#anybody who spends a lot of time together has it i think

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | halloween is that special night where you can be anything you want to be... maybe more than the labels everyone else gives you. maybe even more than 'just friends'. (aka, reader has a reputation, eddie's still a virgin, filth ensues)

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 5.6k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only, of course), virginity loss, best friends to lovers, slight angst (mostly just hurt/comfort), unprotected sex, creampie, degradation kink (but like, in a loving way?), rough filthy fucknasty sex for no reason at all except that I'm a whore, L-bomb, reader is a candy corn hater (this was hard for me guys ngl), all men being trash except eddie (so, you know, real life)

“God, I can’t stand these,” you grimaced as you shoved the baggies of candy corn towards him.

“More for meee!” Eddie sang happily as he scooped them all up, cackling to himself as he filled his arms.  He looked especially in character as a pirate in that moment, treating the candy like his treasure.  His costume had actually come together better than you expected: the tight leather pants and boots looked less rocker and more sailor when paired with the flowy white shirt and black eyepatch.

"Will you trade your Sour Patch Kids for my candy cigarettes?" you asked him, getting an incredulous scoff in return.  

"No way," he shook his head, "I don't need candy ones, got a couple packs of the real kind in my room."

You frowned.  "Guess the candy economy changed since we were kids, huh?"

He looked up at you, a tender look in his eyes as he smiled.  "Yeah…" he trailed off.

"I'm surprised anybody gave a couple of giant seniors candy for trick-or-treating," you smirked.  "I guess that's the benefit of 'chaperoning' your Hellfire friends."

"Exactly," he beamed.  "And hey, maybe we're a little old for it, but you make for a lovely princess."

You batted your eyelashes playfully, tilting your head with the tiara pinned on top.  "Who, me?  I'm just dressed as a good excuse to repurpose an old homecoming gown."

He laughed, but then seemed to get a bit more serious then (but still happy).  "I'm glad we could do this," he decided.  "Like old times."

"We always spend Halloween together," you reminded him.

"Yeah— I mean this." He motioned to the dumped-out pails of candy on the trailer floor, and you nodded.  "And not just 'cause of the sugar rush."

You smiled softly at him, tilting your head.  "Of course, Eddie."

"Kinda thought you were gonna ditch me this year," he added suddenly, looking down into his lap at the candy he was unwrapping.  "You know… 'cause of that guy."

"Oh, yeah," you sighed, "well… that's over."

Eddie looked up again, his eyes seeming bigger than ever.  "Really?"

"Don't sound so excited," you rolled your eyes, but the sarcasm wasn't enough to hide your heartbreak.

"No— hey, I'm sorry," he offered, scooting closer to you on the floor.  "I know you liked him a lot.  But I know you know I thought he was a total loser."

You shot him a look with a raised brow.  He shrugged.

"Takes one to know one."

"You're not a loser, Eddie," you sighed sympathetically.  "And you were right about him— obviously.  I knew you were, I just… I dunno, I guess I thought I could change him?"

Eddie smirked.  "When has that ever worked?"

"For me?  Never," you scoffed.  "I think guys do change, for the right girl.  And it's just never me."

"That's not fair," he frowned, "it's not your fault that these guys are garbage.  Well— I mean, it's sorta your fault that you keep hooking up with guys that are garbage—"

You slapped him on the arm lightly, and he laughed.

"Am I wrong?" he wondered.

You slumped your shoulders a bit.  "No… but still.  Don't be so mean, I'm moping over here."

"Aw, sweetheart," he pouted, sliding closer again and wrapping his arms around you.  You sighed as you rested your head on his shoulder, shutting your eyes.  Honestly, you were trying not to cry.  Over a guy.  You told yourself you weren't going to do that anymore.  Actually, you told Eddie that you wouldn't do that anymore, after you cried over Tommy Pearson.  And sure, you cried over James Neher since then, but he didn't call you out for it… that showed how messed up you really were over it, that he didn't poke fun at you for it.  Almost nothing was too far with you two, you made fun of him for being a trailer park flunk-out just as much as he poked fun at your… storied dating history.

The one thing you didn't make fun of Eddie for (that much, at least) was his lack of dating history.  As of yet, Eddie was actually still a virgin.

Uh, mostly a virgin… he got a blowjob once after a Corroded Coffin show, and called you first thing after to tell you giddily about how it went.  He was heartbroken, too, when she never called, but he didn't cry— he just started dodging your questions about it until finally fessing up that she totally disappeared.  So you put on one of his favorite movies (The Evil Dead) and wrapped him up in a blanket, and he was over it in a night.

That was a couple months ago, though, and Eddie had had no luck since with losing the remaining half of his virginity.  You hadn't had any trouble finding guys, just in finding those special (potentially imaginary) ones that don't disappear after you put out.

The conversation drifted back to candy and the next Hellfire campaign before it looped back around to relationships again.  It started because of a debate about if gum counted as candy, actually.

"Maybe, like, Juicy Fruit counts," Eddie decided.  "But definitely not just any old spearmint stick."

"I thought you liked spearmint gum!"

"Yeah, but it's not candy!  I like a lot of things that aren't candy!"

You huffed.  "So you're not gonna give me anything for the sticks of Trident?"

"Best I can do is… one Tootsie Roll," he decided, tossing the pathetic little taffy at you as you scoffed.

"Don't insult me," you grimaced as you tossed it back, "I don't want your individually-wrapped waxy chocolate byproduct."

"I'll be honest, I didn't really understand that," he frowned, "but I can tell it was an insult to my beloved Tootsie Rolls."

"They taste like eating a chocolate scented candle!" you announced.

He gasped dramatically and held one of his larger Tootsie Rolls up to his chest, like he was protecting it from your words.  "That's not true, baby," he whispered to the candy, petting it tenderly, "she didn't mean that…"

You laughed at the bizarre display.  "God, you're such a freak," you reminded him.

"And you're a slut," he returned with a wide smile and a tilt of his head.

That was your thing, you'd always say that back to each other, like a nickname.  You started it to try to take the power away from the names everyone else called you two, and it worked: it didn't hurt nearly as much getting called a slut when you could remember the way Eddie said it like a term of endearment.  And he said it was the same for him, even though he pretended like he'd never been bothered by his label.  He did have it worse though… he was the freak, you were just a slut.  

"If you don't want the Roll then I guess I'm getting that gum for free," Eddie decided, about to reach for it, but you smacked his hand away.

"No way," you frowned.

"Are you gonna chew it?" he assumed.

"Never," you decided, "but I can find someone who wants it."

"Why won't you chew it yourself?  Still turned off to all gum by that Fred guy?"

"It was Frank," you corrected, "and yeah, he never stopped chewing that stupid Extra.  Even during…"

"Guess he needed a little Extra help in bed," Eddie snorted.

"The sex wasn't that bad, actually," you recalled, "it just… smelled a little too minty fresh."

"Does it normally smell like something else?" he asked.

Your face got a little warm.  "Uh… yeah, kinda."

Eddie wrinkled his brow slightly.  You thought that was the end of it, after a long pause, and you were just about to change the subject when he broke the silence.  "What's it like?"

"The smell?!"

"No, no!  The sex.  What does it feel like?" he asked hesitantly, flipping up his eye patch to look at you properly.

"Well, I dunno— it's hard to describe."

"Everyone says that," he frowned.

"And it would feel different for you anyways," you added.

He nodded.  "Right."

"One guy said that I felt like a warm bath, but like, only on his cock," you remembered, almost laughing at the memory.  It was a weird thing to say, especially in the middle of sex.

Eddie choked.  "O-oh…"

"What?" you tilted your head, confused by his reaction.

"I just— um, I was trying to figure out how it feels in general… I never even… I never thought about how you feel…"

Your face heated up a bit.

"Does every girl feel different?" he realized, leaning in a little closer to listen to your reply.

"That's what I've heard," you shrugged.  "Every guy feels different."

"Different how?  Like, bigger or smaller?"

"Not just that— sometimes you can feel, like, the head and stuff…" you explained, continuing when Eddie looked a little confused, "like, if the head is really big you can feel the edge of it.  Or if he's uncut you can sorta feel that too, in the way he strokes.  And then there's how curved it is…"

Eddie's stare was a little glassy.  "You can feel all that?  Just with your pussy?"

You nodded.

"That's…" he trailed off, clearing his throat.  "Yeah.  Cool."

The way he was clearly flustered by all this made your hips shift against the floor for a second.  You and Eddie had obviously had pretty raunchy conversations before (see the aforementioned post-BJ phone call) and sure, sometimes they kinda turned you on… but this one felt a little different.  Usually if you felt that feeling while talking to him about something it was because you were remembering something you'd done before; this was the first time you were actually imagining something.  Something, specifically, happening with you and Eddie.

"You know…" you started before shaking your head and scoffing.  "Nevermind.  Too weird."

"What?  Nothing's too weird with me," he grinned— one of his teeth was drawn out in black for the costume, and he looked pretty silly.

"I was just… I dunno," you shrugged.  "If I tell you, you won't be, like, offended, right?"

"Well, I guess it depends on how offensive it is."

You sighed.  "Just don't judge me, okay?"

"Never."

"I was thinking, if you wanted, you could… try it out.  With me."

He froze.  "Try… sex?"

He'd dropped his head lower between his shoulders as he said the last word.  You nodded briefly.  "Yeah."

You couldn't even begin to describe the look on his face.  "Well, that's… not offensive."

Already you felt ridiculous, and you shook your head as you started to backtrack.  "I'm sorry if that was a really weird idea, I'm not trying to—"

"No, no!  It's okay," he assured, reaching out towards you for a second but not actually touching you.  "I just… didn't think you would say that. Um. Yeah. So, we would just, like, do it?"

"If you want to."

"I mean, not that you're not— you're gorgeous," he promised, talking over himself, "you know I think so.  But you're my best friend.  Wait— no.  You're gorgeous and you're my best friend.  It won't make stuff weird with us, right?"

You raised an eyebrow.  "Are you gonna make it weird?"

"No more than usual," he smirked.

"Then, no. It wouldn't be weird.  It would just be, like, a friend helping a friend out," you decided, "like how I hadn't tried LSD 'til I met you.  You can try this, with me."

"Yeah, but," he lowered his voice, scooching a little closer, "this is different.  I gave you drugs but you… you're the drug.  It's your body, and you're giving it to me."

You fought the urge to bite your lip.  "Yeah," you agreed, "I don't mind.  Just use me for a bit."

Eddie's throat bobbed as he swallowed, mouth falling open for a second.  "Use you?" he repeated.  "God, why is that hot?"

"'Cause guys are always into that— they wanna feel powerful or whatever," you explained with a snort of a laugh.  "Wanna feel like they're conquering something."

"Heh," he laughed nervously as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, "are we all so predictable?"

You smiled at him, leaning closer slightly and tilting your head down to look up at him through your lashes.  "I dunno," you teased, "but I'm predicting you're gonna take me up on this."

"Fuck yeah I am," he decided, grabbing your face to pull you closer— but then suddenly stopping.  "Fuck, wait, can I kiss you?"

You blinked quickly.  "Um, yeah," you decided.

For all that bravado before, he hesitated before he did kiss you… and it was actually pretty sweet, and gentle, and way too short.  Yes, it did feel sort of weird knowing you were kissing Eddie, your best friend since 4th grade, but not a bad kind of weird, necessarily.

He was smiling at you already when he pulled back.  "You know you don't have to do all that, right?" you reminded him.

"I-I know.  I'd feel weird about it if I didn't kiss you first, though," he explained.  "And, you know.  Kissing is nice.  Friends can kiss."

"Yeah," you laughed.

"We can, uh, go to the bedroom," he offered.  "Not that it wouldn't be fun to do it on the floor surrounded by our candy quarry— just, uh, not how I pictured my first time."

"Well, either way," you replied as you both stood up, following him across the trailer to the bedroom, "it's not who you pictured your first time with."

"Yeah, well, Joan Jett was busy tonight," he laughed, and you laughed with him, falling onto the bed together with a sigh.  You'd done that a lot before— but sitting up on your side, facing him, starting to touch his chest delicately through his shirt… that was new.

"Do you want me to ride you, or—?" you started to offer.

"No! No," he sighed, "I wanna— like you said, use you, right?  I want you to, uh, lay back, and I can go as fast or as slow as I want."

You smiled a little.  "Okay," you agreed, "but— I should probably take this dress off first."

"Let me help," Eddie offered, even though you didn't actually need any help.  You turned away from him and felt his hands delicately unzip the back of the gown; the ghost of his touch on your spine made you nearly shiver.

Once it was unzipped, you shimmied out of the garment and tossed it aside, leaving you in just your bra and panties (and the tiara, which you'd forgotten about.

You laid back on the bed for him to climb on top of you, which he did, his eyes running all over your body.  "Listen, I know you're already doing me a really big favor," he cleared his throat, "but, uh, maybe… maybe you could show me your tits?"

You grinned and reached under your back to unclasp your bra, hearing him sigh a little at the sight of your bare chest.

"Can I—?"

"Sure," you answered instantly.  Of course, you thought he was about to say touch them, so you gasped in shock when he actually latched his lips onto them, suckling at your nipples eagerly.  "F-fuck, Ed…"

"Wow," he breathed when he pulled back, "they're really sensitive."

“Yeah,” you agreed, deciding not to mention that that wasn’t always the case.  “I can’t help but notice that you’re still in your pirate get-up there, Munson.”

He smirked.  “Unfair, isn’t it?”

Nodding, you watched him sit back on his feet so he could pull his shirt off over his head.  You'd seen him shirtless plenty of times before, but the toned torso with a decent scattering of dark hair and even darker tattoos was always a welcome sight.  He'd gotten even more muscular in the last couple years, something you'd sort of tried not to notice, but you couldn't fight the urge to run your hand over his chest and pecs when they were exposed.

“Is that better?” he grinned, but you laughed loudly right away when you saw one of his teeth was still blacked out for the costume.  He wrinkled his eyebrows before he seemed to remember, looking a bit more shy for a moment.  “R-right, sorry…”

He reached into his mouth and scrubbed the black marks off with the pad of his finger, licking the tooth for good measure before showing his teeth again.

“Back to normal?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you answered, “good as new.”

Your hand was still on his chest, lightly, and he got a little more serious as he took it and guided it down: over his slight abs and down to the thick bulge in his pants.  You sighed a little at the feeling of it through the leather, he was so hard and warm even through the heavy material.

"Damn, you're big," you noticed.

"Really?" he grinned.  "Fuck, okay."

"I should've known you would have a big cock," you laughed, rubbing him a little firmer through the pants, "you've got that way about you."

"Oh?  I didn't— I didn't think it was that big," he mumbled.

You smiled and pulled your hand out of the way as he shimmied the pants down his thighs, exposing his erection that bounced back up to his belly button.  (Yes, it reached that far, and you felt a little dizzy.)

"So," he broke the silence, "that's… that's my dick."

"Y-yeah," you nodded, sounding a little hoarse.

He let you stare at it blankly for a while before clearing his throat, tearing you out of your trance to look up at him; he smirked at you proudly, the smut bastard.  "You're looking at me different now.  You look… well, you're kinda drooling."

"Yeah… sorry…" you murmured absent-mindedly.

"No, don't be," he assured.  "You know, the girl that gave me that blowjob, she could only take it to about here before she choked."

He held his finger up to halfway down his shaft, and your hips shifted.  "I could get it deeper," you announced.

"Oh, you will," he promised, "but not with your mouth— I don't have any use for your mouth, babe.  You promised me your pussy, that's what I want.  And she's gonna take all of it."

"Are you talking dirty to me now?" you noticed.

"It might be dirty, but it's true," he smiled, falling down on top of you and holding himself up with bent elbows beside your head.  "You can still back out, you know," he reminded you.  "No judgment. We'll go back to normal."

"We were never normal, Eddie," you reminded him.

"Right," he grinned, "but still.  Are you sure?"

"Yeah— if you are."

He kissed you again, right when you least expected it.  "Yeah," he whispered when he pulled back slightly.  "I'm sure.  I, uh, think it's about time that I lost it, don't you?"

Nodding in agreement, you reached down and wiggled yourself out of your panties, totally naked under him.  He sighed slowly and looked down for a moment— only to look back up with his lip between his teeth.  

"Fuck. Okay. Are you ready?" he asked.

"Are you?" you returned— he looked pretty nervous, shaking a bit, breathing heavy.

"Yeah, fuck, I've been ready for this for years," he laughed breathlessly.  "Just didn't think… yeah, fuck.  Didn't think it would happen tonight."

"Well, if you keep stalling, maybe it won't," you smirked.

"Okay, okay— no more stalling.  I'm gonna… I'm gonna fuck you now."

He sounded like he was convincing himself more than you— but a moment later, he plunged forward and filled you with his cock.

He shivered as he pressed his hips up to yours, moaning weakly.  For a moment, you couldn't help but bite your lip at the feeling of him buried all the way inside you, but thankfully he didn't notice: his eyes were shut tight and his head tossed back.

You sat up, barely, just enough to put your lips by his ear.  "You're not a virgin anymore, Eddie," you whispered to him.

He sighed, then laughed slightly.  "I guess not."

"How's it feel to be inside a pussy?" you asked, genuinely curious for his reaction.  "Compared to a blowjob."

"God, it's— it's so much better," he panted.

"Really?  Some guys really seem to prefer getting blown even though it's not nearly as fun for—"

"No, fuck, this is better," he insisted quickly.  "Your… your pussy feels so— and it's— fuck, so warm, warmer than a mouth.  And… and really tight— god, it's so… squishy?"

You laughed.  "That's not a very sexy way of describing it."

"W-well, sorry," he laughed too, breathlessly, "that's how it feels.  You're— thank you for, uh, letting me do this."

"Yeah," you agreed with a smile, relaxing into the mattress under you and noticing the way he was staring down at your face.

"I can move, right?"

You nodded; he shuddered a little as he pulled his hips back and pushed forward again.  He caught you watching his face, so you shut your eyes quickly and just focused on the feeling.  It had actually been a while since you had a hook-up, and though you didn’t expect this to last very long, you could at least just enjoy it for now.

"Fuck," he breathed, "it's so… sticky.  Fuck."

“Sticky?” you repeated.

“I-in a good way,” he added quickly.  “God, I just… you’re really wet, s’all.”

Eyes still closed, you felt a smile trying to creep up on your face.  You could tell he wanted to know why you were so wet, specifically he wanted you to say that he made you that way, but you decided his ego was already getting enough stroking for the night.

His breathing was heavy and slow, but the pace of his hips picked up.  When you blinked your eyes open, he was staring down at where he was fucking into you; that made you feel a little exposed, but oddly powerful, too.  "Wow," he groaned, "I— I love watching it.  The way it, like… splits open, around my cock… fuck.  That's really sexy."

His next thrust was a little harder, his hips colliding with the back of your thighs as you wrapped your legs around him.

"Mm," you moaned softly, adjusting yourself under him a bit.  "That's nice— you feel good."

"Really?  Fuck, I couldn't feel half as good as you do," he grunted, "'cause if I did you wouldn't be able to be so quiet."

"I'm just listening to you," you explained with a smirk.

"Can you feel the, uh, head?  Like you said before?"

You nodded.  "It's rubbing this one place inside me— it feels good."

"Oh, fuck," he purred, starting to move faster.  "Tell me that again."

"It feels good, Eddie," you groaned, "you feel good."

"Fu-uck," he whined, shutting his eyes tight and tilting his head back.  "How good?"

You knew he could be a little competitive, and you smirked slightly.  "Better than the other guys," you answered, figuring that was what he wanted to hear.

"Do you— fuck— do you let a lotta guys do this?" he asked roughly.  "Just— use you, to come?"

You shook your head.  "No— I need something from them, they have to make me come.  But you don't have to, Eddie, I don't need you to do anything to me except whatever you want."

"God," he choked, "that's— fuck. you're way too nice.  I-I’m gonna— fuck, I don’t think I can last very long.”

You just smiled and reached up to hold onto his shoulder.  “S’fine, you can come— I want you to.”

“Really?” he whined.  “Fuck, I’m not very good at this, am I?”

“Just come,” you encouraged, “it’s okay, Eddie, just come inside me—”

The second you said that, he groaned weakly, head falling onto your shoulder; you felt it a second later as he gave you a few more weak thrusts, the flexing of his cock as he finished inside.  Sighing in satisfaction, you shut your eyes and wrapped your arms around him tightly.  

After a long silence, with his heavy breathing falling on your ear, Eddie rolled off and onto his back beside you on the mattress.  “You look different,” you giggled as you turned to look at him while he stared up at the ceiling.

“I feel different,” he agreed.  “That was— yeah.  That was different.”

“Good different?”

He looked back at you, finally, with raised eyebrows.  “Are you jok— yeah!  Fuck yeah, that was— Christ.”

There was another long silence, maybe a few minutes’ worth, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all.  You and Eddie were always pretty good at silences.  This one was heavier, and more meaningful, but just as natural as usual: until he broke it.

“Wanna do it again?” he asked softly.

Your eyes widened.  “Uh— fuck, now?”

“Yeah,” he grinned at you.  “I’m still— maybe this time you could actually— you know, uh—”

You bit your lip as he stammered over a few different sentences.

“Or if that’s all you wanna do, you know, with me, that’s fine,” he promised, “but, um… I feel bad, you know, that you didn’t…”

“Okay, yeah,” you agreed quickly, “I mean, if you can still—”

You hadn’t even finished your sentence before he was inside you again.  Moaning louder, you tilted your head back and held onto his sides as he fucked you; his mouth latched onto your neck and you let out a small whimper.  “Fuck,” he mumbled against your skin, “fuck— you feel so good…”

“I— Eddie, I didn’t think you could—” you began.

“I didn’t think I could either,” he laughed, “but it’s just— fuck, you’re so… I just need to— god…”

His thrusts were harder and faster than they’d been before, and everything was so slick with his come still leaking out of you; it was filthy in the best way.

“I didn’t think you’d let me do it twice.  I… I really don’t deserve this,” he insisted quietly.

"Yeah, you do," you breathed.  "You're so sweet, Eddie, you're my best friend— dunno what I'd do without you—"

"I lied," he blurted out suddenly.  "I thought about it before.  About how you would feel."

You barely even remembered the part of the conversation he was talking about.  

"All the time, god, I thought about it all the time," he admitted with a lowered voice, resting his head on your shoulder, fucking you even deeper until your eyes rolled back.  "Thought about it while I jerked myself off— how your pussy would feel.  And it's so much better than I thought it'd be.  You're really tight— I didn't know if you would be, 'cause, y'know, you're a slut."

You wanted to correct him on that old myth about tightness and promiscuity, but you were too busy trying not to moan so loud the next door trailers would hear.

"Fuck," he laughed, "you got even tighter when I called you that.  Slut."

"Freak," you choked out through a moan, your instinctive response.

"You haven't seen the freak yet, princess," he smirked proudly, lifting his head up to look down at you.  "I wanted to fuck you different than this, too— I thought about fucking you from behind.  Smacking your ass and watching it bounce on me.  Making you fucking scream."

"God, Eddie," you whined.

"Is this how they talk to you?  All those guys you let put their cocks in you, do they treat you like this?"

"N-not exactly…"

"Well, that's too bad," he whispered, "'cause I can tell this is how you like it.  Am I wrong?  Do you like being fucked like a whore, and called one?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, Eddie, I… I like it rough.  And mean."

He chuckled.  "That explains a lot.  I can be mean, sweetheart."

The kiss he planted on your cheek, though, was gentle and delicate.

"Or I can be nice," he added in a whisper.  "I can be whatever you want."

“Just… be yourself,” you decided, sounding more like an inspirational poster than you intended to.  He smiled and kissed you on the lips after that, reaching down to hold onto your thighs.

Well, it turns out Eddie ‘being himself’ in bed means fucking you mercilessly.  And he was holding onto you mainly to keep you steady so he could rail you halfway to fucking death.

It was useless trying to keep quiet now, while he treated you this way, and so your loud moans were muffled only by his lips on yours; until, of course, he broke away and you could hear them echoing around the messy bedroom.

"So good," he grunted, "so— so fucking good.  Such a perfect pussy, can't believe you're letting me use it.  I'm so fucking lucky— my best friend is a hot slut, I'm so lucky—"

You arched your back a little deeper still, clinging to him tightly, feeling totally helpless in the best possible way.

"Gonna let me use this pussy again?" he taunted.

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Whenever I want, right?  You can be my little toy, baby.  Your pussy can be my toy."

"Yes!"

"And I'll keep you so full of come," he promised, "so full, all the fucking time, you're gonna make my cock feel so good— fuck, baby, you're gonna let me get my cock wet all the time."

"Yeah, Eddie, fuck," you moaned.  

"You're so pretty," he blurted out, and you almost laughed because of the sudden change of tone.  "God, baby, you're so pretty— you look so pretty like this."

"On my back?" you smirked.

"N-no, you don't understand," he whined, leaning down so his chest was pressed to yours, whispering against your ear.  "You're beautiful."

You smiled a little, holding onto him tighter.

"And I thought that before you let me fuck you," he promised.  "I always thought you were beautiful.  And that it should be me and not those guys you go home with."

"Y-you were right," you admitted, "but— we're still just… just friends, right?"

"Shut up, you're not fucking listening," he groaned, "I— god, I love you, okay?"

Your eyes were definitely just watering because of the intensity of it all; you hid your face in his shoulder, biting your lip, feeling your toes curl just above where your ankles were crossed around his hips.

"I love you and we can't just be friends anymore.  You feel too good… I'm sorry, baby, we can't just be friends, I fucking need you."

“I— fuck, Eddie,” you whined.

“You love me too, right?” he breathed.  Shyly, you nodded against him.  “Then say it— baby, please, I need you to say it.”

“I love you too,” you choked out.  “I need you too—”

"Oh my god I'm gonna come again," he gasped, tilting his head back.  "Fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna come inside you again.  You're gonna be so full, baby.  Gonna fuck you so full…"

“F-fuck, please, please,” you sobbed, your beaten walls clenching up every time he slammed himself into you all the way— it was too deep, but the right amount of too deep, somehow.  “Please, Eddie, fuck!”

“I’m coming,” he grunted in a low and gravelly voice that made your spine tingle, “I— fuck, I’m coming again, fuck—”

This time, he stopped completely and suddenly, burying himself inside you with a long, deep moan.  He slipped his arms under your arched back and hugged you tightly.  This silence was much longer than the last, and a little less comfortable; there were all these questions hanging in it, including but not limited to: did he really mean all that?  Did I really mean all that?  Why haven’t we been doing this the whole time?  Why is he so good at that?  Are we dating now?  Is this going to ruin everything?

It didn’t seem like it would ruin anything— actually, to you, everything felt right in a way it never had.  You’d never really admitted to yourself how you felt about Eddie, let alone anyone else— let alone him, right now, in the middle of some spontaneous sex that you thought was going to change everything but actually made things suspiciously the same as ever.

That was what you realized, then: that this hadn’t actually changed anything.  You’d loved him before tonight.  You’d wanted this for a while.  You’d needed him as long as you could remember.  Everything could continue on as normal— except, hopefully, and presumably, that you’d be fucking a lot more.

As your mind raced, Eddie’s was completely and totally blank in a way it never had been in his life.  He was entirely blissed out, and only came to when you shifted under him and made him hiss in a breath through his teeth.

Lifting his head, he looked down at you, reaching up to pet your cheek with his thumb and hum happily to himself.  That moment couldn’t last too long, though, especially when he realized he’d failed at his goal: “Shit,” he groaned, “you didn’t come that time either, did you?” 

You shook your head sheepishly, about to assure him that it was fine— there’d be other chances, clearly, and tonight was already more than perfect without that.  He’d still done way better than you could’ve ever expected for a guy who was a virgin half an hour ago.  

But before you could say any of that, he’d pulled you into a lazy, yet hungry, kiss; he smiled against your lips as his tongue carefully teased yours, holding your face in his hands.  You were totally dazed when he pulled away, blinking up at him with totally undeserved innocence, and he had the most devilish look in his eyes.  “Guess that means we’ll have to go for another round, huh?” he asked.  But it wasn’t a question: he’d decided, and so had you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic

[scatteredskittless]

Hazbin Hotel crew x Reader: general fluff hcs

A/n: 100+ follower special !!

I’ve been doing a lot of headcanons lately so I pinky promise there’ll be some kind of oneshot coming soon 🙏

Warnings: None !! Just some good old fashioned fluff :3

Fluff✔️ Comfort❌ Angst❌ Smut❌

‧₊˚✧ Alastor ✧˚₊‧

📻𖤐 When Alastor forms a close bond with you (and I’ve mentioned this before), he’d want to spend more time with you. Even if that’s just sitting in silence together and reading your own separate books

📻𖤐 Who knows? Maybe he’d let you lean against him, head on his shoulder, as he reads to you?

📻𖤐 This guys primary love language is quality time for sure. A close second perhaps acts of service.

📻𖤐 Biggest mamas boy ever…. But I’m sure we all knew that already

📻𖤐 LOVES to go on walks with you, especially during the afternoon or at night.

📻𖤐 Would link your arm with his and chat with you as you went on your daily stroll together… you’re not quite sure when it became a routine but it did.

📻𖤐 Huuuggeee story teller

📻𖤐 100% laughs at dad jokes and will also make them from time to time

📻𖤐 Always winning every single IDGAF war because he genuinely, wholeheartedly, just doesn’t give two shits 💀💀

📻𖤐 Can’t swim. I don’t know how to explain why I think this but I just KNOW its true

📻𖤐 Freezes like a deer in headlights (quite literally) when you shine a bright enough light at him

‧₊˚✧ Angel Dust ✧˚₊‧

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Angel would be the absolute BEST at giving out hugs oh my goddd, he’s got six arms for a reason, baby !

🕸️ᥫ᭡ I feel like he’d have fun dancing !! (I mean “Loser, Baby” was enough evidence for me)

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Competitive as fuck, UNO would actually be so fun with him 😭 (gets so genuinely excited when he wins too, gloating about it and everything like he just won the lottery)

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Biggest shoplifter ever and most of the time it’s not even because he can’t afford it, he just does it for fun.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Smells realllyyy good all the time, he’s got the best perfumes ever

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Spa-days/Self-care days quickly become a Saturday night thing for you two once you become one of his besties. And I’m talking the whole shabang like face masks, candles lit and snack tray out as he paints your nails for you 💕

🕸️ᥫ᭡ It’s something Angel genuinely looks forward to as well (ᵒ̴̶̷᷄⩊ᵒ̴̶̷᷅)

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Primary love language is most likely physical touch, we’ve all seen how touchy he can get 🤞

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Getting to know his real name and getting to call him by it means he trusts you a lot, he doesn’t give that privilege out to just anybody.

🕸️ᥫ᭡ On a less serious note, he’s definitely a huge show off 💀💀

🕸️ᥫ᭡ Amazing at doing makeup, will do your makeup if you asked him to (might accidentally poke you in the eye or something though lmfaoo)

‧₊˚✧ Husker ✧˚₊‧

🍺🃁 Needs glasses and HAS them but just doesn’t wear them for whatever reason. He looks good in them though !!

🍺🃁 Cheats in any card game ever. Wins 9/10 against you because of that reason (he’s also a gambler so that’s a big factor as well obviously)

🍺🃁 Bros the type of guy to call you “doll�� and “baby”

🍺🃁 Primary love language?? quality time 🙏 🙏acts of service and physical touch are both tied for second place (but you only ever really get the physical touch one if you’re his s/o)

🍺🃁 Again, we all saw “Loser, Baby” this mf can DANCE and he enjoys it too

🍺🃁 Jazz is one of Huskers favourite music genres for sure

🍺🃁 You two don’t really have a routine hangout type thing but he does enjoy it when you come around to the bar to just hang out with him while he cleans and whatnot :3

🍺🃁 Trust, you will be given a specialized nickname just for you once he considers you a close friend of his.

🍺🃁 He’s a great listener but gives very blunt advice, doesn’t sugarcoat shit if you ask him for his opinion on something.

🍺🃁 Weirdly caught up with mental health stuff, like he knows a lot about it

🍺🃁 Poor Husker does NOT like the cat noises he makes but he literally cannot control them 😭😭 (believe me, he’s tried)

‧₊˚✧ Vaggie ✧˚₊‧

🗡️☪︎ Vaggie is NOT a morning person, usually sleeps in until around noon

🗡️☪︎ Would have good fashion taste

🗡️☪︎ Vaggie is also a very competitive UNO player, probably ends up yelling at Alastor for making her pick up all those “pick up four” cards when everyone plays together (yes, he looks smug as fuck while doing it and yes he was saving them just for her 💀💀)

🗡️☪︎ Has beef with almost all of the guys at the hotel but Husker is chill for the most part

🗡️☪︎ Adding onto that last one, it doesn’t really take much for a man to piss her off tbh (she’s so real for this)

🗡️☪︎ Would spar with you if you asked and gets really into it too !! She’s careful not to actually hurt you though and it’s a great way of bonding with her (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

🗡️☪︎ Verrryyyyy jealous girl, remember when Emily took Charlie’s hands in the heaven episode?? (The look on her face made me giggle)

🗡️☪︎ Hates pickles. She just looks like she’d be a pickle hater

🗡️☪︎ Primary love language is words of affirmation

‧₊˚✧ Charlie ✧˚₊‧

⭐️☀︎ Charlie is infact a morning person and wakes up at the crack of dawn everyday for zero reason whatsoever 💀

⭐️☀︎ She does her absolute best to include everyone in every activity going on, she doesn’t ever want anybody in the hotel to feel excluded

⭐️☀︎ Biggest shipper EVER. You ever told her you have a crush on someone here?? Oh god..

