#been through a couple stages of grief | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bippot · 3 months

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Summary: After being independent all his life, Spencer needs someone to lean on. He finds out how to when a pipe in his apartment burst and he needs to move in within his old pal. She's been waiting for the chance to pamper and treat him the way he deserves.

Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Caretaking, Idiots in Love, Baking, Domestic Fluff, Smut, Hand Jobs, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Eventual Romance, Facial Shaving, Drunkenness, Drunken Confessions, Love Confessions, Headaches & Migraines

Criminal Minds, Dr Spencer Reid Masterlist - here

For two or so weeks, the team was sure something was going on with Spencer. He went through a period of being so frantic and tense then, all of sudden, that behaviour stopped. They had literally no idea what it could be. It seemed as if he had a million things to do and nowhere to go. And every time they asked if he needed help or anything, Spencer would shrug them off.

Things had been a little weird for him ever since he got out of prison and nobody expected him to revert back to normal once he got out. He seemed to acclimatise after a few weeks but maybe that was just for show and he was better at pretending that he still wasn't in prison mode.

If it had been something to do with Diana, he would've been more sad than anything. They'd seen that situation before and this definitely wasn't that.

Maxine left him a while ago after she couldn't really let go of the whole Cat thing. She acted way too chill about it on the day because of the adrenaline and then realised a week or so later that it was too big of a deal for her to wrap her head around. There would have been a sense of grief around Reid if that had been the case.

The catalyst of this change was that a pipe burst in his apartment and, thanks to that pipe, Spencer needed to find a new place to stay for a couple of weeks while it was fixed. Reid knew his coworkers would help but they had other things going on in their lives that he didn't want to intrude upon.

Morgan would be busy with his family, Simmons with his, and JJ with hers. And it would be weird constantly being around JJ and Will after she confessed - seriously, why did she do that? - so it would cause him a lot less emotional stress if he just skipped out on that.

Garcia was going through a period of serial dating and he didn't want to be there to witness that because she was like a sister to him and he'd definitely weird out her dates.

Whatever Rossi was going through with ex-wife number whatever, he didn't want to get in between. It hadn't been long since they got married, but with David's track record, everyone wasn't entirely under the belief that the newlywed bliss would last long.

Alvez and Prentiss were still getting to grips with their new relationships and, as well as he got along with them, Spencer knew he would never be comfortable encroaching on their couple's private space. He didn't want to walk in on something he definitely wouldn't want to see.

This left Y/N. She was an old neighbour that he kept in touch with even though she'd moved into a new apartment a few streets over. She was always friendly, always happy to see him, and had forced him to stay in her spare room all those years ago when he broke his knee so she could take care of him. He didn't speak to her as much as he used to but Spencer was sure that if there was a chance to help, she would.

Yeah, it was an adjustment. Reid had been independent for just about all of his life, but this was something he really wanted to adjust to. The comfort she provided was intoxicating - day by day, his walls were coming down - and he soon found out that coming home to find someone else there was really nice. He hadn't really had that (other than with his mother) since Maeve died, and Cat managed to scare Maxine away before he ever got to that stage with either of them. It was a no-brainer who he wanted to stay with from the get-go, if he was honest.

Y/N owned a bakery and that meant that he got fresh baked goodies whenever she came home from work, or if he made the journey downstairs to her shop and snatched a croissant from the display whenever she wasn't looking. Spencer Reid stealing croissants from his friend? Prison had changed him. She'd also told him he could, but he didn't like constantly asking for them, so he used his sneakery to get around that.

He hadn't told anyone about this new arrangement yet. He knew that if any of his coworkers heard he'd gained a roommate, and an attractive female roommate at that, they'd have a reason to ask him intrusive questions that he didn't want to answer. He didn't want to jinx anything. If he was being really truthful, he probably wouldn't be able to keep the coy smile off his face whenever Y/N was mentioned. He always thought she was pretty and, back in the day, he was far too nervous to ever act on it so they stayed as friends from that point on.

After a particularly long and depressing case - child murder is never a fun time - Spencer was drained and grumpy when he got home. All he wanted was to slump headfirst into the couch and not get up until the next morning. That's how it would go down when he lived alone. Yet, he couldn't do that because Y/N was lying on the living room couch. She was dressed in a sweater - one that was designed to be oversized and she'd also bought two or three sizes up for maximum comfort - her cheek squished on a cushion as she watched some cheesy reality show.

"Hey," she greeted, her voice so sleepy that it came out barely as a whisper. He grunted his greeting.

Could he spread out on the sofa like he wanted to while she was still there? It had been a while since he'd been embraced by anyone. And he knew Y/N would indulge him. Why not? Two birds, one stone. He was a lot more confident these days so, yeah, why fucking not?

To test the waters, he lifted her feet and sat in their place, letting her rest the bottom half of her person against his thighs. He let his palms gently slide up and down her shins as he looked at the TV - he wasn't watching it, his eyes were just in that general direction - and he came to the conclusion that this touching another person thing was nice when the person was Y/N.

"You're back late. How was the flight? I can see you didn't get any sleep," she asked, rubbing at her eye with the back of her hand.

The bags under his eyes were getting heavier. He hadn't slept well for a while now. Prision does that to you, she'd heard. And his job took so much out of him. She had no idea how he did it, how he was still functioning. But he was. He was managing.

"I had so many cups of coffee just to get through it."

As he said that, he let all of his weight fall to the side, and he flopped his head onto her chest. Y/N was shocked into momentary quiet, her mouth opening in surprise, but once she got a hold of herself, she softly asked, "Hey, you okay? Was the case... bad? I mean, more bad than usual?"

"...A kid."

It was only two words, but they told her everything she needed to know. "Oh" was all she could possibly think of saying. It encapsulated everything she could about the subject. It was a surprise. It was sad. And she was sure there wasn't anything she could say to make it better.

He snaked his arm around her stomach in an effort to bring her closer to him, to bring him even more of the comfort he desperately needed right now. Her hands hovered an inch away from his shoulders for just a moment, taking a second to consider whether touching him any further would cause him discomfort, before she made her mind up and began stroking his back with long soothing circular strokes.

Pastry. Jam. Honey. And a hint of mint from her toothpaste that she'd accidentally dropped onto her jumper. She smelt so delicious that he wondered if she would actually taste as good as she smelled. His stomach growled as that thought popped into his head.

"You hungry? I've got some leftover pasta if you want me to warm it up for you."

"Just wanna stay here. You're warm."

If it was warmth he wanted, it was warmth he was going to get. Y/N shimmied the edge of her jumper from beneath Spencer and lifted it over him, entrapping them both in the comfort of her sweatshirt. He shifted upwards to poke his head out of the neck opening and rested his cheek on top of her collarbone.

"This kinda feels like I'm a kangaroo with my little baby joey in my pouch," she teased, drawing squiggles between his shoulder blades.

"Did you know that 95% of kangaroos are left-handed?"

"I didn't know that."

"If a kangaroo gets pregnant again while nursing their previous joey, a phenomenon called embryonic diapause occurs, which is when an embryo stops growing to keep itself in a sort of stasis. It has to wait 235 days before it can be born," Spencer rambled, letting himself sink further into Y/N.

Being bombarded with facts about just about everything was one of Y/N's favourite new past times. She always let out a hum of acknowledgement, even though she sometimes didn't understand half of the stuff he was talking about. She was just happy that he was talking to her at all.

"I like you like this, Spence," Y/N cooed, brushing a curl away before it fell in front of his eyes with a tentative fingertip. "All wrapped up and cute like a little joey. You're like my little baby - a tall baby - but still my little big baby."

A snort came out of his nose and he pressed his lips into a thin line. "I'm not a baby, Y/N."

"I know that, dumbass," she laughed, squeezing him a little tighter. "I'm just saying that I like babying you, I guess."

"I'm a grown man. I don't need to be babied."

Her fingers found the crown of his hair as she scratched his scalp. He let out a weak hum, almost like a quiet purr, as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the sensation.

"I know," she smiled, "But just because you don't need to be taken care of doesn't mean you shouldn't be."

Lifting himself onto his forearms, Spencer peered down at Y/N, and even though he didn't realise it, his big brown eyes were brimming with tears. Y/N was quick to thumb away the wetness that was about to fall down his cheek. She didn't know why she felt the need to confess her thoughts. Maybe it was to make Spencer feel better. Maybe she was just tired of seeing him lose himself to the void.

"I want to look after you," Y/N stated, tilting his chin up with her forefinger so their eyes met, "If you'll let me."

There was a wealth of emotion behind his eyes. Even Y/N, who knew him better than most, didn't feel like she understood all of them. Was it fear? Was it sadness? Was it some kind of guilt? Motormouth and serial rambler Spencer Reid had no idea how to internalise that and what to say to that. He was speechless. He was silent for so long, Y/N thought he might've gone into shock. She expected him to bolt from her like a wild horse freed from a rider's grip. But he didn't.

"Let you?" he eventually choked out. "Yeah, I'll let you. I'll admit there are certain things that I have to do in a very specific way or I won't be able to function properly but - overall - that sounds really nice, Y/N. Thank you."

Y/N felt her lips twitch into a smile. "We can talk about it more tomorrow, yeah?" He nodded so she went back to scratching his head until he settled down into the crook of her neck and let himself get closer and closer to the edge of sleep. He was cocooned in a bubble of physical and emotional warmth that enveloped him with ease.

Spencer really could get used to this.

Tomorrow came and the pair had a very open conversation where Spencer admitted that he would like to be, for lack of a better word, pampered. It was a relatively new concept to him, and the brief insight he got of it was really relaxing. But, he didn't want to feel incompetent. Tasks that take a certain amount of concentration and brain power were fine for Y/N to do for him, yet he didn't want to take her kindness for granted and turn her into his maid. That was a step too far.

He also confessed, with a few word stumbles along the way, that he had felt the need for this to be reciprocal in some way. Yes, Y/N had been the one to bring up the subject and had expressed the desire to take care of him, but that created an imbalance between the two of them - Spencer getting whatever he wanted done for him, and Y/N getting jack shit (and presumably tired from doing everything) - and their friendship wouldn't last like that.

To pay her back, he'd help out in her bakery. He could help out on the financial side of things since was so much faster than her at the admin and accounting work - maths to Spencer Reid is like breathing - and (he's never really told anyone before) he would really like to know how to make doughnuts and croissants and all the sweet treats that he craves so much. Awesome FBI profiler by day. Mediocre maker of jam tarts by night. That was the dream.

Ever since he was a kid, he always felt a little weird whenever he was in someone else's personal space. For some people, it was their home. Or their office. Or the bathroom that they have breakdowns in. Personally, Spencer's was the poetry section at the library he frequented. Y/N's was her patisserie kitchen. And, bizarrely, Spencer didn't mind hanging out in Y/N's patisserie kitchen. Maybe it was because it was filled with sweet treats. Or maybe it was because of what always happened if Spencer managed to get home before Y/N had decided that her work day was over.

As quiet as a mouse, he'd creep down the stairs from their apartment - he means her, her apartment - to the kitchen of her bakery, and he'd stand in the doorway watching. Just watching. Watching as she hummed to herself while she worked. Watching as she moved about with confidence and ease. Watching as she reached for the measuring cups and jugs of ingredients. Watching as she stirred, whisked, mixed, and kneaded whatever needed to be prepared for tomorrow.

If one of her employees was still hanging around, they'd look at him knowingly so he always hoped she was alone to save himself the embarrassment.

Spencer's eyes would drink in every single part of her - the way she moved and the way she held herself, the way her white apron hung loosely around her, the way her messy hair looked tied back with a yellow ribbon - and at first, he wouldn't want to disturb her. But, over time, he'd realise that he was being a bit of a creep.

And then he'd get up the courage to walk right in, do his best to pretend that he hadn't been ogling her from afar for who knows how long, and give her a big grin as he entered her space. She'd jump out of her skin every time his presence became suddenly known - every single one - and lightly hit him on the shoulder.

Tonight was no different. It happened step by step as it always did until she asked, "Do you want me to show you how to make Chelsea buns?"

"Yeah, I would like that."

"Put an apron on then," she urged, pointing to the set of hooks with her employees' aprons on, and he did exactly as she said straight away. "Let's make our dough first."

She walked him through the process, told him about all the ingredient amounts, mixed it for him, and didn't stop talking for the entire time. It was cute. It always is whenever you get someone talking about something they're passionate about, and Y/N seemed to know exactly how to reel him in.

Despite the fact that her instructions were very clear and he was a smart guy, he couldn't seem to get a grasp on how to knead the dough. Y/N had shown him what to do, let him fumble for a few minutes, then said, "Can I move your hand for you until you get the hang of it?"

"Be my guest."

So, she did. Y/N placed her palm on the back of his hand and guided him how to properly knead the dough, and he did it, and he did it properly. Yet, when she went to let him do it by himself, he pulled her hand back on his, mumbling an unconvincing, "I don't think I'm quite there yet."

Y/N didn't quite believe him. She still indulged him, though. They essentially recreated that scene from Ghost but with baking instead of pottery. She didn't laugh or push him away. She just smiled.

"I think that's enough. Now we should wait at least 2 hours so the yeast rises and it doubles in size."

"What? I can't wait that long."

"Well, it's a good thing I made some earlier then."

Pulling the same move that TV cooks use, Y/N retrieved her previously made risen dough so he could flatten it out, sprinkle on the cinnamon and spice and everything nice, and roll it up into a cute - albeit a bit wonky - swirl of tastiness.

The buns cooked for 25 minutes, and during that time, Spencer asked all about Y/N's day and if she had any customers from hell recently. Y/N urged him to tell her about his day at work - but only the parts he felt comfortable about saying, like usual - and he was lucky that he'd mostly been doing paperwork. It was boring to talk about and even more boring to fill out, but it wasn't traumatic, so that was good.

By the time they had to come out of the oven, the pair were so deep in a conversation that they forgot they were baking and were rudely interrupted by the timer Y/N had set. She was quick to hand Spencer a set of oven gloves so he could behold his masterpieces.

"These smell so good," he hummed as he took a deep whiff of the warm buns, the scent filling him with a sense of accomplishment. Just after he placed the hot tray on the side, Spencer attempted to pick up a bun to eat. "HOT! HOT! VERY HOT!"

"You literally just got it out of the oven!"

Through her chuckle, Y/N caught his wrist and lifted to see if accidentally touched the scorching hot baking tray and burnt the tips of his finger. He hadn't, luckily, but she still rubbed the pain away with her thumb.

"That was a silly thing to do. I thought you were supposed to be a genius," she reprimanded playfully

"I am a genius."

"Are you though? Are you really?"

"Yes. I am."

"Hmmm...I don't believe it."

He frowned, then he realised she was just messing with him and reached to give her hips a quick squidge, which was an affectionate gesture that should've felt foreign, but it didn't. Y/N giggled and let herself fall back against his chest, his arms wrapping around her like second nature.

If there was one thing Y/N had learned these past few weeks, it was that Spencer Walter Reid was one touchy guy. And she was probably the only person other than his mother that knew that. He'd been touch starved for all of his life, so it wasn't much of a surprise that he was a bit greedy when it came to physical contact, but it was adorable regardless.

"You still have to glaze the buns. Or do you want me to do it instead."

"Can you do it please?" He mumbled, pushing his face into the fabric of her shoulder.

"It won't take long."

As she moved to quickly make some sugar water and brush it onto the buns, she had a cling on. Wherever Y/N moved, Spencer was attached to her back like a sloth on a branch with his lazy, heavy limbs. It was cute but a little awkward when she needed to lean or walk. He was really putting the cling in clingy.

