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#those five as my top five makes sense
shubaka17 · 2 years
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Happy Spotify Wrapped to all who celebrate, and Merry Toyotathon to those who don't
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blujayonthewing · 1 year
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holy mother of god I have got to start dressing weirder
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the-cimmerians · 8 months
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It's 2024. I have been participating in fandom for 40 years. This is a ramble commemorating some history I've experienced along the way.
In 1984, I attended my first convention, and made a beeline for the one long row of covered tables in the Dealer's Room that was, according to the whispered lore of my friends, 'the one'. "um", I said, very suavely and coherently, except for how it was totally the opposite of those things, "I'm here for the... for the, uh. For-"
"Come around here," the man behind the table said with exhausted ennui, so I went around, and he lifted up the table skirt next to him and pointed to rows and rows of boxes underneath the line of tables. "It's all under here."
It was all under there. Along with about five older ladies with glasses, graying hair, cardigans. Flipping through slash zines and chatting in whispered voices like old friends (which of course they were). I noticed one of them had the good sense to be wearing kneepads. I was still too young and ablebodied to need kneepads when crawling on a carpeted floor, but I immediately found her preparedness skills to be both impressive and hot. "You're new," one of the ladies whispered to me--a bit warily, which made sense. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"
In the faint light (the kneepads lady had also come prepared with a flashlight, additional practicality hotness points for her) I grabbed a comb-bound book with a heavy line art piece on the cover, featuring a musclebound Captain Kirk getting righteously and enthusiastically plowed by a stern-yet-ebullient Spock. "This," I said, pointing helpfully at the cover, like I was trying to make myself understood in a language I had only the vaguest knowledge of. "I'm here for this."
Outside at the convention, most of the attendees were wearing large homemade circular pins that shrieked 'K/S is BS!!!'1. But underneath the table, we reveled in the forbidden.
***
In 1985, I fell very hard for Starsky & Hutch fandom. Which was simply referred to at the time as 'the other fandom', because there were only two. We were upstarts. Many fannish elders predicted that it was just a phase.
***
The 'circulating library' was a massive stack of barely-legible pages that smelled strongly of mimeograph ink. When you were on the list, you would write stories while you waited for your turn, and when the big box was mailed to you, you would read everything (new finds, old favorites), add your own sloppily-typed or hastily-mimeographed stories, and then mail the whole thing to the next person. For me, at the time, it was an extremely expensive indulgence--but my favorite one.
***
By 1990, slash fandom had grown enough that I no longer knew everyone in it, which was both thrilling and a bit daunting. A young woman at a convention waited for me after a panel I was part of (I think it was 'writing impactful smut' or something like that), and said she had a question she didn't want to ask in a group setting. I'd heard that before. I said that's fine, go ahead and ask; and she came out with: "Why do you have to be gay?"
I blinked. "Is... that a problem?"
She looked annoyed. "Yes, because your stories are on all the recommendation lists and in all the top zines, but if you're gay and I read something you wrote and I get hot from it that makes me gay, and I'm not gay."
"Wow." I grinned, I couldn't help it. It probably made me look very predatory-dyke-about-to-score-a-toaster. Whatever, it was enough to make her back away from me fast.
When I thought about it later that night, I wondered what it would be like not to be the only queer person in slash fandom.
***
By 1997, slash started appearing on the internet. Many fannish elders claimed it was the death knell of slash fandom, or dismissed it as 'just a phase'.
***
Anyway, I wrote all this for myself as a commemoration of sorts, but if you took the time to read it--thank you. Love you, fandom. I always will.
1 In those days, m/m fandom was known as 'slash', which grew from the fannish shorthand where 'K&S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock having adventures or tribulations or what have you, and 'K/S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock getting it on (Kirk divided by Spock or Spock into Kirk--it was mathy fannish humor and I was into it then and I still am now). Slash was decidedly unpopular in the fannish world in 1984, and there was a concerted effort to force slash authors, artists, and fans out of 'mainstream' fannish public life. Hence, under the table.
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nottsangel · 11 months
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after dark — r.c.
pairing: ghostface!rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: smut 18+, unprotected sex, dubcon, violence, blood, murder, knife play, mask kink, hair pulling, spanking, cursing, toxic, controlling, manipulative and possessive behaviour, oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, creampie, degradation, face slapping, dacryphilia, breeding kink
word count: 4.5k
summary: the bloodlust killer that has been terrorising the town could be closer to you than you might think.
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“Rafe?” you called out to your boyfriend who was attentively watching the TV from beside you on the couch, a deep sense of unease and concern in your voice. “Yeah, baby?” he replied, his eyes still glued to the screen as his warm hand moved to your thigh, giving it a squeeze to let you know that he was listening. “I’m… I’m scared” you murmured with your brows knitted, referring to the news report about a killer being on the loose, terrorising the entire town for weeks now. They played footage taken from a Ring doorbell camera that showed him wearing a black and white mask, identical to the one from the Scream movies to hide his identity, along with a full black outfit.
So far, there has been an estimated five victims, all of them male. Men between the ages of nineteen and twenty-six who are university students were the killer's primary target, it seemed. You were familiar with all of them— you had worked on group projects with a number of these people and even tutored two of them, helping them with subjects that you excelled at to earn some extra cash. To sum up, you saw all of the murdered male students regularly. Fear prickled over your skin as the reporter revealed more shocking details about the murders.
Rafe turned to face you, an empathetic smile swept across his handsome face as he moved closer to you, the palm of his warm hand resting on your cheek as he looked at you with his sparkling blue eyes. “Don’t be scared baby. You know I’ll take care of you, alright? I won’t ever let anything happen to my sweet girl” You fidgeted with your hands and looked down, letting his words sink in. Rafe always took care of you, ensuring that you were happy and healthy— he’d do anything for you. For the first time ever, though, you were unsure if Rafe could truly protect you from a bloodlust killer who has murdered men even bigger, stronger and more athletic than Rafe.
He looked off into the distance, thinking deeply as he released a hesitating breath, “Look, why don’t you stay with me here? Hmm? It’s too dangerous out there for a pretty girl like you. You’ll be safe here, I promise” you met his eyes again and nodded, feeling relieved that you can be with him every minute of the day.
Every minute of the day, that is, unless you were in class, because school life didn’t pause. Why it didn’t was a mystery to you, but the police stated that they had everything under control, which you found hard to believe. It made you feel anxious to be distanced from Rafe during those times. You not only feared for yourself, but for him as well. It became impossible to concentrate in class. Knowing that anyone could become the next victim sent your mind into overdrive. No one was safe.
You took your phone out of your pocket and opened iMessage, scrolling through your conversations before tapping your and Rafe’s. You occasionally glanced up quickly to make sure the teacher wasn't watching you before typing a message.
You: I miss you so much :( Are you okay?
Rafe 💞: Miss you more, my pretty girl. I’m alright, just hanging out with Top.  
His words still made you blush, your cheeks heating up as a tiny smile formed on your face before you quickly looked up, checking if anyone saw you texting. The teacher is lost in her own world, going over theories while you see several other students on their phones as well, evidently bored by the contents of the class. You returned your focus to your phone and started typing a new message.
You: Be careful, okay? I’m scared…
Rafe 💞: Baby, I won’t let anything happen to you, got it? You know I have your location on my phone. I will keep an eye on you. Buy yourself some pretty lingerie and I will help you relax when you get home ;)
Rafe Cameron transferred $500 to your bank account.
Your eyes grew wide before you let out a chuckle at how easily he gives you money when you don’t even need it. You hastily typed a ‘thank you’ message and slipped your phone back into your pocket with a giddy smile on your face before the teacher could notice you.
When class finally ended for the day, you felt a wave of relief, especially since John B, one of your friends, offered to walk you home—well, to Rafe's house. You and John B used to be closer, hanging out multiple times a week, but Rafe’s possessive and jealous nature doesn’t allow you to anymore. Even though you don’t hang out with him now, he still checks in on you from time to time, showing you that he still cares about you, which you appreciate a lot. When you first started dating, John B openly expressed his dislike for Rafe. Despite your numerous attempts to convince him that Rafe genuinely does take great care of you, John B couldn’t be convinced. Their animosity towards one another runs too deep.
The two of you were walking side to side as you approached Rafe's street, wandering by large villas with breathtaking front gardens. John B didn't appear in the least bit afraid or worried and you couldn’t understand why. Everyone, including yourself, was terrified, not daring to go outside unless needed. You eyed him with confusion as you were thinking it over, which he seemed to catch on right away. “What? Do I have something on my face?” he asked, a smile appearing on his face as he continued walking. “Are you not scared, John B?” You asked with curiosity. A small chuckle left his mouth before he shook his head, “Scared? Have you seen him? He wears a silly costume from some dumb movie.” It went silent for a while as you were at a loss for words, wondering how someone could not be afraid of a murderer.
John B soon ended the silence before you could go further into the topic, “Hey, remember when we rehearsed for that play? And we had to dance together and you-“ he laughs while holding his stomach, pausing for a moment to collect himself before continuing, “and you fell and ripped your clothes?” You felt your face heat up and an embarrassed smile crossed your lips before you hit him in the arm. Those were the memories you did not want to relive, embarrassing yourself in front of numerous students and staff members. “Oh stop it! First of all, it wasn’t even that funny and secondly, completely your fault, by the way” You responded, defending yourself but unable to hide your laughter.
“It went like this” John B said before he lifted you up and spun you around, causing you to scream and laugh hysterically. “Stop! I-“ you tried to yell at him but you were laughing too hard, your abdominal muscles hurting. You two giggled as he gently set you back down on the ground before you turned your gaze towards Rafe’s house and your face dropped instantly. Rafe was waiting for you, leaning against the doorframe and standing with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his face as he looked at you both.
You swallowed and gathered yourself quickly before putting on a forced smile and turning to face John B. But John B was staring back at Rafe with an equally as intimidating look on his face, so much so that he stopped noticing you. “Thank you for taking me home. I appreciate it” you said, attempting to defuse the tension before moving slowly in Rafe's direction— but both their eyes didn’t leave each other for a second. Every muscle in your body tightened and the tension in the air was apparent.
You walked up to Rafe, ascending the stairs to his enormous home's front door. “H-hi baby, missed you” you spoke as you drew nearer to him, a whiff of his signature cologne filling your nose. You looked back at John B and saw him heading to his own home, thankfully. Rafe rolled his eyes before he turned around and made his way inside the house. As you nervously followed him and silently shut the door behind you, your brows pinched in concern.
“Baby?” you whispered, trailing after Rafe into the house as you watched his back, his muscles prominent through the tight shirt he was wearing. “Are you angry at me?” You asked in a low voice, worried about the answer. He turned around and came up to you, his large hands cupping your face as he stared directly into your eyes. “I could never be angry at you, sweet girl. You’re my everything. Don’t ever forget that, alright?” he said before you nodded, a wave of relief instantly washing over you. He kissed you on the forehead and you closed your eyes to take in the moment, feeling lucky to have such a caring and sweet boyfriend, you thought. But then the night fell.
“Fuck! No, no, no!” A terrible nightmare about the killer had you breathing heavily when you woke up in the middle of the night. You immediately sat up straight, your chest heaving up and down as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “Rafe?” You called out, desperate for his comfort and affection.
After a short while, there was still no response. Still feeling a little disoriented, your brows knitted as you attempted to sort through your thoughts. But something felt off. You extended your arm around the bed but there was nothing but pillows next to you. This is when you started to feel a little panicked and horrible thoughts pierced your mind like needles jabbing at your skin. “Rafe?!” you called out again in fear, a little louder this time with still no response. You hastily turned on the light, a perplexed frown appearing on your face. The bed was empty. Rafe was usually a very deep sleeper so waking up in the middle of the night wasn’t anything like him. You pushed the blanket off of yourself and stood up, turning off the light again before carefully leaving the room to investigate the situation.
The only sound you could hear as you wandered around his house was the clock ticking as you made your way to the stairs, slowly walking down. His enormous house was terrifying at night, your trembling, sweaty hand gripping the railing tightly. You gasped at hearing heavy footsteps coming from the kitchen downstairs. Tears started forming in your eyes, afraid that anything had happened to Rafe. Scenarios played in your head of the killer entering the house and taking Rafe, torturing him or even worse, murdering him.
When you got to the bottom of the stairs, you took your time making your way to the kitchen while holding your breath. The footsteps became louder now as you approached the person. You were so scared and worried about what you might find behind the wall that tears were streaming down your face. You approached the kitchen cautiously and peeked inside. It took you a few blinks to get used to the darkness, but you exhaled deeply in relief when you saw Rafe in the kitchen, unharmed. Thank god. You reasoned that he must have gotten hungry or wanted to grab a glass of water. You hurried into the kitchen to hug him tight and take him back into bed immediately.
“Rafe? Baby? I saw you weren’t in bed so I-“ you began, feeling relieved to see your boyfriend standing in front of you before your jaw fell as you stood there, unblinking, trying to process what you were seeing. “Rafe…” You gulped and stared in horror, taking in the black and white mask he was holding in addition to the fresh blood on his body. You blinked a few times, thinking you must be still in a dream, but that wasn’t the case— Rafe was still standing in front of you, equally as shocked before he slowly approached you.
“I can explain” He whispered softly, wary of what to say. His expression showed panic as he hurriedly placed the mask down on the table. “Okay, okay, it’s all good. We got this” he mumbled to himself as he rubbed his temples, letting out a frustrating moan. Fear coursed through your body as you stood there motionless and terrified. “Baby, listen, alright? Sometimes-“ he began, pacing around the kitchen at this point, “Sometimes things just gotta happen. We don’t always have a choice, got that? And- and, I just gotta protect you- gotta protect you from all those bad men who wanna take you away.” Your legs felt weak and all kinds of emotions shot through your body. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t do anything. Your breathing quickened as Rafe continued his ramblings. “I just- I just can’t let that happen, alright? You’re my sweet and innocent girl. I can’t let anyone take you from me, never.”
Your trembling hand moved to your mouth and your eyes grew wide when it finally clicked whose blood it was on Rafe. “Rafe? Is that…” you gulped, secretly hoping you were wrong. “Is that John B’s blood?” he turned around quickly and locked eyes with you. “Baby, you know I didn’t have a choice, okay? I had to do it. I need to protect you, protect you from all the evil in this world” He said, trying his best to convince you. You blinked a few times, tears streaming down your face as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. Everything was difficult for you, your head hurting. But you loved Rafe. He was everything to you. He took care of you. He looked after you. In the end, he was the one who was always there for you no matter what. You needed him. You wiped the tears from your face using your shirt's sleeve and glanced back at him, nodding. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and you could see the relief immediately wash over him.
“But…“ Your heart was pounding out of your chest and your mind was racing with a gazillion thoughts. “But what if anyone saw you?” Taking the mask off the table, Rafe covered his head with it. “That’s what this is for” he said, his voice muffled by the mask. You looked him up and down, examining every inch of him, from the ghostface mask to his blood-covered body, the muscles emphasised by his tight outfit. Fuck. You felt something happening inside of you. It wasn't worry or fear— it was something else. Rafe’s masked head tilted as he stared at you, trying to read your expression.
“Wait a minute…” he began, moving closer, “I know that look” Rafe chuckled and he approached you slowly as you took a step back with each step he took forward before your lower back hit the kitchen counter. His face came closer to yours as your breath hitched. He reached over to the kitchen counter beside you, grabbing the knife from next to you and putting it under your chin to lift your head up. “You dirty fucking slut. I see what’s happening here” His face drew nearer, whispering into your ear, “you’re turned on by this.”
“W-What?” you said, trying to sound confused but you couldn’t deny it, you knew he was right. The pointy end of the knife slightly dug into your skin. Instead of feeling scared, you could feel your core aching for him. “Don’t act stupid. God, you’re even more fucked up in that little head of yours than I thought” Rafe chuckled before he took the knife from under your chin and slipped both hands under your ass, hauling you up quickly and tossing you over his shoulder with ease while holding the knife in his hand. You let out a small squeal before he walked you both towards the bedroom.
“Tonight, I’m gonna have to show you who the fuck you belong to.” Rafe stated in a low voice through his mask, causing you to feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. You felt ashamed, as well as a horrible person. Your skin was stained with blood at this point— John B’s blood. But as much as he was your friend, Rafe was your boyfriend, your caregiver, your everything. And you started to think that maybe… maybe he was right. Maybe you need someone to protect you, to keep the bad men away. Maybe Rafe saw something in John B that you didn’t— in the end, you knew Rafe only ever wanted the best for you. You both loved each other forever and always, and apparently, that went as far as killing for you.
Rafe threw you onto the bed after pushing open the door to his bedroom and shutting it behind him. You slightly bounced on the bed before you turned around, resting on your elbows as you looked at him with big, innocent eyes. He stood in front of you, his arms folded and the moonlight seeping through the cracks of the blinds, illuminating your boyfriend’s menacing demeanour— the blood-stained black and white mask, a knife gripped in his right hand, and the slightly torn black outfit, indicating that John B tried to fight for his life. The only features of your boyfriend’s face visible were his blue eyes, gazing directly at you.
“You’re gonna be a good girl and listen to me, alright?” he said, with a harsh and intimidating tone. You nodded as you swallowed, anticipation raging through your body. He slightly tilted his masked head, thinking about what he was going do with you till an idea struck. He approached you slowly, footsteps heavy due to his boots. His right hand played with the knife, showing that he had plans with it. He leaned over you when he was close enough, then slid the knife under your shirt. Gazing at him with wide eyes, you gasped as he quickly tore apart your clothes, leaving you only in your bra and underwear.
“Prettiest fucking girl I have ever seen. Fuck, I am so lucky.” He now placed the knife under the straps of your bra and sliced it open, then he did the same to your underwear and tossed it aside. You let out a small whine, and he turned to face you immediately. “That… that was my favourite set” You sulked as you gazed at the shredded lingerie set lying on the floor. Rafe simply chuckled before he gripped your face forcefully, turning you to look at him. “Don’t be fucking dumb, you know I can buy you every single lingerie set that you want in the whole fucking world.”
Before you could say anything else, he grabbed your body and turned you around, placing you on your hands and knees with your ass facing him. You were soaking at this point, your wetness dripping onto the mattress. You suddenly felt the cold knife against your core, gathering the wetness as you shivered and tried to remain motionless. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dripping. You could’ve just told me you had some fucked up kink for killers, you know. Would’ve made it a lot easier for me” Rafe taunted, and you just knew he was smirking under that mask.
“Grip the sheets baby, maybe even bite them if you need to. Dunno how high your pain tolerance is.” he said, causing you to worry for a moment as your hands clutched the sheets under you. “But I guess we’re about to find out.” He slapped your ass swiftly before you felt the sharp knife against the skin of your ass, digging into the flesh. Your eyes closed and your teeth clenched together as you hissed at the sensation.
“R… A…” he began, as he carved his name into your skin. “It- it hurts” you cried out as you gripped the sheets. “Nuh-uh, not done yet. F…” he continued, unaffected by your whines and pleads. “E…” When he was done, he stood back to admire his work of art. “All done. Looks pretty good if I say so myself.” he said with a satisfied tone. Your eyes began to well up with tears as a result of the stinging in your skin. “All fucking mine.” He said before throwing the knife on the ground.
 “On your knees in front of me. Now” he ordered, and you didn’t waste a second before you were sitting on your knees on the ground, gazing up at him through your eyelashes. His gloved hand brushed over your face before gripping your chin, “You are nothing but my dirty whore. Got that? My property. And I will kill anyone that gets in the way.” You nodded, feeling desperate for him. He undressed himself, leaving him completely naked except for the mask on his face. You observed him— the muscles on his toned body, the blood splatters, his hard cock leaking precum. You needed him.
“Make yourself useful for once” he growled, before slapping your cheek and causing you to hiss. “Suck.” was all he said as he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you towards him. You started by swirling your tongue over the tip and around the length of his shaft, causing him to throw his head back and grunt. He became impatient quickly, as he pushed your head further down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. “Juuust like that, princess, doing so good for me.”You were momentarily taken aback by his sweet words, but you weren’t unfamiliar with his mood swings. You knew what to do to get him to praise you— being a good girl and doing what he says, at all times. You never wanted to disagree with Rafe or reject him. You'd go to any lengths for him.
“Holy fuck” he growled as you continued bobbing your head, saliva running down your face. He had a strong grip on your hair as he fucked your face while you held on to his thighs. He let out a grunt before shoving you off him right before he could cum, sending you stumbling backwards a little. He gestured with his head for you to get back on the bed as he grabbed the knife from the ground. You hurriedly returned to the bed and waited for him on your hands and knees before he positioned himself behind you. He then slapped your ass, making you cry out as the cuts from earlier made it sting even more.
“Aww, does that hurt, princess?” he asked, running a hand over the spot he had just slapped as you nodded, trying to hold back the tears that were starting to well up in your eyes. “But my girl can handle that, right?” he said as he teased your core with his fingers. “My girl can handle anything, as long as she got me.” he unexpectedly slipped a finger into you, causing you to moan out at the feeling. He moved in and out before adding another one, pushing his fingers knuckles deep into you. You arched your back as he curled his fingers and moved them against your g-sport skilfully. Rafe was amazing at fingering, making you squirt and cum countless times. But he quickly pulled out before you could even feel your release nearing, causing you to whine. “I know baby, I know. But I need you to cum around my cock, alright?”
He grabbed your hips and positioned himself at your entrance before he pushed into you in one quick thrust without any warning. You gasped as he buried himself into you balls deep. “Always so fucking tight. Fuuuck” Rafe groaned as he watched his cock disappear into your body. He wasted no time by thrusting in and out of you right away as he stretched you out completely. You felt a hint of pain but it was soon overpowered by pleasure. He set a steady and rough rhythm, massaging your walls perfectly.
“You’re gonna be mine forever, got that? No one will ever get to touch you.” he said as he gripped a handful of your hair and yanked your head towards him. He took the knife from beside him, but you were too cock-drunk to even notice it while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You unexpectedly felt the icy blade against your throat, causing you to gasp. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.” he whispered into your ear, his voice muffled because of the mask as he continued his brutal thrusts along with the sharp knife against your throat. You felt your release building as your wetness trickled down the sides of your thigh. His cock felt so deep inside of you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly.
“Gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you, sweet girl, you’re gonna be leaking my cum for days.” he growled with one hand firmly gripping your hip and the other holding the knife. “Even better if a baby starts growing in that pretty body of yours, so I can fully claim you as mine.” His words made you even more aroused and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release. “I’m c-close” was all you could manage to say as you heard him groan from under the mask.
“Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like the dirty slut you are” his words were enough to push you over the edge as your orgasm washed over you, causing you to see stars and your body to shake. You cried out with your mouth agape as you clenched around his cock. “Good fucking girl”
You could feel his hips stagger and lose rhythm, knowing he was close as well. One last powerful thrust and you could feel his warm cum painting your walls, milking every last drop of his seed inside of you. The grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your skin as he rode out his high. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” he cursed while panting. You collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You attempted to get up but rafe quickly stopped you, gazing at you through the mask.
“Oh, we’re not done yet.” he chuckled, before flipping you onto your back and caging you between his arms, “Round two, princess.”
