#why was that the first thing i had to see when i walked into my favorite bookstoređđđ
FLOWERS FOR THE 'TOTALLY-A-COUPLE' FRIENDS
oscar piastri x reader
when two friends visit the market and, upon seeing free flowers being given out to couples, they decide to pretend to date for the sake of free flowers. when they end up liking the idea of pretending to be together, they end up wondering why they need to pretend to begin with.
credit to @foreveralbon for the idea!!!! <333
authors note: this was so fun to make!!! i really wanted to make something for oscar and totally stole this idea from liyah (THANK YOU AGAIN!!!) so I finally have an imagine for oscar yay!!!
SOMETIMES ITâS NORMAL FOR FRIENDS TO PRETEND. pretend theyâre fighting, pretend while playing games, pretend theyâre racing against traffic, pretend they donât really like each other more than friends.
they pretend theyâre dating for the sake of free flowers from a random guy in a market that they visited as friends because they are friends. they are friends. itâs totally normal, totally completely normal for friends to do such things.
it was as simple as that.
at least it was before it all happened because now they didnât know if they were just pretending anymore or if they had dropped the act hours ago. was it all really that simple now?
it was a clear day in oscarâs hometown and what better way to spend such a beautiful day off than in the company of his good, even best, friend at a market down the street from where he grew up. considering she hadnât grown up in the area he had, he wanted to show her around all the classic spots that he used to frequent with his mum as a little kid.
well, now he felt like his mum when she used to drag him to all the corner stores or street markets in the blazing sun and smudge sunscreen on his face, except now itâs with her. his best friend, and only his friend and nothing more because his mother was convinced he was smitten. he always denied it.
but everyone could see the way he looked at her whenever he smiled, how she would be the first person he looked to when he laughed at a joke someone else made.
everyone knew except for them, it was painfully obvious that they both felt more for each other than they allowed, and they were painfully oblivious.
the walk on grass, through the bustling market, was relaxing with hands to their sides and their shoulders constantly touching. every so often, they'd look away with red faces and awkward smiles as their hands just barely grazed each otherâs skin, but they never closed that gap. it had been happening for months and their friends were clawing at their eyes just waiting for it to happen.
but they weren't here to push them together, just the two friends walking past different stalls of clothes, antiques, accessories, and other various items.
a light breeze blew her hair into her face, causing the constant sputtering of lips as strands stuck to her lip gloss.
of course, in true friend fashion, he laughed every time at her struggles with taming her hair, telling her without fail, âyou should really put your hair up, it'll only keep getting in your face.â
she scoffed at him as he pulled strands from her face and futilely attempted to tuck them behind her ears as they blew back into her face.
âi don't think i even have a hair tie,â she whined as she pulled her hair back but couldn't tie it up.
âoh, wait, i do,â he remembered the band on his wrist, years of being friends meant carrying hair ties around for the girl because she wouldn't.
she gasped softly, taking it from his hand that held it flat on his palm, muttering âoh my god, osc, i love you so much, thank you,â she rambled under her breath, ânot going to question why you even have it.â
a smile graced his face, completely tuning out her last words at the nickname she had called him. it made his heart flutter every time.
the words âi love youâ had been said constantly throughout their friendship that it was second nature at this point. to them, it was just a simple sentence they threw around, though the saying became more and more frequent in the past few months.
maybe it was their way of getting to say their feelings in a disguised, double-meaning phrase that wouldn't confuse what they were.
oh, but it did.
at this point, the words âi like youâ held deeper values because it told them how they really felt, but they would never say it. they could've rehearsed it in their heads for days, weeks, or months on end just at the end of the day to say the thing that felt safest. i love you.
he simply muttered back in admiration, âyou're welcome.â a smile played on his lips for the longest time, the more he looked at her, the warmer and fuzzier he felt his heart become.
maybe his mum was right.
he shook his head internally. no, she couldn't be. but as he looked at the girl, in such deep admiration like she was the only thing to have ever existed in his life before, he wasn't so sure.
he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as they continued on walking. the breeze had calmed, and her hair was safely tied up and out of her face. back to grazing hands ever so slightly and arms rubbing against each other caused goosebumps to line their skin.
it was cold, they said to play it off as they looked in opposite directions. the more time passed, the more they hung out, the more excuses they made, and the more awkward it became.
the awkward silence between the pair, birds chirping and other monotonous conversations were the only thing heard until a deep voice called from somewhere up ahead of the crowd.
she stood on the tips of her toes to see over the heads of other people while he made no effort to because he already could.
âguyâs handing out free flowers,â oscar started before pausing and looking at her, âfor couples.â he scratched his neck again.
she exhaled sharply, âwe could totally pull off being a couple,â she slowed down to the side and stood in front of him. he looked down at her with raised eyebrows and a racing heart.
âyou think?â he tilted his head with thought, pursing his lips, âfree flowers are free flowers.â
âexactly,â she said in a intellectual tone, holding her hand out for him to grab, âwhat do you say?â
he thought for a moment. at least he acted like he did because he would've grabbed her hand in a heartbeat, but he couldn't make it obvious.
âalright,â he agreed, hesitantly interlacing their fingers together, âbut if youâre uncomfortable at any time, we can stop.â
she rolled her eyes, turning back walking into the crowd, now with his hand interlocked with hers at their sides, âyeah, yeah.â
but he pulled her back before she could slip into the crowd, bumping back against his arm, âpromise me, you'd say something.â
she paused, and sighed, âi promise, okay, let's go,â she pulled him along, feeling his slight resistance while dragging him because he thought I'd be fun to see her struggle.
when she gave him a look when she turned her head, only then did he follow alongside her.
the guy handing out the free flowers wasn't too far from them, considering how loud he was when they first heard him.
when they first approached him, they could tell he was skeptical. for some odd reason, they didn't fit the image of a couple. it didn't mean they didn't suit each other, they did by all means look amazing side by side, but he knew. somehow he knew.
maybe it was the way they looked so naĂŻve, how they stood with space still between them, or the nervous energy they put out. either way, he didn't believe them.
âkiss then,â the guy shrugged, causing the âcoupleâ to look at each other confused. she pursed her lips before opening her mouth to say something when he spoke first, âif you're really a couple, just kiss. not that big of a deal.âÂ
it wasn't like they were uncomfortable with what he was asking. oscar was just unsure how she felt about it, meanwhile she didn't care. deep inside, she was nervous because they're just friends, they've never held handsâuntil nowâlet alone kiss.
though once she noticed oscar's hesitancy to make a move, she knew she would have to be the one to do so. she didn't give him time to react, hand around the back on his neck to pull him down to her level and his chapped lips met her glossy ones. his hand ravelled its way into her tied hair, messing up the perfectness she had.
she tasted sweet, the gloss on her lips transferring to his before she pulled away less than a second later. his lips were pinker with the blood rushing to his face.
the guy was smug and satisfied, handing them the bouquet they just kissedâas friendsâfor.
by the time they had walked away, still no words had been exchanged between the pair. their faces still flushed red and their lips left pink and glossy. every glance in the others direction led to them looking the opposite way. they hadn't processed the fact their arms were interlinked now as Oscar held the flowers in his other hand.
he cleared his throat, prompting her looking at him as he held them out to her, âhere.â
her lips parted as she stuttered over what words to say, âare you sure?â
he furrowed his brows, âyeah, why wouldn't i be?â
she nodded, âright, yeah.â she took them from his grasp. she looked at then how oscar looked at her, but maybe it was because oscar had given them to her.
she felt fuzzy, she felt a smile creep into her face as she smelled the flowers. her heart was pounding in her chest. she liked the idea of this fake dating thing, but she didnt imagine the length it would go to in such a short amount of time after she proposed the idea.
maybe she only liked the idea of pretending to be together because it was the closest thing she had to actually being with him.
they remained in silence for the whole walk back to his car, she still clutched the flowers with almost both hands. his hand still laced with hers as she held the bouquet against her body. they only separated as they went to their respective sides of the car, carefully getting in before buckling their seat belts.
the drive was silent, even the volume for the radio hadn't been turned up, only the air conditioning could be heard. it was like that for a while as he drove her back to his house because they'd made the plan to hang out afterwards. he thought it would be rude to change routes and drop her back at her house.
when they arrived, they sat in the car, unmoving in silence.
âdo you want to talk about it?â his voice was uneven, and he wasn't looking at her when he spoke, not until the silence consumed them again did he turn his head.
âi meanâthere's nothing to talk about really,â she shrugged, unsure of what to say as she bit on her lip, âwe were justâpretending, right?â
she turned in her seat to look at him, and he nodded, âright, so just friends.â
âright,â she repeated in confirmation, nodding along as they both looked ahead again.
she hesitated. she realized things had already changed between them, their dynamic had shifted and it wasn't going to be the same. it wasn't going back so if she was going to do any more potential damage, she knew now would be the time.
âbutâi guess i didn't mind it,â she muttered under her breath, causing him to gaze across at her, âthe fake dating, I mean.â
âreally?â he questioned, hand gripping the wheel despite the fact they were stationary.
âi mean, it was fun while it lasted,â she finally met eyes with him, fidgeting with her hands as she pursed her lips, âi enjoyed it.â
âthe fake dating?â
âthe kiss.â
he only nodded, thinking deeply in his head, but on her end, she thought she majorly fucked up whatever they could've salvaged from before. now they couldn't.
truthfully, he just had no words. the kiss had given him a different perspective because now he was longing to kiss her again, to feel and taste the lip gloss on his lips that came from hers.
it was like every feeling he had ever felt for her was pushed to the very forward part of his brain and refused to be put away again.
âi enjoyed it too.â he muttered so quietly, she nearly didn't hear him.
but when she had finally registered the words, a smile cracked her serious face and she looked at oscar, âreally?â her voice was high and so unsure.
he only nodded in confirmation as she melted back into the car seat, smiling giddily as if she hadn't been waiting for this.
âhey,â he spoke softly, still gazing at her with eyes of admiration she only saw now, âi guessâit doesn't have to be pretend.â he shrugged.
âare you saying what i think you're saying, piastri?â she leaned back and watched him roll his eyes, only pulled in by oscar's hand on the back of her neck to make her meet him in the middle above the center console. he felt her lips smile against his which caused him to as well. it was infectious.
he cradled her face in his hand, this second kiss lasted much longer than the first, and it marked the end of their long-lived friendship and short-lived pretend dating, but marked the hopefully long-term relationship that had now sparked between the two.
â
taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @poppyflower-22 @thearchieves @beskardroids @lorenica @hiireadstuff @delululeclerc
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
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hmmm how about james potter and shy readerâs first kiss? đ
Idk how this sat so long in my inbox, thank you for requesting (and for your patience) angel!
James Potter x shy!reader ⥠998 words
You know James has been holding back on your account. Heâs still a thousand times braver than you are, always with a hand cast over your shoulders or resting on your back or clasped around yours and compliments dropping from his lips like theyâre nothing. You find it easier to reciprocate when he makes the first move like that. To lean into his side, tighten your fingers around his, smile and tell him he looks lovely, too.Â
Tonight he seems to be taking things further, and you suspect you know why. Heâs seemed reluctant to let you out of armâs reach all night. Instead of just holding your hand, heâd played with your fingers while youâd sat in the cinema. Heâd pushed your hair out of your face when you turned to talk to him, and a couple of times heâd wiped chocolate from the corner of your mouth that you suspect wasnât really there. Now, as youâre walking home, heâs rubbing a slow, absentminded back-and-forth across the back of your hand with his thumb. It feels like heâs testing the waters.Â
Youâve been dating for a while now. Youâd wondered when it would come.Â
James walks you up your front steps, every smile he beams your way worsening the bone-thuddering beat of your heart. Itâs not necessarily James that scares you. Heâs perfect and lovely and kind, and you want him close so badly itâs humiliating.Â
He squeezes your hand in his, and your nerves misfire, the toe of your shoe catching on the top step. You gasp as you pitch forward, but James is quick. He grabs you around the middle and you save yourself with your other foot.Â
âWhoa,â he laughs. âYou alright, sweetheart?âÂ
âYeah,â you breathe. âSorry, I donât know how that happened.âÂ
âThey are your own front steps,â James points out. Thereâs a knowing in his eyes, in the soft curl of his bottom lip, that makes your cheeks warm and your stomach flutter. âI hate to think of what unfamiliar steps do to you if youâre falling right outside your own home.âÂ
âI know.â You look down, pretending you need to check your shoelaces or brush off your pants or some other ruse he wonât believe, and try not to be so acutely aware of how he hasnât let you go. âItâs humiliating. The neighbors will talk.âÂ
âLet me know if they do. Iâll set them straight.âÂ
You grin up at him, and Jamesâ expression is as warm as his voice. His eyes go molten as they meet yours, a look now familiar and yet newly thrilling every time. It makes your spine feel rubbery.Â
âThanks for coming tonight,â he says, voice gone a bit softer than usual. âI had a really great time.âÂ
âI did, too,â you reply earnestly. âThanks for inviting me.âÂ
âYouâre always invited, sweetheart.â His touch slips from around your middle, taking your hand again. âSee you Friday, then?âÂ
When youâd told James how busy youâd be this week, heâd penciled himself into your schedule for Friday, when the pandemonium will have ceased. He wants to cook you dinner. You think youâll likely deliquesce into a heart-shaped puddle when he does.Â
âSee you then.â You smile, and he smiles back, and then intention solidifies in his gaze.
You hold your breath.Â
âCan I kiss you?â he asks.Â
âPlease.â The word leaves you on a sigh, and then James is stepping closer to you, your fingers tightening on his.Â
The first soft press of his mouth is gentle and chaste. Warm, like the rest of him, like sunlight given form. His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, and you lean into the touch on instinct, slotting your nose alongside his to get him closer. It starts so slow and lovely youâre not sure you can handle anything more, but then James parts his lips and you mirror him reflexively and his sunlight is pouring into you.Â
You let go of his hand to wrap both your arms around his neck, and James smiles against your lips as you press closer to him, his hand gentle on your face as he slows you both down again with sweet, soft kisses to your bottom lip.Â
âEasy,â he says, his own voice slightly hoarse now. It sends shivers down your spine, light as a featherâs touch. âLetâs give the neighbors one headline at a time, yeah? Donât want to overwhelm the presses.âÂ
Youâre lost for words. You let your forehead rest against his, eyes still closed, savoring the warmth emanating from your lips.Â
âSweetheart, you with me?â James tilts his head up so his nose bumps into yours. You feel your lips curve of their own volition. âWas that okay?âÂ
You hum. âYouâre right,â you say, impressed with how normal you manage to sound. âI think we should go inside so theyâre left to wonder.âÂ
That earns you a hearty laugh, James grasping your shoulders when youâre forced away from him by the raucousness of it.Â
âYou said you were tired just a few minutes ago,â he reminds you.Â
âI feel awake now.âÂ
He laughs again, delighted, and your face warms at your own brazenness. James lets his touch slip down your arms to your hands again, taking them in his and squeezing reassuringly.Â
âAs much as Iâd like to,â he says, âyouâve got a big week. I should let you get to bed. Plusââ he gives you a roguish grin ââkeeping you wanting more is how I get you to let me in here on Friday.â
You grin down at your shoes. âThatâs very conniving of you.âÂ
âOh, yeah, Iâm nefarious that way. But one more.âÂ
James tilts your face up with a hand, pressing one quick, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling out of your reach. You know you look as surprised as you feel, because his eyes dance with amusement as he backs down the stairs, his smile poorly repressed.Â
âSee you Friday, sweetheart.âÂ
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Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.
Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.
OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT
Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
Word Count: 2899
Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining
A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:
-----
The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didnât want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBIâs prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter.Â
And you didnât buy into that whole âonce a woman hits thirty, her stock plummetsâ crap. Not usually, anyway.Â
But Nanâs phone calls always left you questioning your existence.Â
Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. Sheâd always wanted to be a mother, and you couldnât imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting oneâs life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan.Â
That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, âOh, Button, youâll find someone eventually, and youâll be just as happy as Kennyâ was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life.Â
You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together.Â
Nan didnât see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasnât in the cards for you, youâd decided. And that was okay.
You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. âWoah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.â He said, halting you just as you entered the BAUâs bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you.Â
âGood morning to you, too, Derek,â You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes.Â
âAnd youâre grumpy this morning⊠why, exactly?â Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk.Â
âBecause Iâm allowed to be?â You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didnât really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop.Â
Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. âWhatâs going on?â she asked.Â
âY/L/Nâs wearing her cranky pants this morning,â Derek filled her in.Â
âOh, those so donât match your blouse, Y/N,â Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. âCut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.â
Derek held up his palms defensively. âAlright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.âÂ
âItâs appreciated,â You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. âBut unnecessary.âÂ
It wasnât until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldnât possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day.Â
Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually.Â
There wasnât anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid.Â
You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencerâs palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did.Â
âDerek says youâre in a bad mood today,â Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.
âDerekâs full of shit,â you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. âIâm extremely happy.âÂ
âI can tell,â Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner.Â
The action made your stomach flutter. Youâd felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didnât want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way.Â
âWhatâd you do this weekend?â Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude.Â
âStayed home, caught up on chores,â You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. âSpoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.âÂ
Spencer nodded understandingly. âSay no more,â he said with a chuckle. âShe gave you the whole âwhen are you going to get marriedâ spiel again?âÂ
You nodded. âUnfortunately. I usually donât let it bother me, but for some reason itâs just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.â You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. âWhat about you?â You asked.Â
âWhat about me?â Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully.Â
âWhatâd you do this weekend?âÂ
âOh,â Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. âI actually went on a date.âÂ
Your stomach flipped. âOh yeah?â You choked out, forcing a smile. âWho with?âÂ
âThat girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldnât stop âogling my boy band hairâ,â Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.
You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. âHow was it?â You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word.Â
Spencer shrugged his shoulders. âIt was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasnâtâŠâ he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his.Â
âIt was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?â You suggested with a small chuckle.
âYeah,â Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. âExactly.âÂ
Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of.Â
You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. âPlans tonight?â He asked.Â
âNot really, no,â You said, shaking your head. âWhy, you want to do something?â You asked.Â
Spencer nodded. âThereâs this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,â he said. âMight be fun. Thereâs this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.âÂ
You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. âItâs actually quite fascinating,â Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. âKind of like a Whereâs Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.â Spencerâs head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot.Â
God, you were down bad.Â
âWas the four thousand and eighth person⊠you?â You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face.Â
âThe photoâs hanging in my living room,â he confirmed.Â
You laughed softly. âWill there be alcohol at this function?â You asked him, and he nodded.Â
That was all you needed to hear.Â
â â â
You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You werenât an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasnât hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killerâs comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible.Â
Plus, your Nanâs words were still lingering in the back of your head. Itâll happen for you someday, Button. Men just donât find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little.Â
You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting.Â
After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasnât that you couldnât hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencerâs and your Nanâs nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual.Â
As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencerâs, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken.Â
âAre you gonna go talk to that guy?â Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. âBecause you can, if you want to. Donât let me stop you.âÂ
It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencerâs jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. âYou donât mind?â You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.
Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. âNot at all. Iâll wait here for you?âÂ
You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasnât any harm in getting a guyâs number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you werenât getting any younger.Â
The manâs eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. âMalcolm Greene,â he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. âYouâre not here with that guy?â He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolmâs, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.Â
âYeah, I am,â you said, and Malcolmâs head inclined to the side. âI am. Iâm here with that guy,â you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you werenât interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. âI just, uhâŠâ Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. âI came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.âÂ
Your eyes followed Malcolmâs down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolmâs mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. âOk, well, have a great night, goodbye!â You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm.Â
Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. âI need another glass of wine,â you confessed.Â
Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece.Â
As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadnât told him completely about. âI still canât believe you didnât get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?â He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice.Â
âListen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!â You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. âGood, clean fun!âÂ
âYou know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. Itâs actually safer to kiss someone,â Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his.Â
You donât know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldnât have ever thought was attractive.Â
But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencerâs hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencerâs, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless.Â
No, that certainly wasnât the safest choice you could have made.
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Would you pls do a Mary earps imagine with them filming TikTokâs together and being otp x
A/n: Not exactly what you asked for but close enough i think.
TikTok is the bane of your very existence.
Itâs the bane of your professional life as a chef because everytime you turn around one of your crew is using prep time to make a concoction and upload it to that godforsaken app.
And in your personal life?
Well, in your personal life, it feels like every time you blink you're being sucked into filming one of those stupid videos with your girlfriend.
The first time it happened, you were barely even sure what was going on.
The two of you had been getting ready to go on a date to a relatively nice restaurant, when she pulled up in front of her phoneâs camera so she could show off what you were wearing.
That had been the beginning of the madness (as well as a very hard launch of your relationship to the public).
It didnât really matter what you were doing, if Mary had decided that a video needed to be filmed, itâd be filmed.
A literal walk in the park. TikTok.
You driving. TikTok.
You tearing a member of the kitchen staff a new one. TikTok. (Although sheâd been asked not so politely by the head chef to never do that again).
You cooking in your shared flat. TikTok.
Hell, she even made a TikTok of you sharpening your knives, a task you find completely mind numbing.
And if having your every move recorded wasnât bad enough, she also had you joining her in filming one of the more popular trends. You mouthing along to the silly sounds that are currently popular on the app. Or worse, dancing, you hate the dancing.
Asking how often you think about the Roman Empire (only as often as you need to).
Throwing herself fully clothed into the shower and singing Taylor Swift while you were trying to brush your teeth.
Making you record a two second clip of everytime you changed clothes while on vacation.
The list is neverending.
Which is why you should be more alarmed when you see her walking into the kitchen with her phone out but youâre too focused on chopping the vegetables youâll be using in your meal prep.
 âBaby,â she says.
âHmm?â
âCan we record a TikTok?â
âCan I keep doing what Iâm doing,â you ask in return, still not looking up from the cutting board.
âYou donât need to do anything but stand there and look pretty,â Mary says as she sets her phone up next to you. âAnd answer questions,â she adds as an afterthought.
You roll your eyes but donât make any additional comments as you see her hit record.
âSo a ton of you have been asking in the comments how my wife manages to be a professional chef when she has so many food allergies,â Mary says, looking directly at the camera. âAnd I figured it was better if I just let her explain it. Babe?â
Admittedly, you hadnât really been listening to every word that she had been saying, only really listening to every word that she had been saying, only really catching the words âallergiesâ and âprofessional chefâ, which is a topic you get asked about a lot. So you just answer without really thinking.
âMy main allergies are seafood, peanuts and treenuts. And since Iâm one of 2 or 3 sous on any given night, I just,â you pause, âwait, what did you just call me?â
You can feel cheeks heating up as your brain finally processes what just happened.
âWhat? Babe?â
Maryâs playing dumb on purpose. She knows it. You know it. And you both know that the other one knows.
âNot that, the other thing.â
âWhat my wife,â she asks.
A cheeky grin breaks out on Maryâs face as she watches even more color rush to your face.
For you, when she repeats it, you suddenly feel like you can barely breathe and you know that your next words come out a little choked (much to Maryâs amusement.)
âYup, that.â
As calmly as you can manage, you put your knife down and take off your apron before walking out of the kitchen.
âWait, where are you going?â
âI have to find my wallet and keys,â you shoot back.
âWhy?â
âI gotta go buy a ring before you change your mind!â
The sound of her laughter is the only thing you hear as you close the door behind you.
The video is up on that cursed app by the end of the week.
A photo of the ring on Maryâs finger goes up just a few hours before.
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what could possibly go wrong?
matt sturniolo x influencer!reader
summary: matt tries to teach his girlfriend how to play fortnite on a twitch stream, request
warnings: lots of fluff, swearing, fortnite?, some suggestive jokes, yapper! reader
âbabe, come sit with me. i just started the stream. people are joining, only for you i thinkâ matt laughed
âof course they are they love me. i keep it real and iâm hilariousâ you replied pulling out the extra chair by mattâs desk and sitting down.
âokay, so hereâs your controller, and iâm gonna put the headset on you so people can hear you talk.â matt gently placed the headset on you and brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes.
matt got up for a second telling you that he was going to the kitchen to get a drink. you jokingly slapped his ass on his way out. you quickly looked between the camera and the chat trying to read what everyone was saying.
âguys, you want to know what i was thinking about today?â you waited to see their responces even though you were most likely going to tell them anyway.
âso i was driving around la today, and itâs getting hot out again, so everyoneâs driving their convertibles. and i drove past like four of them. all i could think about was how easy it would be to steal the car, not that im going to, but how do people feel comfortable leaving their shit open like thatâ
matt walked back in as you continued to rant about convertibles, âi donât know about you but half of my life is in my car. if i had a convertible people could easily just take all of my stuffâ
matt looked at you dumbfounded, âwhat are you on about kid?â you looked up at him with admiration on your face.
âim telling them how i feel about convertibles. look theyâre mad that you interrupted me.â you pointed at the chat. they were all waiting for you to finish your thought. âthis is why we donât like men guys, they just like to interrupt and be the center of attentionâ
matt cut you off before you could go on another tangent. âokay, we all know they love when you come on here, but letâs play fortnite.â
you looked at matt trying to hold yourself back. you looked at the camera and gave them a wink.
âwhatâ
â⊠thatâs what she saidâ
you stood up when you noticed something on the shelf about mattâs desk.
âdude you ass is in my face, and yourâŠboobs⊠are in the cameraâ he said awkwardly as he pulled your arm for you to sit back down. he waited to see what you grabbed.
âdonât act like itâs the first time my ass has been in your face,â you sat down holding up your space camp lipbalm to the camera. âshameless plug. go buy it right now. immediately. instantly.â
you applied the chapstick as matt looked at you with puckered lips. he was expecting you to apply the lipbalm on him but instead you gave matt a kiss with a giggle.
âokay so fortniteâ matt said trying to get you back on track, blushing.
âyes yes letâs do itâ you replied.
âdo you know how to use the controller?â
âyes sir, i think i doâ
matt looked at you with a raised eyebrow in question. you didnât let up though, you were sure you could figure out how to use the controller in secret.
âso you have to start by picking a character.â
âiâm indecisive. can you pick for me?â you said with a smile.
âno babe, you got it just pick one.â matt said with a chuckle. he set his chin in your shoulder to get a better look.
âiâm gonna go bonkers if i have to make decisions this whole time, mattâ
âno thereâs just one i promise. everything else is preloaded from me so you donât have to worry,â he leaned forward to kiss your neck lovingly.
âi love when you make things easy for me. thanks baby.â you said taking your hand off the controller for a second to lace your arm through mattâs.
matt and you had been together for a while now, and with you both having lives on the internet a lot of your relationship was public.
the fans went crazy for anything related to the two of you. they loved you guys together. you had very different personalities, but it seemed to click flawlessly. they always said that opposites attract.
while matt was more reserved, you tended to speak your mind and talk about anything and everything. you were a certified yapper and proud of it, baby. your yapping kept the fans fed on the insides of yours and mattâs relationship. consensually of course.
âokay, so youâre just going to drop in and see what happensâ
âwhat do you mean drop in? im just letting myself fall?â you were very confused on the workings of video games.
âyep, now just make sure you aware of your surroundingsâ
âmaking sure iâm aware of my surroundings, got it. iâm just gonna run over here and see what i can find.â you drowned on.
things went smoothly for a couple minutes. you managed to stay alive and not show that you really didnât know what you were doing with the gaming controller.
all of a sudden you heard distant shots being fired from behind you. not thinking anything of it you kept of running about.
ây/n theyâre shooting at you.â
âoh! wait what? where?â you had no clue what was happening. things were going by so fast.
âturn around and shoot at them.â
âmatt what?â he was trying to point to where they were on your screen. âdude i donât even know how to shootâ
âwhat! i thought you said you knew how to use the controllerâ
âyeah well i liedâ you said panicked.
âthese teenage boys are probably laughing at me and thatâs a scary thought. teenage boys are scary.â you whined.
you kept pressing random buttons trying to figure out how to fire back, but it was no use. you rushed and threw the controller in mattâs hands so he could take over.
he some how managed to get the kill and your player only ended up injured.
by this point you had given up on the attempts to play fortnite.
you let matt fully take over now. as he played a few more rounds you began to converse with the chat. answering questions and just rambling about some interesting topics.
ây/n whatâs going on in your head right in this moment?â you read from the chat. âum, i was thinking about how i was vlogging earlier and there was a spider in my room. i simply couldnât believe it. i trapped it, but i made matt come get it out of my houseâ
âthatâs very true. i had to drive over there for moral support.â
âmy knight in shining armor.â you smiled, looking up at him. âmy handsome princeâ
matt blushed from your comment as he finished the game he was in while you continued taking to the viewers. you guys decided to wrap things up 5 minutes later.
âhow are you feeling now that you know kinda how to play?â matt questioned.
âi feel like iâd rather sit next to you and talk to the chat while you play then actually play myself. i think iâm more content watching you play, but it was a good experience. thank you for teaching me, babyâ you kissed matt on the cheek as he began to end the stream.
âiâm gonna be honest, i was stressed for you.â matt stated.
âi was to anxious. i didnât like having to be in high alert 24/7â
âalrighty, bye guys thanks for hanging out with usâ
you blew a kiss to the camera as the filming came to an end.
âcan we go to bed now,â you questioned matt as you stretched and got out of your chair.
âyeah of course we canâ matt replied pulling you over to his mattress with him.
an: i hope you enjoy this. tbh i know nothing about fortnite so i hope this made sense and met your expectations đ€đ€
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Ice Cream - Part Three
Series Title : Younger Sister
Summary : Ollie takes you around the paddock for ice cream
Pairing/s : Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader, Lando Norris x sister!reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Oliver Bearman Masterlist
Lando Norris Masterlist
Previous
Lando was away doing whatever practice he had been told to do, and Ollie waved to you as he stopped outside the Mclaren garage. Grabbing your phone, you jogged out of the garage, hugging Ollie as you met him.