"I'm almost done, lovely. What do you want for dinner?"

"We're going to order."

"We are, are we?"

"Uh-huh, you deserve a break from kitchens so you're going to let me buy us a bunch of Chinese food that will keep us fed for the next two to three days," he informed her, his voice making it very clear that this was non negotiable.

To appease her even more, he rubbed his cheek against the side of her jaw, nuzzling against her face like a cat. His stubble was rough and scratchy, so she gently pushed his head away.

"You need a shave."

"I don't wanna," he whined. "Don't you think I look more manly like this?"

Y/N chuckled, "Oh yes, very manly." She finished what she was doing and turned in his arms, her fingers coming up to feel the coarseness of his 5 o'clock shadow. "I could shave your face for you if you'd like."

"You would?"

"Well, I mean I could try. If you'd like?"

"Please?"

His eagerness made her giggle, and she felt an overwhelming desire to please him, if only to get rid of his five o'clock shadow.

"Let's go upstairs then, Spence."

"Can you use that fancy moisturiser that you have on me?" He asked on the way up the stairs. "It smells nice and always makes your skin really soft."

Sharing skincare? Surely that was asking for an uncountable number of germs to be passing between them. For some reason, Spencer was completely fine with that.

Soon, Y/N was perched on the bathroom sink with Spencer standing between her legs as she covered his face with shaving cream. With one hand, she held his face ever so gently, and the other was focused on moving the razor so slowly to ensure that she didn't accidentally cut him. It was a very tender moment, one that she could've spent hours doing.

"What are you going to order?"

"Hmm..." He hummed. "Maybe a Chicken Biryani."

"I thought you wanted Chinese tonight."

"I changed my mind. I want Indian food now."

"So indecisive." She turned his chin to the side. "Why don't we order before you change your mind again?"

"Okay, okay."

She finished up the shave as he used her phone to order through an app - his phone didn't have the option for downloading apps. He may be a Luddite but any way around calling the restaurant and placing the order that way, he'd do.

"There we go! You've got the bareface of a prepubescent kid," she teased as she finished up.

"Moisturise me!"

With such a light touch, she did whatever skincare treatments he wanted her to do. His skin had a healthy glow to it that it hadn't had before and there was no stubble, just smooth, sexy, soft skin. The final touch was to slide her chapstick against his lips, his chin resting between her thumb and forefinger.

"So pretty," she whispered, running her hand along his jaw.

Something more could've happened if the doorbell hadn't gone off.

"Go sit down, I'll get our food," she urged, quickly pecking him on the cheek on the way out of the bathroom and towards the front door. Pink took over his whole face and it was impossible to hide his coy little smile.

From that day on, Spencer knew what had once been a crush turned into something deeper. It had a while ago, but this was his confirmation. It was as if there was a large neon sign right in front of her face saying 'Spencer, you're in love with me,' and he didn't need an eidetic memory to remember that forever.

That achy feeling in his heart got worse when Matt's kids accidentally gave Spencer lice. He'd gotten home from a get-together at the Simmons residence, and after entertaining all the young ones with a magic show, his head was surprisingly itchy.

"Do I have a cobweb or something in my hair?" He asked Y/N, scratching at his scalp.

Y/N couldn't keep her face neutral as she got to her knees on the couch and peered at the top of his head. She grimaced and visibly shuddered at the sight of the little bugs.

"You might want to tell your friend that his kids have lice."

"LICE!?"

Spencer freaked out, his eyes bugging out of his head and his body stiffening. "I'm going to shave my head!" He squealed, flinging his hands up in the air. "I'm going to! All my hair!"

"It's okay, lovely. I'll go down to the corner store, pick up some Nix, and be back in a little over 5 minutes," Y/N soothed, trying to get his mind off of his potential baldness.

"Please hurry!"

8 minutes later, Y/N returned from the store and Spencer stared at her expectantly.

"There's nothing to worry about. Come on, bathroom time."

Once Y/N had so lovingly shampooed his hair and followed the instructions step by step, she was brushing his hair and getting rid of any pesky nits that had stuck around. On the inside, his mind was circling - it would go from 'gross, lice' to 'Y/N's taking care of me' to 'Y/N's taking care of me because of gross lice' and would repeat over and over again - but on the outside, he was beaming up at her with puppy dog eyes and a little pout.

"What would I do without you?"

"Shave your head, apparently."

"I'm going to miss you, Y/N," he admitted. "When my apartment is fixed."

Luckily for him, Spencer's landlord had messed up. The burst pipe spewed water everywhere. That water splashed into a plug socket. So, that needed to be replaced and rewired, and Mr Landlord thought his buddy who'd offered to do it at a heavily discounted price had the skill set to do it correctly. They did not. A completely different electrician had to come in and redo everything.

"I'll just force you to stay here forever."

"You don't have to force that on me. I'll stay, willingly."

"Okay then, move in."

She said it so casually, like it was nothing and not the life changing decision that it was. It was an enticing offer. A life with her. Her support. In constant domesticity. And with a steady flow of baked goods. It was too good to refuse.

"You're serious?"

"Uh-huh." He could see it in her eyes that she was. Despite how she was still brushing through his hair, he knew her focus had shifted. "You've already got your room set up, why not?"

"Yeah, I'd like that. I'd like to move in."

All of his stuff was moved in within the week. His landlord had been told and if the guy made a fuss, Spencer had informed him that he was prepared to sue for damages - a hefty portion of his books had been drowned in the flood - and he did work for the FBI so he had a wealth of really good lawyers that he could talk to and hire. He was released from his tenancy agreement after that.

Every day was a sleepover. Well, every day when Spencer wasn't on a case where he'd have to be on the other side of the country for a week or so.

Life with Y/N was easy, blissfully so. They were happy and content, and he was so, so in love. And that was the only problem really: love. He didn't want to be too obvious about it because if she caught on and didn't feel the same, it would get really awkward, and he'd probably move out as soon as he could. Yet, he wanted to express it. He wanted to make her feel loved and special.

Because she was loved and special.

Spring came around and was weirdly warm - that's climate change for you - and Y/N had ditched the oversized hoodies and sweatpants for something less fabricy. T-shirts and shorts, tank tops and skirts, there was a lot more skin on show, and it was, in a word, distracting.

So, Spencer had also decided to start spending a portion of his downtime in his bedroom. Whenever he wanted to look at casefiles or plan his lectures, he needed to not have Y/N anywhere in his field of vision. If she was, he'd get absolutely nothing done.

A gentle knock on his bedroom door interrupted him mid thought, and he called out, "Come in."

Y/N poked just her head in and smiled "Would you like a coffee?"

"Yes, please."

"Good, cause I've already made you one."

Armed with his drink and a cookie on a plate, Y/N made her way into his room and set it down on his desk. He looked up at her in mild curiosity.

"Why is that cookie bright blue?"

"I intended to slightly turn it blue but I added too much food colouring."

Sipping coffee, he leaned back in his chair and began watching her with a slight frown on his face. The frown wasn't at her, specifically. He had a headache. The last case had been incredibly drawn out and took them far too long to solve. One of his best students had decided to drop out because they were busy looking after their sickly mother, and that was a loss of such potential. And he'd generally just gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

"A few customers have complained that they wrongly bought blueberries instead of chocolate muffins, cookies, whatever so, I thought, why don't I turn them blue to make it obvious," Y/N explained, her eyes scanning all over his room.

His room was a mess. Books everywhere. His duvet was crumpled in a heap on the floor right next to a splattering of clothes. There was yesterday's towel draped on the bed. The curtains were still closed. And there was a general stale-ness in the air.

No hesitation whatsoever, Y/N grabbed his laundry bag and began to tidy up.

"I'll do that later, Y/N."

"It's okay. You're busy, lemme do this for you."

"I'm not a child, Y/N! I can clean my own room!"

In all of their time as friends, he'd never raised his voice at her, and they were both shocked that he just did. Y/N froze as she was mid-push of putting the duvet back into place and looked at him in genuine confusion. He sighed and got up from his chair, moving over to wrap himself around her and slump them both down on his bed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. I had a shitty day and my shitty day is not your shitty day, I know that. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad, I promise, just a little surprised." Y/N laughed, "You've never yelled at me before. We can tick that experience off our friendship to-do list. If anything, it was a little weird that we've been friends for so long, and that hasn't happened before."

She rubbed the back of his head and gave him a small smile, joking, "I think it was about time you showed your 'grr, I'm an FBI agent. I carry a gun' side to me."

Rolling his eyes, he let out an amused groan. "I've never said 'grr' in my entire life."

"Well, you just did."

"Yeah, I did, but-"

He stopped before he'd start a meaningless argument over it and laughed instead. Spencer let himself squish Y/N into the mattress a little bit, smiling when all she did was pat his back in a soft consistent rhythm.

"I'm judging by the lack of light that you have a headache?"

"Don't profile me," he jeered lightheartedly.

"Too late."

Before he could decline, she was massaging his temples and trying to will away his headache. It was a losing battle, he knew it would be if he tried to pretend that he was okay, and just let her. Five minutes of her fingers moving on his forehead and the pressure was starting to subside.

"You're too good at this," he groaned.

"I don't know why, maybe I'm just naturally good at giving massages."

"You've got magic hands."

A huff came out of her nose. "Yeah, that's what my ex boyfriend said too," she muttered under her breath, talking more to herself than to him.

Jealousy spiked in him, just a little bit, but enough to make his stomach twist and his heart beat faster. He didn't want to care about that. But he did. The mere mention of an ex-boyfriend was enough to make his chest feel tight.

He cleared his throat and shifted under her hands. Her eyes flicked down to his, and he met them unflinchingly. They looked at each other for a few seconds, and a million thoughts ran through his head. A soft smile curved at the edges of his lips.

"Can I ask you something?" he finally said.

"Yeah, sure."

"It's kind of a random question."

"Go for it."

"Do you think... I mean, um, do you think we'd make a good couple?"

There was a long pause. The room was quiet, aside from the hum of the air conditioning and the muffled sound of traffic outside.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I think we would."

"Would you like to try to -"

"Are you asking me out?"

"I would've if you let me finish my sentence," he replied, his sass barely hiding how genuine he was. She laughed. It was a genuine, happy sound that made his chest feel lighter than air.

"I would like to try."

That was so much easier than he'd ever expected it to be. He let out a relieved sigh and very goofily did a little air punch that caused her to laugh some more.

"Follow up question."

"Hmm?"

Since he knew that she was willing to date him, based on that he assumed that she would have a positive reaction when he hinted, "Would there be kissing in this 'trying to be a good couple' situation?" and made it very clear where his eyeline was. His tongue came out to wet his bottom lip. "Would that be something you would be into?"

To answer, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. It was a chaste, almost awkward press of lips to lips. It wasn't long, but it left him yearning for more.

"You've got work to do, Doctor Reid."

Teasingly, Y/N got out from under him and gestured to the case file that he'd been reading when she arrived. Y/N crouched down to be eye level with him still on the bed and swiped some hair behind his ear as she added, "And I've got more bright blue blueberry cookies to make."

He made a face at her, but he knew she was right.

"Come find me when you're done," she told him, winking.

With that, she was gone. He heard her humming as she descended downstairs to her shop. He looked at the case file some more, his mind distracted for a completely different (but also kinda the same) reason now. Whatever bad mood he had been in was completely turned on its head.

He was still grinning the next morning when he went into work and told them all about the new insight he had on the case. Obviously, his coworkers were a little confused about why Spencer was in such a good mood but he was tight lipped. No matter how much he wanted to gush about Y/N and his new relationship, he kept his mouth shut.

The team would only know this new new development in the good doctor's life a few weeks down the line. They managed to convince him to actually attend an evening Rossi was hosting at his house. Spencer tended to only go to the cooking lessons and special occasions at Rossi's.

Once or twice a month, the members of the BAU would get absolutely pissed on expensive wine together. It was Emily's idea at first, but Rossi ran with it. And with the knowledge that he had someone at home willing to look after him if he got into a state, Spencer thought, why not? He deserved a night to let himself get all dizzy and stupid.

There were parts of his recent memory that he'd like to forget and drinking copious amounts of would remedy that for a while. There is not much chance that it would actually 'kill' those memory cells, but they would fade into the background for one night.

Was it any surprise that Y/N got a late night call to come and pick him up? No, she'd been expecting that. He had always been a lightweight primarily because he rarely ever touched alcohol in any way. Even if they were at a restaurant, he'd purposefully pick another dessert if he found out there was a smidgeon of booze in it. What Y/N wasn't expecting was a female voice to be on the other line when she picked up Spencer's call.

Penelope, who had a few too many as well, was giddy with delight when whoever this Y/N was that her buddy had been talking about all night answered the phone with "Hey baby, you okay?"

"I knew he had a girlfriend!" Penelope yelled to the team, her voice a squeal of excitement. "I knew it! Oh my god, hi! I'm Penelope. I work with your boyfriend."

"Hi, Penelope," Y/N said. "How's it going?"

"Reid is so drunk he can barely stand up," she informed Y/N. "Yoo hoo, Reid, drink that water Simmons gave you!"

That got a groan from him. He was slouched on Rossi's couch with his head in his hands.

"It's not my fault you tried to go drink for drink with Prentiss!"

Emily Prentiss has a glass of wine for breakfast. One at dinner. And one before bed. And that's only on her work days. She knows how to hold herself together while her blood has been replaced by red wine.

"If I text you the address, can you come and get him?"

"Of course I can."

"Good, I can't wait to meet you!" Before she pressed the button to hang up, Y/N heard Penelope playfully tease, "Spencer, your girlfriend that you've been hiding from us is coming to pick your drunk butt up."

With that, the call ended and Y/N was grabbing her car keys. The journey to Rossi's was fairly simple and quick, mostly because there were far fewer cars on the road at this time of night. She pulled up to the grand house - mansion, let's be fair - and the door was opened just as Y/N was about to knock.

"You're pretty!" Penelope greeted, her face pulled into a huge, stupid grin. One of the shoulders of Penelope's dress was hanging down her shoulder so Y/N slid it back into place for her. "Come on in, come in. Ha, look at me, acting as if I own the place!"

Thanks to the drunkenness of his coworkers, Rossi did what he always did at these types of gatherings and retreated to his backyard the moment JJ and Emily got all touchy feely with each other.

Currently, Spencer had moved from the couch and was now lying facedown on the living room floor with Luke and Matt throwing pens and pencils and anything lightweight enough to not hurt but be annoying at his head. It was a funny sight to see.

Y/N knelt on the rug beside her boyfriend and reached out to run her hands through his hair as she cooed, "Is the floor comfy enough for you, lovely?"

The sound of her voice immediately perked him up, and he was able to open his eyes and look at her, albeit with a confused look on his face, to ask, "Honey?"

"Hi, babe. Do you want to go? It's late."

"You came to get me."

"Of course I did, dumdum."

"187 means I-I'm not a dumdum dumdum," he mumbled and tried to sit up, but quickly gave up and rested his head in her lap. He huffed an annoyed, "I'm a drunk dumdum" and pouted. She stroked his hair and listened to the other two guys laughing at them.

Not attempting to hold it back, Y/N joined in on Matt and Luke's laughter. She didn't know these guys, but she assumed if Spencer was actually so drunk that it was a concern, they'd be taking this more seriously. He was fine. He was just a little more stupid and less conscious of where his limbs were than usual.

Eventually, she lifted his head up from her lap and held him upright with her palms on either of his cheeks. He looked at her with a dizzy, but happy, smile and her heart melted a little, but she tried to keep a serious expression on her face or they'd stay on his coworkers floor for the entire night.