⭐️☀︎ She’ll silently fan girl from a distance whenever you and your crush are together to the point Vaggie has to drag her away

⭐️☀︎ Charlie can be a little bit overwhelming at times but her happiness is suppeerrr contagious

⭐️☀︎ The best way to spend time and bond with her?? Literally just offer to do anything with her and she’ll do it, I don’t think she’s too picky

⭐️☀︎ Learnt some Spanish from Vaggie and tries to use it with her to be all romantic but her pronunciations are fucked up (She’s trying her hardest guys okay 😞🙏)

⭐️☀︎ Totally asked Vaggie one time as a pick up line if she fell from heaven and she broke out into a sweat (poor girl)

⭐️☀︎ Primary love language is words of affirmation. quality time is somewhere up there too though

⭐️☀︎ Will break out into song a lot and it’s kinda funny to watch

‧₊˚✧ Niffty ✧˚₊‧

🧼𐙚 Acts a lot like a hyperactive toddler on crack. Has zero chill and it’s pretty rare to see her actually calm

🧼𐙚 I think Niffty lowkey has stage freight, like we all see how she just automatically freezes up when a camera is on (I mean it’s happened twice in the show already)

🧼𐙚 Takes a lot after Alastor, sees him as some sort of older brother figure as well 😞🩵

🧼𐙚 When playing UNO, she’d fucking EAT the cards so she’d win. Deadass just nom nom nom that shit

🧼𐙚 She’s a big giggler, she’ll laugh and giggle at almost everything so it’s not hard to get her to do so

🧼𐙚 She’d probably really enjoy it if you let her just sit with you for a while and braid your hair (But she’d steal some for her “collection” in the process)

🧼𐙚 I’m actually not too sure what Nifftys love language would even be? Perhaps acts of service (she is a maid, after all)

🧼𐙚 Okay 99% sure this is actually canon but she’s a hardcore germophobe, can’t handle when things are cluttered or a mess.

🧼𐙚 Has a collection of cleaning supplies in her room

+ Bonus !!

‧₊˚✧ Vox ✧˚₊‧

📺☆ Whenever Vox is sleeping or thinking really hard about something, the voxtek symbol will bounce around on his screen like the DVD logo thing

📺☆ Not very big on pda, he has an image to uphold, after all. (But he would enjoy affection in private though)

📺☆ Not above watching you through whatever technology you have, he spies on you a lot 💀💀

📺☆ Also guys…… stop pretending Vox isn’t a whiny little bitch, because he is (trust me y’all, read some of @bigfatbimbo’s stuff)

Please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my fanfictions/headcanons/writing without permission ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞

ᯓ★ Scatteredskittles

#asks open #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel comfort #angel dust x reader #angel dust fluff #angel dust headcanons #husker headcanons #husker x reader #charlie morningstar #charlie morningstar headcanons #vaggie headcanons #vaggie #vox x reader #vox headcanons #Niffty headcanons

[sundrop-writes]

Careful - Chapter Four

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Four: Last Hope

It’s just a spark but it’s enough to keep me going.

Summary:

The entire axis of your world is shifting.

Spencer is not the man you left alone all those years ago, and you don't know how to react to him being such a perfect, caring father. You also don't know how to react to the potential that you could be killed by someone who has already gutted five other women.

Luckily, Spencer is there to protect you. Another thing you don't fully know how to react to - but somehow, you just go with it.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. (Slight) Fluff and Angst.

Word Count: 8,800

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: Again, basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, the reader character is the next target of a serial killer; mentions of the reader wearing a sexy Halloween costume (during a flashback); mentions of gender roles - the reader doesn’t raise Sebastian with strict gender roles (and Spencer appreciates this); mentions of the reader giving birth (not graphic descriptions); some emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; angst because Spencer is upset about missing out on so much of Sebastian’s life; passing mention of abortion; the reader is threatened (in a graphic way) and called whore in a derogatory manner by the UnSub; Spencer is also threatened in a very graphic way by the UnSub; specific threats of stabbing and rape (toward the reader); passing mention of poop (because come on, this is a little kid, and kids talk about their poop a lot); I believe that’s it for this chapter.

A/N: So, this chapter starts off with a flashback rather than ending with one, because flashbacks are important to how information is revealed to the audience, and I think it works here. Idk what else to say about this chapter - I think it's a nice transition into the climax. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Halloween. It was always a time when Spencer thrived the most - and he thrived even more when spending it with you. 

It was your second Halloween together as a couple, and Spencer loved that you enjoyed celebrating the holiday just as much as he did. You loved dressing up, you loved all of the spooky lore behind Halloween. And of course, you loved listening to all of the real life facts he had to tell you about Halloween’s history, and things like vampires, werewolves, zombies, and all of the Halloween traditions and how they evolved over time. 

You didn’t think before that learning about the origins of Halloween could make it even more fun, but Spencer somehow made it into the most exciting educational documentary of your life. 

This year, you had invited him to a house party that one of your work friends was hosting. It would be some light drinking, finger food, dancing to cheesy Halloween songs, and most likely sitting around and talking while roasting marshmallows around your friend’s backyard fire pit. It wouldn’t be anything big, but you expected it to be a really fun night. 

You showed up to Spencer’s place wearing a straight off the rack, generic ‘sexy witch’ costume. It consisted of a very wide brimmed pointy hat, dark make-up, and a tight corset drawing attention to your curves, as well as a short tulle skirt, flared sleeves, and black fishnets and black boots to top off the look. He found you irresistible and almost wanted to stay at home. But he was looking forward to the party; he was excited to meet your friends and he knew that the occasion meant a lot to you. 

He told you that he was planning on going as a young Ernest Hemmingway, and as much as you adored it, because it was a very Spencer thing to do - you knew that it was very unlikely that anybody else at the party would be able to identify his costume on sight, and that would probably disappoint him. He would be standing proudly, asking people to guess who he was, and they would come up blank because they weren’t in the same mindset as him. 

So you advised him of this, and encouraged him to steer his costume in a different direction. (And Spencer - trusting any advice you gave, simply let you lead him.) 

You took the late 1800s style clothing he had picked out for the occasion, and some of the makeup you had brought in your bag for potential touch-ups - and you convinced him to let you dress him up as a sexy vampire who had been turned in the late 1800s. 

You did his makeup - with some dark eyeliner, that he winced at the entire time, some dark eyeshadow, and some red lipstick smudged around his mouth to appear as though it were blood he had just siphoned from his latest victim. And the entire time you worked, he came up with an elaborate name and backstory for his vampire character. You delighted in listening to him tell you all about Frederic Henry - named after a Hemmingway character. A man who was shot in the military and assumed dead, but who was saved in the trenches of World War I by a vampire’s bite, and then lived on. 

You encouraged him to wear his shirt unbuttoned quite a bit, creating a deep V down to his chest that he wouldn’t have worn any other time. Thinking about his story, you even used the eyeliner to create the scar of a bullet wound on his chest, slightly hidden by his shirt - something to hint at Frederic’s tragic past. 

(Both you and Spencer got way too into it, but you were having fun.) 

You were running a bit late by the time you left Spencer’s apartment, but it was a casual house party, and you knew that nobody was going to call you out for being ‘late’. 

You parked a few blocks away, not wanting to drive through the neighborhood with so many kids out and about on foot. It was still early in the evening, and many kids were still out, knocking on doors, getting their candy. 

“They’re so cute, aren’t they?” You remarked as the two of you walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand with Spencer as you made your way toward the party among a sea of Trick or Treaters. 

“Kids in costumes? Or just kids in general?” Spencer replied with a chuckle, trying to clarify what you had said. 

(There was a hopeful edge in his voice, a daring longing in his eyes as he looked at the parents helping their children from house to house. Something deep inside of him that hoped the two of you could have your place here a few years from now.) 

“Kids in general are cute.” You shrugged. “But kids in their little costumes are so much cuter.” 

Spencer’s insides fluttered - seeing you light up with joy just talking about children, knowing that it might be in your future. Knowing that it might be a part of his future with you. 

“If we had a baby, would you wanna dress him up for Halloween?” Spencer asked. 

You wanted to fixate on the ‘if’ - to tell him that you thought it was something more certain in your future, with the way things were going. That you thought he would make an amazing father. That you wanted it to be a ‘when’. 

Instead, you chose a different part of his statement to pick at. 

“You sound awfully certain that our kid would be a boy.” You chuckled. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who would be disappointed by having a girl.” 

That would be a dealbreaker for you. As amazing as Spencer was - he had to be just as good of a father to a daughter as he would be to a son in order to stay in the picture. 

“Goodness, no.” Spencer replied, shaking his head. 

He held back. He didn’t tell you that he had spent far too much time - hours on the plane rides back home, nights when he couldn’t sleep - thinking about his future with you. He imagined three kids. An oldest boy, and two girls, about a year or two apart each. A golden retriever, a house - he had even picked out which district he wanted to live in based on schools in the area and lowest crime rates. 

He knew it was stupid, but he had already been squirreling away money for a downpayment on that house. When you were ready, he wanted to be able to give you everything you could ever ask for. He had way too much time to fantasize, and he didn’t want to admit that to you now. 

“Just - it slipped out.” He chuckled. “I would be thrilled if we had a little girl. But - I pictured us having a boy.” 

In his mind’s eye, his daughter was so much like you. And if that came to pass, then he would be the luckiest man on earth. 

“You did?” You grinned at him, a distinct light in your eye. 

Spencer found his chest untightening as he breathed in relief. 

“Well, if he’s half as cute as you,” You said, moving a hand over to pinch one of his cheeks, which made him smile and let out a huff, half forming into a laugh. “Then I definitely wanna dress him up in a Halloween costume. Especially while he’s still little and cute and can’t argue about what I wanna dress him up as. Before he starts talking and wants to be that fuzzy guy from Star Wars.” 

“You mean Chewbacca?” Spencer asked, wondering which one you were talking about. 

“Yeah!” You said. “The big ugly one. The little teddy bear guys are cute, but the big one is kind of creepy.” 

“We had an all-day Star Wars marathon, and you didn’t tell me that you thought Chewbacca was creepy?” Spencer chuckled, his mind now distancing from the subject of the two of you having kids. 

“Yeah, because you were there to protect me!” You replied, your voice still filled with lightness and laughter. “And I didn’t even really realize it until after. I had this weird nightmare-” 

“You had nightmares about Chewbacca?” 

“One nightmare! It was only one!” 

The subject of children was forgotten, then. 

Your laughter echoed off into the night, and you didn’t think much of the conversation. 

Spencer remarked on it as a precious memory - as a sign that his savings account was an insurance policy for his future, not a fool’s errand. After the break-up, he thought about it over and over - he wondered where he had gone so wrong, how he had lost you. If you had felt so secure in your future together - how had he lost you?

… 

Spencer wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he was growing more and more love for Sebastian with each passing moment. 

After he got off the phone with Derek, he went back into the house to be mobbed by Sebastian. Having the boy run into his arms with so much excitement - it made him feel more heroic than anything he had done with the BAU for the past years of his life. So often, when he carted off a killer to jail or when he saw a victim returned to the arms of their family, he couldn’t feel the relief or the calm that JJ or Gideon spoke of. He just felt so empty. 

But having Sebastian hug him tight and ramble in his ear with excitement about all his plans for their afternoon - it made his chest swell with a grand importance that he had only gotten a taste of when he was with you. When he was making you happy. It felt like a moment that his whole life was leading up to. 

You asked Spencer if it was okay for you to go back to your office and get some work done while he occupied Sebastian, and he could think of nothing he wanted more - except maybe for you to join him, and to spend some true quality time with him and his son. But he hoped that would come later. And this in itself was progress - you trusting him to play with Sebastian, to spend time alone with him while you got your work done. 

Sebastian showed Spencer every single one of his toy dinosaurs, and they played with those for quite a while. They also had a tea party with some large bears and dolls present - and Spencer was delighted by the fact that you didn’t buy him gender specific toys. Knowing that this opened up different areas of play and imagination, and allowed for his development to be nurtured by gentleness and caring that young boys didn’t often get in a society so rigid about gender roles. 

Spencer really couldn’t imagine a better boy. You had raised such a beautiful, smart son. Someone who was polite, so caring, and gentle. 

Spencer was practically swollen with love, overwhelmed at getting to spend time with his son. 

His heart felt as though it might burst out of his chest and he knew that he looked fitful, actively holding back overwhelmed tears while Sebastian poured the imaginary tea for each member sitting around the small plastic table and they clinked their tiny plastic cups together in a toast. 

Then, Sebastian wanted to show Spencer a favorite movie of his. He rushed downstairs to put it on the TV, and as he was picking it out among the DVDs, he became distracted by something at the top of the shelf beside the TV. 

“My Halloween basket!” Sebastian said, pointing to an orange basket at the top of the shelf - one that did appear as though it was for Halloween, with a jack-o-lantern’s face painted on the front of it. 

“Mommy says treats are for after dinner. But… can we have one now?” The boy looked hopefully toward Spencer, knowing that he would be able to reach the basket and bring it down toward him. 

Spencer didn’t want to undermine your rules. You had done so well raising Sebastian this far, so you were clearly doing everything right. 

He crouched down to the boy’s level. 

“We should go ask your Mommy if it’s okay to have one.” He told Sebastian, who nodded, and then ran off toward your office with that thunderous urgency in his steps. 

He heard a distant ‘Mommy!’ - and a bang that could have been Sebastian’s version of a knock or him downright smacking the office door until it opened. But then he heard your voice murmuring and what must have been a frustrated sigh. 

Spencer felt slightly bad that he had sent Sebastian to interrupt your work, especially over something so small. But he didn’t want to lose progress with you and have you reaming him out for giving your son sugar without your permission. 

You soon came into the room and went straight for the candy bucket, lifting it off the shelf and bringing it down to Sebastian’s level so that he could choose one. 

“I know it seems cruel. But I didn’t want him eating it all on Halloween and puking, so he’s allowed to have one a day, usually as a treat after dinner.” You explained, clearly wanted to lay out your reasoning for Spencer. 

“No, no, it’s not cruel.” Spencer replied quickly. “It’s a good idea. Regulating his intake of sugar while not completely restricting it as something sacred or off-limits. It’s a good call.” 

Sebastian picked out a small packet of M&Ms, and then you went to lift the bucket away, and he spoke up. 

“Can I pick one for my friend Spencer, too?” He asked. 

“Yeah, go ahead.” You nodded, and then you added on: “Spencer’s favorite is Snickers.”

Of course, Spencer was floored that you remembered this. 

Sebastian picked out a mini Snickers and then excitedly thrust it in Spencer’s direction. 

“Aw, thanks buddy!” Spencer said, eagerly taking it with a grin, even reaching out to give him a high five while he smiled up at Spencer in return. 

(He was too busy looking at Sebastian with those stars in his eyes to notice the way you were watching the pair - watching all of your dreams unfold before you with an odd mixture of bitterness and affection swelling up inside of you.) 

Sebastian moved on to picking out the movie and you went to walk out of the room again, seemingly to get back to work, but Spencer stopped you. Something else was on his mind. 

“Y/N.” He called your name gently, and you turned back to him, your arms crossed stiffly. 

He was just glad that you didn’t seem so angry at him using your name this time. 

“Do - do you have any pictures of Sebastian in his Halloween costume?” He asked meekly, afraid that you would stamp out this request with more anger and defensiveness. 

“Why?” You gaped, seeming very confused that he would even ask this. 

“I - I just wanted to see.” Spencer replied. 

‘Because I missed out on so much of him.’ He hesitated to say. ‘I know it’s impossible, but I want those years back.’ 

The deep sadness lingering in Spencer’s eyes caused your stomach to clench. 

He had really changed. This wasn’t the same man who had been standing in the apartment that night. This wasn’t the same person who had been so callous and stubborn - the same person that you felt you needed to protect your unborn child from. 

Maybe this was the man you had fallen in love with, somehow rescued from the clutches of that person you didn’t know who had mocked you while wearing Spencer’s face. 

“Gimme a minute.” You told him. And then you leaned in close before you whispered something else. “And you should let him see you eat the Snickers, otherwise he’s gonna be insulted.” 

Spencer smiled at this. 

Sebastian waved him over then, and he asked which DVD Spencer would rather watch. Spencer ate the Snickers and thanked Sebastian for sharing his treats once again while the boy went through a very detailed explanation of the plot of the films so Spencer would have an informed choice. And then Spencer picked, and Sebastian moved to put the movie into the DVD player. 

This was when you came back with a thick envelope filled with pictures and handed them over to Spencer. 

“I had these printed a while ago.” You explained. “I was planning on making a scrapbook for my mom, for mother’s day. It’s… basically every important moment in Sebastian’s life.” 

“That’s my baby picture!” Sebastian said excitedly, looking over at the pictures in Spencer’s lap. “That’s when I was a baby, after I was born. I was one day old. Mommy said that everyone used to be one day old at some point, but that just sounds weird!”

Spencer’s throat clenched up with tears, and this clashed with the laughter he experienced from Sebastian’s comments. 

But as he looked through the pictures, he had a much harder time holding back his tears. 

Seeing all of the pictures, all of those moments - it slowly broke him. 

The first picture was one of Sebastian wrapped in a very clinical swaddling blanket when he was still so new and wrinkly, only hours after his birth. Spencer could imagine how small Sebastian would have been in his arms. The tiny little newborn sounds he would have made. Spencer wished that he could have held your hand through the birth, that he could have been there with both of you in the hospital during those first few days of his life. 

Then, a picture of you holding Sebastian in his nursery when you had brought him home from the hospital - a photo that was most likely taken by your mom. You had such a big, bright smile on your face. You looked so perfect with him in your arms. You were such a good mother. 

There were pictures of him when he was more alert - his big, curious eyes looking at the world for the first time; what appeared to be his first picnic out at the park when he was laying on his back on a soft blanket, taking in the world for the first time. Spencer could imagine how sweet his baby laughter would be - what it would have been like blowing raspberries on his soft belly and kissing you under the warm sun. 

He continued flipping through the photos - another one of what must have been his first Halloween. He was dressed up as a chubby round Jack-o-Lantern with his little fist in his mouth, drooling around it while your mother held him for the picture. 

And then - pictures of him walking experimentally while you held him by both of his hands; him sitting in front of a Christmas tree, opening an exciting Christmas toy that made him beam with a big smile. 

Pictures of important memories all throughout his life, all the way up until recently. This past Halloween, he had dressed up as Luke Skywalker. 

He liked Star Wars. 

“Um, can I use your bathroom?” Spencer choked out. 

He knew that he was crying very blatantly now. 

His chest was caving in as all of it truly hit him - how much of his son’s life he had missed. He didn’t wait for you to direct him because he knew that he had passed the bathroom coming down the hall. He abandoned the photos in the middle of the coffee table, haste to escape.  

Sebastian looked at him with sad eyes as he stormed out of the room. 

“Why is my friend Spencer sad?” He asked in a small voice, looking up at you. “He doesn’t like my pictures?” 

“No, honey, your pictures are beautiful.” You assured him, kneeling down by the table and gathering up the pictures. “It’s complicated…” You let out a huff, not knowing how to explain it to him. Not even knowing where to start. “It’s grown-up stuff, okay? Just - just watch your movie.” 

You stacked the photos back into the envelope, and you hoped that Sebastian wouldn’t follow you as you raced down the hall toward Spencer. You weren’t surprised to find the bathroom door closed. 

“Spence,” You called out his name as you knocked gently on the bathroom door. 

That gutted him even more. Spence. 

Another harsh reminder of the life he had lost. 

“I’m sorry.” He called back, his voice audibly drenched in tears. 

Your throat tightened up. 

This began to shift your entire axis. The man you had left standing alone that night - you thought he was a man who would have never cared about your son. Someone who would have asked you to get an abortion or distanced himself from the pregnancy as much as possible. 

But this man - this felt like the Spencer you knew, the one you fell in love with. 

He cared so much. 

This was someone who could fit into your life, someone who could help raise your son. 

And tugging right at your heart, something you wanted to deny - this was a man you wanted to be your husband, as well as the father of your child. 

“Spencer, please-” 

Spencer opened the door then, and upon instinct, you drew back, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. Unconsciously, you were protecting yourself. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologized again. “Did I scare him? I didn’t mean to.” He asked, looking behind your shoulder as if waiting for Sebastian to appear. 

There it was again - prioritizing your son above all else. Worry for him. 

Something you wouldn’t have expected. Something that forced you to shift your whole perspective. 

“He’s fine.” You told him. “He - he probably just wants you to watch the movie with him.” You said, entirely honest, motioning toward the living room - where the sound of Sebastian’s cartoon movie could be heard playing from the television. 

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Spencer noted, reaching for some toilet paper to wipe his eyes with. 

You squeezed your hands tighter around your arms, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. You wanted to wipe those tears away yourself. Spencer’s keen eye went right to this movement, and you felt so caught. 

“I should go start dinner.” You said, eager for an excuse to escape the situation. 

You whisked down the hall before Spencer could say anything else, and before his mind could linger too much on it - on you - his phone rang again. 

It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he had to guess that it was one of the phones from the local police station - someone from the team calling with an update about the case. 

“Reid here.” He answered, deeply hoping that he didn’t sound too tearful over the phone. 

“Do you like pretending, Doctor Reid?” 

That certainly wasn’t a voice he recognized. 

“Excuse me?” Spencer squeaked back, having no clue what this meant. 

“Do you like playing house, Doctor Reid?” 

The person on the other end posed a slightly different question. The voice was sharp and certain, completely devoid of genuine emotion. It caused a chill down Spencer’s spine, and he knew, somehow- 

The UnSub had gotten a hold of his phone number, and felt the need to taunt him by getting in contact with him. 

“Unlike you, I’m not playing.” Spencer growled in return, already having the profile in his pocket. “I don’t need to play house to fulfill some God complex. I fully intend to spend the rest of my life being there for my son, raising him. And as long as I am here, in this house, no harm will come to my son or the woman who raised him.” 

“Hmm…” The man seemed entirely bored with Spencer’s words. “The woman who raised him. Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved. But she did such a good job raising the boy, didn’t she? Seems like she didn’t even need you in the picture, did she? Such a sweet little thing… anybody could just waltz right into that house, slit her throat and take him. He’s smart enough to do well on his own now.” 

Spencer knew that it was a tactic intended to get to him, and he shouldn’t have let it emotionally affect him as much as it did - but fuck, it got to him. 

“Don’t talk about her that way.” He growled into the phone. “Don’t talk about them, that way, I swear to god, I’ll-” 

“You’ll do what, Doctor Reid?” The man cut him off, clearly mocking him. Clearly in disbelief that Spencer could ever truly be violent in response to his family being threatened. 

Spencer choked on a breath, trying to compose himself. 

“Now, now. Simmer now.” The man cooed, still mocking, entirely condescending. “And don’t you worry, Doctor. Every whore gets her time to be an angel. I’m sure that she’s going to look so beautiful when she’s moaning and writhing in pain while my knife plunges into her guts. Don’t worry, Daddy - I’ll treat her as gently as I can.” 

Spencer sucked in a breath, preparing to yell at the man, but then - the line went dead with a sharp ‘click’. Spencer pulled back his phone and looked at the display - he memorized the number so that he could give it to Garcia later, and then, he called JJ. 

“Reid, hey.” 

She sounded worried. 

Any rage pumping through him that the unknown man had triggered in him melted away, and he immediately wondered why JJ had taken on that sad, sullen tone. 

Before he could ask, she spoke up again. 

“We… were just wondering if we should call you.” 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“The UnSub knows you’re in the house.” She announced, ripping the band-aid off all at once. 

Spencer wondered again how this was possible. But he figured that it was better to exchange information and let the questions naturally arise than to ask the questions himself. 

“Yeah, he just called me.” He told JJ. “Clearly with the intention to antagonize me.” 

“Wait, hold on.” JJ sighed. In the police station, she walked into the conference room where the team was working and put her phone on speaker for the room before she spoke to Spencer again. “Tell them what you just told me.” 

“Someone who I can only assume was the UnSub just called me.” Spencer explained. “It was very clear that he was trying to antagonize me. He - he seemed jealous that I’m here - that I’m trying to take his place as father in the household before he could get here.” 

“What makes you say that?” Hotch asked. 

“He claimed that I was ‘playing pretend’. He called me Daddy. He mocked my love for Y/N, and taunted me with the idea of him… potentially killing her.” Spencer found those last words particularly difficult to speak, but he knew that the team needed all the information at hand. 

“Let me guess, he called you from a blocked number?” Prentiss wondered aloud. 

“No, actually.” Spencer replied. “Do you have a pen? I can give you the number and you can have Garcia run it.” 

“Fire away.” Prentiss replied. 

“503-202-1052.” Spencer told her. 

“I’ll call Garcia now.” She said - on the other end, getting up from the table to call Garcia on her cell. 

“JJ said you guys have something too?” Spencer asked, still wondering what JJ had meant. 

“The scumbag sent us a letter.” Morgan answered. “The envelope was full of pictures. A bunch of pictures of your girl and the kid from weeks back - them at the park, at restaurants, at the grocery store. He’s way farther ahead in his timeline than we thought he was.” 

“Yeah, and there’s… something else.” Rossi sighed. “He also included pictures of you and JJ standing on the porch when you arrived at the house. And one of you coming back to the house later, by yourself. In one of them… he crossed your eyes out with a red marker. It’s clear that he sees you as competition. A clear threat to his fantasy.” 

“But - how does he know that I’m Sebastian’s real father?” Spencer wondered aloud. 

“Perhaps he only sees you as competition because you’re another male encroaching on his territory. Because you’ve spent prolonged time at the house, seemingly to protect her and the child.” Hotch theorized. 

“No…” Spencer said, putting the pieces together in his. “On the call, he said: ‘Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved.’” Spencer repeated it perfectly from memory, feeling a pang in his chest at calling you a ‘whore’, even if it wasn’t his own wording. “It was like he knew that me and Y/N dated before and broke up. Like he knows that Sebastian is a result of our previous relationship.” 

“That is… strange.” Rossi remarked. “Do you think that Y/N might have mentioned your relationship to a friend, or a neighbor? Maybe… she might have confided in somebody?” 

“It’s possible.” Spencer sighed. “But since she’s moved here, she’s surrounded herself with women. A female babysitter, fellow moms as her friend group.” It was something he had noticed in the more recent photos of Sebastian. “Our UnSub is a man - I don’t see her divulging those types of things to him, even if she didn’t know he was a potential threat.” 

“Well either way, he knows. And he’s pissed off.” Morgan sighed. “I mean, the wording of this letter… it makes sense why he seems so hostile toward Reid. It’s not just anger toward a random man who’s encroaching on his territory - it’s a personal rage towards someone he feels could actually ruin his chances with Y/N if he’s built up this fantasy of having her in his mind over these weeks.” 

Morgan picked up the letter and read some lines from it. “‘I will stab him in the spine, paralyzing him and forcing him to watch as I rape that whore - I will take her as my own while he pleads for mercy. I will show him what happens when weak men abandon their obligations. If Daddy wants to play, I’ll play too.’” 

“Is that really what he thinks?” Spencer huffed, unable to hold back his emotions. “That I abandoned my obligations? Does he really think that-?” 

“Reid.” Hotch said firmly, cutting off Spencer’s ranting. “Stay calm. What we really need to ask ourselves now is: how does he know so much about you? How does he know so much about your past that even we didn’t know?” 

He added this on - seemingly taking offense to the fact that most of the team didn’t know that Spencer had a serious girlfriend in the past. A relationship that had resulted in a child. 

Just then, Emily came back into the room. 

“Garcia said the phone number goes to a public library on the other side of town.” She announced. 

“Morgan, you and Prentiss go to the library - see if anyone there saw the UnSub or if they have any potential security footage of him.” Hotch ordered. 

“Reid, see if you can convince Y/N to come into protective custody.” Hotch added on, turning his attention to the man on the phone. “With the UnSub being further along in his timeline than we thought, and seemingly being provoked by your presence, we really need to protect her and her child. Stress that fact to her. We need to keep a close eye on her until we can find a viable suspect.” 

“Yes, of course.” Spencer replied, before ending the call. 

Spencer splashed some cold water on his face, truly trying to pull himself together before he exited the bathroom. 

It truly hit him, then. 

This day wasn’t about some soft, sappy reunion with you and his son. This day was about the fact that you had been targeted by a dangerous, deranged killer. And he needed to do everything in his power to protect you from that horrible man. 

A fresh, vicious wave of determination went through him - if he had to tear out the man’s throat with his teeth, then he would. He wasn’t going to let even the tiniest amount of harm come to you or his boy. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. 

He put on a smile, not wanting to potentially scare Sebastian with a frown or his trembling fear over what might happen. He tried his hardest to push all of it out of his mind for now as he walked down the hallway and back into the living room - where a musical cartoonish number was in full swing on the TV. 

“You were in the bathroom for a long time!” Sebastian commented brightly. “Did you have to go poop?” 

Spencer let out a laugh at this. This almost instantly lifted his mood - the fact that such a young kid didn’t have the sense of embarrassment or social constructs in order to know that it wasn’t really routine to ask someone what they had been doing in the bathroom. He easily found humor in Sebastian’s bluntness. 

“Seb, what did we say about asking people about their poop?” You called out from the kitchen, clearly having heard the conversation. 

(So this was a habit of his?) 

“Sorry!” Sebastian called back. Sebastian then turned back to Spencer. “Your poop is only your business. Unless you have to tell the doctor about your poops.” He assured Spencer, clearly repeating something that his mother had told him. 

Spencer nodded. “It’s all good, bud.” He said, smiling at Sebastian. “I’m gonna go talk to your mom, okay?” 

“Are you gonna watch the movie with me?” Sebastian asked. 

“I promise, I’ll watch whatever you want to later.” Spencer replied. 

He made it a promise because he wanted to hold himself to it - he wanted to spend lots of days watching films with his son. And playing games, and teaching him things. He promised himself that there would be lots of time to do these things with Sebastian in the future because nobody would interrupt that for him. 

But for now, he had to convince you to agree to protective custody so that the three of you could have the safety and security of a future together. 

Sebastian seemed content with this answer and turned back to the TV, and Spencer ventured into the kitchen, where you were preparing dinner. 

“Hey, Spence.” You greeted him gently. “I’m assuming that you’re staying for dinner? It’s nothing fancy, just some pasta with cream sauce, and chicken and broccoli.” You explained, gesturing around to the many items you had surrounding you - a pot of boiling water, and cutting boards with different vegetables, and one sequestered off in the corner with cut-up chicken pieces waiting to be put in a frying pan that was still heating up. 

“Sounds good.” He easily agreed. “After dinner, we need to pack a bag for Sebastian, and you need to get some stuff together so that we can get you guys into protective custody.” He said, posing it more like a gentle suggestion than a question that you could say no to. 

He truly hoped that he wouldn’t have to go into the graphic details as to why you needed the protection - why it was more urgent now. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to resort to telling you about the man who had threatened to go poking around in your insides with a knife while making him watch. 

Not surprisingly, you completely ignored what Spencer said. 

“Unless you prefer Turtle Mac n Cheese?” You said, instantly deflecting away from the topic, holding up a box of mac n cheese that had some cartoonish characters on it. They were green and looked vaguely like anthropomorphic turtles. Spencer guessed that this was what you were making for Sebastian’s dinner - most likely along with having him eat some broccoli, because you seemed determined for him to at least somewhat eat healthy. “I think that cartoon shapes really give it that extra gourmet flare.” 

“Stop that.” Spencer demanded gently, taking the box out of your hands and placing it somewhere else on the counter. You frowned at him. “Stop acting like what’s happening isn’t a big deal. If you’re doing this because you’re frightened-” 

“I’m not frightened.” You said, cutting him off. “I just don’t think that the FBI needs to be wasting resources on me when there’s people out there who are actually in danger. Or people who have dead loved ones who need answers.” 

“Exactly.” Spencer pressed. He lowered his voice before he spoke his next words, though he knew it was unlikely that Sebastian would hear him over the movie playing on the TV. 

“The man who sent you those flowers has already killed five other women.” He stressed, pointing behind you, toward the vase with the white carnations in it. He was surprised that you hadn’t thrown the flowers away after what he and JJ had told you. “Five women’s families are waiting for answers about who killed them. And you could be helping us-” 

“I can’t help you, though.” You shrugged. “There are no men in my life. There’s nobody Spencer. There hasn’t been since I broke up with you.” You snapped, giving him a harsh glare - as though you resented him for ruining you, tainting your heart and leaving you broken. 

The realization shattered him a bit more. All this time, he had been worried that you had moved on, that you were living a better life without him. But you had been just as lonely as he was - aside from the company of a small child that reminded you more and more of Spencer every single day. 

Spencer took a breath, trying to focus. 

“Just come into protection.” He pressed. “The FBI will take you to a safehouse, and-” 

“A safehouse?” You scoffed. “How is that any safer than the house we’re currently standing in? Does it have bulletproof windows and a steel reinforced door? Or - or is it just a regular house with regular windows, and regular walls, and a regular door? Just like my house?” You chuckled sarcastically, moving to grab the cutting board with the chicken, shoving it into the now heated pan with the back of your knife. 

Spencer’s nerves were grated on by your sarcasm. 

“Dammit, Y/N!” He shouted, much louder than he intended to. “Can’t you see that I’m just trying to protect you?” 

“Yeah, and where the hell was that attitude four years ago when I begged you to-” You swiftly cut yourself off, the words dying off in your throat, not wanting to rip open old wounds. 

You tossed the items back onto the counter with a crash, only causing more tension in the air. You took in a sharp breath - suddenly, standing in front of the stove, you felt too hot. 

You reached for the edge of your hoodie without thinking, and peeled it up over your head. You were wearing a thin camisole underneath, but surprisingly, your black bra being so visible through the thin white fabric wasn’t the thing that caught Spencer’s eyes as more and more of you was revealed. 

There it was. 

The four-pointed star necklace that he had given to you on your birthday was sitting in the middle of your chest, right where it belonged, glaring at Spencer, taunting him. 

It became apparent to him in seconds that you had been wearing it all day. You had answered the door earlier that day wearing that pale blue hoodie, having no clue that Spencer would be on the other side. You had no reason to impress him, quite angered that he was even there in the first place, actually. So you had been wearing it under your hoodie since before then - since the beginning of the day, likely. 

You had been holding it close to your chest as something precious - hiding it under your clothes as a secret, just for yourself. 

If there was a single shred of doubt in Spencer’s mind that he had loved you more, that he had missed you more since the break-up, it was gone now. You hadn’t dated other men, and you had silently carried that symbol of him, as if unconsciously beaconing him back to you. 

When you finally got the fabric off your head, you instantly noticed him gaped-jawed and staring at your chest. You wouldn’t have called him a pervert, because before you even glanced down to confirm that you had the necklace on - you knew. A terrible guilt struck through your gut, like you had been caught stealing something, and you froze up on the spot. 

You and Spencer locked eyes for a moment, and his hands quivered with the terrible need to reach out and touch you - though in that moment, standing just across the kitchen from you, he felt a thousand miles away. He had a terrible need to hold you, yet he had never felt more distant from you. He had never felt more prohibited from touching you since the moment you had first grabbed his hand on that very first date. 

How long had you wanted him back and said nothing? How many days had you woken up thinking about him, knowingly raised his son alone, and made no effort to contact him? 

“I - I have to go change my clothes.” You said, your voice so utterly small. “Can you watch the stove?” 

You didn’t wait for a reply before you turned and whisked off again, clearly too eager to escape the tension. 

