,"

Somewhere behind us, someone let out a shriek of laughter, bottles clinking in celebration. My head was spinning, my stomach churning from more than just the alcohol-- this felt wrong. Was this really happening?

Letha tilted her head slightly, watching me struggle. "I'm not going to pretend this doesn't hurt," she admitted, voice barely audible over the chaos outside the kitchen. "But I mean it. I just want you to be okay, and it's okay to... slip up, I guess. You're human, unlike a big part of him." She took a step back, giving me space-- she was the gracious one here, as always. "Because that's what friends do, right?" Her lips curved, not quite a smile. "We forgive. We put each other first."

The weight of her words settled in my chest in the most unpleasant way possible. "I'm supposed to tell him whether I want to give us another chance," I confessed. "Like... tonight. Right now."

Letha's hand found my back again, fingers light. I was scared she'd get mad, that she'd start cussing me out, but alas... nothing. "Okay, I see," she said, softer now. "I know you love him, but love doesn't change what he is. It doesn't change what he could do to you. Keep that in mind when you make your decision."

I swallowed hard, nausea curling tight inside me. Did I know? Did I really? My grip tightened around the counter; was I getting swayed?

Letha shook her head, her brows knitting together, like she hated to be the one saying this; "You don't have to prove anything. Not to him, not to me. You just... have to do what's right," She sighed, giving me one last careful look. "And I hope you know that I'll be here for you, no matter what."

... Fuck.

Roman's pack of cigarettes felt heavy in my pocket again, and I hated it. Hated the blood-red lighter in the other, next to the cold cider. Hated the way he had carved our initials into it like some twisted promise. But fate had a tight, deadly grip around me that I couldn't get out of-- I somehow managed to wry myself away from Letha and the kitchen with a red solo cup filled with water, downing it as I made my way down the stairs.

It was time to give Roman an answer-- the answer I didn't want to give him, the one I never thought I'd give him.

I shoved my way down through the crowd with my heart thumping in my chest. Was I gonna find Roman with Jessica? This was giving me an intense case of deja vu from all the times I had actually seen him with other girls, before we ever started dating. Was I gonna catch him making out with Jessica somewhere, even after he had sent me that excruciatingly long voice mail where he could only profess his love for me over and over?

But that wasn't love.

Him kissing Jessica in front of me like that-- that couldn't be love.

Letha had been right all along, hadn't she?

I pushed through the people dancing in the living room downstairs, trying to ignore the laughter and the small talk that surrounded me. It felt like a different world, one that had nothing to do with me right now. I was desperate for a moment of clarity, and the only person who could give me that was Roman... yet I didn't dare to find him. I didn't want to see him with Jessica. I couldn't bare the sight of it.

I shoved open the back door to the yard, and cold night air hit me like a slap. I welcomed it. The darkness out there was different from the party lights. It was real. Still. Empty.

I wasn't alone for long; I heard footsteps behind me, and the soft, deliberate crunching against the floor of the porch quickly become unmistakeable. The door closed shut as I leaned against the wood structure leading to the garden-- I knew who this was. Letting out a sigh, I reached for the cider in my pocket, cracking it open with a hiss despite knowing I shouldn't have any more drinks tonight.

The first sip was sharp, bitter, but it cut through the lump in my throat I got from knowing Roman was here with me, alone. I let my eyes follow him when he walked into sight, leaning against the wooden frame opposite me with that Godfrey nonchalance I was used to from him. His shirt had been tucked back in, his hair had been combed back into place-- something told me he had prepared to corner me since he watched me leave with his jacket.

Roman's eyes were so mesmerizing, so green. It was the most beautiful shade of green. It was such a shame to see them glossed over by that searching look in them, the exact look that gave away his hidden anxiety. Finally, he spoke, nodding to my drink with his usual charm; "I don't think you should be having more of those,"

It only made me clutch the cider harder, steading my footing on the porch so that I wouldn't tumble into the grass to my side. "Fuck off,"

"Oh, yeah? You wanna go there?"

"Yeah," After seeing him kissing Jessica like that? Sure.

Roman rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw to stop himself from arguing back right away. He looked so strict like this-- it was painfully arousing. He plucked the bottle from my grasp with ease, lifting it to his lips as if daring me to stop him; his smirk widened when I didn't.

Forfeiting my cider allowed me to dip my hand back into my pocket and fish out the lighter and the cigarettes. Roman's eyes widened as he watched me put two cigarettes in my mouth, about to light them both, before he snatched one of them from between my lips; "Careful, there," he said, throwing it away somewhere. "Don't get too excited. You'll go into nicotine shock."

"Don't care," I lit the one I had left, but not without glaring at him properly. "I already threw up tonight."

"You did?"

"Yeah,"

"Oh, you fragile thing," he cooed, amused. "You're going to ruin yourself like this."

I bet that some part of him would've loved to see that. I snorted; "Don't care,"

Roman's brows drew together when he realized I was completely serious, when he saw that my empty look wasn't wavering. "Yeah... I got that," He mumbled, shaking his head. "Jeez, you're dramatic tonight."

I let the silence stretch as I simply glared at him; if he thought this was me at my most dramatic, then he didn't know me at all.

Roman watched me, waiting for me to argue, to snap at him, to give him something to work with. When I didn't, his smirk faltered and his voice softened; "What is this, then, hm? You trying to prove a point?"

I inhaled deeply. "Nah, that's your way of doing this," The smoke burned, stung my throat, but I needed it, needed something to hold onto as my pulse pounded against my ribs; it made my pain about his kiss with Jessica physical. I needed it to be, so my brain wouldn't fry itself.

Roman sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Listen, I get it, alright? You're mad about Jessica. You wanna play hard to get, fine. But let's cut the bullshit, cause you're not going anywhere," He said it like it was a fact, like it was already decided-- "Not really."

He was so sure of it.

So sure of us.

I couldn't look at him anymore. I couldn't watch Roman fall apart all over again when he would realize what I had chosen, not when I was still so irrevocably angry with him. My gaze fell to the floor as I remained silent, waiting for it to dawn on him.

Roman's smirk wavered in the cold night air. He searched my face, waiting for the usual pattern-- for me to scoff, roll my eyes, shove him and say something biting but not final.

... I did none of those things.

His fingers twitched with nervous anticipation. "You're mad," he said, slower this time. "Say something. Humour me, yeah? Pretend that you actually love me, just for a second."

"Fuck you,"

"Baby, come on—"

"Don't say I don't love you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be standing here after you pulled that crap with Jessica just now! If I didn't love you, I would be inside running around to find Jack,"

Roman's green eyes widened— was it the shock of the threat, or the fact that he had made that threat a reality he had to fear? The party seemed so far away, and our life together felt even further away than that. "I'm sorry about Jessica," he breathed. "You know it's nothing personal, you know I can't stand her guts. I just thought you'd... I thought it would be good to show you what life's gonna be like if we don't end up together."

I almost chuckled-- did he really think that was a good plan? Did he really think that'd work? My eyes darted to the cigarette between my fingers while I wondered whether or not to torture myself with another drag. "You wanted to show me that you'll go back to sleeping with the cheerleaders while I become a chain-smoker?" I snarked. "Sounds like a wet dream of yours."

"That's not what I meant!—"

"What did you mean, then?!"

"I don't!— I don't want to keep talking about this!" Roman flailed his arms, frustrated; "It's not relevant, because we're not going to be apart, and because we're going to my place later and!-- and you're going to fall asleep next to me again, and your hair will be all over my pillow in the morning, and we're going to be okay!"

Oh, how I wanted us to be.

But the way he described it made me realize he might've not fully developed his consequential thinking. Did he really think that was a realistic end of this night after what he had done?

I felt tongue-tied by my shock, frozen like an icicle to Jasmine's stupid porch. What he had just described, was all I wanted. I wanted to go to Roman's place later, wanted to feel his arm around me as he pulled me closer in his slumber, and I wanted to lie around in bed while fighting sleep to get a few more minutes with him. Swallowing hard, I did my best to waft away the memories flashing before me, yet I soon realized it was an impossible task.

Roman's eyes rounded out with his next breath, his heart visibly breaking--

"Cause... you're choosing us, right?"

My mouth repeatedly opened and closed, stuck. How could I, after everything?

Meanwhile Roman's gaze flickered over my mine, searching for some confirmation, some reassurance that I was just being difficult, that I was still his-- it was a heartbreaking sight. It only made me grip the cigarette tighter, feeling the heat against my fingers. It was dying out, just as I was, just as we were.

Something cracked in Roman's expression. "You're serious," he breathed.

It broke me to realize that I was.

This had to end.

It had to.

Roman's face hardened as he took a step closer. The air between us thickened, turning heavy with something more than just tension-- something sharp, something raw. "You're seriously doing this?" he muttered, the disbelief in his tone prevailing. "After everything? After all of this time, you just-- we're done? Like that?"

My throat was too tight, and all the words got trapped inside. In a way, it felt like I was choking on everything said and unsaid.

Roman's hands were clenched, and the tension in his shoulders made him seem even taller, more imposing. A part of me was scared he'd pounce, that he'd be overcome by whatever upir instincts he had beneath his pretty appearance-- I didn't want to think about it. I was afraid I'd scream and run away if I did. To distract myself, I put my cigarette out on the ledge nearby; I didn't care about the state of Jasmine's house.

I wasn't sure whether my quiet motions read as nonchalance, but it seemed to shove Roman closer to the edge. "You're pushing me away, even after all my fucking reassurance? Even after your voicemail? I gave you everything, I showed you that I'm nothing to be scared of, and you're just... walking away like I'm nothing, over some kiss? Did you ever even love me?"

That question knocked the air out of me. "Some kiss?!"

"Yes!"

"Roman you've— you've proven yourself to be exactly who I feared you'd be all along!" I yelled. "Someone who hurts me!"

Desperate, Roman grabbed my arm, his grip tight, but not enough to hurt. His eyes searched mine, pleading-- "Come on," he begged, his voice shaking now. "I love you. I really fucking love you."

"No! Because you if truly did love me, you wouldn't be hurting me as a means to get back together with me! You're a child!" I snapped, finally giving in to my frustrations. Drunkenly trying to wry myself out of his grip, I felt my tears burn in my eyes, blurring my vision. "This has to end! You and I, it has to end! Letha's right, you will always want to fuck the cheerleaders, and you will always be a upir, and that will never change!--"

My breath stopped in my chest-- fuck.

Letha.

It was the first time I had verbally confirmed it, and I knew I had shot myself in the foot with it.

The name hung in the air like poison, and Roman looked like he'd been gutted by it.

He stared at me for a long, horrible moment, his eyes wide with disbelief. His grip loosened around my wrist; "You--" he started, his voice hoarse. "You're... serious? So that's it? You're throwing us away because of her? Because of the shit she's been feeding you to take revenge on me?!"

"It's not all because of her, Roman, but she's right! Letha is right that you'll always be dangerous, that you'll always have some underlying urges, and that you'll never be safe to be around!" My voice cracked as I said it; there it was, a cold, harsh truth I couldn't ignore anymore. "You said you'd never hurt me, but you're like a ticking fucking bomb in more aspects than I can count on my fingers!"

That was it; Roman snapped, his fist slamming into the wooden structure I was leaning against with a deafening crack, making it shake. "Bullshit!"

The boom of it made me flinch and squeak in terror, and instinctively, my hands shot out to push him away, shoving him with all the strength I could muster in my panicked state. "You're scaring me again!" I yelled, heaving for air. "Stop it! I beg you, just stop it!"

Stunned by his own outburst and its consequence, Roman allowed me to push him. He could've planted himself to his spot, could've resisted with no problem, but he took a step back for my comfort.

My heart was pounded against my ribs as tears filled my eyes. I couldn't have him barging at me like that, not when I was this hurt, scared, and drunk. A man that truly loved me wouldn't be doing this, right? My legs shook with the remnants of the heaviness of the conversation, and I heaved for air with terrified gasps as I decided to turn on my heel.

Immediately, Roman went into action-- "Wait, please!" His voice instinctively softened as he rummaged through his brain for the best course of action. "I'm sorry, okay?! I just don't want to lose you, I'm freaking out here!" He reached out for me, but it was too late.

I was already backing away, not looking back, not waiting for any more apologies— I knew I wouldn't believe them anymore.

Even the heaviness of Roman's jacket couldn't slow me down, not when I was this desperate to get away from my terrifying breakup-- the sound of music and chatter met me when I opened the door back to the house, but the pounding of my heart nearly drowned it all out.

Roman's voice followed me inside, each word an attempt to reel me back, but I wasn't turning around. I couldn't look at him; I couldn't do that to myself.

"Come on!" he yelled through the deafening noise. "Are we really doing this again?!"

I made my way through the living room, not looking for anything but an escape. The staircase loomed ahead, and without thinking, I shot up the stairs, taking them two at a time as my legs shook with adrenaline and fear. The air in the house felt suffocating now, the walls closing in as I reached the top of the stairs and darted down the hallway. This was not happening. This was not happening. I was too drunk for this-- were the walls actually moving? The more I looked at them, the more I had a feeling they were pulsing, inching closer to squeeze me to death.

Speaking of death-- Roman's footsteps grew closer, and his voice got louder; "Please, we can fix this! Just hear me out, please!—"

With my heart hammering in my chest, I glanced back to calculate how long I had until he caught up to me. Panicked, I grabbed at every room in the hallway, pushing past the people blocking my way as I desperately suppressed my tears from running down my cheeks.

This was not happening.

Roman dragged a hand through his hair, angry, desperate, as his long footsteps allowed him to chase me down with ease. "You're making a mistake!" he pleaded. "Let's talk it out, okay? Please, please, just listen, I love you, I'll calm down, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise!--"

With a scared squeak, I finally managed to force a door open; thank fuck. But before I could even step fully into the room, Roman's leg shot forward, forcing the door back, and in an instant, I realized there was no way I could keep him out-- I stumbled backward, eyes wide and frantic as I turned away from him to start planning my escape.

And then, my breath caught.

Because what I saw inside the room, was Letha half-naked on the bed--

With Peter beneath her.

My body froze for a split second before a scream ripped itself from my throat; I shrieked, mortified as I stumbled backwards.

What...

... The fuck?!

Letha and Peter scrambled to untangle themselves, their eyes widening with panic as they tried to hide the obvious. Peter's shirt was half undone, and Letha's hair was a mess, both of them completely caught off guard. The sight of them in that moment, exposed and guilty, made my chest tighten in a way I couldn't describe; I knew exactly what I had just walked in on.

And Roman, in a blur of motion, rushed forward-- his arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me to his chest with surprising force. One hand covered my eyes, blocking my view of the chaos I had just walked in on to shield me. "What the fuck?!" he barked, kicking the door shut behind us. "What's this?!"

My mind was actively melting against Roman's chest. It didn't help the situation that I could smell his usual cologne better than ever— God, I'd miss that smell in the coming years, wouldn't I?

But Peter and Letha were still scrambling, wide-eyed, and before they could say anything, Roman continued; "Are you out of your fucking minds?!"

Was this maybe just a drunk hallucination of sorts? Was this really happening? Letha and Peter? I should've listened to Jack earlier this week-- I should've listened to myself, because I had suspected something for a while, hadn't I?

Peter was the first one to talk, visibly panicking; "Ro, calm down!--"

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down! What the fuck are you doing with my cousin, man?!"

"Letha and I were just!--"

"Yeah, I see what you were just doing, you filthy piece of shit!"

"Dude, I'm sorry, I tried to tell you! Over and over, I swear, I tried to!--"

"Tell me what?! Is this not a one time thing? Is that what all your bullshit has been about?!" Roman yelled. "You calling me at prom and then not saying shit? All the times you've said you were busy when I knew you were just at home?" I could feel his chest raise with the air he forced inside his lungs-- a part of me was scared he'd faint from the anger. "You've been fucking my cousin?!"

"And you've fucked all the friends I've ever had!" Letha yelled back, protecting Peter while struggling to straighten her dress. Then she pointed to me, eyes drilling into Romans'; "I begged you not to touch her all those months ago too, but you didn't listen either!"

A sick laugh ripped from Roman's throat, and when he finally pulled his hand away from my face, I saw it; the pure, unfiltered rage in his expression. "You have got to be fucking kidding me!" He stepped forward, eyes locking onto Letha. "You have been in her ear for weeks-- weeks!" He jabbed a finger toward me, his voice breaking slightly. "You've been telling her to stay away from me, telling her I'm dangerous, that I'll hurt her, while you've been making my life a living hell for the same thing that you have been doing too all along!"

"Roman, I!--"

"You sick fuck!" he barked, and the sheer volume of it made me flinch.

My head was spinning to the point where I thought I'd throw up again. It felt like a painful vibration in the front of my brain, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I pressed my palm to my forehead. Without thinking, I put my free hand on Roman's arm, silently telling him to give me a second. "How long has this been going on?" I tried.

Peter and Letha anxiously glanced at one another, looking like they were both ready for the world to swallow them whole. "I don't--" Letha started.

"-- Don't know," Peter mumbled, looking guilty as ever. "Three months? Maybe four?-- Ouch!"

Letha smacked his arm, visibly upset that he had admitted that. "Stop talking! You've already stressed me out with wanting to tell Roman about us, you've done enough!"

"He deserves to know!" Peter tried. His brown eyes were big with disgrace; "I told you I didn't want to hide this, I told you he might understand!"

This kicked Roman into the next gear. "Understand...? Understand?!" The boom of his voice made Peter turn white, and Letha grabbed the sheets of the bed as though they would somehow shield her. "Dude, you're fucking my cousin! I could rip your fucking head off right now if I wanted to, and you best believe that I do!--"

In timely manner, I suddenly gagged, clasping a hand over my mouth; that thankfully shut everyone up for second. This was too much for one night.

"She's gonna throw up," Letha mumbled. In true Godfrey fashion, she used this as an opportunity to start slowly scooting toward the edge of the bed, hoping for an easy escape. "We need to get her back to the kitchen sink, and then we can all talk about this when she feels better in a few days!--"

My hand shot up into the air, holding my pointer up as I recovered.

It was a very clear sign of shut up.

Shut.

Up.

I straightened my back, feeling my eye twitch with newfound anger. "Is that what you meant earlier, Letha?" I asked, my voice frail and quiet, yet steady. "When you said you wanted to have someone in your court if everything went down? Have you... been setting everything up for this?"

The silence in the room was deafening.

Letha swallowed hard; "Look, I just--"

"Have you been breaking Roman and I up so that I'd be on your side?" I continued, cutting her off. "You knew that Peter was going to tell Roman about you two eventually. And when he'd find out, you... needed me to be your friend again so that you wouldn't be alone. Because this will... this will cost you everything, Letha."

I gagged again at the realization-- Roman's arm shot forward to catch me from tumbling. I held onto him, feeling the tears press on in my eyes. "You didn't want to be friends with me," I breathed, my words coming out as clear whispers. "You just needed someone that was isolated. I was vulnerable, I was scared, and I was perfect for your plan, wasn't I?"

Letha's lips parted, but no words came out. She was staring at me, the usual sharpness in her eyes replaced with something I had never seen before-- guilt. Real guilt. Not the performative, self-righteous kind she always weaponized, but something raw, something vulnerable.

I could barely stand to look at her.

"Oh my God," I whispered, turning away from the scene. "You planned all of this."

Letha shook her head, frantic. "No!-- I mean, not like that, I!--"

"You what? What now?!" Roman snapped, stepping closer to the bed. His presence was suffocating, his fury burning through the room like wildfire. "You're always talking about morals, and you're always acting like you're so much better than me, but look at what you've done! So tell me, Letha, where's your moral high ground now?"

Letha's breathing was ragged, frozen in the most mortifying moment of her life. She looked back at Peter like he could somehow save her, but he just rubbed his face, looking more done than ever. "This is so fucked..." he muttered under his breath, almost like he was annoyed.

Roman's attention snapped back to him in an instant. "Oh, you think this is fucked?" He let out a humorless laugh; "You didn't even have the fucking balls to tell me yourself! You knew that Letha's been making my life hell while you've been doing God knows what with her behind my back!"

"It's not that simple!" Peter barked, scooting forward on the bed to shield Letha and give her space to breathe. "We've-- I've been into Letha for longer than I can remember!"

Letha immediately protested, and her face turned more and more red by the second; "Stop talking, stop talking, I swear to God! I'm going to die of a heart attack at this rate!"

But her pleas didn't stop Peter. He was ready to fess up, just like he had been for a while, now. His shoulders slumped as his eyes locked with Roman's, getting ready to face his biggest secret. "Letha and I used to date, man. We used to be... together-together. She was my girlfriend for a while, but we broke up because we didn't want to hurt you, Ro, and because it was getting out of control. It was just too big of a secret to keep. But then you got together with her..." He nodded to me with a sigh. "And Letha said we were free to do whatever we pleased, and I gave in because..."

Peter turned to face Letha with a sweet shimmer in his eyes-- the type of look I recognized from all the times Roman had looked at me like that.

"Because I love her," Peter whispered.

I could only watch as Letha slowly dared to place her hand on top of his, and they exchanged a painfully sincere silent vow.

The cherry on top for this moment, was when I started loudly gagging-- not because of the sight of them all loved up, but because all the drama, the stress, the alcohol, and the new sensation of nicotine. Acid crawled up my throat as I buckled over, crouching down as I tried to keep my breaths deep and steady; my brain felt like it was shutting down, and probably because it was.

Roman immediately bent down, trying to get on my level, but I wafted him away. He wouldn't be able to comfort me no matter what he did, not after how I had seen him kiss Jessica to get back at me.

I couldn't believe that I hadn't seen the signs. I couldn't believe that I hadn't noticed them being together when it had been right in front of me, all this time. Gathering strength, I spoke; "You're not really going to study philosophy, are you?"

Peter's head darted down to my crouched-over body. "What?"

"When I met you at the library," I breathed. "All that time ago, when you were reading tons of books about guilt...and you said it was because you were going to study philosophy. You've been lying to Roman and I, just like we've been lying to you. After all this fucking time... Fucking hell. We're, like, the shittiest group of people ever."

Roman, who had frozen to his spot in a mixture of disgust and shock, couldn't watch it any longer. His silence was worse than shouting. His chest rose and fell in sharp bursts, his nails dug into his palm, he had bit his teeth together so hard that I feared they might crack. The air in the room had changed; it was suffocating, thick with tension that pressed into my skin.

Peter dared to break it. "Roman--"

"Shut up," he hissed. "Enough."

Peter snapped his mouth shut, looking like he had just walked into traffic. Letha was frozen, her hand still resting on Peter's like she was drawing strength from him.

It didn't matter anymore— I wanted to get out. I needed to get out. Now.

"Rome," I mumbled, voice thin. "I need--"

His head darted to me immediately, and his eyes; God, his eyes. They weren't just angry anymore... they were desperate. He was coming undone too.

Letha seized the opportunity once more. "She needs air," she said quickly, standing up like she could actually be of help. "Let's just-- let's all go back down and talk about this later, okay?"

"Later?" Roman let out a sharp, breathless huff. "You don't get to decide that! Do you really think I'm ever talking to any of you uncouth mongoloids again?"

Letha huffed at the names. "But we should really figure out everything later, because you're about to lose your shit!"

Roman took a threatening step forward, and Peter immediately shifted off the bed to step in front of Letha. It was so instinctive that I nearly threw up all over again-- he truly loved her, didn't he? After all this time?

"You're protecting her, dude?" Roman snarled, nodding to his cousin. "After everything?"

Peter's expression twisted with something I couldn't quite place. "I don't expect you to get it,"

"Oh, I get it, alright," With a smooth, final move, Roman bent down to help me stand up straight.

I swayed in my shoes, my breath catching in my throat to stop myself from immediately barfing all over the carpet. "I need air," I breathed. "This night has been too much. Too many lies, and one too many upirs-- because I assume he knows?"

Briefly, I glanced over at Peter after spilling the secret, but he only looked more guilty the longer my stare cut through into him. Of course he knew that Roman was a upir. Of course.

Everything blurred together, spinning too fast, and the weight of my decision pressed down on me so hard that I thought I'd collapse. The room was suffocating, the walls were closing in again, and the heat was unbearable-- I just needed to leave, I needed air, I needed space.

So I pushed away from Roman, staggering toward the door. "I can't-- I need to go,"

Enough was enough.

My whole life had fallen apart, and I couldn't do anything to save it. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I wrapped myself further up in Roman's heavy jacket as the world around me kept on swaying. I couldn't go home like this. I didn't even know how to get home.

How was I supposed to carry on after everything that had happened tonight?