"Are you ready to go home?"

"You s-so, so pretty," he slurred, leaning forward since he intended to press his lips to hers.

He missed. He actually managed to catch her jaw with nose and he was off balance enough that he fell forward and they ended up in a sloppy, drunken hug where Y/N was holding up all of Spencer's weight with her arms under his armpits and his face was buried in her hair.

"Wuv you," he whispered in her ear, his pronunciation a bit off, but she knew what he'd intended to say. It was obvious.

"I know," she whispered back. "I wuv you too."

A blush was very evident on Y/N's cheeks as she hauled Spencer into her car, and while his friends had no idea what he'd whispered, they knew it was something to gossip about. Her goodbyes were short and she'd given Penelope her number just in case this happened again and Spencer hadn't charged his phone, which happened so often despite the fact he had an eidetic memory and had to be contactable thanks to his job.

Spencer became more and more sober on the drive home. He'd been alternating between sipping from the water bottle Y/N had brought for him and babbling about a type of fox named Fennec foxes that there's been a rise of people keeping as pets, and while he was definitely a lot more coherent and more aware of his surroundings, he wasn't exactly acting like his normal self.

Then she realised he was avoiding any phrasing that could be misconstrued as romantic or sexual or the barest bit affectionate, even if it was the scientific terms for whatever processes he was explaining. He'd mumbled his way through the way people breed and raise the big eared pups before trailing off when he realised she knew exactly what he was doing.

"Lovely, it's okay. I can forget that you said - "

How could she phrase it? He hadn't exactly said those three words but it was close enough that his drunken slurring had the same implication. After consideration, Y/N came to the conclusion to keep it simple.

"I can try to forget that you said 'that' if you'd like me to."

"I don't want you to forget. I'm just trying to gather up the courage to say it coherently this time."

"Take as long as you need," she responded softly as she parked up.

It didn't take him long at all. He got himself out of the car with no trouble, no stumbling or swaying or dizziness. He had reverted back to a light buzz, a little happy tipsiness. They made it through her front door, and he decided that he didn't want to go to bed just yet, so he flopped on the couch and turned the TV instead.

"Let's watch something," he suggested, patting the space beside him on the couch.

The second Y/N was sitting down, Spencer was tugging her to lie down so he could use her boobs as pillows as he watched the random show he'd selected. Honestly, he'd just clicked on the first one that looked mildly interesting without even really thinking about it.

Halfway through a rather graphic sex scene began to play. During their relationship, they'd always been interrupted before things got spicy. A case. Spencer gets an update about his mum. Y/N's friend stops in to say hello. Lecture notes need to be written and papers graded. Employees phoned in sick. Or they were both just too tired and not in the mood.

There were no interruptions in sight tonight. And the show had made him imagine certain things. Spencer went from enjoying Y/N gentle caresses up and down his spine to feeling like they were going to make him catch a flame in seconds.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as he squirmed and flipped onto his back so she couldn't feel what was wrong pressing against her leg.

"I.." He couldn't even form a sentence. "...Nothing."

"Spencer?"

"Nothing wrong. I'm...I'm fine. No problems, honey."

"I can see the tent in your trousers."

It was obvious. Just in the way his breathing got shallower with every movement of the actors in the scene. The way he bit down on his lip as he watched. The way he tensed up and let out a staggered groan when a particularly explicit sex act was performed. And she was in the exact same position.

"Baby, you want a hand?" Y/N offered, fully intending the double entendre. She tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and placed a kiss upon his cheekbone. "I've got magic hands, remember?"

"Oh," Spencer breathed. "Yes, yeah please."

"Get comfy then, handsome."

After some wiggling and shifting, he let his weight rest against his girlfriend and relax his temple against her jaw. When he was ready, he looked over his shoulder to give her a little nod.

Y/N took her time to get him worked up. She kissed her way down his neck as her hand drifted under his shirt. She explored his ribcage and his sides, his stomach and his thighs, before she finally settled on the bulge in his trousers.

She let her lips rest on his ear and whispered to him, "This feel good?"

"Uh huh," he rasped out.

"You want more?"

"Oh god, yeah."

"Do me a favour and unzip your pants for me, will you?"

Spencer was quick to comply, pulling down his zipper with a solid clunk and pulling his trousers down his thighs, exposing his underwear to her. She teased her fingers along the stitching on his underwear before letting them dip beneath the elastic band and caressing the broad length of his cock.

But before she took him into her palm, Y/N was sweetly ordering, "Spit into my hand please." He did as he was told, spitting into her cupped palm and watching her face intently did the same. She closed her fingers around his cock, coating him in the saliva and making him slick for her.

Slowly, she began to pump her fist up and down his shaft. The friction made his hips buck up into the air, but her other hand came to push them back down. "Let me do all the work, baby," she cooed in his ear, her breath hot against his skin. "You're going to be good for me, aren't you?"

"Gonna be so good," he promised, eyes wide, watching her stroking his cock with her slickened hand. She pumped her hand up and down his shaft a little faster, making him whimper and his body twitch.

Then he started to get restless. His legs kept sliding and jolting so Y/N ended up pinning them down with her thighs and hooking her foot under his calf in the process. She began to pick up the pace along with him, his breath getting ragged and his entire body going into overdrive.

"Look at you, lovely." She smirked, enjoying the way he was squirming and squealing. "So pretty. So wonderful." She gave his cock a few final pumps before pausing to watch his face.

He was flushed, his eyes bright, his chest heaving, and his hair a mess of sweat -soaked curls. "Please keep going," he begged. "I'm almost there."

"I just wanted to take a mental picture of you like this," she whispered. "I'm so glad you let me take care of you."

Once she resumed, he was whining and pleading and begging for release. He was getting loud and messy, and Y/N loved every second of it but "Don't want to wake our neighbours. Can you be quieter for me, baby?"

Sluggishly, Spencer nodded. Y/N could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to get himself under control. It didn't work. He was soon making even more noise.

"Do you mind if I put my hand over your mouth, lovely?" Y/N asked him, settling a soft kiss upon his cheek. Spencer agreed with a loud hum, so she placed her palm over his mouth and held it there, watching his face as it contorted with pleasure. "Good boy, good boy, baby. That's it, feel good for me. Feel so good."

His whole body shook, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Y/N watched his every muscle and vein tense and release as he came. She kept her hand over his mouth until he went still, and his head slumped against hers.

When Y/N finally took her hand away from his mouth, he was completely spent and mumbling a totally fucked out, "I love you. I really love you, Jesus. I love you and your magic hands."

Y/N stroked his hair and kissed the side of his face. "I love you too, handsome. Let's clean you up then go to bed now, yeah?" She guided him to the bathroom for a quick shower while he mumbled incoherently about how much he loved her and how he was going to repay her in the morning.

Because she may have magic hands, but he'd been told by past flings that his mouth was legendary and he was prepared to show his thanks for as long as she'd let him.

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #doctor reid #criminal minds

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c4qwp · 3 months

Text

felix catton x fem!reader

| you understand.

📎 tags : angst, female reader, felix being older than you by a year, fanon of felix be i'm such a bad writer guys, bad orthography, felix being a bit annoying but also a cutie patootie, (y/n) not mentioned, angst asfff

📎 author's note : don't hesitate to comment to help me to progress! english isn't my first language, idk if felix is fanon but i tried my best to write him like i how i see him

you would have seen it coming.

"i think we should break up."

so faint and uncertain, barely more than a whisper.

he looked uncomfortably hunched over, his forearms resting on the table, his breakfast untouched, like he was trying to make himself smaller than you, which was ironic considering you envied his nerves of steel, and of course he was smaller than you shorter It was a very embarrassing moment for a handsome man, but not this kind of moment. Never this weakness.

although the winter sun shines through the windows, the kitchen is still dark and the unpleasant feeling of unusual transparency is almost suffocating. felix isn't the type to get flustered in public, which makes you even more nervous, just when you think you've had all the training you need to imagine scenarios and possible breakup possibilities in every direction.

he didn't dare look at you, shaking his head nervously, choking silently. "say something."

howfunny that he's the best thing you know and can lift you up with one arm effortlessly — his biceps are literally the size of your head, but he says if anyone touches him, he'll cry right now.

It's also a hard pill to swallow, and it's not true that you did this to him, weakening him. you didn't know you had that much power over him yet; and he said he wanted to break, but if he actually said he did, he'd throw up. you shifted in your seat, the wood of the chair suddenly digging into your skin as your body became hyperaware of everything around you, turning your attention away from felix and crossing your hands in your lap.

the answer is on the tip of your tongue, where it has been hidden for months. of course you let him go, and what makes it easier is accepting his warning that half the things about him will be absent and secret, or knowing from the start that your time with him will be limited.

you just don't hesitate; completely overcome the first four stages of grief and begin to accept with ease.

felix catton was essentially ephemeral, either a dreamer or a visible absentee in the present moment of your life. you think of him as an outside cat who was never yours to begin with, appearing randomly and unwittingly when he wanted, a flighty, mysterious companion who was happy and eager to be around.

you don't know if he loves you so much. everyone loved felix. everyone wanted to be around him. the love was there, enough to last a long time, but you thought it was because you were secure and stable.

you were glad you gave him that, if only because you honestly weren't sure what he saw in you.

what was going on was easy enough to experience and because of that you didn't allow yourself to get too attached to him because you knew he didn't love you as much as you loved him. maybe you're kidding yourself, maybe you're sleepy and not as cool as you thought, but you're convinced that's the way it should be, the way it should be.

what's the point of realizing your name isn't at the top of his list?

are you even were you good enough for him? a feeling of insecurity has been itching you for a long time. you may have been beautiful and intelligent, but were you the first in his eyes?

you can't ever be mad at him. you wanted to be with him knowing the way he is, after all. felix is a mess despite trying not to show it, his messy straw-brown hair doesnt shine like it usually does. he hasn't gotten enough sleep in more than a couple days because of his family's issues. time whenever he has to be away for an unprecedented amount of time, or gets buried too long in his pub. wearing a white shirt, he looked very casual and didn't seem to beg to be singled out. feel sorry for him.

"alright."

he snapped his head up, his eyes immediately meeting yours, and they were no longer blank. he looked unsure if he had heard correctly and had a look of disbelief on his face. "wait what?"

your fingers traced the rim of your teacup, mimicking felix's eager movements. "you can start packing today, but if you want to stop today, i don't mind..."

"no, wait-"

"i said yes, felix."

he frowned at the name, his eyes looking away from you for a moment, and he had to blink, and you thought that not having your usual nickname had hurt him. He had to swallow before he could speak.

"and that's it?"

you don't know if this is an attempt to end your relationship or if you want to let him go easily. you do not get it. what can you say.

"what do you want me to say?"

he sighed, looked away, wiped his forehead with his hand and covered his eyes. yes, not that your hopes are in vain. you have to say no.

he's as handsome as ever, but of course he'll want to know how comfortable you are, and he won't appreciate it when he changes his design. "i heard and will agree so we co—"

"aren't you mad at me?"

this is really what he thought first?

"i don't want to get upset."

"why...?"

"well, ..." because you love him, but talking about him will make it harder.

"i'm not sure. but we are both adult and need to talk like one. i think you and i have been very good together all along. I'm not mad at you for anything. understand."

he had such a subtle, sarcastic look on his face that if you were a complete stranger you would have thought it was sarcasm, but you knew better. He insulted himself. you can read it. but you should think about it. you should be mad at him. why the fuck is he upset. things about felix seem too good to be true, his only flaw is that he is a literal playboy. but of course stopped all his relationships with other girls, right?

"don't you want to know the reason? i mean, my god, why are you taking it so passively?"

"what do you mean?"

it's hard for you too.

"how can you not be so affected?"

"It's not like that. If you want to break up, i can't make you stay, or do anything you don't want to do. that's not fair to any of us. you will be with someone you don't want, and i would know im with someone who doesn't want me."

he shook his head, brown hair framing his face, which floated gently in the air. when he strongly disagrees

with something you say, but decides to say no at the last minute, he'll furrow his brows in anger and you'll feel a little disappointed because he's not denying that he doesn't want you. "you're always doing that, you're always doing that..getting mad. you must be mad at me."

"felix. I'm just tired of all this. you want to beak up and i said yes."

he just said, "I'm sorry,"

he hated it, that was all he had to offer you, and it showed on his face. sit in the chair next to him, you both need some good communication privacy right now. "but i have plenty of time to cry, okay?

"it's not like i'm accepting it or being negative or anything... and"

"grieving?"

his eyes search yours for a moment, the realization making him gasp and his eyebrows raise, making him look younger and more innocent.

looking forward to it.

"yeah, i mean.." pressing your lips together.

"look at us. in the long run, this doesn't work. It's not real. i don't know how we got here."

his pupils swallowed all the blue in his eyes, and he had never looked at you with such hostility until the hair on your arms stood up. "did you just think about breaking up?"

"why are you mad at me now? what have I done? you're the one who broke up with me."

"you weren't happy at all. haven't you always been sure?"

"i was and i still am. it's just...you've changed, felix. you're not looking at me like before. i don't know if it's because of me that you've changed but i was here for you every single time. but no mister doesn't want to talk so go to the pub and come back all drunk and doesn't give a shit about me. so yeah i was confused about a time and wasn't sure."

his eyes were finally on you. he called your name, repeated it. "i'm so sorry, love. i'm so-"

"no felix. i'm tired. so please leave me alone for a time and let's talk an other time."

there was a blank of 2 minutes. as you wanted to say another word,

"i understand."

#jacob elordi x reader #nate jacobs x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn #felix catton #felix catton x fem! reader #angst

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steddiehyperfixation · 4 months

Text

don't you forget about me (part six)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)

Steve allows himself a brief mental breakdown in the shower when he gets home. He lets the water mix with his tears as he curls his arms around himself and wishes with everything he is that they were Eddie’s. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give right now just to be held by him again, just to feel Eddie’s arms around him one more time. All it took was a tiny kiss on the back of his hand for Steve’s skin to remember just how much it missed that feeling. Now Steve’s entire body craves Eddie’s touch, and he shakes in its absence like an addict in withdrawal.

Then he puts himself back together, gets dressed and styles his hair and heads off to work.

They’d defeated Vecna before he could split the world into pieces or whatever his diabolical plan had been. So while Steve’s whole world may have been torn apart, while Steve’s whole world lays bruised and bandaged and amnesic in a hospital bed, the rest of the world carries on none the wiser. The rest of the world still rents VHS tapes and has movie nights and date nights and no fucking clue that they were seconds away from being dragged down into a hell dimension a couple weeks ago, so Family Video is still open for them. Fuck that.

“You’ve gotta handle the customers today because if someone starts asking me stupid questions I can’t promise I won’t snap at them,” Steve tells Robin as he drives them to their shift.

“Aw, but it’s so funny when you snap at them,” Robin quips.

“Robin.” He gives her his best I’m so fucking serious look.

Her humor dries up immediately and she nods solemnly. “Alright, yeah. I got it.”

Steve sighs, pulling into the parking lot. “Thank you.”

He busies himself with cataloging and reshelving and rewinding returns while Robin takes over the customer service part of the job. It’s mindless - mind-numbing - the monotony of the tasks exactly what Steve needs to dull out the thoughts in his brain and distract himself from the way the back of his hand still tingles from Eddie’s kiss.

When the afternoon rush dies down after a few hours and the store is all but empty, Robin sidles up next to him where he’s putting away a stack of fantasy films. “Hey.”

Her voice cuts through his focus and nearly startles Steve out of his skin. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry.” She grabs half the stack of tapes and starts helping him shelve. “Just wanted to check in with you, we haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk today. How are things going with Eddie?”