Spencer busied himself with watching over the food - stirring here and there, and starting the cartoon turtle mac and cheese based on its boxed instructions - trying desperately not to think about what all this meant. 

When you came back, you were wearing a simple, light tee shirt. And it was easy to see that you had taken off the necklace and put it away somewhere. 

… 

Having Spencer there for dinner felt like role-playing as a family. 

With Sebastian in his usual seat behind the dinosaur placemat, sitting between the two of you - it felt like something out of a strange, distant dream. He kept looking to Spencer for encouragement when he ate his broccoli and didn’t spill his juice, and Spencer stared at you across the table, having that constant fond look in his eye whenever he turned back to Sebastian or talked to him in that sweet, soothing voice. 

Spencer also watched you, and tried to make it seem subtle. You noticed his eyes drifting over to your plate, ensuring that you were eating, as he had done many times before. You wanted to make another snarky comment about him pretending to care, but you kept your mouth shut. 

It felt so shallow, and plastic, with the supposed threat hanging over your head; knowing that the only reason Spencer was there in the first place was because he believed that you were in danger. 

Yet, it felt like something you had been doing all your life. It felt like just another night. Like Spencer had come home from work to this a thousand times; like you would get up and do the dishes and kiss him and then bring him to your bed for the night. It felt like that’s how things should be. 

You really weren’t sure if you loved it or hated it. 

You were nearly finished with your food and Spencer’s dinner was half-done, food getting cold on his plate while he encouraged Sebastian to finish up - when there was a knock on the door. 

You expected it to be JJ again, pressing you about the protective custody thing. You let out a harsh sigh when Sebastian quickly wormed out of his chair and raced toward the door - eager to answer it himself. 

“Seb!” You called after him. “What have I told you about answering the door when Mommy isn’t there?” 

You raced after him and uncomfortably grabbed him up with a gut full of food, Spencer trailing behind you awkwardly. 

“You’re here now!” Sebastian argued, laughter in his voice. 

“Here, go with your-” 

You abruptly cut yourself off, stopping yourself from saying ‘go with your dad’. 

“Go back to the table with Spencer.” You told him, turning him around and directing him toward the man. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, knowing that he could predict exactly what that verbal near-slip was. “I will answer the door.” 

“Come on, bud.” Spencer encouraged him. “If you finish up all your dinner, we can have a treat later,” 

He hated to promise something you hadn’t permissed, but he knew that you needed the distraction right now. 

You unlocked the door and opened it, fully expecting JJ to be standing there patiently (likely having heard that entire exchange from behind the door). You were surprised when nobody was there, and instead, your eyes drifted downwards to a large brown envelope sitting on the step. 

It didn’t seem to have any kind of shipping label on it - just your first name written on the front in bright red ink. It made you startlingly curious, at the same time, caused a tight knot to form in your gut. You picked it up, bringing it inside before you closed the door and locked it again. 

You brought it back to the kitchen and placed it on the kitchen island, and of course, this caught Spencer’s attention where he could see you from his place at the table. 

“Y/N, what is that?” He asked, unable to mask the frantic worry popping up in his voice. 

“I don’t know.” You said, feeling slightly haunted by it yourself. 

You moved to open the envelope, and before Spencer could stop you, something echoing in the back of his mind - chirps about potential poison or even a bomb - you had ripped it open and spilled the contents onto the counter. 

Your insides quaked when you saw what it was. 

Spencer rushed over to look at the items with you, and naturally, this drew Sebastian’s attention as well. 

“What is it, Mommy?” He asked, marching over and trying to get a peek over the edge of the counter, but not yet tall enough to see - which you were thankful for. 

“Did you finish all your dinner?” You asked, leaning over to look at him. 

“I did!” He said proudly, nodding. 

“Okay, then, why don’t you go into the pantry and pick a cookie?” You said, hoping that your sudden flood of worry and fear didn’t quake through your voice as you forced a smile for him. 

“Okay!” He cheered brightly. 

He ran off to the large cupboard beside the kitchen table, eager to pick between the varieties of cookies that you had there. 

(Again, he was smart - but easily distracted. That you were thankful for.) 

“Y/N-” Spencer gasped when he saw the items that had come out of the envelope. 

“I don’t wanna hear it.” You said, your voice now quivering with tears you found yourself unable to hold back. “I don’t wanna hear about how you were right.” 

You stared down at the items in horror. 

It was several photos of you; very voyeuristic shots of you going about your daily life. Several of them including Sebastian when you had been doing perfectly innocent things - going shopping, playing at the park. Even pictures of the two of you playing in your own backyard. A view of you getting dressed through your bedroom window. 

One of the photos - a photo of nothing more than the front door to your home - had a message scribbled across it in bright red marker. 

‘Daddy misses you. Be home soon. xoxo’  

“That’s not what I was going to say.” Spencer sighed. 

He saw how horribly you were shaking - he saw the tears brimming your eyes. This time, he truly couldn’t help himself. He stepped around the counter, and upon instinct, he swept you into a tight hug. 

Unconsciously, he caged you away from any potential danger with his arms around your shoulders - holding you like he would have when you had a nightmare or when you shied away from men you considered ‘creepy’ on the subway. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your fingers digging into his back for comfort, clinging to him like you would have clung to a life raft at sea. 

You broke into sobs, the sound muffled by his chest, and Spencer’s own heart stung - knowing that the true depth of the danger had finally hit you. 

“It’s okay.” He told you. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

He rubbed a flat palm across your back, hoping to comfort you in some way, even though he knew that the terror of the whole situation was mounting - and it was a horrible thing to face. 

“Spencer-” You sobbed out, unsure what you even wanted to say. 

“I’m going to make sure it’s okay.” He said firmly. “You know I won’t let anyone hurt you, right?” 

It wasn’t even a question in your mind. The two of you had your problems back in the day, but you knew that Spencer would never let any harm come to you. 

You clung tighter to him, savoring the moments while Sebastian was still distracted - likely sneaking more than the singular cookie you had allotted him to have, not that you cared in the slightest right now. 

If there was anything else on your mind aside from the potentially crippling fear as the realization truly hit you, any room past the fact that you had been stalked and secretly surveilled by a murderer for weeks now; then you might have considered the fact that when you had woken up this morning, you never would have never thought that Spencer Reid, of all people, would be such a comforting touch to you. 

Oh, how things change. 

…

Spencer was hesitant to let you go from the hug. 

But he had to call the team, because this was an important break in the case. And he had to see what kinds of arrangements they could make for you - if they could find a safehouse for you on such short notice, or if he would be taking you to the field office or the police station. 

You cleaned the cookie crumbs off Sebastian and took him to the living room, trying to maintain some sense of calm while you turned on a random cartoon show on cable. He got out a puzzle and you helped him with it while Spencer stepped into the other room and dialed Morgan’s number. 

“Hey, Reid.” Morgan greeted him. “How’s married life treating you?” 

“Not funny.” Spencer replied, his voice short and frustrated. “The UnSub just delivered another package here. More photos. And a message. ‘Be home soon’. It’s pretty clear that he’s planning on making his move soon.” 

“Woah.” Morgan replied. “Well, if Y/N didn’t want protective custody before, then I’m assuming that scared her into complying.” 

“Yeah.” Reid agreed. “Where should I bring her?” 

“Hold on.” 

There were some voices clustered on the other end, and then, the next person to speak on the phone was Hotch. 

“Reid… you’re not going to like what I have to say.” 

“What is it?” Spencer prodded. 

“Morgan and Prentiss got nothing at the library. So far, the only thing we’ve got on this UnSub is the fact that Y/N is likely his next victim, and he doesn’t seem eager to break pattern just because you’re in the house.” 

Spencer didn’t like where this was going. 

“You’re not insisting-?” He asked, and Hotch filled in the blank for him. 

“Our only chance to catch him could be… catching him in the act. We could tie him to the other crimes if we catch him breaking into the house-” 

“The house that my son is currently in.” Spencer huffed. 

“We could bring the boy into protective custody. And leave Y/N there. We know that he never hurts the children, that’s not part of his MO.” Hotch offered meekly. 

“But he gets some kind of catharsis from playing house.” Spencer replied. “If we move Sebastian, that might cause him to break pattern, and he could just move onto another victim.” 

Then, something else occurred to Spencer. 

“Also, we don’t know how he’s surveilling us.” He added on. “If he sees where we’re moving Sebastian, he might go after him.” 

He considered that another woman - someone completely unsuspecting, someone unprepared, someone innocent with no way to defend herself - would be killed if Spencer made the wrong choice. It could be more than one woman if the UnSub got away and simply continued his patterns uninterrupted. 

This was more controlled. The UnSub seemed determined to confront Spencer. 

Spencer felt that was a confrontation he could win. 

“We can have unmarked cars posted on every block. And the minute he breaches the house, you call it in. He won’t get anywhere near them.” 

Spencer hated that it was their only choice. 

“Okay.”

...

Keep reading here: Chapter Five - Brick By Boring Brick

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

~First I love you~

Warnings‼️: use of pet names, a dash of angst for Adam and Lucifer (I’m sorry), swearing, GN!Reader, Lucifer doesn’t really say it but it’s still cute I think.

A/N:Okay I’m VERY into fluffy scenarios with these characters rn- MY HEART- thank you guys for all the love towards these and I hope you enjoy! This is sorta rushed because I’m TIRED and working on TOO MANY THINGS.;-;

~not proofread~

Vox:

I’ve mentioned this in previous headcannons with Vox, but dating someone was most definitely not part of his plan.

He views himself as this big bad overlord who would never go soft for anyone.

Dude thinks he’s too good for anybody, even Vel and Val sometimes. He’s very proud of his work and what he does and doesn’t like anyone getting in the way of that.

You’re only a slight exception.

Who he would literally do anything for

He tries to keep your guys’ relationship very much under wraps. He understands how dangerous of a person he is to be around.

Sharing your relationship to the public would basically be an open invitation for anyone who has beef with Vox,

Including a pesky radio demon

To target you.

So while he denies your guys’ relationship to anyone and everyone, it’s understood between the two of you what you guys truly have.

However, Velvette and Val are able to see right through Vox’s bullshit when he starts getting feelings for you. They see how he reacts to your messages, your affections, and your presence.

They know Vox has a soft spot for you, but since they like their heads attached to their bodies, they keep their mouths shut.

As his feelings for you grow, it became more and more obvious to anyone with common sense what was going on.

The man literally relaxes at the mention of you.

Unbeknownst to Vox, literally EVERYONE knows about your guys’ ‘secret’ relationship.

Vox doesn’t realize how easy he is to read. He’s an impulsive liar, and a good one at that, but his actions very much contradict the lies he spits.

He could literally be screaming at one of his employees for who knows what, and if you walk into the room, his eyes soften and his attention is on you.

He’s straightening out his posture, trying to look as if he wasn’t about to murder one of his employees.

(He would deal with them later)

Despite how obvious his and your feelings are towards one another, Vox still doesn’t make anything public, letting fans and overlords alike to speculate.

It was a poorly kept secret but one the two of you mutually agreed to keep.

You are in Hell afterall. Saying you were the TV faced overlords significant other was like sticking a paper on your back that says ‘Kick me’

Vox does his best to balance his life with you and his work life. Work was all he ever knew, so when you entered his afterlife, scheduling became a huge issue.

He would love to spend every moment by your side but he’s work too hard. His empire is too important to him.

So while the two of you didn’t go out too frequently on dates or outings,

(But trust me when you do, it is luxurious. He makes the limited time you spend together worth it.)

Vox was always making a way to communicate with you.

Whether that be via phone call or through text messages, he’s always making sure to make an effort to spend time with you. Even if it was just hearing your voice and seeing your words through a screen.

On your off days, he keeps you on an ongoing call in his TV room at all times. Unless you have something planned of course, then it’s back to the texting.

He would be in and out of his screen room frequently between meetings and whatever other things he had to do. The little lair of his was where he spent a lot of his time catching up on paperwork, checking up on the latest releases, and working through the insane amount of work emails he received.

All while talking to you. Whether it was ranting about his day or yours, or if it was talking about what your guys’ next date would be or even just enjoying each other's silent, distant, company.

That brought you to now; listening to your significant other rant about his overlord associates who had sprung a last minute meeting on him.

You listen to him shuffling around his office, grumbling as he put on his suit jacket.

He rambled on grumpily while you listened with an amused smile. He swore under his breath as he looked at his watch.

"Alright doll, I'll be back in about an hour."

"Boooo."

"I know, but once this bullshit is over, I just have paperwork so I'll be all yours, I’ll talk to you later."

"Alright, see you in a bit, I love you.”

“Mhm, Love you too.”

Vox hurries out of his media room without a second thought, zapping into a nearby security camera and appearing into the meeting room in a bolt of electricity.

He begrudgingly sat in his chair slumping into himself and mentally preparing for the chaos his coworkers were about to create.

As Velvette and Val went at each other throats, his mind drifted to the thought of you.

God, he would give anything to just be next to you instead on enduring this Hell within Hell.

He zoned out, thinking about how you were sitting on call in his office, waiting for his return. You were so loyal to him.

He thought about you, your company and your voice, the way you sounded when you said you loved him.

Realization hits him like a freight train, his screen glitching out a bit and his fans kicking into high gear as he replays the conversation the two of you had before his abrupt departure.

He kind of stays in stunned silence for a moment, in complete utter shock. Was he dreaming?? He said it back so casually! Too casually!

He whips out his phone, shooting you a quick text:

~“You said you loved me??????”

It takes a few seconds for you to respond, but it feels far too long for Vox.

~“Yeah? You said it back”

~“I didn’t realize I did.”

~“Oh. Did you not mean to?”

~“No!”

~“Fuck that came out wrong. Hold on.”

Vox went into panic mode, his screen glitching in and out. Velvette and Valentinos arguing becoming muted background noise.

He tried his best not to blue screen or shut down completely, taking a deep breath to regain composure before he texted you back.

~“I do. I love you too.”

And boy are you glad Vox can’t see your right now because you are sure he would be soaking in your embarrassment with that prideful grin on his face.

You knew you said it first and honestly it felt natural coming out.

But knowing Vox felt the same, hearing him saying it, or well, seeing him say it.

Seeing that he got over his own pride to just say it by himself meant a lot to you.

It made your chest feel warm with joy, your stomach fluttered with imaginary butterflies, and your face burned red from those words that somehow meant more coming from him.

But of course you couldn’t let him know how giddy he truly made you.

Please don’t boost his ego more-

So instead you respond with;

~“That’s pretty corny, flat screen.”

Your reaction to his admission completely catches Vox off guard. He finds himself smirking to himself, somehow feeling better with you not taking him too seriously.

He couldn’t even hear his coworkers screaming at him, wanting his input on the subject they were arguing about.

He just chuckles to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket. Giving fake hums and nods of acknowledgment. Replaying those three little words in his head over and over and over.

Adam:

Holy shit, this man is too up his own ass to realize how bad he’s got it for you.

Don’t get me wrong, the man’s stuck up. He’s selfish. But whatever you ask?

Yeah you’ve got it or it’s at least getting done by the end of the day.

He’s got it bad.

He usually denies your request at first. He’s ’above such things’.

But whatever request it may be, whether it be him stopping to get food or requesting a late night cuddle session. He’s a sucker for you.

And everyone knows it but he will deny it to no end. No way is he soft for you. Nu-uh.

Because of his status and massive ego, it stops him from acting how he wants to around you for a long time.

Like, he’d love to hold your hand, be with you 24/7 in the streets of heaven.

But deep down he’s super self conscious about getting into a relationship. Man lost not one, but TWO wives that’s were MADE for him.

You’re good at getting him to show his true colors though. Straightening him out when he’s pushed too far.

He definitely made a big show about asking you out as well. Mostly to make himself less nervous about doing it.

According to him ‘it’s an honor he’s even asking you’

Which lead to you giving him a death glare and ignoring his ask the rest of the day until he asked you genuinely.

(He then surprised you at the end of the day with chocolates, a romantic dinner, and a huge blanket fort, where you guys cuddled and watched movies until 2 am. Where he asks you again to be his partner properly this time, not letting his ego get the better of him.)

But that aside, you’re one of the few people who can see through Adam’s egotistical exterior.

I hc that he’s a big softie. So oh boy, when you utter these three little words to him, they gain so much more meaning.

I mean we already know the man loves praise. Hearing it from you is a whole different level of euphoria.

It was the morning of an extermination, and while you weren’t meant to know, Adam couldn’t keep anything from you. You ended up finding out about his yearly activities in killing sinners.

The two of you didn’t speak of it often. It’s not like Adam was supposed to speak on the matter anyways.

But when you heard about the exterminations now coming twice a year?

You couldn’t help but feel nervous for your significant other. Sure Adam was strong, but who knew what the hell spawn were capable of?

Adam had finished getting dressed, walking out of his room with his mask in hand.

He seemed like a giddy child, muttering excitedly how he ready he was. It was a way to get the adrenaline flowing and get him hyped for the big day.

Despite how gruesome it was, he did love his job and the praise he received for it.

You’re laying on the couch watching Adam, hearing only your heartbeat in your ears. You watch Adam put on his mask, looking towards you and giving a small wave.

“Alright babe! I’ll see ya later. Hey, you should order from that one kick ass pizza place tonight! Celebration dinner after I wipe out those fuckin’ hellspawn!”

You’re quick to blink out of your panicked daze, swinging your legs over the cushions and nearly tripping over yourself as you go over to him before he can get out the door.

You let out a breath, brushing off nonexistent dust off his pristine war outfit.

“Just.. don’t be stupid. Alright? Don’t go biting off more than you can chew.”

“Uhh. Babe. You do realize who you’re dating right?? I’m fucking Adam! The original-.”

“Original dick, first man, yes yes I know.”

He looked at you through his mask, his grin faltering at the edges when he saw your eyes drowning in worry that you hid behind a nervous smile.

You avoid his gaze, continuing to try and find things in his outfit to straighten out before he can leave.

If you’re lucky, you’ll find something bad enough causing him to have to stay home.

Where it was safe with you.

Adam puts a hand over your own, stopping you from brushing imaginary fuzz off the front of his shirt.

You meet his gaze, and despite his mask being on, you see a genuine soft smile. One of adoration and reassurance.

One that made you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in.

You press a quick kiss against his mask where a projection of his lips were.

He always hated when you did that. You depriving him of your real soft lips against his own.

Just ask him to take the mask off, he would do it if it meant he could kiss you.

Before he can complain, you gently squeeze his hand, letting out a whispered voice. Almost sounding too nervous- no, too scared- to speak.

“I love you.. please be careful..”

You go to let go of his hand so he can be on his merry way. But he’s quick to process your words.

He tightens his grip on your hand, pulling you in closer to him. A look of shock is evident on his face.

He squeezes your hand, pulling you against his chest. He moves his face, almost uncomfortably close, with his mask causing forced distance between you.

“Say that again.”

Now you were a little confused.

What did you even say again?

Did Adam suddenly get cold feet with the whole extermination?

He kept your body in a sort of pose that looked like you were going to start dancing.

His one hand in your own, holding tightly while his other arm wrapped around your torso, hand pressed against the small of your back to keep you close.

Your body pressed against his, it seemed he only wanted you closer, keeping a firm arm wrapped around your torso while you waited for you to repeat your words.

You look up at Adam, repeating your own words in your head. The realization of what you said and, what he wanted to hear again from you, made your face flush from light shades of pink to dark hues of red.

Adam has a smug grin on his face, keeping his tight grip on you. Refusing to let you go until you give him what he wants.

You see the look on his face and roll your eyes a bit while smiling. In a sudden rush of confidence, you kiss his mask again, wiping that smug smirk off his face.

“I love you.. be careful.”

You repeat, once again before Adam can complain about your teased kisses.

Part of Adam is glad you can’t see his face, which was burning red from your actions and words. You speaking sweetness enough to make him melt in your arms.

Those three little words that seemed so cliche before you uttered them.

He lets go of your hand so he can lift his mask off over his head. As soon as it’s off, he’s leaning in to kiss you. Just before his lips reach yours, whispering back a small:

“I love you too, babe.”

And just like that, he’s kissing you in the most soft and genuine way Adam can be. How he always was with you.

You didn’t know that would be the first and last time you would get to utter those words to your partner.

You didn’t know Adam wouldn’t be returning back to heaven after his expedition.

You didn’t know you’d only be able to hold his empty halo, whispering the lost words you never got to say to him.

Adam never planned to leave you alone questioning your faith.

You didn’t know, but at least Adam knew you loved him before it was too late.

Lucifer:

Another big sap despite his title.

Of ya know. The devil.

He met you a few months after Lillith left. So you saw him at rock bottom.

You met him at rock bottom. Wallowing in sorrows and self pity, waiting for his wife to return.

You never did pry at the king, one because he was your superior, and two because he was never in the right mind space to listen to you.

You offered an ear when he needed, an occasional shoulder to lean on when Lucifer had downed too many bottles.

You made sure the king stayed fed and physically stable. Forcing him out of bed on bad days.

(Well i wouldn’t say forcing. You’d sit beside him, rubbing his back while he lets gentle tears fall down his face. Whispering reassuring words and asking what he wants to eat so he would get up and get his desired meal you serve)

(It’s more of convincing and encouraging)

Lucifer had spent his eternity with Lillith. Having been with someone so long, he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

He was angry. He was grief stricken. He was confused. He was sad.

Her departure tore him and the family they had made apart.

You made him feel normal again. Like he wasn’t a failure of a king, husband, and father. You made him feel okay about himself.

Slowly over the years, Lucifer was recovering. It was painfully slow, but you had patience. These things took time overall.

He would never truly be over his wife’s leaving, not really knowing the reason why she had gone, only blaming himself for it.

A part of his heart was torn out that day, but you worked to fill it with new hope.

Lucifer is completely blind to your doing for awhile. I mean he spent a couple years disassociated from everything.

You provided everything for him and he barely knew anything about you. What was your intent in the first place?

He did ask you this once, why you were helping him. Why you did what you did.

Your reason was simple but struck a chord with Lucifer.

You said he deserved to be loved.

Loved.

He had half the mind to burst out in tears right then and there

After that admission, Lucifer set a goal to become a sort of equal to you. To provide for you as you had for him.

The newfound determination to basically serve you got the king of hell up and moving again.

What the two of you had felt so domestic. Cooking and cleaning together, tending to the garden Lucifer had made with Lillith. He couldn’t bare to step foot in it after she left.

But when he saw you out there in the garden covered in dirt and mud, yanking pesky weeds from the ground.

He couldn’t help but go out there. He didn’t even know you had been tending to it.

Most life had died in the garden with Lucifer’s marriage. Painful and sad

It became a midday chore for you while Lucifer grieved indoors. You caught eye of the gardens beauty one day and thought to spruce it up a bit.

When Lucifer was on his feet again, he joined you in this chore. Trimming away dead branches, pulling weeds, picking fruit that had ripened enough.

While he could just use his angelic power to grow these things, nurturing the plants from the start and watching them thrive and bloom was something he enjoyed ever since creation started.

It was something so special to him. So pure and a reminder of home.

The two of you grew closer with this shared chore, it didn’t quite feel like a chore anymore. As it was something the two of you looked forward to now.

Lucifer could feel himself falling. It was what he was prone to doing. But he couldn’t bring himself to be that vulnerable again.

Everytime he had fallen it left him bruised and lost. And if he lost you, he didn’t know if anyone would come pick him up again.

He could only get so lucky so many times.

He was currently looking at an open space near the center of the extensive garden. Where several paths met up in the middle of the garden. Where large trees formed a sort of dome shape protecting anything beneath them.

Lucifer hummed to himself, sleeves pulled up to his elbows. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, spreading the dirt on his fingertips to his face.

He glanced at how much space there was in the center of the garden. He always thought the center was bland. Sure you could lay down and look up towards Hell’s blood skies, but after centuries of seeing nothing but red above him, the sight got boring.

Besides, his creativity was bubbling in him. Begging for something new.

With a point of his finger, golden hues shot out, a large fountain forming in the middle of the gardens. It wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the trees above, but it did challenge them.

The white cement water fountain had edges to sit comfortably, three tiers, with little ducks on the middle layer spitting out water into the pool below.

Gold accents decorated each layer of the fountain. The pool to hold the water having a ruby red color, making the water appear like blood when it sat at the bottom.

Lucifer walked around the fountain, looking over every detail of his work. Making sure it was pristine and perfect.

He enjoyed it for the smallest moment, leaning his hands against the base of the fountain, leaning in to look at his reflection.

He then grew frustrated, not able to enjoy his own creation. It wasn’t good enough, not if it was made from his hands.

He growled, slapping his hand through the water, causing it to splash out. He gripped the edge of the fountain, gritting his teeth.

“Goodness..”

Your voice made him quite frankly jump into the air, falling onto his butt. His head snapped in your directions.

Your eyes were blown wide while you stared at Lucifer’s newest creation. Hands gripping a basket of freshly picked produce from the garden.

The king sits up, stuttering over himself as you move closer to get a better look at the fountain.

“You made this?”

You ask quietly, gently running your fingertips against the designs of the sides of the fountain, feeling the smooth detailing.

“Yeah I know.. it’s uh.. it’s-..”

“It’s beautiful.”

Lucifer visibly tenses at your words, looking up at you with eyes wide in shock.

He was dumbfounded, he looked like a child sitting on the ground just staring at you like this.

You look down at him, seeing his eyes wide and his jaw practically hanging on the floor. You can’t help but chuckle, deciding to take a seat next to him.

You set the basket between the two of you. Picking up a peach from the basket.

“The produce is growing lovely this year.”

You compliment the gardens hard work. Lucifer blinks out of his daydream, looking at the basket between the two of you.

His heart swells with joy. A sense of accomplishment that his creation, something he made, you thought it was beautiful.

His eyes trail to you. The light peering through the branches above you casting perfect rays on your skin.

Your company felt like home. It felt warm and comforting.

And in this light, in the garden, you looked just like…

“I love y-..”

Lucifer starts to speak before his mind can stop him. When you meet his gaze, his voice catches in his throat.

His face flushes golden colors when he caught himself almost daring to say that to you.

He lets out a comedic laugh, awkward and loud.

“..youuurrr COMPANY! Hah! Wow what a nice day! Gee golly, can’t imagine it any other way haha!”

You stare at him for a moment. Of course you were use to Lucifer’s occasional awkwardness behavior, but often times you had to read between the lines to understand what he truly meant/wanted to say.

You kind of got at what he was trying to say, your heart starting to beat fast in your chest at the thought of it.

But it wasn’t the right time. You knew Lucifer wasn’t ready.

You offer her a small smile, handing the fruit to Lucifer. You reach a hand up to wipe the dirt off his chin.

“I love it too. Any day with you.”

Lucifer’s face flushed gold once again, shoulders relaxing. He instinctively leaned into your touch, looking up at the fountain.

Patience. So patient with him.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin vox #hazbin #vox #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin adam #hazbin lucifer #hazbin x reader

[mihotose]

i think a muramasa/nikkari/kikkou 三騎 would either be the most boring fanservicey thing that to be clear i Would enjoy bc theyre three of my Guys but id still be a little disappointed that they went that route Or the deepest most heartfelt and real exploration of the three of them that would showcase their inner feelings and how they manifest those externally that like changes everyones perception of them

#gemitus #and to clarify i think it has to be a 三騎 like it cant be a rabufes it cant be a main show it absolutelycant be daienren #or at the very least something like utaawase #if theres going to Be a conversation like that id really prefer it was given the weight and the space and the privacy(?) of a 騎 #Which nikkari's utaawase rakugo had btw. but he was the only one with a solo scene #so idk if it was Because he was alone or if it was Because it was nikkari that it felt so heavy. both feed into each other tho ofc #ig it could be argued akashi's was solo since it didnt actually happen but nikkari didnt mention any other sword #whatever. i think that privacy is absolutely necessary bc 1) those three are incredibly externally motivated and so if they were to have #A Conversation they need to be alone so they dont get distracted #with muramasa especially his behaviour changes a lot depending on who hes with so there Cant be anybody else for him to truly be honest #we havent seen nikkari and muramasa together post kishou but i have to assume they got a lot more comfortable with each other #since their scene together in mihotose where muramasa was too awkward around nikkari #and so id like to think muramasa would be able to properly talk to him like he could with tonbo in kishou now #and again we dont see nikkari interacting with others outside of mihotose-gumi like at all. hes either with them or by himself #or passing pleasantries in eoeoa or whatever that dont really count bc theres no true insight on his relationship with others #he cares about them a Lot and does spend time with all of them but again idk if the passing pleasantries are reality or just #a function of tanki wherein he Does have deep friendships with them but there isnt the time to expand on that #either way we dont See him actually be real with anyone. hes kind and polite with them all and they get along well #so again something like this couldnt happen in a rabufes and especially not daienren bc they dont feel comfortable enough to be real around #too many people. theyd revert to their Outside personas which prevents A Conversation happening #i literally forgot my other points i got distracted but you get my gist. those three are so insane #and i feel there may be some pressure to put them together in either myu or sute now each have two #but it is such a dicey topic for me please dont do it unless youre Going to Do It </3 #wait hours later i remember my point #kishou muramasa Had one of those earthshattering conversations with tonbo. and i absolutely loved it #but since it was a main show it couldnt be a whole focus which i absolutely would want #like literally they were baring their souls and tsurumaru was like. trying to blend into the floor #i also mean privacy in the sense of. is the audience intruding. and in the case of kishou maybe if you arent interested in muramasa-ha #theyre airing their feelings to people who dont care? or something. whereas if it were a 三騎 it would absolutely be people wjo cared enough #tkrb

[sarahsartistportfolio]

SAGAU: A Rumor Spreads

Forewarns: Female reader, real self indulgent shit, not cult au, reader is a virgin, Kazuha having a bittt of a corruption kink, Wanderer having dubious intentions, this bit isn't 18+ but the following chapters will be, Cyno on his knees for us👀, Xiao yearning hard,

AO3

Kazuha - Cyno - Xiao - Heizou - Zhongli - Childe - Wanderer

“Ei I’m thinking of planning a girls only getaway at an Inazuma hot springs? Would you and Yae Miko like to help me out?” 

The two are immediately beaming and receptive to the idea. Any chance for you to spend more time in Inazuma is quickly snatched up. As you sit with the two lovely ladies, planning out who to invite, where to host the outing, you explain to them that you’d rather keep this event private. If word got around(especially to the other nations) that you were holding an exclusive get together in Inazuma(at an hot springs no less) you’re afraid some nosy guests might try to peep in on the conversation. The two swear to you they’ll keep their lips shut but as your invites go out rumors just tend to spread. Now every woman in the nation of eternity would love to attend this private get away, just to get an opportunity to speak to you their goddess one on one. And of course there are those with a little more devious intentions of seeing their beloved goddess in such an exposed state. 

Oh and of course once the word gets around to the boys, the absolute disappointment on their faces plus the swirling curiosity. A trip with just the girls? What will you speak about that you don't want any male ears to hear? Is it about them? Are you going to speak about them in private?

(Heizou not so subtly asking Sara what was said on this trip. Thoma sneakily listens in to conversations any of the women have on the estate that even mention your name. Itto loudly and desperately begging Shinobu to tell him where you are holding this outing so he can just, you know, not subtly spy on your conversations.) 

Despite the rumors still floating around, you follow through with this little getaway plan. With extra reassurance from Yae Miko that if she catches any peeping toms she'll be sure to zap them. 

And despite some of the girls being more nervous to be so up close and personal with you, others are just jumping at the chance to see you so laid back and vulnerable. And the steam from the hot springs just seems to melt away your walls, as the night goes on you find the conversation drifting to…romance. You tell Yae Miko how you love to write sappy cheesy romance novels and she’s more than happy to give some of your rough drafts a read. You playfully start to run your hands through Kirara’s damp hair just to hear her purr and now suddenly Yoimiya is asking “Me next! Me next!”

It isn't until you sheepishly say “Ah well despite writing about romance a lot I’ve never actually been in love or slept with anybody.” that an audible pause washes over the group. The deer scare making a loud echoing “clink”.

Now they all begin to coo and question you. 

“There’s no way no one hasn’t fallen head over heels for your Grace yet?! You must be like thousands of years old, surely you’ve stolen someone’s heart” Yomiya loudly proclaims.

“Aww so you’re saving yourself for your one true love, how cute.” Yae Miko insinuated.

“When you say it out loud its embarrassing-”

“Has anyone caught your eye yet your Grace?” Sara asks a bit too calmly as she and Ei eye you down with anticipation. 

The girls continue to grill you with nosy questions “What’s your ideal type?” “Do you prefer men or women more?” 

And you answer them with giddiness, happy to spill your life long dreams of getting married and having a family of your own one day.

“Ah, so you desire to get married and become a mother?...” Yae Miko vocalized aloud, wondering what this would mean for the whole of Tayvet. 

“I know it's a silly little dream of mine…”

“It's not silly at all, your Grace!” Yomiya cheerfully chimes in. “If you have your heart set on someone let me know and maybe I can set up a huge fireworks display that spells out I love you.” She giggles and Kirara nods in agreement.

Thanks but I don't really want anyone to play matchmaker…

The rest of the night goes on with laughter and drinks. The women feeling blessed to see this vulnerable side of you. You assume the conversations you had with the ladies will remain private but…it seems like someone has loose lips.

Soon days after the trip, rumors start to pop up.

“Ah didn't you hear our dear goddess is still a virgin, as pure as a lily kissing the sun’s rays for the first time.” “I aspire to have the same chastity as her.” “I heard she’s specifically looking for a husband because she wants to have kids.” “Surely if she chooses a man from our nation that means she’ll permanently reside here right?”

When you meet up with Venti again he’s a little more gleeful than usual. And when you part to say goodbye he leans in, eyes close but you abruptly stop him with a hand covering his mouth.

“What are you doing?”

“I wanted to kiss you before anyone else does.” He says with disappointed eyes, voice still muffled by your hand. When you allow him to speak more it's then that you know. Somebody in at that hot springs squealed. 

And there’s no stopping these nosy rumors once they start going. What happens when they reach the ear of...?