âHey, ready for that ice cream?â He asked, and you noddedÂ
âYeah! Letâs go get someâ You smiled walking through the paddock. Ollie had found a little ice cream stand so that you didnât have to go too far or leave the paddock, which helped ease your nerves a little.Â
âWhat flavour do you want?â Ollie asked as you stood in the queue. Standing on your toes to see the signs moving from side to side a little before Ollie rested his hands on your shoulders to move to to see the board.Â
âThe tablet sounds quite niceâ You smiled, and he nodded
âOr maybe the Jammy Dodgerâ You addedÂ
âI think Iâm gonna try the Chocolate fudge brownieâ He smiled, ordering, turning you to get your order
âWhat are you wanting to try?â He askedÂ
âHmm can I try the jammy dodgerâ You smiled, and he got his card out to pay for the cones.
âIâll pay for mineâ you told him, and he shook his head, paying for the cones before you could even think about beating him to it
âMy treat. You can pay next timeâ He handed you the cone as you started walking with him. Â
âLando dragging you out again?â He asked, and you shook your headÂ
âHeâs doing some sim work tonight, so no. He doesnât like to go out the night before qualifying he worries too muchâ You chuckled, and Ollie smiledÂ
âYou going to watch the F2 race?â He asked, and you smiledÂ
âI donât know. I have to be able to sneak away from my brothers prying eyes, but maybe if thereâs someone wanting me to watchâ You hummedÂ
âWhat if I asked you to come watch?â He asked, and you looked at himÂ
âWell I couldnât exactly say no to that, could I?â You smiledÂ
âThen will you come watch my race?â He asked, and you smiled, stopping yourself from walking any furtherÂ
âIâd love to come watch your race Ollieâ You smiledÂ
âCome on Iâll take you to my garageâ He led you through the F1 paddock and into the F2 paddock. Ollie talked you through who raced in each garage and if he was close with them and all the little bits of information that youâd never need in your life.Â
It was nice to see Ollie in his element talking about racing itâs the same look Lando gets when heâs talking about it, the same look Flo gets when sheâs talking about showjumping and probably the same look you get when you start talking about something you love just as much.Â
You couldnât help but smile at Ollie as he stood in the Prema garage talking you through how everything was different to the F1 garages you didnât mean to be staring at him but you just couldnât help it. He was just great to watch.Â
âWhat? Is there something on my face?â He asked, catching you staring at him. You couldnât help but blush, looking down at the groundÂ
âYouâre cute when you get all excited about thingsâ you hummed, looking back up at him. It was now Ollies turn to blush as he wrapped his arm around your shouldersÂ
âLetâs head back to the F1 paddock. Lando and Oscar will be back soon, and Iâm due back in Ferrari for some testingâ He smiled, and you nodded while walking back to the paddock with him.Â
âWhen did you finish school then?â He asked to make small talk as you walked. Obviously, you started off by dming and then texting, but small talk conversations like these never really came up.Â
âCouple weeks ago technically, but I finished my exams like three days ago, which is why this is my first race of the seasonâ you explained, and he noddedÂ
âWell I dropped out, obviously. I think most drivers dropped outâ He chuckled, and you smiled with a nodÂ
âYeah, Lando wasnât exactly helpful if I was ever struggling with schoolâ Ollie laughed at that as you stopped outside the Mclaren garageÂ
âSo Iâll see you tomorrow then?â He smiled, and you noddedÂ
âIâll probably be here. For Quali definitely, maybe not FP3â you explained, and he nodded, giving you a hug before walking away to the Ferrari garage. You walked inside the Mclaren garage and through to Landoâs drivers room.Â
Sitting on his massage table and stretching while playing your music, waiting for Lando to come back. Landoâs drivers room was really boring, nothing there to personalise it but that was his own choice and there was nothing you could do about it. Jon walked into Landoâs drivers room as you were stretching out your back
âOh hey, Y/N. I was just looking for Landoâs jacket. Typical English weather itâs started rainingâ He smiled, and you noddedÂ
âAnd he gets moody if heâs coldâ you added, and he laughed with a nodÂ
âThatâs very true. Do you know where heâs put it?â He asked, and you shook your headÂ
âHis bag is in that corner, so if heâs brought it, then itâll be in thereâ You pointed to his bag, which was next to the beanbag.Â
âThanksâ He nodded, walking over to his bag
âYou okay?â He asked, checking Landoâs bagÂ
âYeah. I've just been standing most of the day so my back and ankles are starting to hurt a littleâ you explained, and he nodded a littleÂ
âAre you sure? Lando overshares a little too much with me. Says you only get back pain when something is wrongâ You chuckled a little with a nodÂ
âYeah, Iâm fine. Some things just donât need to be shared with older brothers more than the basic detailsâ He nodded slightlyÂ
âWell if you need anything medical or anything like that, just give me a shout, and Iâll see what I can do to helpâ He smiledÂ
âDo you have any heat padsâ You asked, and he noddedÂ
âYeah, do you want one?â He questionedÂ
âNo, not just now. I just wanted to ask in case I need one this weekendâ You smiled, and he noddedÂ
âOkay. Iâm gonna go get ready for Lando getting out of the carâ You nodded, moving to Landoâs beanbag and curling up on it while watching TikToks. It felt nice being able to curl up on the beanbag the cramps not only in your stomach but also in your bag, so being comfortable helped the most.Â
It felt like years before Lando finally walked through the door and into his drivers room to finally leave for the day. He just needed to get changed out of his race suit and fireproofs before you could leave the paddock.Â
âYou okay Y/N you look in pain?â He frowned, crouching down next to you.
âIâm fine, Lando. Iâm just waiting for you so that I can go back to the hotel and have a nap. Iâm not used to these long days yetâ Lando smiled with a nod.
âLet me just quickly get changed, then we can get you back to the hotel roomâ You smiled as he handed you the blanket that he kept in the cupboard. Wrapping it around yourself to keep yourself warm.Â
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (8/?)
Part summary: Leigh heads off to Palm Springs with Danny, while you grapple with what to do about your feelings for her.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 5.000+ | Warnings : Slight angst | Author's Note: No, I did not forget about Danny still not being honest with Leigh and R not tattling on Danny. Just let these loose ends dangle for a while. Anyway, enjoy! :)
Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII
-
The morning after you gave Leigh a puppy for her birthday, your phone is flooded with texts from her, filled with questions ranging from vaccine schedules to the best chew toys. She shares a story about how Rogue, their previous dog, had always been Mattâs, and how she often felt left out of his care. Now, with Logan, she feels a full sense of ownership and is eager to get everything right.
You still flinch slightly whenever she mentions her late husband. Itâs as if she forgets that you and Matt had something significant too, as if you weren't once the secret he kept close. Sometimes, you wish you could just erase his presence, simplify everything about your relationship with Leigh.Â
But you recognize that itâs selfish to wish him away, because Matt was a significant part of Leighâs life, a major influence on who she has become. And who she is today is a lovely personâsomeone you've come to admire very deeply.
[6:20 AM] Leigh: Loganâs an angel, slept through the night.
[6:35 AM] Leigh: So, house training... how do I make sure Logan doesnât turn my bed into his personal bathroom like he did five seconds ago?
You grimace at the message, picturing the hassle of laundering the sheets and possibly needing to call a cleaning service for the mattress.
[6:54 AM] Leigh: And shots? Rogue was all up to date because Matt was on it, but Iâm clueless. Where do I start?
As you work your espresso machine, a grin spreads across your face, the kind that makes you feel like a complete fool but in the best possible way.
[6:56 AM] You: Good morning! Youâre lucky I donât bill for text consultations đ
You typically charge $18 for a twenty-minute chat with a client.
[6:58 AM] Leigh: Oh. How much do I owe you? I want to pay.
Your smile falters a little at her missing your joke.
[6:58 AM] You: I was just kidding. Your texts are more than welcome, Leigh.
Feeling bold, you follow that up with something you've been wanting to make clear since last night.
[6:59 AM] You: This is what friends are for, right?
Waiting for Leighâs reply feels like an eternity, and you're about to send another text to walk back your hint at friendship when your phone vibrates.
[7:00 AM] Leigh: Iâd feel better paying. Can I drop by the clinic later?
Reading her message, you're hit with a rushâexcited at the thought of seeing her, yet downhearted she's talking about paying, as if that's what's between you. But then, those little typing dots appear. You're practically holding your breath.
[7:00 AM] Leigh: Weâre friends, which is why Iâm paying.
It's a good thing you don't have a roommate, or else you'd never get away with grinning like an idiot at your phone. It's a bit ridiculous, you think, how high school this all feelsâwaiting for a glimpse, a moment, anything.
[7:01 AM] You: Absolutely, come by anytime. Looking forward to it đ
You hit send and lean back, trying to act like you didn't just have a mini celebration over a text.Â
And then, spurred by Leigh texting you first thing in the morning, you decide to add her on your social media accounts. You spend an extra fifteen minutes getting ready that morning, simply because you lingered longer in the shower, listening to songs that remind you of Leigh and how this crush is dangerously close to becoming something uncontainable.
-
[10:13 AM] Notification: Leigh accepted your friend request.
-
As it turns out, Leigh is a serial texter.Â
Itâs odd, really. For someone who might come across as reclusive and somewhat untouchable, she is surprisingly talkative over text. The messages start coming in more frequently after this morning's exchange, just moments after you've finally left home to drive to your clinic. What's even more interesting is that this time, they're not about Logan.
And theyâre all unusually random and unrelated to one another: memes that make you laugh out loud, articles on topics ranging from the philosophical implications of artificial intelligence to the best way to juicing recipes. You find yourself waiting for these messages, eager to see what tangent Leigh's mind has wandered off to now. You get into it, dissecting the articles she sends over with the seriousness of a scholar. You type back your thoughts, trying to sound as insightful as possible, maybe even a bit witty, hoping to impress her. You imagine this might be her way of initiating deeper, intellectual conversations between you two.
So, when you send back a paragraph or two analyzing the latest article she's shared, maybe touching on its impacts on modern society or offering a counterpoint to the author's thesis, Leigh's responses arenât what you expect. Instead of engaging with the discussion, she sends a simple thumbs-up emoji or, even more baffling, a random factoid about her day, like her opinion on the Kani salad from a sushi bar near the Beautiful Beast gym.
[12:15 PM] Leigh: [sent a photo] Just some store-bought crab sticks and diluted mayo. Donât try it. Their sakĂ© though is đđđ
You wonder why sheâs having Japanese rice wine this early in the day.
[12:22 PM] You: Thanks for the heads up. I know a place for authentic Japanese food. You want to check it out with me some time?
Your text remains unseen for the rest of the afternoon.
-
You find yourself staring intently at the wall clock in your clinic, keenly aware of each minute slipping by, and with it, the dwindling chance of Leigh arriving before the doors lock for the day. As it nears 8 in the evening, Suzie is already wrapped up in her end-of-day tasks across the lobby. Leaning your cheek on your palm, you watch blankly as she meticulously arranges her desk, perfectly aligning each item, then moves on to gently pull the blinds closed on each window.
Suzieâs not blind. She throws you these knowing glances every time you let out one of your heavy sighs. Finally, after you've probably sighed loud enough to be heard next door, she stops what she's doing and plants herself in front of you.
âWhatâs going on?â she asks.
You try to look puzzled. âNothing. Why?â
Suzie rolls her eyes. âPlease, youâve been mooning over that clock and sighing like youâre carrying the world on your shoulders. Whatâs up?â
You crack a smile, partly at her description, partly from being caught moping like a lovesick teenager. âItâs just⊠I thought maybe Leigh would come by. She said she would,â you say, wincing at yourself when the last part comes out a bit whiny.Â
Without missing a beat, Suzie pivots from her closing duties and makes her way over to you.Â
Sheâs not delicate with you this time. âYouâre doing that thing again. Waiting around for something thatâs probably not gonna happen. Itâs not doing you any good.â
You know she's hitting the nail on the head, but it's tough to swallow.
Suzie continues, âYou're young, you're attractive, and it's honestly weird that you're pining over your ex's ex. At first, I thought it was kind of adorable, in a bizarre, romantic-comedy kind of way. But now, it's like you're always hung up and disappointed.â
âThanks for saying Iâm young when Iâm five years older than you,â you say with a sheepish smile, hiding your disappointment that she isnât saying the things you want to hear, such as the possibility that Leigh just got busy.
Suzie shakes her head in disapproval. She's fed up, and her next words aren't going to be sugar-coated. âSnap out of it!â she barks, the command hitting you like a cold splash of water, and you jerk back in your chair, wide-eyed. Seeing you shrink back, quivering, she softens a bit and shifts back to the harmless receptionist youâre used to.
âLook at me, Y/N,â Suzie says, ensuring she has your full attention. You manage to meet her gaze, even though your eyelids feel heavy. âIt's not fair to Leigh, either. You're giving meaning to everything she doesâor doesn't do. It's putting her in an impossible situation. And honestly, it's not fair to you. You're missing out on your own life, waiting for someone who... well, who might never show up the way you want her to.â
Suzie knows sheâs being tough, but sometimes love means being the friend who wonât let you settle for anything less than you deserve.
âI hear you, okay? Itâs just⊠itâs the way Iâm wired. I latch onto a person like a leech, refusing to let go until I see it through,â you mutter, shielding your face with your hands, a bit ashamed to even say it out loud. You get so tunnel-visioned, missing out on maybe better things and experiences because you're stuck on one track. You fall hard for your choices, never by chance.
âGood. You know whatâs wrong with you,â Suzie says softly.Â
You let out a weak chuckle, the sound tinged with a bit of self-mockery. You're half-hidden behind your hands, peeking out at Suzie as if she's got all the answers. Suzie pries your fingers away from your face and then pinches your cheek so hard, you start to whine a bit.
âOw! What was that for?â you protest, rubbing your assaulted cheek.
âThat's for being a pathetic little bitch.â
âExcuse me, I'm still the one signing your paychecks,â you shoot back, trying to sound offended but itâs hard to keep a straight face.
âSure thing, boss,â she laughs, and you join in.Â
âOkay, so what do you suggest I do then?â you ask as the last of your chuckles die down.
âGo on a date,â comes her swift response. âAll that stuff they say about love finding you when you're not looking? Biggest lie ever.â
You look at her curiously, assessing her physical features. âW-With you?â
âDude, no! Not with me!â Suzie exclaims, laughing nervously. âI mean, sure, I'd take you out if you weren't my boss, but I don't see that happening anytime soon unless you fire me.â
âGot it, got it,â you say, still chuckling. Suzie realizes too late that you were just teasing her and huffs. âNot with you. But seriously, go on a date? Just like that?â
âYeah. Just meet someone.â
âYou make it sound like itâs easy.â
âBecause it is,â she says with a shrug. âHere. Give me your phone.â
-
Leigh doesnât know what to do with the fact that you may or may not have feelings for her.Â
So, she does what she does best: Pretend.
Leigh pretends youâre not EspressoEyes. In her mind, it could just be a coincidence, and you might not be the person who wrote to her advice column. Without any concrete evidence, she holds onto this notion, using it as a shield to fend off the uncertainties and doubts that would follow if she believed otherwise.