But life is a tricky thing-- it doesn't let you go until it's your time. So my legs kept carrying me forward, down the driveway, past the parked cars, because I needed to go on. The streetlights above flickered, casting long shadows across the pavement; I barely registered where I was going, only that I needed to move. Somehow, my feet worked faster than my brain did-- I crossed streets without looking, stumbling over cracks in the sidewalk, the distant hum of the party fading behind me as I passed the houses in the neighbourhood.

All of this distracted from the heaviness of my heart.

I had lost everything.

But behind me, just far enough away that I couldn't hear his footsteps, Roman followed. My everything.

He didn't call out to me.

He didn't rush.

He just walked. With his hands tucked into the pocket of his pants, he walked like he was tethered to me by destiny.

And maybe he was? A big part of my believe it, but tonight? Tonight, I couldn't take it. I turned around to face him, my breath unsteady as all my emotions ravaged through my chest; "Could you please stop following me? I can't-- I can't think when you're near,"

Roman came to a slow halt. He swayed slightly, his shoulders slumped, his hair a mess over his face. He looked at me like he wasn't really seeing me at all, like he felt nothing and everything at the same time. Then, in a voice so quiet it barely carried, he muttered, "I just... I don't know what else to do,"

The admission hung between us, hollow and tired. He sounded so wrecked-- something cracked inside me at the sight of him, at the way his lips barely moved when he spoke, at the way he looked like he could fall apart with the wind. He had nothing left to give. Not to me, not to himself, nothing at all.

Looking at him any longer than this would kill me; I knew it. My heart trembled in my chest as my eyes welled with tears at the sight of him. "Me neither," I breathed, turning back around to continue my stride, too drunk to think clearly, too pained by the events of the night.

It didn't take Roman more than a beat to keep following me. What else could he do?

I didn't know where I was going, but a park came into view and seemed like the most peaceful option. The playground, the swings, the hollow quiet of a place meant for children, was abandoned at this hour-- my feet dragged through the wood chips as I made my way toward the middle of it, taking in the quiet of the landscape. Maybe this place would give us peace?

But Roman's steps came to an abrupt stop a few feet away. "Did you know?" he called out. "Are you sure you didn't know about Peter and Letha?"

I turned to look at him then, to really look at him. The streetlights cast shadows across his face— he was in the dark, where he certainly belonged. "I had no idea," I confessed. "I would've told you if I knew."

Roman let out a weak, bitter breath as he ran his fingers through his hair. "This is too much," he choked out. "This night-- I can't take any more of this. I feel like I just died."

A long silence stretched between us, thick with something neither of us could escape. There was no anger in his eyes now, no fire, just hollow emptiness, and I couldn't tell if that was worse. "I'm sorry about Peter," I tried, softening my eyes. "I always knew Letha was a bit of a cunt, but I would've never thought Peter would do something like this to you... I'm sorry."

Roman couldn't look at me anymore-- he raised his chin to look at the pair of crows sitting at the top of a nearby tree. It was at this moment that I saw the tears in his eyes, and the single one that rolled down his cheek. "I don't care about Peter," he breathed. "I don't care about him, I don't care about Letha, I-- I don't care about anything anymore."

My heart hammered in my chest— what?

"I feel at fault, because I should've known," Roman mumbled, his voice full of resignation as he rubbed away his tears with the back of his hand. "I should've known this would all fall apart... because it always does. People always leave. You always leave."

Fuck. "Roman," I whispered. "That's not—"

"I've been running after you, hoping that if I tried enough, if I did more, that you'd choose me... but you won't," he choked out, lower lip quivering. "Not even my best friend chose me. No one ever does, so... I'm done. I can't change what I am. I'll always be a upir, and if you can't trust that I'd rather die than hurt you, then there's nothing more I can do."

Roman turned away, and his shoulders slumped with the realization; at the end of the night, I wasn't the one who made the final decision about us-- it was him. His next breath seemed to be one of pained relief; "I can't keep doing this. Congratulations... You're free. I can't love you anymore. I won't love you anymore,"

He took a final, slow step back. "You're right... this has to end. It's over,"

And then, Roman Godfrey turned around to leave me drunk and alone in a park long past midnight.

... What?

Roman was done?

He couldn't love me anymore...?

I won't. I won't. I won't.

It echoed all over. It's over. I can't. I won't. But that's surely not how love works? Can someone just decide not to love someone?

My reaction to Roman leaving felt like a stolen breath-- painful, instant. It felt like my words clawed their way out of my mouth, forcing my jaw apart with one quick snap of bones, and exited with one quick, panicked yell; "Wait!"

It echoed through the park.

Over and over.

My hand laid over the vial of his blood which I kept around my neck, feeling it burn into my skin. "Roman, wait!"

... And it's around here that you'd assume this would end, right?

You're probably holding your breath, waiting for the moment when Roman's gonna turn around hear me out, tell me he loves me after all, that he's gonna forgive me and we'll live happily ever after, blah blah blah--

But this is not that kind of a story. I'm sorry that I made you believe it was.

Do you finally get why I've needed you along with me this time? Why I've been talking directly to you for once?

... No?

Fine. I'll be more clear. I'll show you the rest; I'll show you why.

My breath was stuck in my throat as I anticipated the sound of Roman's voice, the sound of his forgiveness coming out to soothe me. This was probably proper karmic retribution for me, sure, but could this really be the end?

Now that he was truly walking away, it hit me like a freight train; I didn't want it to end.

I didn't want to let him go, especially now that he was letting go of me.

It could work, right?

Every nerve in my body screamed at me to move, so I did. When I realized Roman wasn't turning back around, I choked down a brewing sob and hurried to keep up after him. "Rome, please!"

The nickname had him twitching; it was clear that he was upset about his choice, his forced resignation, and the doubt in his body was a consolation to my momentary panic. But in that moment, his head also turned to the side, and I saw something flicker in his eyes. In no time, completely out of the blue, Roman picked up his pace and started walking in a completely different direction like a dog in a fox-chase. His nose flared, his posture shifted-- he wasn't just walking away from me, he was sensing something.

What was happening?

"Wait!" My voice cracked, rising with panic. He wasn't stopping. He really wasn't stopping. "Stop it! Where are you going?!" Would we ever stop chasing each other? "Do you really expect me to be okay so easily after you kissed Jessica like that?! This is-- This is too much pressure, this is insane! Give me a minute to think at least, stop running!"

Roman's movements were so fast, so precise, that it felt like I was trying to catch up to a ghost. The distance between us seemed to stretch, and I could feel my limbs growing heavier with each step, the weight of my emotions and alcohol pulling me down. But I kept going, desperate, with my heart drumming in my ears.

And when Roman finally came to a halt in the outskirts of the park, I lunged forward; I tugged at the sleeve of his shirt, stumbling as I clung to him, forcing him to see me, to hear me. I let out a choked sob against him, desperate to not let go of the man that I loved. "Hear me out, okay?" I cried. "Just give me a second, I'm too drunk to think!"

But Roman didn't react.

Didn't look.

Because his gaze was frozen on something completely different.

There, tucked into one of the small, plastic playhouses, was a shape. A person.

Confused and broken, my gaze followed his. At first, it barely registered-- it was just someone that had passed out, curled up in the cramped space like a drunk trying to sleep it off. It was the kind of thing you might see after a party, someone who never made it home. That was normal; I didn't think much of it, confused by Roman's entrancement, until I recognized the pink clips in the person's hair.

That was Brooke Bluebell, wasn't it?

Fuck-- it was.

Then, I saw the way Roman's face shifted, the way his nostrils flared, the way he inhaled. It immediately made me step away from him and toward Brooke. Something cold crawled down my spine; "Roman?" I whispered, instantly feeling beyond nauseous once again. "Maybe we should?--"

His arm shot out, barring me from moving any closer. "Wait," he snapped, his voice coated with warning and concern.

The smell hit me a second later.

Coppery. Thick.

I gagged when I finally got a proper look, and I stumbled back as the truth crashed over me.

Brooke Bluebell wasn't sleeping.

She was laying in her own blood, her eyes wide open as her drained body looked frozen in a scream-- her intestines had been dragged out of her stomach, scattered along her torso, and her legs were gone, as though mauled from beneath.

Slowly, Roman turned to me, pupils dilated beyond normal; I knew his upir senses were screaming inside his head. "I thought the smell of blood was thicker because you were on your period or something," he breathed. "I thought-- fuck."

My mind was spinning beyond control, and only the sound of our heavy breathing filled the playground until the distant wail of sirens cut through the silence. I flinched, feeling my heart-rate spike; "Shit!-- Roman, we can't be here!" I grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away. "Please! You can't be exposed to this, we've gotta go!"

But Roman didn't move.

He wouldn't.

It was clear that he was trying to drown out whatever his upir senses were telling him to do, and I had no idea how I was supposed to reel him away from the edge.

The sirens howled closer, and the wind picked up, scattering the scent of blood into the cold night air.

... Brooke Bluebell was dead.

And we were about to be caught at the scene of her murder.

(a/n: AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!! WELCOME TO THE PLOT OF BOOK 2! I WILL BE MAKING AN ANNOUNCEMENT THIS WEEKEND, BUT BEFORE THAT--- THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH MY SWEETHEARTS FOR READING THIS FAR!!🥹🌸 I have been building towards the Letha and Peter reveal since the STARTTTT AHHHH FINALLY IT'S YOURS!!! FINALLY I CAN SHARE IT!!! MY HEART IS YOURS, AND SO IS MY WORK, SO THANK YOU<3333 AND I'M SORRY FOR THIS OH GOD???)

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@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium @pecxiebu

@mil88691 @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @katifefe @sn0wybowie-blog

@lilithskywalker @likecherriesinthespring @sadheartjellyfish @vadersangel

@shehangsbrightly @burningmiraclekingdom @dollforaswan @austinswhitewolf

@nico-velvet @shiiiii-okayyyy @theantagonistalwaysdies @blackbluerose666

@obexes @rosecoloureddudez @amoure020 @itsaeasykill

@succubustacy @carmillavalentine @scarledy @chaneloberlin62727

@belovedmoony @lokitargaryen @vienneviennaxx @ellie1725

@taintandviolent @sweatyconnoisseurstrawberry @amidthechaos

#roman godfrey #hemlock grove #roman godfrey x reader #x reader #bill skarsgård #fanfiction #oneshot #bill skarsgard #angst #fanfic #highschool!au #hemlock grove fanfiction #ready to be murdered for this chapter but EEK #SIUHIUHGIUHG PPL IN THIS STORY ARE SO SHITTY I CANNOT #this chapter was so damn experimental oh god #I hope y'all like it u have no idea

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moonchild1 · 2 years ago

Text

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅷ)

it's finally here! i've been working on this list for so long and honestly with the release of seven i had to reorganize it but it's finally ready soooo here's a list of the fics i've been reading lately, honestly i loved every single one of them and enjoyed it so much and i would sell my soul to get a chance to read them all over again, i've been exploring way more and reading genres i haven't read before so i am so excited to post this list, i've grown attached to alot of the series so i'm beyond excited seeing how they all play out but i hope you all connect and fall for the fics as well and experience that excitement too... remember to follow, like, comment and give lots of love to our talented writers they deserve so much love and support i mean look at all the magic they share with us!! and check out their masterlists too you might find your faves as well... as you know majority if not all the fics i rec contain smut so no minors allowed and also dni. i love that you guys have been sending me recs and questions i love hearing from you so please do keep sharing them and asking... stay happy and healthy everyone and enjoy the list till next time 💘🖤

a- angst s- smut f-fluff

series

employed by @personasintro f s a (ceo au slow burn e2l) updates on wattpad

seven days by @/kithtaehyung f s a (fuckboy jk roommate to lovers)

candles & flames by @taegularities f s a (enemies to lovers royal/regency au fuckboy jk)

ego season by @sparklingchim s (jock jk fwb brothers best friend college au)

the lucky one by @babystrcandy f s a (rivals/enemies to lovers childhood friends)

bangtan scouts by @hisunshiine f s a (fantasy au college au friends to lovers)

seven days by @/hisunshiine f s a (brothers best friend age gap fwb)

bloodline by @jjkeverlast s a (fwb au slow burn college au)

seven days a week by @/jjkeverlast f s a (fwb au college au)

dextrocardia by @jeonstudios f s a (officer au undercover fake marriage e2l)

drown for you by @/jeonstudios f s a (siren au)

as we were by @archivedkookie s a (infidelity au marriage au slow burn) ft yoongi

secret slut by @jeonsweetpea s (office au assistant jk)

moonstruck by @/jeonsweetpea s a (supernatural au slow burn e2l based on the vampire diaries and legacies)

angel’s trumpet by @hansolmates f a (idol au supernatural au)

timing by @spideyjimin f s a (dad jk past lovers au)

full stop by @1oserjk f a (divorce au parents au)

spicy n sweet by @thvhoe s a (boxer au established relationship)

the princess and the rockstar by @httpknjoon f a (rockstar au royalty au)

redamancy by @lesgetittkookie f s a (rich girl au s2l)

the ability to fathom by @hanniwrites f s a (brothers best friend idiots to lovers pining college au virgin au)

denial by @girlygguk f s a (idol au fwb brothers best friend)

safety net by @pradaksj f s a (boxer au e2l)

the forgotten spaces by @oddinary4bts f s a (slow burn e2l dancer au college au)

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a (threesome au) ft. boyfriend myg

over wine by @koocycle f s a (marriage au)

friday nights and take-out by @ahundredtimesover f s a (idol au s2l)

blackout by @jjungxkook f s (bf2l roommate college au)

the damsel & her knight by @jimilter f a (chaebol au ceo jk e2l)

at your service by @untaemedqueen f s a (escort au s2l ceo au)

pr disaster by @ughcore f s a (e2l actor au fake dating)

aphrodite in war by @jungblue f s a (frat boy au fake dating roommates e2l)

to err is to love by @jungkookschin f a (exes au dilf au ceo au)

live through this by @starshapedkookie s a (exes frenemies to lovers band au)

my love is here by @solemnreads f s a (unrequited love best friends slow burn)

clash by @matchagator f s a (neighbours slice of life e2l)

to what we were before, and all the things after by @orchidyoonkook f s a (prince jk s2l f2l slow burn college au)

one-shot

devoted to trouble by @/jeonsweetpea f s (spiderkook)

accidental roommates by @/jjkeverlast f s a (dilf au roommates to lover e2l)

calling you cool by @/kithtaehyung f s a (rockstar au s2l)

college nights, diner fights by @/hisunshiine f s a (e2l waiter au)

love is gone by @jeonbunnie s a (established relationship break up au)

the boy with galaxies in his eyes by @/oddinary4bts f s a (idol au fuckboy au fwb tattoo artist au)

no longer strangers by @soft4gguk f s (summer love strangers 2 lovers)

the hating game by @sxtaep s a (e2l lawyer au)

what if i love you too much? by @taleasnewastime f s a (single mom au neighbours to lovers)

jasmine by @/btssmutgalore f s (friends to lover shy jk) on ao3

please don’t go by @httpjungkookcom f a (spider kook childhood best friends)

boy's a Liar by @/thvhoe f s a (best friends bf e2l college au)

masked by @flymetothejoon s a (drummer jk s2l)

lonely hearts club by @joonbird s a (tattoo artist dystopian au)

this is how you fall in love by @jeonqkooks f s a (rockstar au established relationship)

freak-quency by @gukslut f s (rockstar au s2l)

boots by @/gukslut f s (rockstar au)

wake up call by @junghelioseok s (established relationship)

orange tulips by @kainks f s a (soulmate au reincarnation)

skirt chaser by 1kook s (f2l college au)

blueberry haze by @caelesjjk s (drummer au s2l)

cabin fever by @jeongi f s a (ex best friends unrequited love)

the millionaire and his lover by @gukyi f s a (f2l ceo au fake dating one sided love)

take what’s yours (and stay) by @kidguk f s a (f2l s2l pinning)

overtime by @cupofteaguk f s (ceo au boss au)

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

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sikayeto · 1 month ago

Text

[0000] Friday the 28th

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

[michael robinavitch x offspring/daughter reader]

[tw: descriptions of a violent assault]

[summary: robby hopes it's not too late]

[a/n: last part! i'm so excited for you guys to read it! thank you for all the support! if you want to talk about the series, please feel free to leave a message in my inbox or even a comment! enjoy <3]

[ source (CONTAINS SPOILERS) ]

MASTERLIST

[1] [2]

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

He wasn’t a stranger to shame. In fact, he would say that they’re very close acquaintances. Every time shame, guilt, or fear shows up in his life, he tries to bury it six feet deep. Because if you don’t bury those negative feelings, they end up either burying you or, worse, your patients. Do you know who brings up those feelings? The ghosts of the fucking dead that you let die.

Dr. Michael Robinavitch is no stranger to shame, guilt, or fear. Would love to be a stranger to the ghosts that haunt him. He tries his goddamn best every day to bury those feelings so that he doesn’t have to bury any more patients, people, or family. But the hole you dig can only bury so much grief.

When you live hand in hand, married to your grief, do you really live life? Are you experiencing moments in their full capacity? The conversations you have with the people close to you. The things that you do with or to them. There have to be moments where you’re so weighed down that you’re not present at all. That you don’t remember small things. Where you put your earbuds. Eating a meal. Promising to have dinner with your kid.

Fuck. He forgot that he was supposed to be home at 8 to have dinner with his kid. He said he would be there. How long has it been since he’s even seen or talked to them in person? Fuck, they live in the same fucking apartment.

Shame, guilt, and fear of a different kind bubble and boil in his chest cavity and enter his throat. The taste of vomit threatening to overtake his taste buds He forgot; he completely fucking forgot.

There are weights in the soles of his shoes, pulling him down with each step closer to home. Dread is ice cold in his veins, and he’s scared that his heart isn’t circulating enough in his system to poison him. Maybe that would be for the better.

What’s worse than the ghosts of the dead hanging on your shoulders? The disappointment of your child. Who’s alive and here? Alert, awake, blood pumping, air in their lungs. He’s so focused on the people who are already gone that he forgot his fucking kid.

They said they had news. What news? Good news? Bad news? Did they talk to him about it already? He can’t recall what their last conversation was even about. Was it about the cat? Fuck. FUCK. FUCK.

He’s so fucked.

He rubs both hands against his face in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure building behind his eyes and the increasing migraine at his temples.

Entering their apartment building, he jogs up a flight of stairs to get to his floor. The apartment at the end of the hallway is theirs. He tries to think of a justifiable reason for being 4 and a half hours late to dinner, with no text or call to warn them. Is there any reason he could give that he hasn’t already given before?

Unlocking the door, Reggie greets him with an escape attempt into the hallway. He quickly scoops up his frankly overweight cat before it could escape any further. Bringing Reggie up to his chest to rest on his shoulder. “Hey buddy,” he nervously greets.

Reggie was normally a docile, affectionate creature. But at times he would freak out on Robby and attack him for no reason. There are a few light scratch lines on his ankles from previous assassination attempts. But he never attacked you. Robby was just the spare human to Reggie.

He closes the door behind him and sets Reggie back down. The apartment is mostly dark, only lit by a singular light fixture above the dining room table. Upon closer inspection, Robby sees dinner. It’s untouched, most likely cold. Or is that just him?

Seeing the perfect dinner drops a boulder in his stomach. Acid more prominent on his tongue. He looks toward the door at the end of their hallway. Your bedroom door. He sees a soft light emanating from the open slit at the bottom of the door. He follows it to your door and knocks.

“Hey, honey,” there’s a tremble in his tone, “I’m so sorry I missed dinner. Time got away from me. And I know that’s not an excuse.”

There’s only silence from the other side of the door.

“You have every right to be mad at me; that’s totally understandable. But, can you please come out so that we can talk?”

Robby wonders if this is what they feel like. Being ignored.

A soft texture suddenly touching his leg makes Robby jump a little. He quickly looks for the source and finds Reggie.

Reggie, who jumps at the doorknob, turning it with his paws, and opening the door. It creaks open slightly, and he walks fluidly inside.

“What the fuck?” whispers a bewildered Robby. “Since when could you do that?”

He pushes the door wider ajar and scans your bedroom. Everything looks to be in its place. But you aren’t here.

Whatever fear of consequences Robby had earlier is replaced with absolute fucking horror.

- - -

“Hey kiddo, can you stay awake for me?” Jack knows fear like the back of his hand. It’s been an old friend for a majority of his life. He thought that he stopped letting it affect him years ago because he learned that if he let his fear control him, people would die. He knew that in this exact moment, if he let his fear spread through his body, he would be letting Robby’s kid die. “Someone get me a face mask with 10 litres of O2!”

After calling out his name, you became unresponsive. Jack’s never seen you so battered and bruised. “Let’s get them in a room STAT! And somebody get me a CT booked NOW!”

Getting your gurney into an open room, the team starts working on hooking you up to assess your vitals. Whitaker and Mel enter the room with a few nurses and one of the paramedics. Jack assesses you from head to toe and looks to Whitaker. “Alright, tell me what you see, Whitaker.”

Whitaker looks up at him surprised and nervously reports, “Uh, they have a laceration on their scalp with foreign material embedded inside; it looks like glass. Echymosis around the throat.”

“It looks like they were choked” goes unsaid but hangs in the air.

He asks aloud to the paramedic, “What was her GCS?”

“13, responsive to speech but confused, able to follow commands,” the paramedic replies.

Whitaker attempts to wake you up. “Hello? Can you wake up for us?” He tries to rub your sternum to get a reaction from you, but to no luck. “They’re unresponsive to pain.”

Jack grabs his penlight, opens your eyelids, and shines it into each of your eyes separately. “One pupil is bigger than the other. What does this tell us, Whitaker?”

“Cushing’s Triad. BP is 222/106, bradycardia, abnormal respirations, and blown pupils. They’re in late-stage ICP; there’s increasing pressure on the side with the bigger pupil.”

Jack nods at him, “Not bad. What could be causing the ICP, Dr. Whitaker? And what do we need to do to make sure it doesn’t continue to increase and kill our patient?”

“The head trauma could have caused blood to pool and clot, causing ischemic stroke, or they could just be having an intracranial hemorrhage. We won't know until they get a CT and the results come out. But we need to decrease ICP and try not to have it increase any more than it already is,” rambles off Whitaker.

“Mhm, solid call. I need IV mannitol and 50 mcg of fentanyl IM. Dr. King, bring the head of the bed up 30 degrees.”

“On it!” Mel says as she rushes over to readjust the head of the bed angle.

“Dr. King, in cases of increased cranial pressure, do we treat the large differential BP?” Jack casually asks.

“No, not until we get a CT first. Treating a BP more than 220 if it’s an ischemic stroke is a bad idea because collateral blood flow is dependent on blood pressure. If we suddenly try to lower her BP without knowing if it's an ischemic stroke, we could be reducing circulation and oxygen flow to the brain.”

One of the nurses finishes hanging a bag and says, “Mannitol is up, and 50 mcg of Fentanyl IM has been administered.”

The vital sign numbers on the screen start stabilizing, and the tension in the room dissipates. Jack looks to Mel and Whitaker. “You two, clean and stitch up their head laceration. Monitor them until CT is ready.”

Jack moves to leave the room and doesn’t look back to answer Mel when she asks, “Dr. Abbot, where are you going?”

“To let the family know”

- - -

Hi, you’ve reached my phone! Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you!

“Sweetie, this is Dad. I’m really worried about you. Please call me back as soon as you can.”

Hi, you’ve reached my phone! Leave a message and I’ll

“Honey, I know that you’re mad at me. But I need to know that you’re safe. Come home. Please.”

Hi, you’ve reached my ph-

“Please. Just please call me back. Send a text. Anything. Please, be safe.”

His phone rings, and his hands scramble to grab and answer it. His shoulders fall in disappointment when he sees Jack on the caller ID. He swipes right to answer the call.

“Jack?” he greets. “Now isn’t really a good time.”

“Robby, your kid is here.”

His whole world stops. The worst-case scenario has arrived. He feels his heart rate spike and his vessels constricting to raise his blood pressure. He whispers back, “I’ll be right there.”

- - -

He thinks he must have broken a few traffic laws with how fast and loose he drove to get to the emergency room in record time. His vision is a bit blurry, and he’s got a headache behind his eyes again. Rushing through the emergency room entrance, he ignores the greetings of familiar employees. Dark brown eyes darting left and right, trying to spot one Dr. Jack Abbot.

“Robby!” he hears his name being called out. A quick turn reveals the man of his focus, and he runs to his friend.

Jack sees a dangerous kind of look in Robby’s eyes. The look of a man who’s on the verge of losing everything. When Robby reaches him, he puts his hands on the sides of Robby’s upper arms to steady him. “Brother, I need you to calm down.”

Robby looks at Jack like he’s fucking insane. “Calm down? My kid’s missing from home, and you call me telling me they’re here. I’m not fucking calming down.”