“It’s fine. He’s fine,” Steve grumbles, glaring down at the tape in his hands. It’s got a dragon on the cover. He thinks Eddie would probably like it. “He still doesn’t remember me, but he’s starting to see me as a friend now at least, so.” Steve shoves the movie into its spot on the shelf. “That’s something, right?”

Robin raises her eyebrows at the sharp bitterness in his tone and how forcefully he put the tape away. “Okay. Yeah. So I see we’re in the anger stage of grief now,” she comments.

Steve scoffs. If this is a stage of grief, he thinks he’s been going through them in the wrong order, or maybe all at once - a neverending ebb and flow of denial and anger and depression all swirled together into one fucked up cocktail of grief. “I’m not angry,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just tired- emotionally burnt out, I don’t know. I just miss him and it’s not fair and I’m so fucking sick of feeling like this.”

“Yeah, that’s anger, Steve,” Robin says, infuriatingly blunt. She slides the last tape in her stack into its place and then leans against the shelf. “Did something else happen to set this off, or are you just generally overwhelmed?”

Steve sags against the shelf beside her. “Both. I don’t know. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid. He just- he kissed my hand this morning, that’s it, and it wrecked me.”

“He what?” Robin questions, curiosity widening her eyes.

“He kissed my hand,” Steve repeats. He sighs and adds context, gives her a full recount of the events of that morning.

“Oh my god?!” Robin practically squawks as she backhands Steve’s arm, which is definitely not the comforting words or touch he needs from her right now.

“Ow!” he yelps, rubbing his arm. “What the hell was that for?”

“Dude. He was flirting with you,” she tells him, eyes even wider now like she’s trying to explain to him something obvious.

“What? No.” Steve shakes his head, looking at her like she’s crazy. “He definitely wasn’t.”

“Ughhh,” Robin lets out a long, dramatic groan, dragging her hands down her cheeks and pulling down her eyes. “I cannot do this with you two again. He totally was.” She drops her hands from her face so she can use them to illustrate her point as she starts to lists off, “First of all, he literally called you daddy-”

“As a joke,” Steve interrupts to protest.

“Yeah, a flirtatious one,” Robin retorts. She continues, “Then he said you have a magic touch, and then his heart literally started racing for no reason-”

“Because I was stressing him out!”

“Only after his heart rate went up in the first place, which, as I was saying, was for no reason other than the fact that you were smiling at him and holding his hand-”

“That literally doesn’t-”

“And then, he kissed your hand - pressed his lips to your skin - and told you that you were his good luck charm,” Robin finishes, looking smug like she’s said something novel and not just completely reiterated exactly what Steve had just told her only with more emphasis.

He sighs wearily. “Your point?”

“He likes you, dingus,” she says, whacking his arm again. “Don’t you get it? His mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. A lump rises in his throat, a rush of jumbled emotions chafing against his already frayed edges. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“I think you should tell him what you were to each other,” Robin suggests.

“Right, yeah, okay, sure,” Steve scoffs, somewhere between sarcastic and hysterical. “And while we’re at it, I think you should tell Vickie that you like her. Because telling people things like that is so easy, isn’t it?”

Robin gives him a withering stare. “That is not the same thing at all, and you know it.”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees. “Because I know Eddie, and he would not take that news well. He already gets a little weird whenever I seem to know too much about him - if I tell him I know him biblically too-”

“Ew, don’t tell him like that!”

“Doesn’t matter if I tell him like that; I say we’ve been together for 9 months, he’s going to assume we’ve-”

“God, okay, I get it!”

“See? It would freak him out,” Steve concludes, crossing his arms. “Even if he does…like me again or whatever, he definitely wouldn’t anymore and it would just generally make him uncomfortable. So I can’t tell him. I just have to keep waiting for him to remember on his own, even though it’s fucking killing me,” he says, his voice harsh as he tries to keep it from breaking. “It’s what’s best for Eddie.”

“Steve-” Robin starts, frowning like she’s only just beginning to realize she may have pushed him too far, but whatever it is she was going to say is cut off by the ringing of the bell that announces the front door being open.

“Customers.” Steve points his chin towards the couple who just walked in, a bitter jealousy boiling in his stomach as he watches them walk hand in hand towards the romance aisle. It’s not fucking fair. He shoves himself away from the shelves and mutters, “I’m taking my break.”

He stalks to the breakroom, closes the door, and sinks to the floor with his back against it. The tears in his eyes feel like they’re made of acid, like they would carve tracks into his skin if they were to spill down his cheeks. He wraps his arms around himself again. The thoughts in his head are made of acid too, bitter and burning and cursing everyone who gets to enjoy their lover's touch while he suffers without his.

Steve’s brain feels corroded, corrupted. “He likes you,” Robin’s words echo there too, “his mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.” Would Eddie touch him now if he asked? Would he trace his fingers across Steve’s skin, kiss more than just the back of his hand? Steve digs his own fingers into his sides. He feels gross, he feels rotten. It wouldn’t be right to ask that of Eddie without him knowing the truth, to take advantage of him like that. It wouldn’t be the same, anyways. The superficial touch of a boy with the beginnings of a crush is not the tender lover’s caress that Steve craves.

That is if Robin is even right about Eddie redeveloping feelings. Which she probably isn’t.

Steve’s just being stupid and selfish again. He wants to remove his brain from his skull so he can stop thinking, tear his heart from his chest so he can stop feeling; both so burned and decayed he thinks if he held them in his hands they would dissolve and crumble to dust and ash and sludge between his fingers.

Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve forces himself to be fine. He peels himself off the breakroom floor and returns to work, continues the tedious tasks that he hopes will numb him out again.

Robin catches his eye from across the room where she’s sorting a customer’s cash at the register. I’m sorry, her expression says, I didn’t mean to make you upset.

Steve gives a tiny shake of his head and a small smile. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, his own expression reassures her. You meant well. I’m not mad at you.

They don’t talk about Eddie again that day. The next time there’s a lull in customers and they’re able to chat again, Steve tells Robin he honestly just needs a distraction right now, and he lets her ramble on about Vickie and band and school and her impending graduation and the movie she watched last night and whatever other random thoughts are bouncing around that hyperactive head of hers. Her voice fills in the cracks in Steve’s brain, keeps it from falling apart completely. She’s always been good at that, and he’s grateful for it.

Then he drops Robin off after work and he drives away alone in silence because all the songs on the radio are love songs, and he drives back to the hospital - back to the source of his grief again and again like some sort of fucking masochist - because Eddie needs him. Because Steve loves him.

Eddie cannot help the way his face all but beams the second Steve walks back into his room that evening. “There you are, Stevie! How was work?”

Steve returns the smile, genuine, but there’s a tiredness to it. “It was alright. Bit boring, really, uneventful. How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” Eddie says, adding with a jaunty grin, “All the better now that you’re back.”

It comes out a bit more flirtatious than he intended, but thankfully Steve just laughs it off. “Alright, smoothtalker,” he scoffs through a chuckle as he takes his usual seat by the bed. “It’s nice to see you again too.”

“Oh, the actual doctor came in to talk to me today. Good news, don’t worry,” Eddie tells him, the last bit tacked on quickly before that concerned crease can appear between Steve’s brows. “She says I’m healing up nicely, and I might be able to be discharged soon. A few more days’ observation and then they're gonna see how well I can actually move since, you know, the bats chewed through half the muscles in one of my legs. But, yeah, I could be out of here by the end of next week.”

“That’s great, Eddie!” Steve brightens.

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles. “I can’t wait to be somewhere familiar, feel normal again. Or, well,” he amends, smile falling a little as he realizes, “as normal as I can feel given that I’ll probably be walking with a limp for the rest of my life and be covered in nasty scars all over.”

A strange expression crosses Steve’s face then, something happy and sad and sympathetic all at once, and his voice is soft as he says, “We’ll match.”

Eddie blinks at him. “What?”

“The scars,” Steve clarifies. “The bats got me too, you know. I was lucky, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for you, but, uh- yeah, we’ll match. See?” He stands and pulls his shirt up a bit.

Eddie’s heart rate immediately kicks up again, blood growing warm, as his eyes snap to Steve’s stomach, to skin and muscle and body hair and- oh. Two giant, jagged red scabs cover Steve’s sides, the edges fading into skin bumpy and pink and white with the beginnings of scarring. The bite on Eddie’s own side twinges in sympathy. “That’s-” He swallows back the word hot, and breathes out instead, “Holy shit.” Without really thinking, he finds himself reaching out to skim his fingers over the ridges of Steve’s scars.

Steve gasps - full body shudders - at the touch, and Eddie instantly pulls his hand back, afraid he’s hurt him. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“No, it’s fine,” Steve manages, though it sounds a bit shaky. “You didn’t hurt me, I just- I wasn’t expecting it.”

Eddie tentatively starts to reach back out; Steve nods. He slowly traces the outline of the wound again, every uneven edge, feeling the evidence of hurt and the evidence of healing and the ripple of each breath Steve takes - breaths that echo in the quiet that falls between them. Eddie doesn’t realize just how intimate this silence has become as he runs his hands across Steve’s skin, until he glances up to find Steve just…watching him. It’s impossible to tell exactly what emotion is behind his eyes, but it’s intense and it’s devastating, and Eddie suddenly feels like he can’t breathe.

“Uh-” A nervous laugh stutters out of him. He rescinds his touch. “Twin scars, huh?” he remarks, cracking a crooked smile and attempting to change this strange, suffocating energy with a joke. “Hell of a matching tattoo. Next time let’s just exchange friendship bracelets like normal people do, yeah?”

Steve huffs, a short burst of laughter that escapes from his chest like it’s been punched out of him. “Since when have you ever done anything like a normal person?” he teases in return as he pulls his shirt back down.

Just like that, blown away by Steve’s playful smile, the weird tension lifts. Eddie grins back. “Alright, fair point.” He adds, “Those are gonna be some pretty metal scars, Stevie.”

“Not as metal as yours,” Steve says warmly, settling back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. “You’re the one that literally survived death, Ed. It doesn’t get any more metal than that.”

“Now who’s the smoothtalker?” Eddie smirks, and he hopes he isn’t blushing. Steve Harrington calling him metal with so much pride and affection in his voice is doing numbers on his heart. Curse this stupid fucking crush.

Steve eyes divert briefly to the heart monitor, which has not once calmed down since the second he’d lifted up his shirt, and Eddie is so sure that he knows then, that he’s finally made the connection between what’s got Eddie’s heart racing, but he doesn’t say anything, just laughs it off again, smiling like everything’s completely normal as he looks back at Eddie and rolls his eyes and mutters in return, “Shut up.”

“Make me,” Eddie mumbles, not quick enough to bite back the words before they fall from his mouth, only managing to lower his voice enough that maybe Steve didn’t hear him.

“What?”

“TV?” Eddie grabs the remote, pretends like that’s what he’d said in the first place. Real smooth.

“Oh, sure.” Steve shrugs. If he noticed Eddie’s slip, he gives no indication of it.

Eddie turns on the TV and they spend the next hour or so laughing and making fun of the bad acting on the show that’s playing. Easy, normal, platonic. Eddie’s heart rate stabilizes, remaining even so long as he doesn’t look too long at Steve’s smile.

When sleep starts lapping at Eddie’s consciousness, he doesn’t fear it anymore. Silently, he holds out his hand, and Steve takes it, wrapping him in the warmth and protection that allows Eddie to let himself drift off undaunted.

And in his dreams his hands skate across Steve’s skin again.

(part seven)

taglist (CLOSED): @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (taglist continued in replies; please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. if you didn't make the taglist but still wanna follow along, you can follow the tag #dyfamsteddiefic to keep up with new updates!)

#giving steve mental breakdowns is my favorite hobby actually can you tell #one or two more parts i think i can't decide #should i resolve it in the next part or drag it out an extra chapter and write out some more of eddie's dream memories???#steddie #steddie angst #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic

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cdbabymp3 · 2 months

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can u write something about hamzah being nervy for his first time w u cus he’s a virgin 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 i’d actually go insane

𐙚the first time ― hamzahthefantastic

notes/warnings: nsfw !! reader is slightly more experienced than hamzah this might be the first and last time i write a full length fic for this acc i went through every stage of grief making this

it started super innocent. a couple kisses exchanged in the kitchen while making dinner together. you guys had decided to have a little fancy date night at home, since it was pouring rain outside. hamzah lit candles and everything. while eating dinner, you can feel his energy radiate off of him, like he's longing for something but won't quite say what. usually he's pretty straightforward with his feelings, hating to beat around the bush, but right now... this was not the case.

"is everything alright?" you ask softly, as he gets up to clear your empty plates

he places the plates in the sink, looking up at you, "uh, yeah? why? does it seem like something's up?' he speaks a mile a minute, now clumsily rinsing the dirty dishes

"well, no. i don't know, you just seem like there's something on your mind." you further, he keeps his gaze down at the dishes, scrubbing and rinsing far more than what's needed. is he stalling?

"nah, i'm fine, don't worry." he lies poorly, grabbing a rag and starting to dry the plates. his eyes are still failing to meet yours, a tell-tale sign he's not being honest.

dating for 4 months, intimacy and sex was a topic hamzah always found a way to tip toe around. yes, you guys have talked about sex before, but it was never in a serious way. he would always make a joke to the only way you even found out about his lack of experience was during a drunken night, trying to get him into bed to sleep.

"wait, hold up-i've never done this before, i've never done this before, i've never done this before... y/n wait...." he slurred out, delirious laughter quickly turning into panicked muttering

the memory burns in the back of your mind, even more so because he hasn't brought up that night since, nor do you think he even remembers.

he's still drying an already-dry-plate with so much force, that the plate dwindles nearly in and out of his grip. he bites the inside of his cheek, eyes narrow. something's festering, it's so plain to see.

"are you sure? because you can tell me if it's-"

before you could get another word out, the plate he was holding slips out of his hand, hitting the kitchen floor and breaking into a million pieces.

"fuck." he sighs, throwing the rag into the sink angrily and puts a hand over his eyes

you step over to him slowly, trying to avoid the ceramic shards on the floor.

"hamzah-"

"no, don't come over here. let me clean it up first." he removes the hand from his eyes, revealing you standing a foot away with a hand extended towards him to reach for. he thinks on it for a moment, but takes it, walking out of the kitchen and into your embrace.

"what's going on, hm?" you rub his back, trying to calm him down

"it's so fucking embarrassing, y/n, trust me. i can't even say it out loud." he mumbles, releasing himself from the hug and taking a seat on the couch

you follow him, sitting in the adjacent chair. waiting patiently for him to speak, you give him a reassuring smile. it's silent for so long and at this point, you start to catch onto what has him so distraught; the only milestone in your relationship that's been left unconquered. you can practically see the cogs in his brain turning and processing how he wants to go about telling you this information. to save him from his spiraling, you decide to intervene. "you know i don't care, right?" vague enough not to scare him from the topic, but hopefully enough to allude to what he's trying to say.

"care about what?" he frowns, head titled

"remember that night when you got really drunk and i had to drive us home? and you were super delirious, so i had to help you get ready for bed?" he simply nods, still not seeing where you're going with this. "well-um, when i was helping you change out of your clothes and get into bed, you kept repeating 'i've never done this before' over and over again. i didn't want to assume you meant it that way, but..."

he now puts not one, but both hands over his eyes, sheer humiliation hits him like a 50-foot wave. "oh my fucking god, that's so embarrassing."

"what- no, no, no. it's okay, trust me. it's okay, hamzah, seriously."

he hunches over so his elbows rest on his knees, face in his palms, as he's trying to process this. "i-wow... you knew this whole time too, that's crazy." still reeling, he laughs nervously.