#my writing #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact fanfics #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #sagau #genshin sagau #sagau x reader #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #genshin kazuha #genshin cyno #genshin heizou #genshin wanderer #genshin zhongli #genshin childe #genshin xiao #female reader #genshin impact reader insert #scaramouche #xiao #zhongli #childe #cyno #heizou #kazuha

[nackrosor]

~Midnight Healing~

𝓢𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓖𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓡𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂 𝔁 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

[I highly recommend to put this song on repeat as background music. It will help set the mood.]

warnings/tags: 18+ smut, p*rn with feelings & plot, unexperienced reader, first kiss, first time, oral s*x (fem receiving), p in v, soft Ghost, slow dance, mutual pining, slight angst/comfort, Soap being the best mate, the team being supporting in their own way lmao, cap. price approved 👌🏻 summary: You're at the pub, enjoying a night out with your team. The soothing lulling music, the booze, Johnny's taunts and your own repressed feelings embolden you to invite Simon to join you in a slow dance. The dance leads to long overdue confessions which in turn lead to your first time together. word count: 12.5k. (longest one yet)

A special and huge thank you to my dear @magnoliabutters who has helped me SO MUCH. You've given me so many suggestions that inspired me to write the best possible version of this story. I probably would have given up halfway through if it wasn't for your support. I love you and appreciate you a lot. ♥️

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, elbows resting on the smooth surface of the counter with a thumb circling the cold rim of your half-full glass of bourbon. The soothing blues music playing in the background adds to your sense of calm, with notes vibrating through your limbs, echoing in your ribcage, and clearing your thoughts. You let yourself be lulled by the soft melancholy tune, quietly humming along and rocking your head in rhythm. 

Given your job as a task force officer, you rarely get a breather and a chance to enjoy a night out. It is a luxury for you and that is what makes it so special, a time to truly look forward to. Especially when you can share it with your brothers in arms, your family, not bonded by blood but by a profound feeling born through shared hardships and nurtured by trust, respect and understanding. One would imagine you'd prefer to spend your free nights alone or with different people, perhaps even a one-night lover, rather than with your coworkers, the very same guys you spend your entire days with, through sweat and tears, anger and frustration, and occasionally a moment of respite. This is exactly the reason why you wouldn’t dare unwind with anyone else; they are everything for you, the sole people you trust and you would gladly give your life for without hesitation. Why would you need anybody else? 

Seeing them loosen up for one night, just enough to treat themselves to a pint or a glass of whiskey is such the delight. You wouldn’t even need to chug a drink of your own to feel the tension leave your body, finally allowing yourself to relax. 

This time is no exception. Same place, same company, same feeling of being exactly where you need to be, of needing literally nothing else in the world.

"Enjoying yourself?" 

Soap's voice sounds clear in your ear and interrupts your blues-induced trance. A lazy smile greets you as you turn to look up at him. He settles down on the barstool next to you.

"Yeah… I love this music. It feels like a lullaby but instead of making me want to sleep, it makes me want to move, you know? "

"Sounds like you want to hit the dance floor! Care to give us a show?" 

"Wouldn't you like that!" 

You smirk at him, bumping your shoulder against his.

"Who wouldn’t?” he returns the nudge, playfully winking at you, “But I know someone who would particularly enjoy it, more than anybody else."

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. Every time you come to the pub, you can't avoid one or two, occasionally three, drunken brash males hitting on you or simply gluing their eyes on you from afar, never stopping for the entire time you're here. You'd think that being literally surrounded by four menacing - some more than others - muscular men would prevent anyone from ever looking your way twice, especially weak-minded misogynists who don't believe a woman could take care of herself… That clearly isn't the case. Go figure! These people have no sense of shame or… self-preservation. 

"What ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude is staring at me this time?" 

A chuckle escapes him. He shakes his head as he swirls the liquid in his glass before taking a sip. 

“No ugly old man’s ball sack-looking dude , just a possibly ugly dude.”

"Oh?" a wry smile takes form on your lips, "well, I could get behind that."

"He's been throwing some not-so-sneaky glances your way ever since we arrived."

"Yeah?”, you ask, taking a quick glance around the room. “Coordinates, Sergeant. Don’t leave me in the dark."

Soap's eyes glint mischievously as he subtly nods to your left, then raises his glass to his lips to take another sip and mask his grin. You follow the trajectory of his nod, gaze skimming the whole length of the counter, overlooking the serene faces of Gaz, Laswell, the captain, until it locks on a familiar pair of big dark eyes. The smirk on your lips immediately falters and your stomach flips. 

Simon is holding your gaze, seemingly unfazed, arms folded across his chest and muscles flexing under his black windbreaker. No matter how accustomed you are to seeing him in his casual attire, your heart always loses a beat whenever your eyes land on him. The way his skull balaclava hugs his face and the way the hood of his dark grey sweatshirt is all the way up, hiding his head, make his mesmerising eyes circled with black make-up even more striking and thus much more lethal to your poor weak heart. You’re so attracted to him, so infatuated… you’ve never felt this inexorable pull toward anyone before. It’s like a new form of gravity, so strong that you can’t even avert your gaze; it takes too much effort, like going against the laws of nature. 

Soap’s giggle draws you back from the trance. Your eyes dart around aimlessly for a moment before you whip around to glare at your friend.

“You’re a bastard.”

He shrugs innocently, that stupid grin of his still tugging at his lips.

"You saw it for yourself, he was staring."

"Yeah, 'cause he probably heard you or read your lips or… something."

"Right,” he says with a scoff, elongating the word. “Didn’t know superman was part of the 141…"

His mocking tone makes you roll your eyes. Grabbing your glass, you bring it to your lips and savour the sensation of the cool, sweet but strong liquid flowing down your throat. As you knock the empty glass back onto the counter, you catch a glimpse of Ghost. Fortunately, this time he appears to be engaged in discussion with Price, providing you with the green light that allows your wistful gaze to linger on him, unnoticed. 

"Well, you must admit that…”, you mutter almost to yourself, eyes reverently roaming his figure, “...if anyone had superpowers in our team, it would definitely be him." 

"Heh. You certainly look at him as if he already has them."

Johnny interrupts your reveries again and you shake your head, tearing your eyes away from Simon and trying to clear your mind in the process. "Stop it. He's just, he's-" 

"He's single, for all I know." 

The sergeant shrugs again with an innocent smile as you give him the stink-eye.

"You’re a menace ."

You poke him hard in the ribs, causing him to wince and almost spill his drink. You both can’t help but laugh.

“I swear if you told him or anyone anything… I'll strangle you in your sleep.”

“Mmm, so passionate, y/n. He’s gonna love that.”

You roll your eyes again, yet can't help but smile.

Soap is your best mate; you're closer to him than the rest of the squad, which is saying a lot given how close the team is. You may or may not have let your feelings for Simon slip during a private conversation one night at the HQ while you were a little tipsy, and he's been a little shit about it since then, unwilling to let you live it down. You know it's all in good fun, there's no malice in his words, but his taunts do nothing to help you keep your feelings under control. 

“You should tell him, by the way.”

“We’ve already talked about this, Johnny…”

“I just don’t understand why you’re keeping it to yourself. You scared of getting rejected?”

You shrug, your gaze fixed on the empty glass in front of you as you fidget with it absentmindedly. He struck a nerve. Taking the first step without being absolutely certain that your feelings are reciprocated and thus making a colossal blunder scares the shit out of you. Actually, the mere thought of taking a shot in the dark makes your stomach churn with dread. 

“Y/n, he would never turn you down. Never .”

“You don’t know that.”

Soap scoffs incredulously. “C’mon! You’ve seen the way he looks at you! There’s nothing PG-13 about it.”

He pauses for a moment waiting for your retort but when you don't give him any, he draws conspiratorially close to your ear. “Although, I guess you don’t get to hear what he says about you when it’s just us boys…”

You perk up, turning toward him with a curious and clearly hopeful look on your face. Does he know something you don’t? Or is he messing with you? You can never tell with Soap.

“W-what does he say?”

Soap grins victoriously, undoubtedly pleased with himself for catching you failing, yet again, to hide your stupid little crush. 

"Gave my word that I would keep my mouth shut..."

“Ugh!", you push him away with a hard smack on his arm, "you’re insufferable.”

“Go talk to him and find out on your own. In the unlikely case that what you fear the most happens, any of us smart boys would gladly take his place in your heart, love ."

You shake your head with a scoff, eyes drifting aimlessly to the other side of the room. Turns out, Johnny was trying to get under your skin, as per usual, however you can’t help but mull his words over.

Perhaps he's got a point, perhaps it is time to let it all out in the open and face the consequences , whatever they might be. Johnny said that Simon has talked about you with the guys. It might be nothing, but what if he really has let his own feelings slip during a conversation, just like when it happened to you with Soap? Or perhaps, he had a real heart to heart talk with his mates… 

You have your doubts, but then again why would Johnny mention that he spoke of you? Why would he try so hard to reassure you that Simon would never reject you? Why would he stress out the fact that he often gets caught staring at you? Could your friend be doing this solely for a laugh? No, Johnny is not that kind of person. He cares about you and he clearly understands how much you care about Simon. He would not give you a friendly push merely to watch you fall face first to the ground. There must be some truth behind his jokes and teasing… but are you ready to risk it all to find out? Being rejected isn't the only fear that prevents you from acting on your feelings... 

"Whatever.” You sigh at last, propping yourself up by pushing your palms against the edge of the counter. “I'm here to unwind, not get caught up in my head as usual. So… now, I’m going to dance. And, just to be clear, I'm not doing it for you or Simon or anybody other than myself."

The pointed look you give him makes Soap raise his hands in defeat, however it doesn't wipe that little smirk off his face. The glass grazes his curled up lips as he looks at you with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah… You'll thank me later.”

His words get lost in the rising bustle of the pub; the cacophony of voices and the clatter of glasses gets louder just as the music fills your ears the more you get away from the bar. The soothing tune comes out of two huge amps set at either side of an empty stage, and floods over you, the sole person standing in front of it. You feel a bit self-conscious at first, sensing everyone's eyes on you but you try your best to ignore them. Letting your eyes flutter shut, you focus solely on the music, allowing yourself to be transported by the slow lulling rhythm. 

Soon, you're swaying your hips in time, your feet picking up their own pattern. You don't care about how you're moving, how it may look; all you care about is letting go, setting yourself free, feeling the music pass through you, and being completely in the moment. You dance worry-free, entirely surrendering control of your body to the enthralling and sinuous voice of the electric guitar. Few things are more freeing than dancing like nobody’s watching…

The song comes to an end almost too quickly and so does the enchantment that has seized you. When you open your eyes, chancing a look around you, you immediately meet Simon’s stare. He's still sitting at the bar but now he's turned toward you, back to the polished wood of the counter, one elbow resting on its edge. Clearly he has been watching you the whole time, enjoying the show , as Soap said. You feel a thrill run through you. Perhaps it's the alcohol kicking in, perhaps those feelings pushed deep inside you are finally emerging to the surface. Or is it just the adrenaline of the dancing still holding control over your body? 

Regardless of the answer, you find yourself walking toward him; the initial notes of a new song matching your sultry and unhurried steps. He firmly holds your gaze, but you notice the shifting in his seat as you approach him with renewed confidence.

You stop when you’re right in front of him, a coy smile plays on your lips while you hold out your hand.

"Care to join me?" 

His eyes flicker to your extended palm then wander over your face, as if he's looking for a cue that would tell him whether you're joking or being serious.

"You're outta your mind, princess ."

You raise your eyebrow at the word 'princess'. He knows you don’t like to be called like that but he doesn't seem to care. He keeps using that stupid term, especially when he wants to reprimand you, putting you in your place or just to tease you and get under your skin. But there is something in the way he said it just now, an endearing nuance in his tone that combined with his thick accent makes you melt like chocolate.

"Why? You seemed really interested only a minute ago."

You tease him with a challenging look on your face while you nonchalantly tug down the zip of your biker jacket. After the dance you're feeling a bit flushed, you need to let your skin breathe. No other reason for uncovering your cleavage, right? Definitely not to draw his attention to the deep neckline of your dress. Of course not, why would you do that? 

"I was only-" 

You interrupt him, arms folding across your chest, drawing his eyes even more to the curves of your body. " Enjoying the show , right."

"No.” He counters quickly, his voice loud and clear even over the music. Doesn’t he sound a little nervous? Or are you simply imagining it? 

“I was just… glad to see this carefree side of you. It's a good look on you."

You stare into each other’s eyes, your heart thumping hard in your chest. You didn’t expect to hear him say that.

"Well…”, you bite your lip as you try to ease your racing heart, arms falling back to your sides, “...dancing is very freeing. You should try it."

"I don't think it would work for me."

"Why don't we find out?" 

Shivering just a little, you take another step forward. His head slightly cranes up so that he can keep his piercing gaze on yours. You move your hand on his wrist, fingers wrapping gently around it before giving a little pull in your direction.

"C'mon…", you give him a teasing smile as you step back, head nodding back to the space behind you, “...let’s go.”

Despite your pulling, Simon doesn’t budge a single inch, but you see him hesitate. You keep tugging at his wrist, stepping backwards, even attempting to pout, until he silently relents and stands up, letting you drag him toward the stage at last. You didn't expect him to give up. You thought you'd have to put much more effort into it, or that you'd have to be the one giving up in the end. You're genuinely surprised by the turn of events but you won't let that dent your spirit now. You've just started playing with fire and you can't help but feel the thrill of it, the excitement lighting up inside of you. 

You stop when you reach the spot you previously made your own during your solo dance and turn around to face him. He stands there, tall and motionless, the hood of his sweatshirt still on; he looks so out of place on the dance floor, the sight makes you chuckle.

"Don't worry Si, nobody would dare judge you."

"I don't care about that."

"No?"

With a smile on your face, a gaze fixed on him, you start to sway your hips in sync again. His eyes immediately flicker down to take in your movements. He doesn’t seem to care about the fact that he looks like a freaking pole, standing so still in front of you, not moving even one muscle. His whole focus is on you and he seems to particularly enjoy being able to watch you from the best seat in the house.

“You could move your shoulders a little bit, you know? Or even just nod your head in time with the music.”

It’s so evident that he doesn’t know what to do with his body, where to even begin. You almost feel guilty of having dragged him there, of putting him on the spot.

“Here, follow my steps.”

You pick up a simple left-to-right footwork, following the slow but steady rhythm of the drums and encourage Ghost to mirror your motions with a nod and a gentle smile. He studies you, eyes observing your body attentively, picking up every little movement you make. 

He appears quite stiff as he attempts to follow along; his bulky body doesn't seem keen to make him look as graceful on the dancefloor as it does on the battlefield. But he's trying at least, and quickly getting the hang of it.

“That’s it! You’re not half bad, Si!” 

A soft chuckle escapes you as you bite your bottom lip. Seeing him dance - or try to - makes you oddly giddy, euphoric even. It's just such a rare and bizarre thing to see that you can't help but smile wide and enjoy the moment to the fullest.

Raising your arms in the air, you swing your hips and bend your knees as you lower your body to the ground, only to raise up again, twisting your curves like a snake. The thrill of his probing stare piercing you causes you to shudder; his eyes are unwavering, admiring your every move with utmost devotion. Having his undivided attention makes you feel alive, it makes you feel special and bold. 

You take a step closer and reach out to grab both of his hands in yours, your movements mellowing to fit his laid-back rocking. His calloused hands are surprisingly soft and warm as they wrap perfectly around yours, like matching pieces of a puzzle; his touch feels comforting, stable, safe. As you look up at him, eyes locking once again, you feel your heart pound rapidly in your chest. A small smile takes form on your lips to mask the turmoil rising within you.

“This feels… nice, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

Your heart soars upon hearing his answer, smile widening.

“I didn't know you could dance."

"I can't dance”, you correct him with a light chuckle, “I simply enjoy moving my body to the music."

"Never seen you do that before."

"Well, most of you guys don't even like listening to music, so I only get to do it when I'm on my own… which is a rare occurrence since apparently you babies can’t leave me alone for more than one minute."

You squeeze his hands playfully, a cheeky grin playing on your face. You notice his eyes crinkle lightly in response.

"You can use my office, if you want. There's enough room to… move around."

You let out a hearty laugh, head shaking softly. Your eyes lower to the floor for a moment, monitoring the way both your feet move perfectly in sync and at the same time picturing the silly image in your mind.

"You gonna sit at your desk, grumbling over your paperwork while, with music blasting in my ears, I dance like nobody’s watching right in front of you?" 

"Why not,” he says with a shrug.

His voice doesn’t betray his collected demeanour, but you know he’s smiling underneath that mask.

"Well, for one…”, you raise one eyebrow, giving him a knowing look, “I think it would get pretty distracting, rather quickly." You bring your joined hands to the level of your eyes and his chest, slowly interlacing your fingers with his. The muscles of his arms seem to tense for a moment.

"...Fair enough."

"Secondly…”, you trail off, eyes flickering up to meet his serious stare, voice losing a bit of its jovial nuance, “...people might start talking."

"Who cares."

His remark is curt and blunt, and it takes you a bit by surprise. He actually sounds as though he wouldn't care less if your coworkers were to start spreading rumours about you two possibly being... intimate. Or perhaps you're merely grasping at straws. After all, you're talking about dancing. Nothing more, right? 

"You’re telling me that you wouldn’t care what the others may think or say?" your tone is clearly hesitant this time, vulnerable even, eyes frantically searching his, "...watching us dance like this? Being this close?"

He keeps silent for a long moment, gaze boring into yours. His hands then pull on your wrists, tugging you closer to him. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, while your hands fly onto his chest for support as a surprised gasp escapes your mouth.

“How could I give a crap about them or what they think… when I have you here in my arms?”

His straightforward statement catches you off-guard, causing you to stumble upon your feet. It feels like the tables have turned. Your flirtatiousness made him take the bait and now you’re the one who doesn’t know how to act. Your boldness instantly vanishes, it’s as if you never had it in you in the first place. A tardy nervous chuckle slips out of you as you struggle to regain your synced rocking.

“You must’ve had a drink too many, huh Si?”

“Never been more lucid in my life.”

You stare deeply into his eyes, a wild-eyed look on your face, as he firmly holds your gaze. Tension soaks the air around you, you can sense it getting thicker and thicker. Suddenly, there's not a single soul in the pub but you two. Your eyes locked, bodies swaying gently together, lightly brushing against one another. Your heart thumps forcefully against your chest. 

[ 2:26 min .]

… 

I just want to get your head back, baby

Give you all the love I got, for sure

So, baby, if you've got that feeling

You know I wanna give you that midnight healing

Oh, I just want to make love to you all night long

… 

Perhaps it's merely your perception, but the music appears to get louder. The song’s lyrics are now distinctly clear; they echo in your head, tickling your mind like a subtle hint intended specifically for you.

Returning your attention to Simon, you detect a strange glint in his eyes. Did he receive the hint as well? The way his grasp on your waist tightens, palms roving over your sides and drawing you even closer to him, seems to confirm your supposition.

You both seem to lean forward, attracted like magnets, until your faces are merely inches away. The music deafens, slowly making its way into the background, providing the perfect mood for this special moment. Neither of you says a word, instead you let your eyes speak for themselves. Everything around you seems to blur into a negligible mist. Simon has you hypnotised, just as the music did, with the intensity of his gaze and the warmth of his touch. As one of his hands slides up to your neck, fingers grazing the soft hollow area just above your pulse point, a sharp shiver travels up your spine. 

The room spins around you. All of a sudden, your heart pounds hard against your chest and in your ears. You sway on your feet with fingers tugging on his jacket to keep your balance. His hands move quickly to your back, to support your body as you shift your weight on him for a moment before catching yourself. You feel hot, dizzy, and out of breath. 

"Y/n?" 

"J-just give me a moment, will you?" You say rather harshly, unable to keep the rising panic and tension out of your voice.

His concerned gaze is the last thing you see before you abruptly pull away and dash back towards the counter, mind buzzing, chest tightening. You notice Soap’s smile drop into a puzzling look as he watches you rush over but before he can ask you anything, you hear Gaz's hesitant voice coming from behind you. 

"What's going on?" 

You throw a quick glance over your shoulder, instantly meeting his perplexed look. Your actions seem to have drawn the attention of Price and Laswell, too; you find both of their gazes set on you. 

You struggle to take deep breaths, your eyes darting aimlessly from one friendly face to another while your hands clutch around the table edges, fingertips turning white. It takes all your efforts to not raise your gaze toward the dance floor and rest it on the man still standing exactly where you have just left him. 

"Nothing! It's all going great!" 

Your voice comes out higher pitched than normal but you try to mask it with the most convincing smile you can muster. 

You turn toward Johnny before you can witness the other's reactions or give them time to question your words. Your friend pierces you with a questioning look that doesn't leave room for lies. 

"I-I think I'm gonna pass out."

He immediately reaches out to place a comforting hand on your arm as he slides his freshly refilled glass towards you.

"You ok? What happened?" 

Your hand shakes as you grab the drink. You rub it to your forehead, cheeks, and neck before moving it to your lips. The cool sensation of the glass against your feverish skin seems to ease your panic, even if only a little. You focus completely on the cold liquid scorching down your throat as you take a long sip. 

You gasp, pulling from the rim of the glass. "Nothing. It's just-" you take another deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut,"...it felt all-too real, all-too quickly, I guess. I'm not entirely sure. I panicked."

"Y/n," he coos softly, gently squeezing your arm, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to-" 

"But that's the point! I want it! We were so close, I mean… you saw it! If it wasn't for the mask, I’m pretty sure he would’ve leaned in for a kiss. I-I felt my heart was about to burst!” The words fall out of your mouth in a nervous rambling. “I wanted to close the distance so bad… that I fucking ran away." A deprecating chuckle escapes you, eyes rolling in disbelief. "I'm so fucking stupid!" 

Johnny squeezes your shoulder again, offering you a genuine smile.

"You are not stupid, y/n... Well, maybe just a little bit." He grins in response to your not-so-convincing glare. "Could a little more privacy help you feel better? You know there are rooms upstairs, you could always go there if you want to..."

You watch as his hand disappears inside his jacket and reappears a moment later, holding a small silver key between his fingers. He holds it out to you and you take it from him mindlessly.

Soap laughs as he detects the mute query in your stunned expression.

"I took it earlier thinking I might get lucky and use it for myself, but it looks like I’m not the lucky one tonight…"

Your gaze darts from your friend's face to the key, then back to him. Your heart starts racing again as the true meaning that small metallic object holds hits you like an unforeseen gunshot to the chest. You let out a loud groan, your hands flying to your face to hide your grimace.

"What is it now?"

"Johnny...", his name falls out of your lips in a sing-songy cry, barely audible above the music and chatter. Lips quivering both in embarrassment and fear for the confession you’re about to make. With a whisper, you share, "I've never been with anyone before... I've never even kissed anyone." You chance a look at your friend through your fingers. "What if I make a fool out of myself in front of Simon? Hell, who am I kidding? I-I already have!"

The astonished expression on Soap's face only aggravates your growing anxiety.

"Creeping Jesus! Y/n… I thought you… uhm, it’s okay-," he awkwardly shifts in his seat, his mouth opening and shutting without emitting a single sound, at least not one that you can hear. His gaze abruptly darts to the side, focusing on something far over your shoulder before moving back to rest on you with a barely concealed alarm. "Ok, take a deep breath, he's coming over."

You only have time to curse under your breath and pull your hands away from your face before you feel a presence behind you that makes every hair on your body stand on end.

When you hear your name being called, you turn warily to face the man standing by your side, stomach twisting as you meet his inquisitive stare. You believe you can also see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, too. 

"Simon, I'm… I'm-"

"She needed some fuel, L.T.!" Soap rushes to your aid, grinning up at Ghost and smacking him on the arm - a little too hard. "She's all good now… right, y/n?" 

He gives you a quizzical look, as if he's asking whether you're ready to handle the situation on your own or if you need more time; at least, that's what you believe he’s trying to convey.

You respond with a feeble nod before your gaze shifts to Simon. You offer him your glass. "A sip?"

He stares at you intently, seemingly studying your face, his expression now unreadable. 

"No."

"A-alright, more for me..." you fake a smile and then guzzle the drink all in one go. You slam the empty glass on the counter as you suck air through your teeth, grimacing at the piercing sensation of the scorching liquor spreading inside your system. Your gaze is drawn to Soap's, and you give him a somewhat confident smile, which he returns with a little wink.

Your hand then moves on its own accord, finding Ghost's large palm and interlacing your fingers with his; the contact sends a chill up your spine. When you look up at him, a ghost of a smile appears on your lips. You're not sure what you're doing or what's going to happen, but you try not to second-guess yourself too much and risk screwing up for the second time in a row.

Taking a step back, away from the counter, you beckon him to follow you.

"Come with me…"

He does not resist your pull. He does not hesitate for even one second. He trails behind you as you lead him up the stairs and to the second floor. 

Neither of you dare utter a single word as you walk through the corridor and come to a door that matches the number on the key Soap gave you. You don't dare glance at him as you walk in, taking in the dim tavern-like atmosphere of the tiny bedroom. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the king size bed in the centre, which takes up most of the space. Your mouth goes dry. You wonder what Simon might be thinking, if the same thoughts that course through your mind are pestering him as well. 

The sound of the door being closed startles you and makes you whirl around. Your gaze immediately captures his, and you gulp under his piercing stare.

With slow heavy steps that mismatch your thundering heartbeat, he walks over to you, stopping only when he’s towering right over you, standing tall in all his imposing height. You keep your gaze levelled in front of you, unable to meet his eyes, however his fingers curl under your chin and nudge your head up, forcing you to face him. 

" Princess… " he murmurs in a low breathy tone, his voice tinged with something akin to irritation, “why are you playing little games with me?”

Your stomach flips again. Of course he’d assume you’ve been messing with him, leading him on; it’s only fair considering the odd behaviour you’ve had all night. And probably not just tonight. 

“I’m not, trust me…”

He pauses for a brief moment, his keen eyes studying your face, possibly looking for proof of your sincerity.

"You brought me here. Why ?" 

"I-I don't know…"

"You don't know?" 

You mentally reprimand yourself for your dumb answer and shake your head in an attempt to dissipate the haze that has settled over your mind.

"I mean, I know why, but-" you try to swallow but your throat is dry. The intensity of his dark eyes boring into yours causes you to stutter, "f-fuck Si, you make me so nervous I can't even think straight!"

Your voice comes out louder than intended and soaked with frustration. Your hand moves on his wrist, tugging at it to pry yourself free from his grasp, but his hold on you does not relent.

"You were dancing for all the pub to see until a minute ago, and I make you nervous?" 

"Yes! Of course! I don't give a damn about those strangers! Why should I? Besides that's not the point! You make me nervous because you are... you are-" 

You shake your head again as you let out a shuddering breath, your gaze averted from his. You know you can't really back down now. You have to tell him the truth but it's damn hard to find the right words to express exactly how you feel. And more than that, to finally find the courage to say them.

You feel like your heart is on the verge of bursting out of your chest.

"You’re someone I really care about, Simon."

His fingers squeeze your chin, urging you to look up, and when you do you notice that his eyes have softened. 

“That made you panic?”

You give him a lopsided smile, but a short-lived one, for your anxieties come tumbling back, slithering into your mind and compelling you to address them, once and for all.

"T-There's something else..."

You want to tell him that you've never been with a man before, that you've never even had your first kiss yet, and that the thought of him, the only man you’ve ever loved, desired , possibly being your first, makes you incredibly nervous and self-conscious. You really want to tell him everything and free yourself of this burden but your voice gets stuck in your throat and you gape up at him, feeling your stomach churn.

Simon waits patiently for you to speak up, his fingers still holding your chin. The soft look he offers you seems to ease your tension a little. 

"I have…”, you draw a sharp breath, "...no experience in this field , if you catch my drift...”. You mutter those few words in a small voice as your face twists into a grimace. 

Your confession hangs in the air for what feels like eternity, your heart seems to have stopped beating altogether. 

"I know."

“Wha-?!”

You are completely thrown off by his matter-of-fact tone.

"H-how? Why-" you stutter, mouth gaping, your eyes wide. How could he know? You've never told anybody, not until a few minutes ago. But he couldn't have heard you, could he? That would be impossible. 

"Is it really so fucking obvious?" 

"No.” 

In stark contrast to yours, his voice sounds cool and collected. His fingers graze your skin as they move up from your chin to your cheek. "I figured you had no idea how this worked when suddenly you’re lacking your usual confidence and turning into a bloody school-girl. It threw me off at first. I thought you didn’t want this…”

" Hell…”, your head slowly shakes in disbelief, eyes darting to the side. 

Suddenly you don’t know if you should feel relieved, ashamed or sorry for it all. Your own body chooses for you, opting for an odd mix of the three; shoulders slumping, mind buzzing, you stare into space while his words sink in. 

So he's been into you the whole time but your mixed signals, caused by your stupid anxieties, have made it look like you were not into him? Or that you were just playing with him? Seriously? What kind of shitty B-rated rom com is this? 

" So , you've never been held by a man.” Simon’s calm voice draws you back to the moment, his fingers taking hold of your chin once again. “ Blimey . Is that what makes you so nervous?" 

"Is it really not a problem for you?" you ask out of genuine curiosity, brows furrowing as your eyes meet his.

Simon’s scoff almost turns into a hearty laugh as he holds your gaze, eyes crinkling.

"No man has ever put their filthy hands on you and I should be - what? Sad? Disappointed? For God's sake, princess..."

He shakes his head, fingertips taking better hold of your jaw as he leans down.

“You and your worries…” His tone is almost scolding but playfully so, eyes studying every feature of your face. “Stop thinking so much, you numpty . It’s not good for you.”

“Tell me something I don’t know…”, you let out a long shuddering breath, in an attempt to let go of the lingering worry still tightening your throat, "I just… don't want to fuck this up, Si. You mean too much to me..."

He hums softly. 

Silence engulfs you. A silence tinged with renewed tension. Not the type of tension that fuels your anxieties but the kind that makes you warm inside. Soft distant notes coming from downstairs fill the room, washing over you in a soothing yet electric wave, reminding you of the dance you shared, of how close you were and the desire that was rising, burning hot, inside of you. 

Just like a magnet the attraction between you and Simon grows. 

His free hand moves on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him and just like before, out of instinct, your hands land on his chest. He holds your chin high, his gaze piercing straight to your heart.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" 

You bite your lip, surprised by his forwardness, a nervous giggle shaking through you. "What kind of question is that-"

"Do you want me to kiss you, princess?" 

He asks a second time with a more serious tone that makes your nervous giddiness fade. Looking deep into his eyes, you take a long breath to ease your racing heart, or at least attempt to.

"Y-yeah, I want you to kiss me."

His hand moves over yours resting on his chest, and guides it up to his neck. 

"Pull up my mask, uncover my mouth. Only my mouth."

You stop breathing altogether, heart jumping in your throat. 

"Y-You want me to do it?" 

"Aye."

Touching his mask, pulling it up to uncover his face feels like such an intimate gesture… Your eyes roam reverently over his newly uncovered skin as your fingers gently peel up the fabric of his balaclava, until his mouth is completely exposed to your sight and you can let your adoring gaze truly linger for the first time. You’ve caught glimpses of his face before, his chin looking vaguely familiar for the few times you’ve seen Simon drink or eat in front of you and the team. But that’s all it has ever been: glimpses. You’ve never been allowed to study his clean-shaved chin and alluring mouth like you are now, from so up close.

"You have pretty lips…"

Your comment slips out of your mouth before your mind could register it and you grimace out of embarrassment. "Uh, sorry, that was-" 

Words die on your tongue as soon as you feel his hand firmly squeeze your jaw. Your eyes immediately dart to his, which bore into yours. Slowly - breathtakingly slow, he draws closer until his lips hover inches away from yours and you can feel his hot breath on your skin. You swallow dry. In a heartbeat he closes the distance, kissing you gently, softly but with a clear, barely-withheld passion. 

You respond to the kiss after a moment of stun. The contact of his lips on yours feels like a soft dream at first, one that seizes your mind in a haze and makes you walk on cloud nine, and then grows in force, as if Simon can't contain his desire any longer.

Your lips part and his tongue slips into your hot mouth, eager to explore this new territory. You moan in the kiss and meet him in a twisting dance of control. 

Every move comes surprisingly natural to you, as if you’ve done this a million times before.

His hand travels down from your back to your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessive squeeze, then slips even lower to lift your short black dress at its edges and tug it upward just enough to expose the back of your thighs. He doesn't waste time when moving his hand onto that newly uncovered area, kneading the tight flesh there as he bends forward, causing you to arch your back and latch your hands around his neck. Bodies tucking closer. 

You take a deep breath as you slightly pull away, lips still grazing his, your hot breaths merging together. 

All the words you thought would play out in your head in such an important moment are now nowhere to be found. Instead, it’s all just a feeling of rightness between you and him. None of your fantasies could have ever prepared you for a feeling so… intoxicated. 

"Simon…", you usher in a barely audible whisper, slipping your hand under his jacket and feeling his muscles tense under your wandering touch. His lust clouded eyes search yours, his chest heaving hard, hands pressing against you and relenting a second later, as if he’s trying to restrain himself. 

"...I want you to be my first."

A guttural sound comes out of his mouth at your words, his fingers spread again on your ass cheek, squeezing it hard and causing you to whimper. His gaze seems to get darker and he draws closer once more, teeth grazing your bottom lip, nibbling at it. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Positive."

And just like that, as if a barrier has been finally lifted, his lips crush onto yours once more but harder, hungrier than the first time. In one swift motion he yanks the biker jacket off your shoulders and tosses it on the floor. You instantly match his eagerness, returning the favour; his own windbreaker dropping at your feet. 

Before your mind can register what’s happening, you find yourself back against the wall, your shoulder blades hitting the hard surface in an audible thud. You feel your guts twist as heat starts to pool in your belly. 

Your lips are still connected, unwilling to separate. His hands dive on your hips, the thin fabric of your flared dress creases under his ravenous groping. One hand slides down, curling up the hem and slipping underneath, meeting the side of your bare upper thigh. His palm closes around it, firmly, possessively as he lifts your leg up to his hip; you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to find a red mark on your skin later, nor would you be displeased. You moan in his mouth in response and let your own hands wander on his body, blindly scanning the muscles of his torso from above his sweatshirt, only to slide lower and lower, until you find its edges and curl them up. Your fingers sneak under the fabric, meeting the smooth skin of his abdomen; his muscles tense up at the teasing contact. Your palms climb up his abs, his pecks, committing the tactile sensation of every inch of his taut torso to memory. 

As you both pull away, gasping for air, you let your eyes fall to where your hands disappear under his clothes; you want to look at him, feast your hungry eyes on his naked body but before you can do it yourself, Simon grabs the hem of his sweatshirt and pulls it off his head, adding it to the rest of your discarded clothes. However, he doesn’t give you time to take his bare chest in, for he grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up like you weigh nothing at all, walks you over to the bed and drops you on the mattress. 