“Well, if you don’t calm down, I’m not going to be able to let you see them, and you’re not going to listen to me about their current state.” Jack replies with raised eyebrows, trying to get his point through.

Robby thinks he glares so hard at Jack that he should have a hole in him by now. He relents and takes a few deep breaths with his eyes closed. Opens them and raises his own eyebrows at Jack, silently asking him to continue.

“They came in with something in their system, a head laceration with signs of trauma, and rapidly developing ICP. We gave them IV Mannitol and 50 mcg of IM Fentanyl. Vitals stabilized, and they got sent up to CT. CT showed brain hemorrhage, and they’re in surgery now to fix it.”

“What happened to them?”

Jack looks conflicted. Doesn’t know whether or not to tell Robby that someone did this to his child. Someone hurt them. And that they were treating the bastard just a few rooms over for a collapsed lung caused by a stab wound. So instead of bearing that burden, he shifts it. “The police want to talk to you about that, actually. Two detectives arrived after the ambulance and wanted to ask them a couple of questions after they get out of surgery and stabilize.”

He points at two figures dressed in business casual near the nursing station, having a discussion with two coffee cups in hand. Dana is with them, writing down a few things and nodding along at them.

Robby takes long strides over to them, desperate to get an answer. His incoming presence catches their attention, and they look toward him.

“Robby! What are you doing here?” Dana exclaims in surprise.

“Dr. Robinavitch? You’re the father of the victim?” the male detective asks.

“I am. What happened to my kid?”

“Your child was the most recent victim in a string of rape and murder cases my partner and I are investigating. We think that the man that attacked the victim is our culprit. His MO is drugging potential victims with a roofie, isolating them, and using blunt force trauma to knock them out. After getting them to an isolated location, he chokes them until they die from asphyxiation,” the female detective answers, her tone and face equally serious.

Robby is in disbelief. His kid was almost raped and murdered. All because he didn’t come home for dinner on time.

“Wait, you said that he rapes them too. That wasn’t included in your description of his MO,” Jack mentions.

The detectives look at each other awkwardly. “He rapes them posthumously.”

The statement sends out a shockwave of disgust between all of them. Dana looks at Robby, his face deathly pale. Hearing news that horrible things could have happened.

The male detective coughs, “Thankfully, it didn’t come to that. Security camera footage of the club bathroom shows that the victim regained consciousness while being choked and managed to grab a shard of glass and use it to stab the suspect on the side of his chest. Someone found them, called 911, and paramedics arrived. Your child is a very strong person, Dr. Robinavitch.”

“Yeah, they are,” Robby barely manages to choke out.

“We have to take our leave; please call us when they regain consciousness and are ready to make a statement,” states the female detective.

“Wait,” Robby interrupts. “You said that he was stabbed. Where is he now? PTMC is the closest hospital.”

The detectives didn’t say anything, and neither did Dana. But they looked. Just a small glance. At the room behind Robby. The curtains were drawn closed behind the glass doors. Robby saw, and he walked with a purpose.

“ROBBY, NO!” shouts Dana.

He opens the door with force, enters, and closes it behind him.

Inside the room is the man who hurt his child, with Langdon, Santos, and Ellis standing beside him. They abruptly pause what they’re doing to look at Robby’s sudden interruption. Santos’ hands mid-insertion of a chest tube catheter into the man’s pleural cavity.

Robby wonders if the man knew what it was like. To not be able to breathe. The oxygen he deprived his victims of, using his own hands. The hands that wrapped themselves around the delicate throat of his child and attempted to squeeze the life out of it. Wonders if the sensation of drowning in his own blood is a similar one.

Langdon breaks the silence.

“Hey boss, a little early for your shift. Did someone call in?”

Robby doesn’t avert his gaze from the man. Like a predator watching his prey.

“Boss?” Langdon asks, concerned. “You okay?”

“He assaulted my kid.”

Santos’ eyes widen and stare at the man who currently has a tube halfway in. Nobody moves or says anything. They stare at Robby, the man, and at each other.

“Robby,” Langdon starts, “you can’t be here.”

“He roofied them. Bashed their head in. And then choked them. He only stopped because they woke up and stabbed him with a glass shard.”

Silence had never been so loud.

Robby stared at the man a bit longer. Burns the image of his face into his memory. And leaves the way he came in.

The room stays silent, even after he leaves.

- - -

Jack and Dana find Robby on the roof. Standing at the edge, where Jack has stood himself before. They approach him slowly.

Robby doesn’t turn to look at them when he speaks. “They said they had good news to tell me during dinner. I lost track of time and got home 2 hours late. There was a beautiful dinner on the dining table. Ham, mashed potatoes, all the works. It was cold. I thought they were angry at me for missing dinner and locked themselves into their room. But they weren’t there. They were missing. If I were home on time. If I just came home like I was supposed to. They would’ve never gone to the club and gotten attacked.”

Dana looks at him sadly and softly protests, “Robby, you don’t know that.”

He laughs, “Maybe not. But this was the last straw for them, you know. Too many missed meals. Plans I’ve cancelled because, apparently, I would rather be at work than spend time with my child. Who I now notice knows absolutely nothing about it. And you know why? Because I treat this place more like my kid than I ever did them. I put more of my time and effort into this place than my own goddamn child. Look where that’s got me. I’m going to lose them. I’m going to lose them before I even know them, and it’s my own fucking fault.”

“So you’re giving up?” Jack asks. “Just like that? Is this your attitude when they wake up after surgery? Feeling sorry for yourself?”

Robby doesn’t answer him.

“Get over yourself, Robinavitch!” Jack shouts. “They need you! They’ve always needed you! Don’t give up hope on them. That’s the worst thing you can do!”

Robby finally turned his head to shout back at Jack, “What am I supposed to do then?!”

“Be there for them, you fucking idiot!”

Realization hits Robby like a semi-truck.

“That’s all they ever wanted.”

Tears flood Robby’s eyes and flood down his cheeks. He lets out a sob. Dana and Jack rush to get him off the ledge of the hospital roof, and they bring Robby into their arms.

- - -

You look so fragile, lying there in the hospital bed. The only other time he’s seen you this fragile was when you were just born. Small baby, soft, delicate, new to the world, its horrors and beauties. And when your mom left, you stopped being so fragile. Stop asking him to patch up your scraped knees. Asking him to help with homework. Asking him for anything. He can’t say that a small part of him wasn’t grateful that you were an easy child to raise. Never had a rebellious phase as a teen. Top grades in every class. Robby never had to worry about you. He just got used to you not needing him anymore. At some point, he thought he needed you more. You took care of the house. Made sure he ate and took care of himself. Always there for him, but never for you.

He walks up to your sleeping form. Pulls up the chair by the wall towards your bedside and sits down. He places a hand against your face and rubs your cheek. You look so fragile.

He grasps your hand in his.

His vision is blurred, this time because of tears. The exhaustion from his shift and the day’s events catches up to him, and fatigue overtakes him. His eyelids feel heavy and slowly start to close. He lays his head down on the hospital bed, next to his child’s body. Dreaming of the future. Their future, together.

“I’m sorry, honey. I’m so, so sorry for everything. I’m sorry for being such a shitty dad to you. For all the time together I missed. I’m sorry for never reaching out to you and checking in to see if you’re okay. You checked in on me. Thank you for that. For everything you did, I ever took for granted. I’m going to need you to do one last thing for me, okay? I need you to wake up. I need you to open your eyes, because I’m not ready to lose you yet. We still have so much time together, and I promise I’m going to be there for you from now on. For everything. I love you, sweetie. So please. Stay with me. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

He doesn’t know how much time passed while he slept. But he feels a soft, repetitive sensation on his hand. He forces his eyes to crack open, and he lifts his head from the mattress.

He sees you, eyes drowsy but open. Elation overtakes him.

Your eyes connect.

“Hi, Dad.”

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------

comment, comment, comment, comment 🙏

#michael robinavitch x daughter! reader #dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch x offspring! reader #michael robinavitch x reader #the pitt 2025 #the pitt hbo #kid fic #technically college kid fic

197 notes · View notes

notapradagurl7 · 3 months ago

Text

Between Us.

Black Fem! ReaderBoss! x Aaron PierreManager! & Kelvin Harrison Jr.Assistant!

Summary: You were a diligent boss in the corporate workplace with a need for change in your life, but you didn't know that Kelvin and Aaron would be the excitement and love you needed. They invited you to their house, but one of them has an idea that they think you would open to. Not only becoming with your best friends and lovers Kelvin and Aaron.

Warnings: fluff, smut, threesome, piv, heavy dirty talk, angst, head(fem + male receiving) dominant duo, gossip in the workplace, filth, words of affirmations, sex toy, bondage, handjobs, teasing, a secret poly relationship, jealousy, nipple play, drama, internet rumors, mention of taboo topic, fictional, not real, anxiety attack, slight British slang, kinky, BDSM.

A/N: I was extremely anxious about this mini-series since I hadn't come across any poly fics featuring these cuties, so I chose to create one. I'm focusing on adding some nastiness to these stories. Don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open! ❤️🫡

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo

@becauseimswagman1

@superheroprincess22 @pocketsizedpanther @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @kaylalb @yassbishimvintage @blackgrlmagic

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest- @tforpresz

@uniqueoutlierblog

@dxddykenn @dpennedit

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@westside-rot @mymindisneverhere

@mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert

@5starr-staciii @pickuptruck01 @henneseyhoe @irlvampfairy

@browngirldominion @madamedantes

@chaoticcoffeequeen

@valarghoulis @jazziejax

@saturnville

@enchantedillumination

@mogul93

@uzumaki-rebellion

———-

Another day, another paycheck for you, but it's the same sleek and tidy office you occupy every day of the week, including late nights and weekends. The macaroon cream and cocoa decoration evoked thoughts of candy, enticing your sweet cravings with its elegant touch.

The couch by the wall, a small bookshelf next to it, and a round lamp overhead, as soft jazz played from your phone, the office transformed into a routine you had fallen into and were struggling to escape.

You were typing on your computer about a new day on Fridays, which were casual Fridays. It wasn't much thought to it for you but you were tired of wearing the same tailored blazers with matching pants, and heels or loafers. You wanted to be comfortable for once.

The office became mundane and often in the halls you heard your co-workers in the break room say you were pensive, a hard ass, too strict and mean because of the way you managed the team every day.

They didn't understand the pressure you faced, the expectations from higher-ups who were also black men and black women, the constant need to prove yourself as a capable leader in a male-dominated environment.

As you typed the rest of your report, you felt a familiar tug of anxiety knotting in your stomach. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that tonight was different.

You would deem yourself as straightforward, you weren't the type of woman to sugarcoat shit for anyone, not even friends or family.

Maybe they were right—-nope, they weren't right, you just needed to change something about yourself or life, leaving your career as a successful real estate agent? Nope, you've made too much money to quit now and leave it to someone who didn’t know what they were doing.

How about a new lover? Possibly two lovers in your routine, but who? You always pondered on having a poly relationship with two handsome men, but those who looked at you sideways were always so quick to judge.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed twice on your polished brown table. Your eyes flickered at the screen.

Kelvin: Hey, I know you're busy right now but would like to come over to our house for dinner? Aaron is cooking.

It was only a thought, you didn't tell anyone about it. You kept it to yourself.

Your heart raised at the thought of seeing Kelvin and Aaron. They had become your confidants, not just friends but in many ways. Smiling a schoolgirl who has finally been asked out by her crush, similar to those cheesy rom-coms you liked.

You: Sure! What time should come over?

The grey message bubble popped up and then a few moments later, Kelvin replied back to you.

Kelvin: How about 8? Dress casually, we want you to feel comfortable.

You smiled at his message, grateful for their thoughtfulness. Doing a little dance in your seat, grinning from ear to ear.

You knew from day one you started working at your mother’s building that your co-workers or employees weren't friends. Except for Kelvin and Aaron.

But it wasn't until certain two handsome men walked into your workplace to apply for the positions as the manager and assistant, Aaron and Kelvin.

Your breath hitched when you thought of the two men, they were so handsome, attentive and funny. You spend weekend evenings with them at the diner, their house, or your house for a chat.

“Just relax, you got this,” you encourage yourself.

A knock on the door broke your thoughts quickly, you sighed then realized it was your receptionist Julia, who shot you a knowing smile, you mirrored the same action and chuckled.

Her deep brown skin glowed under the white fluorescent lights, complemented by a V-line sky-blue dress and matching heels, while her curly pixie haircut highlighted her oval face.

Jamila was not only your receptionist, but your best friend in the office, the only person you spoke to about Kelvin and Aaron. She understood your situation completely.

“How are you, boss lady? Are you for your late-night home date with two of the finest men in the office?” Jamila exclaimed with a grin, doing a cute shimmy dance toward you.

You hushed the woman, then glanced at the door and did a little dance with her, in case anyone was eavesdropping before closing the door behind her.

“Shh! Jamila, you are the only one and my friend in this place who knows. We have to keep this between us or I'm losing my job,” you whispered with a soft tone.

Jamila waved you off with an eye roll, “Girl, please They wish they would fire the greatest boss in the fucking company, guess what? They can't, because you have power, use it. And I'm sure that Kelvin and Aaron feel the same about you as well,” she said, her tone comforting and reassuring.

She was definitely correct; they couldn't let you go or they’d have to face your mother. You were convinced she had done the same things you were doing—falling for her assistant and taking that vacation. There were MANY trips she took ahead, and still kept her job.

“Yeah, you're right, I'm ready to get both of them, ugh. But how will they react?” you asked nervously.

Jamila placed her hands on your shoulders, making you face her. “Listen to me, you are smart, funny and beautiful, they would be so lucky to have you,”

She resumed speaking with reassurance, “And give me all the details on the threesomes you have, let me know if they both cum at the same time just from looking at you,”

You bursting out in laughter from her, Jamila was unhinged at a crazy time. You covered your mouth and shook her head, “Okay, okay I will,”

The clock struck five, and you quickly packed your things, excitement, bubbling in your chest. It was as if she could sense the shift beneath the surface, even though she did know.

As you stepped out into the cool evening air, you felt a sense of freedom and liberation wash over you. The burdens of the day lifting from your shoulders.

It took time for you to open up to people due to personal trauma with men, and girlfriends who treated you badly, your love life was complicated, it was like a maze with no clear exit.

You were reluctant to share your feelings with anyone following yet another difficult partner, as past partners had told you and you were overwhelming or too intricate.

Yet something about Aaron and Kelvin, they had a way of pulling those layers back once you got to know them, they are shown a brotherhood that was unbreakable.

And the size difference was pretty to you, given that you were only 5’5 and they were taller than you.

You always wondered what it would to be in a poly relationship with two men, others may spew judgment at you, calling you a whore and this, or that.

That throuple dynamic among black people was usually celebrated when it came to men, like they can come and go as they pleased when they had multiple women.

But they were different from the rest, they felt like a safe haven in a world that often felt suffocating, they were funny, charming and made your days so much better. What you love about this poly relationship with Kelvin and Aaron was combining your love languages.

Aaron’s love language was quality time and physical touch, while yours was words of affirmation, physical touch and Kelvin’s love language was all of them in one.

Originally it was your idea to be in a poly relationship, it all started on a late sweet night in your house, and he talked about how you wanted to explore the boundaries of love and connection. The conversation flowed effortlessly, like chocolate dripping from a spoon, sweet and warm.

The idea sparked a flame within you; the thought of loving and being loved by two incredible men sent shivers down your spine. It felt liberated yet so taboo to talk about, especially among black people.

As soon as your car arrived in the driveway, your anxiety began to fade, and you quickly exited the vehicle, shut the door, and rushed inside your home to get ready.

Once inside, You settled for a soft oversized sweater and joggers, wanting to feel comfortable. Crimson red applied to your fingernails and toenails. A watch on your wrist and your box braids pulled back in a ponytail. Gorgeous.

Your phone buzzed on the table, it was from Kelvin.

Kelvin: Hey, I'm coming to pick you up, are you ready beautiful?

Your thumbs tapped across the keyboard on the screen, sending him a text back.

You: I'm ready, on my way over.

Before you walked toward your front door, a knock made you flinch and you looked through the peephole, it was Kelvin. The door swung open.

You chuckled once your eyes locked with his, “Boy, I know that you didn't come over here to rush me, I'm done dressing up, baby”

“I didn't come here to rush you, Y/N. I told you that I'd pick you up at 8, and I wanted to walk with you to our house,” Kelvin said, his tone love-dovey and serious.

Your cheeks grew hot with warmth and embarrassment, stepping out of your house, locking the door behind yourself. “Oh, umm..thank you. What a gentleman, so what are we having for dinner tonight?”

Kelvin chucked with a smile before looking back in your eyes, “Spaghetti with parmesan cheese, and garlic bread. Aaron is cooking tonight,”

As you stood beside him, you began to walk with him, the night sky decorated with stars hovering over both of you.

“You do know that I live right next door right?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to walk with you, Aaron and I suggested it so I can be here to protect you,” He said, smiling.

Your heart fluttered at his kind words, there was something about the way he looked at you, making you feel cherished and safe.

“So, how was your day?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence as you strolled through the quiet neighborhood.

“Same old, same old,” he replied, glancing sideways at you. “Just trying to keep everything together at the office. But I couldn’t stop thinking about tonight.”

The porch light illuminated both of your melanated skin, peeking at the modest one-story house with its pretty walls of light blue as both of you walked toward the door and Kelvin opened it for you. Feeling the tension rise as you thanked him.

As you walked inside the house, the scent of garlic, and herbs wafting through the air. The spacious living room is filled with decor of butterscotch caramel and macaroon cream white, and the large circle shaped lamp glistens, casting a bright glow over you. Their house was so tidy and smelled fresh of citrus and something sweet.

Aaron was in the kitchen, his back turned to you, focusing on the three grey plastic plates of spaghetti sprinkled with basil leaf and parmesan cheese, a loaf of garlic bread on the side. Carefully pouring red wine into the glasses, you can tell he put in extra effort to make this night special tonight, and your heart swelled with affection.

“Hello, gorgeous, how are you? You look beautiful tonight,” he called out, turning to face you with a radiant smile. He made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Aaron! I'm doing great. I can say the same about you,” you replied, your voice laced with admiration.

He wore a fitted black tee shirt that clung to his toned physique, pants hugged around his legs.

He approached you, pulling you into a warm embrace that felt like a blanket. The way he held you, firm yet gentle, remained of the safety you felt when you were with both him and Kelvin.

You missed this part of a relationship, the love they give right back to you, the way they would love harder, give affection.

The three of you ate delicious dinner, sipped red wine and laughed all night long, sharing stories of your childhoods and first jobs, embarrassing moments at work in the office.

“Wait, what happened?” Aaron asked, chuckling with you.

“I thought that the new intern was going to help with my presentation, but she ended up uploading the wrong flies to the projector during the meeting!” You recounted, tears of laughter streaming down your face.

Kelvin and Aaron erupted into laughter, their voices blending together in a sweet-sounding melody that through your ears. All that pressure and anxiety was gone.

“Honestly, you handled it like a champ, I would've just shut down the meeting and ran out of there,” Kelvin said, wiping a tear from his eye.

“You’re too funny Kelvin, you know that Y/N tries her best out there, she even managed to keep us in line,” Aaron chimed in.

“You guys make it easy, besides I couldn't have done it without the greatest assistants in the world,” you replied with a grin.

The last remnants of spaghetti were wiped from the plates and the clattering of cutlery came to a halt, the three of you leaned back on the couch, satisfied and full.

Kelvin broke the silence, his voice audible and thoughtful. “You know, we’ve been thinking about our earlier conversations about…us” his eyes darted between you and Aaron, gauging your reaction.

Your breath hitched from the intense eye contact between you, Aaron and Kelvin. You leaned forward, “What do you mean? Kelvin?”

He licked his soft, plump lips, collecting thoughts as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “I’ve been serious about the idea of a poly relationship, I think it could work for us,”

You felt a rush of emotions flowed through you—-surprise, excitement, and a piece of apprehension. You had been contemplating this possibly for a while, but hearing it out loud made your heart race.

“I mean, we already have a strong connection with you, and we care for you and each other deeply, and I think adding that layer of intimacy could be beautiful. We wouldn't have to hide how we feel about you, it would be real.” Kelvin said, his tone earnest.

Aaron shifted in his seat, his brows furrowing slightly. He was always the quiet yet cautious one, weighing on every option before making a decision. “It’s not that I'm against it, but it's a big step, I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page.

You nodded, understanding the concern that lingered. “Actually, I've thought about it too, Aaron. I worry about the same things. But I also believe we can do this,”

Aaron chimed in, smiling slightly. His shoulders relaxed as he absorbed your words. “Well, that's good. As long as we establish guidelines, rules and a safe word.”

Words caught in your throat, you fantasized about this so many times. You could imagine what pleasure you experience.

“Then it’s settled, we’re in a poly relationship.”

You almost couldn't believe that it was actually happening but now, these two were all yours. “Okay, how about we celebrate this moment with a good night of pleasure hm?”

The boldness from you almost shocked them but you'd been waiting for this moment. They exchanged sinful grins and then slid off their shirts while you gently slid off your joggers and sweater, you were already getting hot and you turned on the fan. The cool air satisfied your hot flashes.

“Sit,” Aaron demanded with his voice raising an octave, his hand patting his lap, you quickly scooted over the couch and seated yourself on his thighs, they were thick and the candlelight flickered on his light fawn skin.

“May we touch you, love?” Aaron asked in your ear.

“Yes, please. Touch me, fuck me.”

You were without a bra, though you did wear panties beneath your outfit. Your finger delicately traced the detailed tattoo on Aaron’s right arm, each design telling its own story. Kelvin knelt before you, gazing up with a mischievous smile, until Aaron's hands gripped the back of your knees and parted your legs for Kelvin.

Kelvin’s fingers intertwined with the waistband of your panties, sliding them off with ease. His soft lips began to tease your clitoris, while his fingers pumped the slickness between your folds. You let out a wild moan, your legs trembling in Aaron’s firm grasp. “Let him eat, Y/N,” he whispered, trailing kisses behind your ear.

Aaron’s strong hands enveloped your breasts, kneading them in a rhythmic motion, his fingers pinching your nipples as they became erect. “Please...Kelvin...Aaron…” you whimpered softly, your hips moving in sync with Kelvin’s tongue as it traced tantalizing patterns on your sensitive folds.

“But I love the way you taste; it’s even better than I imagined,” Kelvin groaned, slurping your essence. He suckled and kissed your slick folds as if they were your own lips.

Aaron retrieved handcuffs and a vibrator from the dresser, a sly grin spreading across his face. You nodded in anticipation. “Did you order these for me?” you asked, your voice quivering with excitement while you moaned from the escalating sensations. “Focus on him,” Aaron spoke up in a demanding deep tone, His fingers brushed against your wrists, setting off a spark that coursed through your body.

As Aaron fastened the fluffy handcuffs around your wrists, a shiver ran down your spine. A storm brewed in Kelvin’s gaze, his eyes narrowing as you moaned from the pressure of his thick fingers curling inside you.

You instinctively tried to close your legs from the pleasure, but Kelvin held them apart. “What about me? I’m not finished with you yet, baby,” he urged, his intent clear.

You felt something in the pit of your gut, a familiar knot getting tighter and tighter. Hinting toward your climax, You felt your juices trickling down her thighs, and you rolled your hips against his fingers, rubbing your thighs together in desperation.

"Please, I need to cum," you whined, tears streaming down your cheeks. But Kelvin’s eyes fixed on your face as you contorted in pleasure. A wave crashed over into a tiny pool.

"Why should you cum when you've been giving Aaron some attention sweetheart?" Kelvin said, his breath hot against her skin. "You need to learn your lesson first."

Her essence coated his fingers as it soaked onto the sheets, and Aaron’s palm smacked your ass roughly, causing his woman to let out a squeal. Plunged his fingers deeper into you, hitting your G-spot with precision. “Fuck! Fuck! Kel!”

With a wicked grin, he finally relented. "You can come now beautiful," he purred.

The knot in your stomach tightened, and you came hard. Aaron and Kelvin watched you come intensely, their eyes locked on you, they fell in love all over again, your release was explosive, and the couch was soaked with your juices. She trembled, gasping for air, as the mind-blowing orgasm left you shaken.

Panting, you collapsed back against Aaron’s chiseled chest, your body spent and sated. Aaron removed the handcuffs, gently stroking your wrists as she came down from your high. Kissing your wrist as if were a queen in a fairytale. “Are you okay?”

She nodded weakly, a lazy smile spreading across her face. “Y-yeah, that was amazing..”

“Now that you had your punishment, how about taking both of us?”

“Both of you? I'm not into the backdoor shit guys,” You shot back, your brows raising.