"hamzah, it literally changes nothing for me. i just want you to feel comfortable enough to talk to me about it." you get up and sit next to him, putting a hand on his thigh for comfort.

"i know, i know. i was gonna say something tonight," he lifts his face from his hands, "that's why i was so wound up, i think...nerves, you know?"

"yeah, i understand."

"i feel really guilty sometimes... like, that we haven't done anything. i don't want you to think that it's because i don't want to- i do, i really do. i don't know why, but i get so nervous anytime we're in the moment and it could happen. i always chicken out. i just want it to be good for you..."

your heart melts at his confession. "hey, no, don't feel guilty. i'm willing to wait. whenever you're ready, i'm ready." your hand leaves his thigh and rubs his back the way he likes. he snickers and your hand pauses. "what?"

"that's what i was gonna talk to you about; whether or not you wanted to, um...tonight?"

"oh! i-"

"i mean, if you don't want to, we don't have to. i thought that it seemed like a good night since it's just us and the rain outside is honestly kinda romantic, i don't know, maybe i-"

you put a hand over his mouth and you can feel him smile against your palm. "you're overthinking this."

"i-" his voice is muffled against your hand, so he lightly takes your wrist and removes it. "i'm overthinking, but also have no idea what the fuck to do. i mean-i know 'what to do' in a biological sense, but like-" he catches himself in the middle of another ramble and nods knowingly, shaping his lips into a thin line.

"we can take it slow, yeah? just breathe..." you whisper, the hand that was once placed on his back slithering to the back of his head, causing him to turn his face to you.

"okay." he matches your tender volume, allowing his body to relax with a long exhale

you wait for all the air to peacefully leave his lungs before grabbing his hand and getting up. it takes him a second, but he obliges as you lead him into his bedroom. you give him a quick kiss, crawling onto the bed as he follows suit.

"c'mere" you coo

he can't hide the excitement on his face, getting on the bed with urgency and positioning his frame above yours. you wrap your hands around the back of his head and engulf him in a heated kiss. one arm stabilizes him above you, while the other holds your hip. this he's done with you before, this was his comfort zone. what comes next is new and surprises you. his hand glides from your hip, up your torso to your right boob, giving it a squeeze over your shirt. a pleased sigh gets caught in your throat and you feel his hand hesitate, so you put a hand on top of his to continue. it's funny because you can tell he does actually know what to do, but it's obvious that doing with an actual person is throwing him off a little. after a moment or two, he moves on to your other boob, giving it equal attention. you start to play with the hem of his shirt, which he's quick to notice and pulls off. his lips connect with your neck this time and the contact makes your stomach feel incredibly warm. his position in between your legs gives you easy access to his toned chest and torso, so you slide your hands from his collarbones down to right before the waistline of his pants as he continues to his ministrations on your neck. this earns a low hum from him, the vibration of the sound against your neck makes you giggle. he giggles too, happy that some of his nervous tension is being relieved. some minutes pass and you feel what will be a generously sized hickey tomorrow morning planted just below your jaw as hamzah's mouth leaves the skin to breathe.

"um... i should probably get you out of these." his fingertips ghost under the band of your midi skirt and underwear, to which you nod more desperate than you mean to. he cracks his famous grin before sliding the skirt down your legs. once it reaches your ankles you kick it off. he looks down at your black, lacy underwear and blinks slowly. in this brief pause, you take the liberty to peel off your top. to hamzah's delight, your bra matches your underwear with a pink bow in the center.

"you're so cute" he beams, kissing your lips, mouth then heading down between your cleavage to your navel. he leaves sloppy, open-mouthed kisses until he reaches the thin line of your underwear, giving your clothed-clit a sweet kiss.

"mmh" your hips jerk up involuntarily

"yeah? that good, baby?" he asks genuinely, his innocent voice starkly contrasting how his fingers loop around your underwear and drag them down your thighs. feeling your underwear completely off, you sit up to rid yourself of your bra but he clicks his tongue. "i got it."

"oh, you got it?" you tease and he rolls his eyes

"shh" he pulls one of the straps down your shoulder, enough to kiss where it previously was before reaching behind and undoing the clasps swiftly. the garment slips down your arms and he catches it, tossing it alongside the rest of your discarded clothes. "jesus..." his eyes widen, your bare chest on full display for him. he leans down, about to take a nipple to into his mouth when you place a hand on his cheek to stop him. "wh-do you not want me to do that?"

"no, baby, it's not that. it's just-" you take his hand and guide it down to your core, allowing his fingertips to brush past your wetness.

he raises his eyebrows at the feeling, getting your not-so-subtle hint. "oh...i-okay, you're, like, ready, huh?" his voice quivers, a rhetorical question but it's so endearing. "here-uh, lemme get a condom." he leans and extends an arm across you to his bedside table. nervously fumbling with the drawer, he grabs the packet and situates himself back between your legs. in the same position as before, one arm holding himself up and the other putting the packet between his teeth to open, you put a hand on his arm and laugh.

"hamzah, your pants."

"oh, shit, i forgot. hold up," he says, the condom packet still between his teeth as unbuttons his pants and slides them off along his underwear in no time. you can tell by the look on his face, he's getting shy, so you let him do things at the pace he wants. you swear you blink and he's already rolled the condom onto himself, positioning his body inches from where you need him. he looks conflicted, so you cup his face to let him know you're here. "i was already a nervous wreck before, but it just hit me now even more..." he confesses just above a whisper, his cheek feels hot with self-consciousness as you caress it

"do you want some help?" you offer and his eyes soften, visibly grateful that he didn't have to verbally ask you.

"sorry." he apologizes

"no it's okay, baby, here-" you put a hand on top of the one that he holds himself with and move him closer and closer to your entrance. his tip makes contact and you bite your lip, moving him along your arousal to lessen the pain you assume will come based on how sizable he feels. "i'm gonna go slow, okay? it's been a while since i last did this..." you admit, carefully pulling his hand so that his tip only makes it past your folds. his chest starts to rise and fall, his glued to yours and not daring to leave.

"y/n..." he moans, feeling himself finally enter you

the stretch alone has you grabbing for his bicep, mouth open in shock. "fuck" you gasp, trying to adjust to his size.

his eyes scan yours, seeing your discomfort bubbling. "should i stop? am i hurting you, baby?" he starts to panic

"no, i'm okay, just keep going. you can m-move now, if you want." you pant out eagerly and he does as told, pulling back, but not out and thrusting back in nice and slow. he starts to find a rhythm and repeats this at the perfect cadence.

"there you go, you got it-ah" you praise him, which only works him up more, rutting into you now with more haste than ever; he's finally getting comfortable. your nails drag down his broad back, making him whine into your neck, hitting a spot inside you no one's hit before. he knows way more than he thinks. you can feel him start to chase his release, twitching as his sounds start to rise in pitch.

"baby, i think i'm gonna-fuck!" his hips snap and stagger with one final thrust, the coil in his stomach snapping vigorously. his high leaves him trembling above you, barely able to hold up his weight.

"virgin no more" you whisper dramatically, brushing his black curls out of his eyes, a sheer layer of sweat making them stick to his skin a bit.

"b-but you didn't cum... i came in like fucking 3 minutes and you didn't-"

you interrupt him with a kiss, different than the ones you were sharing moments ago. this one held something more than lust or desire.

"i don't care, i'm proud of you." you rest a thumb on his full bottom lip, toying with it. "plus, it was your first time, not your last. you can make it up to me."

so fucking anxious to post this 🥸 yes there will be a pt.2! idk when quite yet bc i'm gonna need a couple days to recover from this

send in hc requests !!! i enjoy writing those a lot and can get them done quicker <333

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @forevergirlposts , @junebugin-july , @itgirlvirgo (lmk if u wanna be added !!!)

#jules speaks !! 🐻ིྀ #hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzahthefantastic imagines #hamzahthefantastic x you #hamzahthefantastic headcannons #slushy noobz #cdbabymp3

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rubra-wav · 1 month

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Hiya! I absolutely loved your posts about the HH main cast dealing with a sick reader and them being sick. You did a phenomenal job with them!

As for a request, what about Vox, hell’s resident bipedal tv, hc’s of him realizing he’s legitimately falling for reader?

Vox realises he has feelings for you

A/N : Thank you so much seriously!! 💛

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, suggestive comment at one point, angst-ish/ Vox coping

- It'll be a good long time before he realises he's fallen for you, and when he finally does, he's fully in it. There's no turning back and there's no backpedalling. He's absolutely whipped.

- It hits him one day like a train that he's actually in love with you all at once.

- He hung out with you the afternoon, and that night he's laying on his back with his phone gripped in his hand against his chest.

- It's been exactly 3 and a half hours since you were out together on a movie date at the VIP premiere. (as in in the ridiculously lavish movie room he had within Vee tower)

- He had been counting.

- You hadn't texted him back yet, and he was tapping his claw impatiently waiting for you to message him back with the world's biggest pout on his face.

- He'd already sent 4 texts, and none of them had been answered yet. He had to stop himself from sending more because he didn't want to seem too desperate. (Even though he was)

- He told himself he'd be mad that you had made him wait whenever you got back to him. He'd blow up over it.

- However, the second his phone buzzes and he sees the notification from you saying you had fun and were sorry you hadn't gotten back immediately it's like his dopamine receptors have been kicked into absolute overdrive.

- He's giddy. Warmth is flooding his chest, and he starts breathing heavier as the world's dorkiest smile spreads across his face.

- It isn't then that he realises exactly, but it's when you leave to go to sleep after texting him for a couple of hours with a flirtatious comment that has his head spinning and sparking.

- You were talking about how you'd washed your sheets that day and were making your bed. He acted like he was bored, and your next words absolutely took him out.

- "Fine. Next time, come over, and I'll spread you out on my bed then."

- When he calms down, it's messed up again as he's questioning himself.

- Why did I glitch out to them saying something that resembles a shitty pick-up line? Why did I count every minute that passed the second you went home? Why do I feel like I'm on drugs the second you pay me the slightest bit of attention.

- OH FUCK -

- He goes through all stages of grief as he realises he's in love with you in a single second and ends up causing a blackout in his bedroom in the process.

- When he roboots, he holds his head in his hands and chugs delulu juice instantly feels absolutely terrified.

- It's humiliating for him to have such delicate feelings, let alone for someone who surely doesn't feel the same way. His experiences with real, genuine romantic love for other people have hardly ended well.

- He likely tries to distance himself from you because he's scared of the fact he is so attached to you.

- It's been ages and ages of being attached to you but he's only fully realised - or at least fully acknowledged the extent of that attachment.

- His distance from you is shortly lived however as he craves you and your presence so badly he's disgusted at himself.

- He would not be the one to confess 9 times out of 10.

- Even if it's glaringly obvious you are also into him, he copes so fucking hard he's actually delusional with the excuses he makes about it.

- He basically friendzones HIMSELF.

- You could kiss him on the cheek or hold his hands in yours or cup his face lovingly and he would be there glitching while thinking about how you must just be like this with everyone else-

- He's charismatic, charming, and can often read everyone around him like an open book - analyse their behaviours, true intentions, expressions, thoughts under it all, etc.

- But he's so terribly stupid with love.

- You need to confess to him first most likely and he'll probably still think you're bullshitting him.

- Literally finds every reason of why you aren't in love with him and tries to twist everything that way.

- Even when he's in love, he wants it to be reciprocated obviously. The thought of it not being requited as he expects is embarrassing at best.

- But, he's genuinely probably even more terrified of what that means if you do love him back.

- It's easier if you don't love him back for him because he's scared of the way you might further bring out whatever imperfections and vulnerability he's shown you already after actually being in a relationship with you.

- He craves being in a relationship with you and the security you could bring him to expose those parts of himself he desperately conceals with masks resting on masks, but also its deeply unnerving to him simultaneously.

Infuriating watching the process of this man actually realising he's in love for real, honestly 😭

#vox x reader fanfic #vox #hazbin hotel Vox #hazbin hotel #vox headcanons #vox x reader

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foreverinadais · 2 years

Text

drunk: m.k

summary: after an argument with your boyfriend’s, you all engage in a silent treatment. well, until you get drunk and need jake to pick you up, as well as the others to look after you in your drunken state.

warnings: alcohol use, reader is drunk and in the mood to be a nuisance, sick/vomit, swearing, light angst, fluff!! moon boys taking care of reader, it really goes through the 5 stages of grief in this one

word count: 3.2k :)

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for 400 followers!!!! it’s insane how much support you’ve all shown and i cannot express how much i appreciate it :)

It was around 2 o’clock in the morning when the familiar buzz of a phone echoed around the walls of the flat. It was Jake who awoke to it, cursing under his breath as his eyes refused to open from their interrupted sleep. The buzzing stopped, momentarily offering an ounce of peace which Jake gladly took- until it resumed, a growing insistence in it’s tone which eventually prompted Jake to open his eyes.

The first thing he did was check his watch. Seeing how late, or early, it was suddenly inserted a sense of urgency in him, as he clambered to turn on the lamp beside the bed and roll his body out. The buzzing was still prevalent as Jake finally reached the phone he shared with his alters.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when your face shone on the screen.

You hadn’t called in a couple of days now, neither had he, likely due to a rather explosive, extremely stupid, argument you had gotten in with all of them. It was rather rare to be in an argument with all 3 of your boyfriend’s. But after another squabble about schedules and missions, it was bound to blow up, leading to you leaving and giving the silent treatment. Not that any of them tried to stop you, just as in need of the space and reflection time.

All of you were renowned for your pettiness. Which is why it took Jake a moment to answer the phone. But then, worry settled in as he remembered the time, realised you wouldn’t be calling unless it was absolutely necessary. He didn’t make a move to talk first, figuring you would do that. He was right.

He could hear the muffled booming of music behind you, tacky club sounds that were only tolerable when pissed. Surrounding that, the obnoxious chatter of people Jake could only assume were drunk, all of it moulding into a loud hum in his ears. He cringed in his barely awake state, holding the phone away from his ear briefly before deciding to make his presence known.

“Yeah?”

“Jakeee?” Oh shit. He could automatically tell by your disorientated tone that you were drunk. “ ‘s that you? Jakey?” He felt annoyance rise in him at your nonchalance to the situation, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Yep. Why you calling?” He was being short with you. In your delirious state, you couldn’t tell.

“I need- hiccup – to be p-picked up because ‘m hungry and tireddd and my friend, she left with this girl and I- hello, doggo, your so cute!- need you.” Jake cussed, muttering a few profanities in Spanish before finding words to reply.

“Mierda, fine. Where are you?”

“Ummm I don’t knowww, wait, excuse me? I love your outfit, wait, sorry, where am I? Can you please message it to my boyfriend- wait can I call him that? We’re- hiccup- angry at each other.” Your voice was slurred, desperate, and Jake suddenly felt a sense of worry at your vulnerability.

“Go wait inside, hmm?” Jake said through the phone, putting on some shoes and grabbing his cap and jacket. It was then his phone pinged, and he realised the strangers you had accounted yourself with had sent your location. You were still mumbling to them about the argument, about your flat, about how painful your feet were due to the dancing and stupid shoes you’d decided to wear.

Jake left you on the phone as he got in his cab, not wasting anytime as he started the engine and all but sped to where you were. It didn’t take him long to arrive, the roads empty but streets alive with people looking for a good time on a Saturday night. He spotted you instantly. You were sat on the sidewalk, a woman and her partner next to you. Your head was in your hands as your, now bare, feet gently kicked the gravel. He swore again, partly at the state you were clearly in, but also at the remnants of annoyance he felt from the not forgotten vendetta.