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i2sunric · 5 months
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𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (p.js)
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pairing: doctor!jay x reader (f)
summary: you’ve always thought dating a doctor was hot until you started realising his job was taking your place— but don’t worry, being a doctor meant jay could always stitch your broken heart up!
warnings: fluff (like, 3am typa fluff), early 2000s au, childhood friends to lovers but they’re already lovers, angst (with comfort) cuddling and kissing, a little suggestive (no smut), they grow up together (narration starts from 18), mentions of stress and fainting, mentions of pregnancy, fighting, if more lmk. NOT PROOFREAD.
published: 29th April 2024
wc: 10.5k (longer than i intended ;-;)
tag list: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @wtfhyuck @kim2005bomi @luvpjs7 @sundoie @sunghours @anittamaxwynnn @tinie03
It was the last summer of senior year at high school, the year that everyone would choose what path to undertake, the life they wanted to live, the job they wanted to get.
As scary as it sounded, you didn’t want to think about it yet, just to focus on living your last summer as a teenager before adulthood kicked in with all its difficulties and challenges.
You were laying on the bed at Jay’s holiday cottage at the lake, the temperature of the afternoon was too hot to let you stay outside, so you seeked some escape from the humidity in his bedroom. The grids were only slightly open to let some sun rays enter the room, just enough not to turn on the light.
You were reading a pook, wearing only a dump swimming suit and a pair of jeans shorts, you drenched the sheets but you knew it would be perfectly dry by the evening, so you didn’t really care.
Jay laid on the other side of the bed, your feet beside his head as he studied an anatomy book. You had a clue on how difficult it was to enter the medicine faculty, but seeing your boyfriend giving up his whole summer just to bury his nose in those headache-bringers books made you feel sympathy for all the doctors.
The book in your hand had become boring five minutes before so you just closed it, letting it rest on your chest. You nudged Jay’s arm with your foot “I’m bored.” You let out a small sigh
He looked up from his study material and gave you a soft smile before reaching out to pat your ankle. "I know you're bored, baby. But I'm only an hour away from finishing this.” Jay gave you a reassuring smile
“After I’m done we could go outside and sail the small boat?” A couple of minutes of silence passed and he was ready to you making a fuss about how boring and dull studying was until you said “Or maybe I can help you with your studies?”
"You sure that you wouldn't mind helping me with my studies?" He replied, raising his eyebrows. He let go of your ankle, but he quickly pulled you by your knees while you were curled up on his bed and laid you on top of his lap instead, so now you were using his body as a mattress.
“I’m not as smart as you,” You murmured, snuggling comfortably on his chest as he placed the book in front of both your faces. The amount of latin and difficult words made you close your eyes right away “I’ll just flip the pages when you need.”
Jay let out a low chuckle and pressed a featherlight kiss on your head. It was a small team game, he tried to involve you in his studies, making you ask him some questions to know if he had said it right.
You felt a warm sense of pride in your chest to know that your boyfriend was working so hard for the sake of his dream. You flipped to a page that had a big skeleton drawing on it, beside it there was a man with all the muscles without skin.
You scrunched your nose at the amount of names all the bones and muscled had “You memorised all those names?”
“Not as easily as others do," He confessed, letting out an audible sigh as he caressed your head. "I find it easier when I explain the answers to someone who's willing to listen."
You looked up to his face, your eyes shining with endless love “I’m always willing.”
Jay gave you a sheepish smile, hooking one arm under your knee to intertwine both your legs together. He squeezed your hip in response and you two resumed studying together.
After around fifteen minutes, you started to become bored again. All those letters made your eyes feel heavy, you blinked them a few times “Are you done yet?”
He chuckled softly as he shook his head from side to side. "I still have to memorise more chapters," He sighed, looking up at you with an apologetic grin.
Despite his efforts, it was clear that he was having troubles memorising the contents of the page, and even he knew he was going to be up for quite a while more.
You caressed his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his body even under the white sleeveless shirt he was wearing.
You toyed the necklace you had given him for his fifteenth birthday in your fingers, the same jewel he had sworn to never take off “What are you studying now?”
He raised his eyebrows and looked down at you, smiling as he watched you play with the necklace. "Right now I'm studying about different body systems and conditions, the respiratory system." he said, looking back down at you
You laid your ear on his chest and he fell silent, you tried to hear his breath and commented with a forced funny voice “Your lungs function well.”
“I guess they do.” Jay chuckled, rubbing your back as he continued to study.
The room fell silent once again but your head was full of thoughts.
You started thinking about your future, you pictured yourself in different situations or workplaces but none of them seemed good enough. Or maybe it was you not good enough.
"You know, it's admirable that you already know what you want to be in the future..." You murmured, snuggling closer to him.
The corners of his lips spread into a small smile as he heard your compliment. "Is it admirable for someone my age?" He asked softly, brushing your hair out of your face
“Uh uh,” You hummed, flipping another page for him “I don’t know what I want to be,” You confessed quietly “I don’t see myself anywhere.”
Jay raised his eyebrows as he stopped studying for a long moment to give you his whole attention.
He then looked down at you and lifted your chin to face him. "Are you really unsure about what you want to be in the future?" He asked, his eyes searching for yours.
Your eyes met his deep brown once, and you shook your head, feeling vulnerable. “No, I don’t.” You sighed softly “My mother… My mother wants me to go to some sort of job counsellor.”
Jay let go of your chin to caress your back again “That’s a great idea, actually.” He encouraged, smiling gently. “I mean, it’s better to ask for help now than choosing something you don’t want to do… ain’t it?”
You hummed, dropping your head on his chest “I guess so.” Your tone went quiet and he had been with you enough to know you didn’t want to discuss that topic anymore.
A few minutes passed by and your yawn caught Jay’s attention. He caressed your head, letting his hand run through your hair “You should get some sleep, Y/N.”
“And who’s gonna flip your pages?” You asked, your tone sleepy and your eyes clearly fighting to stay open
He chuckled, placing an incredibly soft feather-like kiss on your nose “I can flip them myself, you look like you’re going to pass out from your tiredness.”
“I guess I could.” You rested your head more comfortably on his chest and closed your eyes. “But when I wake up you better be done studying.”
Jay nodded “Alright baby.” He smiled, watching as you drifted off to sleep right there in his arms. At moments like that, he thought he was the luckiest man alive to have you— and he planned to never love you.
⪩⪨
College years had arrived and to no one’s surprise, you and Jay were still a couple. Seriously, you two loved each other too much to stay away from the other, even with your busy schedules.
You were laying on the lower bunk bed in his dorm. His roommates were out for dinner and left the whole house for you two. And obviously, what was Jay doing instead of spending time with you? Studying.
You acted like you didn’t really mind, flipping through the pages of a magazine. But seeing his back facing you, his hand moving as he was scribbling things on his notebook— you couldn’t help but feel sorrow.
“Are you going to study the whole night?” You asked quietly, not wanting to sound rude as you rolled on your wide to face him.
Jay raised his brows and finally turned around to look at you. His face was tired, pronounced dark circles under his eyes and he had probably skipped his self care routine for a few days. That didn’t make him less attractive, though.
“Pretty much,” He replied “I’m kind of behind on a lot of study materials.”
“Oh.” You nodded, shifting again to face the mattress of the other bed on top of Jay’s. He took in your bored expression and grimaced “You know you don’t have to stay here while I study, right?”
“But we don’t have time to spend together apart for some evenings,” You stated, looking back at him with a pout.
He chuckled softly, letting out a quiet sigh before closing his study materials and walking over to the bed. He climbed in beside you so he was under the covers with you. He then pulled you in and cuddled you tightly. "I know," He murmured, squeezing you a little tighter “I know baby.”
You rested your forehead on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I don't want to disturb you.”
Jay laughed quietly as he kissed the top of your head. "You're not disturbing me in the slightest bit, so don't apologise,"
He said, running his hand through your hair gently. "I honestly don't mind having you beside me while I study." And you knew that, but sometimes you felt as if you were just an element of disturbance in his daily life.
It all started when you saw him fall into a deep slumber anytime he sneaked in your dorm, like he hadn’t closed eye for weeks; then how he’d always find a way to escape your dates to review a few materials and like now, when he’d study with only you in the room.
You knew he didn’t do it on purpose, he was just trying to survive college, and you felt guilty to have such resentment.
You looked up at him from his shoulder “I just… miss you nowadays.”
His eyes instantly softened "I miss you too.” He sighed “I know I’ve been studying a lot more lately, and I understand if you feel like I'm not spending enough time with you," He admitted.
“And I understand that you’re busy,” You acknowledged “You always work so hard for your degree.”
Jay smiled sadly and rubbed your arm up and down "I know I study like crazy, but it's because all of these things matter so much in the future.” He started explaining “It means that I'll be able to have a more secure job and..." he sighed again and paused before continuing “And i wouldn't have done this if I knew I couldn't spend time with you."
Your brows knitted “Don’t say that.” You raised your head so you could look into his eyes.
“You’ve been wanting to be a doctor since we were kids, Jay, And—“ Your voice cracked a little “I can’t guarantee we’ll be forever together, but you’ll always have a stable job with the degree you’re studying for.”
Jay nodded “I know that too…” He rubbed his temples, frustrated “I just wish I could spend more time with you.”
You smiled and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek “It’s okay, when exams season is over we’ll go on a small vacation, sounds good?”
He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms tightly around your body while pulling you closer towards him. "Sounds nice." he murmured, planting gentle kisses on your forehead “Although…”
You asked in a quiet voice "Although?" Jay looked away, “I still have a big exam coming up next month," He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know how well I’m going to do, honestly."
“Oh,” You gulped, blinking “And why do you think so?”
Jay gave you a half-smile "I Just feel like I'm not studying enough. The material i need to memorise.. It’s so much— I'm worried that I won't be able to remember most of it when the time comes."
You stayed silent for a few beats, trying to find any solution to help him “Maybe we should do a no-contract month?”
It took him a moment to process what you said "A no contact… month?" Jay repeated, looking away at the wall "Do you mean.. as in no contact with each other? For the entire month?"
You nodded slowly, not sounding sure of your own choice “So you don’t have any distraction and can concentrate on your classes?”
He raised his eyebrows, letting out a long and steady breath before speaking. "I understand it might help me with my studies, but.." Jay looked away from you again, unsure "Don't you think it's a bit too extreme?"
You fidgeted with the blanket, looking down “I know..”
“I mean... it seems pretty extreme." His fingertips then began to massage his temples. "You're right though, I do get pretty distracted when we're together, and my studies have been lacking because of that."
You tried to mask the pain you felt in your heart with a small smile “It’s just a month.”
Jay couldn't help but frown at the idea of not talking to you or seeing you for an entire month. "Yeah, but—" he started, but then suddenly realised. "Wait, does this no-contact month also mean that we can't meet either?"
“People usually do it after a break up, but we can do it just to focus on college. It’s like we’re off but we aren’t, we just don’t talk to each other for a month.” You exclaimed, nodding
He bit his bottom lip “We really can’t meet for a whole month? At all?”
“Baby, listen,” You caressed his cheek, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I don’t like this either, but it’s for the best?” You asked “I don’t want to get in your way.”
He sighed once again “You’ll never get in my way, never say that.” He then slowly nodded his head.
"I completely understand your point, but...it just feels way too bizarre.” His brows were furrowed. “I mean, we're used to talking every day, for us to stop talking for an entire month, it's just..." His words trailed off as he sighed and looked away.
You moved some hair away from his forehead “Just until your next exam.” You said “I’ll work my part time job, save some money and we’ll rent somewhere for a week, just us.”
Jay looked at you, worry painted all over his face “And you’re sure you’re completely okay with doing this?” You gulped down “No,” You whispered “But I’ll have to.”
He seemed to debate your suggestion, silence filling the room. After a couple of minutes, he caressed your cheek “Fine, I guess it's what's best for the both of us right now." He murmured.
“Just stay with me tonight,” You begged, “We’ll start tomorrow.”
His heart broke a little at your wobbling bottom lip “Let’s make the most of the night, my roommates will be back in early morning anyways.” Jay was still surprised you suggested that weird break, and he was even more stunned he had accepted.
You took his face in your hands, bringing him in for a kiss. “I love you.” You murmured on his lips.
Jay softly smiled against your mouth before he kissed you back, wrapping his arms tightly around your body as he started to pull you into him. His arms squeezed you more as he deepened the kiss a bit more, letting out a soft groan into your mouth. "I love you more.”
“No, I love you more.” You stated. He smirked and shifted position so he was now on top of you, resting his weight on his elbow not to crash you down “Bet?”
His hand cupped your cheek before slowly sliding down on your chest. You gasped since it was cold. “Jay… someone might hear us.”
“I don't care,” Jay shook his head, his tone breathless. His mouth claimed yours once again, full of unspoken but mutual feelings “Be mine for the night.”
“I’m always yours.” You said, letting him do anything he wanted, knowing you had made an oath to never leave his side.
⪩⪨
Finally, college had almost finished and it was the last day before university. Anyone would’ve been on cloud 9 but you felt a pang of sadness. It meant you and Jay had to part ways, the university he had chosen was in the big city, five hours away from your hometown.
You waited for him outside the graduation hall, seeing groups of overjoyed students throwing their hats in the air.
Jay came out of the room, rushing after having read your message. He wore his graduation gown and looked ever so perfect.
He saw you, a bright smile immediately appeared on his face as he started to walk to you.
He was incredibly nervous about leaving for college and it showed on his face as he approached you, but seeing you there made everything else seem a bit less threatening.
He finally reached you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "You came," he said softly, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
You hugged his chest and whispered “How could I not?” Jay squeezed you back as he grinned, "I'm glad that you did, but I was already sure you would.”
He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek “You never miss a single big milestone of mine.”
“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, doc.” You teased him with the nickname, but your teary eyes gave away your true feelings.
“This year has gone by so fast.” He murmured, caressing the back of your neck "And of course I’m stuck with you. I wouldn't have it any other way." His smile was so gentle it made you fall for him over and over again.
But the grin on his face disappeared as quickly as it appeared, making you frown “What’s wrong?”
Jay shook his head, “I’m just worried about us now since we'll have to do long distance."
Your lips trembled but you still managed to let your words out “We’ll be okay, right?”
His heart sank as he noticed your trembling lips. He gently squeezed you and gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Of course we'll be okay. If anyone's going to make long distance work, it's the both of us.”
Jay caressed your cheek with his thumb “I believe in us, and I’m going to come back as often as I can so we have time together. It'll be okay."
“Right,” You forced out a smile “We’ll make it work.”
“I’ll be back for summer, we can always go to the lake cottage,” Jay reassured, knowing you’ve always loved your summer trips to his holiday house
“And whenever we have a holiday—" He muttered, a small frown appearing on his face when he realised that you wouldn't be able to see each other as often as they used to.
You couldn’t hold it anymore and a few tears fell down your cheeks, you sniffled “Of course.”
His eyes widened when he noticed you were crying "Hey... hey, hey, hey," He murmured softly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "Don't cry right now, everything's going to be okay, mh?”
“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, smiling with sad eyes “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
Jay’s face contorted into a painful expression, his heart pounding heavily in his chest.
He had always hated seeing you crying, but knowing that he was the reason behind your tears made his stomach close. “You know that I'm going to miss you just as much as you'll miss me once we're long distance, right?" He asked.
You chuckled and nodded, sniffling once again “I’ll be here waiting for you, Jay.”
"I'll be back for you every chance I get," He promised, squeezing you a bit tightly.
"Remember to keep in touch constantly, alright? No matter how busy we are, let's always make time for each other over the phone." Jay took out his phone from the pocket. “I bought this new Nokia only for you.”
You smiled widely and showed him your phone, a Nokia of the same type just in a pinkish colour “I bought this for you too.”
Jay pulled your face close to his chest, caressing your head and hair in a gentle manner, just like he always did.
He never failed to make you fall for him with every small action, treating you as if you were worth it. And to him, you were worth every fight, every difficulty coming with relationships. He’d endure it all just to be with you.
“I’m sorry,” You took a deep breath, trying not to let your voice shake. “I didn’t even congratulate you.” You smiled widely, “I’m so proud of you, baby. I really am.”
Jay hadn’t realised how much he needed to hear that until he did.
“Thank you. Seriously, thank you, for always being by my side.” He placed a featherlight kiss on your forehead "You know, since it was your graduation today as well... Maybe I should give you a graduation present.” He trailed off “I actually have a surprise for you, if you would like it."
Your brows shot up in surprise “You do?” Jay nodded and motioned you to wait.
He battled a little with his gown before retrieving a tiny velvet box from the pocket “Here you go, baby.” Your eyes scanned it, “What is it?”
Jay bit his bottom lip to hide his smile “Open it.” He held it out for you to take. You gave him a small stare before opening the small box, revealing two couple rings.
Inside there was also a note that said ‘One day you'll get the wedding ones.’ Your breath hitched.
He smirked as he watched the expression on your face change, becoming incredibly surprised and even a bit teary-eyed as you opened the box.
His eyes softened as he glanced down at the rings “I know they're not the actual wedding bands and it'll take a while until we get to that point... but I wanted to give you these as a symbolic gesture of me promising that we'll be married someday."
You mumbled nonsense for a few seconds, happy tears rolling down your cheeks as you felt overwhelmed by his sudden actions “I love them, I love them so much— I love you.” You blurted out.
Jay held you against his chest as you both embraced each other. "I love you too," He whispered, burying his head into your hair. "I love you so much."
“Oh lord,” You stumbled a little back to look at the rings once again “How much did you pay— They look so precious.”
“Don’t mind that,” Jay wiped the remaining tear stains “You’re worth it, so very worth it.” He tucked your hair behind your ear “And you’re right, they’re precious. Like you.”
You rolled your eyes and hid your face in the crook of his neck “You’re so romantic.” Jay planted a small kiss on your head “You like it when I’m romantic.”
You stayed like that for a few more minutes, just melting into each other’s embrace.
You then sniffled and took one ring out of the small box “Doc, would you mind giving me your right hand?” He chuckled and held his hand out for you “Not at all.”
Jay smiled back as he let you place the ring on his finger, his heart instantly warming up when he realised how real this all really is.
He was finally going to be able to say that he was officially engaged, that he was soon going to be married to you. Jay looked down at the ring as you finished and his eyes started to tear up a bit.
"Thanks," his voice barely came out of his throat, but he was still able to softly smile.
You then gave him the small box and held out your hand for him. He gently squeezed your hand “Shall i?" He asked as he motioned towards your finger, wanting to put the other ring on it.
“Please, do.” You whispered, the anticipation killing you.
Jay carefully took out the ring and looked it over for a couple of seconds.
He then slipped the ring on your finger very slowly, making sure that it was fitted well “It fits perfectly.” He commented, kissing your knuckles, barely brushing his lips on them, like a true gentleman.
You sniffled again and let out a euphoric chuckle before wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your lips on his, never wanting to get away from that boy.
The moment you kissed him, his arms tightened around you, not wanting to let go of you ever again.
He had never felt this way before until you came into his life, back in third grade. He had truly felt complete, that he had finally found the person he would spend the rest of his life with. “I want you always," he mumbled softly between the kisses.
“I want you forever,” You murmured back with the same sincerity. He kissed your lips once more, needing to fill his nostrils with your sweet scent, his mouth with the taste of you before he had to move away for five years.
⪩⪨
A couple of years passed and between ups and downs, you and Jay were still strong. Long distance was difficult, you couldn’t lie, but keeping yourself busy with your small café and meeting whenever you two had free time was enough for you. Besides, you could still call with your matching Nokias.
Which was your plan for that afternoon, you sat down on a table at your café and dialled his number, mindlessly playing with the ring on your finger as you waited for him to pick up, hoping it wouldn’t go to voice mails.
One the call reached Jay, he smiled as he recognized your number on screen, picking it up immediately. It had been some time since you both had called each other, so hearing your voice brought a smile to his face before he opened his mouth and greeted you. "Hi, babe.”
“Hey,” You whispered, relief evident in your tone “Am I calling in a bad moment?” You asked, hearing chatterings from the other line.
“No, no, not at all.” He sat down on a bench outside his university building “What are you doing? Just working?”
“Yeah,” You sighed “But business hasn’t been going well nowadays.”
His heart instantly sank as he heard about how business hadn't been well. He wanted to be your support system always, even when he wasn't there physically as much as before. “Oh no… I mean, you're doing your best with it, right?"
“I guess I am.” You replied "No, you are." He quickly corrected you “Do you want me to come over so that we can talk about it? We can work on solutions or at least brainstorm."
You were quick to dismiss “No, don’t do five hours of train just for a small complaint of mine.”
Jay tried to recall in mind his schedules, he had finished lectures for that day, which meant he could come to you and then take the late evening train back to the city “Baby… Don’t tell me not to come over if you need me there.”
"I’m serious, Jay, it's okay," You murmured quietly "I just needed to hear your voice, if you have free time you should use it to rest."
The way that you cared for him made his heart beat fast. "I'll gladly come over," He said softly. "I have time to spare. plus.. if I come over, I can actually hug you and comfort you better than over the phone, can’t I?"
“You already came over three weeks ago.” You stated “I know, but like I said, I’d rather spend time with you than not.”
You dismissed him once again “I’m fine Jay, you don’t have to.”
“Babe, don’t tell me you’re fine if you’re not.” Jay pleaded “I don’t think you are, let me come over.”
You stayed silent a few beats “What about uni?” He knew you’d ask “I finished classes for today, I can come over for a few hours and then come back before classes tomorrow.”
You sighed, your voice cracking a little “I could really use one of your hugs.”
“Okay,” Jay breathed out “I’ll be there, wait for me at your café.”
Hating that he couldn’t teleport right to you, he hurried to the train station and waited, knowing you were going through a rough path.
You hardly ever asked for help, and Jay was sure whatever was going on had been haunting you for a while for you to call him in such a state.
After a few hours, the door of your café opened, making the small bell ring. You turned around and started saying “Welcom—“ When you realised it was your boyfriend.
Jay entered the cafe, his eyes instantly searched for you and his face lit up when he found you. It wasn’t hard, you were the only one there.
You were running towards him and he felt his whole heart melting. His arms were wide open and he smiled warmly, taking you into a warm embrace.
Jay immediately pulled you close to his chest, burying his head in your hair and breathing you in.
It had been three weeks since he last was at your side and the scent you had filled his lungs as he finally was this close to you again took him aback by how familiar and comforting it was.
You sobbed quietly, letting out all the tears you’d been holding as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, smelling the familiar scent of lavender of his clothes softener.
Your whole body quivering almost uncontrollably, and he knew you were hiding so much sadness behind those tears. “Shhh... shhh.. It'll be okay," He hissed softly, his voice calm and soothing as he kept whispering those same words to you over and over again.
You pulled away slightly, your whole face contorted in a frown “They want— They want to shut it down.”
Your sentence lacked context but he realised that your cafe was probably going to be closed down soon.
He didn't want your business to close, especially when he knew that it was your pride and joy. He pulled you back into his chest again, “It'll be okay. We'll figure something out.”
“It won’t!” You snapped, your voice breaking “It never does…”
Jay’s heart hurt even more as you shouted, your voice sounding so defeated and sad.
He didn't like the harsh reality you were facing and the fact that you would be going through this— Jay was supposed to protect you from the world, but he had neglected you for too long.