Leigh pretends because she needs your help to figure out how to care for Logan. Because maybe she wants to be friends. When you join her for a run, you donât press for conversation, a rare companion who's not afraid of silence. Having you around feels like having Matt around, in a way that she's reminded of him when you talk about the same things you like, the same books you've read, and the same music you listen to.Â
Leigh pretends it doesnât bother her in case you are EspressoEyes. Sheâs no stranger to turning heads as she walks down the street, accustomed to the attention. There's a certain power in being desired, and Leigh revels in it. But the idea of you liking her doesn't quite make sense to her; it's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. Itâs not because youâre a womanâsheâs been with women before. What Leigh can't wrap her head around is that you, of all people, could actually be into her. After all, she hasnât exactly been her most charming self since you two met. Even her best friend is keeping a cautious distance. Sheâs been wearing down the people closest to her, those who are supposed to like her the most.
And this bewilderment doesn't sit well with Leigh. She is someone who thrives on understanding, on knowing where she stands with people and why. So, when pretending isnât enough, she does what she does second-best: Avoid.
She must have been waiting in her car outside your clinic for the better part of the evening, debating with herself about what to do next. She's parked just out of view, positioned so she can see the clinic entrance without being too conspicuous. She hasn't eaten dinner yet, her stomach growling, but she remains glued to her spot across from where she knows you're waiting for her.
Ever since you subtly asked her out through text, sheâs been on edge, second-guessing her actions (texting and sharing posts on the internet with you all morning, what was she thinking?) and wondering what they might have meant to you. Leigh didnât mean to leave you hangingâshe did come to your clinic, sort of. She remembers typing out a response to you, something witty and non-committal, but her finger hovered over the âsendâ button before pulling back. It felt like too much, too soon. She needed time to think, to figure out why the idea of checking out authentic Japanese food with you left her feeling so conflicted inside.
Leigh's guilt gnaws at her as she sits there, wrestling with how to extricate herself without causing further confusionâor worse, hurt. Eventually, it all comes to a head. She finally gives in, typing out a message to you on her phone with a shaky urgency.
[7:53 PM] Leigh: I'm so sorry, something came up. I can't make it to the clinic after all.
Your reply comes quickly, much to her astonishment, especially since she hadn't opened your message all afternoon.
[7:54 PM] You: It's fine, don't worry about it. I can have Logan's supplies delivered to your place if that works better for you.
Reading your text, Leigh bites her lip, another surge of guilt washing over her. Your kindness, your willingness to accommodate her, only complicates this predicament further.
[7:54 PM] Leigh: Yes, that would be great, thank you.
[7:54 PM] Leigh: How much do I owe you?
As she starts nibbling at her cuticle, Leigh is eager to resolve at least the financial aspect of her obligation. Though she knows she owes you so much more than just Loganâs supplies.
[7:56 PM] You: Like I said, it's on the house. But just this time âșïž
Itâs still too generous. But Leigh knows better than to argue further, concerned that insisting might hurt your feelings.
[7:56 PM] Leigh: Thank you. I wonât forget this.
[7:57 PM] You: đđđ
Leigh sighs, remembering her promise that you could visit Logan anytime. She hopes you wonât take her up on that offer too soon, at least not until she has a chance to sort herself out.
-
Danny isnât too bad once you get to know him. That's what Leigh learns after more than two months of dating him.Â
Initially, Leigh wasn't sure what to make of Danny. Their shared wit and sarcasm often put them at odds, like two alphas vying for the upper hand, each one not willing to back down, always aiming for the last word. Yet, in their calmer moments, when the competitive edge fades and they're just enjoying each other's company, Leigh finds something unexpectedly comforting about being with him. He has this confidence about himself that Matt never had, knowing exactly what he wantsâand that's her. His straightforward approach makes everything about being with him feel predictable. And lately, she's starting to see predictability as a good thing, a sign of stability. This is a welcome change from the uncertainty that often left her anxious about the future. Plus, all these traits spill over into the bedroom, making the sex between them feel effortless and satisfying in a way sheâs never experienced before.
Despite all this, there are days when Leigh finds herself merely tolerating Danny's affections. A part of her remains tightly locked, still bruised from losing Matt, and she's not sure if those doors shouldâor even canâopen again. To compensate, she often says yes when she can, whenever her mood permits her to be giving and amenable.
And it is exactly why she says yes when Danny asks her to go to Palm Springs with him this weekend.Â
-
The getaway feels like an extended lazy morning where the concept of time blurs into insignificance. They drift from one hotel restaurant to another, luxuriating in the art of doing absolutely nothing. This routine isn't new to them; itâs the same one they slip into whether theyâre at Dannyâs apartment or Leighâs placeâonly now, the scenery is different, and the sheets they tangle in are expensively soft, boasting a thread count far beyond anything either of them owns at home.Â
They're lounging by the pool, sipping MargaritasâLeigh with a book in hand and Danny absorbed in his phoneâwhen your name comes up in conversation.
âSo, how are things between you and Y/N?â Danny asks, not looking up from his phone.
Leigh stiffens slightly. She carefully moderates her tone, her face schooled into an expression of indifference as she marks her page and looks over at him. âWhat about me and Y/N?â
âI don't know... are you guys friends now?â
If Leigh werenât so preoccupied with her own personal concerns about you, she might have recognized the underlying worry his question poses. What he's actually trying to figure out is whether you've come clean to Leigh about his role in Mattâs secret affair with you.
âYeah, I guess we are,â she says. To say otherwise would be a lie, because youâve been nothing but good to her. Danny seems satisfied with this answer, nodding before returning his attention to his phone.
âWhy do you ask?â
âJust wondering,â he mumbles. He's back to mindless scrolling, but Leigh can sense the tension from two feet away.Â
âNo, tell me,â Leigh insists, placing her book on the side table between them with a definitive thud. Danny mirrors her actions, setting his phone face down and turning to her with a seriousness that clashes with their otherwise relaxed afternoon.
âI just don't get why you'd be friends with Matt's mistress,â he blurts out suddenly.Â
Leigh is taken aback. They've never fully discussed what transpired between you and Matt, so she hadn't realized he was paying such close attention to her interactions with you. Believing that he wasn't privy to all the details, she quickly jumps to your defense.
âY/N didnât even know Matt was married to me,â she explains, trying to clarify the misunderstanding and protect your integrity.
âYeah? And you just took her word for it?â Danny doesnât bother to hide his skepticism, and it irks Leigh more than usual. She doesn't understand why every conversation with Danny has to turn into a challenge or an argument.
âThereâs no evidence to suggest otherwise,â Leigh replies, her voice tightening as she struggles to keep her frustration in check. âI mean, I even went through your phone to see what Matt had been saying to you, and there was nothing there indicating that Y/N knew he was married.â
Danny feels a lump form in his throat. Fortunately for him, Matt hadn't mentioned anything in their texts about Danny being Nick either. He has been debating whether to disclose his role in everything to Leigh. But things between them have gotten serious, and Danny's not so sure he should come clean. Part of him wants to delayâperhaps until they are married with kids, when he's more certain that Leigh won't leave him over a past mistake.
âLook, I'm not saying donât trust her, but... she used to be in love with Matt, right? You don't think there's a chance she resents you even a little?âÂ
Leigh stops for a second, Danny's words prompting her to consider aspects she hadn't really thought about before. Wrapped up in her own insecurities, jealousy, and pain when she discovered the truth about you, she had never stopped to consider your perspectiveâhow you might have felt learning that the man you had feelings for was married. Did you feel just as fooled and stung as she did? The thought bounces around her head for a moment. From what she can recall, nothing in your behavior has ever suggested that you're a bitter ex. But then, what if you're just exceptionally good at masking your feelings?
Do you really like her, or is it all an actâa scheme?
But then, she remembers the night you gave her Logan, how your smile was nothing but warm, your eyes bright with something that, looking back, Leigh realizes might have been admiration. Not even Danny looks at her like that, whose gaze is always bridling yearning and a desire to possess. Leigh shakes her head, almost laughing at the thought of Danny being right about you.
âDanny, honestly,â Leigh finally says, trying to put an end to the discussion, âif what you're saying is true, I can handle it myself.â It seems the quickest way to close this topic, knowing that debating it could easily consume their entire afternoon and completely derail the purpose of their vacation.
âBut doesn't it hurt, having her around? Like a reminder that Matt went for someone else?â He's playing on a different fear now, not questioning your integrity, but poking at the scars Leigh's tried so hard to heal.Â
Leigh wants to admit the pain never went away. Sheâs merely learned to co-exist with it. It's like the weather for her: on some days, her mind is a landscape of clear skies, but when the storm hits, it's relentless. For now, she chooses to keep this pain private, unwilling to give anyone the leverage to use it against her or even attempt to fix her. It's her burden to bear, and hers alone.
âNo,â Leigh answers, reaching for her book again. âI donât see it that way anymore.â
-Â
Leigh ends her nearly year-long social media hiatus by posting a series of photos from her Palm Springs vacation with Danny. Sharing such personal moments publicly is uncharacteristic for her, especially given her minimal online presence over the past months. Maybe it felt like sending a message to everyone that sheâs doing okay. That they can go back to seeing her as just Leigh againâa single, actively dating woman in her early thirtiesânot as the young widow she was in her late twenties.
Danny's friends are the first to swarm the comments. They tag Danny, peppering the feed with teasing remarks, their comments ranging from jokes about the desert heat to compliments on the couple's sun-drenched physique. It's all typical, light-hearted friend banter, until one comment sharply disrupts the mood:Â
âYo, isn't that your brother's wife?â
Leigh deletes the comment within seconds of seeing it.
A few hours later, you âlikeâ her post. Leigh's eyes fix unblinkingly on the notification. She's been idly wondering if you'd seen the post, and now, youâve confirmed it yourself. But what does that âlikeâ mean?
Is it a nod of approval, a silent indication that you're happy for her? Regardless of what it means, Leigh discovers she was sending another messageâone thatâs exclusively for you. It tells you that whether you're EspressoEyes, whether you harbor any feelings for her or not, it no longer matters.
She's with Danny now.
-
Returning from Palm Springs, Leigh feels differentâlike sheâs turned a corner or something. She feels refreshed, and she wants to take on something, such as Drewâs grievances about her advice column. She picks one to start with, something about anniversary ideas, and she's got the perfect story for this.
It was one of those anniversaries with Matt, the kind that stands out from the rest of his surprises because it's so quintessentially himâalbeit a little nerdy. He took her away from the city's glare to a secluded spot where the sky was a blanket of stars, untainted by artificial light. After laying out a rug for them to both settle on, he began the painstaking process of setting up a rather complex telescope. It took him nearly an hour, but the wait just made the moment even more special. With the telescope finally ready, Matt pulled out this old, crinkly constellation map and started hunting for one specific star. It was one of the last times Leigh remembered them being truly happyâdeeply in love, free from the shadows of Mattâs depression, Leighâs instinct to fix things, and the small lies that slowly eroded their relationship.
When he finally located it, he excitedly guided her to peer through the telescope. There it isâa tiny speck of light, but it's theirs. Matt turned to her with a bashful smile and revealed that he had 'bought' that star for her.
Leigh shares this story with her reader, emphasizing that it's about understanding what truly moves your partner. For her, it was that starâsimple, unexpected, and insanely romantic. She tells her reader to find that one-of-a-kind thing, that personal touch that says âI love youâ in a way that can only come from them. Just like Matt did with a star and a starry night.
It's only after she closes her laptop that Leigh realizes tears have been streaming down her face.
-
âWeâve got to stop meeting like this.â
It takes a moment to recognize who you've just bumped into. This encounter isn't as jarring as the last; itâs merely a brush of shoulders as you both maneuver to avoid incoming traffic. That âincoming trafficâ turns out to be none other than Leigh Shaw.
She's beaming up at you, and it looks genuine despite the sparse interactions since she last canceled on you. Youâre still catching your breath, your heart racing from the speed of your run and something else entirely.
âAt least I didnât make you crash on the pavement this time. I'd say thatâs significant progress,â you quip, drawing a soft laugh from Leigh. Last week, you made the firm decision to compartmentalize your feelings for Leigh, resolving to see her strictly as a friend. Yet, when faced with reality, such resolutions seem trivial, particularly when that reality includes Leigh smiling at you with her effortlessly charming grinâa smile that, despite your best efforts, still sends a familiar flutter through your stomach and makes your knees feel like they're made of something much less solid than bone.
âSpeaking of progress, Loganâs due for his vaccines this week, right?â You remember the schedule clearly, not just because youâre good with dates, but because Logan has become somewhat of a shared responsibility between the two of youâor at least thatâs how you still see it.
âOh, right. I promise I'll swing by. No bailing this time,â she says, chuckling, but thereâs a serious undertone that tells you sheâs committed to making good on her word this time.
âYou better not,â you tease, âCanât have Logan missing his shots. Heâs still very young, and itâs critical we build up his protection againstââ
âI wonât, Doctor,â Leigh cuts in, giving you a playful salute that makes you blush. âSo, where are you off to after this? I was actually about to grab some donuts for breakfastââ
Leigh pauses mid-sentence as a woman appears at your side. Sheâs stunningâslightly taller than Leigh, clad in a sports bra and tight yoga pants, with sneakers on her feet. An absolute goddess; even Leigh canât resist a quick, appreciative glance.
âWho's this?â the woman asks with a British accent, adding the perfect touch to her 5-foot-7 frame.
âThis is Leigh,â you introduce quickly, noting the surprise in Leigh's expression. âLeigh, this is Sara.â
âLovely to meet you,â Sara says warmly, extending her hand. Leigh shakes it, though her movements are somewhat mechanical. âIâve heard a lot about you.â
âOh?â Leighâs smile is strained. âNice to meet you, too.â
You quickly steer the topic back to Leigh's breakfast plan, asking where the donut place is. âIt's just down that street,â Leigh points vaguely, but then stops short. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, âActually, I just remembered I've got to pick up something from the laundromat.â
You frown, thrown by her sudden change of tune. âAre you sure? We could grab a bite after the run.â
âNo, really, I should get going. Maybe next time!â Leigh replies hastily, already stepping back, her exit swift and decisive. As she hurries away, you're left there, watching her leave, trying to figure out what flipped her mood from happy to wanting to escape so quickly.
âShall we?â Sara nudges you gently, already jogging in place.Â
You give Sara a nod, but as you start running, you can't help but sneak one last look back. Leigh is quick to put distance between herself and the park. With a sigh, you turn your full attention back to Sara, whoâs already picking up the pace, chatting about a new trail she wants to try next weekend.
âLet's go,â you mutter, mostly to yourself, as you push your legs to match her pace.
Meanwhile, Leigh walks briskly to a different restaurant, forsaking her initial craving for donuts. She canât quite explain why she fabricated an errand; all she knows is that she needed to get away from you and Sara. Earlier, she couldn't help but notice how close Sara was standing to you, assessing you with a look that seemed a bit too interested. Leigh keeps turning over Sara's words in her mind, puzzling over what she meant by saying she'd heard a lot about her from you.
Why were you talking about her with Sara? Who exactly is Sara to you? Just a friend, or something more?
And what Leigh finds even more perplexing is why she's so troubled by needing to know the answers.
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The Fox and The Fawn
High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel
Part Three
Summary - After Azriel and Nesta return from their mission you find them being as watchful as ever, and it turns out that celebrations werenât always destined to be joyous.