The men shook their heads, “Neither are we, but we gonna do it only in the front, let’s get a safe word?” Aaron asked in gentleness.

“Pineapple?” you quickly spoke up, but you wanted to turn up the heat.

“Good girl,” they said together.

"C-can you get the vibrator from the dresser?" You panted, your chest heaving up and down. He hummed in reply before he kissed your cheek.

Kelvin grabbed the vibrator from inside the dresser with a sly smirk across his face, "You ready? He asked, his tone deepened. Kelvin and Aaron pulled off their pants and boxers, allowing them to hit the carpet.

You looked up at him, your eyes hazy with desire. "Yes," you breathed. "I'm ready."

He turned on the vibrator, its low buzz filling the room as he positioned it against your clit. You moaned, arching your back off the bed, "Ouuu! F-fuckk!" you sobbed, your nails sunk into his triceps as you left a trail of marks on his skin, hissing through his teeth, he rolled the vibrator around your throbbing clit. The heat and vibration sent shockwaves, making your jolt and shake weakly, a testament to your pleasure.

"I think you deserve a reward." Aaron cooed, his hand cupping her cheek, kissing her passionately. Aaron lined his dick towards your wet pussy and gradually slid in between your swollen folds, relishing the sensation of your tight walls clenching around him. He gritted his teeth tight, blood drew from his lush lip, each thrust left him breathless. “So fucking..tight,” He grunted, the tightness of you made him almost nut.

"Damn...this pussy is so pretty and perfect, just like you," he murmured, planting a tender kiss on her temple as he began to move his hips in a slow, but forceful rhythm. She shivered from the familiar feeling of him inside of her, each other brought to the edge, waves crashed into a multitude, electricity tingling.

Aaron continued to thrust into you as Kelvin deftly maneuvered the vibrator around your sensitive clit, eliciting moans of pleasure from you. It made him feel left out, until you decided for Kelvin, “W-wait, stop, Aaron..can you pull out? I need Kelvin..”

Kelvin’s smirk curled on his face and he quickly passed the vibrator to Aaron which he didn't mind at all, he chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Looks like I’m not the only one who wants to take charge tonight,” he said, pulling out slowly, relishing the way your body reacted to his departure.

Kelvin wasted no time, positioning himself between your slick legs, “Fuck, Ready for me?” he asked, his voice deep and sultry, making your clit jump from that, kissing down on your lip.

“Yes, I'm ready,” you said, nodding eagerly, your body craving the fullness he promised.

As Kelvin pushed inside you, you gasped and moaned loudly, feeling the delicious stretch. “Fuck…you’re filling me…up..” you groaned, moving your hips with the man, feeling his hips touch with yours, setting a fast pace that made your toes curl.

Aaron, still holding the vibrator, watched intently, his breath hitching at the sight before him. “You’re doing amazing taking him, love,” he encouraged, turning the vibrator back on and placing it against your clit once more.

Kelvin quickened his thrusts, your nails dug into his back, and threw your head back onto the pillow. With practiced ease, you took every inch of him. "You're so beautiful takin' this dick," Kelvin groaned deeply, biting his lips. Aaron adjusted the vibrator to a faster pace, circling it over her swollen clit, eliciting loud, raspy screams from you.

Despite the ache and swelling, your pussy clenched and creamed around him, bringing her closer to release. Tears welled in your eyes, but you pushed through, determined to reach her peak.

Aaron leaned down, kissing you passionately as he turned the vibrator up a notch. “You’re going to come again, aren’t you?” he whispered against your lips, watching the pleasure build in your expression.

“Yes! I can’t hold it!” you cried out, your body thrumming with anticipation. The heat coiled within you, tightening with every thrust from Kelvin and the relentless buzz against your sensitive clit.

“Let go, baby. We’ve got you,” Aaron urged, his voice smooth and soothing, anchoring you as you teetered on the edge.

The skin-to-skin slapping filled the room, your body jerked as you cried out, your orgasm exploding through your body. “Make a fucking mess,” he groaned out, kissing on your neck.

He withdrew from her and collapsed on top of you, they both panted for breath, their bodies slick with sweat and used-up passion. Kelvin rolled off her, pulling his lover into his arms as they both lay there. "You good?," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm good, baby," you replied, snuggling into his embrace. Kelvin slid off the bed as he scooped his you up in his arms bridal style, sauntering into the bathroom and kissing her cheek, while Aaron cleaned up the mess, she shook weakly in his arms, "Let's run you a bath baby girl." he added, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies, she giggled at her husband.

————-

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navybrat817 · 4 months ago

Note

Hiiii Navy- how is our biker Bucky? I'm excited that his reader is a nurse because I am also a nurse...!

I'm glad you're excited, and I may have to get more of your insight as this goes on. And how he's doing...

Thinking About You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky's thinking about you after meeting you.

Word Count: Over 500

Warnings: Mix of fluff and dirty thoughts, love at first sight, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'll try to post more of this AU once more. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo and divider by the incredible @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s thinking about your beautiful eyes and smile, but how you’re much more than a pretty face and how you must really be some sort of angel. You were a nurse, after all. Nurses helped provide comfort, protection, and care to others. You helped people heal. And, fuck, do you look good in white.

He’s thinking about how you listened to him when he talked. You were actually interested in his writing and the bar. He hoped you’d stop by at some point. Maybe he could convince you to stay after closing so the two of you could have the place to yourself. He’d even share some of his writing with you.

He’s thinking about how your eyes will light up when he brings the club to the blood drive tomorrow. At least, he hopes they’ll light up and that you don’t be afraid. His brothers could come across as intimidating from a first glance, but they were all good guys and the drive was for a good cause. You also didn’t seem put off that he was a biker.

He’s thinking about what an idiot he is for not asking for your number, and how he should’ve gone after you when you left. If he had your number right now, he’d message you just to say hi. He wasn’t leaving the drive tomorrow without asking for it.

He’s thinking about what your past relationships were like. How did your exes treat you? He’ll treat you well. Why didn’t the relationships last? Did anyone break your trust? If someone hurt you he’ll take the pain away. If the pain is no longer there he’ll do his best to help you should it surface unexpectedly.

He’s thinking about how he wants to take care of you, how he wants to learn your love language, and earn your trust. He wants to be your friend and have you confide in him, to learn your fears so he can protect you from them, and to learn how to make you smile again when you’re feeling down or hurt.

He’s thinking about how he wants to confide in you, too. To be vulnerable and open. It isn’t easy to let people in, but you make it seem effortless for him. He wants you to see every side of himself, every shadow, and tell you every story about every scar and tattoo.

He’s thinking about you as he lays in bed, fisting his cock, imagining the sounds you’d make as you lay beneath him. Or on top of him. How you’ll melt on his tongue. How blissed out you’d look when you fall apart. He knows you’ll feel like heaven when he’s inside you if you ever let him get that far.

He’s thinking about you post orgasm when he catches his breath. It’s a little scary that he already wants you to be his girl, and he refuses to believe it’s just infatuation. It’s something deeper. And if you give him a chance, he’ll make sure you never regret it.

I guess we can consider this part of Ficlet Friday? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

#navybrat writes #ficlet friday #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #x reader #sebastian stan characters #mumbles411

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jsabimi · 3 months ago

Text

. . . still trying

. . . synopsis: when an aspiring painter - who knows how to love deeply, but has been left hesitant to trust again - gets to lead a pastries-and-painting night at your best friend's café every friday night, meets you - a fiercely independent lawyer's assistant who has no interest in romance - he knows he's ready to give love another try. you, however, have seen love fall apart one too many times and are determined to keep your heart out of his reach.

what you didn't expect was his quiet patience, the way he sees past your walls without ever pushing. you can't tell if this would be another love story that ends in heartbreak or if it could be the real deal for you.

. . . pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader(f)

. . . genre: strangers to lovers, non-idol au, social media au, super slow burn, fluff, angst, pining, suggestive - so minors dni!

. . . warnings: heartbreak, talks of past toxic relationships, reader struggles with emotions, will be using images in this fic of 2023 hyunjin because..2023 hyunjin got me weak and i wont get over it, mentions of alcohol, mentions of house parties, mentions of sex - other warnings will be listed on individual chapters.

. . . status: ongoing

. . . author's note: haha~! i bet you guys thought i was gone, but no, i was just working on this - an idea i've had for a while (like... months lmao) but haven't been able to actually sit down and put it together until a couple weeks ago. this is still a work in progress, but the outline of the story is pretty much all set! just need to finish a few layouts of the chapters. but i'm really excited for this story and hope you all enjoy it and the journey of my first actual smau series! xoxo

. . . taglist!: okay after popular demand, i've decided to make a taglist. but i will only tag those who agree to reblog, comment or leave feedback. that's all i ask. and yes, i will be able to see who does or doesn't and have no problem removing those who don't. as a writer feedback and reblogs are our life line. if you want to be on the taglist please either comment on the post or send an ask to be added! again, thanks for the support and love for this story - it's my first born smau and i'm proud of her 🥹

. . . I N D E X

. 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚜

. 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜

. 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

. 𝚌𝚑 𝟹

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moonchild9350 · 6 months ago

Text

Whispers of Beauty

summary: you find your way again after a horrible breakup with the help of poetry and Hyunjin.

pairing: Hyunjin x fab!reader

genre: strangers to lovers au (slow burn), angst, fluff, smut-18+ MDNI

word count: 6.8k

warnings: time jumps, nipple play, clit play, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, multiple orgasms, cum tasting, finger sucking

notes: reminiscing of hyunjin as always. this will also probably be it until i finish the series i'm working on lol. the poems used in this fic are Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal by Tennyson and She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron if you'd like to read them in full!

if you enjoyed, please consider a like, reblog, or comment as it keeps me motivated ♡

dividers by @saradika-graphics

please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost my work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

It was another busy day at the cafe, people coming in to order their usuals as they made their way to work, school, or elsewhere. You lose yourself in the art of making their drinks, the familiar task giving you a sense of comfort.

You definitely needed comfort after a recent breakup, the wounds so fresh, you could still feel your heart rip in two at just the thought. You were in need of some healing and your friend, Ember, knew just the activity that will help.

Every Friday, the cafe you worked at hosted poetry night where others can spend their evenings sharing their original works or reciting works of some of poetry’s greatest authors.

You loved poetry, loved getting lost in the words of those who walked this earth centuries before you. The works always incited emotion, your eyes welling up in tears, or scowling in anger at the passion of the writers.

You also loved listening to others, as they poured their heart out through words, weaving their stories through happy narratives or euphemisms.

While you were dating your ex, your passion for poetry dimmed, finding no comfort from the words on the page as your love for the stories was berated and considered worthless.

You sat aside your poems in exchange for the thought of love, burying the feeling of hopelessness deep within your heart.

Now that you were free, you started engaging in poetry reading again, getting lost in the words once more, your smile returning as you found some comfort from them. Ember suggested you start going to poetry nights, so you could get out of the house, meet new people, and of course engage in your ultimate love.

At first, you weren’t keen on the idea, having not gone to an event like this in years, but overtime you changed your mind, deciding it was exactly what you needed.

So you busied yourself in your work, counting down the hours until the end of your shift and when you could take a seat and enjoy the entertainment of the night.

Time passed, people came, drinks were made. Before you knew it, you were clocking out, taking off your apron and setting it on your hook. You fixed your outfit in the bathroom, then went in search of your friend, hoping she had already arrived.

You smiled as you spotted Ember, sitting on a couch in the corner. You walked over to her, embracing in a hug before sitting down with a sigh, happy with the relief of getting off your aching legs.

“I’m so excited you agreed to do this!” Ember exclaimed, pulling you close so she could hug you.

“Same, it’s been too long,” you replied, wrapping your arms around your friend.

She playfully ruffled your hair, laughing as you protested. “Seems like it’ll be a good turn out.”

You scanned the room, noticing that the tables and couches were filling in, friends, couples, and singles alike settling in for a good night.

“Yeah, the turn-out is usually good,” you replied.

You listened to the chatter, your mind wandering elsewhere in the cozy atmosphere. You’re not sure how much time passed as you stared into space, your mind running nonstop.

“Y/n! It’s about to start!” Ember said as she elbowed you in the side.

You shook your head to come back to the present. The lights were dim, a small spotlight shining on a spot in the center of the room. You assumed this would be where those who wanted to share their thoughts would sit, as there was a small wooden stool present, along with a microphone.

The crowd quieted, their attention focused on your boss who walked to the mic. She tapped on the head before clearing her throat.

“Welcome to poetry night! Tonight we will listen to some talented people recite some of literature’s greatest works. So sit back and let the words flow through your soul.”

You clapped as she left the makeshift stage, the first performer taking their place. You listened to poem after poem, your mind opening up and your heart beating at the promise of the words that were flowing through the small space.

Before you knew it, the night was almost over, the event coming to a close. You clapped as the last performer took to the stage, your eyes widening at the sight of him.

He was dressed in a black sweater and jeans, the fit loose on his slim body. His brown hair framed his face perfectly, the strands hanging down to his neck. His eyes were a beautiful shade of chocolate brown and seemed to shine with the spotlight that shone from above. His lips were large and plush and a pretty shade of pink that had you blushing.

He sat on the stool and pulled the mic closer and adjusted it. He cleared his throat as he looked out into the audience, his eyes roaming those gathered as if he was summoning their attention.

The extra step was moot however as everyone’s eyes were trained on him, awaiting the beautiful words that would fall from his lips.

You watched with bated breath as he opened his mouth and began to speak:

“Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font. The firefly wakens; waken thou with me.”

As the man spoke, you felt like you were transported to another time, as a princess professes her love for the prince. The words that he spoke were smooth like velvet, yet full of emotion.

His eyes gazed upon the crowd, his eyes catching person after person as he recited the poem, making sure to captivate the audience. Eventually, his eyes made it to you and remained there as he continued to speak.

You couldn’t help but watch his lips as they opened and closed, as he continued his prose. You could feel your face heat up, as you dragged your eyes to his, holding his strong gaze.

He finished in a beat, the crowd erupting in cheers as he stood up and bowed slightly, before returning to his seat. He wasn’t sitting far from you as he was only a few tables away, his back turned toward you.

As the night went on, you couldn’t help but stare at the man, your mind still reeling after that performance. You wondered who he was as you haven’t seen him around the cafe. Ember tapped you on the thigh, causing you to turn and look at her.

You rolled your eyes as she wriggled her eyebrows at noticing how you were staring at the mystery man.

Once the lights came back up, people milled around chatting, discussing the choices of the night. You noticed a crowd of people surrounding the mystery man, mainly women gushing at how well he did.

“I’ll be right back,” you told Ember, who was speaking with some random person that was sitting next to you.

“Sure thing babe,” she replied, a sly smile forming on her face.

You walked over toward the man, determined to speak to him before the night ended. You definitely wanted to compliment him on his choice of work as Tennyson was one of your favorite authors.

You waited patiently as the flock of groupies gushed to him about irrelevant things, probably trying to see who could get his number first. You smirked at their desperation, watching as he tried to disentangle himself from a girl who was trying to hug him.

Chuckling, you decided to help him out.

“Eh mm,” you said, raising your eyebrow at the girls who turned around to see who had interrupted them.

“Others are waiting to speak with the gentleman, just wanted to let you know.”

The girls looked at you with disdain, their eyes narrowed as they hesitated to move. When you opened your mouth to say more, they scrambled away, muttering under their breaths about how they were rudely interrupted.

Shaking your head, you approached the beautiful man and smiled.

“Hi, great job tonight. Tennyson huh?” You said, watching as the man blushed and tucked his head down.

“Thank you, uh…yeah. He’s one of my favorites.”

“Really mine too! I’m y/n,” you responded, holding your hand out to shake his hand.

His eyes lit up at your words, excitement etched on his face. “Ah! Another fan, that makes my heart sing y/n. I’m Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin reached his hand to you, wrapping his fingers around yours and giving you a firm handshake. You couldn’t help but think how soft his hands were, albeit a little sweaty.

“I’d love to chat with you more about him…or poetry in general,” you said dropping your hand.

“Of course, of course, that would be excellent!” Hyunjin said as he nodded, his hair falling into his face at the movement.

“Great, I actually work here, so maybe we can meet-up after one of my shifts?”

“Sounds perfect,” he said, fiddling with his sleeves.

You smiled at how nervous he was, thinking he was pretty cute. “I’ll see you around then,” you said with a wave of your hand.

You turned on your heels and walked away, making your way back to Ember. You couldn’t miss the sly grin she had plastered on her face.

“Well, well, well, someone’s been busy,” she teased, giving you a wink.

“No, no, I just wanted to speak with him and see if he wanted to talk more about Tennyson. Turns out that’s his favorite poet too.”

“Mmhmm, sure whatever you say babe. Did you get his name?” Ember asked.

“Hyunjin,” you said simply, a warm feeling spreading throughout your body as you said his name.

“Well, may great things be in store for you two,” Ember said, as she genuinely smiled at you.

-- --

Weeks passed with you filling your days with work. You picked up long shifts which left you exhausted by the end of the day, causing you to tread home and immediately fall into bed out of exhaustion.

You saw Ember sporadically over the weeks on your few off days, which was a nice change of pace.

You haven’t seen Hyunjin, as he hasn’t stopped by. You pretty much gave up on the idea of the man showing up, chalking it up to that he forgot or wasn’t interested….not that he owed you anything anyway.

Despite this, a part of you hoped he would have stopped by, wanting to discuss with him his love for literature. You were fascinated with him, remembering how velvety his voice sounded as he brought centuries old words to life.

You were working the register one day, taking people’s orders, which you didn’t mind as most of your customers were regulars and really kind. However, the sight of a particular person made you gasp, your eyes widening at the sight of them.

The man sauntered over, a smirk on his face as he approached the counter.

“Well, well, hi love,” he said.

You felt bile rise-up at his words, your mind swirling with a million thoughts.

“What are you doing here?”

Your ex, Elias chucked and ran a hand through his hair.

“Can’t I just stop by for some coffee and to see my favorite girl?”

“I’m not your girl,” you sneered, your fists balling up at your side.

“Oh come on love, don’t be like that. I’ll take you back you know. Just be a good girl and be mine again.”

You were furious, heat rising to your face as your blood boiled. You could feel your hands shake, wanting to punch this man in front of you.

You were about to respond when another person stepped behind Elias, his eyes narrowed.

You looked up and recognized Hyunjin, your heart skipping at a beat at the sight of him.

“You’re holding up the line,” Hyunjin said, crossing his arms and adapting a threatening stance.

“I’m almost done,” Elias said as he continued to focus on you.

You swallowed as you saw Hyunjin’s face turn red, his fists balling up.

“Is he bothering you y/n?” Hyunjin asked you, concern in his eyes.

You merely shook your head yes, scared your voice would betray you as you were close to tears.

“Leave.”

Hyunjin spat the word out with so much venom, even you were taken aback. He seemed so sweet and innocent, but it seemed he had a tough side as well.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Elias said, looking between you two. “Good luck man she’s a piece of work.”

At that, Elias turned on his heels and walked away, walking out into the crowded sidewalk. You found yourself letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as your eyes landed on Hyunjin.

Hyunjin let out a huff and then uncrossed his arms, as he walked up to the counter. His eyes searched yours, making sure you were ok.

“Hi,” you sheepishly replied as you fiddled with your apron.

“Hi,” Hyunjin replied as he smiled, clearly happy you were ok.

“So, can I get you anything?” You asked as you smirked.

“Hmmm, I was thinking we could have that chat. Sorry I haven’t stopped by sooner, work has been busy.”

At his words, you felt your heart flutter within your chest, your excitement rising at the prospect of spending time with him. You tried to control yourself before responding, willing your heart to slow.

“I’d love that. I get off at 8.”

Hyunjin smiled, elated that you accepted his proposal. “Perfect, how about I swing by and pick you up then?”

“Sure,” you said as you tried not to bounce on your feet.

“It’s a date then. Oh, and I guess while I’m here, might as well get an iced americano!”

You chuckled and began to ring him up, a smile on your face all the while. When you selected his cup to write his name down, you drew a cute smiley face, adding little stars around the face. You smiled at him as you set the cup down.

“See you tonight y/n,” he said as he turned to walk to the pick-up area.

Your mind was reeling, your heart pounding in your chest. Hyunjin called it a date, an actual date. Is it a date? Did he just ask you out? Or was he just saying that to be cheeky?

The rest of the day, the thought was on your mind, causing you to make a few mistakes as you helped out customers. As the time for your shift to end got closer, you began to feel nervous and jittery, as you weren’t able to stand still.

Hyunjin was right on time, a huge smile on his face as he walked in looking like an absolute angel. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, not realizing you were staring until he called your name.

Apologizing profusely, you clocked out and grabbed your stuff, rushing to stand by his side.

“Where to?” You asked, looking up into his eyes.

“Well, I thought we could take a walk around the city? Chat a little and enjoy the night atmosphere?”

A walk after a long day sounded perfect.

“I love that, let’s do it!”

Hyunjin grinned and bowed, ushering you ahead. You giggled and blushed as he opened the door for you, the little bell tinkling lightly against the glass.

You stepped out into the night air, the crispness a nice welcome after being in the cafe all day. You both joined the many others making their way down the sidewalk.

“So you like poetry?” Hyunjin asked in a serious tone as he stared straight ahead.

“Mmhmm, I do. I studied English literature back in university. I don’t know, it’s just something about reading the words of those from long before you that creates such an intimate look into their life and thoughts.”

“I get it. I’ve been studying and reading poetry a few years now. It’s a comfort to me.” Hyunjin said, as he contemplated his thoughts.

“How long have you been reciting poetry?” You asked, turning to look at him.

Hyunjin paused in thought as he considered your question. “I’d probably say the last three years or so.”

You hummed in response, impressed with his dedication. You both were silent for a moment, the sound of crickets chirping through the night, their song almost melancholic.

“So…” Hyunjin began, “who uh…who was the guy that was harassing you earlier? Of course you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to! I was just curious…” he continued, his voice trailing off.

You let out a heavy sigh. You deserved to give him an answer, especially since he came to your aid.

“That was my ex, Elias. We broke up a few months back. He um…I caught him with another girl in our bed…”

Your mood fell at the thought, remembering the day when you came home, exhausted from your long day at work. You were excited to see your boyfriend and have a relaxing evening…that is until you found out he wasn’t exactly excited to see you as he was between some other girl’s legs.

You recounted to Hyunjin how Elias tried to deny the affair, even though you saw the proof with your own eyes, but you didn’t give him a chance to grovel, ending the relationship that very night.

Hyunjin listened intently, his heart breaking at the fact that someone who was supposed to love you betrayed you instead. He definitely thought you deserved better as you seemed intelligent and kind and not to mention beautiful.

“I’m sorry y/n… he seems like an asshole to be honest.” He replied as he balled his hands into a fist at the thought of the sleaze bag he encountered earlier in the day.

“I recognize that now. There were definitely signs leading up to that night, but I guess I chose to ignore them.”

Hyunjin nodded, “I get it. You were blindsided by what you thought was a loving relationship.”

You hummed in agreement. You were blinded and so stupid, but Elias was in the past. You didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

“You deserve better y/n, just thought I’d mention it.”

You felt the corner of your eyes prickle with tears, threatening to spill over at any moment. Your chest felt heavy at his way of consoling you.

You did deserve better, and you believe that’s why his betrayal hurt so much. Your heart was healing, one day at a time. You could feel another stitch find its way within you at his words, Hyunjin’s company soothing. Somehow at that feeling, you knew you would be ok, and could continue to heal with the help of Hyunjin.

Your mind wandered to the man next to you. Maybe it was fate that you met him that night. If it wasn’t for your friend pushing you out of your comfort zone, you’d have never stayed to listen to others pour their heart out in prose and ultimately never met Hyunjin and his beautiful soul.

Months have passed and you are now dating Hyunjin. Each day is full of bliss as he showers you with love, making sure you feel like a queen.

He is picking you up after work and taking you to dinner as today is your birthday. You tried asking where he was going to take you, but he kept saying it’s a surprise.

You were excited to say the least at the thought of the night to come. Your shift couldn’t end soon enough, as the clock struck six, your boss letting you go early in honor of the special day.

Your face lit up at the sound of the bell, Hyunjin walking into the cafe. He looked handsome in his jeans and sweater, his hair styled neatly.

“Hi angel! Ready?” He asked, stopping at the counter.

“Yep! Let me clock out and grab my bag.”

Hyunjin chuckled as he watched you scramble around, picking up your bag and hurrying to his side.

“Now I’m ready,” you smiled, looking up at your boyfriend.

Hyunjin grinned and took your hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he brought the back of your hand to his lips for a kiss.

Even though you’ve been dating for a few months now, you still blushed at his antics, the novelty never wearing off.

“Then let’s go, angel.”