“Oh God—“ You blinked faintly, realisation hitting you “I didn’t know why I shouted, I’m sorry.”
The corner of his lips turned upwards briefly. "Hey, don't apologise for showing emotions." He gently dried your tears "It’s just... so frustrating to hear how you're losing something that you care about, that you've put so much effort in and that you're so passionate about."
You let out a bitter chuckle “It always goes this way.” Jay wanted to scold you for always thinking so low of yourself and never fighting, but he was in no position for that.
“I don’t know what to do,” You shook your head to emphasise your words “If it shuts down how will I pay the rent? I won’t have any money.”
Jay could feel you panic and didn’t want that stress and worry to get to you. "We'll figure something out," He said as he gently cupped your face and lifted it up so that you were staring at him. "We'll figure something out. You're not going to be in this alone, I promise."
You shook your head once more, sobbing “I’ll have to move back with my parents— we’ll be even further away.”
The possibility of you moving into your parents' home still made him feel sick. He wanted to keep you close to him and wanted to share a home with you.
He wanted to move in with you, not have you move back to your parents' house.
"Y/N, it's not going to come to that," He muttered softly, kissing your forehead. You sighed and let yourself go, your weight pressing on him “I’m just so tired.”
“Let me take some of that weight off you, baby,” Jay whispered “I’m here.”
You stayed silent a few beats, letting the mere presence of Jay put back the shattered pieces of your soul. “You just had five hours of train and all I did was complain.” You dried your tears with your thumb.
You showed him a faint smile “Sit, I’ll make you a cup of coffee.” He nodded and walked to the nearest table, sitting down.
You made him a cup of coffee and sat down on the chair opposite to him, smiling “It's on the house.”
He grinned softly as he took the cup, the smell of the coffee filling him with delight.
It was such a simple thing and yet it meant so much to him, given you made it. "Oh, so even though you're in a rough patch, your hospitality has not gone," he teased playfully before taking a sip.
“Call it boyfriend pass.” You winked at him. You then cleared your throat and fidgeted with the ring “How’s uni?”
Jay took another sip “Just uni, lectures… assignments here and there, many exams.” He trailed off “Just very busy.”
Your brows knitted in guilt “I’m so sorry you had to come here.” Jay took your hand in his, your rings tingling as they touched “You needed me, You needed comfort." He chuckled lightly. "And there's nowhere else I should have been other than here."
You answered with a smile and took your chair, scooting close to him. You put your head on his shoulder “Want me to stroke your hair for a bit?” He asked and you nodded “Please.”
Jay started stroking your hair, sipping the coffee with the other “How do you feel right now? Better?”
You chuckled “Less like a wreck.” A few minutes of silence followed until Jay asked “Are you scared of losing the café?”
"I feel like all the efforts I made weren't enough." You closed your eyes "I should've settled for a more stable job."
"But that would've made you so unhappy, you know?" he spoke softly. "Baby, I feel your enthusiasm every time you talk about your café, don’t regret something that made you happy.”
“What about you?" You raised my head and rested your chin on his shoulder to look at his face "Do you ever get so tired of studying you want to quit?"
"Sometimes," Jay admitted. “There were plenty of all night studying sessions that kept me up and made me question how I got to this point in life." He laughed, nudging your side playfully.
"But I would've never thought of quitting. I know it's going to pay off in the end." You hummed “Of course, You always work so hard.”
"And so do you," He whispered softly, squeezing your hand gently. "Sometimes I don't understand how you work at your cafe for so long and still have energy left to do other things... and sometimes I'm just worried about you overworking."
“You don’t push yourself too much right?” He asked, his voice laced with worry. Your sudden silence made him wonder if you were not telling him something.
“I fainted once.” You confessed. His grip tightened around your hand as he looked down at you, “You fainted? When? Why didn't you tell me about it?"
“Before Christmas break.” You whispered “It was exam season, I didn't want to distract you.”
It was in moments like those that Jay felt like giving everything up. Because why on earth would you think you were being a burden, a distraction to him when you literally fainted?
"No, no... you should have told me, even if I was busy. I would've come to you then." You sat up properly “I didn’t want you to.”
He was speechless for a minute, his mind trying to process what had happened. "Why wouldn't you want me to know? How could you go through it on your own?”
"Jay, Jay," You said, taking his face in my hands. "I'm grand, alright? I'm doing fine."
"I don't like that you hid something so serious from me," Jay muttered softly, his eyes meeting yours. "It's too important to hide from me."
“I know,” You nodded, letting go of his face “And I’m sorry.” Jay nodded at your apology “How did it happen?”
You sighed “I couldn’t afford to keep other workers so I had to run the café alone, I ran around and around and then I had a few other things.” You gulped down, recalling the moment “I went to bed feeling a little dizzy, I paid it no mind but the next morning as I woke up I fell flat on the floor.”
Jay’s whole world shuttered. He looked down to the floor, his jaw tense as he took in your words “You should’ve never ignored those signs, Y/N.” He called you by your name only when he was serious, his low voice sounding a little scary
“How could you—“ Jay took a sigh, trying to calm down “It could’ve been worse, something could have happened while you slept, you could’ve hit your head..” He looked as if he was on the verge of tears.
“Jay..” You murmured “I’m okay now, I know the risks I took, I was incoherent.” You took his hand in yours “It won’t happen again.”
“I should just transfer back here.” He got up from the chair, pacing around the room “I can take the train everyday to the city, I can do that, yeah.”
“No.” You stopped him “Jay, no.”
“Yes,” He turned around, facing you. His breath was heavy “Y/N, you— you could’ve died.”
“I didn’t.” You tried to soothe but even you felt like your efforts were worthless. “That doesn’t change the fact that I almost lost you— and I wasn’t even aware!” Jay looked like a maniac, his hands in his hair and his eyes bloodshot from frustration.
There was a moment where you both just stared into each other’s eyes, no words exchanged. Your eyes were full of regrets for having kept that from him and his were filled with the same emotion for not having taken care of you the way he should’ve.
“Don’t give up now, not for me.” You shook your head, slowly walking closer to him until you touched his forearm with your fingers, letting him know you were there. Breathing.
“You’re worth it.” Jay breathed out the same words he’d been repeating you, looking down at you, studying out features. His glance was so soft it almost hurt “Not this.” You shook your head.
Jay pulled you into a hug, so tight and full of emotions “Just three more years and we’ll be together.” He murmured “Just a little bit longer and we'll be able to share an apartment together. Just you and me."
You smiled on his chest, hugging him back “And we’ll get married.”
His entire face lit up with glee whenever you mentioned the idea of marriage, his finger swirled around the ring on your finger. “And we'll get married," He whispered softly, his eyes still focused on yours. "We'll finally be married and our families will finally stop asking us about our wedding plans," He laughed, the previous tension already forgotten
“Don’t even get started.” You laughed as well
"Yeah, for me it's my mom constantly bothering me with 'so when is it going to happen?'" He paused for a moment and cocked his head to the side playfully. "And for you? Is it your dad that's constantly bringing up the topic?"
You smiled and nodded “He’s afraid he’s going to die before he can walk me on the aisle.”
“That’s just a better incentive to wife you up.” Jay held your arms in his hands, gently rubbing them. You looked up at him and couldn’t help but cup his face, bringing your lips to him once more.
Jay’s eyes lit up the moment you kissed him. He let out a soft murmur, his lips responding to your kiss softly.
“I missed you,” You murmured between kisses “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” Jay responded, his lips travelling to the back of your head, tilting it to deepen the kiss “Only three years and you’ll be mine forever.”
“I think I’ve always been yours.”
⪩⪨
Another year had passed and New Year’s Eve came. A bummer that Jay could not come back to you those holidays because he had found a job to maintain his studies and was simultaneously studying for an extra course. After the small fight you had at the café (that shut down not long after) you two grew closer, if it was even possible.
Despite the long distance, you felt so connected to him. You dialled his number, feeling as you waited for him to answer.
Your phone beeped a bit before hearing his familiar tone on the other end. "Hey babe," His voice was as bright as ever “Did you miss me?"
“Hi,” You breathed out, sniffling due to the cold temperatures “I don’t miss you at all.” You teased
Jay’s brows furrowed slightly as he heard you sniffle. "Hey, are you okay? Are you sick?" He asked instantly with concern, ignoring your playful joke and wanting to make sure you were alright.
"I'm outside!" You explained happily, looking around at all the people inside the main square "Fireworks are nicer if you see them from here."
He let out a sigh of relief when he heard that. “Good. you gave me a bit of a scare there, babe. Are you enjoying yourself?” As expected, the soon-to-be doctor always worried for nothing.
“No, there are so many couples here," You joked "My boyfriend is so evil he didn’t even come to me."
Jay chuckled softly "Oh yeah? Just wait until I'm there. I'll make all those couples in the whole square jealous." He groaned, "Ugh, I can't believe I'm missing being with my girlfriend when we should be spending the new year together."
"I understand," Yoh reassured, looking up at the huge clock ticking close to the new year, a feeling of both nostalgia and excitement washing through you. "What are you doing now? Don’t tell me you’re studying".
“Well... you guessed it," He admitted softly, “...Studying. I have a final exam for my extra course coming up soon."
“No, Jay.” You said sadly “Not now.” His brows furrowed at your sudden change of tone and he asked “What’s wrong?”
You sighed “Can you drop your pen and walk to the window?”
Jay was caught off guard by the unexpected request. Though he had no reason to resist you, he set his pen and his open study books aside and stood up. He walked to his window.
"Three more minutes before the new year," You murmured "Look at the fireworks with me, the sky is only one so it makes me feel closer to you."
His eyes immediately turned to the outside, looking at the fireworks and the sky that was lit up by so many bright colors. It was breathtaking, and his eyes took it all in as he stood in the window, watching the sky as the time slowly ticked towards the new year.
He could almost imagine you right next to him, both of you watching the beautiful display together. "Yes," He whispered, “I can almost feel you right next to me."
“One more minute!” You squealed happily, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend.
Everyone started laughing and screaming, clapping their hands as the clock struck midnight, the sky lit up with more fireworks “Happy New Year, baby.” You told Jay and he said back the same words.
“Just one year and half until our big plan.” You stated, looking down at your ring.
“Just one year and half…” He repeated, a small smile displayed on his face
“We’ll be alright… Won’t we?” You asked, your voice quiet, barely audible with all the external noise. But Jay still heard you, he always did.
The question you asked was so simple, but it carried a lot of weight to it. "Yeah. We'll be okay, babe." His soft voice assured you of that. "Of course we will. We have always managed to find ways to deal with distance... we'll be fine."
You looked around and saw couples kissing and holding hands, spending that special time together. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you stepped away from the square and back on the way to your apartment "Can you stay on the phone a little longer? Until I get home..."
“Of course baby,” Jay reassured, playing with the necklace he always wore. “I’ll stay on the phone as long as you need me.”
You started walking, your nose red and cheeks hurting from the cold weather “It’s so cold nowadays.” You commented.
"Hey... you're okay, right? Are you sure you'll be alright making your way home alone? Are you wearing enough layers?” Jay asked softly, his tone of concern obvious.
You chuckled at his words “Don’t act like my mother.”
He laughed along with you. "Sorry... I just— worry too much about you sometimes. you know?”
You nodded though he could not see you. “I know, but I'm grand here.” You hummed “I’m an independent woman.”
“That may be true,” Jay stated, his whole face shining from the light of the fireworks “But your boyfriend here is worried about your health, especially in this cold weather.”
"I’m about to reach home and then i'll take a warm shower and go to sleep," You murmured, placing your free hand in your pocket "You don't study until late night, ok?"
"Well..." His voice was playful "No promises, a man's got to get good grades.” But your tone wasn’t “Please Jay… At least not today.”
“Okay, alright.” He knew you were just worried for him the same way he was for you “I’ll stop studying for tonight.”
“Promise?” You asked, “Promise.” He answered.
“Then, after you take a shower, can you stay on the phone for a while?” Jay’s voice was laced with vulnerability, the long distance taking a ton on him as well.
Your voice softened at his words “Of course baby,” You whispered “I’ll stay with you on the phone.”
“Hey, Y/N.” Jay murmured “Yes?” You said, fiddling with the keys.
“I love you.” You stopped moving for a moment, “I love you more.”
⪩⪨
Years passed by and vows were exchanged, Jay and you now happily lived together.
You still remembered that day when you got him at the train station, feeling all giddy to finally have the life you’ve always dreamt of with the only person you’ve ever loved.
You thought all your vicissitudes were over, that your many many years of patience had finally paid off— but no, because Jay’s traineeship was taking your place yet again.
Despite the fact that your apartment that once looked lifeless was now hosting a couple, it seemed as if it had lost its previous colours with your gloomy demeanour.
Jay spent all his day at the hospital, learning new things and trying to build a good relationship with his superiors.
And it’s not like you weren’t happy for him— No, you were overjoyed… but what about you?
Since you two became a couple, it felt as if you had spent all your life waiting for him, waiting for the life you two had promised to build together, but the only effort came from you. And now that you were married, the crack in your heart started to become a chasm.
Everything went downhill when, one day, you woke up yet again to an empty bed, the wrinkled sheets the only proof they Jay had spent the night there. He came back late and got out in the early morning— an endless circle that maybe he was used to when he was still a student.
But now Jay was your husband and you seeked all the things any wife wished for. Just some quality time would have been enough.
You got up from the bed and held your breath when you heard a noise coming from the living room. Quietly, you tiptoed to the bedroom door, peeking from the glimmer of the half-closed door.
A rather messed up Jay stomped around the house, in search of something. You got out of the door and walked inside the living room “Jay?” You asked
Without even greeting you, he just said “Where’s my spare gown?”
You blinked faintly, your mind still a little empty from sleeping “I don’t know.” Jay let out a deep groan “I told you to wash it the other day.”
“I still need to hang it with the laundry.” You replied, now remembering “You know I need it to work, Y/N.” His voice was low
“The other one?” You asked “Dirty,” He just mumbled, fumbling with some shirts “Hey! I had folded them neatly.”
“Fold them again.” Jay just answered “I need my gown, we have an important meeting today with the head doctors.”
“It’s dirty,” You stated “Just ask one of your colleagues to lend you one.”
“There’s my name on the gown.” He stopped and dropped the clothes on the floor. “I can’t talk to them while wearing someone else’s name.”
“Just cover it.” Jay rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, “I’m trying to help you.” You said, noticing his distressed behaviour.
“Well, you’re not.” He tsked, making you open your mouth in disbelief. Jay looked at you, raising a brow “What?”
“What?” You asked back with a frown “You just disrespect me and the work I do in our house and you ask ‘What’?” Your voice was dangerously low.
He gulped, glancing down at the discarded ironed clothes on the floor. He picked them up and placed them on the chair once again “Here.”
You let out a sigh and looked away. “Just take your dirty gown and go to your meeting.” You said harshly.
Jay ran a hand through his hair, frustrated “Listen Y/N— I didn’t mean to be so rude.” You still refused to meet his gaze.
“Please, love. Don’t get mad now.” He walked a step closer to you but you just backed away, making him frown “What’s wrong?”
“Everything.” You muttered, your eyes full of hurt now locking with his dark ones. His breath hitched as he took in your pained expression.
“W-Why?” He asked, genuinely confused, “If it’s because of this— I’m sorry, I’m just so stressed.”
“And I am tired.” You stated “I am tired of waking up to an empty bed and going to bed the same way, I am tired of spending all my holidays alone because of your work.”
You let out all the build frustration you had felt through the years “I am tired of waiting for you, Jay, when will all this end?”
Jay raised his hands to caress your arms but you stepped back again, not needing to break down now, but needing to set this straight.
“I know, I’ve been so busy lately.” You scoffed, “You’ve always been busy.”
“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life, Jay.” Your tone was shaky, “I’ve always supported you, since we were kids and even more after we became a couple. But I feel like I missed the most beautiful years of my life because of you.”
His breath sagged “Don’t say that..”
“But it’s the truth.” You stated “I said more ‘I miss you’s than ‘I love you’s in this relationship.”
“I—“ Jay’s bottom lip wobbled. “I’m sorry..”
You sighed, shaking your head. You then glanced up to the clock “It’s already eight, you’ll be late to your meeting.”
You turned around and were about to walk into the bathroom when Jay’s big and strong hands wrapped around your waist “I love you, Y/N.” He said, almost desperately.
You tried your best not to let your tears fall “I know,” You whispered “But maybe you love your job more.” You shrugged away from his embrace and locked yourself in the bathroom.
Jay tried to open the door but you had already turned the key, he helplessly knocked on it “Y/N, please, let’s talk this out.”
As much as you wanted it, your whole body and mind was drained from the constant feeling of sorrow you said in a quiet voice “Just go away, Jay.”
Yeah, he wasn’t going to do that. “Please, come out, let’s talk.” He pleaded
But you just dismissed him once again “I don’t know the things I’d say if we talked now.”
Jay knew he had messed up, really bad this time, and he wanted to make it right. To make it up.
How could he be so obvious to your pain? How could he have not noticed?
You had all the right to be mad at him, in fact, he deserved the slaps you should’ve given him. He deserved your anger, your resentment.
He wasn’t in his right mind that morning— Truth is, he hadn’t been for quite some time.
Traineeship was so exhausting, coming from a whole adulthood of self sacrifice and sabotage, he thought he was the only one suffering. Turned out you were as affected by his actions as him, if not even more.
Jay was so lost in thought he hadn’t even realised he had been typing the same word countless times in the report of the previous meeting. As much as he tried not to think about it, his mind kept drifting back to you.
One of his colleagues noticed his gloomy demeanour and sat on the chair in front of Jay’s desk, tapping his fingers on it “Hey there.” He waved a hand in front of his face.
“Not now, Jake.” Jay groaned, resting his face on his hand, his cheek slightly crushed against his palm “I’m not in the mood.”
“Damn man,” The doctor with the heavy australian accent commented “Who pissed in your cornflakes?”
Jay took a deep sigh, shaking his head “No one, I just am an emeritus douchebag.” Jake raised a playful brow, “Tell me something I don’t know?”
But the death glare he received from the other party made him nod in acknowledgment “Troubles in heaven?”
Jay frowned “How’d you know?” And Jake just smirked in response “You’re so obvious.”
He then leaned his elbows on the desk “Tell me everything.”
Jay tsked “Why should I?” And Jake clicked his tongue back “Dude, believe me, you’ll feel better after you confess your sins.”
“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” The Australian eyed him up and down “Is it not?”
Jay sighed heavily, running a hand on his face “I messed up really bad.”
He nodded, letting Jay know he was listening “Y/N… She’s the best thing that ever happened in my life,” He started “She is my first friend, my first love, my first kiss and time… It has always been her.” He smiled unconsciously.
“But I failed her, I think, I haven’t realised she’s been suffering in silence all these years.” Jay shook his head at himself.
“Does she regret your marriage?” Jay’s eyes widened at such a statement “God, I hope not.” But then he bit his bottom lip “I wouldn’t blame her if she did, though.”
Jake sighed “Listen man, I met Y/N only once or twice, but I see the way she looks at you.”
“How?” Jay asked “As if you were the only one in the whole world, and I mean it.”
“But maybe she doesn’t anymore,” Jay sighed softly “Maybe I lost her for real this time.”
Jake raised a brow, “You love her?” Jay looked at his colleague as if he had just offended him “I’ve always loved her and I always will.”
“Damn right!” Jake smirked, “Now, go tell her.” He shook his head, “I’m on duty.”
Jake sighed and turned the computer screen toward him, he opened a few types and typed on the keyboard and he turned towards him as well and then smiled victoriously “Not anymore.”
Jay glanced at the screen just to see his name had been replaced with Sim Jaeyun on the file with all the rounds “Why?”
Jake got up from the chair and patted his mate’s shoulder “Go get your wife back before it’s really too late.”
⪩⪨
“I’m coming home right now, I’m coming back to you and I’ll make sure you actually stay, both physically and mentally. I’m so sorry for everything baby, and I know this voice mail will probably find you in a desperate state and it breaks me to know I am the cause.” Sigh “I just hope you can forgive me, because I love you, definitely more than my job.”
You replayed Jay’s voice mail countless times, his voice breaking, clearly on the verge of tears. You sat down on the sofa, waiting anxiously for the front door to open, and when it did, you raised to your feet.
Jay rushed inside, almost stumbling as he took off his shoes and gown, discarding both of them on the floor. You both stared at each other, just taking in your presence “Hi.” You breathed out.
Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Jay’s arms wrapped around your body, your head pressed against his chest “Forgive me, love.” He whispered in your ear.
You pulled away, just enough to look inside his eyes “It’s okay—“ “It’s not.” He cut you out, “Don’t lie baby, not anymore.”
Jay’s deep, brown eyes were so sincere you felt your heart skip a few beats “I’ve been foolish, I didn’t realise your discontent for nine whole years. But I do now, I see all you sacrificed just to be with me. I see you.”
You smiled gently, looking up at him. He didn’t fail to notice the swelling and redness in your eyes “I see you too.” You whispered, placing one hand on his cheek.
“You saw me even before I saw myself.” Jay’s tone was gentle, he leaned on your palm “You never miss a single big milestone of mine.” He repeated the same words he said back during graduation day, the day he promised your hand. “I feel like I crashed your dreams, ruined your life.”
“No,” Your brows knitted “No, Jay, don’t ever say that again.” Sincerity filled your eyes “You are my dream.”
A tear fell down Jay’s eyes, a quiet sniffle escaping him. You brought his head down on your shoulders and gently patted his back “Why are you crying?”
“I thought I lost you again, because of my stupidity.” He shook his head, clinging onto your waist as if you were a lifeline.
You took his hand in yours and brought it on your chest “Do you feel it?” You asked. Jay raised his head and stared at you with teary eyes. He concentrated on the palm on your chest and felt your heart beating fast.
“That’s the effect you have on me.” Jay looked like a lost child at your words “Still?”
“Then, still, always.” You nodded your head, your lips curling into a soft smile “What happened this morning, to both of us, it was the anger speaking.”
Jay gently held your hand and brought it to his lips, his knuckles brushing on your ring finger. “I want to focus on you more, to make up for all those years we’ve lost because of my job.”
“Will you let me?” He asked, his head tilting to the side “Yes.” You breathed out
“I’ll take care of you,” He brought you closer by your hand, your chest flush against each other “I’ll spoil you rotten.” He brushed your hair away, his breath hitting your skin, making you shiver “My dear wife.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, murmuring on his lips “I want to have a baby, Jay.” His brows shot up in surprise “You do?”
“Yes,” You caressed the back of his neck. “I want to be the mother of your children.”
“Damn love,” Jay let out a shaky breath. “You can’t say things like that without bearing the consequences.”
You bit your bottom lip, bringing him down to you “I’m ready to bear them.”
Jay took you in his arms in a swift movement, carrying you over his shoulder and spanking your ass “To the bedroom.”
⪩⪨
“Hey, love.” Jay sat down beside you by the porch of the holiday lake house, placing a mug of iced tea on the table.
“Thank you.” You thanked, taking it in your hand with a groan “I really miss coffee.”
“I know,” He smiled gently, caressing the swelling of your belly “But caffeine isn’t good for the baby, is it?”