Only at this moment are you allowed to let your eyes wander over the muscles of his torso, probably the only part of his body you've already had the pleasure of seeing in the past, although mostly in not so pleasant times, when he needed to be patched up. This time it's totally different. Your hungry gaze devours every inch of him, glinting in twisted pleasure when it meets the scars that you remember having tended to yourself. 

You're too eager to touch him again to keep laying there waiting. Quickly throwing your boots off the side of the bed, you crawl on your knees toward him, hands latching on the inseam of his trousers to unzip them. In the meantime he yanks his own boots off his feet and out of the way, with eyes glued to yours. 

When you're done with his zip, before you can tug his jeans down, he pushes you back on the mattress and joins you on the bed, settling himself on top of your body, knees resting at either side of your legs. 

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time.”

The way his raspy voice breaks a little as he ushers his confession makes your stomach twist.

“Do w-what, exactly?”

His hands move on your collarbone, peeling the thin straps of your dress and your bra off your shoulders. You allow him to tug them down your chest as you look up at him with nothing but unyielding passion. His eyes wander over your freshly uncovered breasts and you can see his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, jaw setting hard. 

He takes a moment to answer, staring down at you, perhaps struggling to give voice to something that has been swirling against the recesses of his mind for quite some time. 

“Push you on a bed, pin your body under mine and… taste you.”

A sharp shiver runs up your spine at his words, heart skipping a beat. 

One of his palms closes around your breast, firmly squeezing the soft flesh, while the other lifts the skirt of your dress up to your stomach. Without missing a beat he bends down beneath your thighs and presses his mouth against your panties, just above your lower belly. 

“Oh!”

Your hips buck up on their own at the sudden stomach-churning contact. His free hand moves to rest on your upper thigh, pressing your body back against the mattress. 

"This is uncharted territory, innit?"

"I-It is, Lieutenant…", you match his playful tone even though your voice is but a mere whisper, struggling to get out in between your ragged breaths, "...nobody has yet claimed that path..."

You hear him hum in appreciation and you feel his voice too, vibrating against your core.

"Don't mind if I do."

You take a sharp breath as you feel his lips press against you again, only lower this time, teasing your most sensitive part. The thin fabric of your underwear does nothing to muffle the intense touch and yet the obstacle irritates you, you want it out of the way and Simon seems to share your feelings. Both his hands move on your hips, grabbing the hem of your panties and sliding them down and off your legs. A thrill curses through your whole body at the sight of your undies being tucked inside the back pocket of his jeans. Simon’s eyes crinkle lightly as they watch your reaction, lips curving into a smirk.

You don’t really care about them now, whether he’s planning on returning them or making you walk out of here butt naked. All your attention is drawn to the cool breath blowing against your delicate skin, turning hot only a second later as Simon leans closer, until you feel his lips meet your heat and cause you to whimper. The cloth of his mask grazing against your folds only adds to the stimulating touch.

His hot tongue swipes up your core once, twice, with hands spreading you wider for him to reach every inch of you. Another slow stripe from your entrance up to your clitoris and your body shakes in ecstasy. He latches his lips to you and starts to suck hard, swirling his tongue around your nub and dragging it up and down along your wetness. 

He said it. He wanted to taste you. And that is exactly what he’s doing, with no hesitation whatsoever, nor waste of time. You’re already a quivering mess beneath him, pathetic whines falling from your parted lips, hands closing in fists as fingers dig into the sheets. 

“F-Fuck, Simon…”

You feel his soft chuckle against you; it drives you mad. 

He shifts from his position, lips pulling away as he grabs the back of your thighs to tug you closer and pin your spread legs to your stomach. You chance a look at him through your heavy lidded eyes. His lips and chin are wet with your juices, the sight ignites a fire inside you that you’ve never felt before. The way you’re spread for him, your privateness so thoroughly exposed for the first time in your life… you thought that you’d be embarrassed, that you’d be awfully shy to show yourself like this, especially to him. You do sense a faint tightness in your stomach and a warmth spreading in your face, yet there’s another feeling prevailing over the rest. A feeling that surges from Simon himself; the way he leans back down, hands travelling up your body to grab your breasts, the way he’s devouring you like a starved man, the way he’s taking care of you, making sure to pleasure you, to make you feel good… It allows no room for awkwardness or discomfort, only a warm pervasive and soothing feeling of pure care and devotion to wash over you and envelope you whole. 

The lewd sound of his mouth working against you has long prevailed over the music and it only seems to grow in tone the more the tightening of the heat in your belly grows in intensity. You feel it coming, the high is close. Your hands fly toward him, landing on his head. You grab his mask, tug at it, feeling it slip from its place, then you freeze abruptly, as soon as you realise what you’re doing. You look down again, instantly meeting Simon’s hard stare. A strange glint passes over his eyes; he seems to ponder something for a moment then come to a final decision. In a few dismissive moves, he pulls away from you, grabs the dark fabric curled under his nose and yanks it off his head, throwing it carelessly on the floor. 

Your heart is sent into a frenzy. It no longer knows what to do; whether it should keep thundering in your heart for the intense and building pleasure or stopping altogether for the shock of what you have just witnessed. Your wide eyes wander toward him, curious and hesitant at the same time but they only catch a glimpse of his bare face before he disappears between your legs once again, latching his mouth on you even more greedily than before, possibly feeling more free in his movements without the mask impediment. You want to watch him, stare at him as he drives you to heaven but your head falls back on the mattress, eyes squeezing shut and back arching sharply as a wave of skin-crawling chills sets your entire body aflame. It is nothing like the orgasms you’ve had before, when you touch yourself. This is a new feeling; it’s intense, it goes to your head, it makes you dizzy and wordless. It makes you feel loved. 

Simon keeps moving against you, tongue curling at your entrance, gathering up the fruits of his hard work. His hands still pinning your thighs close to your stomach, fingers digging in your soft flesh as he eases your shakes. 

Your mind is still struggling to come out of the haze when your hand blindly travels down in search of him. Fingers tug at his short locks of hair, urging him to come up to meet you. He lingers a moment longer to press a soft kiss on your swollen bundle of nerves, then on your lower belly and between your breasts as he makes his ascent. Finally he faces you, eyes meeting again. 

If your body wasn't already heavily overwhelmed, the sight of his beautiful sharp features would send all your senses into overdrive. 

He looks at you so openly, dark eyes twinkling with adoration and what you can only read as vulnerability, that you find yourself unsure of how to act. 

Would this special moment turn awkward if you were to make a comment on his looks? You wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Removing his mask must take such an effort… you don’t want to risk making this more stressful for him. You opt for keeping your comments to yourself, at least for now. 

Instead, you let your hand rest on his face, caressing his skin, softly, slowly, as if it’s the most fragile thing in the world and you have to handle it with utmost care. You hope that by doing this you can show him and reassure him that everything is ok, nothing has changed, surely not for the worse. That you deeply appreciate the fact that he decided to let his guards down, to be vulnerable with you. That’s what you try to convey with your adoring gaze and your tender touch, and you sincerely hope it reaches him.

When you feel him lean into your touch, a content smile spreads on your face and you instinctively tilt your head up, capturing his damp lips in a passionate kiss that instantly rekindles the desire inside of you. Simon matches your eagerness, hands travelling down your body to caress, grab, squeeze, grope and tease anything he finds on his path. You do the same, mapping his muscular torso, skimming your fingers down to his navel. 

For a moment, only a moment, you hesitate to go lower as you get caught up in your head, worries threatening to hold you back again, but the way he interrupts the contact of your lips to place a trail of sloppy kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck makes your worries fade again and you slip your hand inside his unzipped jeans. You relish in hearing the guttural sound that rewards your action; it compels you to rub your hand over his boxers with more confidence, feeling his bulge with a light squeeze.

Simon hastily brings his hand to his waistband and tugs it down, his boxers receive the same treatment. Your hand now closes around his erection, giving it a few tentative strokes. He draws a sharp breath.

“ Bloody hell , princess…”

He mutters in the crook of your neck and you shiver. His reaction encourages you to increase the vigour of your movements.

“Is this ok?”

He hums softly, hips starting to buck in sync with your hand. He lets you fondle him, drag your fingers on the tip wet with precum, make him moan in pleasure as your hold around his girth tightens… then he pulls away, grabs your hand and brings it to his lips for a soft peck on its back.

You follow his movements, eyes drawn to his lips then flickering down to his cock. By the touch you assumed it was pretty big and the sight only confirms your thoughts but it shocks you anyway.

You hear him huff a laugh through his nose.

“Do you think you can take me, mh?”

Your eyes dart back to his face, meeting his amused look.

“I don’t know…”, you bite your lips, the angles of your mouth curling up in a playful smirk, “but I sure as hell ain’t gonna back down from a challenge.”

Your heart soars with joy seeing his face crack into a pleasantly surprised expression, a chuckle coming out of his mouth.

“Good girl.”

He pins you with his mesmerising gaze, bending down on you again. He leans on the side, toward the bedside table. You crane your neck to watch. His hand slips into a black smoking-bowl and comes back with a small metallic sachet. Protection. Of course. This place is well-equipped. Your curious eyes keep following his movements as he takes the condom and secures it onto his throbbing erection. You swallow as his gaze moves back on your face, your stomach starts churning again. He seems to sense your nervousness and leans down, hand grabbing your jaw, eyes piercing right into yours.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be gentle.”

You nod with a smile, then take a deep breath.

“It’s okay. I trust you, Si.”

He leans in for a quick soft kiss, hand guiding his erection between your legs, tip rubbing against your slit to coat it in your wetness. Your whole body tingles in anticipation. 

“Stop me anytime if you need to.”

He waits for your confirmation before he slides in, bit by bit, easing you to the intrusion. An instant groan comes out of his mouth.

“Oh, you’re so fucking tight!”

Your brows furrow, your jaw sets, soft cries come out of you as he settles inside your walls but you don’t stop him. He kisses your neck, right on the spot he learned that makes you quiver the most, your hands clutched at his sides. It doesn’t take long for the nagging feeling to fade and for you to get accustomed to the sensation as your core stretches to welcome him fully.

Simon feels your body relax and starts to push into you, slowly, carefully, letting out pleased grunts of his own. His hands wrap around the back of your thighs and lift them up to his waist. You latch your legs around his body, a maneuver that allows him to bury his cock deeper inside you and that causes a loud moan to erupt from you.

“G-God… That’s…”

His lips trail back from your neck to your jaw, teasingly brushing your skin, until they hover on your open mouth; his eyes take in your contorting features with a pleased smile. 

He rocks at a steady pace against you while his hands roam your body, travel up your hips, caress your breasts, skim along the shape of your arms, stopping only to let his fingers interlace with yours, and pin your hands down to the mattress, at either side of your head.

You feel your lucidity slip from you completely. No coherent words come out of you, only a nonsensical mumbling. The way he’s thrusting inside of you, so deep and precise, hitting that perfect spot at each push, it takes every fiber in your being not to scream out loud and make the whole pub know how Simon’s fucking you sensless. 

You can only focus on how you’re connected to him, how he is filling you up so beautifully, how your bodies move wonderfully together; it’s almost like a dance, a primal animalistic dance that belongs to you two only. You even have the music to accompany your dance moves, a soft sensual melody that perfectly complements your passion-imbued union of trembling bodies.

So this is how it feels to have sex? This is how it feels to be wholly consumed by lust and desire? Or could this overwhelming sensation simply be Simon’s doing? To have him make love to you?

“Y/n…”

It takes a lot of effort for you to hum back in response.

Simon’s lips crush clumsily against yours as his movements become frantic and sloppier. He must be close to reaching the high. And so are you. Your eyelids are heavy, your sight slightly blurred and unfocused.

“Si, I think I’m about to-”

He pulls away from your lips, spine straightening, piercing eyes landing on your face as one of his hands slips from yours and travels along your body, down toward your core. He deliberately rubs your slit with his palm before he picks up a hectic waving motion to stroke your swollen nub, immediately triggering a shock wave of shivers to spiral up your back. Your head spins at the additional stimuli. Your eyes squeeze shut, cries fall out of your mouth as you contort in pleasure.

You feel his other hand grab your jaw and shake it lightly, demanding your attention.

“Eyes on me, beautiful.”

You look up at him with glazed eyes, dizzy and yearning for your release. With every stroke and every thrust you lose yourself more and more into the bliss.

His hand settles on your neck, closing around your throat, not hard enough to delay your breathing but providing you with such a thrilling and wicked pressure that makes you salivate and that instantly sends heat flaring in your belly, causing your need to build faster and even more intense.

Panting hard, your hands now free, you grip onto Simon’s strong arms while you progressively lose focus on every way he’s indulging your desire, instead centring your heightened senses on the feelings he’s awakening. The last thread of restraint then finally snaps and you reach the peak, core lightening with an answering flame that you’ve never felt before. You lose yourself in the waves of pleasure overtaking you, barely taking notice of Simon’s rutting inside you once, twice, three more times before his body goes still against you and a deep groan erupts from him. Both of you anchor the other’s body, pressing together, relishing in the other’s shudders and panting breaths. You’re so flush against him that you can feel his heart, challenging your own in a speed race and then gradually slowing down.

Chest heaving, you cradle the back of his head, letting your fingers thread between the roots of his hair, while he blows his hot breath on the crook of your neck as you both ease down from your highs. The warmth of his body is comforting against yours, you never want him to let go. The rousing feeling of his cock still buried inside you, resting between your fluttering walls is one you could easily get used to. It almost takes your breath away when Simon slides out of you, leaving you bare.

His damp lips press against your boiling skin, trailing up your jaw. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, committing this idyllic moment to memory. 

His thumb gently strokes your chin, fingers resting upon your cheek. When you open your eyes, he's already looking at you with the loveliest smile you've ever seen graze his face. You return it with one of your own.

"Si..." you pause, staring deep into his eyes. There's so much you want to say, a multitude of emotions running wild and untamed inside of you that needs to be addressed and yet you struggle to find the right words to tell him how you feel.

The realisation of what has just happened downs on you. You've spent years fantasising about this moment, fearing the real thing wouldn't even come close to your idealised perfect first time. Wondering when, where, with whom you would live through this experience. You're euphoric to admit to yourself that the real thing has surpassed the fantasy by a landslide. 

"I'm... glad it was you."

It sounds silly when you say it. You could have chosen from a billion other thoughts you had swirling in your head, yet this one drowned out the rest. But as silly as it may sound, it’s the truth: you’re beyond thrilled he was your first. There’s no other man in your life that you trust, respect, and love as much as him with whom you could share such intimacy. 

You see the angle of his lips curl up to one side, the pad of his thumb softly brushing the outline of your bottom lip. 

" I'm glad it was me ."

Your face cracks as you erupt in a giggle. With your palm against his cheek, you gently push him away. "Simon..."

He smiles down at you, his eyes crinkling as he leans down again to kiss the crown of your head before drawing all the way back and getting off the bed. 

Your gaze follows him as he tosses the used condom into the trash can and pulls up his underwear and jeans. As he picks up the rest of his clothes from the floor and gets dressed again, your devoted gaze glides up and down his body, a permanent smile engraved to your lips. You feel so lucky to be able to witness such a sight… You still have a hard time believing your eyes.

“Now, who’s enjoying the show ?”

His amused glance meets yours, and you give him a sheepish smile, followed by a shrug.

"I'm just taking it all in..."

"Oh, you've already taken it all in , princess."

You let out a shocked scoff, your mouth wide open. You dismissively wave your hand in front of your face and shake your head, as you feel a crawl of heat flooding to your cheeks. 

"Oh, shut up..."

You love his sense of humour. It’s one of the qualities you like the most about him. And now that you’re… well, even closer to him, the sarcasm is only bound to get more pungent. Not that you’d complain about it.

His low chuckle fills your ears as you distract yourself by adjusting your bra and dress, then taking a seat on the side of the bed to slip your boots back on. You notice a heap of black and white fabric on the floor at your feet and bend down to pick it up. It's his balaclava.

The thought doesn’t even have time to fully form in your mind that you’re already pulling the mask over your head. Unfortunately there’s no mirror in the room to check your reflection, to see how the skull fits you but the cloth feels surprisingly nice against your skin and… you can smell his scent.

The sudden lack of rustling from behind you causes you to spin around and you find Simon staring at you, holding your jacket. He walks toward you, handing you the garment, reaching then for your face to adjust the fabric on your nose and on your chin. He stops to give you an appraising look.

"It looks better on me."

You chuckle, smacking him playfully on the chest. “Oh, c’mon… what if I want to wear one, too?”

"And hide your beautiful face? Negative.”

“Well, then…”, you pin him with a challenging look, palms pressing hard against your cheeks, securing the mask on your head. “I won’t let you hide your beautiful face, either.”

You see him softly shake his head as he huffs a chuckle through his nose. After a moment, he reaches for his back pocket and retrieves your undies, waving them high above your head. 

“What? You’ll put those on your head instead?”

You try to suppress the laugh by biting on your lips but it erupts out of you anyway, like a river in flood. The pointed look he gives you only makes it worse.

“Alright, alright…”

Still snickering, you pull on the fabric and peel it off your head, holding it out to him. 

He takes the mask from you but doesn’t let go of your undies. He puts them back in his pocket as casually as he took them out.

You scoff, tilting your head to the side. "Really?" 

“I’m keeping them, as a memento.”

You stare at him, appraising his solemn expression. If he wants them then you’ll let him have them - the fabric is ruined anyway. They're not even your favourite pair, thankfully.

“First and last time you steal something from me, Si!”

“Can’t make promises, princess.” 

Your chest swells as you try to read between the lines. It's inevitable. You can't help but wonder if he means to tell you something else. Will there be a next time, or multiple next times? Does he plan on stealing something else? Like, your heart? To be honest, he's already halfway there, but he doesn't need to know that. At least not yet. 

You keep on looking into each other's eyes for a bit longer. You think you can detect the profound fondness behind his look. Your lips curl up in a shy smile.

“Ehm… I believe we kept the guys waiting long enough." you say, breaking the silence. "We should get back downstairs."

He gives you a curt nod but instead of moving away, he draws closer to you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he leans down and angles your head to brush one more kiss against your lips. The contact is strikingly gentle and it takes your breath away. It’s a kiss infused with unspoken words of devotion, promises, feelings which are too strong to be shared so early on but that are already there, growing, blossoming. Both your hearts are gardens in bloom. 

He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours for a lingering moment before taking a step back and disguising his face once again. 

The action saddens you but at the same time it fills your chest with pride; you're the only one who has been blessed to bask in the beauty of his seldom-seen bare face and no one else will receive such special treatment. Not today. Hopefully never. Is it selfish of you to wish that? Perhaps, but you don't care. Not when images of your lovemaking are still so fresh in your mind. Not when you can still feel the worshipping touch of his hands and tongue on your body. Certainly not when the cool, humid air of the room hits the wetness of your exposed core beneath the dress. 

You exchange a knowing look before moving towards the door and walking down the stairs together. That soothing tune, now linked with poignant core memories, floods in your ears once again, growing louder as you return to the main area and towards the bar. Your team is still at the counter, exactly where you left them... how long ago? You have no idea how much time has passed. You were too engrossed in your passion to pay attention to the outside world and its trivialities.

Johnny glances behind his shoulder just as you and Simon make a beeline toward the group. You can see his lips moving; he must be saying something to the others because they all crane their heads to look at you before returning to their drinks. Soap is the only one who whirls around, bivouacing on his seat and all over the counter like a fucking braggart as he meets your eyes and winks at you. 

Oh, he'll take yours and Simon's hookup as a personal victory, and he'll brag about it; you already know it. But you're far too happy right now to be bothered by it. Let him gloat. You're the one who got the reward, anyway. 

When you eventually make it to the bar, no one acknowledges your arrival. Nobody says anything about your absence or the dance prior to that. Their silence only serves to emphasise that they are all aware of what happened. The furtive glances they cast your way, some more mischievous than others, serve as plain confirmation. 

"Now that we're all here, I suppose we can head out." 

The captain's voice calls out to everyone as he stands up from the barstool. "Unless the two lovebirds fancy one last drink?" 

You try to ignore the appellation he used and the way your stomach flipped in response. You raise one hand and shake your head, avoiding his eyes as well as the urge to glance up at Simon. "I'm good."

A beat.

"Alright then. Off we go."

On cue, everyone gets off their seats, some knocking back their glasses, others stretching their legs. You take advantage of the shuffle to walk over to Johnny and hold out the key to him. He takes it back without a word but the sly smile playing on his face is hard to miss. You hope at least he has the decency to hold off of grilling you for deets until you’re back at the HQ.

You seem to catch a movement in your peripheral vision: Price giving Simon a firm pat on the shoulder? You’re tempted to turn your head to take a better look when a loud scoff interrupts you and draws your attention back to your best mate.

"Bloody hell, y/n! You and L.T. are not joking around!" 

Your brows furrow upon hearing his remark and when you follow the trajectory of his stunned look, your eyes widen as they meet the cloth of your undies poking out of his back pocket. You spring into action right away, grasping the exposed edge to yank it farther inside his jeans. Simon’s own hand reaches behind him to wrap around yours, fingers interlacing, as he maintains his focus on Price in front of him. Your chest swells at the gesture, heat rising in your cheeks,  but you manage to turn around and zap Johnny with a fierce glare anyway.

He makes a show of zipping his lips and throwing away the key. However, the grin he flashes you is so contagious that you find yourself returning one of your own.

It appears like you're in for a ride full of taunts, jokes, knowing looks and funny name-calling. Your mates will give you two no rest… but who gives a shit about it? Simon said it first. Why should you care? You'll take this and much worse if it means getting the chance to explore your feelings with the man of your dreams and spending many more nights out - or inside his spacious office - dancing together.

MORE STORIES 🥀

[Also consider leaving a tip here on Tumblr or buying me a ☕ if you particularly like what you read. Thank you! 🥀]

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley fic #ghost smut #Ghost fluff #simon ghost riley fluff #cod ghost #ghost cod #call of duty: modern warfare ii #call of duty #cod mwii #ghost fanfiction #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #Spotify

[gatorbites-imagines]

John Constantine x tattoo artist?? Smut or no (you choose!) I think it would be cute if john gets his tats from the reader (also kind of a possessive/marking quality there lol)

John Constantine x Tattoo artist male reader

Headcanons

Sorry there’s been no posts this week, classes have started up again, so as you can imagine I’m exhausted and have a lot less free time. I’ve been using most of my free time to read JJK, ngl.

Imagine being a magical tattoo artist, something like a seal maker. You do large complex and beautiful pieces, but you hide different seals and protection markers inside the patterns. It keeps the real purpose of the tattoo a secret, but is also pretty to look at.

John already has tattoos in the hellblazer comics, but imagine you giving him different ink. Something a lot less obvious and more attractive.

It makes him pass as a hot blonde British guy covered in a lot of fancy ink, instead of some brit with lotsa weird cult looking tattoos.

John becomes one of your most common customers, mainly because a lot of the tattoos you put on him disappear after the seals been used, since its all defense and storage. He might also use it as an excuse to see you more, so he can flirt.

John being John, would get a tattoo right above his crotch, think like a reverse tramp stamp, or a succubus tattoo, just so he can have you sitting between his thighs as he gives his flirting his all.

You definitely end up railing him within an inch of his life in the tattoo chair, tsking and “punishing” him for straining the tattooed area too much, and “messing up your work” when he writhes too much.

In the beginning its just a friends with benefits situation, something like a “happy ending” you might say. John wouldn’t be someone to do relationships for the most part, since most of the ones he’s been in haven’t ended great.

He subconsciously also wouldn’t want to paint a target on your back, since hes always involved with all kinds of stuff. But he cant help but always find himself back with you, getting some new seal inked onto his skin.

And if every visit ends up with him bent over the tattoo chair, or down on his knees to “thank you”, then who will judge him.

John would end up finally acknowledging his feelings when you save him from his big bad of the week, using your complex and intricate tattoos to pull out weapons and spells, and later seal the being that’s after him.

Its hard to deny how he feels after that, and though he wouldn’t put it into words, he would act differently. Like just showing up at your parlor to spend time with you without getting anything done, or sending you little protection charms or trinkets.

At some point you guys just start kissing and acting like a couple, without actually putting a name to it. It’s a dangerous life you both live, and words mean everything, so you never tell anybody you guys are lovers, since that would make the target on you both even bigger.

It doesn’t keep you guys from pretty much living together and acting all domestic, or being completely exclusive to just each other. John turning down all advances made on him confuses people in the beginning, until they just come to accept it.

John ends up with even more tattoos, these a lot more complex than average useable seals. These are the kinds that you have spent your entire life developing, and had only used on yourself because they’re that powerful.

The league are knocked back by how powerful his spells have become, and how much damage he can withstand. Only other magic users with the knowledge know just how amazing his tattoos are. He never tells them where he got them, just because he’s an ass.

You end up helping out more with his business, and he ends up being free advertisement for your parlor. Of course, no one gets tattoos like you or John, you would never give a possible enemy that kind of power, but it helps pad your pockets quite a lot.

John’s enemies end up targeting you as well, but they’re easily dealt with for the most part.

He ends up getting teased be friends and allies that he’s getting soft and domestic, cuz he doesn’t go out to bars like before, and wants to be home in time to watch a movie with you, or just go to sleep together.

He ends up a lot less stressed too, since you rock his world whenever he needs it, and become someone he can let down his defenses and just be vulnerable with.

In the end he probably gets pavloved to get in the mood when you tattoo him, or he hears the noise of the tattoo gun. John always blames you for making him this way, because you always go down on him after giving him new ink, not that he’s complaining.

#male reader #dc #john constantine #justice league #justice league dark #dc imagine #dc headcanon #dc x male reader #dc x reader #john constantine imagine #john constantine headcanon #john constantine x male reader #john constantine x reader #justice league imagine #justice league headcanon #justice league x male reader #justice league x reader #justice league dark imagine #justice league dark headcanon #justice league dark x male reader #justice league dark x reader

[luveline]

Hi Jade! Congratulations on 40k (deserved deserved deserved!!!!!)

Can I plz request some KBD Steve and Reader for 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐞𝐛 ?

Maybe they’re on a rare date night and they love getting to be alone together but they do miss their babies!

tyvm <3 kisses before dinner —dad!steve and mom!reader go on a date (for a little while). 1.3k

"Are you sure I don't look really stupid?" you ask as Steve opens the passenger door.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," Steve says simply, hand out to help you from the car. You smile and take his hand. You've done it hundreds of times, but you remember the first. 

"Woman," you correct without irritation. You've been together for almost ten years and you have four children. Four. "I don't think many people would say I'm a girl anymore."

"Ah, but you're my girl," —Steve laughs as you laugh, pulling you from the path of the door to close it and lock it— "so forgive me. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. 'N' I love white on you, as you know." 

You laugh more at his formal talking and fold your arm between his. Robin has made it so you can wear a white dress without fear of stains, agreeing to have your four girls for the day. Though day is a gentle term, because you don't expect anybody to be able to cope with children that aren't theirs for more than a few hours. You suspect you'll have four or five hours (Robin is well-trained and, more importantly, extremely loving toward your children) before one of them has a meltdown from missing you. 

Dove is the likely perpetrator. "She's really moody lately," you say, knowing Steve will get exactly who you mean as you begin walking from the parking lot and down the street to the coffee shop. 

Sure enough, he covers your hand where it rests in the crook of his arm and says, "She's in her terrible twos. But maybe you should be spending a little more time with her." He isn't judging or criticising you, just making an educated assumption. "Heather steals all your attention." 

"You can call her Heather as much as you like, but it isn't her name," you say, nudging his chest. 

"Can, will, is. I think she just misses you." Steve sees you squinting in the sun and offers his sunglasses. You lift your head and let him slide them up your nose, more for his touch and attention than a real need for them. It's a surprisingly sunny day in late September, the wind blowing warm on your bare legs and arms. "You know you're her favourite." 

"Do you ever worry that it's 'cos I don't see her enough? I mean, I'm home now, but that's only for another month. What if… like, what if I work and she grows up missing me so much she resents you?" 

"Do you think that's gonna happen?" Steve asks genuinely. 

"No. I dunno." You turn his face to yours in the middle of the street. You've changed a lot over the years. Being pregnant does that, but so does ageing, and living. Steve looks at you like you're charming, like the fact of your existence alone could make him laugh. You look at him the same. "You know, you get more handsome all the time." 

You kiss him. Steve closes his eyes and follows your lead. He bumps the sunglasses with his enthusiasm, and his kiss grows softer in apology. 

"She'll be okay. But you need more time together. And Avery needs more time with me, and Bethie needs less time in my lap–" 

"I can't see that happening," you say. "She's your pest." 

Steve hears the fondness in your voice and presses his hand to his chest, leaning back. "My girls," he says. 

You pass him back his sunglasses and look around. You and Steve have a favourite coffee shop slash smoothie place that serves all manner of hot snacks. You would've gone for lunch, but you promised Bethie you'd make her special toast (French toast) and might have been too greedy about it. Steve is a slammer for food even now, his metabolism doesn't slow, and you figure he'll have grilled cheese with his smoothie or a cup of soup. 

You didn't tell Steve you couldn't manage lunch, he just knew. He can read your mind these days. You love it more than you can explain. 

"Nice flowers," you say, pointing at the florists. 

"They don't have your favourite ones ever," Steve says, hand on your shoulder to hold you out of his line of view. "They're nice though, the white ones." He points at a bucket on the low sill. "Do you want those?" 

"No, I'm just saying they're nice," you say. 

"Come on, let's go get some. I should've got you some anyways, that's the point of a date." Steve offers his hand. You take it shyly, not so secretly pleased at his insistence. 

You stand in the cool air of the flower shop hand in hand, picking out flowers. It starts with Steve trying to buy you flowers, you buying him flowers, and then the two of you spend forty minutes picking flowers out for the girls. Avery loves roses, Bethie isn't picky so long as the buds are impressively big, Dove couldn't care less about flowers and little baby Heather sleeps and eats solely. You get Dove a small bunch of pink peonies and decide to share your bouquet of white flowers with the baby. Steve gets a mixed bouquet and doesn't protest. 

You have too many flowers to take with you to the coffee shop. You both refuse to admit what's happening until you're back in the car. 

"Are we really doing this?" you ask. 

"Why, think we should've bought flowers for Robin?" 

"I think the thank you movie tickets and the chocolates and the five minute hug you forced her into was thank you enough, but maybe we should've." You beam at him. "I mean, are we really going home? We didn't even make it to the coffee house." 

"We could take these home and put them in some water and come back…" He scratches a hand through his hair. "I miss them more than I thought I would. We've been glued together for a month, and I can't stop worrying about Heather." 

"I miss them too," you admit. 

You and Steve get drive through, and you kiss and murmur stupid shit at each other in the car outside of Robin's house for a perfect ten minutes, until Avery throws open your car door to scream hello. 

"I'm so happy you're home so early!" she shouts, scrambling up the foot well and straight into your lap. "Did you have fun at your date?" 

"Well, we were late leaving the house because I realised Dove's been drawing pictures on my button downs, and I almost crashed the car and scared mom half to death because the sun was in my eyes, and we were distracted looking at flowers for years and now we're home," Steve says. 

"So yeah, we had fun," you say. 

Steve leans over to kiss you. Avery laughs and shoves her hand between your faces, "Guys, I think Aunt Robin needs help, H won't stop crying and crying and crying and Dove tipped her drink all over Beth's pink dress. I think on purpose." 

Robin is very very sorry, and she didn't even call you guys, so why are you back? But she's grateful to be released. Not nearly as much as the girls are to see you guys. 

Robin is a great aunt, but you have clingy kids. 

"Mom!" Bethie shouts, pointing down at her sodden dress with a wobbly lip. "Look." 

"Aw, sweetheart, I see it. I put spare clothes in your bag, let's go get changed, okay?" 

You and Bethie leave hand in hand to clean up. Steve juggles the three remaining children dexterously, (maybe) Heather against his chest, Dove's shoulder under his hand, and Avery crowding his other side. He's barely in the living room. 

"Hello," he says, kissing one little head after the other. "Hi, honey. You okay?" 

"Did you at least have a good two hours?" Robin asks sympathetically. 

Steve nods happily. "We did. Really. Next time I think we might even make it to the coffee shop." 

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[saerins]

PREV: #004 THIS SPARK, IS IT REAL? 𖧧 #005 THE ICE SURRENDERS 𖧧 NEXT: #006 COMFORT IN FAMILIARITY ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — the closer you get to itoshi sae, the closer you are to the part of it all that you’d rather skip: your mother, your problems, your baggage.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. fluff/angst. tw: reader’s mom—calls her a whore. profanity, verbal abuse, switching povs, jealousy, unrequited love, making out. word count: 9.6k

༝༚༝༚ sorry for the absurdly long wait !!! as you know i was sick and out of it for the past week so this chapter was difficult to get out :( but anw it's here :) gimme a while more for those of you who asked for extras hehe but i hope you guys enjoy this for now !! mwah ily

“who? that guy that you’re always reported with?”

bianca sighs, her bad mood more than obvious to her manager, who’s been with her for three years now. considering she’s been there since her career started, bianca’s not surprised she can tell her moods from just a single look.

“yeah, he’s been… cold lately.”

at least, bianca seems to think so. sae hasn’t been this cold to her since they first got close. she’s biting on her lips, staring at their message thread, her messages going unresponded for a while now.

“bianca, you like him, right?”

her manager’s question goes unresponded, bianca’s lips tightly sealed. but that’s enough of an answer for her.

“why don’t you just tell him? who knows he might like you too? you two spend a lot of time together for two busy people.”

the words give her hope, but it’s not very many. bianca had hoped that after at least a year and more of getting to know each other that maybe sae would start to feel something, anything. it doesn’t look like it. he’s never once initiated hanging out with her, and no matter how many times she’s bugged him for something as simple as, for example, wearing his jerseys, he wouldn’t even budge.

what if people misunderstand, his lousy excuse. isn’t that just another way to say he doesn’t even want it?

“are you sure he’s not just busy?” her manager asks again upon her silence.

sure, that is the logical train of thought. sae’s one of the best midfielders the world has ever seen. not even counting that, he’s beautiful—a face and body that many brands would want to invest in, want help to sell their brand with. it’s entirely plausible that he has a packed schedule, and bianca would think that, if not for the fact that he’s been acting weird lately.

sae always plans his sleep—that’s why he refused her invitation to meet with her friends that night, isn’t it? he was tired and wanted to sleep, but he showed up the next day looking exhausted, more than bianca’s ever seen. apart from that, he even followed that mystery girl from that night; bianca recognises you from your profile picture.

who are you, exactly?

bianca finds herself scrolling through your profile—she already has your username memorised somehow. you don’t post much, and you don’t really post anything with anybody, just things like scenery from work travels and activities like baking, and you’re not tagged in much either, except for this one girl named sumi. still, all she’s able to gather from you is your name and that you work at a sports magazine.

is that all you want from sae? interviews and favours?

it better be.