Jake pulled over quickly, cap secured on his head as he exited his cab and made his way over to you. The people who were sat with you clocked him, one of them meeting the distance, explaining how they stayed with you until he got there, and that you were in a ‘pretty bad state.’ Jake thanked them, making the short way over to where you were sat, still not aware of his presence.

“Y/N,” he said simply, now stood in front of you, but you didn’t notice, too lost in the song you were humming under your breath. He sighed, kneeling in front of you, hand reaching out to touch your forearm. “Hey, c’mon, let’s go.” Your head snapped up; eyes droopy as if you had been sleeping.

“Jakeee you’re here!” You exclaimed, practically falling into his kneeling frame, catching him off guard. “Thought you wouldn’t come because you h-hate me now.” His face twisted in confusion.

“What? Your drunk, let’s get you home, c’mon. Look, I’ll help you up, on three.” You sniffled; arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as he helped manoeuvre you both up. You didn’t let go when you were standing, deciding you couldn’t stand. He was reluctant to wrap an arm around your waist, still slightly angry, but more worried it would offend you. But it was clear it was what you needed as you tumbled, shakily attempting to walk to his car- or, rather, a complete stranger’s car. “Fuck, taking too long, just, walk faster.” You did as he said, maybe too literally, as your arms began to get suffocating, as he gripped your waist, helping you both walk to his cab.

You giggled as his hands unknowingly tickled your side when he helped you get into the passengers seat. “Smells funny in here.” You chuckled, taking an exaggerated sniff of the air. Jake knew it was his cigars he snuck, but chose to ignore you, going to shut the door. “WAIT WHERE ARE YOU- DON’T LEAVE ME!!” your sudden rise in volume made him jump, and he came back as soon as he left.

“I’m getting in the car, ay.” Before turning back and saying, “Seatbelt.”

“Nonono I can’t do it, won’t get in the… thingy.” Jake had the sudden urge to kick something, forgetting how frustrating drunk you can be, especially when sober. He exhaled deeply through his nose before muttering a ‘fine.’ You gasped as he leant over you, face awfully close to you own, so much so he could smell the alcohol on your breath. You couldn’t help but chuckle again as his gloved hand came down by your side, fumbling for the seatbelt and eventually getting it in the buckle.

It was then you thought of the most hilarious idea ever. As he went to get back up, you wrapped your arms round his shoulder and pulled him, so he nearly collapsed back down onto your lap. You let out a belly laugh, tears squeezing your eyes as he shouted, “QUE MIERDA!” He got out, shutting the door slightly louder than usual as he strode to his seat in the front. “Always playing, I swear, estúpido when drinking,”

The car was filled with your chuckles, as if Jake had told a joke, but he was deadly silent. What could he say? You were intoxicated. He couldn’t be mad at you right now, not when you wouldn’t remember it. But he didn’t want to be nice to you, still angry, still not ready to put it behind him completely. He was looking forward to get back to the flat where it would become his alters problem.

And truthfully, the smell of your perfume was beginning to intoxicate his senses.

When the flat finally came into view, Jake breathed a sigh of relief. This, however, diminished when he heard your soft snores filling the small space of the cab. He internally cussed at himself, having previously wondered why you had gone suddenly quiet, realising he would not only have to wake you up, but get you inside.

Jake turned the key in the ignition, engine shutting off with a slight groan. He pinched the bridge of his nose lightly, dreading the moments from now until later. “Why has the road stopped moving?” The voice your voice, broke him from his worries, and when he turned to face you, your eyes were already desperately on his.

“Hasn’t, we have. Gotta get out now.”

“W-Wait, your leaving me again? Please don’t leave me here!” Jake felt something in his chest pang with sadness, but he pushed it away, remembering you were drunk and had little control over your heartfelt pleas.

“ ‘m not leaving you, look, we’re getting out the car together, yeah?” He demonstrated opening the door, motioning for you to do the same, and with a small smile of relief, you did. “There ya go.” He praised lightly as you copied his actions. “Now wait there, I’ll come an’ get you.”

“M’kay, Jakey, I’ll wait.” Fuck. The feeling was back in his chest, harder to push away this time. He did, however, ignore it, long enough to reach where you were sat obediently awaiting him. “Your back!” You quipped excitedly, hands reaching for him in a childlike manner. He didn’t answer, instead helped you up, felt goosebumps arise with every touch of your skin, felt his neck burn as your warm breezed over it.

The journey to the flat wasn’t as hard as he had envisioned. Once you got the hang of walking again, you were off, with his support, of course. You had made it to the door, Jake feeling instant relief wash over him as one of his alters promised it would be their turn. “Marc’s turn now, ‘kay? He’s gonna help- hey, listen, did’ya hear me?”

“Yes, Jake.” You try to say but it comes out as a laugh. “Stay safe.” His voice is stern, but the concern is there, hidden amongst the small façade he always has up. And then his eyes are rolling back, and Jake Lockley is gone for the night- instead, Marc’s there, eyes even harder than his alters. He says nothing as he unlocked the door to the flat, pushing it open with his foot as his arm comes around your waist. You hardly react to the contact, allowing him to guide you through the familiar haze of the apartment, the place that so often felt like home, even when all your senses were torn to shreds.

“Marc…” You suddenly let out, and he notices the buzz on your face has diminished, the way it always does by the end of the night.

“What?” He doesn’t mean to be short with you, really. But a part of him, much like Jake, still held a sort of bitterness- as he always has after an argument.

“Feel sick.” His own stomach drops as he springs into action, cussing loudly as he all but rushes you to the bathroom. Your cheeks are dramatically puffed with air as you gag, Marc barely getting you to the toilet in time before your spilling the remnants of the night into the basin. He sighed, one hand on firmly on your shoulder, helping hold you up, and the other rubbing soft circles on your back.

“C’mon, there you go, get it all out.” You do, until your insides are aching, and head is pounding. Finally, the sick ends. You practically fall backward, Marc barely catching you as he guides you to lean against the wall, figuring that would be an easier task than standing you back up.

“Hurts.” You whisper, burying your face in your hands, knees to your chest. “Your head?” Marc asks, but he already knows that’s the answer.

“My heart.” Oh. He turned to look at you, properly, for the first time since you came into the flat; you look terrible. Your top is hanging off your body, the action of leaning over the basin making it scramble to stay on right. Your mascara is smudged from tears. Your eyes are struggling to stay open, drooping further by the minute, and your hair has become a mess on top of your head.

Yet, Marc can’t help but think you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid his eyes upon.

No matter what situation you all found yourselves in, he would always think that. Always.

When he next spoke, the edge to his voice was gone, replaced with a layer of sympathy and compassion- not that you noticed, nor particularly cared. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He helped you stand up on your feet, trying to ignore your soft sniffles as you came down form the high of a night out. He couldn’t help but swipe a tear away from your cheek, leaving his thumb for a second longer than he knew he should, just to revel in your skin.

He started by wiping off as much of your make-up as he could, using one of the wipes you had stocked in his cupboard. When he turned on the tap, you groaned. “Hey, it’s okay, look, it’ll help your headache.”

“Noo, ‘s cold.”

“It’ll feel nice.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

“Pinkie promise?” Marc rolled his eyes as you held up your pinkie finger but didn’t refuse it. Instead, he interlocked his own with yours, grateful to see a least the hint of a smile tugging at the end of your lips. The water did ,in fact, offer some comfort from the heat and sweat on your skin, and you thanked Marc for keeping his promise. “Good job. Wanna brush your teeth?”

“You still have my toothbrush.” It was the first coherent sentence you had said in a while. He followed to where you were pointing, your toothbrush stood proudly with the boys. “Course, we do. It’s only been a few days.” “Thought you’d throw it away by now.”

“What d’you mean?”

“That you don’t love me anymore.” Marc swore his heart broke a little. His thoughts became jumbled, swirling around each other as he took in your words.

“What… are you, are you serious?”

“Can you do it for me?”

“Huh?” It took a moment for him to register what you were asking until you grabbed your toothbrush and held it out for him.

“Please?” Perhaps it was your pleading, or your eyes whilst saying it, but Marc couldn’t resist, taking the toothbrush and getting it ready. It was silly, really silly, especially since your mouth was already open as wide as it could be, teeth on display. Marc cleared his throat, debating on whether this was a task he wanted to do, before deciding the sooner he did, the sooner you could go to sleep. And so, he did.

You didn’t react at first, not even when Marc talked you through the first step. But suddenly, you found the situation rather amusing, a giggle leaving your lips as Marc brushed your back teeth. “What?” You didn’t respond at first, just laughed, and he found himself laughing too.

“’s weird.” You whispered, a hiccup escaping your mouth as Marc agreed.

“Certainly didn’t think I’d be doing this tonight, that’s for sure.”

“Sorry that I ruined your plans.”

“Yeah, well, your lucky I love you.” It came out so naturally, without question, that even in your drunken state, you knew he meant it. It was silent for the rest of the minute. When you were done, Marc told you to spit, which you did immediately. Marc suddenly realised what you were wearing. “Oh shit, wait here, lemme get you some clothes.”

“But I’m wearing clothes.”

“Clothes to sleep in.”

“…oh.” You said suggestively, and Marc raised an eyebrow.

“Stop messin’ around, need to get you changed.”

“Okay, Marc.”

“You gonna wait here?”

“Whatever you say, Marc.” His heart dropped every time you said his name, as if it were given a different meaning every time it left your lips. He was back quickly with one of the tops from the draw you had in their flat, the one he knew was your favourite.

“Arms up, baby.” The name slipped out, but you didn’t notice- it might’ve well as been your name from him. You obliged, silent now. He was grateful that the task didn’t take long, and soon enough, you were dressed comfortably. “All done.” He muttered, mostly to himself, but you smiled, reaching for his hand.

“Thank you, Marc.” He let his thumb rub over the skin of your palm, let his eyes lock with yours, pupils dilated. And then it wasn’t his eyes you were staring at anymore. “Hello, Steven.” You whispered, smiling.

“Hiya, lovie. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” He had already helped you up, hand still holding yours as he directed you the short distance to the bed.

“Why, Mr Grant, are you trying to get me into bed?”

“Very funny. C’mon, your very tired, practically fallin’ asleep walking, eh? Besides, your much too drunk to do anything expect from sleep peacefully. Look, I’ll tuck you in so you can do just that.” Steven pulled the duvet back for you to climb into the bed, and you instantly found comfort in their smell, the sheets that moulded against your body so well. It was familiar, it was home.

Steven kept his promise, pulling the duvet tightly over your body so that it was hugging you. He even went as far as lifting your head up with one hand plumping the pillow behind it, before gently placing it back down. “All better.” He muttered, proud at his work of making you a human cocoon.

“Thank you, Steven.”

“Your very welcome. Do you need anything?” You shook your head, eyes already closing from the undeniable comfort of the sheets.

“Okay. Welp, if you change your mind, gimme a shout, okay? I’ll just be on the sofa.” Your eyes shot back open, realisation hitting as you felt his presence leaving your side.

“No, wait, w-where are you going? Why are you leaving me?” Your eyes were getting watery as your hand reached out to tug on Steven’s shirt.

“No-no-no, ‘m not leaving you, would never leave you… I’m just over there, look.” You didn’t glance as he tried to show you the sofa, eyes trained on his own.

“Please…can you stay with me?” His eyes widened slightly, not sure if he should, not sure if you would wake up and be mad at him for staying in the same bed after not being on speaking terms. But the pout on your lips, the gentle tug on his shirt, the tears in your eyes… he agreed, slowly getting into the bed next to you.

He was surprised when you instantly snuck out his warmth, snuggling into his side and breathing a sigh of relief. His arms sought place on your frame- one over your shoulders, the other stroking the back of your neck. He thought you were asleep when your breathing got heavier, until your voice spoke again.

“Steven?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you angry at me?” He smiled, shaking his head, though you couldn’t see.

“No, love.”

“Really?”

“Course not. It’s in the past, yeah? Let’s just focus on getting you rested and better.”

“So you’ll stay with me?”

“All night long ‘till the sun comes up.”

“Steven?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Thank you for taking care ‘f me.”

“Of course, love.” And he smiled as he heard your gentle snores, feeling on the cusp of sleep himself. “Always.”

tags: @dalia-12-3 @kotonei-molyneux @lovepeaceorelse @lokilover476 @alexxavicry @later-gators12

#Moon Knight #moon knight imagine #moon knight angst #moon knight ff #moon knight fluff #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockely #steven grant fanfiction #jake lockley fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction #fluff #angst

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wordsofhoneydew · 21 days

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fic rec time!! lfg

here i compiled a list of 11 amazing fics under 500 kudos!! you have angst, smut, fluff, pinging, grief, hurt/comfort. you fucking name it, it’s here.

happy reading!

Invisible by @nocoastposts [100, G]

For the Brownstone Discord Server's weekly drabble prompt "invisible".

Total Eclipse by @myheartalivewrites [1k, T]

Alex is not sure what the fuck is happening here.

“And if you only hold me tight…”

A man—probably the most beautiful man he has ever seen—is up on stage in this karaoke bar, absolutely murdering Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart and he’s pretty sure the guy is crying and it’s one of the most horrifying things he’s ever seen and Alex cannot. Look. Away.

Be Mine (And Be Yourself) by @itsmaybitheway [9k, E]

It starts with a misunderstanding, the way it always does with them.

Early on in their relationship, when there wasn’t even a relationship to speak of, the misunderstandings used to feed the animosity.

Then they’ve turned into something softer when their relationship turned into something softer. Purposefully misunderstanding each other just to take a jab, messing around for the fun of it or turning an innocent comment into a filthy innuendo and watching the other squirm.

But this? Oh a misunderstanding has never been this delicious, this appetizing. This one feels like the door to fucking sexy Narnia and Alex can not wait to eat those delicious Turkish delights

OR Henry just wants to be Alex's pretty little princess and Alex will make sure he gets his wish! AKA my Valentine's Day fic with housewife!Henry

it's so hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands by @anincompletelist [6k, M]

His mother would have a fit if she could see him now, taking comfort he isn’t owed from men he shouldn’t want it from. But Henry wipes his tears with the back of his hand and Alex begins singing the dulcet tune of a Spanish lullaby and George feels, perhaps for the first time in his life, like he belongs.

the tragic flaw is that they hide the truth (that you’re enough, you’re enough) by srrafoxjournals [6k, NR]

Alex has been staring.

For weeks now, actually.

Henry had originally chalked it up to Alex being, well, Alex. But lately, Henry can’t help but take it in as more than just his boyfriend's usual oddness.

Or: After gaining some weight, Henry feels self conscious. Alex however, loves his tummy.

blurred lines. by seafloor [5k, E]

Henry is a lovesick writer; Alexander a charismatic bartender. They’re still fated to fall into bed at some point.

I will/I will/We will by @tintagel-or-cockleshells [6k, T]

Alex's wedding planning business is going from strength to strength, but if he never has another wedding at Mountchristen Manor it will be too soon. He just can't get along with Henry, the venue coordinator, and the feeling is mutual. But when push comes to shove, the couple's big day has to come first.

I’ll be with him again soon by mymistakesweremade4u [3k, T]

It's sometime in mid-January, just a couple of months shy of his 95th birthday, when Henry finds himself surrounded by family in his and Alex's bedroom.

Or, Alex and Henry grew old together.

beg you on my knees (to stay) by @littlemisskittentoes [13k, E]

“Up.” Henry keeps the tone low. Controlled.