“Dad! Can I sail the boat?” Your eldest daughter asked, pointing at the boat near the shore of the lake “Fine, but be careful!” Jay shouted so she could hear and you both watched as she sailed the little box you used to sail as well during high school summer break.
You smiled, recalling the old memory, and Jay did the same, watching your face as if you were the best view of all.
“Do I have something on my face?” You asked, feeling a little self-conscious “Beauty.” He winked at you and you nudged his shoulder playfully.
His eyes fell down on your belly once again, a warm expression displayed on his face “Thank you so much, Y/N.”
You frowned at his sudden thankfulness “For what?”
“For everything,” His voice was full of sincerity “For this baby, for our other daughter, for being by my side.”
“And thank you for loving me.” Jay added, once again kissing your ring finger, this time his lips lingering a little longer on your knuckles.
“Oh, Jay.” You let out a shaky breath “That’s very effortless.”
Your eyes then fell down on the necklace, the same one you gifted him for his fifteenth birthday. Your fingers unconsciously reached for it as you began playing with it “You still wear it?”
“I’ll take it in the grave with me.”
[⪩⪨] END.
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letorip · 7 months
Text
somethin’ stupid
“and then i go and spoil it all, by saying somethin’ stupid like ‘i love you’”
===+++===
pairing: wednesday addams x reader
summary: even knowing that your relationship with wednesday is one huge grey area, you can't help the words that come tumbling from your lips one night while on an expedition together.
warnings: blood, violent attack scene, angsty pining, mentions of sex, fear of the dark
word count: 4.2k
A/N: first post, kinda nervous. honestly pumped to start posting on here after being somewhat new to writing. will try my best not to suck.
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===+++===
It’s only after you meet Wednesday Addams for the first time that you understand why storms are named after people.
In the near five months total she had been in your life, she had quickly climbed to the top priority, and you found yourself trapped in her rain bands, tugged under her dark, swelling tide and drawn to less direct ways.
Now and likely until the very end of time, you followed her through the forest, peeking around each passing tree and shining your flashlight into the dark. It was a knight's sword for you, and you held it like a weapon so as to ward off evil spirits or howling beasts. Only, half of the time it ended up being a squirrel.
It seemed antithetical, to walk into the pitch black forest that had killed several hikers and injured Eugene, -or more the big ass creature inside it had, but Wednesday had never cared much for what made sense, and you knew better than to argue with her.
The rain continued to fall around the both of you, splattering against the hood of your rain coat and rolling down your sputtering lips, tracing your nose on the way down. If Wednesday was at all affected by the rain, she hadn't let it show yet. Not that she let much show, that was.
You shivered from a sudden gust of cold, wet wind rushing over your knuckles from where they white-gripped the rubber wrapping of your flashlight. "Are we almost there yet?" You asked, squinting into the trees. "I have to get up early tomorrow."
There was no possible way Wednesday could know where she was going in the sheer amount of darkness fended off by a flimsy Acebeam, but she pushed through like she did. Maybe orienteering was just part of the outré magic she always carried with her, or at least that's what you figured it probably was. In another life she had been a cheerful girl scout, though you knew better than to suggest that aloud.
The same could not be said for you, who was an utter idiot about directions and probably would have driven off a cliff by now without the use of a GPS. Wednesday had once said you wouldn't be able to find your way out of a cardboard box, and offensively, she was probably right.
It didn't make sense why she chose you of all people to bring along, then. You had no special strength or sight, and virtually no knowledge on how to investigate a murder, especially the serial kind. The only ability you had allowed you to read thoughts and minds, though you never dared read Wednesday's, even when you itched to know what she was thinking.
Despite feeling more like an achor dragging her boat down, almost every evening, at around the same time after dark, she showed up on your doorstep to tug you off to some dangerous place.
Maybe you were secretly hoping for a reward of some sort. She often indulged you as such, lips like a heroin shot directly to your veins, powering you through the day as you watched the clock tick away into night anticipating the next rush. Enid was right. You were whipped for her.
"Your protesting doesn't make the journey any shorter," she replied, turning with the dark look that always lurked in the back of her eyes.
You knew the movements well: when she glared, her eyes lowered slightly and her mouth tensed. One could not help but watch in awe, storing the memory for later. Or, at least those ‘whipped’ for her couldn’t. She spun back around to face forward, your flashlight pointing over her shoulder into the brooding dark.
The rain only seemed to come down harder from there, punishing you both for slogging through the mushy leaves when sane people would be indoors. But Wednesday would not settle until she found Arcadia.
You cleared your throat, uneasy with the ensuing silence.
"Where are we even going, Wednesday? We've been walking forever," you said, looking down at the pale grey rocks as you stepped over them. You were grateful for being clever enough to remember hiking boots.
"We're finding evidence," she replied. "I was informed of a suspicious cave out in the forest, and-" Wednesday's words came rushing to a halt as her foot clipped the rock in front of her. She stumbled a bit, and you threw out an arm to her back, there if she needed something to steady herself on.
It was uncoordinated and it was clunky at best, and Wednesday was far from appreciative. She jolted back from your touch as if you had stung her, glaring as harsh as ever. "Sorry," you said. "I didn't want you to fall." The tips of your ears had begun to burn again, upon realising you were made the fool for another time in a row.
"You should have," said Wednesday, walking ahead. "It simulates dropping dead." Of course, on you, such a statement did not have the desired effect. Whereas most would have replied in shock or disgust, you laughed. Out loud, right at her. The gall. She whipped back to you, perplexed and annoyed by the noise. "Have something to share?"
You grinned. "You can act cool all you want, but if you had actually landed in the mud, you would have been pissed." Her expression went from glare to glower impressively quickly, though you took great glee in the fact she didn't try to dismiss it.
Anyone who had just met her would have been terrified, but you knew that look meant she hated just how much you were right. Wednesday's moody eyes lowered to your jacket, as if she was looking for an insult to sling in response.
"Why are you yellow?"
You blinked, then shrugged. "Because for someone so intelligent I'm the only one who remembered a raincoat."
"The beast will eat you wether you're rained on or not," she replied reasonably.
You blanched at this. It was apparent the possibility had never crossed your mind. "It eats people????"
Suddenly the darkness of the woods only seemed to worsen and the rain seemed to come down even harder, as if life was laughing at the terror it was causing. You had never been one for haunted houses, and you decided in that instant that this was far worse than any haunted house you had ever been to.
Wednesday shrugged, and you were far from put at ease by that. She glanced at you up through mischievous lashes, entirely knowing what she was doing and enjoying every sadistic moment of it.
"I suppose we may find out tonight. I should offer up you, the yellow highlighter, first. You have longer bones than I do, and I'm sure it would appreciate a snack, after-"
"Ha. Ha."
As surprising as was Wednesday's capacity to joke, you knew that's all it was. Such falsehoods could not be exposed to the public, and she would rather die than admit she cared for anyone. That was her secret. You knew to keep it well.
It had been weird to see Wednesday attempt comedy at first. Often times you still thought she may be dead serious. But on these nightly expeditions it seemed she could joke freely. Sometimes she kissed you freely. You just had to know she didn't do it for you. She told you constantly, just to be sure.
From in front, Wednesday trembled from a sudden angry breeze and you watched her, sighing and tugging off your raincoat. You tossed it over her shoulders wordlessly; Wednesday didn't acknowledge it either. She put one arm in, then another, but didn't pull the hood up, and you rolled your eyes. "Pull the hood up, Wednesday. Don't be stubborn."
"I'm fine," she shot back, tone sharp and piercing to any sort of armour you could have put up. But even that didn't make you buy it.
"Your hair is like, stuck to your forehead, Wednesday. Just pull up the hood part."
"I don't even want to be in this dreadful thing, why would I want more of it on me. It's yellow."
"It's keeping you warm."
"I'm allergic to colours."
"Well then I guess it's great you brought a black one- oh, wait! That's right! You didn't."
She blinked at you unappreciatively, but your unimpressed expression made her give in, and she begrudgingly did as she was told. With a hood now over her, shrouding her soft hair from the harsh rain, you felt a bit better about her being out in the cold. After a moment she grumbled, messing with the sleeves. "Why are your arms so freakishly long?"
You didn't answer, biting back a response that included the word 'short.' It would have been entirely unproductive and probably earned a rock thrown at your head. Instead, you focused on the small row of houses you could see on a road in the far distance.
Their windows were small, warm boxes in the dryness, as opposed to the pouring, angry storm only a heathen of some sort would be caught in. It looked the same as it had the week before when you had passed the same area with Wednesday, and you recognised the same lamp that sat in the same spot of the same window on the second floor. It hadn't moved even an inch and neither had the flowers in the pot sitting next to it.
You hummed, "I love streets like those. It looks so warm and comfortable. I could be out here forever and it would still be the same warm place."
"Poetic," Wednesday dryly replied. Poetry had never seemed to move her much, beyond the grim ones from Poe about death and despair. She had tried to teach you about it once, during an impromptu "study session," which was what Wednesday usually called hunting you down after class and sticking your head between her legs.
It was the very first time she had let you stick around after, and the more and more often she let it happen, the more you felt yourself allowing for false hopes. Of course, accusing her of growing fond was a way to end up in an early grave and you knew better.
It had been a whisper, really, what she said with your head resting on her stomach, arms against the skin of her thighs. You were both sweating, terribly so, and then came, "years of love have been forgotten, in the hatred of a minute." It was only a whisper, and you weren't even sure Wednesday had spoken it into existence. But you looked up, and she was staring down at you, eyes unreadable. Her mouth was tensed into a grimace; a symbol for words unsaid.
"What's that?" You asked, leaning your head back.
She had shook her head. "It's Poe. He founded the school."
"I know who Edgar Allan Poe is, Wednesday. I meant what you were saying."
She looked away to the window, like eye contact then would have doomed her. "I'm not sure." It was a lie, and you knew it, but you couldn’t scan Wednesday’s thoughts and it was the first time she had let you stay propped up against her. You knew better than to ruin that.
"Why do you like that kind of poetry, anyhow? It's awfully depressing."
"It's a reminder," she replied, eyes still away and tone flat. "You and I will be in the ground someday, or maybe I will be in the family crypt. 'As you are now, so once, was I.' And other such ruminations. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Her gaze sliced back to you, as if she were gaging your reaction. "Either way, we're doomed."
You hadn't known what she meant by that, and you still didn't know, walking through the forest. She spoke in riddles, and it was impossible to know if she wanted you to decipher them or leave them as they were. Her vagueness with emotions was her armour, maybe.
Wednesday was usually cold and efficient and exact, in a way you could appreciate. You were far warmer, and though you seemed to constantly trip over yourself, patiently waiting for any sort of warmth to be returned, she stayed with the same chill that kept you close enough to bring comfort to her fingers, but never close enough to make her melt.
"When we get there, I want you to stay outside and keep watch. Don't come inside with me, I want to look around alone. If you hear anything or any noise or thoughts over the rain, give me the signal I trained you on," said Wednesday, looking through the bowers and thread veins of roots so as not to trip again.
"You're not my boss, Wednesday, and I'm not your henchman," you said, the words spilling out in annoyance. You hated when she went into work mode. She looked over at you, eyes giving an intense challenge.
"What am I then?"
You rolled your eyes at this. "Like my hobby, at best." It wasn't true, and both of you knew it.
"Do you kiss and sleep with all your 'hobbies,' then?" Wednesday's eyes studied you.
"Maybe," you shrugged. "I don't really kiss and tell." Actually, you hadn't kissed anybody since she had made out with you two days prior, and you hadn't kissed somebody other than her since she had first kissed you two months ago.
You knew, though, that Wednesday had done similar peregrinations with the normie boy, Tyler, from town who worked at the Weathervane. Sometimes you wondered if she put her lips on his, too. Other times, you couldn't help wondering if either of you really mattered to her.
She had said no when you asked her that once before, but slow danced and made out with you immediately after answering, at the Rave'N, so your confusion was understandable. It was like she both hungered for you and hated you for it at the same time, and you knew getting thrown around like that wasn’t what you wanted. But if it gave you her, even for a brief moment, you were all too eager.
From behind the both of you, you heard a branch snap, spinning around as the rain poured. There was nothing visibly there; your stupid flashlight didn't reach out that far and no moving through the brush could be heard. "Did you hear that?" you said to Wednesday, freezing completely. She nodded, but did not seem phased even slightly, turning to watch your terror with an eyebrow raised.
“Likely an animal," said Wednesday.
You were still frozen to the spot, staring into the dark as fear screamed at you to run away. “Are you okay?” she asked, puzzled.
You shook your head, sticking your hand out towards her. “No.” It was a question that needn't be asked. Wednesday examined your fingers closely, like she was contemplating if it was a bad idea, but then grabbed your palm and held it tightly in hers, locking the digits in with her own and squeezing it gently. It was an immediate comfort and you unfroze, Wednesday pulling you into the dark.
===+++===
"Your obnoxious coat is warm...thank you." She seemed to spit the last part out with a bit of reluctance, but you appreciated it nevertheless. For around the last half mile, you had been getting rained on instead. Droplets dripped from your hair, rolling down your cheeks and over your lips before dribbling from your chin.
"You can keep it for a while. Until you get your own, I mean," you said, absentmindedly playing with the flashlight. You would rather die than admit you were nervous aloud. Luckily, it didn't seem you needed to.
She stopped short at your words, grabbing your collar roughly with her hand and balling it between her fingers. It was harsh and it was passionate, like Wednesday always seemed to be in flares. Her mouth crashed into yours, teeth clinking together, toes poking into the mushy ground so she could even reach your face.
Unfortunately, it was over as soon as it began, and she pulled away quickly, walking away and leaving you behind, panting awkwardly as your mind began to spin. She was all too much, everything about her. You couldn’t stop yourself. "I love you,” you blurted out.
From the way she whipped back to you, it hadn’t been nearly quiet enough. Silence seemed to echo through the clearing, even in the raging storm around that pounded into trees and pooled in mushy puddles. She stared at you, and all you could do was stare back. Wednesday stomped back over, cheeks red and dark eyes shining with an unusual capriciousness. “What?”
You shook your head. “Nothing. Talking to myself.”
But she didn’t believe you. In previous attempts by you to draw out any indication of her affections, she could blatantly ignore it or change the subject without answering. Now, she was frustrated by how you always wore your heart on your sleeve. And this time, how your words demanded she do the same.
“What did you say,” she demanded. “Tell me right now, or I’ll-“
“I said I love you, Wends,” you cut her off before she could make a threat. God, she stared. She stared and stared and stared at you with her eyes in the dark, looking like she would be the one to read your mind and not the other way around. The humidity of the rain was suffocating you, but the powerful wind filled your lungs with air again, in a vicious, heaving cycle.
She took a small step forward, tilting her head up at you like she was inspecting you up close. “You don’t mean what you say.”
"I really wish I didn't, but I absolutely do." Your tone burned with a relieving candor, and Wednesday's eyebrows furrowed, before she backed away again. Your flashlight turned towards the ground, lowering your face into shadow.
"I told you, I don't want anything more from you," she said. "You're spoiling what we already have." She seemed more agitated than anything, but you stood your ground.
"But I feel like there's more here, Wednesday. I know I'm not crazy, you can feel it too. So I don't know why you're being all tough, when I just want to take care of you. That's all I've ever wanted."
"Learn to want for something else then," she argued back. "We can't work, we won't, I-"
"Why?"
"I told you why," she replied, crossing her arms. "Years of love-"
"No no, none of that bullshit you know you want to confuse me with. Just lay it out, plain and simple."
She bit her mouth shut, then narrowed her eyes at you before giving a huff. "Have you been reading my thoughts?"
"What?" Your forehead creased into lines, staring at her intently. "You know I don't."
"I don't know if you're aware, but I see you, in my visions sometimes. I actually think about the same one often, when I'm with you."
"What am I doing, then?" You asked, feeling a sickness come to your stomach. You didn’t know what future event you would be up to, but you could guarantee Wednesday you would stop yourself from hurting her.
“You’re being killed. By the beast.”
“…Oh.”
“You’re running far away, being chased. I see you get tackled or hit, and you fall into the dirt. Then I see your face being slashed over and over again by a creature, and you appear to bleed out on the floor of a forest.”
“Wednesday, that won’t come true.” You tried to assure her, but a small hand came forward, covering your mouth, shushing you. The gentle palm pressed against your soaked lips, fingertips ghosting the lines of your cheeks.
“I would hate you for it, dying. What I hate even more is that your closeness to me is likely what causes this. I don’t love you, (Y/n). I can’t. Stop trying to make me. It’s only pitiful and painful for the both of us.”
You reached up for her hand, pulling it away. “But how do you know it’s definitely you that ruins it? What if it’s something else, or what if it’s you saying no?”
“Because as painful as it is, I’m certain I break your heart if I indulge you.”
“Wednesday,” your voice shook a bit. “You’re breaking my heart right now.”
“This,” she said, “This is why I cannot give you more than I already have. I’m not my parents, (Y/n). Can’t you just be happy with our current relationship? You always try to complicate things. Like a stupid little puppy.”
You took a step back like a wounded animal. “What? You’re being mean.”
“Maybe if I am it'll get through to you. We won’t work, and if we don’t try to make it work, I won’t end up breaking your heart, and you won’t run away.” Her speaking volume was getting louder now.
“That’s a stupid plan!” You said raising your voice.
“And you’re a fool!” She said back. “I’m trying to protect you and take what I can get at the same time."
"You're hurting me."
"You're hurting yourself. I keep pushing you away. Stop coming back."
You frowned, feeling your face grow hot. "I come back because I care, and I know you care too."
"Caring for you gets me nowhere. You're doomed, (Y/n). I'm trying to protect you, so do us both a favour and get as far away from me as possible. Don't let me pull you back."
"Wednesday, I-"
"Go, you idiot." You swallowed her words. She was still wearing your yellow raincoat, looking at you with the most steely expression you had ever seen. You stepped forward in silence, only the mushing of the leaves filling the space between you. You unwrapped the armband of the flashlight from around your wrist and extended it out to her.
"Here. For the cave." She blinked at you, then she took it. Without another word, you did as you were told, stepping off into the dark and pulling against the magnetic field. With your ability to break past her facades turned off, you couldn't see the deep regret that wormed its way into her stare, watching your back retreat into the tree line.
===+++===
It only took around five minutes for you to regret not having the flashlight. The storm had turned to complete and utter chaos, and you could hear thunder and lightning booming and cracking against the night sky. Everything was so much darker than before, and it seemed to grow up and out like a giant ladder, turning to shadow and fog a few feet in front of you.
Part of you was still mad at Wednesday. Knowing she was scared for you didn't make it any of an easier pill to swallow. Neither did knowing you would likely die soon.
The looming question still sat unanswered, weighing down the wrinkles of your brain and cozying up at the mantle of your thoughts. Would it be weeks? Months? If she never ended up catching it (though that was very unlikely) how many years would you have left?
From behind you, you heard a branch snap again. You spun, looking around. An animal maybe. Then, you heard footsteps. They were big, though not an animal. Maybe it was Wednesday. She wore thick shoes often, with heavy soles.
It was only with the sudden realisation that there was no flashlight with the figure coming towards you, that your eyes began to widen and a chill shot up your spine like a spooked animal. It only took the dropping of your telepathic cancelling to fully realise what was about to happen.
KILL. KILL. KILL.
The monster's thinking was thunderous and loud, and it reverberated within your skull as you turned to run. You stomped your foot into the swampy ground, running the fastest you felt you ever had. KILL. The forest seemed to blur, rushing past you as you fled through the trees and smacking at branches that sagged in your way.
KILL. You heard the footsteps now, coming up quickly. They sounded huge, and with every bound you could hear greenery get smushed behind you as the beast moved through it. KILL. You had no idea how close it was behind you, but there was no time to look either. In one rush, you found yourself back in a stoney quarry, and in the far distance illuminated a KILL. streetlight standing over a mountain road.
You ran towards it, face scratched by a branch in the process as you forgot to swipe it away. The wood KILL. connected with a stabbing pain, piercing your lip as you ran, but you didn't so much as wince. "HELP!" You yelled KILL. out, trying to catch any attention as you ran for the pavement, and you were almost there. KILL.
You were too slow. A set of long, pointy claws latched onto your back, sinking into the skin and ripping you down with a yelp, throwing you to the ground. Your back slid into the tree with a sickening crack, and pain seemed to freeze your body. KILL.
Standing over you was the muscular, horrifyingly disfigured body of a towering creature, its eyes shining with violent zeal. It lowered with a clicking growl, eyeing your heaving, bleeding body and sneering. KILL. KILL. KILL.
Your eyebrows furrowed, blood spilling from your lips. In a single instant, you knew who it was, digging past the monstrous yells to the real thoughts of the boy underneath. "Tyler?"
Its claws sunk into your stomach, and everything went dark.
===+++===
a/n: a part two maybe? idk, i'm no rocket scientist. anyways, this is my very first post, so, here we go i guess? excited to start this and grateful for anyone who reads this. i tried to spellcheck but if it isn't perfect please please please let me know, i would fix it immediately.
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nereidprinc3ss · 5 months
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andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)
a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.
note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five.
series masterlist
18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!
Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.
The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 
But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 
He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 
Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 
“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 
Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 
“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”
“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”
It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 
“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”
“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”
“Alright. Got your phone handy?”
It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.
“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”
Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 
Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 
He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 
But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.
So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 
Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 
Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 
Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 
So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 
“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”
He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 
“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”
She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 
“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”
“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 
She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 
But god, does he think about you like that. 
His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 
Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—
He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 
Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 
But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.
“Found it okay?” 
Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 
“Yeah. Thanks again.”
Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 
There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 
It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.
At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 
But. 
That’s all contingent. 
No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 
The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.
In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 
Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 
And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 
The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.
Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 
If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.
And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 
Not again. 
But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.
Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 
Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 
It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 
He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 
The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 
I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 
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bee-wg · 1 month
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Year 3:
Now that I think about it, football has been a constant in my life for five years now. I’m not sure if I enjoy football anymore; it used to be about the fun we have passing the ball, now it’s all about the stats or the perfect form. 
I stood up from the bleachers to hand Brad his towel.
“I’m going to leave the team, Brad,” I said.
“What? Where did this come from?” He said frantically.
“Everyone knows I’m still on the team because you’re the team’s captain now,” I said.
“I don’t want to cause tension between you and Coach. There’s nothing I could do wobbling around the field anyway,” I added.
“Dude, you know I started playing football because of you, right?” Brad said.
“Bradley, relax. I’m not dead. You can come over to my house whenever you want.” I said.
“Theo can make you some lemon pudding cakes if you want to come,” hopefully this will calm him.
“Fine. Just so you know, I’m not happy about this,” he said, sounding like a brat.
“Okay, got it. Have fun at the party,” I chuckled.
“I won’t. I’m going to make the DJ play Lana Del Rey,” he said before entering the locker room.
There might be an oversight of me quitting football.
It’s literally the reason why I quit. I don’t know why it never crossed my mind.
How the fuck am I going to lose weight now?
“Maybe I would’ve thought it if the word, “exercise” was anywhere on my to-do list this past year,” the voice from the back of my head said.
Shut up, rational thought. I was just a little too cocky, that’s all.
My mind spins around the paths I could take to shed the fat.