“anyway,” bianca’s manager sighs as she prepares to go home for the day, having settled everything else regarding bianca’s schedule. “you have the whole week free after tomorrow, you should go to japan and surprise him if you want. maybe take some of that anxiety off,” she suggests, noting that bianca’s face will be perpetually pouting if she doesn’t get to the root of her questions.

on the couch, bianca sits up, the idea registering in her head, grinning from ear to ear. “you’re right,” she agrees, immediately making arrangements to fly to tokyo. “i’ll do just that.”

she’ll go to tokyo, she’ll talk to sae and try to wring it out of him. if it really is nothing, then great, but bianca’s already planning her next course of action if it isn’t.

bianca doesn’t know who you are just yet, but one thing she wants you to get clear in your head: sae is hers and hers alone.

maybe not now, but one day she’ll make it happen. and until then, she doesn’t want anyone to cut in.

you blink and stare in shock as you see the heart on your screen. it must be accidental. has to be. sae doesn’t look like the type to send hearts. you shake it off, bringing yourself back down to earth.

it’s the next day after your drinking session with otoya and the others. your mind’s pretty hazy; you don’t really remember much especially on the later half of the night—you only remember taking a leap of faith and dragging sae into seven minutes of heaven with you. you’re sure you did nothing at all, except talk, but even what you talked about is pretty foggy. what you do remember is that he said he isn’t involved with anyone. you smile just thinking of it.

maybe it’s stupid, possibly falling head over heels for someone like sae who has many more admirers than you can imagine, but you can’t stop yourself from seeing the signs that he’s sending you.

just his texts are proof alone—you know he’s not someone who wastes his time on people he doesn’t see in his future. and you want to think that he’s not treating you like this over something as simple as pure friendship. but you don’t want to get your hopes up. you don’t think you’ll actually believe it until he tells you himself.

after all, there’s still the whole thing with bianca. even if he says he’s not involved with anyone, with the way all the other guys talk about her and sae, you can’t help but feel there’s something more there. but maybe that’s not something you have to concern yourself with for now.

yeah, because right now, there’s an even bigger monster that stands on the other side of your door, pounding on it like the world will end if you don’t answer her. her shrill voice is enough to give you headaches that could last a year, and her demands—even worse.

“i swear to god, y/n, if you don’t open this damn door before they get here i’m gonna kill you myself!”

four minutes now that you’ve been ignoring her. she hasn’t stopped to take a breath. it must be really urgent. she must’ve screwed up really bad. again. you’re pretty tired of it. you wish you’d given up on her already. sometimes.

there’s a stack of cash in your hands that you’re fiddling with. your hard-earned money. yours to supposedly spend as you please. supposedly. but what’s yours hasn’t been completely yours for a while now.

begrudgingly, you yank the door open, your eyes just short of a speck of anger—your mother’s wide eyes are much worse, not a speck of affection for her own daughter. you wonder why your own flesh and blood looks at you like that. you remember how kind sae’s eyes are; why can someone like him look at you like that while your own mother looks like… this?

“here. payment for this month, like i said,” you huff, nearly earning yourself a slap across the face again, except your mother’s holding it in. probably for a more appropriate time.

“not enough. need a bit more.”

you squint your eyes at her in disbelief. “you borrowed even more? we can barely afford—”

“then make yourself of use like your father was!” she cuts in, the disdain in her voice clear, like the day used to be. “really, all you need to do is not be a bitch by talking back and you can’t even do that. i should’ve aborted you when i got the chance.”

she spits those words out as if there was never a day that she loved you. she says them as if she was forced to have you. she storms off as if she has any right to demand you for anything.

you shouldn’t be abiding by them, but you can’t help it. the old picture of you and your parents when you were ten sits sourly at the edge of your study table, their once perfect smiles all smeared by recent memories, fading away as if they were just a fever dream.

“mom and dad will always love you, okay?”

is it a crime to want that loving woman back?

eita would be a good person to talk to about all this, given he knows a fair amount, but he doesn’t know how truly bad your mother’s gotten, and you’re not sure you want him to. you’ve burdened him enough, making him constantly worry about you even when he’s busy, and you’re not sure how much of it you can take from him without starting to feel guilty all over again.

and a part of you wants to warn sae that if he doesn’t want anything bad staining his reputation that he should stay away from you. but there’s the dominant part of you that wants to pursue what you want, without guilt or having to think about others, that wants to give yourself a chance at what makes you happy.

your mother has a tendency of taking them all away though. it wouldn’t be the first time.

for the first time, you find yourself wanting to count on someone other than eita, and for entirely different reasons. you’re texting the person who makes your heart beat faster without a second thought.

your fingers hover hesitantly over the send button. your mind plays the memories with shiro all over again. he used to give you the same feelings sae did. he used to make you think he was all green flags and clear skies and it’s eerily similar to what you feel now.

can you really trust yourself with this?

clumsily, your thumb deletes everything, putting in its place a lame excuse—i’m just feeling the monday blues kicking in early, save me.

maybe one day you’ll trust him enough to tell him about it. yeah, one day.

“why haven’t you told him yet?” eita asks you the next day, when you’ve given up holding strong in your house and decided to defect to his.

you’re out on his balcony, leaning against the back of the chair, enjoying the rare chilly weather of the afternoon. eita’s beside you, barely awake because he always sleeps in and today you just so happened to intrude on some of that time.

sae, for the most part, entertains you whenever he’s free, even now he’s still replying you. but no matter how good your life gets, you can’t get the ick of staying with someone who doesn’t really love you away. hence why you’re here, seeking escape once again. albeit in a different way than you used to.

although, with all the questioning you’re receiving, you think maybe you should’ve just toughed it out. still, you should’ve expected this topic to come up sooner or later. it’s not unreasonable for eita to get worried when you seem to be seeking him out more than usual anyway.

you sigh, it’s a headache that you’re too used to blocking out that when eita asks you about it you’re not too ready to answer him. “and say what? ‘hey, by the way, my mother’s a perpetual gambling addict who will ruin your entire reputation if word gets out at all’? no thank you.”

there’s a small pause when eita thinks your words through.

“what, you didn’t think of the same thing when hanging out with me?”

you look pointedly at him, arms crossed, wind swirling through your hair. “that’s different, we’re best friends, eita.”

eita chuckles, stretching his hand out and laying his head against it on the wooden table, staring at you. “what’s this now? so you got a crush on sae, huh?”

fuck. you curse at yourself internally when you realise what you’d just confessed to.

“didn’t know you two were even talking,” eita mumbles, maybe to himself with how soft he is right now. “guess it makes sense. that guy wouldn’t have taken care of you the whole night if there wasn’t something going on.”

you mirror eita’s position, looking back at him. “don’t tell me too much, but… is he like this with bianca too?”

yeah, you hate yourself for asking about that to someone who’s not sae, but you want to know what eita thinks. because unlike oliver and the others, you trust eita.

there’s a look that he gives you that you’re not too sure what to make of. it’s gentle, and a little unlike him that you might confuse him for actually being half-asleep and caught in his dreams. but he shrugs, looking away, “i mean, there’s a difference in the way he takes care of you two. if you ask me, if bianca asked him to stay he probably wouldn’t. if it came from you, i think he would.”

eita wants to do the opposite, lie a little and maybe turn you away from his friend. but it’s you. it’s someone he could never lie to. not anymore. and he’d rather stay your best friend than get blacklisted for lying to you.

he sees you heaving a sigh of relief.

“you really like him, huh?” he meant to say that in his head, but the words just roll off his tongue.

there’s a lot of other things you’d usually say to distract him and force a change in subject, but given how much you’re already keeping from him about how bad your mother’s really gotten, you feel like you owe him some form of transparency somewhere, as thanks for keeping you sane most of the time.

“yeah, i think so,” you say, the only hesitation in your voice coming from the fact that you’re not sure if you should be telling eita about this.

for his part, he isn’t falling apart. maybe because all along he knew somewhat that this day would come and that he still wouldn’t be ready, still wouldn’t be able to say he wants one person and one person only. but you’re already there. you’ve always been.

“first time you feeling this way?”

“eita, let’s not go there.”

“why not?”

you stop the conversation from going too quickly, regaining the balance. “so… it was true, then?” there’s a reason you say it in past tense. you hope it’s not still true, from a selfish perspective.

eita’s forced laughter is enough of an answer. he still graces you with an answer. “it still is, i guess.”

for the first time ever, the both of you are addressing this. a few years too late, admittedly, but considering you’re two people who hate being straight with each other about these things, it’s progress.

you remember the day the signs got too real to ignore. it was the day you ran. it was the day eita denied everything because he didn’t want you to but still lost you.

A FEW YEARS BACK

“yeah? you’re not gonna even tell me that things between us are off?” he spat, the frustration seeping through his voice, disdain on every syllable.

eita never used that tone of voice on you until that moment.

it was raining again. just like that night he first kissed you. you thought it would forever mean nothing, you thought it would be something comfortable—for the both of you. something with nothing attached.

“answer me, then. you really gonna date that fucker shiro of all people?”

eita was young, and his fame was steadily rising. he had multiple people throwing themselves at him, wanting anything he could offer and yet everything he was offering to you, you threw away.

not that you necessarily knew what was going on in eita’s head, but given how you were acting, you might have an idea. that was why, right? that was why you were pulling away.

there’s thunder, and dozens of cars passing by, rainwater covering the both of you from head to toe because eita saw you for the first time in weeks and he just couldn’t wait to talk to you any longer. you had been avoiding him for so long now, were you even friends anymore?

your normal cheerful expression was clouded over, your glare more than enough warning that he shouldn’t be doing all of this but eita wasn’t going to stop no matter what. not until he got everything out. he was going to wait until you responded to him because you were apparently so fucking good at avoiding people.

“and how is that any of your business?”

eita barely recognised the person talking to him. since when did you learn to hate him that much?

“oh, i’m sorry, i must’ve missed the fucking memo that we weren’t talking or fucking anymore,” eita spat, the sarcasm dripping off his tongue something he used to use on everyone but you. not now, though. he was too angry for that.

you scoffed, walking one, two steps forward, both of you just an arm’s length apart. “then hear this, eita: we’re not fuck buddies anymore, and i have a boyfriend, so just stay away, okay?”

there were multiple voices in his head screaming not to say what he wanted to say at that moment, screaming at him that he would regret it, but he didn’t listen. his eyes wide, a sneer on his face; he was determined to look more vindictive than you were right then. “oh wow, y/n, didn’t know you were such a slut like your mom, giving it to whoever has more moneybags,” he mocked, more than aware of the hurt in your eyes but his temper was bad, and he couldn’t stop himself. “you know what? maybe you deserve all this shit, then, since you’re the same.”

the slap you gave him that day was the second hardest you’d given him in your life, maybe because a part of you was too distraught hearing those words from him that you weren’t in your best condition. that, and maybe the rain. but you ran away crying, as much as you tried to hide it. but eita had been in this position before, had seen what you looked like while running in the rain with tears in your eyes though you tried to mask them as the rainwater. you never liked to cry in front of him, and you never did.

and then, he was the reason you cried. the one person who you thought would never do that.

that night, as you ran straight into your boyfriend’s arms, you thought maybe you deserved it for not being able to deal with other people’s feelings properly. it wasn’t eita’s fault for having emotions, and it most certainly wasn’t his fault that he didn’t want to tell you about it. but you could feel it.

you felt it in the way he tried to hold your hand while walking alone. you felt it in the way he tried to hug you to sleep after he fucked you senseless. you felt it in the way he wasn’t seeing anyone else anymore. it wasn’t that you didn’t care about him, but with everything that was going on, emotions aren’t such a simple thing that you could handle, after all. especially if you didn’t feel the same way.

it was supposed to be a pair of best friends, using each other, nothing more and nothing less and you couldn’t take the heat when you felt eita wanting more. maybe you should’ve done it differently. maybe. and it was funny that you could tell how he felt about you yet at the moment, you couldn’t tell if he meant what he said.

and maybe if you knew better, you would've asked. no, if you knew better, you would've talked to him about it.

but it was all too late.

PRESENT

“oi, snap out of it.”

eita’s normal snappy voice brings you back to where you are, in his balcony sitting and supposedly enjoying the view, because when you’re high up here it almost looks like you have no troubles in life—at least, not the ones you have.

“look, i’m not gonna ask you to ignore what i just said,” eita says, sighing before he looks you straight in the eyes, his green irises much warmer than they used to be. “but can i ask you a favour?”

it takes you a while to respond, only because you can’t tell what he wants from you. your mouth opens slowly and carefully, “what?”

eita scoffs, and this time it’s not in disgust and you can tell. you can tell his mannerisms a lot better now. maybe because you’re both adults, and more transparent. maybe because you both had already lost each other once and know what that felt like, and maybe you both don’t want it to happen ever again. you don’t really know about him, but to you, no one can replace him in your life. his presence is too significant for that.

“stop looking at me like i’m a lost puppy.” he’s scowling now, downturned lips softening just a little, into a pout.

you snort, containing your laughter. perhaps you’d been thinking a little too much about it that you’re starting to look at him with pity. “yeah, okay.”

“that isn’t the favour.”

“then what is?”

he carries a straight face as he talks to you now, his fingers coming up to flick you softly on the forehead. he’s always felt like family to you. sometimes you wish he was. and for his end, he looks at you, knowing that the emotions he has will forever go unreciprocated, and yet he can’t stop being dumb by trying anyway. he knows, already, just by looking at the difference in the way you treat sae, in the way you look at him. you’re so smitten, and if eita even stood a chance, you would’ve been together already. and sometimes he wonders if what he said that night was what pushed you over the edge, was what solidified him as nothing more than just a friend with a temper too harsh sometimes that you didn’t want to count on even if you had no one else.

there was a fault he could find in the way you pushed him away. but there’s more that he can find with himself for saying what he said to you. he still counts himself lucky you never held a grudge with him over that.

eita chuckles under his breath; he can’t believe he’s about to say something so corny but he doesn’t know how else to tell you. “i kinda don’t want our friendship to change,” he explains, and he has to look away because if you’re going to run away again, he doesn’t know how he’ll take it. you’re about the only person who knows every single side of him. sides he doesn’t normally show to people. “so… don’t fucking run away again, or treat me differently just ‘cause you know how i feel. that just makes me feel fucking pathetic.”

because he knows you only pushed him away since you couldn’t reciprocate. you weren’t a slut, and you surely didn’t deserve any of your unfortunate circumstances—nothing he said that night was true. you only had good intentions, and the words that came out his mouth were only bad.

even until now, he hadn’t apologised.

yet here you are. smiling in front of him, for him, because of him. despite everything shitty going on in your life, here he is, asking you for a favour. and you’re nodding your head, preserving the friendship that you needed to stay a friendship, just like you’ve always been.

“okay, i promise,” you say, a childish smirk on your face as you hold your pinky out, to which he obliges and hooks his own around.

“you’re so dumb, i wonder what he sees in you,” eita sighs as he yanks his pinky away.

you’re laughing, the earlier bad memory already whisked away by the sunlight hitting  your face. “who?”

“sae.” you freeze on eita’s words, but eita does you a favour and pretends he doesn’t see, doesn’t tease you about it. he wants to know about all of this, even if it’s just from the jealous perspective of being the throwaway option. “he treats you like…”

“like what?” your voice quivers a little, because you’re nervous. you always are when it comes to itoshi sae, somehow. (you won’t admit that right in front of the man himself though, too embarrassing.)

“like he likes you.” eita has to swallow the lump in his throat. it sucks to be talking to you about this, to possibly be talking this guy up, but he knows you need a friend. and he knows you don’t open up easily, so he has to be your best option. eita looks at you out of the corner of his eye, wondering if you’d open up a little bit more.

there’s a faraway gaze in your eyes. “eita?”

“yeah?”

this time, that gaze focuses on him, a warm, sad smile on your face. looks like the pity hasn’t fully worn off, but he’ll excuse it this time.

“thanks,” you say, so softly.

looks like you aren’t really ready to talk about it yet. eita rolls his eyes jokingly; trying to be just a best friend seems pretty hard after all. “stop being a sappy piece of shit,” he groans, earning a giggle from you.

somehow it feels nice, being able to take away some of that pain, even if just for a small moment. though, maybe you’d have an easier time around sae, if you would just learn to open up.

“and hey, if you’re still too scared to tell him about any of it, you can still find me, ‘kay?” he tells you, and you nod appreciatively. you probably just see him as a big brother by now. “and if your mom’s still giving you trouble, come by anytime, i’ve been too busy nowadays to bring anyone home anyway.”

you gasp, acting shocked. “oh really? wow, a changed man.”

“mhm mhm, i just fuck ‘em in the club.”

your playful jab on his arm comes faster than it usually does.

you wonder if you can ever repay eita for everything he’s done for you—be your punching bag, letting you stay at his house rent-free sometimes, accidentally ruin his date night others. you think of how he feels about you and you think probably not. you probably can’t ever repay him for how much sanity he’s given you back when you were at your lowest. so maybe you’ll start by not running away this time.

but your mind drifts to his words. you’re going to have to tell sae some time, but you know how it turned out the last time you told someone with such a high status about it. you remember how shiro turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, how his warm demeanour changed when it suited him, how he used everything to lord over you.

you wonder if sae will be the same. you don’t even know if these feelings are fleeting or not. are they even worth it?

is sae going to be worth a try? or is he just going to turn out just like shiro?

yeah, you’ll take your time telling him. you want to get to know him, so it’s hypocrisy from your end, but if he’s a good guy, he wouldn’t mind waiting—that’s what you tell yourself, because like hell do you want him to know about your family as you are now. pathetic, scrimping from paycheck to paycheck, desperately clawing your way up into a normal class. next to him, you’re too inadequate. 

but then, why is your gut telling you otherwise?

sumi comes bounding in on monday morning, straight to your desk after her morning meeting with the boss. she looks exceptionally happy today, her eyes beaming bright and her smile nearly infectious.

“i swear to god, i think my hard work is paying off!” she exclaims excitedly, careful to keep her voice down even then. she bites on her lower lip, suppressing a grin when she passes you a proposal she’d done up.

on the first page, it’s titled as such: proposal, by suzuki sumi. when you flip to the second page, you’re overwhelmed by a huge close-up picture of one of the top players in soccer right now—isagi yoichi. she giggles when she sees your face contort in surprise, nodding in excitement.

“let’s just say, thanks to a friend of a friend, i managed to talk to isagi at the airport and he personally agreed to do an interview with us,” she proudly explains, answering your unspoken questions. she’s already happily chattering away about her plans for when his interview’s booked—which you learn is still a few weeks away, and may be delayed depending on whether his schedule has any last minute changes.

“that’s lucky,” you comment, passing her proposal back to her. there’s pages and pages of meticulously planned questions and interview segments, along with possible video footage they could do to add onto the company’s youtube account. sumi’s obviously enthusiastic about all of this, more than you’ve ever seen her since you first spoke to her.

it’s nice to see sumi finally happy for once, given how hard she’s been working at this company. she’s the first friendly face you saw when you first came here anyway, and had it not been for her, your work life probably wouldn’t feel as warm as you do now.

“i know, right?” she sighs, content, dreaming about how the interview would go already, about how happy the boss will be with her once their numbers skyrocket. after the lifeline you threw for them by somehow getting to know itoshi sae, it’s been hard for anyone else to keep up. she smirks at you, “remember what i said on your first day here?”

sumi had said a lot of things, actually. most of which were mostly gossip and not actual work, but you can guess what she’s hinting to. “yeah, that it pays to have connections, right?”

you remember those words, only because you’d unintentionally thought back to eita once she’d said them. your attention flits back to sumi, who looks wantonly relieved—she must’ve really been worried for herself then, considering how bad the job market is right now. she never told you, but you could sense she’d been worried about her performance, and whether or not she’d get enough bonus this year to have that dream wedding she’d always cooned over.

“mhm, and you have two indispensable ones yourself,” she points out, winking, taking a sip of her coffee. “otoya eita and itoshi sae, while i’ve just now gotten isagi yoichi.”

she spends the later part of the morning texting you about how she’ll need your help to pull it off, while you juggle work, sumi and apparently sae at the same time, because for some reason, he’s gotten real chatty over the weekend. not that it’s unwelcome—it’s a pleasant surprise.

right, because when you’re out with sae, who has a heck of a pr team—people who make sure to keep him in line, you’ll have to be careful. you can’t let just anyone see you out and about with him, not when he has a ton of crazed fans who would probably butcher you just for dating rumours. your mind drifts off, wondering how bianca deals with it. though, considering she comes from a long line of famous figures, you guess she’s used to it, having to grow up with all that attention around you.

you look at the clock—it’s around ten minutes till your work day ends. your heart speeds up at the notion of seeing him again, even if it’s only been two days since you’d seen him last. you wonder how you’re going to survive if he has to be away for months at a time for his games if you’re already yearning to see him this much now. shaking the feeling off, you straighten up, retreating to the bathroom to freshen up before you go.

at the same time, parked in the corner lot, sae stares at the caller ID on his phone as it vibrates, surprised. he picks it up, wondering why she’s calling when it’s probably late wherever she is.

“hey, it’s your favourite girl,” bianca’s voice squeals over the line. “guess what?”

“what is it?” sae is, for the most part, not too surprised. bianca has a habit of calling him a lot of the time. more and more frequently nowadays. he wonders why.

“i’m in japan right now,” she reveals, giggling, and sae finds a bad feeling dawning over him. “pick me up? i just got to the airport.”

“sorry, can’t pick you up tonight.”

“what? i thought you’re gonna be in japan for a while.” he can just hear the disappointment in her voice.

“yeah, but i’m busy now, so…” sae trails off, not knowing exactly if he should say anything about you.

“oh, with the guys? you could just skip out on—”

“nah, it’s with someone else,” he settles for, wondering what the sudden silence from the other end of the line means. he’s not sure he wants to find out right now, so he’ll have to talk to bianca some other time. “i gotta go—”

“are you going on a date?” bianca’s tone seems more inquisitive than he’d like, but her question has him thinking.

is this a date?

bianca stays silent as he ponders about it, waiting with bated breath because this is the first time in two years that sae had ever rejected her request, and judging by how he’s struggling, he’s undoubtedly meeting a girl. is it you? she curses under her breath as she pushes her hood over her head, determined not to let anyone see her sweat right now.

“yeah,” sae says, the decision coming to him as soon as he sees your familiar face approaching, that polite little smile on your face. “i’ll talk to you later.”

indignant, bianca exhales sharply, her temper taking over her as she huffs a “don’t bother” into the receiver before hanging up.

sae looks down at his phone, staring at her name on the call log. he makes a mental reminder to check in with her later, but for now, he shoves that thought aside—tonight, he’ll focus on you. just you.

and when you effortlessly command all his attention by slipping into the passenger seat all too naturally, he thinks that whatever ripple effect this may cause may be worth it. for him. and now, it’s his mission to make it worth it for you too.

“so,” you say, all sparkly-eyed as you look at him excitedly. “where are we going tonight?”

you thank god that you decided to dress up a little more today when you see that he’s taking you to another high-end place. this time, it’s on a rooftop of a five-star hotel, with views overlooking the tokyo skyline; a view you never thought you’d actually see in person.

it’s breezy enough up here that it’s not too stuffy, and there are step lights and string lights all around the venue but they’re dim enough as to not reveal sae’s face too much. (not that anyone hear even bothers to look at anyone else passing by, all too engrossed in their hushed conversations.) you notice he’s always handsome no matter what he wears—and today it’s a black button-down shirt with black pants, a casual dark jacket hanging over his shoulders. your eyes linger over the little bit of his chest that you can see; you can tell he’s muscular under there.

“distracted much?”

sae’s voice startles you, and you can see him smirking a little as if he knows what you’re thinking. your cheeks heat up a little, acting coy. he’s reaching a hand out, probably something you didn’t notice while you were deep in your thoughts, and you take it, letting him lead you slowly to your seats.

as you take a seat and the waiter hands you the menus, your eyes flick up, looking at the man across from you. he reads the menu silently, and you notice the sliver of black ink that extends across his palm. it takes all you can to suppress a grin.

“i can always give you another one anytime, you know?”

for some reason that you probably know, sae catches on to what you’re talking about pretty quickly, the dim lighting failing to conceal the way his ears turn red. “so you like giving me hearts?”

you don’t miss the slight teasing in his voice, having to conceal your own nervousness. “i think you’re the one who likes receiving them,” you quip, hiding your face behind the menu.

there’s a rustling noise, rousing your curiosity and making you put the menu down. sae doesn’t respond to your earlier comment but he does give you a tiny smile, putting a two-pack of macarons on your side of the table. he must’ve taken it out of his pocket while you weren’t looking.

“what’s this?”

“macarons,” he shrugs, though you’re not really asking that. he picks up on it. “i was in paris for some event over the weekend. thought you’d wanna try that.”

(sae looks at your reaction as you pick the small bag of mini macarons up, eyes staring at it in awe. he thinks maybe you recognise the name on the plastic—it’s the name of the most popular bakery in paris. it costs a lot more than he thinks macarons should, but when he sees the subtle smile on your face, it’s definitely worth the price tag.)

you’re not so big on surprises, especially when your mother loves giving you some on the daily, but this is the kind of surprise you like. the kind that makes that incessant vibrating in your purse worth it. the kind that trumps your want to be in control.

and even throughout dinner, sae keeps surprising you. maybe it’s just that you’ve never experienced much, or that you never expected much from him, but every little thing he does seems meaningful to you. the way he makes sure to ask if you don’t like to eat certain food before ordering, the way he drapes his jacket over you when the wind picks up, even the way he slowly leans across the table to clean the stray crumb off your face with his finger.

every gesture seems to tell you something—something that you don’t dare to think of because you’re scared that it’s not true, that you’re the only one starting to fall.

“you know, if you’re constantly like this around girls, no wonder there’s always dating rumours with you,” you huff, too afraid to ask him directly.

but sae always manages to decipher your intentions somehow. he tilts his head, earnesty dripping from his words, “whatever ‘this’ means, i’m only like that with you.”

it doesn’t do your heart any favours, making it pound a million miles an hour because whatever sae’s confessing to here wasn’t on your bingo card for the day.

“itoshi sae, you’re too much.”

“sae.”

“huh?” you look up at his face, only to see him averting his gaze as he turns to look at the skyline, the wind rippling through his soft pink locks.

“call me just by my name.”

you swallow the lump in your throat, gaze dropping to the table. it’s not like you purposely didn’t, but the fact that he’s asking you like this, like he’s being needy about it, heightens your emotions so much more.

his fingers find their way across the table again, this time to your chin, tipping it up, urging you to look at him. “say it.” it’s not commanding, or mean, or forceful, and his fingers are gentle, even his gaze and his intentions.

“sae.” his name rolls of your tongue slowly, and the way he smiles at you after that makes you feel inexplicable, knowing that you’re the reason he looks like that.

he doesn’t even say anything about it, just a smile in acknowledgement before he says he’ll go and pay the bill. you stare at his back as he goes, the contrast in your lives very apparent at every instance he takes you out—because it’s always fancy and expensive with him, a world you know nothing of, a world you once thought you’d never experience in this lifetime.

yet here you are, experiencing it thanks to him. you wonder if you’ll still get to once he knows about your family. he’s sort of a celebrity, right? there must be things he cares about that won’t line up well with your situation.

yeah, you don’t think you’ll ever get that out of your head. not until you ask him about it.

and you’re tempted to—especially with the vibration you’re constantly feeling tonight. taking the opportunity while sae’s away, you fish your phone out of your purse, picking the call up reluctantly, only because you’re mildly curious what else your dear mother could possibly want from you.

“you ungrateful little whore—”

“what do you want?”

yeah, you know you shouldn’t have picked it up. you really shouldn’t. and you don’t even know why you were even mildly worried that it might be your mother in danger and needing your help when she clearly wouldn’t do the same for you.

you hate yourself the most out of everyone. you knew clearly you shouldn’t have picked it up. and now your mother’s on the other line, cussing you out for ignoring her all night. then going on about some cruise she’s going on next week and how she found a secret stash of cash that you’re keeping in the kitchen cupboards, how you’re going to get it from her for hiding it and how kind it is of her to even warn you in the first place.

it’s fine.

you kept it there to distract her from your real money, safe in the bank. if she thinks she’s stealing all you have, it probably won’t cross her mind that you still have any. she doesn’t even know you’d worked multiple jobs back in university, only thought you were good for hooking up with men and purposefully disrespecting her.

a hand around your shoulder makes you jump back in shock, your eyes greeted with sae’s own.

“everything okay?”

“y-yeah, it was just a scam caller,” you lie, immediately hanging up and stuffing it back in your pocket.

as you clamour on about how both of you should really get going, sae catches the way your fingers tremble ever so slightly, how your lips threaten to downturn—are you about to cry?

but when you turn around and force a grin, joking about how you’re going to pull a dine and dash on him, he knows you won’t. whatever’s bothering you—you’re locking him out of it. he doesn’t like it, but can he even complain?

and when the both of you are back in the car, the night feels strangely short somehow, and sae reluctantly pulls out his gps. “what’s your postal code again? i’ll drive you back.”

there’s a short pause before you offer him the string of numbers, and sae’s brows furrow when he keys it in. “you’re heading to otoya’s?” he asks. he knows you two are close, and have been, but this sinking feeling in his heart is not something he’s familiar with.

you bite on your lower lip. you don’t want him to have any false assumptions, but you’re not exactly ready to tell him the truth either—that you’re just running from your problems, that eita’s house is the only other space you have.

“are you… still involved with him?” sae asks, voice soft, looking away like he did earlier.

it reminds you of that night you got drunk. you remember how you needed to know. so you figure maybe you owe him the same. “i’m not involved with anyone,” you tell him, smirking. but he looks at you like he’s waiting for more and you remember too, what you want to hide from him for now. “i just—i don’t have—”

“hey, you don’t have to say anything,” sae cuts in, the slight quiver in your voice enough indication that this isn’t something you’re prepared to say. he’s known that for a while now. “you just can’t go home, right?”

you’re more than a little grateful that he is the way he is, that he doesn’t force anything out of you like shiro used to. “yeah,” you admit, awkwardly looking away. “i usually just stay at eita’s until… i’m ready to go back.”

there’s an awkward silence that stretches on for a while before sae concedes to it. “you could stay at mine.”

did you hear that right?

you furrow your brows. “what?”

sae’s mouth hangs open for a while, like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “i could drive you to otoya’s if you prefer that. but… if you wanna stay at mine, that’s fine too. i have a couple extra rooms, you could just pick one.”

what you actually wanted to hear was why he’s willing to do that for you when he hasn’t even known you long, but you hold your tongue. there are doubts in your head—like privacy issues since he’s a celebrity, and rumours if you ever get caught entering or exiting his house, and what exactly does he see you as?

but there’s the selfishness part of you that wants to go for it. and you listen to her.

“then, can i stay over? just one night so i won’t intrude too much,” you assure him, being polite because you’re scared you’re overstepping your boundaries. or that he’ll think you’re a creep even though he’s the one that invited you.

sae can’t help but snicker, and you can’t help but stare as he rests his head against the steering wheel, staring at you. “are you interested in me, y/n?”

you pout, because he’s hit the nail on the head, the embarrassment flying to your head. “okay you know what? if you’re gonna joke about it just take me to eita’s—”

this time sae bursts out laughing, and you feel even more mesmerised; it’s unfair how easy it is for him to do that.

“okay okay, i won’t say that anymore,” he appeases you, hand coming up to ruffle your head. “and feel free to stay as long as you want.”

“i’m gonna steal your jacket, by the way, since you like to joke around so much,” you huff, though sae only chuckles at whatever you say now.

“sure, take whatever you want.”

“and you’re buying my necessities.”

“for when you’re at mine? sure.”

“sae, one day i’m gonna kill you.” because he’s still laughing, obviously getting a kick out of your earlier embarrassment. 

“you can’t do that.”

“and why not?”

and sae’s face immediately leans forward, just inches away from you. he’s so close you can feel his hot breath against your cheeks and it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest.

“then i won’t be able to give you that kiss you asked for.”

your breath catches in your throat, sae coming closer ever so slightly, his gaze falling to your lips for a split second before he shatters your hopes by pulling away, setting the gps to the nearest convenience store. but he doesn’t drive off just yet.

not before he makes sure to look at you one last time, that dazed look on your face, his thumb and pointer finger coming up to pinch your cheek gently, leaving an imprint of himself in your heart.

“come on, we’re here.”

after a half hour of poking around the convenience store and getting whatever you need (you also had to stealthily creep some disposable underwear in your basket and make sure sae didn’t see them when paying), you arrive at sae’s apartment—nestled in one of tokyo’s most luxurious neighbourhoods. a far cry from your own.

he carries your bags for you, leading you to his unit, straight at the top, on the thirty-second floor. his is the corner unit, and he gestures for you to walk in front of him.

“1-0-0-9,” he tells you, both hands full.

“huh?”

“the combination, it’s 1—”

“no, i heard you,” you interject, a little exasperated. “but you shouldn’t just hand the passcode out to anyone.”

“i don’t,” he assures you, saying it matter-of-factly. “i trust you.”

you hurry to key in the code, so easily flustered by the way he seems so willing to tell you anything. “then don’t blame me if one day you come back home to find the place ransacked,” you jokingly warn him.

sae conveniently ignores that comment, placing your items in one of the spare rooms nearest to the living room. as you walk in, you marvel at how spacious and clean his apartment is. it’s all cold marble floors and high ceilings, and you can already tell it must be so nice in the day with all the natural lighting flooding in here. the wide windows must let all the sunlight in, must be much brighter during the day than yours is.

you follow him as he tells you where everything is; the spare room right next to the living room, the toilet across from it, the kitchen right next to the balcony exit, accessible from your own room. his apartment is so huge it makes you wonder if he ever feels lonely in it.

in the living room, you see multiple pictures in frames, most of which you assume are probably his family. you recognise rin, present in most of the pictures. they look happy, at least. there’s also one with eita and the others, and some others you don’t recognise. none of bianca or any other girls, you note.

“all good?” he asks once he’s done with the mini tour.

you nod apprehensively, still tense about the fact that you’re staying the night at his place. “yeah, i’m just gonna wash up first.” you don’t even let him say anything before you’re bounding off into the spare room he gave to you, trying to calm yourself down because it never hit you until now that you’re really here, in sae’s place, ready to make yourself at home when you’re not even anything to him. though, you really hope that there’s something.