Alex is often frantic to follow commands, his limbs falling over themselves in his haste to obey. There’s no sign of that rushed need now. He takes his time, unfolding himself leisurely.

“You’re bold,” Henry monotones. He takes calculated steps forward, punctuating each slow stride with the unbutton and roll of his shirt sleeves. “I’ll give you that.”

“You’re only now realizing? Thought you were brighter than that, baby.”

keep me up all night / i wanna scratch your surface by @firenati0n [1k, M]

They step inside, greeted by moonlight streaming through the windows, illuminating their living room in a dreamy light; it’s enough to see outlines and shapes, enough to keep everything just a little bit secretive, a little softer around the edges.

Henry moves his hand to flick on the kitchen light, and Alex’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist. Henry looks down at him questioningly, blue eyes sparkling even with the absence of light. Alex always feels a little off-kilter around him, Henry both his center of gravity and his reason for vertigo. He’s stabilizing, and dizzying, and everything.

Alex’s thumb and index finger circle Henry’s slender wrist, exerting the slightest pressure. He feels Henry's pulse jump under his thumb.

“Get on the couch.”

don’t let me get drunk again by @getmehighonmagic [3k, E]

Alex had never wanted to cancel plans as much as he had while watching Henry pull a pair of light wash, tight jeans over his stockinged legs and bare ass.

Christ, he’s getting hard thinking about it now.

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asawaniej · 3 months

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!Canon!EJ relationship ~~~headcannons!~~~

!GN! reader (gender neutral)

(Masterlist) (EJ List)

•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•

This fella here doesn't have any backstory of sorts, nor will the creator will probably add since (you guess it) is anonymous, And canon is canon meaning no cult,no eye scooping etc. Just canon without the backstory :3.

Headcannons under the line!

|?Canon!Eyeless jack| relationship| headcannons|

First thing you need to know is, this little fella won't just fall in love with you, you have to go through the 5 stages of grief and level with this little pookie

Defense

Words of Affirmation / Trust / Acts of Service

Anti-Aggro

First

Cherish

First is Defense, this man will NEVER find you pretty/handsome at first glance, he will always be aggro, so you have to defense yourself first before stage 2

Second is Trust or Words of Affirmation,(or Acts of Service), this little dude will need your trust first before he will finally atleast stay 5 feet away from you (it's alot be grateful that your even in his presence without him killing you or grabbing onto your kidneys 💀)

Third is Anti-Aggro, you'll need his trust coming from Stage 2 so he finally won't just lunge at you and grab your kidneys, pretty much like the name says you'll have to make him Anti-Aggro to you if you want him to be your little pookie bear

Forth is quite confusing, but First is pretty much as in First. You'll be his first love/friend/best friend etc. (First can be platonic or romantic because he has probably never experienced his First love or friend or something yet)

Fifth is Cherish, if you finally got the heart of this little demon man you are in LUCK because, wow???, dang you got the heart of the cannibal monster! Now make sure you don't upset him.

Although these are just measly 5 stages, don't underestimate them! The longest process is gaining his trust! And that blue man won't easily trust you ofcource! It would probably take months or even years to fully gain his trust. But if it takes you a couple of weeks then wow! You are such a person you know?

But seriously. If he cherishes you. Don't be an ass and use it to your advantage! He probably hasn't talked to a human in ever!

But the introduction is over, hey!, you got the heart of a CANNIBAL???, dang. Switched roles right???

When you guys are in a relationship, you'll have to be the one to have confessed sorry! Canon is Canon. Anyways, there's rarely any fights between you guys!

It's more of the fact he doesn't really speak. But if you do get on a fight with him then that's mostly because his been comfortable putting his organ jars on your fridge... Don't expect him to stop tho.

Expresses his love by giving you his kidney. (No not his.) With a bit of dressing of your favourite!

If you tell him you can't eat it he will be quite upset. Might as well eat it yk?? /j

He will fall more Inlove with you if you organize his jars or buy him his own fridge where he could put his kidneys at

Though if you DO mess with his jars that is not meant to be organized he will be upset but hides it, as for the fridge part. He won't be over to the moon happy, he will just be grateful ykyk??? But that won't stop him from putting jars in your fridge because his more comfortable to it and is LITTERALY attached to it because of you

Will on accident always scare you since he wears all black attire and is VERY sneaky

Hey, as much as he is a demon (or creature idk) he loves you even if it shows in a... Demonic way? Your choice. But he truly does cherish you and will protect you :3 just don't upset him ykyk...

#eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack creepypasta #creepypasta #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 11 months

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too fast

Summary: Sarah getting her first period, leaves Joel Miller standing confused in the women's hygiene aisle where you, his high school sweetheart, find him and offer your help.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.5k

Rating: G

Warmings: pre outbreak, talks about periods, little angst, some fluff

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications for new updates

It was moments like these that Joel Miller cursed being a male single parent.

His little girl, who still sneaked into his bed at night when she had a nightmare, had gotten her period. Eleven year old girls shouldn’t have to deal with periods.

She was very grown up about it.

Probably more than he was.

He wasn’t ready for his little girl to grow up. He probably never would be.

It was Saturday, they didn’t have any plans for the weekend so Sarah was outside reading a book with a mocktail (it was orange and lemon juice with a tiny paper umbrella in a cocktail glass) while he fixed the creaking front porch with his brother.

Sarah had approached them outside, waiting for both of the Miller brothers to look up, Joel immediately frowning at the look on her face as she said.

“Daddy can you buy me some pads? I think I just got my period.”

Even if he knew that this day would be coming in the near future, he wasn’t prepared, nor did he know how to react for a good ten seconds.

He was very happy that he had raised his girl to be open with him, making her feel safe enough to talk about anything. But in this moment he had been a little overwhelmed, thankful when his little brother stepped up and hugged Sarah, whispering some gentle words.

Joel went through all stages of grief in the span of fifteen seconds before he brushed his dirty hands on his jeans and knelt down in front of his little girl who jumped into his arms as soon as he opened them.

He could only imagine how scary it was to suddenly start bleeding. Joel was thankful that he had the talk with her the year before. Even if it seemed too early back then, it was his brother who had made him aware of how soon kids seemed to be growing up nowadays.

Now he was in Target, in the middle of the female hygiene aisle, looking at tampons and pads and things he hadn’t dealt or heard about since Sarah’s mother left them ten years ago.

Back then he knew what kind and size of Tampons he had to buy. But what do you buy for a little girl?

Pads, she said. So he left the tampons behind and approached the very colourful packages of various sizes of pads. There were smiling women on some of the packages and he tried to think of a single woman who enjoyed having her period.

Sarah’s mother had the worst of cramps and sometimes did not leave the bed. And she was craving vanilla pudding from that one brand he couldn’t remember the name of.

He had one package in a size one for heavy flow days and another package of size two for regular. There were also super long pads that looked like they were only a step away from being a diaper.

Truth to be told, he was a little overwhelmed and had no idea what he should buy when someone cleared their throat from his left side. He turned his head to find you looking at him.

“Need any help there, Miller?”

You just wanted to grab a package of tampons on your way home. That, of course, turned into buying ice cream, some sushi and some sweets. You were already on your way to pay when you remembered why you had come here in the first place, rolling your eyes to yourself. Making your way to the women’s hygiene aisle you groaned internally, finding the brand you always bought not there, taking a couple minutes to decide to buy just the smaller size of the same brand and come back the next day.

You turned around to leave when you noticed Joel Miller staring at two packages of pads so intently like they were his taxes. He was so focused on them that he almost jumped when you asked if he needed any help, his eyes widening in surprise, before they softened.

You and Joel went to high school together.

He was the captain of the football team and you were…. The typical nerd with your nose always stuck in a book. Sure, you had a crush on him, but you never thought he noticed you. You were proven wrong on prom night of all nights when he asked you to be his date. What could have started as a fairytale love story had a fast approaching end date, as you were leaving for college on the other side of the united states (with a full scholarship thanks to your superb grades) later that same summer and Joel was set to go to another college near his hometown, so he could keep working at his fathers contracting company.

You had spent the whole summer together before you said goodbye.

You moved away, studied, got the dream job you always wanted. You got married, had a baby girl who was now seven years old, got divorced and then moved back to your hometown earlier the year before.

You hadn’t kept in contact with Joel, but you knew he did not finish college, got married and had a baby girl as well the year after you left.

You had started running into each other when you moved back, before he invited you and your daughter over for a BBQ months ago. Now you were meeting at least once a month when you both found the time.

He was looking at you, his eyebrows furrowed, his lips pursed.

“Sarah got her period and I have no idea what to buy. Like… There are so many sizes and variants and materials. How in the hell do you know what size to buy?”

A small smile sneaked to your face.

“Honestly? By trying out. There’s no real instruction as to what kind of pad to use. There used to be a sample package but I haven’t seen those in forever.”

He sighed and shook his head.

“As if women don’t have enough to deal with,” he grunted.

“Hear, hear,” you chuckled.

It was probably not appropriate to admire how his arms looked in the shirt he was wearing, but you did it anyway. Joel Miller had aged like fine wine, and the more time you spent with him, the more you felt like the sixteen year old all these years back who sneaked off in the middle of the night to make out with him.

“Do you think these would be right for Sarah?” he asked, holding the two packages up.

You read over them, nodding thoughtfully.

“I would take these and maybe some from size on in regular. She is pretty small, but better safe than sorry.”

You reached for the third package and he sighed.

“I cannot believe she’s growing up so fast,” he whispered to himself. You carefully put your hand on his arm and he looked at you.

“She’s still your little girl. And she will always be. You’re doing a great job with her.”

He gave you a small smile, before he sighed.

“I should probably get her something else. Is it weird to get her a gift?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I don’t think so. Maybe get her some candy. Or cook her favourite meal. That’s what I do,” you held your basket up.

“Maybe I should invite you too if I end up cooking tonight,” he said and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Joel…”

“I mean if you want to. You could bring your girl and we could have a movie night….” he added.

“She’s with her dad this weekend. And you should spend tonight with your daughter. It’s a big day for her,” you said.

His face fell a little at your rejection. It wasn’t like you did not want to spend time with him, but it did not feel right like that.

“Yeah. Yeah I guess you’re right,” he mumbled. He pulled all three packages under his arm.

“But if you want to ask me out to dinner some other time, I’m 100% sure I will say yes,” you smiled shyly.

He tilted his head, a smile sneaking to his lips.

“That so?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Maybe even without our kids,” you hummed, taking a step closer.

“I think we can arrange that,” he hummed back.

A cart crashing into something behind you made you both jump before you laughed.

“I should get back,” he said.

“Me too. The ice cream is already melting,” you joked.

“Change it out for a new one,” he winked.

“So smart,” you shook your head with a smile.

“I’ll call you,” he promised.

“Okay,” you smiled before you slowly turned and walked away from him.

#my fic #Joel miller #Joel miller x fem. reader #Pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #tlou fanfiction

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sleepingdeath-light · 1 year

Note

TOH WITH A IMMORTAL READER!

Okay so this wasn’t a specific request or anything so I’m just going to answer here with how I think each character would cope with having an immortal significant other. This got very long as I included basically everyone that’s on my masterlist… oops!

Also, to reiterate, these are just my thoughts so they’re very biased towards how I interpret the characters — and your relationship with the characters can be romantic or queer-platonic or similar depending on your preference!

Thoughts below the cut!

Adrian Graye-Vernworth

doesn’t even remotely believe you at first and will probably assume you’re joking. but once he does recognise your honesty then he’ll probably have something of a breakdown for a while and step back from your relationship — equal parts jealous of the life you’ve lived and horrified at the idea of just being a blip on the radar of your infinite life. it’s 50/50 whether this is a dealbreaker for him and he’ll either slowly inch back into your relationship or just break up with you because of the stress.

Alador Blight

alador is mostly neutral to your immortality when it comes to your relationship. like he’ll call on you for a second opinion when he’s working on something and will draw on your experience to further help his fellow witches — but he doesn’t really think about it any beyond that. though he does sometimes worry about you and how you’ll cope when he’s gone (because he knows that losing you would break him).

Amity Blight

when you tell her it’s quite the shock to the system and she doesn’t really know what to say or how to react. she’ll freeze up and you can see her thinking as she considers her response before she finally squeezes your hands and thanks you for telling her. she’d want to stay with you and wouldn’t want to break up, but she’d definitely have a few crises over the fact that you’ve lived so long before her and you will live so long after — but she also finds a small bit of comfort in the idea that she’ll never have to live without you.

Belos / Philip Wittebane

he’s been alive for far longer than he ever should have been because of his mission, so the idea of immortal entities isn’t difficult for him to believe. so upon finding out about your condition, he’s amazed but not necessarily startled by it — asking you about your origins and if there are more beings like you out there. if he truly cares about you, he’ll stick by you for as long as he’s able to keep his form stable — but if he doesn’t then he’ll just use you to find a way to complete his goal and lengthen his life further.

Boscha

boscha is someone else who wouldn’t believe you when you told her — going from genuine disbelief to shaky doubt to outright terrified denial and then through the stages of grief as she comes to terms with your condition. as sad as it sounds, this would probably end up being a deal breaker and would end your relationship as she would struggle too much with your past and future to be with you beyond that.

Camila Noceda

she doesn’t believe you at first, thinking that you’re just older than her as she’s seen some strange things but immortality is just so far beyond that. it takes her some time to come to terms with this but you do end up bonding over the losses you’ve experienced throughout your lives — you, your various lovers and friends, and her, luz’s father. she insists on learning your native language and teaching you hers so that you have an experience to remember her by.

Collector

having an immortal significant other would be the best case scenario for collector given his own life span. they wouldn’t have to worry about losing you prematurely and you’d be able to understand the issues he’s faced throughout their long life — whilst also having all the time in the world to grow with him and together as a couple. so they would be hopeful to have a spouse with this trait.

Darius Deamonne

this wouldn’t be a dealbreaker for darius but he would have a serious, long conversation about where you both stand and how your experiences would impact your relationship. he wouldn’t necessarily ask about your past relationships but he would be curious about older ages of magic on the isles and how other realms function — and especially how that can help the rebellion against belos.

Eberwolf

they’re pretty chill about the whole thing, honestly — like it rarely ever comes up in conversation so there’s no real impact on your relationship. you two just continue vibing together and spending the time you have wisely (by having fun) without the stresses such a realisation often bring. really they’re the best person you could have told — they only bring it up once or maybe twice and it’s only to make fun of you (lovingly, of course).

Eda Clawthorne

your immortality means that you have more knowledge of the world before belos and, thus, wild magic and magic as a whole. this means that eda will be looking to you to learn more about the owl beast, the history of those like her and if you ever came to know others with similar curses. she’d also insist on you teaching her about the people you loved and she’ll happily talk about raine (she’s far from the jealous type, but she is something of a gossip). she doesn’t care about making scrapbooks or taking pictures and prefers living in the moment with you and your family — living in the ‘doing’ world rather than focusing on capturing every little thing. you’ll look back on this with king and fleetingly wish you had more pictures, but the memory of her laugh and smile is tangible enough that neither of you feel like you’re missing out on too much.

Edric Blight

he will probably have something of an existential crisis about his own mortality when you tell him and would insist on finding a way to make himself live as long as you do. he starts comparing himself to the people you loved and lost and you’ll end up having to talk him into getting some help for it. your relationship will be permanently changed by this, but you will grow and heal with time — it’s just such a shock for him that he takes a bit of a mental health wobble whilst he comes to terms with it.