Back to the gym for the bodybuilders to laugh at me jiggling like a puddle of slime on the treadmill.
No. Hard no.
Stop eating whatever Theo puts in front of my face.
Productive, but I’d rather die than miss out on the joy of the world.
Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.
No? No, actually it might just work.
My thumbs got to work. It took me an hour to choose a profile picture that represents me. I could go for a vacation photo by the beach, or the classic black and white moody gym pic. Except, I don’t have a picture of myself on my phone, so I chose the picture of an orange cat eating a banana.
With my camera set up, in my favourite green tank top. I pressed record.
It was an embarrassing experience editing myself, watching my belly sway every time I made a movement. In the end, I closed my eyes and uploaded the video.
“Oh! First comment already.” I said.
“Look at those milkers spilling out the tanks!”
3. Post my weight loss journey edits on social media, reminiscing on my rock-hard abs like a depressed, fat person.
The following weeks consisted of me eating my feelings. At least half of my classes are online this semester. I can be embarrassed in peace.
The pounds kept creeping up with each spoon of ice cream down my throat. In the blink of an eye, I am dangerously close to 300 pounds.
I finally worked up the courage to ask during a normal family dinner.
“Honey, what happened? You’re not eating as fast as usual. Is Theo not cooking enough?” Mom asked.
“No, Mom, I just…I just hope you guys can ease up with your little cooking competitions.”
“Oh honey, you know Theo and I will stop with the food whenever you ask.” Mom tries to reassure me.
“No! Obviously don’t stop the food. It’s just that I’ve been blowing up like a pig and I don’t know what to do about it.” I said.
“I didn’t know you were sad about it. I just want my family to be happy, you look the happiest when you eat,” Mom said
“It wouldn’t have helped when you guys lost for the past two years,” Mom added.
“Well, Dad likes to eat better, and no one eats like him,” I replied. 
“I’m sure my cooking was the reason we won. David is a gym teacher, he walks off the food easily,” Mom said.
“Theo is a professional though, no offence but no one on the planet cooks like him. I’m sure football was the reason we lost,” I said, trying to talk some sense into her.
Theo stares at us with wide eyes.
“Jacob, I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” Mom said with a blank face.
“You know what? Keep doing your competition, this time again next year we’ll see who’s the winner,” I said.
I am clearly a failure at losing weight. The only thing I’m good at is eating. If I’m going to gain weight anyway, I’m going to go all out and win this shit once and for all. Once this is settled, I can get back to normal. Not wanting to disappoint Theo when we lose again was probably the thing holding me back. I can’t wait to eat all the delicious things Theo is- I can’t wait for this to be over.
“Alright, Jay,” she turned to Theo and said.
“Theo, my boy. I’m looking forward to seeing the results next year,” Mom said with a determined smile.
Everyone knows not to mess with Mom when she has that look. Even then, I feel like we could still win. Theo’s food is hypnotic already when I am restrained; imagine what it will do to me when I’m going all out.
“What’s going on again?” Dad asked with cheeks full of pasta.
“Don’t worry baby, you just need to eat a little more next year,” Mom answered.
“Okay, as long as I get my lasagnas,” Dad said.
Later at night, struggling to sleep, I contemplated on the bad decisions I’ve made. This one might take the crown to be the stupidest thing I’ve done. Yet, I don’t regret it.
“You didn’t have to stand up for me,” Theo said.
“It’s the least I can do when you wake up early to prep for my food, or go off on the weekends for groceries when you could’ve been doing anything else,” I explained.
“Thank you so much, Jay. You don’t know how much this means to me. My family wanted me to do anything other than cooking, but you guys have been nothing but supportive,” he said.
I smiled at the ceiling. The gremlin is nicer than I remember.
“Now, I won’t allow you to slack anymore with the amount you’re eating. Not until the competition ends.”
Huh?
Theo had stuck to his word and increased the amount he was cooking. I am now eating the amount of three people in each spread-out meal, still lacking behind Dad’s impressive five person’s amount per meal. So I have been playing catch up with him this entire month.
I realized quickly that I had underestimated the gap between Dad and my appetite. In the last few years, for the most part, I have been eating whatever I want, leaving the rest to Dad. With the exception of eating for the team once a week, I have been slacking. That was quite a hard pill to swallow. I’m 300 pounds, yet not doing a good job as a fatass. How is that possible?
So far I have gained about 23 pounds in the past two months. Normally, I would freak out and have a breakdown in bed because I’ve gained more than my freshman year in two months. Right now with my messed up head, all I can think about is how far I am behind. If we lose this again, it would be once and for all, and I would never let myself live this down. Theo deserves better with how good he’s been treating me.
With my new bulk, the stairs have been an increasing challenge. So, a few weeks ago I moved downstairs to a tiny guest room that was converted to a storage room.
The moment I moved down, I could hear Theo’s voice yelling, “Yes, Finally! Goodbye insomnia,” In my old bedroom. Before, I would’ve yelled for the brat to shut up. Now, with my stomach full. I just wanted a nap in peace.
It took me no time to adjust to the new arrangement. With more time home from all the online classes, I get to be as lazy as I want. Dad has a similar arrangement at home. He retired from being a high school gym teacher and football coach, now he tutors history at home. He also abandoned his hobby of brewing in order to laze on the sofa all day.
On weekdays, Theo would leave an abundance of food for me to consume with a list of how I should eat them to expand my capacity. The weekends are like heaven. From the moment I woke up, Theo would prepare delicious appetizers and pancakes for me. From then on, I would have a constant stream of food flowing into my mouth every thirty minutes. Sometimes, I would move my hands and my mouth would start to chew unconsciously. Alarming, but helpful. 
My belly started to expand outwards on my lap each day as I sat in front of the computer. The arm rest would feel more snug when I move around.
I have now discovered the perks of being a fatass. I can explore things I never had time to do, like the anime Brad has been begging me to watch, games I always wanted to play. Best of all is to experience all of these without moving an inch. These are the things I would definitely look back on with fondness when the competition ends.
***
Today is my rare outing of the month; the bus is late again but I don’t blame them this time. The downpour of rain is gathering at the clogged sewer, creating a puddle. People are supposed to grow out of stepping in puddles when they’re kids. These undeveloped assholes apparently didn’t. Several cars saw the puddle and decided to splash it straight to my face.
It’s fine. It’s all fine. I will feel better later.
I walked a small trail after getting off the bus.
Great. The angels decide to stop peeing from the heavens when I’m about to get inside.
Dad is buying a new SUV, maybe I can drive it next time. It’s too big to sneak off though.
I thought as I skipped through the stone pathway. The usual grass is covered by the water, creating a small pond.
“Annyeonghaseyo,” I said to the door cam.
After pressing the doorbell several times, it replied.
"안녕, fuck boy. Back so soon?" Number Seven said.
“Yeah, yeah. Just open the damn door,” I said, trying to hurry the fucker.
Number Seven’s face appears in front of me.
“You’re soaked! Come on in,” he said.
His house appears to be orderly. Clean. He must’ve had another fatass here not long ago.
“Woah, you look—Wait, let me guess. Another fifteen pounds since last time?” He asked.
“Come on, let’s cut to the chase. I really need it right now,” I urged.
“Hahaha, not even a shower. Desperate much?” He said.
I walked inside his bedroom, dimmed the lights and took off my shirt.
He walked towards me. Grabbing me by the belly hang in one hand, he pulls down my underwear, causing my ass to vibrate.
“Fuuuuck, can you take it out first?” I asked, trying not to moan.
“Sure, you think you’re ready for me today?” He asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” I answered. 
He slid his hand behind, right down my ass crack and slowly pulled the vibrator off. I applied it before leaving home, without accounting for the possibility of the bus delay.
“Mmmmph, fuck,” I groaned.
I’ve been training towards today for a while. In the beginning, I would come to his house and he would suck me off. If I’m feeling experimental, I would suck him off. It stayed like that for about a year and he never complained. Then I asked him for more. He would start fucking me between my moobs or between my ass but never enter. One day, I told him I was ready for him to start fucking me.
Big mistake.
He’s a manwhore for a reason. I didn’t think an 8-inch would be so hard to take. How the girls and twinks take them in porn is beyond me. It was painful when he entered, even when he said he had “loosened my hole” with his fingers. I shouldn’t have believed him, the fucking thing was massive.
After the incident, he gave me small dildos and vibrators to get used to it. We eventually worked our way up the scale until the one he’s holding now. Why did I do all this work to have a men’s dick in my ass? Who knows. I have already accepted that I’ve lost it.
He sucked on my nipple suddenly. The sensation took me by surprise.
“Dude, some warnings please,” I asked.
“Yeah, sorry. Those tits are just so plumped. Your nipples have grown larger than my thumbs now,” he said, about to continue.
“OKAY, I get it. Can you get to work now?” I asked.
My boobs are what everyone thinks about when they see me these days. I’m sick of it.
“Hahahaha, can’t wait to be fucked, my pig?” He said before pushing me down the mattress.
I held my belly to stop it from jiggling. 
He raised one of my legs and opened the bottle of lube with his teeth.
“There’s something by the pillow. Put it in your mouth. It will distract you and dull the initial pain,” Number Seven instructed.
I reached out to grab a—frosted pound cake?
I’ve never seen people doing this in porn, but I’m smart enough to know not everything in porn is real. 
With my mouth full of cake, I spread out my legs, trying to relax so I don’t end up like last time.
He pushed two fingers in, slowly massaging me, then three fingers to stretch my hole. When the frosting melted in my mouth and I finished the chunk of the cake, he signalled me that he was done.
Another piece of the pound cake fills my mouth when he aligns his cock to my hole. He was right, I was fully consumed by the sweetness to notice any discomfort. I quickly swallowed the cake so he could proceed. 
It was unbearably slow as he entered. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about with people bottoming.
He kept asking for reassurance. At this point I just want him to st—
“A-ahhhh oh shiiit!” I moaned.
“Fuuuuuck, what the hell was that?” I screamed.
I must have been too loud and spooked him.
“Are you alright? Sh-should I call an ambulance?” He asked.
“No! Don’t stop, please,” I begged
“Okay, just so you know, I’m not all the way in,” He said.
How? This is already longer than any toys I’ve put in there.
“Gnghhhhh~” I moaned as he thrusts all the way to the bottom.
He kept a steady pace all the way in then almost all the way out, leaving me feeling empty.
“Hurry! Faster,” I asked, almost in tears.
He looked at me with a devious smile and thrust right into the spot.
“Mphn- Yes! Keep going,” I urged.
Every small movement rubbing my G-spot feels like masturbating for hours without release.
He thrusts quicker with more force, causing my belly and moobs to shake violently. 
I try to stabilize my belly with my hand before trying to reach my throbbing cock.
“Help, I-aghh fuck, I need to touch my dick,” I asked.
“Let go of your belly, fat boy. Or I’ll stop,” He said.
Immediately, my belly returned to wobble violently.
“I can’t believe you turned into such a pathetic horny mess in such a short time,” He said.
”Come on, Seven. I just need you to hit that spot. Please, I’ll do anything!” I begged.
He keeps deliberately missing it. I need to be fucked there!
“Keep your hands on your nipples,” he ordered.
The over-sensitive nipples drive my weeping cock into a frenzy.
Fuck, I need to touch my cock right now. If only my fucking belly is not on the way.
“You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were the kind of jock to gain a beer belly in college, and not get fat until you turn thirty,” he said, before ramming straight into my prostate.
“Fuuuuck yeahhh,” I said unintelligently. 
“You are much more of a pig than I realized,” he said, thrusting straight into it again.
“Helll yeahhh,” I said, trying to rob my ass to his dick.
“How do you feel seeing your bubble butt balloons four times the original size?” He asked, followed by another thrust. 
“I fucking love it! I love how it wobbles around whenever I walk!” I said, moving my jiggling ass back to his dick again.
“How do you feel seeing your abs growing before your eyes, knowing you could stop it if you just stop eating?”Another thrust.
“I can’t help it! I love eating too much!” Maybe I am meant to be a fat ass.
“Right answer. Now you’ll get your reward,” he said and sped up, hitting the spot perfectly every time.
I imagine his face to be someone else, someone far from my league.
My cock rubbed against my sensitive underbelly, and I shot out jets of cum for what felt like forever.
As white clouded my vision, a euphoric relief spread over my body, melting me into the mattress.
“You passing out again, fuck boy?” Seven asked.
“No, just enjoying the bliss. I can’t believe so many men in the world are missing out on this,” My hole already feels empty. How am I going to go back from this?
“Aww man, I’m all sticky and shit,” I examined my body, cum shots and rain definitely don’t mix well together. Some of them even got between the fat folds. I swipe my finger in between the fat. “Oof, I stink too.”
Seven looked at me and signed. “You’re somehow still a stupid jock inside.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“I got you the fast food you asked for,” he said.
“Yes!” I rushed to the kitchen.
Ignoring his stupid laugh, I microwaved the burger and fries.
The breeze of the air conditioning reminds me of something.
“Shit, I ran out here naked.”
When I ran back, he had already put my clothes in the dryer, and I got into the shower.
When I got out, Seven brought me an old shirt I left here. It fits me like a glove with half my belly exposed. He stopped laughing when I was about to throw myself on him, then brought out a shirt with the Flash’s symbol on. Probably from another fat ass he fucks. The shirt still looks painted on, revealing the shape of my nipple and the dent of my belly button. At least he’s driving me home.
***
Staying at home has been a life-altering experience. 
The only time I ever move is going out of the bed to the desk, or to the bathroom. All I have to do is sit back, relax, and eat some fried food. 
With more time with myself. I’ve realized how much I dislike all the people in school that only approached me because I was one of the football jocks. I could’ve been anyone. Now, I am me. Not a worry about whether or not I’m muscular enough like other jocks, just a bigger Jay.
Sitting beside me, Dad scratched his belly and released a belch without a care in the world. He has adapted to fat guy mannerisms quickly. I’m catching up too. Today is movie night, usually we have pizzas and beers. We started this when the football season came, he asked to skip it. It was the first time we’ve skipped watching a Super Bowl season. I guess I’m not the only one losing interest in the sport. We decided to watch the Lin-Manuel Miranda Monkey movie instead.
Being on the couch with Dad made me realize I was getting closer to my goal. I can’t wait to see the results.
***
“Hell yeah, my man, you can do it!” Brad said, slapping my shoulder.
“What are you doing here?” I asked
“You said I can come in whenever I like,” he replied.
He’s been breaking into my house for no reason, just to stay on the second floor the entire time doing god knows what.
“I’ve brought some beef jerky here to celebrate,” Brad said.  
The scale has been set up, we’re only waiting on Mom. They’re doing some last minute catch up; mom is using a funnel to pour some milkshake in him. I am not concerned though, sticking to Theo’s strict diet every day has not been easy. I have to eat until my stomach is fully bloated. Every morning, I watch my belly deflate a little less, every evening, it bloats even further. 
“Don’t worry, Jay. We’ve got this,” Theo assured me.
“By the way, what are we doing again?” Brad asked.
Dad came out, looking absolutely massive. With Mom on his side, he stepped on the scale.
The numbers keep going up and don't seem to be stopping.
300-350-392-400-443
Holy shit, Dad gained a hundred and forty pounds this year. 
With more uncertainty, I took my step on the scale.
“Woo-Hoo, Jay man, you got this!” Brad shouted quietly.
I try to look under to see the number, but my belly is too big for me to see the scale.
Theo stepped closer and read. 
“Four Hundred and fifty yes!” Theo cheered.
“I won? Yes, finally!” I said and did a little jump.
The scale made a “Pop” noise.
“Oh! Sorry, Mom. I know this is really expensive.”
“Don’t worry, sweetie. We need to upgrade anyway,” Mom said, then she walked towards Theo.
“Congratulations Theo, you made me pull out every trick in my book. It’s so nice seeing you improve so much in front of my eyes, in terms, you pushed me to improve too,” Mom said, then hugged Theo.
“I can’t believe my boy is bigger than me now. Excellent work, Jay!” Dad said and hugged me, too.
Last time I was bigger than Dad I had sculpted abs, the body I dreamed of. This time, I’m almost three times the size as I was, fully covered with fat. Yet, I feel less empty inside.
“Thank you Dad,” I said, hugging him back. 
After all this time, I finally have a body I like being in. The belly doesn't look so wrong on me anymore.
Chapter 4 ->
927 notes · View notes
mokulule · 11 months
Text
A Man has Needs part 1
This will hopefully be a short thing, maybe three or four parts. Silly with a small dash of angst for flavor. Also someone needs to stop me from starting new stories, instead of indulging my insanity.
Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny)
It had been an exhausting Friday, people were out celebrating the weekend and payday both. To top it off it was prime petty crime weather too with no rain. It was a patrol that would never end. Crime Alley had really lived up to its name tonight.
Jason was exhausted. Not because anything had been particularly challenging or dangerous, but it had just been one very long night of constant stupid little crimes.
It was five in the morning and his bed was calling him. He’d already stashed his gear in storage on the roof and he was so close to being home he could practically feel the soft sheets, the promise of sleep. The open bathroom window was a bother when he was this tired. Maybe he should have just gone down to the street and walked in the door, but keys also seemed like such a bother right now and more stairs… No, window was fine, he was in.
Bed. Now.
He bumped into something outside the bathroom door. Fuzzily he looked down to see a moving box - odd. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, he’d deal with that in the morning. Bed, comfort, safe.
He stumbled into the bedroom when it turned out the door wasn’t properly shut just pushed mostly closed.
Okay check list. Boots off. What else? Pants off, shirt off. He’d pick up in the morning. Did he forget anything? Toothbrush. He glanced backwards halfheartedly, he’d already left the bathroom; bed was right there.
The bed won. Tomorrow he would deal with teeth.
Tomorrow…
He crawled under the sheets. Warm and nice and safe and mmmmh he snuggled closer to the source, breathing in mint and something biting like frosty morning air. His nose buried into soft short hair and breathed in deep again. Good. Amazing. Safe. Sated.
Sleep.
Oo o oO
Danny turned and stretched with a yawn. He frowned when something held him into place. Must have gotten himself caught in the sheets again. It wasn’t a problem, he just slipped away intangibly, rolling to the edge of the bed to reach blindly for the night table.
Where was the phone? It took him a moment but finally it connected with his hand.
He groaned when he saw the time, it was nearly midday. Jazz would frown at him for already messing his sleep schedule up, but he’d just wanted to get as much set up in his apartment as possible, that had to be an okay excuse? He turned back on his back and looked at the light dancing across the ceiling from the light breeze moving the curtains. Okay time to get up. He had another day of unpacking today.
He got out and stretched absently. He turned around intending to make his bed if only to look responsible for when Jazz would come later to see the apartment.
He turned and promptly clapped his hands over his mouth to contain the frightened scream.
There was a guy in his bed! How was there a guy in his bed?! Ancients, what the fuck?!
Wait.
Danny tilted his head, eyes trailed down the muscular and scarred back, to a well shaped butt, which the tight boxers did very little to hide, and then those thighs!
There was a hot guy in Danny’s bed!
Focus Danny. He shook his head and slapped himself for good measure. That wasn’t what was important right now - though those thighs… Ancients, Danny would happily die again crushed by them.
No!
What was important was somehow there was a (hot) stranger in his bed. Danny had not invited him, of that he was sure. He had been unpacking yesterday, there had been no consumption of ghost zone alcohol yesterday, which could otherwise explain the lack of memory.
Which meant the guy had for some reason entered Danny’s apartment and slept with him - in the boring ordinary sense, Danny lamented this fact quietly for a moment.
Danny wasn’t surprised he hadn’t woken up, he slept, well, like the dead. The only thing that would wake him was very loud noises (like his alarm or his Dad’s inside voice) or occasionally his ghost sense.
It wasn’t even that Danny was surprised to find a bedmate. It was rare that Danny slept alone these days. He was, no matter how you put it, a very powerful ghost and he gave off a lot of good concentrated ambient ectoplasm.
Sometime last year the blobs and animal ghosts in Amity had started to join him every now and then when he slept. According to Frostbite it wasn’t so strange. They fed on the energy he gave off and also benefitted from his presence, which apparently radiated safety.
At first he’d been woken up by his ghost sense every time, but he’d gotten to a point where he just subconsciously dismissed the sense when the ghosts in question didn’t have ill intentions.
So Danny wasn’t surprised he wasn’t alone. He’d expected a bit more time to pass before whatever weak ghosts might be around figured out he was here, but you don’t wake up six days out of seven with cuddly animal ghosts in your bed and get surprised by it.
No, Danny was surprised by the fact that it was a guy. A human. A person. With muscled arms and- Oh, Danny realized cheeks heating up, that probably hadn’t been the sheets he’d been stuck in earlier.
Danny covered his face with his hands and groaned in despair.
Why was there a guy in his bed? Why couldn’t there be a guy in his bed for normal reasons? Danny would have brought this guy to his bed for normal bringing a guy to bed reasons.
He crawled onto the bed intending to wake the stranger, but as he reached out for the guy’s shoulder he turned leaning into the touch and sighed like the weight of the world had just lifted off his shoulders.
Danny was frozen, staring at the point of contact. He could sense it now: the man’s malnourished ghost core.
Danny swallowed thickly, suddenly seeing the many scars on the man’s back in a different light and that pure white streak in the otherwise black hair, it all seemed so obvious now.
The man was a halfa, or halfa adjacent. Because that was definitely warm human flesh underneath Danny’s hand.
So incredibly, unbelievably, absurdly this was essentially the same situation as usual, except not at all, because this was a person. Humanoid ghosts and ghosts with human-like or above intelligence didn’t do this. There were social conventions in place and not to mention they were usually powerful enough on their own to not need the ectoplasm.
But this guy was malnourished. He probably never had a good stable source of ectoplasm to properly develop his metabolism. Also to Danny’s metaphysical senses he smelled like he’d done the ghostly equivalent of dumpster diving to survive. Danny’s ectoplasmic aura had to be like the siren call of a buffet table.
Shit.
New plan. Danny was not gonna embarrass the poor guy. The situation was weird enough as it was. Danny was just gonna act like this was normal. Danny woke up with guests practically every day.
This was a person, not an animal, therefore petting was out of the question, so coffee.
Coffee was normal to offer guests. Also Danny needed coffee. He nodded to himself in satisfaction and floated off the bed to enter his combined kitchen and living room. The coffee machine was the first thing he got set up yesterday, clearly smart of past Danny.
It wouldn’t be long before his guest awoke with Danny no longer in the room to supply passive ectoplasm.
Maybe his human stomach wanted food too?
Oo o oO
Jason woke up with his head and nose buried in a pillow that smelled wonderful and comfortable somehow. He breathed in deep, catching mint and that biting cold he vaguely remembered from last night. Now, however he wasn’t dead on his feet, he was awake, more rested than he remember feeling for a long time and his brain connected the details into very alarming facts:
This was not his pillow. This was not his bed.
He sat up, quickly taking in the bare white walls and the stack of emptied and flattened moving boxes leaning against the wall next to a built-in closet.
This was very much not his apartment.
There was a noise of a cupboard clanging shut and Jason’s head snapped to the door that was open just a crack; he was not alone.
Shit.