“calm down, y/n, just gotta take a shower and you’re good as new,” you whisper to yourself, calming yourself and taking deep breaths.

outside, sae’s gaze lingers on the door to your room, your shadow visible from the bottom gap of the door as you move about. he can’t even come up with a good enough reason to tell himself why he bothered to let you stay here, except maybe that he selfishly didn’t want you to stay with otoya.

is that bad?

before he can ponder anymore about it, the door to your room opens and you sheepishly walk out, a grin on your face as you approach him. “so… i forgot something.”

and now you’re going to ask him for it.

“what is it?”

“i swear i didn’t forget on purpose, okay?” you’re pouting, and he finds it mildly adorable. “could i borrow some clothes?”

sae nearly bursts out laughing just from how nervous you seem. though, from how you’ve been every time you saw him, from his hat to his jacket and now you’re asking for his clothes, he can see why you’re a little nervous.

“do you always forget around otoya too?” he means that redundantly more than anything, just a passing comment, but you answer anyway.

“well, i always just wear his jerseys.”

you really were just answering honestly, but the way sae grips your wrist and guides you to his closet is almost comical. you allow yourself to think that he’s doing this out of jealousy, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as you follow him.

“you have a walk-in closet?” you gape, looking at the sheer size of it. it’s nearly as big as your entire room.

“take whatever you want, my jerseys are in there,” sae says, pointing you to the sliding door closest to you.

that’s how you end up coming out of the showers a half hour later, dressed in his national jersey, his name in block letters at the back. you’d take a picture just to savour it, but you’d like to think that hopefully this isn’t the last time you’ll get to wear it.

when you come out, sae’s already washed up, probably has his own bathroom in that big bedroom of his. his hair’s wet, dripping onto his thin white t-shirt, eyes finding your gaze as you walk towards him and bow deeply. you’re a comfortable distance away from your mother, phone switched off and discarded into one of the drawers in the guest room, only because sae was kind enough to let you stay. for multiple nights even, if you want to.

“thank you,” you tell him, and it’s for more than just tonight, more than just dinner and a shirt and a bed to sleep in. somehow, ever since you’d met him, he’s been there for you constantly, even if he doesn’t mean to be. it still counts for something, you think, because you can’t even remember the last time you felt like a giggly high school girl having a normal crush even if it’s on a not-so-normal person.

“not gonna ink it on my skin now?” sae teases when you straighten back up, and you roll your eyes.

“don’t blame me if you wake up with a dick drawn on your face.”

“is that what you want?” sae asks you, and you get the feeling he’s not even invested in your quip, his mind elsewhere.

sae’s face is right in front of yours, like so many times before now, it feels like. it makes you think you’re not that delusional, that he could feel just the same as you do—excited, tired, confused.

“i already told you what i want,” you whisper, and you would probably kill yourself if you were thinking clearly for being so open and vulnerable in front of him right now, but then it doesn’t matter.

none of it matters when his lips are on your lips and you can taste the mint lingering on his tongue, when you can feel the way his hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you closer, but gently, like he’s trying not to seem too eager but so close to failing. his hair tickles your face, the way he keeps coming back for more leaves you breathless.

your arm comes up behind his neck, keeping him close. his kiss makes your mind hazier than any alcohol can, his grip falling to the back of your thighs, your lips still connected as he lifts you up onto the counter of the kitchen, his body nestled comfortably between your thighs as he knocks the air out of your lungs.

it’s as if he’s telling you you’re not crazy, that you’re not imagining anything, because he’s here with you right now, out of anyone’s watchful eyes and he’s kissing the fuck out of you simply because he wants to. no dares, no alcohol—just itoshi sae and his crumbling resolve to hide his yearning.

by the time he pulls back, both of you are trying to catch your breaths, foreheads leaning against one another and it leaves you wondering whether it’s as you think or if he’s just entertaining your wishes.

“you know something?” he speaks, voice hoarse as his teal eyes look at you from behind those beautiful lashes of his. you swallow the lump in your throat, forcing a what? out even if it’s barely audible at best. “i’ve been wanting to do that too.”

you must’ve been wrong. you’re not the one that’s a lot to handle. he is.

“why is it that you always somehow know what i’m thinking?” you wonder out loud, an arm around his shoulder for support. you’re both still as close, still as mesmerised by the other.

sae doesn’t really know what you mean by that, so he shrugs. “maybe i’m just made for you,” he comments offhandedly, and you find it hard not to shrink from the nervousness. by now, he should already be able to tell you have a crush on him. your only saving grace is that he probably feels the same. otherwise, you have no doubt he’d probably go out of his way to avoid you.

“you have quite the tongue on you, you know that?”

sae chuckles softly, a smirk lining his lips as he continues staring at you, admiring every single inch of your face. “you would know.”

completely flustered, you gently push him away, hopping off the counter and skipping towards the guest room, offering sae one last thing to think about before you shut the door on him—“maybe next time you’ll know about me too.”

and once your door is shut, sae exhales shakily, the thought of your words and their insinuation consuming him for the entire night.

you really are a lot to handle.

extras !

that heart reaction from sae was absolutely an accident. he meant to go for the thumbs up.

after that kiss, sae had to help himself. he wasn't planning on going any further, but you turned him on a lot more than he thought was possible.

despite his feelings, eita still thinks he isn't ready to commit to just one person.

your feelings towards your mother are complicated—you know she isn't loving at all now, and yet you still hope for that small chance that she might revert back to the mother who once promised to love you more than anything else. it's something that eita was always against because he knew how much it hurt you. it's part of why you don't like to speak to eita about it and hear all of those things.

bianca got drunk to forget after sae rejected her request; when she drunk dialled him, he was too busy giving you a tour of his house.

sae has never invited bianca over to his house even once. he also has never lent her any of his jerseys (as she mentioned in the start of the chapter).

taglist! @yuzurins @saeskiss @raphsimp @lust4rin @mxplesyrvp @chieeeeeee @yumekolovesyukimiya @kunirayuna39 @auranny @sereniteav @gskill @saesgrl @riseena @rikijbol @sagejin @shironagi @veecynii

#itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x you #sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

[wardenparker]

Next to Normal, part 2

Joel Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9k Warnings: Reader's age isn't pinpointed but you/she are old enough to remember the way the world worked before the Outbreak. Swearing, food. References to reader's past, trauma responses, Joel being the absolute softest and most gentle partner. Emotional vulnerability. Mutual nudity. Fingering. Hand job. Summary: In the months since you started your relationship with Joel, he has never pushed you for more. But Ellie thinks it's time to take the next step. Notes: As usual, I apologize for any typos that I might have missed. Ya girl is sleepy and there's a lot going on in life these days. This story was only going to be a one shot. And then it was juuuust going to be a two-parter. Well...this is part two of three. Stay tuned next week for the conclusion!

Read part 1 here!

Ellie fidgets at the table, frowning at the plate of breakfast that Joel put in front of her. Not because she doesn’t want it, but because she’s thinking hard about how to approach her question. It seems straightforward to her, but she’s learned in the last several months that he is touchy when you are the subject of conversation. He’s always in protection mode when it comes to you. She picks up a piece of unevenly toasted bread and frowns at it like it’s offended her until her eyes track back to Joel. “Are you gonna ask her to live with us?” She asks finally, knowing she doesn’t have to clarify who she means.

Joel stops with his fork halfway to his mouth, his own eggs nearly falling off as he stares at Ellie. “Why? What do you— has she—” he stops and drops the fork. “Why?” He wonders if you’ve dropped hint or if this is just the girl’s curiosity.

“That’s…what you’re supposed to do right? Like…old people style courtship?” She doesn’t really know what adult dating entails except that Joel seems to be spending every second of free time with you, and she likes you. You’re fun to have around and a lot easier to talk to than Joel or Tommy about some of the shit that she’s dealing with. “She hasn’t said anything. I just wondered.”

“Sometimes.” Joel admits, picking up his fork again and looking back down at his plate. “What do you think about that?” He tries to keep it casual, in untested waters dealing with this. He had never really dated while Sarah was young, too busy trying to keep everything together.

“She’s nice.” Ellie says, as though it was the easiest thing in the world. “And…we can trust her. That’s a hell of a lot better than some other people in this town.” In general she likes Jackson, but people are people and not everyone is trustworthy. Ellie knows that better than most. “Would you, like…marry her? Like Tommy and Maria?”

“I don’t know if she would ever want to get married.” Joel hasn’t discussed any of your past with Ellie, so she might not be aware of some of your hangups. He’s not ever even mentioned marriage just in case it might have been one of them. Not like he was a wedding vows kind of man himself. “I would. If she wanted to.”

“But you’re not gonna ask.” Ellie nods vaguely, not quite understanding why anybody bothers to get married anymore anyway. It seems like one of those things that doesn’t make sense in this world. A relic. “So…” The only part of it that still matters is safety, and the emotion behind all of it. “She could be here with us all the time, and I’d pretend like I don’t hear you doing stuff and that’s it? Like…” Her eyes tick up to Joel’s with rivers of curiosity in them. “Like a family?”

Joel snorts, amused at that comment because beyond kissing, doing stuff hadn’t happened. “Kind of like that. If she did, she would have say over what happens here.” He cautions. “Another adult to ‘ruin your life’.” He had rolled his eyes and laughed the first time she had come out with that statement. A true measure of a teenager, even in the shithole state the world was in, Joel could ruin her life.

“She’s better at it than you,” Ellie announces immediately, tongue stuck out as far as it will go. She doesn’t want to admit that you’re the one she goes to for advice most often now. Not him, not Maria, and definitely not Tommy. She goes to you, and you always answer her honestly.

“Ruining your life?” He lifts a brow and hums. “Maybe I need to ask her for tips then.” He’s joking, but it’s nice to see that she has found a mother-like figure in you.

“She’s better at advice.” The teen clarifies, not wanting Joel to think you’ve done anything wrong. “I mean…I’m not gonna ask you about girl stuff.”

Joel snorts and shoots her a grin. “Why not? I love everything about women.”

“But you aren’t one.” The exaggerated roll of her eyes calls him an idiot and she huffs. “Whatever. You should ask your girlfriend to live with us. That’s all I was saying.”

“Yeah?” He hums and shrugs. “I’ll see what she thinks. She can sew here, she does often enough.”

“‘Kay.” She mumbles simply, as if she didn’t just suggest an enormous change to both of their lives as casually as commenting on the color of the sky. Ellie finishes her breakfast in three bites and pushes back from the table abruptly. “School,” she adds, before grabbing her supplies from the counter nearby.

Joel watches as she bolts out the door. Since it’s not a FEDRA school, Ellie has actually been enjoying going each day. Picking up his coffee, he shakes his head. It’s Chicory but it’s better than nothing. Expecting you in a few minutes, he finishes his breakfast in peace with your own plate still warm on the stove.

The soft knock at the door comes just minutes later, and you crack the door open to slip inside without letting any heat out. The typical place for your sewing is in a large canvas bag unless it's a delicate project, so you can move it between your house or Joel's without effort. All those years of making costumes by hand for plays and parties has truly paid off. "Joel?" The smell of breakfast is welcome and comforting, and you peak around the corner to find him sitting at the table. "I just passed Ellie on her way to school. Seemed like she was in a good mood."

He chuckles and stands up, ready to pour you a cup of the coffee that is still simmering in the percolator. “She should be.” He snorts. “Christmas is coming early, apparently.”

"Or very late, depending on how you view it." Now that spring is here and the winter is solidly behind you, Jackson is flourishing again. It seems to be affecting everyone, including Ellie. A soft murmur of thanks comes with accepting the cup of coffee he has made – Joel's is far better tasting than your attempts ever were – but you set it down on the table to step closer to him with a smile. "Good morning kiss?"

“Of course.” When you ask him for a kiss, or to hold you, he’s never turned you down. Nearly in disbelief that you are so affectionate despite the past years. He steps towards you slowly and bites his lip. “Can I hold onto your hips, beautiful girl?” Sometimes you want him to and other times you would rather he not, so he still asks where you want his hands.

"Yes, please." You're feeling brave today, maybe reinvigorated by the spring just like Ellie is, and you nod as you step closer to him so he can hold you close. Maybe it's the spring, or maybe it's months of Joel always calling you his beautiful girl finally starting to sink in. You never thought anyone could think of you that way ever again, but it seems so easy with him.

He hums softly, licking his lips and shuffling closer. You are the one who moves quickly when you feel like it, but he still treats you delicately. Not because he is afraid you will shatter, but because you deserve it.

His short hair is always the perfect place for your fingers, and your arms come up around his shoulders so you can play with the hairs on the back of his neck when he leans in. These morning moments are your favourite, if you're honest. The bright sunlight and birdsong make it seem like a romantic little cottage scene, and it makes you wish that you had had the courage in the colder months to suggest that he sleep over. Or that you sleep over his place. Even just to sleep side by side would be wonderful, but you try to be cognizant of not changing things too much on Ellie all at once.

His lips are much softer since he’s been kissing you. Not as dry. Tommy rags on him, making him roll his eyes, but he would never admit that he does put a little oil on them at night to keep them from chapping and cracking when it’s his turn to stand watch at the gates.

The domesticity of the whole thing is appealing in ways that harken back to the feeling of near normalcy that Joel gives you, and you’re smiling when you finally force yourself to lean back from kissing him. “Busy day? Or do I have you to myself until Ellie gets home?”

“Nahh.” He shakes his head. “Mud’s too thick to try to set more posts, so we are waiting for it to dry in the southern area of the community garden.” He tells you. “Since I had to pull watch last night, I’m off for the next day or so.”

“It wasn’t too bad, I hope?” Overnights are tough just for the sake of a sleep schedule, but you know Joel’s shift ended at dawn and it’s a fair few hours past that now. “Did you get a nap in?”

“Not yet.” He hadn’t wanted to sleep while you were over. Not when he could spend time with you. “I will when I get tired.” He promises.

“I would have waited until after lunch to come over.” You pout at him, rather viciously, but aren’t really upset. You just don’t want Joel tiring himself out for you.

“And I wouldn’t have slept then, either.” He grumbles at you and motions towards the stove. “Eaten yet? I made you a plate.”

“Thank you.” Though you couldn’t put a finger on when it became tradition to eat breakfast together, it has certainly become a mainstay. “I brought over a few things that I’m mending for Maria, so I have plenty of work to keep me busy.” Or not is the unspoken follow up. There are definitely days that you spend entirely wrapped up in Joel.

“That’s good.” Joel nods as he motions you towards the table and brings the still warm plate over with a small hiss when it burns one of his fingers. “It’s hot.”

“Careful!” Though how he can feel anything through those callouses on his hand, you just don’t know. “Don’t need you burning your fingers off over a plate of eggs.”

He rolls his eyes and sits down beside you with a groan. “Eat.” He tells you, pointing to the food. “Pretty sure you skipped dinner last night.”

“Not intentionally.” There had been a call for anyone available to come help out with chasing some escaped animals up on the pasture north of town last night and you had gone out to help without hesitation. “But thank you for looking out for me.”

“Of course I’m going to look after you.” He huffs off your thanks and sits back down with you, his own refreshed coffee in hand. “Ellie wanted me to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” That has you stopping with your fork halfway to your mouth. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah…everything’s good.” He quickly reassures you, frowning because he hadn’t meant to worry you. He doesn’t like the scared look in your eyes, like you’re about to be punished for some imaginary wrong. “All good, I think.”

“Okay.” Dropping the tension from your shoulders is automatic — you didn’t even realize you had seized up until you were relaxing again. “What’s going on?”

“Not sayin’ we’re doin’ this, or that we gotta—” Joel reassures you to start with, knowing that you might not think that it’s a question. “But Ellie was asking me about the future, me and you.”

“We haven’t really talked about it.” For the simple reason that in this world, the future can never be determined. There’s usually no point in betting on a horse if you don’t know it will even finish the race, so a lot of people — you and Joel included — have chosen to remain undefined. Other people, people like Tommy and Maria, have held onto the old relationship conventions as a comfort in an ever changing world.

“No, we haven’t.” Joel admits. “But maybe we should. She – and me too – we were wonderin’ if maybe it’s not a bit silly that we’re trackin’ back and forth between your place and ours.”

“It’s not too much trouble, is it?” The ice cold fear in your heart is instant, and even though he had said that nothing was wrong, you can’t help the feeling of doomed certainty that the inevitable end has been reached in this otherwise happy arrangement. It was bound to come, sooner or later. Or, at least, you’ve feared that it would.

“No,” he can see that you’re still worried and he offers you his hand. Silently asking permission to hold yours and he squeezes yours gently when you slip onto into his. “We were thinkin’ that maybe you could just— live with us?” He ventures softly. “I wouldn’t— you don’t have to worry about me expectin’ anything more—” he promises quickly. “Maybe we could just, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed? If you don’t want that, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Joel…” It isn’t a great commendation of strength on your part that you start to tear up immediately, but it’s an honest reaction if there ever was one. You squeeze his hand tightly in yours for the half-second it takes you to move out of your chair and to his side. “Can I hug you? Please?”

“Of course you can.” The fact that you ask him is probably due to him asking you. Or needing to make sure you won’t get in trouble on some subconscious level, but he easily stands and holds his arms open.

The crush of how hard you push into his arms to hug him exactly as tightly as you can gets a small oof out of him, but his arms come around you just as securely. “I’ve been trying to think of how to bring it up for weeks,” you admit quietly, feeling silly about that now that he’s broken the topic himself. “About… sleeping together, I mean…”

“Oh.” He’s not sure if you mean sleeping together or sleeping together, but he doesn’t ask. “You should have said something, beautiful girl.” He murmurs quietly into your neck, enjoying the way that you curl into him.

“I wasn’t sure how.” Joel is the only person you’ve been able to be completely candid with about your fears and anxieties, and if anything it has only made him more protective. But really? You don’t mind that. “But I’m feeling braver.”

“Do you like the idea?” He asks softly. “I know you have your own space and are used to it, but we can share ours. Ellie loves the idea, so no teenage pushback.”

“I had considered asking you to move in to mine,” you admit, overwhelmed tears turning to happy in an instant. “But I didn’t want to displace Ellie.”

“If you want that, we can see what she thinks.” Joel immediately offers. “But I think our place is a little bigger. And yours is closer to everything.”

“Bigger is better.” You can agree to that right away. The room you could give Ellie in your own house is too small to be comfortable. “I don’t mind being a little further away from town if I get to be with you.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiles slightly at the comment and nods. “Okay. Well, we’ll get you moved over here as soon as you want.” He knows you will bring your supplies so he nods towards the little nook off the living room. “Thinkin’ that could be your little shop, unless you need more room?”

“I think it should work.” The little reading nook off of the living room has space for a chair and a desk, and even a small closet built into the wall of the house that has shelves for your supplies. “If you don’t mind sacrificing the space, I think it might actually be perfect.”

“Was thinkin’ I could make you some organizers for your cloth and threads and such.” He tells you, leaning into the idea. “The bookshelves would be good for that.”

“You’ll spoil me if you do that.” It sounds wonderful, and you prop your chin on his chest to look up at him. “But I’ll spoil you with cooking if you let me.”

“I’ll get working on them today.” He promises with a grin. His cooking is okay, but yours is amazing.

“And I’ll make us a celebratory supper.” It’s the least you can do, really, but the smile on your face is bright and wide.

“Yeah?” He grins at the idea and nods. “Do you wanna start moving stuff over? I can get Tommy to help.”

“That would be a heck of a surprise for Ellie.” And you laugh a little at the idea, enjoying the ease of it. “Leave for school just having posed the question, and come home from school to find me moved in.”

“Up to you.” Joel chuckles. “She likes the idea of a family.” He wants you to know that, that the girl wants you here with them.

"I know she isn't technically either of ours." You shrug slightly, not wanting to specifically bring up the children that both you and Joel have lost. "But sometimes it feels like it."

“We worry enough about her. Annoy her enough.” He frowns slightly. “Sometimes family isn’t always blood, but the people you wish were blood.”

"Family can be the people that you adopt along the way. Or the people who adopt you. It works both ways." The two of you sit back down again, hands twined together at the table as you slowly work your way through the modest breakfast that Joel made you. "After this I'll go back to my house and pack some things up while you go see if Tommy is able to help?"

“Sounds good.” He clears his throat and bites his lip. “I don’t expect you to do any more than we’ve established you’re good with.” He reminds you quietly. “I’m gonna knock before coming into the bedroom. In case you’re, uh, changing or something.”

"I can change in the bathroom," you assure him, putting down your fork to concentrate on the far more important conversation at hand. "Or...maybe it's time we crossed that bridge. Maybe not all the way to the other side, but...we could put off a little of the moving to have...private time? Before Ellie comes home from school?" Reminding yourself that you have been feeling braver lately is the key. Joel has proven endlessly that you are safe with him, and never once given you reason to doubt it.

“Is that what you want?” Joel asks seriously. He doesn’t want you to think you have to push yourself into something you aren’t ready for because of where you will sleep at night.

"I want it, and I want to be ready for that step." Wanting is the key. Or at least you hope it is. "And I hope I know you well enough to think that you won't be upset if we reach a point that I'm not comfortable with."

“You just say the word and I’ll stop, beautiful girl.” Joel can easily promise you that. “If that’s what you’re wanting, then I guess you better finish your breakfast.”

As nerve wracking as taking that next step is, you do want to. Letting fear rule your life helps no one, and reclaiming your own strength through large and small steps is something that Joel has really helped you with. Nothing says that today has to be the day that you throw off every worry, but as you finish your breakfast you do feel absolutely certain that the decision to put one proverbial foot in front of the other and move toward intimacy with the man you’ve genuinely fallen in love with.

He lets you think about it quietly, taking his own plate and coffee cup over to the sink to start on the dishes. Knowing that despite what you might say, you could change your mind before you even finish your meal. That's okay with him. He's never pushed you, even when he's straining under his jeans and has to take himself in hand when he gets home after leaving you. He would still never push, not with something like this.

He doesn’t let you do your own dishes when you’re done eating, but he never does. Joel has deeply ingrained caretaking tendencies even if he doesn’t like to admit it. “We should…go upstairs,” you murmur, leaning against the kitchen counter beside him. “It’s more comfortable than the couch.”

Joel watches you for a moment and then nodes carefully. “We can. Do you— uh, want me to give you a minute?” He asks, unsure of what you want and how far you want this to go. “Let you…get ready?”

“I’d rather have you next to me.” His presence is, after all, what makes you feel safest. For this next step you’ll need that more than ever.

“Okay.” Reaching out, he offers you his hand with a reassuring nod. “You are in charge here.” He reminds you.

“I don’t really have any expectations for this except that we’ll lay in bed together and have some privacy.” But you can now fully admit that you hope to have the courage for more. “Let’s just…start there and see what happens?”

“That sounds good to me.” He guides you towards the stairs and lets go of your hand so he can let you go up in front of him. “We’ll take it nice and slow.”

The last time you were this nervous about being in a bad with a boyfriend was probably losing your virginity in high school, but there is a hell of a lot more emotional weight involved this morning than there was then. Joel means more to you than any of the others ever did, and that just makes you want this to go well even more. At the top of the stairs he’s beside you again and you slip your hand into his.

The walk to the bedroom doesn’t take long, the door open and his bed still rumpled. He’s never been a make the bed kind of guy and he bites his lip a little sheepishly. “Didn’t think you’d be up here.” He admits with a rueful grin. “Would have at least tossed the comforter over everything.”

“I like it better knowing the real you.” Your hand in his slips around his waist to keep him close.

Joel hums and walks towards it and then pauses a few feet from it. “Do you want to lay down with me, beautiful girl?”

“I feel like I should at least take my sweater off first.” The t-shirt you have on underneath it is typically worn but comfortable, and you find that today stripping off your warm sweater feels like taking off a lot more clothes than it really is.

Joel takes off his boots, but he leaves everything else on. It’s just a t-shirt and a flannel with his jeans. “Make sure you’re comfortable. What side of the bed do you like?” He’s a middle of the bed sleeper, so wherever you want is fine with him. He’ll adjust.

“The left, usually.” Being boxed in doesn’t feel particularly good to you, for obvious reasons. That doesn’t matter right now though, and you take off your own boots to leave to the side with Joel’s, socks stuffed neatly inside. “Is that okay?”

“Perfect.” He nods and motions to the bed. “Test it out. See if you like yours better.” If you do, he will drag that damn thing down here.

You won’t, you know that, but getting into Joel’s bed with him is a surprisingly emotional moment. Without any extra preamble — only because you’re restraining yourself from babbling out of nerves — you slide under the rumpled covers and inhale a breath of the scent that is purely his. It’s infinitely relaxing, and you close your eyes for a second to revel in how right it feels. Fear has made you think it might be awkward, but no. You’re supposed to be next to Joel. This is where you belong.

Joel is slightly tense beside you. Not wanting to jostle you too much, but he clears his throat. “I’m going to put my arm behind your head. Is that okay?”

“Let’s…” looking between you, you know that Joel asks about every single action to be courteous. To be cautious, even. And while you don’t mind being delicate to him, this might be a chance to start moving past some of that hesitance. For you, too. “Let’s just say we’re going to get comfortable?” You suggest. “Asking about every single movement…it’s going to make this harder than it needs to be. So…it’s okay with me that you touch wherever you need to while we figure this out. This…how to be comfortable together.”

He huffs out a small laugh at himself and nods. “If you don’t like something, you tell me, you got me?” He tells you, raising his brows seriously. “This bed, it’s gonna be your refuge, not your prison.”

“Okay.” Nodding, you slide closer to him under the blanket and move your arm so he can slide his under your pillow if he wants to. “I’m sorry if this is awkward…”

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry about.” Joel chides softly, used to hearing that when you want to pull back. “We’re just getting comfortable, that’s all.” His hand settles on your arm and he strokes his fingers over your skin lightly. “We got all the time in the world.”

Shifting even closer, you tuck yourself into his side and sigh at the bulk of him. It really is something primal in the way it relaxes you, having that broad frame of his nearby but never threatening. Sliding your arm around his waist is easy like this, and you press yourself into him comfortably. “Kinda wish I’d gotten brave enough for this ages ago,” you admit quietly.

“It’s okay, beautiful girl.” He promises, slowly sliding his hand up and down your back as you start to slowly cover half his body with your own. He pauses for just a moment before his hand ventures very sedately past the small of your back and over the swell of your butt. Giving you time to tell him no if you wanted.

Instead of hesitating it actually makes you grin, the slow and careful way that he reaches forward. Feeling admittedly cheeky, you shift your hips to wiggle your ass under his tentative fingers and end up smiling again. "It's okay, handsome," you assure him, giving him the permission that he's silently seeking. "Go ahead."

Joel groans and cups your ass firmly. “You have a great ass.” He growls softly. “Thought so from the beginning.”

"The beginning, huh?" It's something of a relief to find out that Joel was just as interested in you as you were in him early on. The first time he'd admitted it, you had literally sighed. There was a breath then, like there is now, that you didn't realize you had been holding. "I'm glad you like it."

He smirks slightly and moves to caress your ass like he had your back. “When you’re feelin’ up to it, my lips are lonely.” He teases, puckering them slightly.

It's small, and it's teasing, but it lifts so much of the tension in the room that you actually laugh and move in a little more with eagerness. If there's one undeniable truth about Joel Miller it's that he's a fantastic kisser, and you're not one to give that up when it's being offered. Especially not right now. Not when your time alone with him is both assured and indulgent.

Your lips aren’t hesitant this time. They are sure and still curved into a smile when you press them to his. Making his own laugh into your mouth that much sweeter. He wanted this to light, there’s so much heaviness in your lives, this should be as light as it can. Especially with your past. Taking the moment for the simplicity that it is.

There's something different about the taste of him this morning, like kissing Joel is somehow sweeter for the pure and simple reason that you're in bed together and nothing else. Your hand creeps up his arm and around his shoulder so your fingers can find their way into his hair, and the bubbly, joyous feeling in your chest bubbles over when you summon the courage to be the one to run your tongue along his lower lip in an open mouthed kiss. It's probably bolder than you've ever done before but the rightness of this feeling just can't be overstated.

Humming in surprise, Joel settles back slightly and lets you take charge of your kiss. Waiting to see if you would slide your tongue into his mouth or if you will leave it at just opened mouth to breath into each other. His hand squeezes your ass gently, encouraging you to do whatever you want and immediately goes back to caressing like it had before.

His hand feels huge like this, but not in an overwhelming way. In a way that makes you feel precious and...unexpectedly...a little worshipped. Up here in this bedroom nothing can hurt you, and that is another step forward in this sort of emboldening feeling that is brewing inside you. It's that burst of boldness that has you pushing into his side just a little bit more, tongue sliding into his mouth to relearn that part of him that you have explored only a handful of times before.

Joel grunts, his cock twitching and starting to harden in his pants, but he ignores it. Focusing on you as he continues to kiss you and caress you. Enjoying how you are unfurling for him.

The heat that rolls off of him in waves is intoxicating, making your head swim like it does whenever the two of you let the urge take over. It isn’t often, but it’s always good, and this morning feels even better.

The kisses are slow, languid. Pretending that time doesn't exist and every breath shared between you is suspended. He feels the way you are slowly starting to grinding on him, his thigh between yours.

Shallow, short, panting breaths are all the two of you can manage. Some gulps of air and soft, muffled moans. The floods your mind and your instincts and for the first time in over a year pleasure is what overtakes every thought, not fear.

He watches you, your eyes closed and your finger tight in his hair. Not because you are afraid, but because you are wanting more. He groans into your mouth and his hands settle on your hips, encouraging you to move if you want to with a small nudge.

It's like your mind has gone blank of everything except him, and the bliss of it is that you finally can let it go blank. The only thing you even need to know about in the world is Joel, and he is right here beside you. Half underneath you, technically. He not only wants you here with him but is actively devouring you at the same rate you are devouring him, and the freedom is nearly electric. Rocking hips have a mind of their own, and it really does take longer than you're proud of to realize that you're evening doing it. Catching yourself, you barely manage to pull back and force yourself to look Joel in the eyes through hazy vision. "Is...I didn't ask...if it's okay?"

“It’s always okay, beautiful girl.” Joel’s voice is rough, lust filled. “Whatever you want, you just do it to me.”

“I—I don’t really know what I want,” you admit, trying to catch your breathe and keep your entire body from setting on fire in his arms, but not succeeding very well. “Except…more.”

“You could let me— unbutton you jeans?” He asks as he nudges his nose against your pulse. “Use my fingers to make you feel good?”

It would be a lie to claim you hadn’t imagined what it would feel like. That you hadn’t actually dreamt about how pleasurable time with Joel would play out. While this isn’t quite like any of the scenarios you had dreamt up, it is real and it is happening right now, and you nod fiercely before pushing in again to kiss him with every ounce of courage built up inside you.

He knows this is a big step for you and he doesn’t rush it. Kissing you back while he slowly pulls his hand around your back to the front of your jeans. Pausing for a second to wait for any protest before he flicks the button open and leisurely pulls down your zipper.

He gets no protests at all, but a deep sigh bordering a moan that comes out of you with that deceptively small act of opening your pants. Your free hand slides just under the hem of his shirt, hot skin burning your fingers at first contact but only in the very best way.

“Tell me if you don’t like something,” he reminds you softly when his fingers first dip below the threadbare elastic band of your panties. “Only want you to feel good.”

Any flash of discomfort, even a small one, is too much and you lean back to find Joel’s dark eyes watching you. “Let me just take them off?” You ask quietly, not wanting to verbalize the fact that the fight pull of fabric against your skin hits a memory you don’t want to relive. As exposing as it is, naked is better.

“Whatever you want.” His hand eases out of your panties and he lays back, showing you that he’s not going to keep on.

“I want you.” The clarification is important, even as you slip off your jeans and underwear, letting them fall off the side of the bed in irrelevance. Shirt and bra are next, and even the act of shedding your own clothing — making your own choice to do this — frees another layer of fear from your shoulders. “I don’t want fear to be in the way of I can help it.”

“Do you want me to strip down?” Joel asks, wondering if you won’t like him being clothed and you naked. “How do you want me, beautiful girl?”

“How ever you’re comfortable.” Just because you stripped down does not mean that he has to. The state of your relation as always been respect and not reciprocity.

He decides that he wants to strip down too. He knows he’s not going to do anything that will make him cum, but if you’re going to live here, you should be comfortable with him.

It definitely more than you ever expected to happen today, but as Joel sheds his clothes beside you, there’s also a sense of peace in it. Reclaiming intimacy — not even sex, just intimacy and closeness — is like relieving an enormous burden that you aren’t ever sure could be lifted.

When he reaches the tired, worn out boxer briefs he is wearing, the outline of his hard cock clearly showing, he hesitates. “Would you like me to leave these on?”

A fair question, and though you hesitate for a moment, you decide firmly on, “No.” This decision to move forward together is too important to you, and it’s not as if you aren’t attracted to him. You have eyes, after all. “If you’re okay with it, I…I want to see you. Maybe…touch you?”

He groans quietly, nodding as he hooks his fingers into the band. “You can touch me wherever you want.” He promises.

He has never protested once about waiting for you to be ready. Never pressed and never pushed. Now you only hope that you won’t disappoint him when you’re actually ready to take the next step. “You can touch me, too.”

“My daddy was never good for much.” Joel starts as he slides his hands down, bringing the boxers with him. Grunting as he bends over to steps out of them. “But he taught me something that’s stuck with me.” Standing up, he looks you in your eyes. “It was about holdin’ a gun, but I guess it’s the same with holdin’ a woman.” He tells you. “Hold her like you love her. Slow and gentle, steady. That’s what I aim to do with you.”

“I—I do love you.” He wasn’t trying to get you to say it, or even saying it himself, but sitting up in his bed with a blanket around you instead of clothes…if you can’t say it now, then when can you? “You don’t have to…to say it back or anything. I just—it felt like the right time to say.”

You are sitting down, but he steps closer to you and kneels down, not wanting to tower over you to intimidate. “Baby, you should know that I— I love you.” He murmurs quietly, reaching for your hand. “Everything about you.”

"Get back in bed, Joel." Even with one of his big hands holding on to both of yours, you tug at him slightly to urge him to join you. "I...I really want to be close to you right now."

“Okay.” He groans again as he gets to his feet. “Fuckin’ knees.” He complains quietly. “Too fuckin’ old.”

“No more grand romantic gestures that involve kneeling,” you tease, pulling back the blanket so he can climb in beside you.

“Don’t worry about that.” He chuckles as he slides into the bed. “Probably the cold, but it’s been actin’ up.”