Warnings - angst, fluff, flirting, slight suggestive tones
Part One Part Two
Sunlight curled around your forearm, tugging you and willing you to step outside and bask in her glory.
Ignoring her, you again focused on the matter that held your attention.
âSay it with me, Nyx,â your hands were delicately placed under his arms, holding him in place on your lap. Nyx looked at you with wide eyes and blushed chubby cheeks, dark hair weeping from sleep, his little wings flapping behind him and small digits reaching to furl into your hair, âAuntie y/n is the most powerful.â
Nyx babbled incoherently and you shrugged, cuddling him into your chest and inhaling that smell that made your heart clench with want. It was so fresh, a perfect amalgamation of Rhys and Feyre but also something utterly pure and unique to him, âClose enough, I suppose.â
A certain type of ferocity had consumed you the moment Nyx had been born, there was no one that could guard him better than you. Perhaps that was why Rhys rarely cared when you would pick up the child and whisk him away in on one of your adventures, that being youâd walk him around the city and take him for ice cream all whilst trying (and failing) to ensure that the first thing to fall from his lips would be your name.
Sunlight speckled through the stained glass panes of the library, it was sometime around noon, and you had swooped Nyx from his cot that morning before Feyre or Rhys could realise it. No one would dare to meddle with your time with your nephew.
Three days had passed since Azriel had left you with nothing but a whisper of a kiss on your brow, it had been three days of silence, three days of Rhys acting as your shadow and you letting him believe that you didn't notice his intense gaze settled upon you whenever you entered the room. The Circle had been suspicious, whispering in corners and sparing you the odd sidelong glance before resuming their hushed bickering, even Feyre, who you believed wouldn't be one of those people, was also taking part.
It seemed as though Lucien was your only friend, he actively sought you out, he had noticed your reluctance and need to hide yourself away so distracted your mind by asking about Eris, about what you spoke of. Of course Lucien knew you wouldn't divulge any details, but seeing your eyes sparkle and a soft smile form on your lips was enough to make him believe that you at least had one good thing occupying your mind these days.
A sonnet of brisk air alerted you to another presence slipping through the library doors, Nyx perked up in your arms, and you knew instantly from that and the scent of night-kissed air that Rhys was stood somewhere behind you. Your nerves stood on end as he rounded where you both sat, casting his shadow over your forms, "You stole him again," Rhys' voice was cold and distant, but he cocked his head to the side and grinned at his son, placing his finger in Nyx's hand and shaking it gently.
"Is it so terrible of me to want to spend some time with my nephew?" Rhys hummed and reached for the child, you went to shield him from your brother but relented when Rhys' gaze set alight in warning and gave in, relaxing your grip and feeling that pained void when the wriggling child was snatched from you.
Rhys settled Nyx into his chest, resting his chin atop the crown of his head and looked down on you with his usual wariness, "We have been invited to the Day Court this evening. Helion has requested your presence."
Narrowing your eyes at him, you surveyed his face for any signs of deception, "What's the occasion?" Rhys turned his back to you, sweeping Nyx from your sight, muttering something about a birthday.
It was too odd. First Azriel and Nesta being sent away, the entire family being odd and secretive, then being beckoned to the Day Court? Something wasn't right, and you certainly did not want to spend your evening watching Helion beg Azriel and Cassian for some kind of soul-enlightening orgy.
Once Rhys had stepped out of the room, you threw up your shield and floated toward the desk, once again ignoring the sun beckoning you outside and finding an odd scrap of parchment to scribe upon, scratching your message out and letting it devour itself into ash and float away.
I need your opinion on something.
A minute passed and you spied an autumn-scented piece of cream tinged paper wedged beneath an old leather bound book.
Is that all you need from me?
Smirking, you replied with a matching amount of seductiveness. That was how your conversations had been going, light and always full of mischief, but Eris was always poised to listen to your words, he was always ready to help you if you even thought of asking him for it.
For now.
Tell me what's on your mind, Fawn.
Hesitating, your quill hovered over the paper as you debated whether or not to tell him what the past three days had been like without Azriel and Nesta. The hushed words and glares, your loneliness and desire to lock yourself away. Was it divulging Night Court secrets or just your own?
I feel out of place here. I feel like I'm being punished for helping you. Rhys sent Azriel and Nesta away, and the rest of them are avoiding me more than usual. Cassian hasn't invited me to training, Mor hasn't come to my rooms to gossip, even Rhys took Nyx from my arms only a few minutes ago. It's like I'm poison that they need to dispel from their lives and I just want to lock myself away and disappear.
Watching the clock, you counted down the seconds until another note found its way to you.
I know Rhys sent them away because I found them poking around my boarders the evening before last. And, you're not poison, Little Fawn, locking yourself away only means that they win, and you're far too important to let the infantile actions of your family diminish everything that you are. Don't forget that. No one controls you but you, y/n, the world is yours if you would only ask for it.
Would you give me the world if I asked for it?
I would burn the world to ash if you asked me to. There is nothing that I would not give you.
Heart fluttering in your chest, you slumped back into the comfort of the antique armchair that you had told Cassian off more times than not for using it as a stool for his feet.
Will you be there tonight? At the Day Court?
I will.
Will you find me?
Always.
The shield around you pulsated with force and you furrowed your brow at the shimmering ripples that swam across its surface. Dull thumps echoed within your bubble, and a muffled voice called out to you. Glancing down at the note in your fingers, you turned it into black mist that curled around your fingers and danced upward to the sky and lowered the guard.
You could have cried with relief. Azriel stood before you, still clad in his second skin, blue siphons glowing like he had entered just entered Velaris and had immediately sought you out before reporting to Rhys. Azriel knew what was more important.
"You're back," you breathed as you walked into his awaiting arms, arms that wrapped around your waist and fingers that raked through your hair with a hint of desperation.
Your heart seized in your chest, needing to feel at home and at peace. But it didn't. A lump formed in your throat and a pit opened in your stomach and pooled with unease.
Azriel pulled away from you, his hazel eyes scoured your face but they held something awoken in them, like he saw you differently. His fingers floated over the surface of your skin, up the inky bargain that encased your upper arm which matched his own and across your collarbone, but he didn't touch you there as though as if he were worried that you would mar his hands further.
You took a step back, "What's wrong?"
He'd found something on his travels, something that was making him look at you differently, in a way he had never looked at you, with fear, with sadness.
Azriel's brows etched together, his eyes flowing up and down your form, noticing something off about you. Your scent. The scent of Autumn, of Eris, lingered on your fingertips, the same fingers that were wrapped around his neck moments ago. You hid your hands behind your back.
"Nothing. I just wanted to see you," even his voice was laced with his deception, his shoulders went rigid like a putrid smell had entered his nose, and he visibly shivered, "I should go and talk to Rhys. I'll find you later?"
Feigning innocence, you called, "Was the mission alright, at least? Where did you end up going?"
Azriel turned back to you, lingering in the doorway before your portrait, "It was fine," he forced a tight lipped smile, it was almost as if he had forgotten how observant you were, and how well you knew him. Still, you kept your eyes full of that doe eyed wonder that threw him off and lured him right into your talons. If he was going to lie to you, then there was no harm in aiding your own agenda, "Rhys sent us to keep an eye on some happenings in Spring. Tamlin has been expanding his armies."
A lie. A blatant attempt of deception. One that didn't stick.
Anger bubbled within you, Azriel had never lied to you, your bond was supposed to be too special for those kind of games. Instead of allowing it to bubble over, you inhaled deeply and kept your hands folded behind your back, "Well, I'm glad you're home. I missed you."
The Shadowsinger relaxed his features and almost looked as though he wanted to move to you, to gather you up in his arms and protect you from whatever was clearly heading your way. But he didn't, instead, he spoke to you softly, "I missed you too, y/n," and disappeared from your view.
A feeling of impending pain, perhaps not physical, lodged itself deep within your soul, almost strong enough to steal the air from your lungs. Clasping you hand around the ledge of the large oak desk, you hunched over and attempted to fill your lungs with oxygen, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and for the first time in your life, your own sanctuary was suffocating you.
Nesta had greeted you with the same apprehension as Azriel had, although, at least she had made it clear that she didn't want to.
Even the walls were watching you, craning their gaze to follow your figure through the house. The only safe space was your room, so that's where you were, nestled between the cushions and watching the candlelight flicker against the cream coated walls whilst Nesta paced about the space, showing you countless dresses on their hangers since you were making no move to look yourself.
Your friend was dressed in head-to-toe black, a form fitting garment with a long slit up the right side and a neckline so plunging that it left little to the imagination. Her coronet was tightly woven, and two thick strands curled around her jaw to frame her sharp features. Blood red lips, arched brows, eyes full of anticipation.
"You have to choose one, y/n."
Ignoring her command, you turned your head to her and she knew what you wanted to know before you even asked, "Are you going to lie to me too?"
Nesta froze, allowing the hanger to fall at her side along with the silver garment attached to it, "What do you want to know?"
"I want to know why Azriel lied to me about where you both went, and I want to know why all of you are suddenly treating me like a stranger," Nesta exhaled shakily, and it was the first time that you had truly seen her stoic demeanour perish before your eyes; she glanced about the room with worry, like she too could sense the house pressing its ear up against your door, "It's safe to speak. Not even the house can hear us."
The elder Archeron sister perched on the edge of your bed, noting your hunched over figure as you hugged your knees close to your chest, it was clear that your exclusion by everyone was making you feel lesser than. Nesta rested her hand atop the comforter, almost reaching for you, but also not at all; Nesta struggled to find the words, to tell you some form of truth without shattering you, "If it ever comes to it, you know I will protect you, don't you?"
"I used to believe that."
Nesta shuffled up the bed and spoke in a hushed tone, "Rhys has been trying to understand you, where all of your power came from and why he only has a fraction of it. He asked us to go Under The Mountain, to see if Amarantha did something else to you other than take your wings. Males would stop at nothing to harness the power that you have."
Under The Mountain was a hazy memory, one that you'd rather not remember at all. You rolled your shoulders, feeling the marred flesh rippling at the action, "Is that what Rhys wants to do? To harness my power? Is that why I've been so hidden?"
Nesta didn't want to answer, but she couldn't keep it from you, unlike Azriel, Nesta remembered your observance, how nothing got past those fire ringed violet orbs, "I don't know what he wants to do with what he finds," she told you honestly, her stoic hatred for him returning to her features, "I didn't go to aid him, y/n. I went so that I could find whatever he wants to know and give it to you. Protect you."
At least one of them was on your side, and you supposed it would have always been Nesta, Azriel was too loyal to the Night Court, and despite your bargain, he would always protect Velaris first and worry about you later.
"Did you find anything?"
Nesta sighed, "Azriel didn't," but she certainly had, "Not now. Now, you wear the most incredible thing you can find and we go to the Day Court and wear the masks that we have to in order to survive another day."
The dress in her fingers, still on its cushioned pearlescent hanger, was a shade of blue-grey that you rarely wore. The bodice was like armour, perfectly fitted and boned, crystals were embedded into the curve of the breastplate and trickled down the deep seated opening that only met just above the bellybutton, exposing the taut muscle and cleavage beneath. From the point where the fabric met at the lower abdomen, the skirt curved upward over the hips and each ridge of fabric acted as a branch, curving upward and cascading down the back, pooling on the floor. The skirt was frosted, diamonds coated the branches of the skirt and curled around the hem which trailed along the floor, and a long central slit sliced upward, enough to expose the legs you knew most males would crumble for, but also little enough to keep your dignity in tact.
It was a spectacular thing that your mother had made. Perhaps the most.
Nesta helped you into the piece, slithering it up your form and humming in appreciation about how well it fit you. The sleeveless garment was certainly made for you, and she secured a diamond necklace around your neck and rested her hands on your shoulders.
Loose curls bounced with every step, Nesta had braided two thick sections and pinned them upward, pulling the skin of your face backward, and had even gone as far as to bless your face in neutral shimmering cosmetics.
The room fell silent when you stepped into the living area, Cassian's once bellowing laughter turned to molten nothingness, Mor's quips dissipated, Rhys' loving words to Feyre who was entangled in his arms were ash in his mouth, even Azriel couldn't speak as his own eyes poured over you.
Paying little mind to the stares of your family, you turned your attention to Lucien who was stood in the corner leaning against a wooden beam with his arms folded over his chest, smirking, "Shall we? I'd hate to waste an outfit like this on people who couldn't even begin to appreciate it the way it deserves to be."
Lucien bit back his laugh and took your arm after a gentle nod from Elain who knew, and despised, how you were being treated. Under his breath Lucien muttered, "You're playing with fire, y/n."
Leading him from the house and onto the lawn, you turned your gaze upward to him, appreciating his beauty and the tied back hair that Elain had no doubt tailored to him, "Perhaps. But I won't be the one who gets burned."
The Day Court Palace had always had the ability to take your breath away, the home alone was enough to convince you that relocating would be a good idea. Maybe it was the white marble pillars so brilliantly white and tall that they kissed the sky, or maybe it was the cloudless skies that washed you in orange bliss the moment you appeared at the foot of the steps.
Even the breeze was welcoming, dancing around your arms and shoulders before moving onward. A weight had shifted within you, and you realised that it was because the Day Court had no reason to watch you like Velaris did, that for the first time in months you were actually free of eyes constantly watching you.
You didn't look back to see if everyone had landed alright when you began to ascend the steps, completely breaking protocol and sauntering upward to where you could hear music and laughter bubbling. Two familiar presences fell in step with you, Nesta and Lucien, the former to your left and the latter to your right, and you all ignored the claws scraping down the walls of your minds commanding you to return to your positions.
Music swirled around you as you paced down the hallway, being mindful of the multiple pairs of feet scuffling behind you until a hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you back with force. Rhys loomed over you, eyes ablaze and snarl conformed to his lips, nostrils flaring with each breath, "What do you think you're doing?"
Nesta fell to your side, ready to take down the High Lord by any means necessary, Cassian was glaring at her and moved closer to Rhys, "I think that you're the one who should be answering that question, brother."
The air around you both grew heavy, it pulsated with dark energy that emitted from you both, but yours drowned his own and pierced him with its talons, making him feel weak and weary, "Remove your hand before I make you," and he did, his hand dropped from your wrist, "What a good little High Lord you are, Rhys. Father would be so proud of you."
Unspoken words flew between you, ones that told him that you knew what he was doing, that he was seeking to control you and always had, just as your father did.
Azriel had, unsurprisingly, moved to Rhys' other side, his gaze low and body ready to cut you down, he was blocking Feyre from view but she peeked over his shoulder just as Mor did with Cassian.
Power pulsated around you like a heartbeat, black began to move from your fingertips and tinge your veins with their ink from your fury, and Rhys' faltered at the sight of it, his eyes blew wide open and he found your darkened eyes zoning in on him, the violet had turned almost black and that ring of fire was blazing, "You need to calm down, y/n."
"Don't you dare," Nesta growled, placing her hands on your shoulders and turning you away, whispering to you and soothing you whilst Lucien stood up to Rhys.