He jumped out of bed, bending his knees upon impact to soften the sound. He needed to leave. Where was his clothes? His gaze darted around and he hurried to pick up his discarded items of clothing as he found them. Somehow one of his boots had ended up under the bed.
Quickly he pulled on the jeans and the shirt, was he wearing a jacket yesterday? He didn’t remember. Boots on and then he was going out the window- except there was the scent of coffee and something in the air. What was that smell?
He found himself moving to the door instead. The door squeaked as he pulled it open and he froze, hand still on the door handle, when the sound drew the attention of the young man in the kitchen.
His hair was black and sleep tousled, he had a slender athletic build and as he walked around the kitchen island bearing two cups it became apparent he was just wearing boxers. Jason’s inspection ended on his legs, which were admittedly very nice. When he looked back up he found the man standing a cautious distance away and a cute pink blush stretched all the way from his cheeks to his chest. Sky blue eyes looked up a him from underneath slightly frowning brows.
“So, you’re awake,” the man opened with an admirable attempt at a smile considering the situation. There was a beat of silence in which Jason grasped for what to even say, then the man reached his hand forward offering one of the cups, “coffee?”
There were many a thing Jason could say or should say. Like, what the fuck? You’re just gonna offer the guy who broke into your apartment coffee? Or, I’m sorry I broke into your apartment (and bed!)? And, why do you sleep with your windows open and unlocked? This is freaking Crime Alley! Or, what is it that smells so good?
What he actually said was a quiet, “yes, please.”
The cup was warm in his hands as he sipped it. And clearly this was enough for the cute guy because his smile turned more real and he nodded to himself and walked back to the kitchen counter. Jason really hoped that didn’t mean the coffee was poisoned.
“Feel free to take a seat. I hope you like pop tarts, it’s kinda all that I have at the moment.” As if summoned the toaster made a swish noise popping up the tarts. Hesitantly Jason sat down at the small square table paired with two mismatched foldable chairs. He really should turn and jump out a window. There had to be some kind of reckoning coming. Maybe the guy really cared about hospitality and Jason would be questioned after the food? Maybe that’s what was going on.
But also strangely his gut was telling him he was safe here? He really had no clue what to do with that.A paper plate with a pop tart was set down in front of him and after setting down his own pop tart and coffee the man joined him.
Jason was supremely aware of the few inches between their knees. This wasn’t a large table after all and if he moved just slightly they would be touching. But why would he want them to be touching? Why was it so tempting?
Jason clenched his hands firmly and stared down at the pop tart, with an intensity born of the fact that for some reason he had to focus on not knocking knees with a stranger.
“You look at that poor pop tart as if you think it’s gonna explode, that’s not actually what pop tart means, you know.”
Jason looked up at the guy in disbelief.
He rubbed the back of his neck, “yeah that was terrible I know.”
Silence stretched between them and clearly embarrassed the guy hastily took a sip of his coffee and a bite of his pop tart avoiding Jason’s gaze.
Guilt twisted in Jason’s chest, not only did he invade his home he was also making him uncomfortable. His only comfort was the fact that the guy clearly wasn’t afraid of him.
Jason started eating the pop tart. For whatever the reason breakfast was part of the script the guy had decided on to make an attempt at normalcy. What else was Jason to do? He hadn’t fled when he had the chance and-
Oh-
The guy had shifted in his chair, one of their knees were touching, there was a spark and it felt like something uncurled inside him, a weight lifted. Jason blinked. This was…Mint and frost was a sting in his nose, a fullness in his chest. Goose bumps ran along his arms, and it tingled all the way to his fingertips.
Jason snapped his head up, but the guy was just looking at his phone sipping his coffee. As if he couldn’t feel the cold electricity between them. There was no way he could sit like that if he felt it? Was Jason just imagining it? He shuddered and moved slightly, just enough that they weren’t touching and instantly he regretted it. The wave of longing was almost enough to make his vision black out.
The guy looked up with a frown. “You okay, man?”
“Fine,” Jason said hoarsely, desperately focusing on the half eaten pop tart and taking another bite.
When the pop tarts were eaten and the cups emptied the man stood and Jason matched him. Jason wasn’t sure what he expected to happen at this point but it certainly wasn’t the guy, to walk over to his front door with a casual, “well I should get ready for the day.”It was a clear dismissal. An out for the whole strange situation. Jason stood up and walked over to the door.
The guy opened the door letting Jason out with a short electrifying clap on the back and a “Take care, man.”
Jason was left standing outside the door to the previously empty apartment 4A, several floors below Jason’s own top floor apartment. How did he ever mistake it for his own?
What was the deal with the guy’s touch and why did Jason crave it so desperately?
Unsettled. he started walking towards the stairwell. As he moved further away from the apartment the pull to go back lessened. It was still there, but it was replaced quickly by something else.
He felt rested, energized in a way he hadn’t felt in a long while. There was an urge to do something. He felt like he could take on the world - maybe even Sunday dinner at the manor tomorrow.
Jason laughed. Wouldn’t that surprise everyone?
He was so caught up in the euphoria of productivity and social interactions that didn’t go sour for the next couple of days, that he completely forgot about the strange Saturday morning.
-
If you liked this consider telling me your thoughts in the replies or tags, it is motivating. Now to hopefully write a bit on Catnip. Edit: Masterpost now up if you wanna subscribe
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 3 months
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Hi, I’ve never actually sent a request before so hopefully this is okay, but maybe Hotch’s adult daughter calling him dad for the first time when she’s in trouble or hurt which could also open up an opportunity for Hotch to see her mother for the first time since he found out about her
You’re gonna throw your pants in the trash when you get home. The blouse is a loss —getting blood out of champagne material is a pipe dream. But the pants were unscathed until now. 
“Can you look at me?” 
You lift your pounding head. The EMT cups your cheek, her lips quirked into a deep frown as she raises a small flashlight to your eyes. “Just gonna check your pupils again,” she murmurs, shining the light in your eye. 
Each flash has a heated knife of pain slamming into your brain. You moan in pain and tip your head forward, wanting more than anything to lay down. 
“What can I do to make you more comfortable?” the EMT asks. 
“I want to go to the hospital,” you say. Surely they can fix the carving agony behind your face. 
“I know. As soon as the ruckus upstairs is clear, we’re going to take you there.” 
“I don’t want to sit here.” You grimace at the clammy stone under your legs. The subway is not a good place to touch things. 
“It’ll be over soon. There’s a heavy police presence. You’ll be okay.” 
“Got blood on my shirt,” you mumble. 
“I’m sure someone will wash it for you.” 
“My dad,” you say without thinking. 
If you asked, Aaron would wash the blood from your shirt. He could buy you a whole new wardrobe and he would if you let him, but he would just as happily stand at the sink scrubbing away your stains. 
“Ah, Mr. Hotchner,” the EMT says. “I’ve heard about him, I think we all have. He’s a very important man.” 
“He’s just my dad,” you whisper. 
You’re not really talking to her anymore, the thumping pain behind your eyes a wave you can’t get past. It hurts with every breath. When you hold out your hand, the EMT knows without asking that you’re going to throw up. 
She’s more alarmed after that. “Okay, I’m gonna take you upstairs now, okay? I’m sorry there’s no gurney, but we just have to get to the top of the stairs.” 
Each step sucks. You taste blood and vomit alike on your tongue, the daylight is too bright as you ascend the steps, and the EMT isn’t taking enough of your weight. You moan something incomprehensible even to yourself on the second to last step and cover your eyes, aware of the sirens, the roaring crowds, glass shattering at your feet. 
“Shit,” the EMT says. 
You search for your phone blindly, your hand lost in a pocket full of gum wrappers and tissue. “I don’t have my bag... I want my phone. Need to call my dad.” 
“It’s okay,” she says, giving you an encouraging jostle to look out at the clearing sidewalk. “I can see him.” 
Aaron is speed-walking through the crowd. He’s surrounded by people in Kevlar vests, but he himself wears nothing more than his usual suit and tie. His face changes when he sees you from glaring to a strange flitting panic. 
“Are you all right?” he asks, jogging those last few metres to take you by the elbows. “Sweetheart, are you all right?” 
Your eyes are tired. “Somebody hit me,” you say. 
“I know.” His sympathy is warm, his hand smoothing up your arm as he turns on the spot. “Morgan, can we get better access down this street?” 
One of the Kevlar vests doubles back the way they came. You’re trying to make sense of who you’re seeing, and what’s happening, but the confusion since you got hurt is enthusiastic. You can’t make sense of anything but the splitting pain in your head. 
Aaron’s talking five miles a second and ushering you up those last few steps, a gentleness to his touch that’s absent in his barked commands. 
You’ve never heard him shout like that. You can’t help staring at him. 
“This is an attempted insurrection. The aggression is only going to get worse. JJ, see if you can coordinate with metro PD, make sure there aren’t any other injured civilians in the subway. Dave, I need you to run the operation while I go with her.” 
“Aaron,” you say, watching his frown deepen. 
“Reid, you’re with JJ. Prentiss, I want you to find who laid hands on her–”
“Aaron,” you say again, shocked. 
He gives your arm a placating squeeze. 
“They could still be here.” Everything he says is unarguable. He’s suddenly a monolith, and he’s freaking you out, and you’re no closer to being in the back of the ambulance than you had been ten minutes ago. “Have Garcia pull the security footage–”
“Dad,” you say in a short breath, your hand grasping weakly at his arm. 
He falls silent for a moment. The agent you’re unfamiliar with becomes the man who brings you teddy bears at dinner and sends encouraging missives in the morning. 
“What, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asks. Not gentle, but hushed.
“I think I’m gonna be sick again.” 
The EMT passes you a paper bag. 
You could hear a pin drop in your hospital room. Your broken nose has its own heartbeat, but that’s a feeling, rather than a sound. Aaron hasn’t spoken in a long time, he just sits there with his hand on your arm, waiting for a cue you don’t give. You’re so embarrassed about calling him dad you’ve decided to never speak to him again. 
His hand occasionally comes to life, giving your arm a soft up and down. 
It’s strange to suddenly have a father, but not bad. His paternal caring is a comfort with all the pain, and it doesn’t feel stilted. With Aaron it never has, he found out you were his and he immediately began to act like it, though you suppose you’ll never know how he would’ve loved you as an adult if he’d known you as a child. This feels genuine. Careful, but genuine. 
“Time to take it off,” he says. 
You meet his eyes. 
“The ice pack,” he explains. 
You drop it onto your leg, and he takes it and sets it on the rollover table instead. 
“You can come and stay with me for a few days,” he suggests quietly.
“I’ll be okay.” 
“Your mom’s working. I can take the time off.”
You give him a dubious look. “And then you’ll get called away and it’ll be just me and Haley in the house. That won’t be awkward at all.” 
He shakes his head. “You’re hurt. You’re gonna feel dizzy for at least another day, and that’s not thinking about how hard it’s gonna be to breathe for a while. I’ll stay home, and you can get familiar with my guest room.” 
“You don’t have to look after me.” 
“But I want to.” He holds your wrist. “I know we aren’t a conventional father and daughter…” His brow furrows, and he looks at your hand just below his rather than your face. “I want the chance to look after you. How many times were you sick as a kid? Hundreds of times. Mostly colds, a runny nose. Maybe you– maybe you broke your arm, I don’t know. But I wish I did. I owe it to you to take care of you now.” 
You give him a small smile as he raises his head. 
“Just think about it,” he says, “we’ll be here all night anyways.” 
“You can go home.” 
“Don’t be difficult,” he says, his sincerity swapped for teasing as he stand. “I have to go find you something to eat.”
He stoops to give you a warm hug across your shoulders. You should want it to be over quickly, you smell like blood and sick and sweat, your clothes are ruined, and you’re not used to him seeing you like this, but let the feeling of his hand on your back persuade you into closing your sore eyes. 
“Okay?” he asks. 
“I’m okay.” 
“Okay. I need to do a lap before your mother gets here anyhow. I might… be more unkind than I plan on being, otherwise.” 
You laugh at his half-joke and hurt your face. He is very sorry. 
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sanguineterrain · 3 months
Note
okay i've had this thought brewing for a while and i think you're the only writer who would do it justice!
reader meets jason again post-lazarus pit and he's amazed by how different reader is look-wise. reader was a teenager the last time they saw jason and now as an adult they've gotten a more "adult" body. reader is curvier, fleshier, no longer as lean as they were as a teen and is a bit self conscious about their body. but it drives jason wild to see his old crush all grown up into this mature body, hell he's changed a lot too. but yeah i feel like jason would be so body positive and full of praise 🩷
decided to combine this with a request i got for this prompt: 8) we share the bed because this is what we’ve done since we were kids, regardless of the adult implications now. i so agree with you anon, i think jason would be simultaneously body positive and absolutely FERAL for his old/current crush ;)
jason todd x gn!plus-sized!reader. reader used to work with the bats and is best friends with jayjay. reader is insecure and speaks poorly about their body. jason does NOT like that and desires you carnally! wahoo! suggestive content but no outright smut.
****
You haven't been in Jason's room in five years.
Alfred's kept it pretty much the same. Same books on the shelves, same Gotham Knights sweatshirt Dick gave Jason for his birthday. The curtains are the same shade of maroon, and the left one has a tear from when you played with a batarang. Jason had covered for you and was grounded for a week.
You flip through a dog-eared copy of The Three Musketeers. A few of the pages have underlining in pencil. You trace them with your finger.
The door creaks open. You look up.
Jason freezes in the threshold. His wrist is bandaged and you can see stitches on his forehead. You frown.
"Hey." You set down the book and go to him, offering your shoulder for him to lean on. "You okay?"
Jason sighs, ignoring your shoulder. "Who called you?"
"What d'you mean? We're psychically linked, Jay-Jay. I sensed that there was trouble afoot in Gotham City."
"Uh-huh. That didn't work when you tried to convince the old man I needed a puppy because you psychically divined that it knew me in a previous life."
"You and that Terrier were soulmates and I'll hear nothing of the contrary."
You take Jason's arm, despite his protests that he can make it two feet to the bed. He lays down, trying to hide how his arm twinges in pain. You frown and slip in beside him.
Jason's a lot bigger than he was the last time you shared a bed. Well. You both are. You roll over so you're facing him, squished against his side. You pull your leg up, suddenly self-conscious about everything Jason might be able to see.
Jason is warm. He's warm and big and solid and good God, you've missed him.
Your best friend is also fucking gorgeous and you really want to kiss him, but, uh. Ignoring that. You're very practiced at ignoring the urge to kiss Jason.
"Thanks for comin'."
The light is still on, casting a soft orange glow across Jason's features. He glances at you, lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. You can count all the freckles on his nose, this close.
"I'll always come when you call, Jay," you say. "Well, when Dickie calls. Said you got a concussion."
He turns his head, sighing at the ceiling. "'S not a big deal. Mild concussion. Leslie said I'll be fine in a week, but we all know that's code for two days."
"Yeah, I don't think so. You bats really are birds of a feather."
"How dare you. 'M nothing like those wackos."
"Sure, buddy. Keep lying to yourself. You brought me in all those years ago for a little normalcy."
"My mistake," Jason says.
He gets thwacked with a pillow for that. It fluffs his curls. He grins at you.
You tuck in closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. Jason turns his head so his cheek rests on the top of your head.
"You can have the bed," he says.
"Don't be a silly goose."
"'M gonna go home anyway."
You scoff. "Not like this, you're not."
"Been worse for wear."
You roll your eyes. "How are you gonna ride your bike with a hurt wrist and a concussion, genius?"
"Please, babe. The real question is how will I sneak past Alfred?"
"I'm a babe, now?"
Jason half-smiles. "Always were."
"Liar. Can you imagine me in a Batsuit again? Exactly, you can't. I simply don't have the bod for it."
"Hey." Jason reaches down and gently pinches your thigh. "Why ya doin' that?"
"Doing what?"
"Talkin' bad about yourself. Don't do that. 'Sides, it ain't true."
"Jaybird." You level him with a look. "Be serious. I know you're my best friend and you have to say that, but c'mon. I've seen the hotties you work with. Hell, I've seen Bruce and Dickie."
Jason's face twists in disgust. "Do not call my dad and brother hot."
"Okay, fine. I've seen you."
His brows rise. "What?"
"What, what?"
"Are you... callin' me..."
You snort. "Duh. Have you seen yourself? You've always been cute, Jason. If you didn't have the demeanor of a honey badger, you'd be fending off marriage proposals left and right from the Gotham public. You've always been the prettier one of us, Jay-Jay."
Jason's quiet. You keep going.
"Anyway, neon's never been my color, and it seems like that's a pretty immovable requirement these days. Like, I get Clark's trying to be seen from space but he doesn't get bloated. And the Spandex? Goodness gracious—"
"Y'really see yourself like that?"
Jason's staring at you with a wrinkled brow, mouth set.
"Like what?"
"Like you're not pretty? Like I'm too good for ya?"
You prop your head up on your arm. "You've always been too good for me, Jason Todd."
"That's just not true. And you're fuckin' beautiful, so stop sayin' that shit."
You blink. "Jay, c'mon—"
"No. It's true, so stop. You're the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure to know, and if anybody's gettin' proposed to, it's you."
"Jason." Your face is on fire. Why did you open your mouth? "Stop. It's fine. So I'm different; my body's changed and shit. I'm not an athletic vigilante anymore. My thighs have, like, their own zip code. It's my own fault. I didn't keep up the training and whaa—!"
In one fluid motion, Jason's rolled you onto him. Your legs straddle his waist. You catch yourself on his shoulders, then begin to scramble off, burning with embarrassment.
"Sorry, I'm heavy, you're injured—" you babble, picking up your leg.
"Will you quit?" Jason keeps your leg exactly where it is, tenderly stroking your ankle with his thumb. "Actin' like I'm made of whipped cream."
"You're concussed."
"Mildly."
"Stop, Jason. Please. You don't have to do this to-to prove a point. I get it, I won't talk bad about myself."
Bit hypocritical, considering some of the stuff you know for a fact Jason believes about himself.
But this is humiliating, your extremely attractive, crime-fighting best friend pretending that you haven't totally let yourself go all to bolster your ego.
"Nah, I don't think you get it," Jason says conversationally. His hand creeps under your shirt. You squirm. "I really, really don't think you get how fuckin' gone I am for ya."
"Huh?"
"Oh, yeah. Now, that's my fault, never sayin' anything. I was being cowardly. So lemme make it clear for ya, sweetheart."
His hand leaves your ankle and pulls your face to his. And then Jason kisses you.
"You're concussed," you whimper against his mouth. "Jason, you're—"
Jason laughs, low and sweet. He strokes the side of your face. "I could have amnesia and I wouldn't forget the fact that I've been in love with my best friend since I was fourteen."
"Are you sure you don't want me to move? I can—"
"No way. Y'know how long I've wanted you on me? Shit, I sound like a creep, thinking 'bout you like that, but—"
Jason rolls you both onto your sides. He hefts your leg over his, so you're slotted between each other. Then he kisses your neck, mouth hot and desperate. You gasp, belly swooping.
How long have you wanted this? How long did you believe you'd never feel this way about another person after Jason?
"I can promise you," Jason says, breathing hard against your skin. "You're a knockout. You knock me out. And I'll knock out anyone who says otherwise."
You huff and get a little braver, kissing Jason and returning him onto his back. He grins, sharp and hungry. He wants you. There's no doubt.
"I still think you're concussed," you murmur, letting him feel up your shirt. "But lucky for you, I have the utmost sympathy for poor, bedridden bats."
Jason hums, grunting when your teeth scrape his ear. "Oh, I've always known I was the lucky one, having you."
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esouliie · 7 months
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BUT DADDY, I LOVE HIM
– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem! reader
– synopsis | you and wanda come back from a very successful first mission together and decide to celebrate in the shower.
– warnings | soo if you’re a mutual dnr (jk), this is literal filth, dom/sub dynamic, spanking mention, fingering (both! receiving), face slapping, mommy kink of courseee, pet play, dub con kinda(?) bc she forces you to pee… so piss kink🤠, dacryphilia, oral (w! receiving), some aftercare and cute lil fluff moment at the end as wanda wraps you in her towels bc she’s so mommy! :3 (18+)
– notes | i honestly have nothing to say about this other than i wanted to try something new and out of my comfort zone. it was supposed to be a blurb but ended being over 2.6k so enjoy lmao >.<
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It was your first mission as a couple. Unsurprisingly, it went well. To your core, you knew you’d both be fine. Wanda's leadership and responsibility were unwavering, and you knew deep down that you'd both succeed. Yet, your anxiety had waged its own battle, inundating you with "what ifs" and worst-case scenarios throughout the week.
The adrenaline still courses through your veins, mingling with the fatigue that weighs down your muscles. Dust and grime cling to your clothes, evidence of the challenges you faced together. But amidst the exhaustion, there's a sense of accomplishment, knowing you've made your girlfriend proud.
On the flight home, you shared a tired chuckle, the tension of the mission slowly fading away in the comfort of each other's presence. And all those earlier nerves fading to nothing but relief, knowing you’re both going home. Safe and sound.
“I need this suit off me,” Wanda exclaims, her voice weary but tinged with a hint of amusement. She kicks off her boots, already having peeled off her corset, dropping it in a heap by the door.
You giggle in agreement, the sight of your usually intimidating girlfriend as she struggles to take off her tactical gear highly amusing. “Yeah, I think I need a shower to feel human again.”
The sweat-slicked fabric of your own corset sticks uncomfortably to your skin. You would’ve thought Tony would at least have the decency to make your suit more breathable if he was going to stick you in a tight corset…. guess not.
Wanda shoots you a pointed look as you fiddle with your top. Your breasts push deliciously against the black fabric and she licks her lips at the sight of you - totally unaware of her growing desire.
“Well, we could save some water and shower together.”
The suggestion doesn’t catch you off guard as you’re used to the witch coming up with lame excuses to see you naked, and the idea of standing under the hot spray with an equally naked Wanda sounds infinitely more appealing than facing the solitude of your own shower.
“You know, if you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just said so.”
With a smirk and after a quick press of her lips against yours, Wanda heads towards the back of the apartment, tossing a teasing glance over her shoulder as she beckons for you to follow. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
“Hold on, babe,” You quickly follow in her steps, your trousers and socks long gone, as you enter the shared bedroom, heading for the en-suite. “I need to use the bathroom first-”
Soft lips cut you off as hands slip around your back, swift in removing your blasted corset. She doesn’t wait to grope your chest - deciding she’s been teased enough seeing you in that tight material - and thumbs swipe over pebbled nipples, as she bites her way down your neck.
With an attitude that Wanda usually wouldn’t let slide, "This couldn't have waited five minutes?" 
She replies with a quick “nope” and a harsh nip as she mouths at your skin, now adorned with pretty little red marks.
“But I need to go-” Her teeth digging softly into your nipple interrupts your train of thought as your hands shoot up to weave into dark curls, scraping at her scalp.
You say her name in a breathy moan and she replies with her own; kissing, licking, and sucking as much of you as she can. Your eyes flutter close but an ever harsher pinch to your nipple jolts you forward, eyes wide in search of the culprit.
“Eyes on me.” And with that, she steps away, starting the shower as she adjusts the temperature until steam billows from the stall in a comforting cloud.