Hyunjin led you out of the cafe and outside. You looked around your surroundings, your eyes widening at every restaurant you passed, wondering if it would be the one.

However, you passed building after building, not stopping at any of them.

Hyunjin could sense your curiosity, as he gave your hand a squeeze. “We’re almost there, see?” He asked, pointing to a building in the distance.

You took notice of a brick building that seemed empty. You were confused as he guided you to the door, the corridor beyond eerie looking.

“Where are we going?” You asked as you were more than nervous at this point.

You trusted Hyunjin but a part of you was a little scared, not knowing what awaited you within the building.

“Don’t worry angel, let’s keep moving, just one more flight of stairs,” Hyunjin cooed, as you both walked up a flight of stairs.

At the top of the staircase there was a large door, the metal frame seeming unwelcoming. Hyunjin stopped in front of it and grasped the handle while looking at you with a bright smile on his face.

“Ready?” He asked.

You nodded your head and held your breath, prepared for whatever was on the other side. As he opened the door, you were greeted with a balcony overlooking the city, the skyline lit up against the night sky. There were fairy lights strung around the perimeter, casting a soft glow on the rooftop.

In the center, there was a small table, set up for two, the flicker of two candles casting shadows across the table. It was all so surreal. You couldn’t believe Hyunjin did all of this for you.

“Surprise!” Hyunjin said, dramatically wiggling his fingers.

You chuckled at his antics, all of your nervousness gone.

“It’s beautiful! I can’t believe you did this for me,” you said, your voice breaking as you looked at Hyunjin.

“Aww angel, don’t cry,” Hyunjin said as he rushed over to you.

He gently wiped the tear that had escaped while he pulled you closer to his body.

“I’d do anything for you y/n. I love you so much.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words as the feeling of butterflies fluttered within your stomach. You couldn’t believe your luck, happy that you were able to share this moment with the most perfect man.

“I love you too,” you gushed, your cheeks flushing with the statement.

Hyunjin flashed his beautiful smile before taking your hands in his once more.

“Shall we?”

“Yes please,” you softly said, letting him pull you toward the table.

You watched as he pulled your chair out, gesturing for you to sit. Once seated, he rushed to his chair and sat down. Your eyes followed his every move as he plated up dinner, the food smelling delicious as it was piled up on your plate.

He poured both of you a glass of wine and then signaled he was done. You both began to eat, the food seeming to melt on your tongue as a burst of flavors invaded your taste buds.

Hyunjin filled the evening with chatter, asking you about your day in detail. You were more than happy to discuss your day, as it was a little rough, having some difficult customers come through.

Once you were done eating, Hyunjin dished up dessert, setting down a slice of chocolate cake in front of you.

“You know me so well,” you said as you eyed the cake, your mouth watering in anticipation at eating the sweet treat.

“Of course angel, have to make sure you have your chocolate!”

You giggled and picked up your fork and cut a piece off. You moaned at the taste, your eyes closing as it melted in your mouth. You were in heaven, or close to it.

“So,” Hyunjin started as he twirled his fork around in his hand. “I am going to enter into the poetry night contest at the cafe. I think it would be something fun to do.”

Hyunjin looked at his plate, nervous in how you would respond. He wanted to share his talent with more people, and what better way to do so than through a friendly competition? The prize was also nice, one he believes would be worth winning.

“That’s a great idea baby!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands at the idea.

Hyunjin’s eyes lit up at your enthusiasm, his body relaxing further into the chair at your acceptance.

“Mind if we practice when we get home?” He asked, hope in his eyes.

“Of course, I’d love to help you,” you gushed, excited to hear which poem he chose.

“Great, let’s pack up and then we can head back.”

You nodded and began to gather your trash, helping hyunjin clean up. Once done, you both walked back to his apartment, giggling and chatting the whole way, your arms swinging back and forth between you.

“Thank you for dinner baby, I really did enjoy it,” you said, as you continued your walk.

“I’m happy you liked it angel, anything for my baby.”

You chuckled, your heart swelling at how sweet he is. You walked in silence, enjoying the quiet of the city as it was late. Within the last few blocks from Hyunjin’s apartment building, an idea popped in your head.

“Wanna race the rest of the way and see who can get there first?” You asked, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Oh yes! Let’s do it,” Hyunjin said.

“Just so you know, I plan on winning,” you teased as you dropped your hand from his.

“I’d like to see you try,” Hyunjin responded while squatting, preparing to take off.

“Ok, ready? 3…2…1..go!”

You both took off down the walk, a fluster of laughter and shouts as you both raced to his building. You couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy as you felt the wind blow through your hair as you raced your boyfriend. Tonight was a perfect night indeed and would definitely be one of your favorites.

— —

Once inside, you both made yourself comfy, changing into your sleep clothes. You giggled as Hyunjin pulled you into bed and pressed kisses all over your face.

“I love you sweet girl,” he murmured in between kisses.

“I love you too baby, that tickles!” You chuckled as he tried to pull you closer, all the while continuing to kiss you.

Once he was satisfied, he pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Happy birthday angel,” he whispered as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You smiled before leaning over to kiss him on the lips, your heart swelling at the gentleness of the kiss. You both laid there for what felt like a lifetime, snuggled into each other’s embrace as you lazily kissed each other. You tugged your fingers through his hair, the soft locks gliding easily through them.

Hyunjin whimpered against your lips, as he pressed himself against you, his length hard against your thigh. You rolled your hips, grinding against him as you deepened the kiss, running your tongue against his bottom lip asking for entrance.

He pulled you closer, your bodies flush against each other as his tongue danced with yours. You wrapped a leg around his waist so you could feel him better and continued to grind against him, sighing against his lips as his cock brushed against your core.

Disconnecting with a gasp, you laid there catching your breath as you stared at your lover, taking in the love mixed with lust in his eyes. Your eyes fluttered as Hyunjin lightly dragged his finger down your cheek, to your lips, his thumb catching at your bottom lip.

You moaned as he slowly pushed his finger within your mouth, your lips immediately wrapping around the digit. You lightly sucked on his finger, your tongue swirling around the digit, your eyes on his.

You smirked as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh. As you released his thumb with a pop, Hyunjin pounced on you, rolling you onto your back. He attached his lips to yours in a hurried kiss, his hands fumbling with your sleep shorts.

He dragged them down as best as he could, you aiding the process as you wiggled out of the fabric, your feet pushing them down your legs. Hyunjin pulled away briefly as he gripped the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head.

You moaned as he attached his lips back to yours, your pussy clenching as he rocked his clothed cock into your core. He lazily kissed you, his pace slowing down, his heart beating against yours. You were lost in the feel of him when you heard him murmur, his voice sultry in your ear.

“She walks in beauty like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes; thus mellowed to that tender light, which heaven to gaudy day denies.”

You pulled away slightly, confusion plastered on your face.

“Baby…what…”

But Hyunjin just silenced you with a kiss. “Shhh my angel, I’m practicing remember?”

It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about, lost in thought as his lips moved with yours, until it clicked a few seconds later. The poem. Ahh it made sense now.

At that, you relaxed further, letting out a sigh as his lips moved to your neck, sucking the skin there and licking the area to sooth it. Your fingers played with his hair, twirling the ends around the digit. As he continued to leave purple marks on your skin, he continued murmuring, his voice soft in the otherwise quiet room.

“One shade the more, one ray the less, had half impaired the nameless grace, which waves in every raven tress, or softly lightens o’er her face; where thoughts serenely sweet express, how pure, how dear their dwelling place.”

Once he was done reciting the next part, he trailed his lips on your chest, pressing wet kisses down the valley of your breasts. He wrapped his plush lips around your nipple, letting out little moans as he suckled the hardened nub.

“So beautiful angel,” Hyunjin murmured in between kisses as he fondled your breasts, his eyes closed in bliss as he savored your body.

His fingers trailed down your tummy, leaving goosebumps in its wake as he made his way to your core, his fingers swirling around your swollen clit. You sighed as he continued to gently play with the nub, shocks of pleasure wrecking your frame as you surrendered to his ministrations.

As he tortured your sweet flesh, his eyes snapped up to watch you writhing in pleasure. Licking his lips, he took a shaky breath before continuing on.

“And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, so soft, so calm, yet eloquent, the smiles that win, the tints that glow; but tell of days in goodness spent, a mind at peace with all below, a heart whose love is innocent.”

You opened your eyes as he finished, his voice trailing off at the end. You looked down at the love of your life between your legs, watching the veins pop out of his arms as he continued to pay attention to your clit.

You were close, the pleasure building, your chest heaving as you tried to breathe. Your hands gripped the sheets, the white fabric bunching up as you rocked your hips against his fingers.

“So sweet, so beautiful, delicate like a flower. Cum for me angel.”

You groaned at his words, your orgasm hitting you hard as he continued to gently fondle you. He grinned as you fell apart, his eyes roaming your face, taking in the look of pleasure, the scent of you as your slick made a mess of his hands.

Once you came down, Hyunjin shuffled up, parting your legs even more. At some point he had rid himself of his clothes, his hand stroking his leaking cock.

He brought his length between your folds, running his cock through your slick, before pushing into you. You both let out a moan, your arms reaching out for Hyunjin as he began to thrust into you.

“My baby,” Hyunjin cooed as he leaned down, your hands wrapping around his neck as you brought him closer to you.

Hyunjin slowly thrusted into you, taking his time, his cock dragging through your walls and hitting your sweet spot each time. You whined as he buried his face within your neck, placing sloppy kisses there, as he murmured his love for you.

You felt overwhelmed as he made love to you, the heat within your core building again. You clutched onto Hyunjin anywhere you could, his hair, his back, his waist as he brought sweet bliss upon you.

You reveled in the sound of both of you, as you breathed as one, punctuated with a low moan as he continued to rock into you. Hyunjin groaned each time your pussy made known how good he was fucking you, his hips stuttering as you squeezed around him.

“Come on angel, cum for me, be a good girl yeah?” Hyunjin moaned into your ear, his pace becoming more erratic as he got closer to his high.

You felt his cock twitch within you, your pussy clenching again and again, locking him in. You were blindsided as the coil within you snapped, your orgasm hitting you hard as you gasped, your pussy dripping with your arousal, drenching Hyunjin’s cock as he continued to fuck you through it.

Hyunjin let out a loud groan at the feel of your walls spasming around him, triggering his high, his cum spurting out within you, thoroughly coating your walls.

As you came down, you watched the man you love fall apart above you, a sight you will never get used to. He looked down at you, sweat dripping down his face, his hair disheveled as he thrusted his hips within you a few more times for good measure.

“Such beauty in your afterglow,” Hyunjin cooed as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and trailed a finger from your lips, down your chest, your breasts, your tummy, all the way down to your core.

He dragged his finger through some of the cum that was leaking around his cock that was still buried within your heat. Taking his soaked finger, he brought it to your lips, smiling as you opened and took the digit in.

You swirled your tongue around his finger, licking up the salty liquid, humming as you swallowed.

“Good girl,” Hyunjin praised as he withdrew his finger and his cock.

You whimpered at the emptiness, your arms reaching out for Hyunjin. He snuggled into your embrace, pressing sweet kisses all over your face.

“Stop baby,” you giggled, turning your head side to side.

“Nope, won’t stop angel,” Hyunjin teased as he continued his assault.

You both battled for a little while longer, the room filled with laughter as you both teased each other. Hyunjin settled down however and stared at you, almost as if he was staring into your soul.

“You know I love you right?” Hyunjin whispered, as he memorized your face for the millionth time.

“Mmhmm,” you said as you brushed your fingers through his hair. “And I love you.”

Hyunjin smiled at your confession as he leaned to press another kiss to your lips.

“Happy birthday,” he said as he rested his head on your chest.

This would be one of your best birthdays yet, filled with special moments with the man you love.

The days passed as Hyunjin prepared the competition. He was ready to win, ready to receive that prize so he could surprise you. He had a plan after all.

You helped him practice as much as possible, your nights spent at your place or his, snacks scattered around the table as Hyunjin paced the floors reciting the poem. You were sure he would win, as he improved greatly over the last few weeks.

You had to work the day of the competition, however, Hyunjin would meet you there before your shift ended.

“You got this babe,” you said to him as you left for your shift, giving him a smile as you walked out the door.

Your shift passed, your nerves getting the best of you as the time of the competition drew nearer. Ember showed up early, wanting to support your boyfriend and cheer him on.

You directed her to a table, so that way you both would have good seats for the night. It didn’t take long until Hyunjin showed up, handsomely dressed as always.

He smiled as he approached you. “Hi angel!” He gushed, his body radiating with excitement.

“Hi baby, ready?”

“Of course, gonna win this thing!”

You chuckled at his optimism. “Go sit, Ember saved us seats. I’ll be there soon.”

Hyunjin nodded and blew you a kiss before walking away, taking a seat next to your friend.

You finished your shift and clocked out, the time passing fairly quickly. You sat down next to Hyunjin and placed your hand on his giving it a squeeze. He seemed to be buzzing with enthusiasm, but deep down you knew he was nervous.

“You got this baby,” you whispered, giving his hand another squeeze.

Hyunjin smiled and relaxed, elated that you were there to cheer him on.

The event began in no time, the little cafe packed with patrons. You watched as contestant after contestant performed, their words filling the small space, and taking the listeners to a different place and time.

Before you knew it, it was Hyunjin’s turn. You and Ember cheered him on as he took his place on stage, his confidence oozing as he gazed at the crowd. You were captivated as he began to speak, the words reaching each person, telling a story of love and beauty.

Hyunjin maintained eye contact with each person, his voice raising and falling at the appropriate moments, his hands flowing in movements that helped tell the story.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him and neither could anyone else. After he recited the last line, there was silence in the cafe as everyone recovered from the journey, before a thunderous applause rang out.

You grinned as you cheered enthusiastically, watching as your boyfriend bowed before walking back to your table.

“Good job babe!” You said as you kissed his cheek, the flesh reddening at the action as all eyes were on him.

As he was the last contestant, the award ceremony began shortly after his performance. You listened as your manager thanked everyone for being there to support these talented people as cheers rang out once more.

Once she was done with logistics, the time came to announce the winner. You held your breath as she slowly unfolded a piece of paper, your hand reaching out to hold on to Hyunjin’s.

She took a moment to read what was written before a smile broke out on her face.

“And the winner is….Hwang Hyunjin!”

Cheers rang out at the announcement, but loudest of all was you. You hugged Hyunjin tightly, tears forming in your eyes at his win.

Hyunjin stood up to go claim his prize, the loud uproar not dying down until he sat down.

“You did it!” You exclaimed, grasping his hands in yours.

Hyunjin beamed, his eyes shining as he tried not to cry.

“I did it for us love.” He said as he gazed into your eyes.

You cocked your head in confusion. “For us?” You inquired.

Hyunjin nodded as he handed you the prize he’d won. “Open it.”

You took the envelope from him and opened it, eyeing two pieces of paper nestled within. It took you a moment to notice what they were.

“Plane tickets?” You looked closer. “Oh! We’re going to Paris!” You exclaimed as you began bouncing on your seat.

“Yes we are angel,” Hyunjin said as he watched you dance in your seat.

Hyunjin needed to win this trip. He wanted to take you to Paris, the city of love, to shower you in love. He also had another plan up his sleeve, one that he had to keep secret for just a little longer.

His mind wandered to the little black box tucked away in his sock drawer, a beautiful diamond nestled in the velvet within. He knew you were the love of his life from that first day he saw you, sitting in the crowd listening to him speak.

You were his muse, his love, his everything; your aura radiating whispers of beauty.

He wouldn’t want to spend his life with nobody else but you. That he was sure of.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground

#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids fluff #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #stray kids angst #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfics #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours

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fuck1ng-queen · 4 months ago

Text

Better than the series

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: light discussion, you being a bit shitty, jealousy, oral sex, Noah using that damn mustache

Author comments: hi bestiessss, how are you? if you follow me, you may have seen a post i made about mustache!noah a few days ago and honestly, i didn't think that post would get so many notes (which makes me think that mustache!noah is something everyone is interested in). anyway, i'm going to hell for thinking about noah like that and i'm taking all of you with me, kisses!

"It was great, guys! Thank you so much! See you next week!" You said, pretending not to be so enthusiastic.

You finished your work and lowered the screen of your laptop with excitement. Friday afternoons were always full of expectations. The daily stress of adult life kept you away from your boyfriend much more than you would have liked, so the closer Friday night, the sacred moment for both of you, got, the more butterflies danced in your stomach. Of course, you weren't a little girl anymore, and you weren't in the "getting to know him" stage, but damn, when you realized who you were dating, it was hard not to feel like jelly.

You took a quick but strategically effective shower, dressed comfortably, perfumed your hair with Noah's favorite scent, and quickly ordered a car to be there as soon as possible.

With a backpack on your back and a smile on your face, you arrived ready for your special evening with Noah. It didn't matter what you were going to do, what mattered was that you were together. The door opened and he greeted you with a warm hug and a kiss before you snuggled down on the couch. How good it was to be with him, you felt as if the week hadn't passed you by, as if being in the warmth of his arms dissolved all the pain and worry in your life. You just wanted time to freeze so you could stay there forever, just you and him.

"I counted the minutes until today. Our Fridays are sacred, but some weeks are so exhausting that they make it even more special," you smiled and patted Noah's cheek. "What do you want to do today?"

He kissed your forehead, the mustache he had invented to keep on lately tickling you slightly and making you giggle.

"I love our Fridays too. But there's one thing… the guys are organizing a gaming session tonight," Noah replied.

You pulled away from his embrace a little, just for you to see him more clearly, blinking your eyes a few times in a row. "But today?" you asked, confused. "Noah, it's our night."

Noah scratched the back of his head, knowing his explanation wouldn't go over well, but he tried to explain himself anyway.

"It's Jay's birthday. He's alone at the exchange and we want to give a little joy to his day. I promise it won't take long."

You understand that Jay is alone and he misses his friends, especially Noah since they've known each other for so long, but you can't hide your frustration and immediately cross your arms in disappointment.

"You're always talking to them, we hardly have time for each other."

"But we're together every week, we see each other all the time, and Jay? Look at his side, the guy's all alone there. I bet you don't want to feel alone."

You stand up, getting off Noah's lap and reply, still frustrated, "Alone? That's how you're leaving me, alone. You should pay attention to me. It's Friday, Noah, our day!"

He stands up, and although you love that look on his face, his already closed face gets on your nerves. You hated it when Noah did that.

"Fuck, am I not here? I don't leave you alone, have I ever left you alone? I understand that today is our day, I really do, but you could put yourself in other people's shoes a little," Noah sighs, trying not to be a jerk and get into an argument with you. He thinks of better words to say to you before he continues. "He needs it today, he's been feeling very lonely lately."

You exchange glances: from his side, the silent plea for you not to be as angry as you already seem to be; from yours, the growing tension and frustration. You sigh, not wanting to start a fight, but feeling deeply annoyed.

"Fine," you just give in, seriously. "But I'm not happy about it."

Noah kisses your lips and only replies, "I promise it'll be quick. You can stay in the room with me while I play, I don't want you to feel left out."

You enter the room together, but the atmosphere is still charged. Noah begins to set up the computer for the game while you sit on the bed, trying to hide your disappointment.

"Gotta call Emma so we can watch something on call. At least that way I won't be totally left out and I'll have someone to talk to."

"Sure, good idea. Just don't be too mean to the character on the show," he replies absent-mindedly, but trying to be nice.

"Don't worry, he'll have all our attention," you reply, giving him a cynical smile.

Noah nods, a little relieved, as you pick up the phone to call your friend. He sits down in his gaming chair, turning on the neon light in the room, and off the regular bedroom light to make the room comfortable for both of you. He adjusts the headset to start while you lie on the bed fiddling with your cell phone, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"Okay, guys, I'm here. Let's get started before Jay shows up."

You call your friend, and she somehow comes over to keep you company. You sit down on the bed with your laptop next to you and start watching the show. Noah, next to you, remains focused on the game, occasionally casting a furtive glance at you. A scene begins, highlighting the show's main character. He's handsome, wearing a shirt that, despite its formal appearance, is brightly colored and has some of its buttons undone, tight jeans, and aviator glasses that hide his deep brown eyes. But what really catches the eye is his distinctive mustache.

"Look at that man, that mustache is quite a sight," Emma jokes, her voice electronically present in the room. "This guy definitely knows how to use it to his advantage."

Noah, between the music playing and the laughter of his friends, hears you both burst out laughing, the sound echoing around the room, and he makes a point of very discreetly removing one side of the headset from his ear, curious to know why you're laughing.

"The mustache is like… a sign of confidence. I bet he must be amazing in bed."

"Totally! Do you think he's good in bed just because he has a mustache?"

"Absolutely! He must know exactly how to use it. Just think, a guy with a mustache like that must have tricks we can't even dream of."

Noah finds himself increasingly interested in the conversation and can't help but mute the sound of his headphones, trying his best to pay attention, one eyebrow raised in excitement to know how far your conversation is going, and just pretend to play.

"It must be the kind that takes your breath away in seconds," you say, unaware that Noah is listening. "The kind that knows what they're doing, the kind that's… experienced."

"A lot more than most. If a guy with a mustache like that paid attention to me, I wouldn't care about anything else, I'd just need him and a glass of water to live."

You laugh at Emma's comment, but then you look at Noah out of the corner of your eye and become serious again. "Yes, but some people prefer to play."

Noah continues with his temporarily forgotten game, pretending not to be hearing, but his expression with his back to you shows that he heard every word you said. "To play, huh?" He just moves his lips, speaking silently.

The conversation between you continues, full of laughter and bold comments about the character on the show. Noah keeps the microphone muted for long moments, discreetly observing the interaction.

The show ends and Emma says goodbye to you. Your phone vibrates with a message from your friend:

"It was fun, but I'm going to leave you to sort things out. Good luck!"

You reply with a few words: "Thanks. See you, Emma."

You get into bed, feeling a little better for the laughs with her, but still annoyed that Noah's game is taking longer than he promised.

"Good night, Noah," you say, turning your back on him, then mutter something inaudible, still slightly annoyed, but mostly frustrated. He should have at least warned you that the evening was going to be like this and that you'd be ready to do something else.

Noah doesn't answer, otherwise you might think he was listening the whole time. He sighs, knowing it will take an extra effort to get your attention again.

(…)

The night stretches on and Noah finally shuts down his computer and takes off his headset. He looks at you lying on your back, and even though you're asleep, he knows that you're clearly distant. Without forgetting how you've been thinking about the man in the series, he laughs softly, touches his own mustache, and something in him is ignited.

He slowly moves closer, snuggling up to you under the covers, already pushing your hair aside to make room to kiss your neck, deliberately brushing his facial hair. You slowly stir from the tickle you feel and finally wake up when you feel Noah's big hand playing with the nipple of your breast under your clothes.

"Noah…" you sigh, still sleepy. "What are you doing?"

He keeps tracing long kisses down your neck, making you shiver, and in a low, teasing voice he says in your ear, "You think I'm not paying attention, don't you? Those comments about the guy on the show… Do you think he could make you feel that way?"

Your sleep begins to dissipate as he kisses you, making you sigh, feeling your resistance melt away.

"Did you hear that? I was just kidding…" You turn your face to find his almond eyes staring at you with desire, your ass beginning to feel his bulge growing behind you.

He pulls the blanket off you and turns you over on the bed, kneeling in front of you and pulling off your shorts and panties together. He pushes your legs apart and you moan softly, already completely surrendered to the moment.

"Kidding?" His laugh makes you throb. "I'm going to show you that I'm much better than any guy you see on TV."

And he dives between your legs, ready to taste you, but mostly to tease you. He kisses one side of your groin, then the other, making a point of brushing his facial hair against you, noticing how wet and thirsty it makes you.

"Noah… Please…" you moan, trying to move your hips closer to Noah's mouth. He smiles smugly and runs his tongue along your folds, which are throbbing with excitement.

He turns his attention to your clit, sucking and sucking, making everything hotter and wetter. The hairs on his mustache, which you had just imagined tickling you while watching the show, only made you feel more pleasure. Noah tastes you like a hungry man and brings you closer and closer to coming apart.

"Look at you, you tremble every time I run my mustache over that needy pussy… I don't think I'll be shaving anytime soon. Do you want me to shave, babe?" he asks, laughing and rubbing his nose against you.

"N-no Noah, I don't want you to…" and you moan as you feel two of his long fingers penetrating you, unable to finish the sentence. "Noah, please…"

He is relentless in the way he moves his fingers inside you, knowing every point of you, knowing exactly what to do to turn you on. Without much effort, he feels you clenching against his fingers, your thighs shaking in spasms, and he hears your voice break into a loud moan calling out to him as you cum hard in his mouth.