Lucien's gaze was cold, his mechanical eye whirred as he took in the scene before him, of the High Lord flanked by his soldiers, needing to protect him from his own flesh and blood, "Tell me, Rhys," he found Rhys' gaze again, that constantly disapproving thing that followed you everywhere, "Tell me how what you're doing to her, to your own sister, is any different than what Tamlin did to Feyre."
Silence.
Bone dry silence consumed them, and when Lucien turned to see where you and Nesta had gone to, he only saw the train of your dress slip around the corner of the door toward the sound of freedom.
The room had turned to you as soon as you had entered with Nesta by your side, and not in a wary on edge way, in one of awe and adoration. Eris lingered by the dais, dressed in dark grey pants and white shirt, grey waistcoat and matching jacket which adorned silver swirls.
All anger evaporated from you as soon as his russet eyes found you, they washed over you with concern, no doubt seeing the blackened fingertips and sadness in your own orbs that had returned to their usual hue. He looked beautiful, more so than you remembered, more beautiful than the version of him that settled within your dreams.
You moved to the dais and greeted Helion, you had gone to bow to him, as custom when visiting other courts, but he didn't let you, "You bow for no one, especially when you look like that," he had always taken every opportunity to flirt with you, and he always held a certain resentment for Rhys for refusing your hand to him.
"Thank you for inviting us, I hope you've had a wonderful birthday," you folded his hands in your own and felt his healing touch worm its way into every negative pocket in your body, feeling lighter, more grounded.
The doors opened again, and you turned to see Rhys stalk up the centre of the hall closely followed by the rest of his Inner Circle. As if sensing your discomfort, Eris took a step up and offered a hand to you, and you gladly took it, stepping down from the foot of the dais to allow Rhys to have his moment with his friend, and not once did Cassian or Azriel's eyes move from you.
Lucien reached his brother and whispered into his ear, "I need to talk to you. Now," Eris frowned and peered to you, noting your fluttering eyelids and the unease that radiated from you and nodded, moving to follow Lucien who sent you a reassuring smile before they exited the hall.
If it weren't for Nesta stood beside you, you surely would have crumbled. She stared down her own mate and friends, head dipped low and staring at them through her brows, anger seethed from her and you knew she was going over the consequences of ending Rhys' existence right there and then in her mind. Nesta was Lady Death and you were the Queen of Darkness.
For the next hour you stuck to the walls of the hall, muttering polite hellos as you did your best to keep a safe distance between you and Rhys.
The architecture was stunning, white marble walls and golden chandeliers, pale wood round tables stacked with sparkling wine flutes and food, long benches full of revellers enjoying the festivities. Artwork delicately hung from the walls, glittering in the crystal tinted glow of the chandeliers, sparkling in the light as the skies grew dark beyond the open arches.
Helion's bellowing laughter floated about the room, and you wondered how a life in Day could have turned out for you. Though, you didn't have long to think of it before a hand curled around your forearm and gently pulled you from the room. Eris was in front of you, gingerly holding your arm in his hand as he led you down a flurry of corridors, peering down each one quickly to ensure it was safe to go there.
The High Lord led you all the way out to a private balcony, where you could hear the waves crashing against the rocks and the breeze flutter around the corner. The torchlight danced in the wind, flickering softly as he turned to you. Breathing in, you felt peace, that autumn pine and orange, wilting leaves and warm autumn rain.
Sighing, you felt tears pool in your vision, turning it slightly blurry as you tried to drink him in, "Lucien told me what happened. Are you alright?"
That singular question broke a little piece of you, you couldn't remember the last time some asked if you were alright and were actually invested in the answer. The concern in his eyes and brows made a soft tug pull at your soul, "I'm suffocating."
Eris waited for you to continue, keeping a distance he thought you'd be comfortable with between you, though all you wanted was to know what his arms around you would feel like, what it would feel like to have his lips pressed to the bare skin of your shoulder.
"They've been lying to me, all of them. Nesta confirmed it. Rhys doesn't understand why he only has a fraction of my power, he sent them Under The Mountain to see if Amarantha did other things to me when she held me hostage in the beginning. I feel like a prisoner in my own home, they're all scared of me, even Azriel," your voice broke, never in a million years, in your existence, did you ever think you'd voice that Azriel was scared of you.
"None of them want to touch me or speak to me. I can't do it anymore. I thought Rhys just wanted to protect me, but now I know it was never about that, it was about keeping me hidden and away from everyone else, he made me a prisoner and I didn't even know it."
Wrapping your arms around yourself, your tears flowed freely down your cheeks and you made no move to wipe them away. Eris took a step closer to you, his shadow waltzing with your own, "Can I touch you?"
It took you a moment, a moment of his russet eyes on you and fingers fidgeting at his side until you nodded softly and he raised his hand. His fingertips lightly dusted up your arms and neck, they curled your hair around them and grazed along your jaw, and you felt electric under his touch that spready across every single part of you. His breath was warm over your face and you took a moment to appreciate him, his godly-crafted cheekbones and jaw, eyes that told a million stories, the golden freckled skin and his curved lips.
"I'm not afraid of you, Little Fawn. Nothing about you scares me," his finger curled under your chin and angled your head upward, "All you need to do is say the words. You are the author of your own story. Tell me what you want."
Rhys had let you believe that you had free will, he had allowed you to be outspoken and poised, he had let you believe that you were nothing more than a scare tactic, and you were too enthralled with your so-called family to realise what he had done. There was nothing free about your life, you weren't allowed to leave Velaris without supervision and even such occasions were rare, you weren't called upon in battle until there was no other choice, you were a pawn to him, one that he had masterfully toyed with.
"I want to go to the Autumn Court. With you. I want to denounce my place in the Night Court and leave Velaris," the words felt like poison in your mouth but your soul was thankful for it, and the storm in your soul had already began to break with golden sunlight.
Eris nodded and took a step toward you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest, your hands were flat against his waistcoat that had once again matched your own attire perfectly, "Your wish is my command, Little Fawn," and then you both disappeared in a swirl of light, leaving nothing but the joint bliss of your scents behind and dancing away in the night-kissed breeze.
Author's Note
I hope you love this! x
Taglist
@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams
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đđđ đđđ đđđđ! ... a matthew sturniolo series. đČàč đ â introduction.
Ś Â Ś
àŸ PAIRING. asshole!matt & poc!popstar!fem!oc
headline. one year laterâ her career blooming, skin glowing with any and every one kneeling at her feet. yet here she is, craving him. missing him, even if he was the worst boyfriend she ever had. it seems like everything she tried to forget him, isnt working. thereâs no other choice but to do what she does best; write a song.
ⶠŚ
àŁȘ look out for. ANGST ANGST! first half is a flashback (will be in italics). matt being a total asshat.. thats it i think
âł heavily based on: get him back by olivia rodrigo.
đđ:đđ đđ. april 20th, 2024.
âĄăïŒăđ the atmosphere in the living room was more than stuffy. harmony and matt had been going back and forth for about an hour, taking hurtful jabs at each other. arguments were never her thing but as of now, it was very much needed to get through to him. he got heated over the smallest things and deep down, it started to feel like he got a kick from itâ seeing her cry and break down after he made a big deal over nothing. she just couldnât take it anymore, take him.
âyou bug me for everything else har, so why couldnât you just tell me you were going out? especially with alexis.â he grumbles, blowing out angry air as he walks further into the kitchen. harmony sighs, sliding a hand down her face. she chose to ignore his attempt to shame her best friend, knowing he tried to make a move on her while harmony was out in boston, visiting family.
âfor the ten thousandth time, i did tell you. i reminded you every day this week but you didnât listen. then again, iâm not surprised.â she retorts, the need to be nice to keep his ego intact long, long gone. matt freezes, her words obviously getting to him. âand whatâs that supposed to mean?â matt questions, turning around to face her.
âit means.. you only listen to me when it concerns you, matt. you donât care about me anymore and i realize that now. i-i mean, when i told you i finally got the singing gig iâve been dreaming of, you didnât congratulate me. didnât even say you were proud.â harmony stumbles over her words slightly, tears boiling in her waterline.
a scoff of disbelief leaves the brunettes lips as he rests his elbows on the kitchen island. âi have my own shit to worry about, harmony. so, my apologies if iâm not jumping and screaming over some gig.â he says sarcastically, his eyes focused on the marble.
if someone told her last summer that this is what her relationship would be like, she would have laughed in their face. harmony stares at him, the tears streaming down as she shakes her head. harmony finally realizes that this argument is getting the pair absolutely nowhere. stressing herself out to make him love her wasnât an option anymore.
âget out.â she sobs, walking towards the front door and opening it wide. mattâs energy quickly changes, his once cold demeanor now apologetic. âwait baby. câmon, we can talk this out. it was just a petty argument, i didnât mean it. â his voice soft and light, as if he was trying to persuade her into letting him stay. not this time. she had put her foot down.
âmatthew. please, just leave, okay? donât make this harder than it already is.â harmony mutters, loud enough for him to hear. the two stare at each other, waiting for someone to say something. when no one does, matt grabs his car keys and walks to the door. before walking out, he stops in his tracks. âisâŠis it over? are we over?â he questions, his head hung low. harmony looks away, the lights suddenly entertaining.
âyeah.â she says. a defeated sigh leaves matt as he nods, his feet carrying him outside to his car. harmony almost immediately closes the door behind him, her loud cries echoing throughout her apartment. she knew this was the best thing for her but at the same time, he was her everything. she hopes that with this weight lifted from her shoulders, sheâll be able to be the best sheâs ever been.
đđđđđđđđ đđđđ.
âĄăïŒăđ and boy, was she right. two months after the break up, she released her first album with the help of her lovely best friends, gabriella & francis and it went crazy. the entire world knew her name, loved her music and she couldnât help but be happy now. or at least, she felt like she was.
truth be told, she never fully got over him. of course, she had flings and one night stands but they werenât matt. even though he treated her terribly, the early stages of their relationship was like heaven. she misses it. she misses him. she wanted him back.
âearth to harmony⊠hello?!â gabriella exclaims, waving her hand in front of her face. harmony snaps out of her daze, blinking at the girl next to her. âhm.. yeah? whatâs up?â she asks, confused on when and how her friends got here.
âwhatâs up? jesus, har. you gotta stop smoking weed! i was asking if you wrote anything yet?â gabi questions, looking at the closed notebook resting in harmonyâs lap. her eyes follow gabiâs, a bright lightbulb going off in her head. she knew exactly what she was gonna write a song about.
ânot yet, but i might have an idea.â harmony gleams, a grin spreading across her face.
solai speaks. intro to my matt series.. how we feeling????? iâm so excited you have no idea. still debating on making a cast post so u can see the faceclaims soooo :p. plz reblog n comment it would srsly mean the world to me <3.
taglist. @fawnchives @prettyvyll @trickywritters @breeloveschris @gnxosblog @khxna @firexovni @tylerstacobell @ivonchetooo1239 @bernardsgf @dracoflaco @strniolo @paibey @hearts4chriss @sturniololo @rootbeerworshiper @tillies33ssss @katluckybear @realuvrrr @junnniiieee07 @ireadstoriss @summerssover
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YOUR DAILY ROUTINE 5 YEARS FROM NOW
This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesnât. If you donât feel like the pile resonates with you, donât be scared to pick another, if it still doesnât feel right, thatâs ok! Maybe our energies arenât as connected and my readings are not for you.
I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.
PICK A CARD READING
I asked my spirit guides what your daily routine looks like in 5 years time, pick a card to find out what they had to say!
Pile 1 âââ> Pile 2 âââ> Pile 3
DISCLAIMER: the timelines I give are not the period as a whole, they are just an estimate of the time when these events could happen.
PILE 1
7:00-7:30am: Wake up, I got the lyric â7am the usual morning line upâ from âWhen will my life begin?â Rapunzel, so you guys are waking up early. The first thing you do is either feed your pets or children, Iâm getting heavy dogs for those of you who donât have kids by this time, but I am seeing a lot of children vibes.
8:00-900am: Showering and getting ready, if you have kids, your partner will be up and looking after them for you, or this will be the time you take them to school. I feel like youâll be listening to podcasts or ted talks every morning to get you ready for the day.
9:30-10:00am: Checking emails? You might be working from home and checking your emails or messages from clients or employers. I see you sat at your desk with a warm cup of something, going through things on your computer, your partner walks in and lets you know that theyâre leaving for work now.
10:30-11:30am: Work work work, you guys will find yourself dealing with a lot of work during this time, however I do think that you make money by the hour, some of you could have a job that ensures you get paid separately by each client (like Tarot or something)
12:00-1:00pm: Making lunch for your partner, you guys will either go out to buy it and then drop it by their work, or you will make it yourself so that it feels special. Some of you could be seen as the âtrophy spouseâ when it comes to your partners work, they all think youâre a doll and are probably jealous of the food that you bring for your partner.
1:30-2:00pm: You can do whatever you want, this is your break time to go shopping or chill on the couch and watch your favourite show, I see that this changes often so you may like to do different things during this break, itâs not something that is set in stone forever.
2:00-3:00pm: Back to work, I feel this is when you do your best and most progressive work, some of you may be balancing another online job like authoring or possibly being a ghost writer for someone else. This is the time when you would absolutely hate to be distracted or interrupted.
3:00:3:30pm: Your final time to rest up before having to pick up the kids or take your dogs on a walk. During this time you might make yourself a snack, tidy the house (although I feel like you guys have a cleaner)
3:30-4:00pm: Little bit of a messy thirty minutes, youâre rushing around, which is why I think kids could be involved here, the school pick up is never easy lmao. For those of you who donât have kids, this may just be you being dragged around the street by your dogs (I think they are large)
4:30-5:00pm: Your partner is home! You are also probably dealing with your children fighting during this time LMAOO, one of them wants the TV remote and the other is pissed. This could also be your time to catch up with your partner and tell each other about your day.
5:00-6:00pm: Dinner time, I do think youâll be the one making dinner, but you definitely want to, sometimes your partner helps you out, but since you did the school run both ways, theyâre looking after the kids for you now. You spend a while on cooking, you may even get it prepared around lunch time, throwing some meat in the slow cooker for later.
6:00-7:00pm: wind down time with family, chilling on the couch with the pets, watching as the kids play on the trampoline outside, relaxing in the arms of your significant other. Very calm energy for this.
7:30pm-9:30pm: The battle of the demons, time to put the kids to bed! The kids donât like going to bed. âBut I went to sleep yesterday!â Youâll have a field trip with these.
10:00pm-12:00am: You wanna get spicy with your partner? You can, hereâs your opportunity. I do see you guys trying to make another kid around this time if you already have them, or perhaps this is your first. Relaxing in bed with your significant other, Iâm seeing someone counting 100 dollar bills, so take that as you will, you may even take a shower together to end the night, or possibly getting wet in other ways is your way to close the day.
PILE 2
5:00-6:00am: Wake up. You guys may have to commute to work, and need to wake up early, for some of you, your work could be over seas, like if you lived in Paris but commuted to London for work everyday using the tunnel, or if you lived on the Isle Of White in the UK and needed to travel on a ferry to get to your job, either way, youâre waking up before the sun rises.
7:00-9:00am: Work, youâre at work for the majority of the day now, your job itself seems something that youâre used to and like doing, a lot of you may have to coordinate meetings, so you could be a higher up. There does seem to be a tad of stress here and there, for a few this may be caused by need of public speaking, for others there could be workplace drama.