“Still.” Your arms are open to him this time, reminding yourself that there’s no need to hide. “I like you in one piece.”

This time, he is the one that is curling up to you, making sure he doesn’t seem to hover over you just in case. His cock is against your hip and he leans in to kiss you again. “You have me.”

To have it put for you so easily — that he’s yours are much as you are his — makes so much difference. It’s freeing instead of entrapping. Love rather than possession. It makes you melt into his kiss, hands grasping for him rather than being tentative about their touch. Not exactly greedy, but definitely no longer afraid.

It’s almost too easy, the way you eagerly fall into his kiss again. Your determination shining through and his hand lands on your hip again, warm and seeking. “Spread your legs, beautiful girl.” He murmurs against your lips.

It isn’t an order, but an urging that you happily agree to. Laying back on his pillows and letting him come that much closer to you, urging him to lean over your body. It isn’t looming, like he’s afraid it could be. Instead it feels like protection.

He starts at your shoulder, hands deciding they want to touch every inch of skin you will allow him. Lips kissing your chin, your jaw, just behind your ear. “So beautiful for me.” He rasps out. “So soft.”

Joel is full of endless praises, and you’ve caught yourself sometimes wondering if that’s something he does just for you or if it’s an old habit of his that goes back to the time before. It doesn’t truly make a difference, but you’ve wondered. The feeling of his hands everywhere on you could get overwhelming — or you fear that it could — but it’s just Joel. It’s the man who only makes you feel safe and protected and appreciated, and you sink down into the mattress with a sigh when his hand moves down from your shoulder. “Only for you,” you gasp out, his lips pressing the sensitive spot on your next just below your ear.

When his hand cups your breast, he doesn’t squeeze. It’s more of a massage, a gentle caress and he rubs your nipple with his thumb. “That’s my good girl.” He hums. There’s been plenty of times that you’ve gone over phrases or nicknames that might trigger you, so he’s confident that you won’t react negatively.

“Joel.” Things that seemed silly years ago aren’t so silly to you now, and the cooing softness of Joel’s usually deep, rough voice is so soothing as his work-calloused hands slide over your skin. Your far hand is tangled in the blanket as he leans over you, but the other anchors you to him instead. It explores the parts of his body you haven’t touched before — trim waist and strong thighs instead of the soft stomach and broad shoulders that you know so well. “Joel. Joel.” His name is a chant on your lips, growing shallower and lighter each time.

“That’s it.” He encourages, continuing to play with your breast until he feels your thighs press together and shift, wanting friction. “Gonna take care of you.”

It’s a promise, one you want to drown yourself in as much as you want to drown in kissing him. Deciding that you can only really do one of those things, you surge upward to press an open mouthed kiss to his lips, inviting him to devour you, too.

His hand has to nudge your thighs open again after his palm skims over your belly. Caressing it softly and he would say something, but reminding you of your past wouldn’t be right for this moment. Instead, his fingers comb through the soft curls covering you, gently working through them to slick skin underneath.

The deep sigh that emanates from you is almost revolutionary, and for the first time in longer than you care to remember, your eyes slip shut in pleasure to focus solely on the feeling of Joel’s hands on your body. Forgetting where you end and he begins was a seemingly impossible task not so long ago, but now you moan softly and shift your legs open for him even wider like a flower opening up for the sun.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good for me.” He moans, cock twitching at your surrender to the pleasure and he loves that you aren’t tensing up. His fingers slide through your folds, gathering the wetness and he starts a slow figure eight around your sex. Curling your entrance and coming back up to slide around your clit through your lips. “Feel good, beautiful girl?”

“So good.” It’s unbelievable just how good but this is part of Joel’s magic. He can just make everything else fade away. Your hips tilt up and you sigh again, sinking further into the mattress. “More, honey? Please?”

“You want my fingers inside you, beautiful girl?” He asks as he kisses down your throat. His mouth waters at the thought of suckling at your tits and he looks up at you to make sure you’re still on the same page. ‘More’ could mean just more of his rubbing your clit.

“Yes. God, please.” Nodding almost frantically, the hand that you had had tangled in his blanket comes up to grasp his shoulder and hold him close so you can kiss him endlessly.

He wants to chuckle at how desperate you sound but he just hums softly. Aware that you are actually starting to enjoy yourself. His fingers make another trip around your clit and this time, he doesn’t circle your entrance, just slowly starts to press, feeling you start to yield.

The soft moan he gets from you almost immediately makes him shiver, but you’re lost to it. Every sensation in your body has narrowed down to Joel’s touch and pushed every other thought out of your mind. Maybe he is that good with his hands or maybe it’s just how much you love him, or maybe it’s both. No matter what it is, it’s floating away with you on a cloud.

Your body doesn’t resist, you aren’t pushing him away. If anything, your hips are rolling down to meet his touch. He groans your name and nuzzles your breast with his cheek, his nose, before he finally wraps his lips around the stiff peak.

That extra burst of sensation makes you moan out loud, back arching off the bed and fingers digging into Joel’s arm to keep him from reeling back or second guessing himself. Close Is where you want him and you’re going to keep him there.

He hisses in pleasure against your breast, drunk on the sight of your eyes closed and lips parted so perfectly as you moan again. He doesn’t stop, just slowly curling his fingers up inside you to search for that pleasure spot.

Each time you moan for him is like a revelation all your own. Your body is doing all of its own talking now, rolling like waves in the ocean and pulled toward Joel’s own body like a magnet. The pull between you is so strong that when he finds your g-spot you keen and moan out his name loud enough that anyone in the house could have easily heard, but you’re too wrapped up in him to care or notice.

“That’s it, beautiful girl? That’s your spot?” He pulls off your breast long enough to crow about finding that place before he is suckling again, his fingers concentrating on that small spot just to hear you keen again.

“I—fuck—yes!” If he had asked if you even have a spot you would have said no, but he’s found it with seemingly no effort whatsoever. Like his intuitive ability to read your body language for emotions, he can read it for your pleasure as well. There’s no doubt in your mind that he could probably pluck you like an instrument of he wanted to but right now all he wants is to hear your pleasure so you do not hold back. The shock of being so vocal is one thing, but for Joel? For Joel you would repeat your yeses and moans and chants of his name for the whole world to hear.

He listens to you, feels you. Wanting to make sure that no old ghosts come between you and your goal. He moans, cock twitching and throbbing against your thigh as he continues to focus on you, ignoring his body’s demands for your own.

It might surprise him even more than it does you, when you reach for him. Your other hand had settled on his hip and was surely squeezing imprints into his flesh, but pleasure has so much taken over your mind that the slide of your hand from his hip to wrapping your fingers experimentally around the thickness of his cock makes both of you gasp.

His eyes close and he can’t help the experimental rock of his hips before he pulls himself back. Reminding himself that he needs to focus on his task.

“It’s okay.” Murmured just as soon as you turn your head, you open your eyes and place lingering kisses on Joel’s jaw. “I want to. Please?”

“Whatever you want.” Joel promises you, his dark eyes on you and alight with passion. “Just let me know what you want.”

“I want to make you feel good, too.” It is the shared aspect of the experience that makes all the difference. That one of you isn’t taking everything from the other, but that you’re sharing the moment together. That’s what makes it an act of passion and love rather than just a sexual encounter. And for you? That makes all the difference.

“You are, beautiful girl.” He promises, his fingers slick and making the most beautiful sounds as they move in and out of you.

As the pair of you devolve back into moans and sighs of each other’s names, the coil of pleasure that tightens in your belly is unmistakable. The experimental strokes of your hand wrapped around his length become surer, pace quickening, your whole body rocketing toward your own end and wanting to take him with you despite knowing that it probably isn’t going to happen that fast. It’s the haze of actual, beautiful, loving pleasure that’s settled over you like a blanket, and it’s what you want more than anything.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Joel is moaning his encouragement and huffing against your breast. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you’re on the edge. You gonna cum for me?”

It’s possible you’ve entirely forgotten how to speak with how close you are, and your eyes slip closed again when you nod almost frantically. The moan from your lips is half his name and half incoherent begging, asking for the release that is so literally right at his fingertips. That only he can give you and that you hope past hoping that you can give to him too with each stroke of your fist.

He smirks, “yeah, you are.” He coos, his voice heavy with lust. “You’re gonna cum all in my hand for me.” He can feel the way your body is tensing under him, ready for the perfect moment to break apart in bliss. “My beautiful girl’s gonna cum.”

It is as much permission as you could look for, and your body seems to know it. The bow and bend in your back sharpen as the sound is strangled from your throat, cutting off his name with a desperate cry as you fall apart for his hand.

There’s something breathtaking about the way you cry out. Body quaking and trembling, not in fear, but in rapture.

The world stands still for those few moments. There is nothing at all except bliss, and the bulk of Joel's broad body above you, and the way he twitches in your hand seeming to run in perfect sync with the spasms of your own body as you come down from the clouds.

Joel doesn’t rush you, drawing it out with the slower curl of his fingers than before, kissing up your body before capturing your moans for him greedily with his mouth. Wanting to keep them for himself as he enjoys your orgasm with you.

“Joel.” It’s more of a whisper than a cry this time, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. “Tell me what you want?”

“Touch me.” He begs. “However you want. I want you to just touch me.”

Your hand had fallen away from him to make sure you didn’t squeeze too hard and accidentally hurt him at the peak or your own orgasm. Now you touch your fingers between your thighs to wet them with your own slick and wrap your hand around his cock again, feeling it twitch with the pressure and friction. Every stroke builds on the last, wanting him to feel every bit as good as you do right now.

Your touch, this time so much more sure of itself, makes his eyes fall close and his body rolls onto his back. Your own follows him so you are draped over him like a perfectly warm blanket. “Fuck, fuck, you are so— so fucking perfect.” He moans quietly. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

Praise is absolutely not lost on you, and every murmur and moan makes you work that much harder. Learning what works for him and what doesn’t isn’t difficult when Joel is so vocal, and before too long his hips are stuttering as he tries to chase the rhythm of your hand.

A shudder runs through his body, unsure if he would ever have you touch him like this. Panting as he curls his toes and his stomach tightens. “Gonna cum.” He warns you roughly.

“Show me.” You keep the pace of your movements and the same pressure with your hand and watch every movement in his body. “Let me see you, honey.”

He grunts, nodding seriously and his eyes flutter open again to focus on you. “Love you.” He knows you adoring hearing the words and he’s worked on being more vocal with you. It hadn’t helped him with Tess, he regretted not vocalizing his feelings before she died and he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“I love you too, Joel.” And what a hell of a morning for it to be said for the first few times. You’ll never forget a single thing about any of it. Especially not the blissful relaxation on his face just half a second after every muscle in his body tenses, that moment of explosive pleasure washing over him in an enormous wave.

In the last year, orgasms had been necessary. Functional. Something to be dealt with quickly when the need came over him. Often hurried and moved on from, but from the way you keep stroking his cock and cooing after he starts to cum, he knows you have every intention of drawing this out for him. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.”

The splatter over his stomach and down your hand is a beautiful sight, one that you take in greedily before laying back beside him in bed. “I love you,” you murmur again, letting yourself sigh and bask in the moment.

Joel pants, nodding as he tries to catch his breath. “Hope to hell you do.” He chuckles. “Holy shit.”

“I do.” And it rests gently in your chest like a bird happily resting from its flight. “So much.”

He reaches for you, wrapping his arm around your back and he starts to stroke it idly. “How was that, beautiful girl? Was it worth the risk?” He knows it’s cost you to expose yourself again, mentally and physically. So he doesn’t want you to regret it.

“I’ve never been safer than I am with you.” Of that, you are completely certain. And you’ve never been more certain than you are in this moment.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

N2N: @missladym1981

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #The Last of US #TLoU #TLoU HBO #reader with trauma

[astupidweeb69]

You know x-virus don’t get enough love…. Do you have any head cannons regular or nsfw (maybe both)??

I've been thinking about this guy a lot lately for some reason. Also I've never written for Cody before so hopefully this came out okay.

I was going to work on Toby's but.... I have more inspiration for Cody at the moment. He absolutely doesn't get enough love!

X-Virus Headcannons

SFW

Isn't related to Toby at all. In fact doesn't really look like him either. Sure, he's got the brown hair, but he looks waaay more dorky than Toby does. While Toby has kind of a boy-next-door-from-hell look to him, Cody is more slender and works out less. He looks like your typical STEM student (sickly complexion, poor nutrition, etc.). His whole schtick requires him to stay indoors most of the time, in a make-shift lab.

Has a refrigerated van, which he paid to be converted to safely transport whatever science experiments he's got going on in a temperature-controlled environment.

He tries to stay in one place. He's less of a drifter than most of the other creeps but sometimes... the things he does requires him to uproot his life and start over in another town. (No Cody you can't just infect your landlord with a mutated form of tuberculosis when they raise your rent! There will be consequences!)

Has kind of a nasally voice. I feel like he always has a bit of a cold too.

Ironically has a shitty immune system, and probably drinks those Airborne Immune Support drink mixes like it's his job. Also a germaphobe, wearing medical gloves all the time, and his hands are dry and cracked from overusing sanitizer.

LOVES Re-animator. He's rewatched that movie more times than he can count. But he has a love for science fiction movies in general, with horror elements to them. Like Alien.

Also loves zombie apocalypse movies, but that's an obvious one. Specifically 28 Days Later and World War Z.

Sometimes he's like... should I try to make a zombie virus? nah.... unless...?

I also think he was raised by a single father, who worked for a large pharmaceutical company.

Antisocial. I know Toby and him are compared a lot and people give them similar 'hyperactive' personalities, but I don't see that for Cody at all.

Cody's more focused, and is less inclined to interact with others. He doesn't really get lonely?

I'd say he'd get along okay with someone like EJ (both like science, ya know?).

Toby and him hang out a bit - they'll stay in and watch movies together. Or Cody will tag along with him to a bar and watch as Toby fails to pick up anybody. Cody wouldn't say it to his face, but it makes him feel better about his own social skills to see Toby strike out like that.

NSFW (Under the cut!)

I don't know how he'd find himself in this situation - but if he DID have a partner.... the sex would be kind of bland at first?

He doesn't know what he wants and frankly is too much of a germaphobe to get up close and personal with someone he doesn't know well.

You'd have to spend months getting to know him for him to feel comfortable to engage in anything sexual.

I think at the start of the relationship, he'd want to experiment with voyeurism.

He'd be across the room watching you touch yourself, giving you directions while he slowly strokes his cock, loving the feeling of ordering you around.

But as things escalate, of course, he'd give in to his urges. However, the voyeurism would become how he likes to foreplay.

Out of all the creeps (most of whom I view as being dominant) he's actually pretty tame.

He whimpers a lot, and it sounds almost pathetic when he moans. He's been holding out for so long for the right person, and when he finally gets to fuck he's absolutely drunk off of you.

That said, his sex drive is about average.

One of his roleplay fantasies is him being the experienced scientist, and you being his lovely little assistant.

Probably started after the first time you helped him in his lab.

He just kept thinking of you in a tiny little lab coat, bent over his desk - papers and test tubes falling to the ground while his hips piston into you.

#creepypasta #my writing #fanfiction #creepypasta headcanon #x-virus x reader #x-virus smut #x-virus headcannons #creepypasta headcannons #creepypasta smut #ticci toby #creepypasta x reader

[inventedfangirling]

My friends i watched love for love's sake and I swear i don't have a fckin clue where even to start.

I know a lot has been said about the show already and i know a LOT more would be said about in the future, but i just can't help adding my own two cents to one of the most thought-provoking, moving and brilliantly executed pieces of art i have ever seen.

I'm not gonna go on about just how much I loved Tae Myungha's character and how he is one of the most interesting people I've seen on screen in a long time. I'm not gonna talk about how unbelievably squishable Yeowoon is and how his duality totally ruined me that I need him to get into my pocket and NEVER leave. And oh I need him to put Myungha in his pocket while at it. I'm also not gonna talk about precious 'of course i'm gay, i've always liked girls, you don't know how to be loved' Sangwon is to me, cos if i start I can promise you I will most certainly never stop.

So for the sake of the rest of this post, I'm moving on. (NOT REALLY THO)

I just LOVE LOVE LOVE all the interpretations that people are coming up with, LOVE LOVE LOVE the show for filling in the gaps but LOVE it more for still leaving room for pretty thought-flowers to bloom around.

You know those artworks or puzzles that have something obvious hidden in a maze of confusion and haze until somebody points out the pattern, you zoom out and realize wow it was this clear all along?? That's a LOT of what watching the show felt like to me. The pattern being how inexplicably inter-connected Myungha and Yeowoon are. Not because they are each other's blorbos, but because why they are eo's blorbos. Why they don't care for each other from a sense of sympathy, but from empathy, despite not knowing the depth of their connections explicitly.

Eventhough we do see glimpses of it from the start, it only gets more clear later how Myungha and Yeowoon really are mirror versions of eo. How the first time Myungha sees Yeowoon he's stopping him from killing himself, and then we later find out that Myungha ends up killing himself. How both of it was triggered by a series of disappointments in life, starting with a troubling family and ending with a grandmother who passes away. Of how both of them seem to really have no one else to call their own in the world. Of leading very lonely depressing lives, that seem to never have a glimpse of hope. How both of them seem closed off, but inside they really are so fragile it hurts to perceive the depth of their feelings. It all comes and hits you once you've taken the whole show in and have gotten a few 1000 seconds to think about it.

We start off with myungha's character wanting to make his blorbo's character happy, and he's in it cos he cares about him, he doesn't have to think about himself. A 'pathetic' character experiencing a lot of pain, what's not to love, Myungha thinks, not realizing that it's his own mirror self that he is feeling so much for. Myungha sees Yeowoon's problems as someone from outside and is therefore able to objectively look at it, and approach it proactively, taking so many steps to help him, my favourite (and arguably most important) of which is the effort he puts in to help form yeowoon a friend circle. Something that he couldn't do for himself cos he never even considered a possibility of that. Why would anybody want to be around him? He ruins everything right?

And then to go on despite believing that, to falling in love, to deciding to choose to save both his grandma and yeowoon, finally FINALLY taking control into his hands even if for a bit to say what he wants, to spending the last few days together, to breaking up cos he just thinks the worst of himself, cos he doesn't know better. And then to the eternal darkness, where moments before leaving, just like in his real life, he realizes he wants in, he wants to live, he wants to love, but more importantly this time, he wants to try being loved. Even if it's difficult, he wants to try.

I love how eventhough the show is heavily Myungha focused, we get meaningful dynamics with multiple characters. Round eyed gasp inducing moments dont just belong to the two mains but also to sangwon whose line to myungha post the stalker incident just ruined me and really set the tone for whatever the show was later revealed to be all about.

I love how complicated the narrative got while still telling a more or less coherent story, how in hindsight, a lot of it makes even more sense now. How as Myungha gets closer to yeowoon his self-hating tendencies manifest in the form of debuffs and errors, because of his own brain's inability to perceive himself as somebody deserving love. His childhood trauma and the numerous rejections life has given him, because of the kind of person he turned out to be because of those rejections, all appear to stand in his way of happiness, as if he can't help being a bundle of sadness and a harbinger of problems. Even as he says he doesn't believe in destiny or fate. Or as we initially are made to believe in the game as, yeowoon's happiness, when in reality this was never about yeowoon at all. Yeowoon never existed in the first place and in "real" life, he never does.

I was blown away by how Myungha is in fact no longer in the mortal world but that fact doesn't hurt as much as that he would have to leave a world where he could finally feel happiness, feel loved, feel cared for, even if he consciously tried avoiding them. They still came to him, they still cared for him, they still fiercely wanted to protect him, (Cos he is just a tiny meow meow, who has been hurt a lot in his life, who wouldn't wanna caress and nurse him back to health HUH) just as much as he wanted to protect them.

And coming to the question of what's the game, where is it happening and who orchestrated it? It's definitely set in the afterlife or the limbo between life and the life after. It could be the author friend doing it, or the author friend has given myungha's brain the power to control the game OR of course the possibility that this has all been happening in myungha's head the whole time.

Whatever it is, the whole point has been to take Myungha from a person not wanting to live his life, feeling so devoid of love and happiness, to a journey of love and friendship, of the importance of fostering connections, of making efforts, of helping others, but equally of letting others help you, of putting your hand out and asking for that help. And in my head I love it most when I think of it as entirely Myungha orchestrated. Of it being a desperate cry of pain to himself, from himself, to save himself. Yeowoon and the game and the missions and all of it was for him to see himself in ways he never allowed himself to be seen as, to take care of himself in ways he never has, to love himself like he has never known to. To finally run towards himself, even if pathetic and sad, the Cha Yeowoon of the game, the person waiting at the end of the finishing line was the Tae Myungha in him all along.

You know that tumblr quote 'do it for her' but its about your future self, right? Myungha rooting for Yeowoon is sort of like that? When he's protecing him, he's protecting himself? When he's cheering for him, he's actually cheering and rooting for himself? When he's loving him, he makes space and place to love himself?

I just love the idea of a (self) love story.

Eitherway Yeowoon x Myungha supremacy.

Extreme(ly accurate?) Interpretations apart, Love for Love's Sake is truly one of the, if not THE finest (self) love story I might have ever seen.

As a person who avoids fics/books with mcd or shows with tragic endings, it felt absolutely revolutionary to me that my biggest joy and relief came from the fact that the main character is dead (the thought of myungha having to leave the game was too much to handle) and he gets to live in this game where he has a cute boyfriend, a supportive, caring friend group and his grandma back. it wasn't the game that was temporary or non-existent, it was actually his life outside. And that's not bad? Cos this is a story and Myungha isn't real, but as real as he is, he got his happy ending.

The show taught us to love, to see love, to be loved and to share that love. It told us that maybe the afterlife is a videogame simulation where we all get to live in friendship and love forever, with our blorbo and our friends. There are a lot worse lives to live. And I'm glad he found it in himself, enough love, courage and hope to write himself a better one :')

#love for love's sake #love supremacy zone #bless this show #tae myung ha #cha yeowoon #korean bl #myungha x yeowoon #kbl #already 2024 favourite #i'd be shocked if anything could beat it #this is ofc just my own interpretation #meta #love for love's sake meta #okbai i have to post it now or i will be writing for EVER

[lovelyjj]

Heyyy, I’ve come to ask for your words again, can we do a JJ finding out you write poetry about him?? I write poetry and was wonderin, thanks in advance!!!

💜 anon

Poetry

jj maybank x reader

wc: 937

a/n: one of the poems I found on pinterest creds to the original here is the link

It was no secret that you and JJ were close. The two of you were the perfect pair. You were always together. What started off as a friendship quickly turned into a romantic relationship.

You and JJ practically lived together. You had a couple drawers in his room at John Bs. You were always over there spending time with JJ. You liked your little routine. You went to work at a coffee shop a couple mornings a week.

Then you went to the château to meet up with JJ. You would do everything together. You’d go on rides on his dirt bike, swimming in the marsh, going out on the boat, drinking in the hot tub, the list was endless.

This particular evening you were in the hot tub with the pogues. You were drinking and laughing and enjoying each others company. It was times like these you found yourself grateful for having such great friends.

JJ pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist. He rested his chin on your shoulder. He wasn’t really listening to the conversation at all. He was distracted with your body pressed against his.

“So how are things with you and Pope,” you asked Kiara who was right next to you.

“It’s good it’s just kinda weird since we’ve been friends for so long and now that we’re together it’s like how do we do this. But i like him a lot,” Kiara whispered.

“That’s good,” you responded.

“You and JJ seem as great as ever.” Kiara commented.

You nestled into JJ’s touch, “Yeah we are.”

“I’m happy for you” Kiara replied.

You talked with your friends while enjoying the warm water. When you were finished in the hot tub you went inside the château.

—————

The next morning you left the château early to go to work. JJ was bummed because he loved waking up with you. Eventually a couple hours later JJ woke up.

JJ decided to get up and get ready for the day. He was looking for a certain shirt that you happen to wear to bed and go home in. He was looking everywhere. He even looked in your drawers.

He sorted through your clothes in the drawer. He lifted up your clothes and that’s when he found a notebook. Now JJ wasn’t one to go through and look at your private things but he wondered what a notebook hidden under clothes would have in it.

JJ opened it to the first page and what he saw shocked him. It was a poem.

he is like sunshine

filling me up with joy

he is my sunshine boy

Then he flipped to the next page, another poem.

I think i found the love of my life

i think i might one day be his wife

when he kisses me I feel alive

when he holds me is when I think we thrive

He flipped the the next page after that.

blonde locks blue eyes

tan skin pink lips

he looks like a dream

Another page.

I’ve tasted your lips,

your skin

and never realized

I was deprived.

Your kiss, your touch

that awakens my soul,

making me want more.

I didn’t know

I would crave you so much.

I never realized

I was even homesick,

until

I found you.

The notebook was filled with poetry about him. He was filled with warmth. He couldn’t believe you wrote love poems about him. JJ thought that was one of the nicest and sweetest thing anybody has ever done for him.

JJ thought you were a skilled writer. Your poetry was perfect. He almost cried he was so moved by your beautiful writing. JJ made a mental note to bring this up to you when he sees you next.

——————

A few days later you were on your way to the château. You missed JJ even though it’s only been a few days. The plan was to just hang out and watch movies nothing special.

John B was in the kitchen when you walked in.

“Hey John B,” you greeted.

“Hey Y/N, JJ is in his room,” he stated.

“Thanks,” you smiled.

You made your way to JJ’s room excited to see the man of your dreams. You knocked on his door and he said to come in.

“Hi Jayj,” you exclaimed.

“Hi sweetheart,” JJ got up from his bed and gave you a hug.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and when you pulled away from the hug you gave him a kiss on the mouth.

“Mhhmmm, missed you mama,” JJ hummed after the kiss.

“I missed you too,” you replied.

“I wanted to ask you something,” JJ requested.

“Yeah sure shoot.”

“Um I found this journal, and and it’s filled with poems. I just i never knew you were a poet.” JJ explained.

“You were never supposed to see those,” your hand hit your head.

“I’m glad I did, I can’t believe you wrote those things about me.”

“Well you’re my muse my inspiration, you’re the air that I breathe,” you expressed.

“Oh my love, I love you so much. I hope you know that. I’m flattered. You should be a writer.”

“I love you too. And hey maybe I will but I’m shy and scared to put my work out there.”

“You never know.”

“You’re right who knows,” you threw your hands up.

Then you launched yourself at JJ and tackled him to the bed and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You make writing poetry so easy because every time I look in your eyes I see a world of possibilities.”

#💜 anon #jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x female!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj outer banks #jj obx #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank concept #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank drabble #jj x y/n #jj x you #jj x reader #jj maybank obx #jj maybank one shot #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #jj outer banks x reader #obx imagine #outer banks fluff #jj maybank x reader blurb #obx fanfic

[kisses4suna]

can you please give me some really soft suna bf headcannons !!!! i love ur works btw ur my fav suna writerr ahh

SUNA RINTAROU BF HEADCANNONS !

☆ featuring. suna rintarou

☆ a/n. OMFG. anon im so sorry this took me so fkn long to answer. im slowly starting to finish requests people have sent in months ago. i love this idea sm tho!! im so sorry again; i literally deleted tumblr and finally got it backk ill be finishing more requests soon and posting drafts, then during the summer ill post WAY MORE FREQUENTLY. (so be prepared for sm more suna content guys ;))

ps. i might make a p2 for post timeskip suna too so lmk if you’d want that !!

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

PRE-TIMESKIP BF SUNA

- suna mfing rintarou will raise your standards to heaven bro. even if he’s only in highschool

- his face will be so deadpanned and neutral but the minute he sees you he grows that small smile that he hopes nobody sees

- he talks about you like crazy to his sister but doesn’t even realize it

- “did you see her new insta post? shes so pretty bro how tf did i pull her”

- “i miss my gf rn”

- “hey do you think y/n would want something like this?”

- his sister loves you, but is so tired of her brother constantly talking about you

- he would choose you over anybody, and anything. even over his airpods. which says a lot for suna

- will literally do anything to spend time with you. he will drop as much as he could on his schedule for you. he just genuinely wants you to be with him all the time. (he’s so clingy its cute but he hates admitting how attached he is to you hes like a lil koala bear hanging onto his branch)

- without you even knowing he signed you up to be a manager for his volleyball team just so you could spend time with him at his practice

- this mf so obsessed with you he got hit in the face with a volleyball because he was too busy looking at you instead of paying attention to the actual practice

- he will ‘go to the bathroom’ during practice just to sneak off underneath the bleachers to give you a quick kiss and talk to you.

- suna isn’t dumb he’s actually really smart just very lazy, so if you were in advanced classes he would literally get his grade up, request a transfer to your advanced classes, just so he could spend more time with you there

- plus he loves seeing you seem so smart and focused he thinks you look so cute like that ^^

- he unfollowed every girl on his socials besides you and his sister

- he has a whole instagram highlight dedicated for you and its filled with over 20 stories of you and him together or sometimes just pictures of how beautiful you are.

- his insta bio has your initial with a heart, and says “i love my gf” just for fan girls to back off

- his photo album is way worse. he organized his whole camera roll and has a full album of you which takes up half his storage, but who cares, he doesn’t mind having to delete games he downloaded cause he was bored ( especially if its for you )

- in his notes app he has every little detail about you written down, not in a creepy way, just to remember important stuff about you. like what you hate in people, your fav stuff, etc.

- he dedicates every long song to you.

- also hes like very touchy in private, i mean in public he is too, BUT IN PRIVATE. oh my. he is not afraid to cling onto you.. you will literally have to claw him off you if you have to use the bathroom while your cuddling

- he’s only like that because he loves you so much and he’s so attached to you, he just wants to stay with you forever because he cant imagine losing you

- he asks his mom if he can sleep over at your house as much as he could, the days he can’t, you either go to him, or he facetimes you and you both end up falling asleep on the phone.

- everytime he goes to the mall with his friends or something, he will ask them every 3 seconds “do you think y/n would want this ?” he really just wants to spoil you to show you how much he loves and appreciates you

- sometimes he sleeps late at night rewatching his volleyball games and analyzing his plays, so he bought you a sleeing mask and earplugs so you could fall asleep without the sound or light of the tv bothering your slumber

- he loves being in between your thighs, your fingers tangled in his hair while you both watch tv.

- but at night he loves burrying his face in the crook of your neck with one armed wrapped around your waist and the other placed diagonally on your back while his hand covers the back of your head, almost looking like hes protecting it.

- you’ve genuinely helped him become a better version of himself, when he’s with you he’s at his best, which is probably why he loves you so much. because when he’s with you it feels like he’s just at peace, he just falls in love with you even more everyday.

- he hates thinking your love is puppy love and it wouldn’t last, and some nights when he’s not with you, he’ll overthink like crazy, really just wondering why someone as perfect as you hasn’t left him yet, or why are you even with him in the first place ?

- little does he know, he means as much as you mean to him, and you don’t plan on leaving him anytime soon.

#kisses4suna #haikyuu #asks and replies #suna rintarou #suna fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna x y/n #suna x reader #bf!suna #suna headcanons #haikyuu!! #sunarin #sunarin fluff #boyfriend!suna #anime #haikyuu suna #suna rintarou x y/n

[luvhughes43]

love at first sight | jamie drysdale

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌷]

request: jamie x hughes reader plz! :)

summary: you quickly fall for the looks of one of your brothers friends… friend.

note: this is very silly but i hope u guys like it!

word count: 0.5k

early june 

summers at your brother's lake house were all the same. 6 foot tall boys would flock to the house in droves, staying for weeks at a time under the guise of training when really they hung around the house playing pool and lounging on the boat. 

therefore, when your brothers friend trevor zegras said that he invited one of his friends to the house for a few weeks, you paid absolutely no mind to his statement. 

that was until you were bikini-clad on the boat - which was rocking each time a new hockey boy jumped on - that you became aware of said friend. 

you looked up from your book and to yours and everyone's surprise, you gasped. the dark haired man you had never seen before was standing a little ways away from you - shirtless. looking… well hot!

“did you just gasp?” trevor asked, not one to miss anything. 

“i-” you start, but are immediately cut off when trevor's friend catches your eye. bright blue met yours, and wow… jamie smiles at you awkwardly, not catching onto your reaction to his… physique. his awkward smile causes giggles to bubble up your throat and you quickly bring your hands up to your mouth to try and mask your smiles. 

“way to go jimmy! made her speechless!” trevor jokes, slapping jamie on the back who stumbles forward. 

“what’s going on?” jack asks, holding a heavy cooler in his hands. 

“it seems your sister has a little crus-”

“no i don’t!” you shout when you finally get yourself together. you shoot an almost pleading look to trevor - silently begging him to keep his mouth shut. so what if you thought jamie was insanely attractive! with all the men that were invited over to the house there was sure to be one that would catch your attention. 

your eyes shoot to jamie next, who was awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot. “well like… you are hot don’t get me wrong!” you try to amend your words but it all comes out wrong. 

luke groans loudly. 

“...thanks?” jamie says, his face flushing at all the newfound attention. 

trevor whistles annoyingly high pitched. “she’s never reacted that way to anybody. like she literally giggled when she saw you” trevors eyes crinkle as he speaks, one of his tell-tale signs that he’s about to either burst out into laughter or say something wildly inappropriate. 

possibility number two isn't acceptable and so you rush, “i’m sorry! you’re just soo…” you break out into a fit of giggles again, this time unable to stop. 

“there’s no damn way…” jack speaks up again, looking between his sister and jamie. “she’s usually normal,” jack turns to jamie who has a wide smile plastered across his face. 

“It’s okay, i think she’s pretty cute too,” jamie speaks smoothly and you swear your heart stops. luke groans again, and trevor falls into another fit of giggles. 

after the awkward–semi cute meeting, you and jamie spend the rest of the day getting to know each other. aside from your attraction to each other, you guys have a lot in common and by the end of the summer you guys are an exclusive couple. 

end of august

ynhughes

liked by jamie.drysdale, trevorzegras, jackhughes, and 12 892 others

ynhughes it’s been an interesting summer for sure🌊💐

tagged: jamie.drysdale, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, and 3 others

view all comments

trevorzegras call me mr. matchmaker👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

jackhughes nobodys calling you that

trevorzegras HATER!! BOOO👎🍅

jamie.drysdale the best summer❤️

bestie love this for u

lhughes_06 yuck

colecaufield 😎😎

user1 JIMMY????

user2 yn hughes and jamie drysdale…. ohh we won

user3 they’re so cute wtff

user4 yn looking hot as always

user5 THAT PIC OF JAMIE??? I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES!!!

#jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic #jack hughes x reader #trevor zegras x reader #hughes!sister