He pulls away from you and kneels in front of your still-spread legs to appreciate your throbbing folds and your flushed, orgasmic face. "You're such a silly girl sometimes." He smiles and runs his fingers, which were inside you moments before, through his own mustache and ends up sucking on his own fingers. "This is for you to learn to appreciate what you have."

And then he just gets up and leaves the room, laughing at the incredulous way you look at him, trying his best to maintain the idiotic character he's just created, even though he knows he'll be buried inside of you in a few minutes, making you cum a few more times to live up to your special Friday.

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#noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #fanfic #noah sebastian fanfic #luna writes

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rootedinrevisions · 6 months ago

Text

To the Sky and Back

SUMMARY: After a falling-out with Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, reader tries to piece her life back together, avoiding every place and routine that reminds her of him. But when Bradley faces a high-risk mission, a visit from Natasha "Phoenix" shatters her fragile peace, forcing her to confront the depth of her feelings. With Bradley’s life hanging in the balance, she must decide whether to risk her heart again and let him know just how much he means to her before it's too late. A story of love, loss, and second chances, To the Sky and Back explores the courage it takes to hold on to what truly matters.

A/N: This was a combination of two different asks that I received! One was requested for the prompt and then the other was requesting some angst with Bradley where the angst is a little more prolonged. Thanks to both of the people who sent the request for this in! Hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT: "I'm sorry I'm not the person you want me to be."

WARNINGS/TAGS: Angst. Some more angst. And then some fluff.

WORD COUNT: 7.4K

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The Hard Deck hummed with its usual Friday night energy. Glasses clinked, laughter rose in waves, and the jukebox crooned an old Tom Petty song. You sat at the bar, absentmindedly tracing the condensation ring your drink had left on the wooden surface. It had been four months since you’d seen Bradley Bradshaw—four long months of waiting, wondering, and overthinking. You couldn’t decide if the knot in your stomach was from excitement or the growing anxiety about what, exactly, you and Bradley were.

Your heart jolted when you heard it—the unmistakable low rumble of the Bronco’s engine pulling into the parking lot. Your pulse quickened, and you felt every nerve in your body go on high alert. Turning toward the door, you saw him.

There he was. Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, in all his casual, rugged glory. Light wash jeans clung perfectly to his long legs, paired with a simple white undershirt under an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. His aviators, always a part of his signature look, were perched on his face, but as he stepped inside, he slid them off, tucking them into his shirt pocket. The room seemed to dim around him, your focus narrowing solely to the man you’d spent countless nights thinking about.

His eyes scanned the bar, and the moment they found yours, a lazy, lopsided grin spread across his face. He didn’t break eye contact as he ordered his beer from Penny. Then, beer in hand, he made his way to you.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said smoothly, his voice low and warm, like a melody you’d missed without realizing it.

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you slid off the stool, your arms wrapping around him instinctively. The tension of the last four months melted—if only for a second—as he looped an arm over your shoulders and pulled you in. He smelled of salt and sunscreen, the lingering scents of the ocean clinging to him.

“Missed you, sweets,” he murmured near your ear.

Your throat tightened at his words, but you forced yourself to play it cool, smiling up at him. “Missed you too.”

For a moment, you were lost in the way he looked at you, the warmth in his hazel eyes making your chest ache. But then, with a slight squeeze of your shoulder, he pulled away.

“I should go say hi to the gang,” he said, gesturing toward the pool table where Phoenix, Bob, and Coyote were gathered. “You don’t mind, right?”

“Of course not,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. “Go catch up.”

He gave you another of his disarming smiles before walking off, his long strides carrying him toward his friends. You watched him go, heart sinking slightly as you turned back to the bar.

The reality of your situation hit you again: you didn’t know where you stood with him, and the months apart hadn’t brought any clarity.

The laughter from his group reached your ears, and you sipped your drink to distract yourself. You wanted to be happy just to see him again, to feel his arm around you, to hear him call you “sweets.” But in the pit of your stomach, the question gnawed at you: What are we?

The night had deepened, and the cool ocean breeze filtered into the bar as the laughter and music continued around you. Bradley had been with his friends for most of the night, his easy smile and quiet laugh lighting up the group. You didn’t begrudge him the time to reconnect, but your heart weighed heavier with every passing minute. You couldn’t wait any longer.

When he came back to the bar to grab another beer, you saw your chance. Before he could return to the others, you touched his arm, stopping him.

“Bradley,” you said softly, your voice almost drowned out by the jukebox. His hazel eyes met yours, warm but questioning. “Can we talk? Just for a minute.”

His brows knitted slightly, but he nodded. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

You gestured toward the patio doors. He hesitated for a beat, then set his beer down and followed you outside. The night outside was quieter than inside the bar, the faint crash of waves filling the space between you.

Bradley leaned casually against the patio railing, but there was tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there a moment ago. He seemed almost hesitant as he met your gaze.

“What’s on your mind, sweets?” he asked, his voice warm, though a flicker of unease crossed his features.

You exhaled deeply, gathering the courage to say the words that had been circling in your mind for months. “I need to talk about us, Bradley. I need to know what we’re doing.”

His expression faltered, confusion laced with discomfort. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “We’ve been doing this for a year. And I’ve been happy—really happy—with you. But I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with not knowing where I stand. I need to know if this is going somewhere.”

He shifted his weight, dragging a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think we needed to put a label on it,” he said, his tone measured. “I thought we were good.”

“That’s the problem,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. “I might have been okay with that before, but I’m not anymore. I want more, Bradley. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. Officially. Exclusively.”

He frowned, the lines on his forehead deepening as he crossed his arms. “I don’t see why we can’t just keep things the way they are. I like what we have. It works.”

“Does it work for you? Because it’s starting to tear me apart,” you shot back, your voice louder now. “I’ve spent the last four months not knowing if I was the person you missed or just someone to pass the time with when you’re here.”

Bradley’s head snapped up, his hazel eyes burning with something between guilt and frustration. “You think I don’t miss you?” he asked sharply. “You think I don’t care about you?”

“I don’t know what to think, Bradley!” you admitted, throwing your hands up. “You never tell me how you feel, and you keep everything so damn vague. I don’t even know if you’ve been with anyone else, because we’ve never talked about it!”

His jaw tightened, and he stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I haven’t been with anyone else. It’s only been you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache, but it didn’t ease the tension coiled tightly inside you. “Then why can’t you just say it? Why can’t you call me your girlfriend?”

“Because it scares the hell out of me!” he snapped, his voice breaking slightly. He turned away, bracing himself against the railing. “I’ve seen what this life does to people. My dad left my mom behind, and it destroyed her. I can’t—” He exhaled roughly, his broad shoulders rising and falling. “I can’t do that to someone. To you.”

Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “You think you’re protecting me by keeping me at arm’s length? You think it doesn’t hurt to feel like I’m asking for too much just to be something more to you?”

He turned back to you, his hazel eyes filled with regret. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I’m not the person you want me to be.”

His words cut deep, and a tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. You swiped at it angrily, stepping back. “I’m sorry, too. Because I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending this is enough.”

“Wait,” he said quickly, reaching for your hand. “Don’t go. Please. We can talk about this—figure something out.”

You shook your head, pulling your hand away. “We’ve been ‘figuring it out’ for a year, Bradley. I can’t keep waiting for you to decide I’m worth the risk.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, his voice breaking. He stepped closer, desperation flickering in his eyes. “You are worth it—I just—”

“You just don’t know if you’re ready to admit it,” you finished for him, your voice trembling. “And I can’t keep waiting for you to be ready.”

The silence between you was deafening. He looked at you like he wanted to say something—anything—that would make you stay, but the words never came.

Finally, you turned and walked away, tears blurring your vision.

“Wait!” Bradley called after you, his voice raw. “Let me at least drive you home. Please.”

You stopped but didn’t turn back.

“No,” you said firmly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t follow me, Bradley.”

As you reached the parking lot, Jake Seresin stood leaning against his truck, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. When your tear-streaked face came into view, his expression softened.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low.

“Can you drive me home?” you asked, wiping at your cheeks. “Just drop me off and come back.”

Jake nodded, his usual cocky demeanor nowhere in sight. He opened the passenger door for you without a word, and you climbed in.

As Jake’s truck rumbled to life, you glanced back. Bradley stood on the patio, his hands on his hips, his face a mix of heartbreak and confusion. The sight of him cracked something deep inside you, but you forced yourself to look away as Jake pulled out of the parking lot.

The weight of what had just happened settled heavily on your chest, and for the first time in months, you felt the full brunt of the unknown you’d been living with.

The hum of Jake’s truck filled the silence as you stared out the passenger window, the cool night air brushing against your face from the barely cracked window. You gave him quiet directions when needed, your voice soft and distant. Jake didn’t press, didn’t ask what had happened right away, and for that, you were grateful.

But the silence couldn’t last forever.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked finally, his voice even but cautious.

You shook your head, your eyes still fixed on the darkened streets. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Jake glanced at you briefly, the furrow of his brow barely visible in the dim light of the dashboard. “Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he said carefully. “You looked pretty torn up back there.”

Your jaw tightened, and you exhaled sharply through your nose. “I’m fine,” you said, though the crack in your voice betrayed you.

Jake didn’t push, but he wasn’t ready to let the conversation drop entirely. After a moment, he said, “You know, Rooster talked about you while we were deployed.”

Your head turned sharply toward him, your stomach twisting. “What?”

“Yeah,” Jake said casually, his hands steady on the wheel. “Nothing too specific, but… you came up. Enough to know you were on his mind.”

The words stung more than they soothed. If you’d been on his mind, if he’d thought about you during those long months apart, then why couldn’t he just give you what you needed? Why couldn’t he make things official?

“Great,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “That makes it so much better.”

Jake glanced at you again, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Look, I’m just saying… the guy cares about you. He might not say it the way you want, but he does.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Caring about someone isn’t enough if you can’t show it. If he cared, he wouldn’t make me feel like I’m asking for too much just to have some clarity.”

Jake didn’t have a response for that, and the silence returned, heavy and thick.

A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of your place. The truck idled quietly as you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride,” you said, your voice softer now.

“Anytime,” he replied, his tone sincere. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

You nodded, though the tightness in your chest said otherwise. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

Jake didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t argue. “I’ll wait till you’re inside,” he said, his voice firm but kind.

You gave him a small, grateful smile before stepping out of the truck. The cool night air hit your face, grounding you for a moment as you made your way to your front door. You fumbled with your keys, finally unlocking the door and stepping inside.

As you turned to shut the door, you glanced back at Jake. He gave you a short nod before driving off, his truck disappearing into the night.

The quiet of your home wrapped around you as you leaned against the door, your chest tightening with the weight of everything that had happened.

For the first time in a long time, you felt completely alone.

The silence of your home was interrupted by the sharp buzz of your phone on the counter where you’d dropped it. You hesitated before picking it up, already guessing who it might be.

The screen lit up with Bradley’s name. The first message was simple, almost hesitant.

Bradley: Just let me know when you’re home safe.

You stared at it for a moment, your chest tightening. A second buzz followed.

Bradley: Can we talk? Please?

Then another.

Bradley: I shouldn’t have said what I did. I just—I didn’t know how to handle it.

And another.

Bradley: You can put the label on it. Whatever you want. I don’t care. Just… don’t shut me out.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing with each buzz. His words were frantic, almost desperate, but that only made the ache in your chest deepen.

He didn’t want the label because he wanted it. He wanted it because he thought it would keep you from walking away. That wasn’t what you’d asked for. You wanted him to want you, fully and without hesitation. But this? This was him trying to patch things up without really understanding what had broken.

The phone buzzed again, another message lighting up the screen.

Bradley: I care about you. You know that, right?

You sat down on the edge of the couch, the weight of everything settling heavily on your shoulders. Your thumb hovered over the screen, debating whether to respond.

But you didn’t. Not to this. Not to him trying to fix things for the wrong reasons.

Instead, you set the phone down on the coffee table, face down, and leaned back, closing your eyes. If he really wanted to know you were home safe, he could ask Jake. The thought was petty, maybe even cruel, but right now, you don’t have the energy to be the bigger person.

You needed space. Time to think. And if Bradley wanted to prove he cared, he’d have to do more than send a flurry of panicked texts.

Your bedroom was dark except for the soft glow of a streetlight filtering through the curtains. You kicked the door shut behind you, your chest heaving with the weight of unshed tears.

Stripping off the shirt and jeans you’d worn to the bar, you rifled through your drawer for something comfortable. You yanked out a pair of sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt, tugging it over your head in a rush to get comfortable.

The scent hit you before the realization. That faint mix of salt air, pine, and his cologne.

Your heart plummeted.

It was his shirt.

You froze, staring down at the faded Navy insignia printed across the chest. A lump rose in your throat, thick and unrelenting. Without thinking, you ripped it off, balling it up in your fists.

The scream tore from your throat, raw and full of anguish as you hurled the shirt across the room. It smacked against the wall and slid to the floor like it had no right to exist, like it hadn’t just unraveled you completely.

"I hate you," you whispered, your voice trembling as you sank to your knees. "I hate you, Bradley Bradshaw."

But even as the words spilled from your lips, you knew they weren’t true.

You hated the way he made you feel. The way he held you so close but never close enough. You hated the way he smiled at you, like you were the only person in the room, and the way your heart betrayed you by falling for him.

You hated that you weren’t enough for him.

Tears streamed down your face as you pressed your palms into the carpet, curling over yourself. He wouldn’t put a label on it to protect you, but what good did that do now? You were already in too deep. The dates, the late-night conversations, the stolen kisses, and the nights spent tangled in his sheets—none of it had been casual for you.

God, you were in love with him.

The sob broke free before you could stop it, wracking your body as you crawled onto your bed. You grabbed your pillow, clutching it against your chest as if it could anchor you, and let the tears fall.

It hurt. It hurt because the label didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Whether he called you his girlfriend or not, it wouldn’t stop the fear you felt every time he flew. It wouldn’t protect you from heartbreak if he didn’t come back.

And yet, the label was everything. Because it meant he chose you. It meant he wasn’t holding back, wasn’t keeping you at arm’s length because of his own fear.

The pillow muffled your cries as you curled into the fetal position, trembling from the force of your grief. You hated him, but only because you loved him so much more.

The light from the morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting warm, golden hues across the room. You woke with a start, blinking against the brightness, your head heavy from the weight of last night’s tears. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, the remnants of your sobs still echoing in your mind, the sting in your throat lingering.

You sat up slowly, the tightness in your chest reminding you of how broken you had felt when you finally gave in to the exhaustion and let sleep claim you. You hadn’t expected to wake up with this much pain still sitting in your bones. The weight of everything felt heavier today, more unbearable.

Then you heard it.

A knock.

A sharp, insistent pound against your front door.

You flinched, the sound jerking you from your thoughts. Your gaze flicked to the alarm clock on your nightstand. Barely eight in the morning. Who would be knocking at your door this early? You pulled the blanket off your body and swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the dull ache in your limbs from the previous night’s emotional rollercoaster.

With trepidation, you padded down the hallway, the floorboards creaking beneath your feet. Your mind raced with thoughts of what could be waiting for you on the other side of the door.

You reached for the handle, taking a deep breath before opening it.

And there he was.

Bradley Bradshaw.

Standing there, one hand raised in the midst of another knock, his eyes wide, full of uncertainty and something else. Something deeper. His jaw tightened when he saw you, and for a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with the unspoken.

He was still in the clothes he’d worn to the bar last night, like he hadn’t bothered going home first. His expression was a mixture of regret and frustration, but there was something else too—guilt, maybe. Or maybe it was just that damned vulnerability that had always been so hard to read with him.

“Hey,” Bradley’s voice was softer than you expected, rough around the edges, like he’d barely slept.

You didn’t respond right away, your eyes flicking over his face, searching for something. What did he expect from you right now?

You weren’t sure you even had the energy to be angry with him. The night before had drained you, and the last thing you wanted was to face him again.

“I… uh, I wanted to talk.” His voice cracked, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You stood there, frozen, still not sure if you were ready to hear what he had to say. Last night had hurt too much, and you weren’t sure if you were willing to put yourself through more of it.

But, against your better judgment, your mouth opened. “About what?” You didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but the words slipped from your lips, laced with a bitter edge.

Bradley shifted his weight, his eyes dropping to the ground for a brief moment before meeting yours again. There was something desperate in his gaze now, something that mirrored the pain you’d felt last night.

“I screwed up. I know I did.” He spoke like he hadn’t planned the words but they’d come out anyway, raw and real. “I just… I didn’t think you’d want a label, but I get it now. I see that I’ve been messing this up for both of us.”

Your chest tightened. The familiar ache in your heart was back, that throbbing reminder of how close you were to breaking. He was standing there, telling you everything you needed to hear, but it didn’t change the fact that it was too late.

“I didn’t want to pressure you into something you didn’t want, but if I’m being honest… I don’t want to lose you.” His voice softened, and there was a flicker of something that could almost be called regret. But the words didn’t feel right. They didn’t feel like they were coming from the heart. They felt like something he was saying out of guilt.

The silence stretched between you. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, feel the weight of the decision that had to be made in the pit of your stomach.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came out. It was all too much, too soon.

Bradley stepped closer, closing the space between you, his expression pleading now, vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache.

“I want this with you, I do. But I—” He stopped himself, breathing out like the words were caught in his throat.

You looked at him, really looked at him. You could see the cracks in his façade, the uncertainty that was so unlike the confident man you knew. But even with that vulnerability laid bare, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all just words.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Bradley,” you whispered, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t want to be some maybe or could be. I need to know where I stand.”

Bradley’s face fell, his lips parting as if he were about to say something else. But nothing came. He just stood there, looking at you like he was piecing together what he should say next.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and for the first time, you saw the true weight of regret in his eyes.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the emotions that threatened to spill over again. “I don’t think you are, Brad. Not really.”

The air between you both thickened, and you couldn’t take it anymore. Without another word, you stepped back, closing the door gently in his face.

You leaned against the wood, closing your eyes as you heard his footsteps retreat, his presence now a memory.

You were alone again.

And maybe that was how it was always meant to be.

* * * * *

The days dragged on in a haze of quiet frustration and longing. Each morning you woke, the weight of the night’s emotional unraveling clung to you like a second skin. The sun would shine through your window, the world would move forward, but you felt paralyzed by your own hurt, by the thought of Bradley, by the pain of what could have been and what never would be.

You tried to get yourself back on track. You tried to act normal, to resume your routine, but everything seemed to remind you of him. His absence was like a wound that wouldn’t heal, reopening with every corner you turned.

The grocery store was the first hurdle. You knew Bradley went every Monday, and it used to be something the two of you did together. It felt like some unspoken tradition, something that was both ordinary and deeply comforting. But now, it just felt like a reminder of everything that had gone wrong. So you avoided it, switching your shopping day to Tuesday. Even though you knew he wouldn’t be there, the thought of running into him in that same mundane space, where everything felt like a memory, was too much to bear.

The Hard Deck was the next obstacle. The bar where you’d spent so many nights with him, the place where you laughed, argued, and shared quiet moments between chaos. You knew there was more than a 50% chance Bradley was there any given night. The bar, the music, the dim lighting that you once enjoyed felt suffocating now. You could hear his laugh in your mind, could see the glint of his eyes as he grinned across the room. But you refused to risk seeing him, to risk letting the pieces of your heart shatter again. Even when you drove by a few nights, when his Bronco wasn’t parked in its usual spot, you still didn’t stop. What if he had caught a ride? What if he was inside, and you just didn’t know? You couldn’t take the chance. Not when every interaction with him had the potential to destroy you further.

And the texts… the texts never stopped.

At first, they were constant—his messages coming in one after the other, in a rhythm that mirrored his thinking. Morning, noon, and night. He texted like he couldn’t bear the thought of you not knowing what he was doing, where he was. He sent them as soon as he woke up, like he needed to remind you that he was still thinking about you, even if he hadn’t quite figured it out himself. Those morning messages were the hardest to read, because you knew he hadn’t forgotten you. He was still holding on in his own way, but that didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t fought for you when it mattered.

And then came the late-night ones. The ones that were sent in the early hours, long after the world had gone quiet. You would wonder if he was sober when he wrote them, or if he had been drinking, a little too far into his own thoughts and regrets. Those messages were the ones that made your heart ache because they felt like half-baked apologies, like words spoken too late. They didn’t fix anything, they just twisted the knife.

But the ones that hurt the most were always in the middle of the day. The ones sent out of habit, when he was about to head into the sky, the ones that used to bring you a sense of safety, a quiet assurance that no matter what, Bradley always had a way of telling you what he was doing. “Hey, I’m headed up. I’ll be in the air for a couple hours, but I’ll let you know when I’m back on the ground.” It was something that had become routine between the two of you. You never asked for it, but you always appreciated it.

Now, those messages made your stomach drop. You hated the anxiety that came with the first text, the one that told you he was headed into the sky. And you hated the sense of relief you felt when the second one came, telling you he was safely back on the ground. It was stupid. It was pathetic. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t stop caring. You couldn’t stop the gnawing feeling in your chest, the pull of wanting to make sure he was okay.

And that’s what drove you mad.

You hated that you still cared. You hated that despite everything, despite his distance and his indecision, you couldn’t make yourself stop thinking about him. You couldn’t make yourself forget Bradley Bradshaw.

Even as you tried to rebuild your life, to find new routines, new places, new things to focus on, it all felt like an illusion. Nothing felt normal anymore. Your world had become a strange, hollow echo of what it used to be. And no matter how hard you tried to avoid him, to erase the pieces of him from your day-to-day life, you couldn’t escape the truth.

You were still in love with him. And you were still waiting for him to make a decision.

But you knew you couldn’t wait forever.

You just didn’t know how to stop.

* * * * *

Two months had passed since that early morning when Bradley stood at your door, and in that time, you’d learned to carry on without him. It wasn’t easy—some days were harder than others—but you were slowly learning how to exist without waiting for his texts, without hoping for him to just show up at your door again.

You still thought about him. Not every day anymore, but almost. And that, you decided, was progress. It didn’t feel like much, but it was something. There were days when the memories of his laugh, the warmth of his hand in yours, didn’t sting quite as badly. And then, there were days like today, when the past came rushing back to you in a way you couldn’t avoid.

It was just a knock on your front door. You weren’t expecting anyone, and yet, when you heard it, you knew something was about to change.

When you opened the door, there she was—Natasha "Phoenix," standing in front of you. Her usual confident demeanor was a little softer today, like she was carrying something heavy that she didn’t want to talk about.

"Hey," she said, her voice low but steady. "Can I come in?"

You nodded, stepping aside to let her in. Something about the way she stood at your door made your chest tighten. It wasn’t just the fact that it was her—it was what she was about to say. You didn’t know how you knew, but you did. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this anxious.

The two of you made your way to the kitchen, where you offered her a drink. She politely declined, settling down at the table. You sat across from her, your hands fidgeting in your lap.

"Everything okay?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure why, but you already had a sinking feeling that you weren’t going to like what was coming.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her eyes meeting yours. "There’s a mission coming up. I can’t tell you much—it’s classified. But I wanted to let you know that Bradley might be flying it."

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You knew this was bad. You could feel it.

"Bradley’s been flying high-risk missions for years," Phoenix continued, her voice steady but firm, "but this one is different. This is the most dangerous mission he’ll have flown. The odds… they’re not good. It will take two miracles happening at the same time for him to get home safely."

You couldn’t breathe. You wanted to stop her, to tell her that you didn’t need to know all the details. But you couldn’t. The words had already come, and they were burning through you.

She leaned forward slightly, her eyes serious. "But there’s something else. Something I need to tell you, woman to woman."

You swallowed hard, trying to brace yourself, though you already felt like you were crumbling.

"Bradley hasn’t been flying with a clear head," Phoenix said, her voice dropping to a more quiet, urgent tone. "Not since the last mission. He’s been distracted, pulled in a thousand different directions. And if he doesn’t fly this one with a clear head… I don’t think he’ll make it back."

The words hit you like a physical blow, and you felt your chest tighten, the air suddenly impossible to breathe.

Bradley hadn’t been okay. He’d been struggling, and you hadn’t even known. You hadn’t been able to help him, to fix whatever had been broken inside of him. But this… this was worse than anything you had imagined.

You stared at Phoenix, your mind reeling. All you could think about was the possibility—the reality—that Bradley might not come home. You had never imagined a world where that could happen. Where you could lose him forever.

And then it hit you—the realization that it was never just about the label. It was about so much more. About how, no matter how much you wanted to be enough for him, you weren’t the one who had mattered enough to him for him to put everything aside, to fight for you. And that was painful. But the thought of him not coming home? That ripped you apart in ways you didn’t know you could be broken.

"Please," you said, the words breaking through the suffocating silence. "Please tell me he’s going to be okay."