10:00am-4:00pm: The people around you look up to you a lot, you may own a company or share management of it, there is a possibility of you working in something which involves fighting, a few of you may be in the army, and this could be the cause for the early wake up and start to the day. Either way, whatever youâre doing, you are the head of it, people have to work with you in order to climb the ranks and better improve their chance of success. You could honestly be in control of pay upgrades and promotions for your business or workplace. I see you making a lot of money by having a lot of control.
5:00-6:00pm: Home time, I see you making dinner or possibly even ordering out, although I do think that you have a healthy diet and lifestyle. A few of you could have your own cook, or utilise certain artificial intelligence that makes food??? (I donât know bro, my guides seem to think that could be a thing of the future, you could have an online recipe book that you follow)
7:30-10:00pm: Resting up or doing whatever you want. I canât get a strong read on this as I think it changes each day, you could sometimes go on a run, other time youâre baking cookies on call with your mother. I do think you have a strict schedule you follow when it becomes time to go to bed, you sleep like a log lmao. Some of you may be looking for a relationship at this time, and this could be the entry period for going on dates, perhaps you go on multiple dates a night lol, you seem to be the life of the party either way. A lot of you donât drink, I see someone at a bar holding a juice box so take that as you will.
Sorry it was so short pile 2! Your day is much more put together and scheduled.
PILE 3
4:00-9:00am: If you have a young baby at this time, you may immediately go to nursing them as soon as you wake up, it honestly could even be that youâve woken up early morning, your partner comes over to your side of the bed holding the baby, hands it to you. I do see a lot of stress around this time, so honestly I think the majority, if not all of you will have kids in five years time.
7:00-9:00am: I see you spending this time laying in your bed with your partner, possibly the kids have joined you now and youâre all just relaxing watching some TV for the few hours that you have until the morning begins and you need to get up and ready. For the few of you who may not be in a relationship or have kids, this could be a pet perhaps that you are spending the early morning with.
8:00-10:00am: Youâre getting out of bed around this time and heading to the kitchen to get some breakfast started, you may have time to take a quick shower around this time, your partner will be looking after the kids, getting them all ready for the day so they can come and eat breakfast in time when itâs made.
8:30-9:00am: Some big change happens around this time, it may be that the kids are taken to school, or you perhaps take them to school. Iâm seeing that this is the moment you begin your work for the day, Iâm not too sure if you leave the house for it, I think so, as it does seem that thereâs a change of scenery.
10:00am-12:00pm: This time is spent getting everything together for your job, I am seeing someone grabbing some coffee, if you work a corporate job, youâll be getting yourself and some other people some coffee, collecting papers to make sure all your paperwork is complete. Some of you could be a therapist, psychologist or something to do with examining people, this is when you grab all your stuff to prepare for your clients, possible meetings etc.
12:00-1:00pm: A lot of teamwork around this time, this will be your first meeting of the day, first client, first job that you are supposed to complete. I see a need to write down a lot of stuff, you may even have a meeting presentation during this hour. Your lunch time may appear late, you perhaps have a job that runs over the normal lunch hour, so you go on your break in the next 1-2 hours.
2:00-3:00pm: Lunch time, I feel like you will leave your work building to go and buy lunch elsewhere, or perhaps your partner will bring you lunch themself, you might even order it into your section. You could be getting paid this time everyday, or you may count up your money for the day at this point.
3:30-4:00pm: You get to decide what you do here, I think sometimes you get the opportunity to go home at this time, other days you have to stay a little later, I think it depends on your schedule and the day of the week.
5:00-6:00pm: You get home during this period, I see there possibly being some time for you to relax and so what you want, before your partner and kids come home, some of you may have family around at this time each day? Or perhaps you live with extended family members and they will be making dinner for you, or getting some things done.
7:00pm-12:00am: A lot of you honestly could have family helping around the house, or perhaps you even have personal butlers, I donât see you having to do much when it comes to making dinner, getting the kids to bed or anything, I see that youâll be working hard on some paperwork that needs finishing, or getting your schedule ready for tomorrow, youâll mainly be focusing on your work during this period too, I feel like you like to be prepared. You may get intimate with your partner during this time, I donât see it lasting for too long as I think they go to bed earlier than you.
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Blood Ties Chapter 27
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Poorly written smut; lots and lots of pregnancy stuff (kinda gross toward the last)
A/N: We are now exiting my area of expertise with pregnancy. Google will be my friend. If I made mistakes, please just pretend I didnât. lol
gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams
Opening your eyes, you had to immediately squint against the morning sun. It couldnât be later than eight oâclock, give or take a few minutes. You were still in the same room Hershel had put you in two days ago, only allowed up to walk around, use the bathroom, and join for meals if you would like. Hershel had said you could still do light chores with no bending or reaching above your head, but Daryl had forbidden it without even saying a word. So, you mostly rested and focused on taking in enough water. Carl or Beth would bring each personâs bag so you could go through and inventory the contents, ensuring all the supplies were making it from each escape and taking note of any new supplies added.Â
Stretching your legs, you winced at the ache in your pelvis. âChrist, Thumps. Why do you have to sit right on my bladder first thing in the morning?â
âSâprolly like a pillow.âÂ
You already wore a smirk when your head rolled toward the door, finding Daryl in the chair working on his crossbow. Did it really take that much upkeep? Or was he just that meticulous? Cradling your belly, you eased onto your side to face him, propping yourself on your elbow with your cheek on your palm.Â
âMost women would find it creepy to wake up with a man watching them while tinkering with a weapon.âÂ
His hands kept moving but he looked up with a smirk of his own, a dark brow arched. âBut not you?â
You shook your head against your hand, smiling gently. âNot me.â He laughed with a breath through his nose and refocused on what he was doing. You had to push yourself up on your arm and shimmy around a bit to get into an actual seated position. Your belly was warm and heavy against your upper thighs, a hand or foot pressing out next to your navel. You poked it and chuckled when it disappeared and popped right back out. âGood morning, baby.âÂ
In your peripheral, you could see Daryl had stilled, felt his eyes on you. He was watching the interaction in silence, as he usually did. Just as you watched his interactions without a word. You started to invite him over, but the baby shifted, the weight on your full bladder doubling and the discomfort growing tenfold.Â
âOkay, time to pee. Likeâyesterday.â
Your partner was already getting to his feet and standing next to the bed before you even maneuvered your way to the edge of the mattress. Daryl leaned forward for you to grab his biceps while his hands found purchase beneath your arms and pulled you the remainder of the way with what appeared to be little to no effort. Using the hold he still had on you, he lifted you straight up and let you find your footing. Your protruding stomach was pressed against him, immediately squashing any hope you had of stealing a kiss.
You looked up at him with a silly pout that instantly disappeared in the face of the tiny one-sided lift of his lips. Heâd smiled at you before; hell, heâd even laughed at and with you. But this? This was the most peaceful, truest smile you had ever seen him wear.Â
And then it was gone, replaced with a scowl that was half hearted at best. âWhatâs with the face?âÂ
âNothing.â You brushed your fingers over his left temple at the same time that you felt his hands on either side of your belly. âAs sweet as this moment is and as much as I love you, if we donât get me somewhere to empty my bladder within the next two point three secondsâwell, remember when I vomited on your boots?âÂ
âGross.â Darylâs lip curled. He knew where you were taking that implication and urged you toward the door with a hand on the small of your back. âJust walk. Orâwaddle.â When you snapped your head around to gape at him, he was utterly stoic.
âI swear Iâm gonna strap a watermelon to your stomach and weâll see how sexy you can strut.â
The archer snorted, following you out the door.
You were impressed that you could still move as fast as you were, dodging and ducking, with Carolâs hand tight in one of yours. Your bag was on your shoulder, bouncing against your back, and your other hand braced the swell of your belly. The other woman was watchful, taking out anything that she knew you couldnât get around. Daryl was at your heels, stabbing walkers that stumbled out from the sides.
âGet âer outta here, Carol!â He roared from behind you, sounding further away than you were entirely comfortable with, but he always said run, donât look back. You had promised to listen to him. Itâs how you kept the peace when you were just as stubborn as him. Each of you gave a little.
âIâm trying!â Carol hissed out through gritted teeth, letting go of your hand to push back a walker while she stabbed another. Your knife sheath was unsecured, the weapon easily accessible, but you had promised to only use it when absolutely necessary. The walker that Carol had shoved turned in a stagger that led it straight toward you. In your book, that qualified as necessary. You took it down with ease, unable to admit how good it felt to protect yourself because another took its place. And another. And another. âGo! Get to the truck!âÂ
You had the keys. Daryl always made sure you carried them now. You were perfectly capable of hot-wiring a vehicle but he didnât want you wasting time. The two of you never discussed what would happen if he made it to the truck and you never did. He would never entertain the thought. Not for a moment.Â
You gave Carol a look, one that said you knew you had to listen to her, to Daryl but that it was definitely not what you wanted to do. And then you ran, stabbing if needed, dodging when you could. There were so fucking many. You could hear the yells of the others making their way to the van, sending up a silent prayer that they all made it. Your lungs were on fire by the time you saw the truck. It should have been a straight shot but someoneâwho had yet to come clean because you were all running for your livesâhad left the gate open and allowed the dead to fill the driveway.
You caught yourself against the cold metal passenger door, fumbling for the handle before jerking it open. You had lifted one foot into the cab when the door was forced inward, slamming it against the side of your head. With a shout, you pushed back, scrambling to get inside the truck while your ears rang and your vision blurred. How many head injuries were you going to rack up within a year? Hands were grabbing at you, pulling at your bag, your clothes, your hair. Finally, you were on the seat, holding the door tight while two arms and several hands kept you from closing it.
âFuck!â
Their snarls and moans were so loud that you couldnât hear anything beyond them and the steady knell in your ears. Hands hit the driverâs side window. More walkers. Daryl wasnât there. Carol wasnât there. Youâd never be able to get across the seat to start the truck before at least one was in the cab with you, maybe more.Â
But goddamnit, you had to try. Â
It was the only option left. You had to save Thumper and that meant saving yourself. It was what Daryl made you promise.
Holding the door with one hand, you leaned and fumbled with the key against the ignition. âCome on!â After a few more tries, a few more agonizing seconds, the key slid home. âYes!â You let the bag slide from your shoulder and to the floorboard. Turning yourself to put your feet against the door while still holding the handle was some seriously uncomfortable gymnastics shit but you didnât hold the position long. Pushing against the door with your feet, you both propelled yourself toward the steering wheel and knocked back the walkers that had been blocking you.Â
The seat was left between where it needed to be for you or Daryl to be able to drive. You could fix it later but you could fit well enough to get the fuck out of there. Turning the key, the engine barely started before you were throwing the shifter into drive. There were thumps that indicated a few had climbed into the bed but you could deal with that later.Â
Mowing down walker after walker, you nearly sobbed when you saw the taillights of the van. The others had made it. Had everyone made it? Maybe Daryl and Carol were with them. It took only a few moments to get far enough away to stop. You pulled off the road, just behind the van, your passenger door hanging open. The truck rocked, reminding you that there were still the walkers in the bed, but as people filed out of the van, there was no Carol. No Daryl.Â
And your world came to a screeching halt. âNo.â You whispered against the hand you pressed to your mouth. Your other hand gripped the fabric of your coat over your stomach. Rick would never let the walkers get into the truck so you placed your head against the steering wheel and let the tears fall. How would you do this without Daryl? How could you live without him? The man you loved was gone and you knew in your heart of hearts that you needed to go back, face the herd, find himâalong with Carolâand put them down. You wouldnât leave them to walk. You couldnât. You needed closure. A grave to visit if possible.
When the driverâs side door opened, you sobbed even harder, knowing Rick could never know how to comfort you. Your arms wrapped around your belly, your apologies to little Thumper for never being able to meet their father were choked down by each jerk of your shoulders, each wet breath. Distantly, inwardly, you hoped for a boy that you knew you would name DJ. You hoped he would be the spitting image of Daryl.Â
âChrist, ya drive like a maniac. Ya hurt? Baby okay?â
You straightened so quickly that your belly bumped the steering wheel and you felt a twinge of pain in your back. Darylâa little worse for wearâwas standing at the door, staring at you like nothing had happened.
âDarâhowââ You sobbed.
âJumped in the back âfore ya could peel outta there. Carol too.â He tilted his head and studied you, his eyes raking over you before stopping on the right side of your head. âYa alright?â You didnât even register his arm lifting, but then his calloused fingertips were touching a tender spot just behind your right temple. You hissed but that pain meant nothing. âHey, talk to me.â
As quickly as you could manage with your rounded middle, you launched yourself at him, falling into his chest with his arms instantly encircling you beneath your own. He walked forward and pushed you back onto the seat for support and held you tight, his cheek against the top of your head.
âI thought you were dead, you absolute fucking asshole!â
A hand pressed against the back of your head, pulling you to rest against his collarbone. âMâright here. Mâfine. Carolâs fine.â When he tried to push you back, you held on, digging your fingers into his back, taking fistfuls of his vest. âWant Hershel to look ya over, butcha gotta let go first.â
âNo.â You stated bluntly.
He didnât say anything for the longest time, simply letting you cling to him until your sobs had quieted to whimpers and hiccups, his large hands rubbing your back and cradling your head. âAlright. Least scoot over so I can drive. Anâ ya gotta let âim take a look atcha when we get to wherever the fuck weâre going.â
With a sniff, you conceded, nodding against his chest. When you moved back across the seat, you kept a hand fisted in the front of his shirt until he climbed in after you. He was talking with Rick but you didnât hear a word of it. Your forehead was pressed against the round of his shoulder, thigh against his, hands gripping the hem of his vest below the arm he had outstretched to the wheel. Your body rocked with his as he closed the door. He went still for a moment, likely examining how he was going to drive with you clinging to him like a fungus but not a word was said. You had never killed the engine, so he just shifted the gear and drove while you held onto him like a lifeline.
âSsh. Gotta be quiâfuckinâ christ.â
You had purposefully clenched your walls around him while continuing the steady rocking of your hips. âSsh,â you pressed a finger to your lips, âgotta be quiet, Daryl.â The scowl he gave you was impressive for a man teetering right on the edge of orgasm. You traced a line through the sheen of sweat on his chest, only stopping when you reached where your belly loomed over him. His fingers were digging into your thighs, moving up to your thickened waist to both guide and urge you. âIâm so close.â
Daryl only grunted, running a hand over your prominent belly and up to your breast, squeezing gently. You were still so sensitiveâand soreâbut with one flick of his thumb over your wet nipple, you crested, your palm swiftly covering your mouth to muffle your shout. He quickly let go of the soft mound of your chest to grab a thigh, digging blunt nails into your flesh as he followed you up, up, up with a series of heightened breaths, desperately keeping himself quiet as well.