Emira Blight

em tends to bottle up her feelings a lot and will initially come off as very accepting and calm about the whole thing — but make no mistake this poor woman is one mislabelled jar of seasoning away from a breakdown. she’s now very aware of her own mortality and that she’s one of the probably dozens you’ve loved and lost and she’s absolutely terrified of being forgotten and lost to the sands of time. she’ll insist on keeping thorough, reliable records of your time together and by the time she’s old and you’re young you’ll be spending your last days together looking over them and laughing and crying and holding each other — finally ready to say goodbye.

Gus Porter

he will bombard you with questions about your life nonstop. did you ever live in the human realm? how has it changed? how has the boiling isles changed? there’s so much he wants to know and he has all the time in the world to listen to you talk — and he will note down everything you say and look at you with complete interest. so yeah he’ll still love you just as much as before, he’s just very nosy and eager to learn.

Hunter Wittebane

hunter is someone that would likely have a few hang-ups regarding true- and pseudo- immortality given his status as a clone/grimwalker. he’d have to do a lot of thinking regarding your relationship once he found out and a lot of serious conversations would be had about his natural lifespan compared to yours. in the end you would stay together and he’d be with you for a significant period of it (a few hundred years given him being similar to palismen) with him insisting that you don’t bring him back once he’s gone.

Lilith Clawthorne

she’d be absolutely entranced by your condition and would start fangirling over everything you must have experienced. you’ll end up getting interviewed and documented in every way possible as she asks about your history in and beyond the isles. though she might spend a bit more time on the deadwardian period than anything else (she’s biased, okay!).

Luz Noceda

luz would be amazed with you and would be eager to learn your story — as well as just about everything about you. she wants to learn your native language and hear about the cultures and people you knew throughout the years, especially if it involves some form of magic. she does, however, insist on making lots of memories with you and recording them so you never forget her.

Mattholomule

another one that doesn’t believe you but in mattholomule’s case he never ends up believing you. in his mind you’re just making a weird joke and there comes a point where you just stop trying to correct him and just live your life out with him — watching him grow old and grey whilst you remain the same. it’s on his death bed when he finally realises, but the life you shared was full of laughter and love so neither of you find it in yourselves to complain.

Odalia Blight

she is the type to use your status to her advantage which means that your relationship dynamic would inevitably shift. like she’d still care about you and be as affectionate as before, but she insists on showing you off and presenting herself as the wife of an immortal being in order to put herself above her fellow witches. you can tell her to knock it off. it will not work.

Raine Whispers

raine is heartbroken for you when they realise just how much you’ve lost throughout your life and they insist on memorialising your lost loved ones however they can. they help you write ballads for deceased lovers and learn to play songs from your home (even if their pronunciation is very shaky) because they care so deeply about you. they don’t talk about their concerns often, but they do ask that you remember them — and they leave you plenty of songs behind to do so.

Steve

as he’s quite possibly the most chilled out person in the boiling isles, steve doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re immortal. like when you tell him he’ll ask you a few questions about yourself and your past, but otherwise your relationship will stay the same and he’ll keep on keeping on. might expect the occasional cool story from your past, though, when you’ve both been drinking some apple blood.

Terra Snapdragon

she will most likely treat this as an opportunity to gain more power through your relationship. like she does care for you as you are her spouse at the end of the day, but she’s also incredibly power-hungry and having a partner who is immortal and has more experience than basically every other living entity is the ideal opportunity for her to get what she wants. so she definitely wouldn’t leave you, but the dynamic between the two of you would definitely change.

Viney

this wouldn’t be the end of your relationship but it would change a lot. viney insists on the two of you continuing to live in the moment together, focusing on making lasting memories doing things that you both love so that you never forget her. that means frequent fun dates, time spent teaching as a team, helping everyone you can and just spending time together doing what you love and having as much fun as you can whilst doing so.

Willow Park

willow is shocked by the revelation of your immortality but she doesn’t make too much of a big deal of it. like she will sit down with you and discuss anything you want to talk about, but generally your relationship remains unchanged. the only change is that she starts writing letters for you and hiding them — wanting to leave something behind for you once she’s gone.

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digitaldiarystuff · 4 months

Text

Bad Liar Pt.3

note: thank you for all your comments about the direction of the story and this is a long story, let’s see what happens next

————

summary: you are in a long time situationship with pedri and you’re falling more and more everyday hoping he feels the same until you discover a secret changing everything

pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Y/N

genre: pure angst

————

It had been two months since your last talk with Pedri and your life seemed to change drastically. You didn’t speak at all, even when he called one night out of the blue at 3 a.m. you didn’t answer. You were afraid of what he was going to say because even after everything you would’ve ran to him if he said he’s feeling horrible. That’s why you went no contact, just watching his games and pre and post interviews just to hear his voice, your friends strongly disagreed about you watching them but you told them you needed it.

His relationship seemed to end, since there was no updated stories or outings caught by the paparazzi but you can never be sure, what if he used the same tactics on her, telling her they should hide just so they don’t hurt her.

You went through every stage of grief.

Denial, you often found yourself thinking this wasn’t real, that in some fucked up way he was lying to you to protect you or that he loved you and that’s why he tried getting rid of you so you can be better off.

Anger, then came the time when you wrecked your room when you saw one of his hoodies sitting on your closet, you threw a tantrum and shattered the one framed picture you had together. Pedri was not into selfies, or so he has said but he liked this one so much that he got it framed for you. You threw all your belongings around in that state and felt pure anger in your veins. How could he?

Bargaining, you tried making deals with yourself, if you could go 2 days without thinking about him you could watch his game but it was no use. You couldn’t stop thinking about him as you couldn’t not watch his games.

Depression, this was the hardest stage yet. You felt empty and couldn’t even move for days at a time. You couldn’t eat which made you lose weight and since you’re not fed, you had even less energy to wake up. It lasted for a long period when you couldn’t even focus on your tests so not only you’ve lost him you also slipped up on your academic life. Everything started spiraling.

Then came the acceptance, where you slowly wrap your mind around what happened and there’s nothing you could do to prevent it. It wasn’t your fault but the only person hurting was also you. You didn’t need this, you had to start over and let go of him for yourself. You started attending classes again and taking care of yourself, went on long walks around the neighborhood started drinking water a lot more and did skin treatments for the breakouts you had over the last couple of months. Yes you were sad but life goes on, if people can start over at any point then so can you.

You reconnected with your friends after a long time without any. You thought they’d be mad but they were incredibly supportive of your decision to be better and tried everything they could. They even helped you to get rid of everything that reminded you of him. His clothes, perfume bottle, shaving cream and the groceries you had just for his visits. You felt like throwing a party of yourself with those trash bags but you didn’t mind. You even got rid of the christmas tree, christmas already came and go but knowing he helped you decorate it, you couldn’t look at it without breaking down. But now, your apartment looked so fresh with some new plants and different aesthetic, it was dark and gloomy before.

You decided to post a story of your new living space after being mia for months. You were proud of your progress.

ynyln

You checked your phone after a minute to see who viewed it and saw his name at the top of the list. He didn’t react or dm’ed you just saw it in 20 seconds which made you wonder if he had your post notifications on but you quickly shrugged the idea and blocked him on everything. You hadn’t thought of it until now because he never tried reaching you.

The next day you met Rosa, a close friend of yours for an afternoon coffee after your classes and caught up with what’s going on in her life. She was doing good and so were you.

“Btw, Mateo’s been asking about you nonstop.” giggled Rosa.

“Why?” you curiously asked.

“Why? How can you be so blind, he’s obsessed with you.” she said. Mateo was a classmate of yours and he did have a flirty personality but you never paid much attention to it because your mind was always elsewhere.

“I didn’t realize.” you confessed.

“Well, you should. Just a heads up he’s coming over here and I have to handle some family business so have fun on your date. Trust me you’ll thank me later.” she said as she stood up to greet him.

He hugged her and then looked at you.

“I like the new hair, you look great.” he smiled politely and you rose from your chair to hug him as well. You were still shocked at Rosa’s devilish plan and she was smirking to you as she said she had to leave.

“Do you want a refill?” Mateo asked when Rosa left. You didn’t even realize your cup was empty.

“That would be great.” you handed him the cup and he went to the counter.

This was the first time you had your eyes open for a while and you took in his appearance, he was tall and muscular, you knew he liked going to the gym but never cared to actually realize how good he looked. He was also a brunette but his hair was much lighter than… Pedri. You quickly shook your head and tried getting rid of Pedri’s image. You were giving yourself a chance to move on and he wasn’t going to stop you.

It was 3 months after your first date with Mateo and you were seeing each other ever since. It was going pretty good, even though you weren’t in love with him but you really liked him. And you realized love can only hurt you and you were better off without it. Mateo was safe, he was willing to go with your pace never pushing you for anything. You told him pretty early in your relationship that you don’t feel comfortable being intimate with him now, he knew of your past but didn’t know who it was but assured you it was okay and you should take your time. Tonight was his birthday, he wanted to celebrate with only you but his friends wanted to throw him a party at a club in the heart of the city. You knew this club, Pedri sometimes visited it but of course he never wanted to take you. When you first heard the name of the place, you felt like fainting but after checking the fixture you realized it was a match day. You haven’t watched any games since your 4th date with Mateo, you figured it’d be disrespectful and you were trying to get on with your life. Since it was a match day, you knew it was unlikely Pedri would be there. He was a homebody and didn’t really liked going out after matches. You texted Mateo a paragraph celebrating his birthday and telling how excited you were to be with him tonight. He thanked you and said he can’t wait. Tonight also had another big meaning, you felt like you were ready to finally be with him, fully. Everything was going great and he was a genuine person, you found it hard to believe at first but he seemed like a person you can trust.

You met everyone at the club around 10. You were wearing a strapless white short dress and did your hair in a slicked back ponytail while Mateo was wearing a white button up shirt, you properly looked like a couple without even trying. As you danced around the crowd with champagne glasses in your hands, your friend took a picture of you that you loved, everything looked so good. Mateo asked if he could post it as a story and you knew he was just trying to ask you to do the same. You never posted or tagged each other before, you knew he wanted to but you couldn’t. Even though Pedri wasn’t in your list anymore, showing everyone you were with someone didn’t sit right with you. Maybe he fucked your mind so much that you didn’t know what’s the norm anymore. Still, you were slightly uncomfortable but it was Mateo’s birthday and you didn’t want to upset him and agreed. You both posted the picture on your stories and put your phones back to your pockets enjoying the rest of the night.

ynyln tagged @mateoln

You stumbled out the club a few hours later, Mateo was beyond drunk and he was holding onto his best friend like a koala. He drank so much and you started to feel a little out of place, you were never a heavy drinker and preferred your boyfriend do the same. But it was his big night and you didn’t want to scold him for not holding back, maybe he needed this.

But seeing him utterly intoxicated waiting for a cab made you sober up even more, he didn’t even know where he was or who he was with. You knew he went out to party once a week with his friends but never questioned, was he like this every time?

“Are you coming to his house?” his best friend asked you after putting him in the backseat. They were going to crash there tonight.

“Um, no no I have an early class tomorrow I should get some rest. Text me when you arrive though.” you said and waved at them as the cab slowly turned around going in his way.

You requested an uber and got out in front of your building. You walked in and out of the elevator with some thoughts in your head, you thought tonight you’d give yourself to him but he was so off that he wouldn’t even remember if you did. Also, why weren’t you sad and more relieved that you hadn’t shared any moments like that? You slowly opened the door and went in, seeing a figure on the couch sitting with their elbows on their knees. You started to scream and search for the light switch. As you pressed it, the figure came close to you and shushed you. That’s when you realized who it was and stopped squirming and trying to escape although maybe you should have.

“Pedri?” you asked confused and terrified. “What are you doing here? How- How did you”

“I used the spare key under the rug.” he said and you could smell the alcohol from a mile away. He was slurring a little and his eyes hardly focused as they went from your face to your dress to the apartment behind you.

“What’s going on?” you asked as you hung your coat and purse.

“Where’s he?” he asked head low.

“Who?” you asked trying to understand why he was here after months and months drunk out of his mind and broke into your apartment without you knowing. He went to try to sit down as you washed your hands quickly and poured him some water.

“Mateo.” he hissed like saying the name made him feel disgusted and you realized he must’ve seen your story.

“But how did you- Gavi.” you cut yourself off, even though you blocked Pedri, you liked his younger best friend and didn’t see a reason to cut him off too. Gavi probably sent your photo to him. You saw him struggling trying to sit down on the couch and held his arm for some support.

“How much did you drink?” you asked annoyed. One drunk man was bad enough and now you had to deal with two.

“Tell me, are you with him?” he finally sat straight and looked at you with puppy eyes. His under eye bags were looking even more deep and his eyes were bloodshot. You couldn’t help but feel awful at his state, your heart started beating so much more since the moment you laid eyes on him than in the previous months of being with Mateo but you couldn’t break right now.

“Pedri, I don’t think you being here is a good idea. We’re both in relationships and this is not right.” you said and even if this was true, your intention was to find out if he’s still with her.

He said nothing and just threw his phone slowly at your side of the couch. You yelped but didn’t touch it, not sure why he did that.

“Go through my phone.” he said.

“Why?”

“Go through it and see everything for yourself. I’m not in a relationship, I’m not even talking to anyone else than my family.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was he telling the truth and even if he was, was this really the way he wanted to tell you

“Why are you telling me this? Is this supposed to make a difference?”

He shuffled closer to you to hold your arms making you look up at him.

“I’m a mess, I fucked up, I hurt you and deserve every bad thing in the world. I know it’s not fair for me to get mad at you for moving on but” he sighed and searched your eyes “But I can’t” you closed your eyes trying hard to not cry. But soon your tears started rolling down your face and Pedri quickly wiped them and hid your face in his chest trying to calm you. He stroke your hair and whispered it’s okay over and over. You hated him but it worked, it always did. His words, his voice and eyes made you feel like everything was going to be okay and you were afraid of just falling under his spell again.

“Pedri you can’t do this to me.” you said in a small voice.

“I know I’m sorry but I can’t go on like this, I’m selfish and I don’t deserve you but if you let me I can show you how much I’ve changed. How much I want you.” he said as his eyes slowly turned to your lips, his voice got huskier and you self consciously licked your lips and he kissed you. As his lips landed on yours, it felt like you were at home, it felt so warm and familiar. After many months, you finally felt safe and comfortable and his movements were so much softer than you remembered. Before, most of your kisses were filled with lust and happened in a rush but this one felt like he was genuinely showing you his love.

Not good enough.

You pulled back and looked at him. His eyes were softer and much more hopeful but this wasn’t going to make you cave. If he really wanted this, he needed to tell you, showing wasn’t enough.

“Give me a reason.” you slowly said.

“Because you want to.”

“It’s not good enough.”

“Because I want you to.”

“Not good enough. Give me the true reason. Three words, eight letters. Say it and I’m yours.” you said with pleading eyes. You needed him to say it.

“I” he started. “I-“

“Thank you, that’s all I needed to hear.” you said and freed yourself from his touch. You didn’t even look at him.

“You can get out, stay here I don’t care. Just be gone in the morning.” you stated and went into your bedroom shutting the door harshly. You can’t let him destroy you again.

As you sat on the bed sobbing you heard the front door shut and realized he was a coward and a liar all over again.

You hated him.

————

note: ok listen to me i’m sorry i used blair and chuck’s scene but while i was writing it was the only thing that felt right and i’m so in my feelings rn hope you like it and part 4 will be up 2 days later so stay tuned 💔

please please tell me how this is going comments really help me🥹

#football #football imagine #football x reader #football x y/n #football oneshot #football x you #fc barcelona #football angst #football one shot #football blurb #pedri gonzalez #pedri angst #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri blurb #pedri one shot #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedrito

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