As she moves under the spray, you can't help but admire the way the water glistens on her skin, tracing the curves of her body in rivulets that disappear beneath the cascading stream. Emboldened by the steam and the intimacy of the moment, you strip off your panties and join her in the shower, letting the water wash away the tension that has settled in your muscles.
For a while, there is only the sound of water pounding against tile, as you both take time to clean yourselves on irrespective sides. The shower was big enough for more than two, designed with two large showerheads on either side and one in the middle that you never turn on. But then, Wanda breaks the silence with a soft laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she looks at you.
“Cute butt.”
You turn your head towards her, refusing to turn fully away from the warm stream cascading down your front.
“What? This butt?” You tease, hands gliding down your hips to grab a handful of your cheeks, before rubbing slow circles, making a show of the usually marked flesh.
Wanda may have liked having you as her good girl, but there was only so much you could take before reverting to your bratty self.
Turning away from your girlfriend, not letting her win at her game of teasing, you resume cleaning yourself. But, light fingertips brushing along your left nipple tell you she’s no longer on her side. The water makes everything even more slick, a delicious friction that almost wasn't. 
She guides the heel of her other hand down your side, cresting over your ribs until it reaches your ass. Rubbing circles over where your hands were, her eyes glazed over remembering the last time she had you bent over her lap, hues of purple and red stretched over the skin as she spanked you for mouthing off in front of the team.
She husks, “Uh huh. But I like it better with my marks all over.”
Not wasting any more time, she wraps an arm around, fingers sliding down your lower stomach and graciously over your slit, just nearly missing your bundle of nerves. As if she was the one being played with, she groans freely into your ear, her front grinding flush against your back.
“Spread your legs.” And you find yourself obeying, weight shifting to rest on your palms against the tiles. She chuckles softly, teasing you along the lines of being an “eager baby,” before two fingers glide across your peaked clit, and then curl them into your hot passes.
Your head begins to throb, a sign of the tension building within you. "Don't tease," you plead, knowing that the steam only exacerbates your headache. You reach for the faucet, desperately craving relief from the suffocating heat, but a hand stops you.
You find yourself being spun around to face the taller woman, your back arching away from the cold bite of the tiles. She stares down at you with an all familiar head tilt that dares you to challenge her, to defy her from taking what is hers.
But you remain still and she takes that as an initiative to slide inside deeper, a small smile on her face at your obedience. Starting at a hard yet slow pace, she fucks into you with little remorse. A reminder of that she owns you and can have you however she wants.
Just how you like it.
“Such a pretty little slut. Taking my fingers like that, huh? So fucking greedy.” She laughs as you cling onto her towering figure, the pleasure all too consuming as you whine and whimper so openly.
Chasing that high, you fail to notice how different you feel. Waves of pleasure burdened with a slight ache as you flutter around her. The front of your walls stimulated constantly as you rock into her thrusts. Looking down, you watch as she disappears inside of you and suddenly you remember how you needed to pee earlier. The urge to go had left as soon as Wanda started to suck at your nipples.
Your head snaps back, eyes searching to catch Wanda’s attention. But it was already on you as a smirk spreads across her face. “Don’t you have to go, baby?” She asks in a husky whisper.
Your mouth opens but no sound comes out as you resort to nodding relentlessly.
“Aw, you can hold it for me, can’t you?” She coos, fingers never slowing their pace. “I want to play with you a little longer.”
Knowing you won’t be able to hold out, the need to go growing stronger and stronger now that you remember, you whine out, “No, please, Wands- I won’t- I can’t hold it.”
With a fake sigh that conveyed an air of dissatisfaction and yet subtle empathy, “Then go right here.”
You grimace at the thought of peeing on your girlfriend, how gross it would be… the embarrassment would be too much to recover from.
“I don’t want to.” You admit, embarrassment working its way slowly into your mind, not far enough gone to allow Wanda to think for you.
She doesn’t like that, and so, her fingers work faster inside of you. Her other hand moving between pinching your nipples mercilessly and holding your hips down.
“I don’t care.” She hisses out, “If you need to go, you better do it now. Don’t make Mommy wait.”
Making Wanda wait was something you didn't really want to do, having seen the consequence on many occasions when you couldn’t come when she permitted you, but it was difficult. What she was asking of you was difficult.
With her less busy hand, she slaps a palm against your cheek, the sound echoing against the tiled walls, wet skin against wet skin making the assault sting worse than usual. “I won’t tell you again, slut.”
She doesn’t like how easily you can lose focus, your brain clearly overworking when you should be letting go, focusing solely on her.
You mumble out a soft “okay”, not wanting to be slapped again, before closing your eyes and willing yourself to relax around her fingers. Your body no longer fighting against the urge, fighting to hold it in.
But tight circles around your sensitive clit and fingers deep inside don’t stop as they continue pushing you closer to the edge. Your hand grips tight around her wrist, but to no avail. She was too strong and you couldn’t help but surrender to your throes of pleasure.
Hot liquid runs down the inside of your thighs and your eyes snap shut, shielding yourself from what’s happening, as you also begin to come – unable to stop the stream of piss, the flow faster and out of control as fingers still fuck into you.
“Oh, darling... look at you.” She coos, a hint of bewilderment evident in her voice. Not expecting you to actually look, but teasing you for it all the same. She revels in the way the warm liquid slips through her fingers on to the white flooring.
Despite how mean she was, you hold tight onto her as you lose the ability to stand on your own, legs wobbling beneath. You feel her push you further into the wall, using her body as support, not wanting to take her hand away from your weeping pussy.
“That’s it.” She says softly, fingers coaxing more pleasure from your clit. “Such a messy puppy.”
Tears fall from beneath your eyelids and you open your mouth to speak, only to be silenced with her tongue down your throat.
“That was so hot.” She admits before diving back in, teeth clashing as you open your mouth wide enough for her taking. Her tongue draws yours out as she wraps around it, sucking feverishly. Feeling you release all over her fingers - the heat easily detectable under the stream of water above as you managed to splash against her pale skin - turned her on so much, she couldn’t help but fidget, battling the urge to just fuck against your soaked thigh.
The kiss eventually comes to an end, the need to breathe overpowering the need for having Wanda explore your mouth, a few hungry strands of saliva linking you together.
“Good job, baby. You did so good for me.” She says, coaxing you further into that fuzzy feeling. She nuzzles into your neck, lightly nipping over your fluttering pulse, soothing the heated skin with her tongue. The steam making it harder to see anything clearly. You whine in reply, words no longer existing in your mind, as your heavy arms wrap around her waist.
Wanda, unbeknownst to you, wants you in this headspace—all clingy and dependable. She knows how easily things affect you, so she knew that pushing you hard like she did earlier, forcing you to pee all over her, would only cause your brain to overthink and turn against you. She had to keep you like this, for your sake as well as hers.
“I know you’re feeling all floaty but Mommy needs you to do something for her, sweetheart.” She grabs your hand heading towards the slick between her thighs. She was dripping, her clit so swollen it was hard to miss, and you couldn’t help but trace slow circles around the bud. “Mommy needs you here.”
She encourages you further with a moan so arousing, it had you almost slipping inside of her, desperate to make her come around your fingers already.
She whines, needing you to focus. “I want your mouth, baby.”
You sink to your knees, knocking her legs apart to accommodate. You hoist a leg and place it over your shoulder before leaving a line of wet kisses from her knee to the inside of her thigh. Her fingers caress your face, before getting a good hold of your wet curls and drawing you closer to where she needs you most. You waste no time and lick the length of her centre, greedily taking in the arousal that had gathered there. Wanda lets out a low groan and your eye flutter at her sweet taste. She urges you with the hand that was still tangled in your hair. Obedient to the woman’s demand, you push closer, tongue teasing around her entrance as the tip of your nose pushes into her nerves.
The grip in your curls tightens as she begins to guide your head up and down, your tongue running from just inside her, up along that sweet nerve. She curls forward, one hand against the wall, as she fucks against your face. You lick greedily, jaw slack as you let her take control, smearing her wetness all over.
Every pant melds with a breathy moan as she chases her orgasm. Lost in pleasure, she knocks your head against the tiles. It hurts - your headache now forming for certain - but she doesn’t notice until one sharp thrust has you letting out a sharp cry.
“Oh, I’m sorry, baby.” She husks, arousal still clouding her senses, but she’s concerned with your wellbeing as the hand in your hair travels to soothe where you hit your head, making sure there’s no bumps or cuts. Your eyes flutter shut but you don’t revel in the comfort for too long. Her diagnoses done, she guides you back to her pussy.
She doesn’t fuck your face this time, allowing you the space to gingerly tease her entrance, and within a few seconds, your curling your fingers inside while making a hither motion, eliciting long moans from the older woman.
You don’t bother working your way up, knowing how close she was to finishing before she stopped, as you flick at her clit, fingers pressing against her front walls with an expertise only she could teach you.
At this point, Wanda can’t stop moaning. Her hand leaving your hair as she palms her breasts, slipping her nipples between her fingers and pinching the sensitive flesh. Words of encouragement fly from her lips as she lingers on the edge and you work faster, harder, propelling her forward into a blinding orgasm. Her body trembles violently and you smooth your palms over her thighs, feeling the strong muscles rippling beneath.
“Fuck.” She draws out, light flicks of your tongue helping her come down, before she’s ushering you back on to your feet. You slide up and press against her awaiting lips, pushing your body against hers. Sensitive nipples rub against each other and she groans as she tastes herself, hungrily kissing back. She’s always been able to recover much quicker than you.
“Thank you, baby.” She whispers, still a little breathless, before she turns to shut off the water. Her hand grasps yours and you step out the shower, feeling a slight chill as the warmth of the water dissipates. Wanda reaches for a fluffy towel, wrapping it around you first before turning her attention to herself. With practiced ease, she begins to pat your skin dry, her touch sending ripples of warmth through you.
 She always takes such good care of you.
“Looks like I need to wrap your hair.” She says, a tender smile gracing her lips. She had managed to avoid getting her hair wet unlike you with your curls clinging to the sides of your face. Her fingers work deftly to wrangle them into a towel but she’s had enough experience and managed to do it first time.
“All done, little mermaid.” She lets go with a peck to your lips, moving towards the door, and you grab onto her stretched out hand.
“Come on,” She tugs gently, “Let’s watch a movie.”
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artyandink · 3 months
Text
that’s my man (and my woman)
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Summary: Your kids are curious little buggers. Asking questions about everything and anything under the sun. So there comes the complications of when your kids ask you if you’ve fallen in love before. How will you explain everything? Time to put your imagination to use.
A/N - I’ve been putting out a lot of sexy fics recently. Why not some fluff?
Song Inspo: Style - Taylor Swift and Perfect - Ed Sheeran
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It took so long just to get two human beings to eat breakfast.
“Charlie, Sam, breakfast!” You called up the stairs, sighing after you did. Your hands were on your hips in true mom fashion, and disbelief and faux-regret was your adrenaline high this time as you wondered why exactly you had kids. That you loved to death despite their poor eating schedule. “Come on, I made pancakes.”
The thundering of little feet on the stairs told you that you had two incoming hurricanes.
Your seven year old boy, Sam, and your five year old girl, Charlie, appeared at the bottom of the stairs with broad smiles, crashing into you for a bear hug that knocked the wind out of your sails. You laughed as you hugged them back, giving a few pats of their head each. “Hey, there. Ready for breakfast?”
“Is there syrup?” Charlie asked eagerly, running and hopping into a high chair, grabbing her plate of pancakes and bringing it to her with a familiar lick of her lips and happy, twitchy grin. Sam had gotten his father’s hair, while Charlie had gotten yours. But the eyes were swapped around, and it was always a point of laughing. Not one child could be more like one or the other.
Arguably, both kids had their father’s dimples and smile. So yes, he could stake his claim.
“And whipped cream?” Sam added with a toothy grin.
“Raspberries?”
“Blueberries?”
You shook your head with a chuckle; such chatterboxes. You opened the fridge and a cabinet, getting out the maple syrup, whipped cream and strawberries. “Not too much, ok?” You passed the toppings to them, and with a chorused ‘yes, mom’, they proceeded to completely disregard your orders. It made you shake your head again, huffing out a breath when all sense of scolding them disappeared once you saw the golden morning light hitting their little heads as they squealed and laughed.
Kids. You loved them to bits.
“Mom,” Charlie asked through a bite of pancake and whipped cream that smeared over her mouth, “have you ever loved someone before?”
The question startled you slightly, but you grabbed a kitchen towel, cleaning her lips with a soft smile as she shied away with a shriek of delight, little bunches waving about wildly. “Course I have, sweetie. But only once.”
“Ooh, tell me, tell me!” She giggled, while Sam cringed a little, muttering a small ‘gross’ that got a sharp glare and pout from Charlie. Out of care for his little sister, he shut himself up.
You took a slow breath in to give yourself time to think, leaning on the counter and putting down the paper towel. “Well, it started a long time ago. When I was twenty six, all young.”
“That’s old.” Sam wrinkled his nose in confusion. You scoffed lightly, because it damn wasn’t, but he was just a kid.
“Behave, Samuel.” You ruffled his hair with a laugh. “We met at my old job. 4th October, 2006. He had his brother with him. Now, I thought he was trouble. He had a leather jacket and one of those really fancy, loud cars and he was very popular with girls.” You reached out to tickle Charlie’s side, which had her squeaking. “But he was likeable, and charming, so I wanted to bump into him more often.”
“Was he cool?” Sam perked up, suddenly very interested. “He sounds cool.”
You pinched his chin affectionately. “The coolest. But our job was very tiring. We went through a lot of big stuff, like I told you in your bedtime stories. There would be vampires and werewolves and fairies of all kinds, but he and I would always save the day. And if we didn’t, we’d save the next day.”
“You saved the world!” Charlie exclaimed, making an aeroplane with a pancake bite on her fork. The action sent a flutter of warmth and love through your chest. For your family. Something you thought you’d never have.
You nodded, guiding the bite to her mouth gently before your hyperactive child sent the fork flying. “That’s right, gumdrop. We saved the world.” It was like telling a story, of you and your prince. “I couldn’t help but love him. He’d call me sweetheart and hold me tight. He’d look at me with a wide smile on his face, just for me. And he told me I was the one he was looking for.”
“That’s corny.” Sam piped up, but he also had a wide, goofy, dimpled grin on his face. He leaned forward. “So, where is he now? Did you two leave each other?”
“Well, he-” The sound of the door opening and closing echoed through the house, followed by soft padding steps and heavier ones not so far behind.
“Sweetheart, I’m home!” A familiar voice called, the deep one which always had your stomach doing flips. That you heard murmuring sweet nothings in your ear every damn day. “C’mon Miracle, stay still- attaboy. Such a good boy.”
“That would be your father.” You sighed, not in a disappointed way, but a lovesick teenager way because hearing the word ‘sweetheart’ from your husband’s mouth never got old.
Your husband. Damn, you didn’t think you’d make it to that point. Not when Chuck was still a threat. Or even that rebar that Jack saved him from.
Your kids shrieked happily and practically flew off their high chairs, sprinting towards their dad, who was busy taking off his jacket in the hallway.
Dean Winchester. All 6’ 1” of flannel and denim, but this time with burden-free smiles and lit up looks.
When he saw his two munchkins, the jacket was off in a flash and he’d bent to one knee in order to absorb the impact of two koala hugs. “Aw, hey, squirt number one and two. Hope you didn’t give your mom much trouble.”
It felt so much better than the impact of a punch. Indescribably better.
“Dad!” The two giggled at the same time, accepting two kisses on the forehead each while being smothered by their dad’s strong arms. Warm and comforting and no longer instruments of destruction.
They’d always be somewhat like that, Dean thought in the back of his mind. The seed of doubt sowing in again.
Then Dean saw you in the hallway, and his brain forgot to work, doubts forgot to sow and crept into the dark corner it came from. You, his wife (he never got tired of the way that word rolled off his tongue), Mrs Winchester, standing there all pretty looking at him with those eyes of yours that always saw through his crap and often jackassery.
Dressed up in his undershirt, your sweats with the last few winks of sleep yet to go from your eyes, but still working yourself to the bone to make sure your kids had a good meal. A far cry of the days where he’d look up, see you covered in blood that wasn’t yours, adrenaline-pumped with that sexy fire in your eyes, machete in hand instead of that ring he bought around your finger.
He preferred this look on you. It meant you were safe.
Dean watched as you gave Miracle an idle scratch before ushering the kids into the kitchen, then walking up to him and wrapping those gorgeous arms around his neck, gorgeous eyes twinkling and your gorgeous lips stretched into a smile.
The whole nine yards, apple pie and picket fence of gorgeous and it was all his. All his personal heaven.
“Mrs Winchester.” He murmured, nudging your nose with his as his arms circled your waist, drawing you in and gripping your hips with both underlying possessiveness and a tender glow in those emerald eyes. Your soul soaring and low, warm vibrations in your body increasing until it was at the frequency of his. Syncing you both.
“Mr Winchester.” You giggled softly as you let your lips meet his once, pulling back. Then you couldn’t help yourself, letting them meet in holy matrimony again. And again. And again, over and over until you were both mentally and physically restraining yourselves due to your children being in the next room.
“We have to stop.” Dean chuckled, his hand tangling in your hair as the other inched down from its place on your hip, taking yet another hit of your honeyed lips.
“We do.” You whispered back, meeting his ministrations with the slow massage of your thumb against his scalp from where your fingers ran through his hair, your other hand on his chest.
Over his heart.
“Hard to when y’looking so pretty, darlin’, and you know it.” He huffed, nuzzling your nose before dipping to press a slow, hot kiss to your jugular. “Wearin’ my shirt too, hardens the bargain. And these sweats, god, you know what they do for your ass.” As if to punctuate his point (and sentence), he gave a quick, firm slap to it. “Ain’t makin’ it easy for me here, baby.”
“Dean!” You squeaked, giggling. “Our kids are in the kitchen.”
“Lil’ buggers. My sex drive’s arch nemesis.” He groaned against your neck, but listened anyway, taking his hand off your ass and cupping your cheeks, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead, then hairline. “C’mon.” You two made your way to the kitchen, where Miracle then padded over, rearing on his hind legs to paw at Dean’s jeans for attention. He obliged, bending down to ruffle Miracle’s golden coat.
“Hey, boy.” He whispered, fingers doing good work to give Miracle the love he was whining for. “I love you a lot, ok? But I’ve got a wife, a very sweet, very sexy…” Dean gave you a once over with a lick of his lip and a quick bite of the bottom one, “wife. And I wanna get her in bed today, so don’t ruin this one for me. All respect given. Alright?”
A small whimper of affirmation.
“Attaboy.” Dean gave Miracle a quick scratch behind the ear before straightening up.
“C’mon, mom, tell us what happened to the cool guy!” Sam insisted, which had Dean raising an eyebrow at you in question. Cool guy? Who, what, when, where, how, why?
“Yeah, the one that stole your heart and put rainbows in your eyes!” Charlie added, making a heart with her tiny hands.
Dean smirked, leaning against the counter by his hip. “Oh? Who stole your heart and put rainbows in your eyes, honey? Do tell.”
“First of all, I did not say that.” You chuckled, raising a finger.
“You don’t have to. It’s all here.” Charlie pointed to her own eyes with an intense stare at her finger and a cute pout. It almost had you melting. “But tell us!”
“Oh, fine.” You rolled your eyes playfully with a laugh, then took Dean’s hand and kissed the battle-scarred knuckle.
The gesture making Dean internally melt and externally making his eyes fill up with hearts and his lips twitch into a warm smile.
“I married him.” You said softly, your eyes mirroring the same look.
“Damn right.” He chuckled, leaning forward and meeting your lips in a sweet, slow kiss. Free from the stress of an Apocalypse or a battle. That tasted like coffee and toothpaste rather than beer or whiskey and had no rush. His hand cradling your cheek while yours gently cupped the back of his head. Breathing in his body wash that wasn’t low grade anymore. You still had the unlimited credit cards, so you had more time for things like these. The little things.
You became absorbed in everything Dean, the kiss not as passionate as when he’d dipped you and took your breath away in front of a crowd of hunters on your wedding day but still had the same meaning. The whispers of the vows you two had choked out through tears. He became absorbed in you, in the sweet taste of a croissant on your tongue and your floral scent dizzying and overwhelming his senses in a good way. It was you he was feeling. It felt like you, so real, so safe. It felt like home.
“Ewwww!” You were interrupted by Sam and Charlie, and you broke apart, foreheads pressing together with a soft laugh coming from the both of you.
His hand on your waist, yours carding through his hair. Comfort, assurance, something you both had been deprived of for fifteen straight years. You wouldn’t let being Mrs Winchester go. Not now, not ever.
Mrs Winchester. Never got old.
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I’d appreciate a like, comment and/or reblog! Make sure to do this for all your favourite writers so they get inspiration!
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@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester
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writersdrug · 5 months
Text
Thinking about Simon with a goth! gf, and introducing his team to you.
Warnings: cursing, very slight nsfw, pda
Typed this up on my lunch break, not thoroughly proofread, ending is meh but it's been rotting in my brain so I had to push it out. Feel free to send me asks about this headcannon, I'd love to write more about it! <3
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Simon insists on dragging his team to the nearest pub after a particularly rough day, offering to buy then a round of whiskey. They are all reluctant at first, complaining about aching backs and heads, and Price saying that the missus was expecting him.
Then Simon mumbles something about how his girl would've loved to meet them.
"Yer wha' now?"
"My girl."
Suddenly, Gaz's headache is gone. "Must've just been dehydrated, I suppose." Soap's back feels much better, after being able to sit in the car for just- five minutes, now. And Price? Apparently, the missus was at a dinner raffle for her charity- thing, and he'd just now remembered.
So, drinks and a quick bite at the pub you worked at. It was settled.
Simon leads them in shortly after parking the truck. The other three quickly scan the room for anyone who stands out. As Simon brings them to a booth in the back, they all take a seat, heads on a swivel for some pretty thing to come bouncing over and latch herself onto him.
"Gonna hit the head." Simon says. "I'll put our drinks in- she'll bring 'em over, she'll be done with 'er shift soon."
As he leaves, Soap, Gaz, and Price all sit there in a few moments of observatory silence. It's much harder to sample the crowd, they realize, since there's apparently no dress code for the servers. Johnny eyes each person like a hawk, until he sees a potential pick.
"Tha' one." He says, nodding towards a busty, long-legged blonde. Price and Gaz follow his line of sight to her as she leans against the bar, playing with her hair and laughing at something her friend says. Her bootcut jeans and frilly top accentuate her curves, and it's obvious that every man in her vicinity is ogling. "Twenty on 'er. Seems like he'd be into swimsuit models, eh?"
Gaz humms, scrunching his nose disapprovingly. "Nah, mate- too simple."
"Feck is simple 'bout 'er?"
"I mean for Simon." Gaz corrects Soap. "Don't think he'd want someone so... ditzy- no offense to her." He adds. "I think he wants a girl who can hold her own, in the physical and the figurative sense. Someone..." he narrows his eyes, searching through the crowd of people. "Like her."
He discretely points to a woman across the bar. She's playing darts with a few people, and hits the bullseye perfectly just as Soap and Price look her way. Her tank top and cargo pants show how defined, yet lean her muscles are. She looks like she could last a few decent minutes in a brawl. "I bet on her."