Phoenix didn’t answer immediately, her gaze shifting away as if she was trying to find the right words, the right reassurance. But there was nothing she could say.

"I don’t know," she finally said, her voice so low you could barely hear her. "I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I’m not sure. I don’t know if he’s going to be okay."

The words hung in the air between you, suffocating you in their weight. And all you could do was sit there, trying to grasp onto the fragile threads of hope that felt so far out of reach.

It was the hardest thing you’d ever had to hear. The thought of him not coming home, of him being lost to the sky forever—it made your entire world feel like it was unraveling.

You thought you were past him. You thought you could move on, heal, and put him behind you. But now, all you could think about was the future, the one where you would never get to see him again.

It was too much to bear. And you hated it. You hated that you couldn’t walk away from him, that you couldn’t turn your back on the love you had for him—even if it was unspoken, even if it was unfinished. You hated that you couldn’t fix him, couldn’t make him see you the way you needed him to.

But worse than anything, you hated that you might never get the chance to tell him how much you loved him.

Phoenix’s voice cut through the overwhelming weight of your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. "They’re getting on the aircraft carrier at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow," she said, her words steady but carrying a weight you couldn’t ignore. "I’m not asking you to come. I’m not asking you to talk to him. That decision’s up to you."

You felt a lump rise in your throat, the tightness in your chest making it hard to breathe. She wasn’t asking you to go to him, but she wasn’t telling you not to, either. The choice was yours, but it felt more like a trap than an option.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the quiet hum of the fridge in the corner. Phoenix didn’t seem to expect anything from you, but you could feel the gravity of the situation pulling you under. You didn’t know what you wanted, what you were supposed to want. All you knew was that Bradley was flying, and there was a real possibility he might not come back.

You swallowed, blinking back the tears that threatened to rise. "Thank you for telling me," you said quietly, your voice betraying the emotional weight you were carrying. "I—I don’t know what to do with this. But I appreciate you coming to me."

Phoenix gave you a nod, her face unreadable. "Just make sure you take care of yourself, alright? Whatever you decide."

You didn’t know what that meant. Taking care of yourself? How were you supposed to do that when the person who had occupied every corner of your mind was potentially flying into danger?

She stood up, her movements deliberate. "I’ll leave you to think about it," she said softly, her tone still serious but warm. "Take your time. But just know, whatever happens tomorrow, you’re not the only one who cares about him."

You nodded, not trusting your voice enough to say anything else.

She left then, and the silence in the room was deafening. The weight of her words, the knowledge of Bradley’s upcoming mission—it all settled like a stone in your stomach. You wanted to scream, wanted to run to him and beg him to stay, to take care of himself, to put everything on hold until he could figure it out. But you didn’t know if that would even make a difference. You didn’t know if anything would.

You sat there for a long while after Phoenix left, staring at the kitchen table as your mind raced, desperately trying to put the pieces together. Could you let him go again? Could you really do it?

Your phone sat on the counter, and you found yourself staring at it, knowing the texts from Bradley would come soon. They always did. But you didn’t reach for it. Not yet. You couldn’t bring yourself to open that door again, to let him back into your heart when you were still so unsure of everything—of what he felt, of what you felt, of whether or not he’d make it home.

And then, as the evening wore on, you found yourself pacing the apartment. You didn’t know what you should do. You didn’t know what to feel. Should you show up tomorrow morning? Should you see him off? Should you do what you’d always done—pretend like everything was fine, like nothing had ever changed? Or should you face the reality of it all, admit to yourself that you might never see him again?

The decision was suffocating. You were pulled in two directions, unsure of what the right choice was. Every part of you ached to see him one last time, to tell him what you had never said. But part of you wondered if you were just chasing something that had already slipped through your fingers.

And so, you sat with it, the uncertainty eating at you, and waited. Tomorrow would come, and with it, the moment when you would have to decide whether you could let him go—or whether you would risk it all to see him one last time.

* * * * *

The morning air was cool, but the nerves gnawing at you kept your body warm as you pulled into the parking lot at 6:15. You wanted to be here early—too early maybe—but you couldn’t take the chance of missing him. It had been two months since you last saw Bradley, and now, you had no choice but to face everything you’d been running from.

The lot began to fill as you sat in your car, watching people say their goodbyes—families, friends, all of them hugging and holding on to each other a little longer than usual. Each goodbye seemed to break something inside you, a reminder of what could be lost, of what you had once had and might not again.

And then you heard it. The familiar rumble of an engine. Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced to your right and saw it—the Bronco—pulling in next to you. You didn’t even have to look twice. You knew it was him.

For a split second, your eyes locked through the windshield, the kind of silent exchange that spoke volumes. Neither of you moved for a beat, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you like a thick fog.

You didn’t know who moved first, but before you knew it, the car doors opened, and you were walking around the front of the Bronco to where Bradley stood.

There was a long pause, the air between you thick with everything you were both carrying. Your lips parted first.

“I’m sorry,” you said, the words coming out choked and raw. “I’ve been… so messed up, Bradley. I’ve been pushing you away and—” You stopped yourself, your chest tightening as emotion swelled. “I didn’t mean it. I just… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Bradley’s jaw clenched, his gaze turning hard with guilt before he stepped toward you, cutting you off.

“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing,” he said, his voice low but raw, full of regret. “I took you for granted. I lost you.”

The tears you thought you had already shed seemed to fall again at the sound of his words, and before you could stop yourself, you felt the sting of them, hot and sudden, blurring your vision.

His hands were on you then, pulling you into his arms, warm and solid. He was trying to comfort you, but it only hurt more, the realization that he knew—he knew it was his fault. The pain you’d been carrying had finally broken through, and you couldn’t help it. You cried harder into his chest, unable to control it.

Bradley’s arms tightened around you, his own breath shaky as he pressed his cheek against the top of your head. You could feel the way his body shook with something deeper than just the coolness of the morning air.

And then, between sobs, you whispered it—the thing you’d been holding in, the thing you needed him to hear.

"I love you."

There was no hesitation. No stiffening, no pulling away, just him pulling you closer, if that was even possible.

His voice was rough when he replied, “I love you too, sweets. So damn much.”

The world seemed to stop then, everything else fading into the background as Bradley’s words sank in. The walls you’d built around yourself felt like they were crumbling as the words you’d longed to hear washed over you, finally, finally making everything feel right again.

But even then, the worry gnawed at you, pulling you from the moment. Your voice trembled as you looked up at him, hands gripping his shirt tight, “Come back to me. Please… come back alive.”

His hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours.

“I promise,” he said quietly, and you believed him.

But then, as if the weight of the moment suddenly hit him too, Bradley pulled back just enough to look at you fully.

There was something in his eyes, something that made your heart beat faster as he asked, “Will you be here when I get back? Will you wait for me?”

You nodded quickly, the answer spilling out of you before you could even think about it. “Yes,” you whispered, breathless. “I’ll be here.”

Bradley’s gaze softened, a hint of relief flashing across his face, and then he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was desperate and filled with everything you both had been holding back for so long. His arms wrapped around you tighter, and before you could process what was happening, his hands were lifting you off the ground, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he pulled you closer, his lips never leaving yours.

You heard the whistling before you could think about it, the sound of someone teasing. Maybe it was Jake. Maybe it was Coyote. Maybe even Bob, though it didn’t matter. None of it mattered because all you could feel, all you could think about, was the heat of Bradley’s kiss, the way his arms made you feel safe and wanted, the way he was home in a way nothing else could ever be.

In that moment, there was no question—no more uncertainty, no more fear. You were with him. And that was all that mattered.

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ellieswrldd · 2 years ago

Text

*.✧ arabella ✧.*

pairing: brother's best friend! ellie williams x f!reader

summary: the last time ellie saw you, you were sweet and innocent. now, a year has passed and you've grown up.

content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, a bit of angst, r has a tramp stamp (lower back tattoo) & is described to be a party girl, brief dry-humping/grinding, strap-on use (r!receiving), reverse cowgirl & doggystyle, praise & degradation, use of terms pretty girl & princess, ellie calls the strap her cock

a/n: very loosely inspired by that one ph video..iykyk! also, named after the am song bc i think it give the vibes i was going for teehee

The last time Ellie saw you, it was the summer before your freshman year of college. You were still rather innocent, not yet tainted by the bad behavior of others your age. You didn't party, kept away from alcohol and drugs, and preferred to spend your Friday nights reading in your room.

That was how she remembered you, her best friend's cute younger sister. She knew better than to get involved with you, honest to God, she did. The first day the two of you met, your brother had stated that if she were to get too close, she'd find herself with a black eye and a restraining order. But the last day before you left for college, Ellie found herself uneasy. She was nervous, nervous to be around you.

So when she found herself alone with you in your childhood bedroom, your brother stuffing your luggage into the car, Ellie felt herself losing her cool. It was an innocent kiss, sweet and meaningful. One that started when you began to pull away from her hug and looked at her with those beautiful doe-eyes. Her lips found yours with ease like she had been waiting for this moment. The sweet sigh that escaped you was what urged Ellie to pull away. She let her slim hands drop from your sides and turned away from you, awkwardly rubbing her neck. Ellie mumbled something along the lines of a 'sorry' and a 'goodbye' before going downstairs to talk to your brother. That was over a year ago when you were just nineteen. Now, you were back for the summer, excited to spend time with your brother after being swamped all year. You were different now, to say the least. Even though you were still funny and caring, you were far from the innocent girl Ellie once saw you as. You partied, you drank, and now you spent your Friday nights in the beds of hot girls who caught your eye. The morning after you arrived home, Ellie stumbled upon you in the kitchen. She was staying with your brother for the summer, and while she knew you would come home eventually, she didn't expect you to be so...changed.

You wore a fitted baby tee, cropped just above your navel, and a pair of snug, light-wash jean shorts that seemed to end right where your ass met your thighs. It was something Ellie would have never pictured you in.

You glanced at Ellie from where you stood in front of the fridge. "Oh, hey, Ellie," You greeted her softly, returning your focus to the contents of the refrigerator. "Y/n, I didn't know you were back." "Got in last night," You hummed, closing the fridge door with your hip. "Almost didn’t recognize you,” She chuckled awkwardly. “You seem..." "Sluttier?" You muttered. It wouldn't be your first, not even your third time hearing that one. It was a comment your old friends from high school loved to whisper to one another when encountering you on campus. "Older." Ellie rasped, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants and briefly looking down at her feet. "Hm," You shrugged and bent down to rifle through a cabinet under the kitchen counter. Ellie's breath hitched slightly when she caught a glimpse of thick, dark lines imprinted on your lower back when you bent down.

A tattoo? She thought to herself as a bright pink blush painted her cheeks. The old you would never get a tattoo, you were always scared of how permanent tattoos were.

"I think I'm going to go for a morning swim in the lake, want to join?" Your eyes darted over to her green ones as you asked. "I'll have to pass, maybe some other time," Ellie said. You shrugged and brushed past her to slip out the back door. Watching you walk down the grassy path toward the lake, Ellie groaned softly and turned to go back upstairs.

You weren’t the sweet, pure girl she once thought you to be. You were a woman now. And Ellie was fucking screwed.

~~~~

You found yourself on the couch with your brother and Ellie later that week. The sun was long gone, and the only sounds you could hear were the crickets in the backyard and the audio from the movie playing on the tv.

Your brother sat between you and Ellie, chewing loudly on popcorn and whispering little comments about the movie to Ellie as they watched.

You stared at the tv lamely, you eyes occasionally flicking over to Ellie’s face. She looked just as bored as you were, a little tense if that. Was your presence affecting her?

After the movie finished, your elder brother stretched his hands high above his head and yawned.

“I’m heading upstairs, you coming Ellie?” He asked as he stood from the couch.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be up in a few minutes.” She nodded and watched as he trudged up the stairs.

You flipped through the channels on the tv, purposefully staying silent as you felt Ellie’s eyes bore into you. It was the first time you two had been left alone with one another since your first morning back.

“It’s rude to stare, Els.” You mumbled as you put on another movie. You heard her take a deep breath and shift slightly.

“You’re fuckin’ killing me,” She whispered.

“Ellie—” You sighed.

“Listen, I shouldn’t have kissed you before you left. I know it was wrong.” Ellie interrupted. “But I don’t regret it, and I’m sorry for the pain I must’ve caused you.”

You turned to look at her finally.

“God, you’re such an asshole, Ellie.” You breathed.

“I know,” She said in a voice just louder than a whisper.

“After you kissed me, I lost myself a little bit. I was so confused and I didn’t want to even think about you,” You bit your lip. Every word you were saying was true, you didn’t want to think about Ellie, even just seeing your brother mention her name in a text made you think about the kiss.

You hated it, you didn’t want to think about the kiss because then your mind reminded you how she cowered away after. How she bolted the minute your lips parted. How the girl you had secretly pined after for so many years had simply left after kissing you.

It gave you a reason to drink, to party a little harder than you should’ve. You tried to forget, and you seeked comfort in the arms of different girls.

“And now, well now I’ve changed. I’m not that quiet girl who read on the porch while you did stick-and-poke tattoos with my brother beside me.” You laughed weakly. “I doubt that kiss meant anything to you, but it meant everything to me, and you fucking left without saying a word.”

Ellie stared at you for a moment, her mouth slightly open.

“You’re wrong,” She stated. “It meant so much to me, so much. It was shitty of me to kiss you then, but now that you know how I feel? I’m glad I did it. I would have talked to you and explained myself, I really would have, but I’m a fucking idiot, and I got scared. Does that make you feel better?” Ellie’s voice was a mix of a whisper and a shout as her wide eyes searched yours. Your breath stuttered slightly as you took in Ellie's expression. You had known her since you were merely ten years old when she was thirteen, and she had just met your brother. All those years of summers and weekends spent together, and you had never seen her look like this.

Her emerald eyes were full of need, love, and something else. Regret? Something like that. She looked thirsty, thirsty for your touch, your forgiveness, your loving.

Just like that moment a year ago, you leaned in your lips mere inches away from Ellie's. You felt her hot breath tickle your lips as she exhaled shakily. The sound of your brother walking down the stairs caused you to pull away from Ellie. He rifled through a cabinet, presumably looking for a midnight snack as you stood from the couch. Without another word, you walked past him and went to your room. You typed a quick message and sent it to Ellie. R: come to my room once my brother is asleep? E: I'll be there. Waiting for her was torturous, like waiting for a storm during a drought. Everything was on the table now after both of you completely spilled your hearts out of one another. Hearing that gentle knock on your door made your heart race. With a low creak, you opened your wooden door and tugged Ellie inside your room.

It was still girlish and organized from your high school years, tiny Polaroids and colorful posters littered your walls. It was home, like a snapshot of your old self. Ellie looked at you with an unreadable expression, her hands slowly finding their way to your waist.

“Tell me you want this,” She breathed, leaning her forehead against yours and closing her eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve wanted anything more.” You placed your hands on both sides of her face and leaned in to gently brush your lips against hers. It was just the ghost of a kiss, but as soon as it happened, it was like something snapped inside both of you.

Gentle, loving kisses quickly turned into ones full of fiery and heated passion. Ellie's hands roamed your body, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer to her. Stumbling backward, your legs hit the edge of your bed, and you tugged Ellie down with you. She giggled softly against your skin, pulling you to straddle her hips. "I've wanted this..." Ellie groaned softly as your teeth sunk into the sensitive skin of her neck. "For so long..." She whispered and let her eyes shut. Her hands gripped at the flesh of your ass, slowly grinding your crotch against hers. A sharp gasp left your puffy lips as the friction rubbed against your clit and sent a wave of pleasure through you. "My brother would kill you if he knew," You whimpered as her hands moved your hips back and forth against hers. "So don't let him find out," Ellie chuckled and brushed her calloused thumb against your cheek. "Stay quiet, and we'll be fine. Yeah?" With that, she dragged your clothed cunt across her own, letting out ragged breaths as the two of you needily ground your hips against one another. "M-More, Ellie," You whispered as you grasped tightly at the hem of her t-shirt. "What do you need? My fingers?" She squeezed your ass. "Well," You bit your lip and hesitantly climbed off Ellie. You knelt down to the side of your bed and grabbed a box from underneath your bed. Just about the size of a shoe box, Ellie looked at you with a questioning expression. "I have this, it's brand new." Shyly, you passed a thick purple strap-on to Ellie, your face hot as she glanced at it. "Have you...used one of these before?" She asked cautiously. Ellie was soaked at the mere idea of fucking you with a strap, but she didn't want to rush you into anything you weren't completely sure of. You nodded slowly. "Have you?" She bit her cheek and nodded as well. It wasn't surprising, Ellie had been popular with girls since the beginning of high school and was far from a virgin. "Okay, are you sure you want this? 'Cause once we do this, there isn't any going back." Ellie murmured as she leaned in close to your face. "I'm sure, Els." You kissed her softly and watched as she quickly stripped herself of her baggy sweatpants. Ellie slid the dark straps around her hips, allowing the strap-on to rest comfortably over her navy blue boxers. Effortlessly, she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor of your dark room. She chuckled softly when she caught you staring at her toned torso. "Can't fuck you with your clothes on, princess." Ellie grinned and glanced down at your flowy pajama shorts. You tugged your shorts off first, then your shirt came off, leaving you in only your panties. "Jesus Christ...what am I supposed to do with you?" Ellie mumbled as she watched you lay back on the bed and spread your legs for her. "Whatever you want," Ellie narrowed her eyes slightly, tracing over your nude figure. "Get up," You wasted no time obeying her command, standing up and waiting at the edge of the bed for her next instruction. She sat down on your bed, stretching out her legs and leaning against your headboard. Ellie pat her thigh. "C'mon," You straddle her hips, the dildo resting against your backside as you kiss her feverishly. Ellie took a deep breath and slid her hand past the waistband of your panties, and gently touched your sensitive clit. She brushed the tip of her middle finger along your aching slit, mouth falling slightly agape as her finger slid against your wetness. "So fucking wet," You gasped sharply and bucked your hips against her touch. "Bet you don't even need my fingers, already so wet for me, could probably just put the strap in right now," Ellie muttered against your ear as her fingers teased you. "P-Please..." "Please what?" Ellie cooed, her hands drifting to palm at the exposed skin of your ass. "Fuck me, please fuck me," Ellie chuckled and pat your hip.

“Turn around, pretty girl,” You bit your bottom lip and slowly turned your back to Ellie, your hips hovering over hers as you tentatively waited for her next instruction. "Look, you can see yourself in the mirror," Ellie grinned and pointed to the floor-length mirror in the corner of the room that was angled toward the bed. "Raise your hips and keep your eyes on the mirror." Your gaze drifted back to the mirror, one your brother and Ellie had put together for you many summers ago. The sight you saw in the reflection was wrong, it was all plain wrong. Your brother's childhood best friend aligning the tip of the strap with your entrance, your panties pushed to the side, and concentration painting her face. A choked moan escaped your lips as Ellie gently pulled your hips down onto the dildo. You covered your mouth with a shaky hand, a weak attempt at muffling the cries of pleasure that left you. "That's it, yeah, ride me, pretty girl," Ellie guided your hips, her hands splayed out across your ass, two thumbs aligning with the dimples of your lower back. She watched in awe as you began to follow her lead, slowly bouncing on her strap. "Takin' me so good- knew you'd be all ready for my cock," Ellie grunted. You felt her thumbs swipe back and forth against your lower back as she mumbled incoherent praises. "God, you're so sexy...fucking love this tattoo..." Ellie breathed heavily as she stared at the dark ink that painted your skin.

It didn't take long for you to begin moving without her guidance. Your slow movements turned frantic and needy while pleasure burned deep inside of you. You had been fucked with strap-ons before, but it had never felt quite like this. This was more than just meaningless sex. With each buck of your hips, each movement you made, the strap pushed against your g-spot and ever so slightly brushed against your cervix, stimulating all of the most sensitive spots inside of you. "E-Ellie-" You whimpered, reaching a hand behind you. Ellie groaned and quickly intertwined a hand with yours. "Holy fuck," She whispered as she looked over at your reflection in the mirror. Your breasts bounced slightly every time you quickly sunk down onto the toy, and your expression twisted into one of pure ecstasy. Not to mention, the way your ass rippled when the skin slapped against hers made Ellie nearly lose her mind. Everything was too much, and she could hardly decide where to keep her eyes, or her hands for that matter. Her large hands squeezed at the fat of your ass, digging her fingers into your skin. Then she slapped the flesh playfully, just enough for the sting to fade into pleasure.

"I-I'm gonna-" You gasped sharply as you felt a familiar tension growing deep inside you. "Get on your hands and knees. I'll get you there, princess," Ellie murmured. You nodded and did as she said, leaning forward into doggy style. Ellie paused for a moment to realign the strap with your cunt and to grasp at the waistband of your panties. Soon, Ellie began to thrust into you quickly and deeply. She dragged your hips against hers by the band of your underwear, pulling you back and forth on her fake cock like you were some sort of doll for her to use. A loud smack echoed throughout your bedroom when Ellie slapped your ass. You moaned into the fluffy bedsheets you were pressed up against. "My brother- he's gonna hear us-" You whined as you glanced back at Ellie with glassy eyes. "Don't worry about that, pretty girl, he sleeps like the dead." Ellie laughed softly as she plunged deep inside of you. "Oh! There! Right there!" You practically sobbed when she repeated the same movement over and over again until your legs were shaking. On the verge of your orgasm, your body buzzed with pleasure, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. "Mmh- Els, m'gonna.." "Yeah, cum for me princess, cum all over my cock." She whispered as her thumbs traced the intricate lines of your tattoo and her hips slapped against yours. One of her hands slid around your waist and moved down to begin quickly circling your clit. Ellie was desperate to get you off, she wanted to watch as you lost control of your body and experienced an intense orgasm. That was enough to push you over the edge, you screamed into the bedsheets as you felt your body stiffen and shake against Ellie's. Her thrusts slowed but didn't completely stop, as she wanted to prolong that climax as much as she could. Your senses were clouded with nothing but white-hot pleasure while you rode out the rest of your orgasm. After what felt like a few very long moments, Ellie slowly pulled out of you and sat back on the bed. She undid the straps on her hips and placed the toy on your bedside table. "C'mere, pretty girl..." She cooed softly as she gently picked you up and pulled you into her arms. Ellie lay with you in the bed, her fingers lightly tracing patterns along the skin of your back as she cuddled you. "You did so good, you're so perfect..." She said quietly. You hummed softly in response and closed your eyes. "You better get back to my brother's room, he wouldn't be happy to see you coming out of my room in the morning." "I know, but I'll stay until you fall asleep. Don't worry about me, princess." And for once, you listen to her. You focused on the heat Ellie's body radiated against yours and how peaceful you felt in her loving embrace. It felt right. --- tags: @asteroidzzzn , @ellabsprincess , @ximtiredx

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violetrainbow412-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Birthday wishes [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: everyone seems to forget Spencer's 30th birthday, but he only cares that you remember it.

second part here!

contents: childhood best friends, idiots who-don't-know-they're-in-love, surprise parties, pure fluff honestly

If you like my work leave a comment or reblog, that would make me very happy!

The first thing Spencer did when he got home was get rid of his converse and even though it had been a relatively calm day he was exhausted, so he went straight to the bedroom to throw himself on the bed. He lay back for a while, just enjoying the calm, and then he fumbled for the cell phone in his briefcase. He hit the call button on the contact he'd wanted to talk to all day and then he waited patiently.

“L/N family residence, who do you want me to contact you with?”

"Hello, is Miss Y/N by any chance?"

"Who's looking for her?" you continued and a smile escaped from his lips. It was usual for you to respond in a silly way when he called you, so he was used to it by now.

"Her best friend, Dr. Spencer Reid"

“Spencer Reid? Spencer Reid, I don't think that sounds familiar…” you teased, hearing him snort from the other end of the line “Ah! Wait, I remember you."

“After knowing each other for like 20 years, I hope so” he laughed, and then you too.

Sure enough, the man and you were friends from a very early age. You were his neighbor when he lived in Las Vegas and your parents had always been quite nice to the family, knowing the delicate situation they faced, so it wasn’t difficult for you to become friends. You were the first friend he ever had, a real one, so there was a special fondness between you, even when he had gone off to college at such a young age and distance had subsequently separated the two of you.

You always called each other and every time he visited his mother it was a law that you also received a visit, even if the time was only enough for you to greet each other with a hug. You also traveled to DC a few times because of your work and you even had your own key to his apartment, so if he was busy with a case, you could stay there instead of paying for a hotel. Your relationship was like that of a brother and sister, although as this familiarity grew, it was slightly intervened by loving feelings that you didn’t want to face yet but were definitely there.

You knew a lot about his life from those long-distance calls that happened at least once a week, and right now he was excited about something in particular. He was exactly one week away from his thirty-year birthday, and he hoped that, like every year, you would fly from Las Vegas to see him. It was a tradition, whether it was thunder or lightning, you two hadn't missed a single birthday from the other since he had to move out of state. So Spencer was hoping that this call was for you guys to plan what you were going to do; regularly your birthdays were in restaurants or nice places and his were at home, with food delivery and classic movies, or when you felt very adventurous you could go to a museum or just walk through the streets.

"How are you, Reid? How is everything?"

"Not so good, but not so bad either" he laughed "And you?"

"Everything has been terrible, it's like a curse is on my head, I swear" you complained. Spencer got up from his comfortable position to sit on the bed and although he knew that most of the time you said things like that you were just exaggerating, this time he had a bad feeling.

"Why?”

You started to tell him about the financial problems you were going through and he, with his mind still focused on your visit, thought about offering to pay for your flight to DC, but his spirits fell completely when you told him that you were being put under too much pressure at work.

“We're going to have a meeting next Friday with HR to discuss responsibilities and so on, but honestly I don't think things will get better. Right now I'm working from home because there are pending issues that have to be resolved as soon as possible and I barely have time to think during the day, you seriously can't imagine how busy I've been.”

When you finished the story, he remained silent, feeling his chest squeezed by the direction that things were now taking. With that scenario, your visit was too complicated and he was debating internally about whether he should tell you something about it or not. As he had thought before, the money to have you with him wasn’t a problem, but dealing with the issue of your shortened times was totally different. He didn't want to make you feel guilty for not being able to go, let alone disrupt activities that he knew were important to you, like that meeting you just mentioned. So what should he do? He wanted you to be there, but he wasn't going to make you.

“Crash? You still there?" you asked. Only you and his mother called him that, since his nickname had arisen when he was just a child due to his clumsiness, a trait that, in your opinion, he still retained. It wasn't offensive coming from you, even he was glad to know that this was something that belonged to the two women he loved the most.

"Yes, I'm here. I just was thinking"

"You always do, I don't think there's a single second when that mind of yours rests," you said amused "Anyway, what's new?"

Spencer hoped that you would at least apologize to him for your future absence or ask him what he intended to do today. But you seemed not even aware of it.

“Nothing, really. Today we're done with a case and if I'm lucky I'll be able to rest this weekend” he murmured. Sometimes he would tell you things about the cases, omitting bloody and dangerous details, so he leaned back and started recounting all the events into the speaker of his phone.

You two continued to talk for almost an hour, but the topic of the birthday didn't come up once and Spencer didn't try to bring it up. After all, there were still a few days to go and in the worst case, you could at least call him that day to congratulate him, right?

But as the days went by, the anxiety ate him more and he even called you a few days after that, but he only received a response from your mailbox and after a few minutes a short text message where you explained that you were a little busy with work, but that you would call him as soon as you could. The fact that during those days he found out that the entire team already had something to do on Friday didn’t help his mood too much.

Hotch and JJ discussed a sleepover for Henry and Jack after work, he overheard Garcia and Morgan agreeing to visit a new bar for the night, Rossi said he was going to visit one of his ex-wives and when he thought he could still invite Emily to hang out, she went over to talk to him about the therapist appointment that she clearly didn't want to go to, but had to. There was no remedy, everyone had plans for his birthday and he didn’t want to interfere with them. Resignation was the only thing the doctor had left during the remaining days, and when he least expected it, the entire week had already passed.

He used to wake up to your off-key version of the birthday song and a cupcake with a candle stuck in it, then you'd make breakfast and you'd eat it together; so not having any of that when he got out of bed, he felt his heart break a little. This year he thought he would get your call first thing in the morning, but when he checked his phone he didn't even find a message announcing that there was a case. He didn't want to go to the office to do paperwork on his birthday, but the thought of at least getting a hug from his coworkers cheered him up slightly.

He put on his favorite shirt, a new pair of pants, and the converse that you had given him and he only wore on special occasions, before leaving the apartment. For some reason Spencer enjoyed taking the subway, perhaps more than anyone he knew, and this time he stopped at a coffee shop that was just before arriving to buy something to drink, since he didn't feel like eating anything.

He undertook the entire trip lost in his thoughts and when he least expected it, he was already at the headquarters. He checked his phone, again, but he still didn't get any notifications or missed calls. Many times you had insisted that he get a more modern model and he had refused, but now he was wondering if the advances in technology would have allowed him to communicate with you through a video call. It would be embarrassing to ask Garcia for a favor, so he concluded that he would just wait, after all if he hadn't communicated it must have been for something important.

Upon entering, he greeted everyone with a huge smile and he felt somewhat disconcerted when the others greeted him normally, without hugs or cake on the table. He sat down at his desk to start going through the documents he already had and the others continued on their own business. It was common for Emily or Morgan to come up to him for a chat, but on this particular day it was as if they were avoiding him. Even Penelope, who he swore would congratulate him, seemed to have completely forgotten when he came to her place with the excuse of needing a piece of information from the previous case. When Hotch called him to his office, the man's eyes lit up, believing that his boss had remembered the celebration of the date.

"Can you do me a favor?" he had asked, without taking his eyes off whatever he was writing "Donovan needs to sort some files and honestly he has no idea how to do it and I'm too busy to explain, could you do it?"

Donovan was in charge of the physical file inside the building and it was not usual for him to request this kind of support, but Reid still said yes, and the rest of the day passed with him locked in a cellar full of filing cabinets. He had made sure to take his phone with him and every time he turned it on to check it and he realized that there was no sign of you his disappointment increased. He came to wonder if his mind hadn't been playing tricks on him and, for some incredible reason, he had gotten the day wrong and it wasn't really October 12; but when he saw the calendar, he verified that this wasn’t possible.

“Are you out of punishment yet?” Emily taunted, when after many hours she saw him again by the bullpen. At another time Spencer would have laughed, but right now his mood wasn't quite right for it and he just looked at her, more hostile than he intended. “Hotch left you some documents on your desk, he asked if you could review them before you go. It's urgent,” she informed him.

It was obvious that this would take time and he felt like crying at the thought of having to stay longer than the regular time. It was almost an hour after everyone else had gone home that he finished, feeling somewhat annoyed to find out that even Aaron had already left.

He doubted whether to go home or go to dinner somewhere, because he knew that if he returned to the apartment he would sink into sadness. His birthdays didn't mean anything special on their own, what he liked was to feel loved, to enjoy the company, but above all to see you.

While he was leaving the building, and as if you were reading his mind, a call vibrated on his cell phone. Seeing that it was you, Spencer didn't take more than two seconds to answer, thinking that maybe after the whole day he could improve.

"You won't believe what happened to me!" you said, without even greeting him. It wasn't the kind of sentence he was expecting, but he still decided to listen.

"What happened?"

“There is a boy, at my work, his name is Brandon. Well, Brandon and I have talked a few times now and he seems like a nice person, plus he's pretty handsome and he finally asked me out on a date with him, can you believe it?" you murmured excitedly, and a lump formed in Spencer's throat "We're going out today, the meeting was canceled and we decided to take advantage of the time, but I can't decide whether to wear the red dress or the black and gold outfit that my mom gave me and I need the help of an expert. You have seen both, which one do you think suits me better?

Spencer was quiet for a moment, processing the situation she was going through, and it wasn't until you said his name that he reacted.

"I like your red dress," he murmured, with a sad smile that you clearly couldn't see. He couldn't believe you were going out with a man you'd never mentioned and it affected him more than he expected you to be asking for advice because a pang of jealousy shot through his chest.

You were telling him that you were going to have a date on his birthday.

“I thought the same! I guess that will be the best option."

"I guess…"

"Where are you now? At home?" you kindly asked. Your tone almost made him angry.

“I just got off work. I'm on my way to take the subway"

"Oh, excellent. Today there were no cases?"

"Not fortunately. I'm glad to know that the criminals at least respected my birthday."

With that said, there was a deathly silence between you, to the point where he wondered if you were still on the other end of the line or if you understood what he was implying.

“Spencer, my God, I…”

"It's okay if you forgot," he said, trying to play the matter down, but the tears that were beginning to accumulate in his eyes indicated otherwise. The guilty tone with which you had spoken was more than enough to know that, probably, if he hadn’t mentioned it, you wouldn’t have done it either "Nobody remembered it"

"I'm so sorry" you practically sobbed "Between all the work and stuff I... I don't even know why I forgot, forgive me”

"It’s okay" he replied. But it wasn't okay.

“Can I do something to fix it? Whatever, you just… ask me what you want and I'll do it. I swear," you mumbled, sounding desperate.

He tried to convince you that there was no problem with it and you continued to pour out apologies, which Spencer knew were worthless now but he wasn't selfish enough to ignore them. He wanted to scream, cry, or do anything to get that weight off his chest and even though he loved the sound of your voice right now it was the last thing he needed.

“Anyway, I'm about to enter the subway and uh, I have almost no signal there. I'll call you later, okay?" the question didn’t wait for an answer, because he immediately added: "Good luck on your date, bye"

If he had considered going out to celebrate, he knew that now what he urgently needed was to go home or he would break down in tears in the middle of the street. The ride on the subway lasted longer than he would have liked, as he longed to go to sleep and find out if it would allow him to forget a bit about the shitty day he had just had. When he was finally in front of the door with the number 23 in gold letters, he struggled enormously to put the key into the lock, because the tears in his eyes were already clouding his vision, and he believed that the heaviness on his shoulders wouldn’t allow him to advance.

The key turned one turn, then another, and then Spencer was allowed inside the house.

One week before…

The team was meeting in the conference room at the request of Penelope, who had asked everyone to stay after the scheduled time, waiting to receive the news of what they thought would surely be a new case.

"And Reid?" Morgan asked, noticing the empty chair next to him, because they had seen him leave and that was reason enough to have questions about his absence.

"I'm glad you asked because this meeting is related to him," Garcia replied. With the push of a button, a face appeared on the main screen and almost everyone present was surprised to see who it was "She is Y/N Y/L/N, do you remember her?"

"You were at Prentiss's funeral, right?"

"That's right" you replied with a smile, looking directly at the aforementioned "I still have a little trouble understanding, uh... that whole thing, to be honest" you joked.

"Y/N asked us for this space to discuss something related to Spencer's birthday, which will be next Friday" explained Hotch, who was the other member who was already aware of the matter "The microphone is all yours"

"Okay, so where do I start? It's great to see all of you and I hope you're doing well. Every year I visit Spencer on his birthday and we spend the day together, but since this year is his 30th birthday I wanted to do something special and I want to know if you would be willing to help me”

"Tell us your plan, precious"

“I don't intend to take up a lot of your time, it's simple. I will call him today to insinuate that this year I can’t go and all I want you to do is pretend that day that you don’t remember that it’s his birthday”

"Wait, why do you want us to ignore it?" JJ muttered with a frown.

"I want to throw him a surprise party in his apartment" you explained with a smile and then the request you were making to them didn't sound so farfetched "You can tell him you have plans that day and if he mentions something you just say you can't go. I bought my flight for that day and I will be in the city starting in the morning, so I can prepare everything”

"And how will we do if he invites us somewhere?"

Morgan suggested using a decoy for him and pretending they were taking him somewhere else, but you balked at the idea.

“I have all my hopes that he doesn’t mention anything. If so, we'll manage somehow. And I know that asking for that is difficult because we are all his friends, but if necessary, avoid him completely that day. We need him to know under no circumstances that we have a surprise for him."

“He is very smart and he will figure it out. If we make him believe that we forgot he will concentrate on that” you argued. Although the others didn't want to admit it, they knew that you had a point there "I just hope you don't have some unforeseen case or something like that, because I would hate for that lie to be for nothing"

You discussed some more until you concluded that your plan was the most viable. The girls would help you with ideas for decorations and David even offered to buy all the drinks. Although the others weren’t surprised by his generosity, you were slightly upset, but this didn’t prevent you from accepting the offer and thanking him in advance.

“It really means a lot to me that you guys help me, thanks” you murmured happily, once everything was settled, and then your phone started ringing in the background “It's Spencer! I have to answer him. If something happens, you guys will tell me, right?"

"Take it for granted" smiled Garcia, who was the one who had lived with you the most, but everyone supported her from the bottom.

"Fine, thanks everyone, thanks Agent Hotch, I'll see you later!" you said goodbye, hanging up the video call and simultaneously answering the phone.

Everyone got up from the conference room and Rossi was the first to speak, a smile on his face.

"Call me crazy..." he started to say "but something tells me that girl and Spencer are going to end up together"

"The pretty boy loves her, but he still doesn't notice it," Morgan laughed, as they all walked out. "Whenever we go to Vegas, his eyes shine when he sees her."

“And she's setting this up for him! It's so sweet" Penelope sighed, who had already taken Derek's arm "But the part about being mean to Spencer doesn't convince me much… he's going to be so sad"

"Look at it this way, babygirl: if he's sad he'll be happier than usual with the surprise."

"Nobody's going to screw it up," Emily threatened them, pointing her index finger at them, and the rest of the team promised they wouldn't.

Meanwhile, your first part of the plan was in the works, with the late-night call he had made to you. You had to admit that lying to your best friend was something you hated, but with any luck it would all be worth it when you could hug him and give him that gift that you had carefully kept on one of the shelves, that you hoped could be enough for such an important event like the first thirty years of life.

What happened during the week is history, which was consolidated at the moment he turned the handle without even imagining what awaited him.

When Spencer walked through the door the first thing he did was turn on the light and he felt like he was going to have a heart attack when he heard the screams coming from inside. There were purple balloons scattered all over the floor, a congratulations banner, a table full of presents, and everyone was there.

The shock was such that he couldn't even manage to say a word and some of the tears that he had been holding back were finally able to come out, but this time for different reasons.

They hadn’t forgotten.

"How…? What are you doing here?"

“We came to celebrate your birthday, genius,” Morgan laughed, as he reached over to hug his friend and ruffled his hair brotherly.

A wave of hugs preceded that and even he received a couple of kisses on each cheek from Rossi, which finally made him laugh. He seemed like a child, completely fascinated with everything around him and still processing the situation.

In the midst of it all, he couldn't help wondering how his friends had been able to enter the apartment, since none of them had a copy of the key and the landlady was too suspicious to have let them in just like that, but he felt happy for the direction the day had taken.

“First of all, we have another surprise for you,” said JJ, obviously excited. The rest shared complicit glances and García began to record with his cell phone, which made him a little nervous "But you have to close your eyes."

Spencer looked at everyone else as if waiting for a confirmation of that, and seeing a couple of nods he did what his friend was asking. Just to make sure Jennifer covered his eyelids with her hands and in this way she turned him around, while he wondered what this surprise could be about.

"Are you ready?" she asked and the man answered yes with a hum. There was silence for a second, as if they were checking something, and then she withdrew her hand. "Open them."

Many possibilities went through the man's mind for whatever he would see at that moment, but when he did, he felt his heart stop for a moment. There you were, looking at him with a sweet smile and wearing that red dress.

The rest of those present were waiting for who would make the first move, because the two of you had froze looking at each other, and García was only pointing the camera carefully as you had requested.

"Surprise?" you said shyly, noticing that Spencer hadn't said anything.

You were afraid that after the call you had he was upset with you in some way, but a second after he recovered from the shock he was already on top of you, holding you by the waist to spin you through the air while you laughed heartily.

"You came," he said, his voice cracking, but completely brimming with happiness.

"Of course I would, Spencer, do you think I'd miss your birthday?"

"But you... your work"

"All a vile lie"

"And that boy?"

“There was never such a thing,” you laughed, freeing yourself from the weight of guilt “You're my only boy,” you added affectionately, palms planted squarely on your friend's cheeks. He still had you in his arms and was grinning from ear to ear at your answers "I'm so sorry I told you all that, I just didn't want you to suspect anything, can you forgive me?"

"No!" he practically squealed and you widened your eyes in amazement “Today was the most terrible day because I thought you didn't care about me anymore, you made me suffer! All of you!" your friend complained, looking away from you briefly to look at those present.

"In our defense, she asked us to," Emily laughed, holding up both hands in surrender.

"You're so mean," he murmured, turning his attention back to you. "But I love you so much.”

A group sigh filled the room as he engulfed you in a hug and from your position you could see the teasing or tender smiles they all had. It wasn't very common to see the youngest of the team in that position, much less saying those things, plus we had to add the collective opinion that you were madly in love.

"Seriously, forgive me"

"It’s okay…" he whispered close to your ear "You're here, that's what matters"

His body felt so soft and safe that you didn't want to stop hugging him, but you knew that if you took too long it would create an uncomfortable environment for the rest, so you had no choice but to gently pull him away from you. The woman asked your friend, just to annoy him, if he liked his surprise and although he didn't say anything, the giant smile and flushed cheeks were enough of an answer.

"Come, you won't escape my melodious voice" you murmured after a few seconds, when the commotion calmed down a bit.

Taking him by the hand, you led him to the table where you had the chocolate cake with a couple of candles that formed the number 30. Everyone sang the song while the wick burned down and the boy looked anywhere, with that certain shyness characteristic of him. When he blew out the candle to make his wish, you all applauded and that started the celebration.

There were some appetizers on the table and Rossi had stocked all the drinks quite well, as he had promised. As the minutes passed you hovered here and there to check that things were in order, arranging everything as if it were your own apartment, and Spencer could only smile at how well you seemed to get along with everyone. The last time you'd seen the team was, sure enough, during Emily's funeral, but that didn't mean there wasn't some history between you.

He still remembered the feeling of shame when in the early years he had asked Gideon for permission to summon someone to the hotel during a case in Las Vegas. It wasn't that he was ashamed of you, but that he was ashamed of having to reveal something so important in his life to his FBI colleagues. The agent didn't object at all, but that didn't spare the man from being grilled by Derek and Elle about which mysterious lady their younger coworker was talking to. Over the years, people left the unit, and others joined, but the constant was always you. Even now, if a replacement happened, Spencer knew that the rest of the team would take it upon themselves to introduce you to said person.

At some point he felt a tremendous nostalgia for that time and in a chain of thoughts he came to ask himself if working where he did was the right thing to do. Turning thirty was cause for celebration, but for him it was also tantamount to thinking how well he had lived up to the expectations of what he expected to have achieved at this age: How much progress should he have made in the world by now? Was it any use having that brilliant mind that everyone raved about if he was working in a government office? And what about his personal life? He wanted to get married at some point and wondered if he should be looking for love instead of criminals. Even while he was through all this, he wished he could focus on how happy his friends had made him instead of worrying about other things.

"Up to here I can see the gears of your brain" laughed someone next to him. It was Emily "What's wrong?"

"Nothing" he murmured, shaking his head softly "I was thinking about some things, it's just that"

"You should drink some more, that wine that Dave brought tastes delicious" she smiled, inviting him to come closer to the others to chat.

It was a bit ironic, but completely understandable, that even at his own birthday party he would remain a bit oblivious to the situation. Following Emily's advice, he poured himself another drink and joined the other attendees to enjoy the moment. For hours you laughed and chatted, until the drinks were running out and your drunkenness rising.

The parents of the group were the first to leave and the last was a drunk Penelope who threatened to stay there to sleep, but Derek took it upon himself to guide her to his car to take her home. It was late at night when only you and Spencer were left, amidst all the decorations in the room.

"Peace and tranquility"

"It was too much?" you laughed, knowing that your friend could become overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle.

"No, no. Just kidding"

“And was it okay for you? You had fun?" you asked, referring to the party, as the two of you sat down on the leather couch. The dress you were wearing rose to the top of your thighs and his attention strayed there for a second, so he looked up guiltily; He didn't help the blush on his cheeks that there was your cleavage.

"Everything was wonderful"

"Are you seriously not mad at me?" you insisted

"No, honey, I'm not," he laughed. You tried to ignore the fact that he had said that to you, since it wasn't something he was used to, and just smiled sheepishly, "I mean, at first I was a little, but now that I understand why you did it, I'm not anymore."

“You are already thirty… you are so old!”

"You are older than me!" he squealed, completely offended, and you responded with a laugh. Although that was true, you looked more jovial than the man, something that a variety of people had taken it upon themselves to verify.

"Now that I remember, do you want to see your gift?"

"Isn't this supposed to be my gift?" The confusion was evident in his voice and you refrained from answering, as you bolted into the room. You came back from there with a box in your hands, which you later placed on your lap with evident emotion.

“I wrapped it myself” you confessed, rather proud of yourself. You had found a piece of paper to cover with drawings of equations and small microscopes that you thought captured the essence of your friend and, of course, now that he had seen it, he had liked it a lot.

The man's fingers drummed the surface under your expectant gaze, and then he winced slightly.

"What's up?"

"I don't know, I think maybe I should open it later…"

"Spencer Reid!" you yelled. It was obvious that he was only joking with you and you knew that by the laugh that escaped his lips.

Your friend opened the box almost ceremonially and then removed the tissue paper that covered the contents: above all there were two hardcover books, one about the world of fungi and the other about poetry, next to it an hourglass, then three boxes with jigsaw puzzles, a pocket chess game, packets of Reid's favorite sweets, and last but not least, a picture of the two of you in a pretty chocolate-colored frame and a little paper envelope to go with it. One by one he was taking out the gifts and his smile only grew with each object, while he felt his heart grow with love.

"I remember this day" he murmured, referring to the photograph you had chosen. The sky was blue behind you and you were kissing Spencer's cheek, who was smiling at how spontaneous it had been “We were in a park after going to an art exhibition."

“And we bought the most delicious ice cream in the world”

"I differ, I've had better," he murmured, shrugging. The truth is that you thought that the ice cream had been delicious because of the whole panorama of that day, not so much because of the taste itself.

Spencer knew that photo would have to go on his desk in the bullpen, although the taunts he was sure the others would throw at him. Perhaps having you there would serve as a reminder that there was good in the world, despite everything he could see on the job every day.

“Oh, and I read somewhere that hourglasses help people with anxiety because it's relaxing to watch the sand fall so they can focus on it. I thought you might like it, I bought it at an antique store."

"It's very nice" he agreed, turning the object over and checking that it actually worked "I'll open the note, okay?"

Spencer always preferred that you read his letters in private because if he saw your face and knew you were reading those words he would just cringe, but you didn't seem to share that trait so you agreed to his request. As with the box, he carefully opened the envelope and then pulled out a handwritten note.

I hope you like these little gifts that try to express a huge love.

Never doubt that you are making a change in the world and that you are surrounded by people who love you, including your old neighbor who now ironically lives too far from you.

Happy 30th birthday to my favorite person in the entire world. I am confident that many more years will come for both of us.

Always yours, Y/N.

"Don't cry, Reid" you asked gently, feeling your own tears at the edge of your eyes. Spencer smiled and leaned in your direction to wrap you in a hug so hopefully you wouldn't notice if he got emotional.

"Thank you" was the only thing he managed to say.

He wanted to thank you not only for that day but for years of friendship, years of feeling like he wasn't so alone in the world if he had you by his side and even thank you for treating him like a normal kid when no one else did. And as always, you perfectly understood what he was referring to.

You stayed like that for a few minutes; Spencer tucked into the crook of your neck and cooing at the throbbing on your pulse line, and you basking in the warmth of the contact.

“Did you like the puzzles?”

"Yeah! They are great” he replied, as he moved away from you so that he could observe you “Do you want us to put one together?”

“Sure” you smiled “Just let me put on my pajamas and I'll be right back, okay?”

"Good. You look very beautiful in that dress, by the way. I don't know if I forgot to tell you” he flattered you, making you smile sincerely.

"You chose it, remember?"

Before getting up you kindly squeezed his cheek and after changing your clothes you returned to where you were. He had chosen the puzzle with the design of a Monet painting and spread it out on the floor, where the two of you settled comfortably.

Your friend took a bunch of pieces and you took another and you guys worked in silence until little by little things started to come together. He was very good at the task and very soon he already had a considerable part assembled; although you were going a little slower you followed a constant rhythm.

"Hey, Spencer"

"Yeah?" he asked, too intent on finding a place for the piece in his fingers to watch you.

“What was your birthday wish? When blowing out the candles”

"Oh, I didn't wish for anything"

"Why?" you asked confused.

Spencer looked up from the puzzle and smiled at you.

"Because my birthday wish was already right here"

It seemed obvious to him, but it took you a second to understand exactly what he meant and when you finally did, your eyes gave him the sweetest look of all.

You and your friend stayed up all night until the play was over and after that you both stumbled to bed, where you fell fast asleep in each other's arms.

At some point Spencer half-opened his eyes, prisoner of a bad dream, and when he was aware of the situation he felt the peace he needed. After that it didn't take him long to get back to sleep, with a smile on his face and his whole world held in his arms.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove

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