"Well I'll raise ye forty - I ken LT wants someone more... passive."
"Forty it is, then. I'd love to have you pay my bill tonight."
"If I may..." Price chimes in, leaning against the back of the booth with a smug look, arms folded over his chest, "I'd love to get in on this little game o' yours, and walk away with eighty pounds t'night - because you're both wrong."
Soap smirks. "And how's tha', Cap?"
Price smooths his fingers over his mutton chops. "Well, for starters, I'm a bit ashamed o' you boys. Neither of those girls actually work here, do they? Mm?"
Gaz groans, letting his head drop against the wall behind him. It takes Soap another moment, but then he remembers Simon saying this was where you worked. The whole point of them going to this specific pub was because you'd already be here, on the clock.
"Shite..." he mumbles.
"Alright, sir." Gaz says defeatedly. "Lay it on us."
Price leans his elbows on the table and points his finger straight ahead; Gaz and Soap both follow it to the bar, where a sweet-looking girl is punching orders into a server tablet. She has long, silky, red hair, and a petite frame. She smiles so kindly at every patron who speaks to her, and when she makes their drinks, she is quick with it, still engaging in conversation as she shakes the mixer with a powerful arm. Despite the crowd, she seems to be managing fine on her own.
"Her." Price says, tucking his hand back onto the table. "Y' see that face? The way she talks to 'em all? How she's soft and tough at the same time? Imagine that birdie tucked under his wing, eh?"
Soap and Gaz can imagine it. She's a cute little thing, a social butterfly, it seems - the perfect polar opposite to Simon that just might be the perfect fit.
"And I know he's got a thing for redheads." Price adds.
"Piss off, how d'ye ken tha'?" Soap grumbles.
Price shrugs. "Call it intuition."
Simon comes around the corner, carrying several glasses of neat whiskey. "Sorry-" he says, setting a glass in front of Price, and handing out the others as he sits down on the end of the booth. "She's on 'er way now."
"No worries." Price says, trying to hide his smirk. "Didn't know y' were into redheads, Simon."
Simon pauses, looking down at the table in confusion - then he chuckles. "Yeah, s'pose I am. How did y' know? Did she come by already?"
Price laughs. "No, son. We were just sayin'-"
"Hey baby!"
You turn the corner and lean down, squealing as you throw your arms around Simon's neck and kiss him. The other three look on with shock, and Soap is about ready to throw this random woman off of Simon, until he holds you just as tightly and kisses you back.
Price's smirk falls right onto the table when he realizes that he is just as wrong as the other two.
You're Simon's bird. Simon's raven. Black, styled hair, with black lipstick that is currently smudging Simon's chin. You have a choker - no, several chokers, wrapped around your neck, as well as a tiny corked bottle filled with red liquid that makes Soap and Gaz nervous, dangling from a chain. Long, black-painted fingernails, with small spiderwebs decorating the tips, caressing his face and the back of his neck. Your arms and legs are covered with torn fishnets and small tattoos, and you're wearing a black number with a corset, paired with studded Doc Martin's.
You finally pull away and look at the rest of them. "Sorry- nice to finally meet the lot of you." You say, shaking each one of their hands. Your eyes are striking, with full, dark lashes, eyeliner, and red contacts. Gages and a bull ring, too. Soap feels a shiver run up his spine when he looks at you head on, and Gaz hasn't picked his jaw up off the floor since you came around.
"Erm-" Price clears his throat, "pardon us- call me John. This is Kyle, and Johnny." He gestures to the other two, still watching you with a mix of curiosity and awe.
"I've heard so much about you. It's good to put names to the face." You say with a smile, shaking the other two's hands. Gaz manages to smile a bit, but Soap has the same shocked expression plastered onto his face.
Simon has a love-drunk, black-smudged smile on his lips as you sit down in his lap. "She's been wantin' t' meet you all for a while, now. Sorry I kept 'er a secret."
"To be fair, I'm usually hard to find." You say, grabbing a napkin and wiping the lipstick off Simon's face. "I'm either here, at class, or roaming around and people-watching... at night, of course. People are more interesting when it's dark out." You traced a fingernail along his jugular as he stared up at you.
"John 'ere knew you were a redhead."
"How?! Oh my god- are my roots showing?"
"Nah, luvie, he's just observant. 'S our job." Simon places a kiss to your forehead. You smiled, leaning into the kiss.
"Oh, kitchen's about to close. You wanna split a burger, Si?"
"Sure, get what you like."
"'S no onions ok?"
"Fine w' me - chips?"
"You know it." You giggle, making a show of squishing his cheek and biting it. You turn to the rest of his team with a smile. "You boys hungry?"
Price is the first one to speak, taking a heavy breath in, causing Soap and Gaz to finally snap out of their trance. "Erm- whatever you get, we'll do the same. On us tonight."
"Oooh, you sure?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. Simon looked at Price curiously.
"You positive, cap?"
Price nodded. "Lost a bet."
Simon looks even more concerned. You pat his shoulder and stand up. "I'll go punch it in, be right back." You give him a peck on the cheek, and begin to walk away - Simon's attention returns to you as he hooks a finger in the chain choker around your neck and tugs you back.
Soap, Gaz, and Price all watch, stupefied, as you land back in Simon's lap with a giggle. He grabs your chin between his thick fingers and kisses you on the lips, shamelessly letting his tongue slide past your teeth and squeezing your thigh. You laugh into the kiss, letting him devour you for a moment, before tapping his cheek and breaking away.
"I got fifteen minutes to put everyone's order in, Si."
"That's plenty of time, dove."
"Yeah, but then kitchen will get mad for doing it last minute, and I don't want-"
He chuckles, gently shoving out off of his lap and smacking your rump through your skirt. "You're fine, go on."
You smile, then disappear behind the booth, boots thudding against the hardwood floors.
Simon looks back at the three of them - Soap is staring between you and him, a blush covering his face. Gaz immediately turns to look at the wall, scratching his chin, and Price is gazing into his whiskey, though there's a lingering surprise in his eyes.
"So- what bet?" Simon asks, adjusting his hips; Soap notices his hand reaching down to palm at the fabric over his groin. "I don' remember bettin' nothin'."
"We weren't bettin' on ye pullin' her out ye pockets, LT." Soap comments, trying to avoid Simon's eyes. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out forty pounds, slapping it onto the table.
"It makes sense..." Gaz, chimes in. "With your whole skeleton look, she fits you."
Simon slowly smiles, understanding what they had bet on. "Oh... I see. Lemme guess - you thought I's with someone more... simple? Lile that blonde at the bar, is tha' right?"
"Tha's what I said!!" Soap exclaims, dropping his fist to the table. "You got te give me credit fer pointin' t' a swimsuit model first, aye?"
"Oh- because every bloke on earth is shallow enough to care about swimsuit models." Gaz scoffs. "I at least picked someone who didn't look so bloody helpless." He gestures to the girl playing darts with her friends. "You don't even know if the other girl's a model."
"Well, one can imagine..."
"Feel as though I's the closest..." Price mutters under his breath, making the other two glare at him.
"Ye were not."
"Get off your high horse, cap-"
"Well- try this." Simon leans on his forearms with a smug look on his face. "My bird? She's a model, and she's a black-belt in Judo, and-" he looks at Price- "she's a natural redhead."
They all look between Simon and you, as you stand behind the bar and punch their orders in, laughing with the other redhead. Their eyes would drop onto the table if they were any wider.
"You sly dog-" Gas comments with a chuckle.
"I don' believe ye." Soap says, crossing his arms. "Wha' kind o' model?"
"Lingerie."
Price chokes on his whiskey.
"Bullshit." Soap snaps. "Pictures or ye lyin'."
"Nah." Simon sighs, leaning back in his seat and daking a sip of his whiskey. "Not the ones I have, at least. But pick up the last "Bloodletting" magazine, and she's there."
They all sit there, a bit dumbfounded, watching you walk back to the booth. How on earth did someone like Simon land someone like you?
Simon's full of surprises, even in his personal life.
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januaryembrs · 4 months
Note
tea!! anything bugsy and spencer
the one with the surfboard | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader
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description: there's only one person who could ever get Spencer Reid in the ocean and that's Bugsy
length: 1.6k
warnings: mention of sex, swearing, Penelope and Reid being thirsty for Morgan and bugsy. Pen calls Derek chocolate thunder but this is nothing new! set at beginning of season six.
part of the trouble almost all my life universe
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Spencer settled his feet into the warm sand, trying his hardest to make sure the grain didn’t stick to the thick layer of suncream he’d applied not even five minute earlier, his sunglasses hanging on his nose as he watched Morgan and Bugsy hit a ball to one another over an invisible volleyball net. 
“You not going to take a swim, pretty boy?” Emily asked, basking on her back in a red bikini, soaking up the sun they rarely got so clearly stuck in their office. His face scrunched up, shaking his head until he remembered Emily had her eyes closed, and it only took one look at where JJ was laying incredibly still to know she’d already dozed off on the sun lounger. 
“One litre of ocean water has about one billion microbes of bacteria and around ten billion viruses, so,” He shuddered, his lithe fingers gripping the arms of the chair as he tried not to think about every single one of them entering his mouth if he were to even get close enough it could spray on his face, “No thankyou,” 
“Not even if Bugsy asked you?” Penelope pointed out, a sex on the beach she’d ordered with a giggle and a ‘if Morgan gets lucky.’
His lips twitched, feeling his neck grow hot in a way he told himself was just the sun, and he glanced at the technical analyst with something fleeting, “She did ask me, I told her the exact same thing I’m telling you guys,”
“And?” Emily asked, sensing that hadn’t been the end of the conversation because her sister knew exactly how to get her way when it came to men, Spencer specifically. 
Rubbing under his nose with his knuckle, Spencer downcast his eyes to the beer Bug had handed him, sand sticking to the green, frosted glass as the liquid bubbled freshly inside the bottle, “She said I owed her an hour of fun,”
Penelope’s face lit up at the innuendo of it, nudging him lightly with her shoulder, “Hell yeah, you’re such a stud, Reid. An hour?” 
Emily winced in grotesque, “That’s my sister you’re talking about there, Pen. A sister is very much present here,” 
The blonde shrugged, sipping through her pineapple decorated straw, “Not my fault you have a hot sister, Prentiss,” 
“Can we stop talking about this? Please?” Spencer floundered, his fingers wrapping over the edge of the seat, his jaw tensing as the words hot, hot, hot, smeared all over his brain like a stamp. And everything he’d tried to deny for months bit at his neck so much so he was quickly fiddling with his shirt collar. 
“Agreed,” Emily seconded, taking a long drink of her mojito, and Penelope saw it as a chance to lean in close to him, a smirk on her clementine scented lips.
“Don’t you think watching the two of them play together is like something out of Baywatch,” She murmured, her eyes locking on the two agents that seemed to be on their longest streak yet judging by all the laughing and shouting going on in between hits. 
Spencer had never tuned into Baywatch, nor did he have any intention of doing so. But he did have to admit that watching Bugsy jump around in the ocean, her hair clasped back in a claw clip away from her face, her skin practically glowing from the vitamin D both on her face and on her obscenely beautiful body that was free to see in those bikini shorts and mini top, was more captivating than any tv show he could imagine.
He swallowed, shaking his head, “I think you spend too much time with Derek,”
Penelope held her chest in mock offence, her glass empty in her hand as she looked at him with teasing eyes, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that, Reid. There’s no such thing as too much chocolate thunder time.” 
Spencer smirked, chuckling to himself and he barely even noticed the two people that were the hot topic of conversation had left the sea until a plastic, bouncy ball went hurtling at Emily’s forehead and rebounded clear off her hairline. 
“FUCK,” The woman cursed, opening her eyes where a few rogue droplets of sea water dribbled down her cheek, her peace and serenity completely wiped away where her little sister stood with a hidden smirk, Derek biting his knuckle to hide his laugh, “You fucker, what was that for?”
“Just making sure you hadn’t cooked alive, you looked very still,” Bugsy held her hands up in innocence, even though Emily stood with a vengeance, rolling her eyes at the cheeky grin she got back. 
Emily muttered something about her being a childish shrew, before she huffed, shoving past her sister and heading towards the beachfront bar, Derek and Penelope in tow. Which left the two of them, and a sleeping JJ, on their tiny corner of the beach. 
“You sure you don’t want to come in?” Bugsy asked, trails of salt water sliding off her hair and down her stomach, the sight of them making Spencer’s mouth dryer than the sand beneath them, “I saw a jellyfish, or at least I think it was, it may have been a condom,” Spencer gagged inside his mouth with an incredulous look on his face, and she chuckled, dropping the ball to his feet, “Relax, I’m kidding. I’m going back in if you want to join, promise I won’t splash you or nothing,” 
“I’m good, you go have fun with your new pal; the condom,” He said with a grossed out pull of his lips, though he smiled when she did and she grabbed the surfboard stuck in the ground beside him, trotting off back towards the ocean, “Remember to reapply soon!” He called, and she flicked a look over her shoulder.
“You're as bad as Emily,” She yelled back, taking off towards the waves with a chuckle, the sea breeze blowing tiny shrapnels of sand against her calves.
Spencer shamefully felt his eyes drop to her butt, and as fast as he did, he looked away, because that was supposed to be his best friend. She’d certainly never made it seem like they were going to be anything else. Perverts watched pretty girls running, perverts watched how their skin lit up with the rays of lights bouncing off the water and their hips swung with every step, and he wasn’t a pervert. 
He was just… human. And who could ever resist her. 
He watched the sea spraying out beneath her feet as she ran right in, and she waded out deep enough that he lost sight of her stomach, the board skirting the surface of the water for a moment. 
She was possibly the coolest person he’d ever met, and she was his best friend. 
He watched her hop up onto her stomach, keeping an eye on the horizon for a big enough wave rolling in. Deciding on an incoming ripple gradually gaining traction, she paddled out towards it, her arms strong and focused from what he could see where he was sat, nursing his bottle of beer. 
“Baby Prentiss got moves,” Morgan whistled as they returned back with drinks cold enough Spencer saw the condensation gathering on the glass already, though that was the only time he actually tore his eyes away from her as she got further away from the safety of land, the black band attaching her ankle to the board the only thing he could really see of her. 
“She talked some bar boy into teaching her the Summer she spent in Mexico with my mom,” Emily shook her head as they watched her jump up into a steady stand, the rip gathering under her surfboard and soon she was floating over the water, the concentration evident on her face as she held her arms out to balance. 
She went a few more times, the group settling into the quiet they had whenever she was busy, because she was not exactly known for her calm nature, yet Spencer’s eyes were the only ones glued to her figure the entire time, ever the worrier when it came to her daredevil side. 
And it was like he was watching it in slow motion; on her fifth turn riding a particularly quick rip her balance got thrown off. Nothing serious, it was only a few ten yards out offshore, and she was a strong swimmer, he’d seen it. She quickly lowered herself back into a straddled sit, only for the wave to gain traction before it fizzled out, crashing into the side of her board right as she was about to take a breath, and he watched her flip sidewards into the water, the tide bringing her close enough he knew she’d be able to stand.
But she didn’t come up for a few moments, and it was enough that Spencer was out of his seat, taking off jogging towards the ocean, every statistic that had been whizzing through that big brain of his about how filthy the water was suddenly evaporating as he watched her throw a hand up to the surface, her board skirting above her being the only pointer for him where to go. 
By the time he made it over to her, he was knee deep before he thought of the consequences, the cold hitting him like a freight train, and she was already dragging herself towards land on her hands and knees, her hair stuck to her face, her claw clip ripped out by the current.
“Are you okay?” He asked, but she didn’t respond, only to cough up sea water with a screwed up expression that told him just how horrible it tasted. 
“I need a beer,” She wheezed, as he lifted his hands under her arms, tugging her to her feet, his entire torso getting drenched as she clung onto him for safety, still spluttering ocean out of her lungs. 
And he shook his head with a smile, brushing her hair back enough for her to see, her eyes sore and red with angry blood vessels where he imagined it stung to get the salty water in them, and all but dragged her back up the rest of the beach where Derek and Emily were laughing at her fail so hard they’d woken JJ up. 
“Yasmine Bleeth never ate seawater, Bug, what happened?” Morgan jeered, earning him a middle finger to the face as Penelope offered her a nice big gulp of a margarita to clear her taste buds. 
And for the first time all day, Spencer wasn’t even thinking about how much bacteria was all over his skin if it meant she was alright.
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rememberwren · 4 months
Text
/•Harmless Fun 2•\
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts
You find out the walls are thin in your new apartment.
Roommate!ghoap/fem!reader
*
It’s the hottest day of the month when you move in. If you use that as an excuse to wear your shortest pair of shorts, that’s all it is—an excuse, flimsy as the floaty, sleeveless, polyester top that skims your navel. Even dressed light, the sweat drips down the small of your back and slicks your palms as you work on moving boxes into the elevator and up to the top floor. Every step inside is a blessing, the air conditioning bursting over you, sweet icy bliss.
Johnny opens the door. He’s wearing a tee shirt stretched thin across his chest and a pair of loose cotton pants. He leans against the doorway, reminiscent to how he had the day he showed you the apartment. You had thought he was showing off then, but now you think that maybe it eases the weight off his leg.
“Well, what a bonnie sight you are. Here, let me.” He tries to take the box from you.
“No, I’ve got it—“
“I insist—“
“Really—“
“Lass, I will hit you with my cane—“
You gape at the threat. The box comes loose from your hands and he tucks it easily under one arm, giving you a smug raise of his brows. “I’m disabled, but I’ll have to be dead before I let a pretty girl carry her own furniture.”
“Consider yourself iced,” Simon says, appearing as if from thin air. His arms are bared by his tank top revealing one impressive sleeve of tattoos—as if he wasn’t painfully attractive enough to begin with. Down below his chin is a black surgical mask, ready to be tugged over his mouth and nose out in public. “No moving furniture, Soap.”
“You’re worse than those nurses at the clinic,” Johnny chides, picking up the freshest step of what must be a long, frustrating dance between them both. “I know my own limits better than anyone, don’t I?”
“Wrong,” Simon chuckles darkly. He takes a step closer to Johnny and puts a hand on the nape of his neck, calloused thumb moving along the smooth muscle of his trapezius. He stage whispers: “I know you better than you know yourself, Johnny-boy.”
He takes the box from Johnny’s lax hands. Both of you stare after his figure as Simon turns to walk the box to what will be your bedroom from now on. Judging by the heavy, heated look in Johnny’s eye, you aren’t the only one affected by Simon’s display.
“Did he…call you Soap?”
#
“It was his callsign in the military,” Simon explains, patiently waiting for you to find the perfect grip on a box of your toiletries. He has three boxes—of your book collection no less—stacked in his arms with all the ease of Jenga pieces. But you know these won’t come tumbling down. Heaving the box into your arms, you shift it to your hip and wipe the hair from your forehead.
“What’s a callsign?”
“A simple identifier that can be used over radio or transmitter. Safer sometimes than using names.”
“What was your callsign?”
“Ghost.”
“Ghost.” You roll the name around on your tongue as you both walk into the building, the doorman politely holding the door open for you both. You glance at Simon out of the corner of your eye, the mask drawn up to hide his identity. “You know—yours makes a little sense. But Soap?”
The corner of Simon’s eyes crinkle. “You’ll have to ask him about it. He loves to talk about himself.”
With Simon’s help, you are able to empty the moving truck by early evening, just in time to enjoy the coldest shower of your life (the first of many in your new apartment, you’re sure). The water pressure is excellent, beating down on your flushed skin until your teeth chatter and you turn the temperature to something less punishing.
By the time you walk into the living room, convinced you’ll have to make a run for groceries of your own (or just Door Dash something—but fuck if that wasn’t an allowance in your joyless budget), the smell of pizza reaches your nose.
Johnny and Simon are on the loveseat, an open pie on the coffee table in front of them. There are a few toppings you’d have to pick off, but nothing that wasn’t salvageable. Simon is freshly showered as well, hair a shade darker blond than usual, the ends curling just a bit.
“First dinner in the new place, on us,” Johnny explains, passing you a slice. He scoots over—clearly expecting you to take the narrow spot between him and Simon, though that’s the last place you would have thought to seat yourself.
“Thank you,” you say, touched. Simon slips off of the couch, giving you plenty of room. Your heart plummets for a moment—except he’s only gone to grab you a beer. But even after cracking it open with his bare hands for you, he sits in the armchair closest to Johnny and leaves the couch for you both. Sheepish, you say: “Sorry I stole your spot.”
“You didn’t,” he says quietly, sipping from his own bottle. Then he hesitates and reaches out, stretching one long arm to clink bottles with you and Johnny. He mutters, not unkindly: “Cheers.”
#
That night, you can’t sleep. The first night in a new place is always strange. You had hoped that the physical exertion of the day would tire you out, but your brain felt wired, eyes floating around the room to take in the new space and commit it to memory. You’re still awake when you hear the quiet hum of the television shut off in the living room. You hear quiet voices—a door open and shut. A shower runs for a while.
If today was any indication, you truly had high hopes that you would get along well with Simon and Johnny. Perhaps you could even grow to be friends and not just roommates. And maybe eventually you wouldn’t be thirsting after them like a dog—
—a sound on the other side of the wall, the one separating your bedroom from theirs. Your breath catches. Surely you had misheard. But then it comes again: a throaty, masculine groan. Immediately you flush hot all over, rolling onto your belly and burying your face in your pillow. Surely they aren’t—?
There’s a rumble of voices, just loud enough for you to make out Johnny’s name, and it is answered by a filthy, breathy moan. They are. Holy shit. Your hot roommates are having sex in the next room.
Your cunt aches, glaringly empty. You’re not going to do anything about it. That would be insane, wouldn’t it? To touch yourself while your neighbors fucked on the other side of the wall? But God, your body had no sense of morals, not even a daydream of right or wrong. Your nipples had hardened into aching points begging for the dextrous touch of a lover, your entire sex throbbing and flushed. Perhaps you should grab your earbuds and give them some privacy, but instead you find yourself holding your breath, desperate for the next noise.
What exactly are they doing, you wonder? You find it hard to even imagine the two of them kissing, though Simon had leaned in and placed a peck on Johnny’s lips before going downstairs to help you with your furniture. You’d never had a very good imagination. But judging by the sound of skin on skin from the next room, they are doing far more than kissing, and the thought has you clenching your thighs together.
You have no way of knowing how long it lasts. It’s like a fever dream, your head hot and floaty whenever one of Johnny’s moans is answered by Simon’s deep, throaty chuckles. There comes a strangled shout, hastily bitten off (or covered, perhaps by a hand or smothered by a lover’s mouth) and you have to bury your face in your pillow all over again in case any stray, desperate noises come floating out of you, too.
Now you’re free, one hand cupping your own breast through the flimsy tank top you sleep in and the other slipping into your panties. The angle is all wrong thanks to you being on your belly, but there’s no penetration needed tonight, not when a few wet swipes over your aching clit has you climbing that blissful peak and shattering into pieces, all your breathy sounds lost to your pillow.
Rolling onto your back, you suck in air, panting into the darkness. You whisper: “Fuck.”
You’re so screwed, though not nearly screwed as you would like to be.
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