Still panting, Daryl caught you by your bicep and rolled with you to lay you onto your side, slipping out of you in the process. You must have looked as dazed as you felt because he was brushing your sweaty mess of hair out of your face and narrowing his eyes. âYa okay?â
âMhm.â With a content sigh, you caught his hand and kissed his palm, smiling when he gave you that look as if he had no idea what to do next. âI love you.â His mouth twitched into a tiny smile, a hum vibrating behind his lips. He turned his hand to hold yours, placing them on the bed between you. He didnât say it back but he didnât need to; you knew. You knew about his dissent with emotions but he had said he loved you and you believed him. And that was that. âLetâs get cleaned up and go face the people we probably kept awake.â You chuckled.
He scoffed, throwing the blankets back from the bedroll as he sat up. The room was cold. There were even goosebumps on his skin where the air touched it, and that man was always hot. The house was more of a shack, one large room with the kitchen and a family area, one bedroom, and a bathroom. It was the third temporary safehouse in a week and a half.Â
Daryl kept the truck close to the door now, as close as he could possibly get it. With you at around 38 weeks, he was taking no chances. Seriously. No chances. You had to pee? He was with you. He had to pee? You were with him. He was practically attached to your hip, but you were finding you didnât feel crowded at all. You just couldnât since the night you thought youâd lost him.Â
The archer stood, pulling up his pants and underwear together, staring at the window as he buckled his belt. God, he was beautiful. The moonlight was bathing him just right. He didnât look real. Licking your lips, you thought about asking him to get right back under the blankets but that train of thought derailed with the tightening of your abdomen. You made a noise of discomfort, even though this contraction didnât hurt. It still wasnât the best feeling in the world.
âWhat?â Daryl sniffed, looking down at you.
âStupid fake contractions.â You grimaced, holding out a hand for something with which to clean yourself up. He was already on it, digging through the bag for the bra pads for you anyway. He tossed you one of his shirts, huffing a laugh when you regarded him with bewilderment. âAre we really going to have Carol washing jizz off one of your shirts? Oh my god, or Beth?! No! Give me something else!â
âAinât much else to use, Sunshine.â He tossed the bra pads at you but continued rifling through the bag. A box landed next to your hip which you recognized as squares of gauze. If it weren't for the fact that you not only needed to clean up the mess between your legs but the bedroll and blankets as well, you would have just thrown on your underwear and left it.
Daryl was buttoning his shirt and not really paying attention when you wiped through the sticky mess at your core, ready to open another square but then your hand was brought to a sudden halt. Along with your heart.Â
âDaryl.â You knew there was fear in your voice, you couldnât have hidden it if you tried. When you looked to him for reassurance, you found your expression mirrored.
âHey, doc, get the fuck in here!â He bellowed, staring at the thick glob of red, white, and yellow on the white material. Everyone was asleep or had at least bedded down, so it would likely take a moment for anyone to appear in the doorway. Still, he moved fast, pulling the tank top he had tossed to you over your head. It had to be stretched over your belly and a portion of your breasts could be seen from the side but at least you were mostly covered since it was untelling how many would respond to his exclamation.Â
âDaryl, itâs blood. Iâm bleeding. Is this normal? Is something wrong?â You rambled, the hand holding the gauze shaking so fiercely that he was forced to take hold of your wrist to steady it.
âI dunno. Hershel canâheâll look. Sâgonna be okay.â On his knees beside you, he pulled you against him with his free arm, holding you so tightly that you just knew it was so you didnât shatter. âHershel!â
âWhatâs wrong?â Carol was the first in, wrapping her cardigan tightly around her, but Hershel was just behind her, wiping at his eyes.
âWhat on earth, son?â
âSheâs bleedinâ, she ainât sâposed to bleed is she?â Now, you could feel Daryl shaking, even with his voice as steady as it was.
The others were filing into the room but Carol was on top of things, ushering them all right back out while the old man rolled up his sleeves.
âCarol, could you bring a couple more candles, please?â He asked, his tone so light that even you wanted to kick him. It was likely Daryl wanted to throw him out the window. âLetâs see what we have here.â Hershel picked up the one candle you and Daryl had lit and knelt down next to the bedroll, his knees cracking and popping. When he held his palm flat, you curled your lip, wishing gloves were something any of you had thought of on the runs. Daryl guided your hand with his hold on your wrist, keeping the gauze from flipping or spilling onto the manâs palm. âHmm. Can you tell me what happened before this?â
You and Daryl turned beet red. There was obviously cum on the gauze as well.
ââSides the obvious?â The archer murmured.
âOkay, so sex.â Hershel nodded. Daryl blanched. âAnything else?â
You were suddenly blank, the fear gripping your heart so tightly that it was cutting off the circulation to your brain. How could he seem so calm about this?
âShe had oneâa them fake contractions.â Daryl supplied. If you werenât a trembling wreck, you would have kissed him.Â
Carol trotted back into the room with a candle in each hand, kneeling down next to the veterinarian. âIs thatâ?â
âI think so.â
You were looking back and forth between the two, still unable to find your voice. Once again, Daryl spoke for you. âGonna make us guess?!â He snapped.
âEasy, Daryl.â Carol admonished, reaching a hand toward him but not touching.
âDonât fuckinâ easy me! What the fuck isââ
âCalm down.â Hershel demanded in a no nonsense tone. You felt Darylâs hold around your shoulders tighten. âI believe this is what is called the bloody show. Sometimes it just comes out on its own, but it can be triggered by intercourse. Now I have no way of knowing if the mucus plug has already passed and sadly, our woodland toilet would make it difficult to know anyway. It could actually be present in this. Regardless, that hardly matters.â
âMâgonna need some English anâ real fuckinâ quick, doc.â
âSheâs fine, Daryl.â Carol soothed. âYou know we wouldnât say that if she werenât.â The archer looked back and forth between the two again while you looked up at him. It took a long moment of uncomfortable silence but you felt the tension pressed against you loosen ever so slight. âLet him finish.â
Daryl gave a curt nod.
âThis usually means the cervix is thinning and dilating; that the baby is nearly ready to be born. Now the contraction,â he continued while twisting to place the gauze somewhere behind him, âcould have been Braxton Hicks, yes. It could have also been the real thing. Was it painful?â
You shook your head.
âThey arenât always in the beginning. According to my reading, some women are lucky enough to have very mild contractions all throughout labor and delivery.â He smiled, trying so hard to settle the unease eating its way through your sternum. âIâd like to examine you. Would you allow that?â
You nodded, feeling Daryl turn his head to see your permission with his own eyes.
âOkay, lie back please. Carol, Iâll need some water and soap please.â The woman was up and out the door before you could blink. âThis will be just like the last one. Some mild discomfort but it shouldnât be anything beyond that. Have you had any contractions since the last one?â
âNo.â You sounded so small, even to your own ears.
âOkay, thatâs good. We wonât rule anything out yet. Your water hasnât broken, but I must warn you that it is possible I may accidentally cause that during the exam. If that happens, thereâs no reason to be alarmed.âÂ
You were nodding, you felt yourself doing it but it didnât feel like you were really there at all. The fear had won and you were falling victim to the panic stirring up within you, its tendrils snaking around your lungs, making it impossible to breathe.Â
Then Daryl released your wrist and slipped his hand into yours.
He was listening carefully to Hershel, watching Carol return, but he was still attentive to what you needed at that moment as well. You felt the pressure in your chest recede, your lungs easily filling while your heartrate slowed. You were still scared. You still trembled, but so did he.
The vet had moved onto the bedroll but before he could do anything, Daryl was reaching down with a quick I got it and moving the blanket. His free hand was warm on your thigh, not removing it until you bent your knees and placed your feet flat. You watched the old man for a moment, suddenly self conscious when he stared impassively before his eyes flitted over to Daryl.
âOh, uhâsorry for theâyeah.â The archer cleared his throat, his head ducking.
âCarol.â Hershel sighed. âIf there are any runs to be made soon, please make sure gloves are mentioned as a necessity.â The other woman giggled behind her hand but quickly wiped it away and nodded. âOkay, here we go.â
It felt exactly as it had the first time, deeply uncomfortable and borderline painful at certain points, though this time you were able to remain still and silent. You chose to watch your partner as he eyed Hershel like a hawk, eyes squinted and focused. You squeezed his hand. Instantly, his attention was on you. His thumb swept back and forth over your knuckles, a grounding movement on which you could center yourself.
âWell.â Hershel had pulled his hand away and was washing up with the soap and water Carol had brought in for him. âYouâre about 3cm, my dear. Now itâs anyoneâs guess when your water will break or if it will at all. If not, I will likely need to intervene to speed things up but thatâs down the road. Take it easy but walk around if you can. Drink lots of water, any extra that we can ration off for you. Iâm sure others would be willing, myself included. Let me know of any contractions, even if they arenât painful. We will need to start timing them. I can get Glenn to loan you the watch I gave to him, Daryl, but please donât smash it.â
âWait. Thatâs it?â You struggled to sit up until Daryl assisted you.
âThatâs it. Itâs a waiting game now.â Carol picked up what she could and promised to return for the rest, smiling at you before she left the room, likely to fill in the others. âBut from the looks of things, your little Thumper will be making his or her debut in the veryâand I mean veryânear future.â
Both you and Daryl stared at the doorway long after it was empty. When you squeezed his hand, he squeezed back. And in unison, you both took a deep breath and uttered two words.
âHoly shit.â
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Shaking (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have an anxiety attack in a public setting, but luckily, the doctor is there to help you through it.
Word Count: 2450
Warnings: Anxiety attack, mild cursing, mostly just ANGST and then comforting FLUFF
A/N: Wanted to write Spence comforting the reader during a panic attack. Fanfiction is better than therapy, right? At least, itâs cheaper! Also not my GIF
ââ
âYou donât want to just order it online?â Spencer asked as you walked beside him down the sidewalk. His longer legs would typically mean that heâd be several steps ahead of you, but he always slowed his pace so you wouldnât have to strain to keep up with him. He also walked on the outside of the path because, letâs face it, he was a gentleman.
You shook your head. âNo, I want the whole experience,â you said excitedly as you walked, your face lighting up in anticipation. You were on your way towards a local bookstore, where the third book in your favorite series was being released today. The bookstore was going to be packed, but you were so excited to be one of the first ones in the door, to get your hands on a physical copy. âI donât ever do things like this, but itâll be something I think about every time I look at the book sitting on my shelf.â
Spencer nodded, lifting his hand, his thumb and forefinger in an O-shape as he spoke. âAh, the age-old concept of symbolic treasures. One of the main reasons why souvenirs are such a prevalent part of going on vacation. Did you know the tradition dates back to Ancient Egypt?â
You shook your head as you continued to walk with him. Your boyfriend carried on without fault. âAs far back as 2200 B.C, Egyptian Prince Harkhuf traveled to what is now known as Sudan and returned with all sorts of objects to present to his father, the pharaoh,â Spencer explained. His words spat out quickly, compulsively, as though they had to exit his encyclopedic brain. âHe brought back items such as incense, ivory, even the skins of leopards to show off to his father.â
âI had no idea,â you told Spencer as you neared the bookstore, smiling sideways at him. You loved it when he spouted off facts like that, like he had to get the information out or else heâd explode. He had confessed to you more than once before that most people found it weird or off-putting or even annoying, but not you. Rather, you loved learning new things. Whatever information he had to share with you was always relevant in one way or another, and it was just one of the reasons why you loved spending time with him - he made you a more knowledgeable, well-rounded person.
Before either of you could say much else, youâd reached the back of the line of the bookstore. You checked the time on your phone. The store would open in about fifteen minutes. The line stretched down at least a full block, from what you could see. Lots of people dressed like characters from the books, shuffling their feet in excited anticipation.
There were at least a hundred people in the line, and after a minute or two, a couple dozen more had filed in behind where you stood. You pursed your lips for a moment, scanning the crowd until your eyes met Spencerâs.
âWhatâs wrong?â He asked, inclining his head to the side.
You shook your head. âNothing,â you said. âJust⊠lot of people.â
Spencer nodded understandingly, then reached down to take your hand. Your fingers twined with his and he squeezed his palm against yours. âIâm right here,â he reminded you. You didnât love crowds. They always made you feel anxious, perhaps even a little claustrophobic. You and Spencer had gone to a fairly crowded French film festival a few months ago and there hadnât been an organized line to enter; rather, it had been a cluster of people, all pressed together. And you had felt like you couldnât breathe. Spencerâd had to pull you to a seat off to the side so you could catch your breath, and youâd missed getting a seat up front like youâd been hoping for.
Right now, you were okay, though. There were people in front of you and behind you, but they werenât flush against you like they had been waiting for the film festival to open. And Spencer was holding your hand, and you were outside, with the cool, spring morning breeze hitting your face. It was fine. You were going to be fine. You inhaled deeply and exhaled, then nodded your head, feeling the anxiety dissipate. âIâm good,â you told Spencer, looking up at him.
Spencer nodded. He squeezed your hand once again before letting go, only so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders and tug you so you leaned against his chest. He kissed the top of your hair. âItâs going to be just fine,â he promised you, and you just smiled to yourself.
About ten minutes later, the store opened. You only knew that because the line started moving, and more quickly than you thought. You squealed in delight and matched the pace of the people in front of you, Spencer by your side with an amused grin on his face. He loved books just as much as you did, if not more, but this outing was definitely just for you. Heâd read the other preceding books in this series (literally just because you asked him to and it took him an hour, tops), but he wasnât a total geek for it like you were.
You finally made it inside the bookstore, a small business, a local place. Youâd been inside several times before, but you hadnât realized just how small the building actually was until you stepped in now. It was two stories, but everyone was tightly packed, with the people and the bookshelves crowding around you as you made it fully inside the store. There was even a line to go up to the second floor, like a queue at an amusement park.
There was little to no breathing room. Everyone was talking as they waited their turn to grab a copy of the new book, and the sound seemed to bounce off the walls and the ceiling and smack you right in the ear. The air felt thick despite the front door and handful of windows being opened, allowing the cool spring breeze to ruffle the pages of the paperbacks on display.
But it wasnât refreshing. Rather, it was another stimulant that caused the neurons in your brain to fire even faster. You felt your palms get slick. You felt your heart start to pound, and your knees wobble as you shuffled forward in the line. What were you even waiting in line for? You momentarily forgot, blinking a few times before looking up at the man beside you. Spencer was engrossed in looking around the bookstore, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he seemed to find something amusing. But when his eyes came full circle back to you, they were immediately filled with concern. âY/N?â He asked softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.
You couldnât even hear him. The sound of his voice just bounced off your brain, like you were trapped inside of cellophane. All you could think was trapped. Iâm trapped. No way out. Stuck. Caged. Canât breathe. Canât breathe.
You felt your breathing go heavy, and your eyes fill up with tears. Your cheeks were red, bright red, judging from how hot you suddenly felt. âLeave,â you managed to choke out, your voice coming out from your throat. It felt like your throat was lined with thorns, like the words you wanted to say kept getting caught.
Spencer nodded. âLeave? Yeah. Yeah, baby, we can leave,â Spencer grabbed your hand, tugging you along behind him as he murmured âexcuse me, pardon me,â to the other patrons, to get through the crowd. Moving against the crowd was so much worse than standing still. All those eyes on you, seeing your red face and the anxious tears trickling down your cheeks. It was so embarrassing, freaking out like this is such a public space. Everyone thinks Iâm a freak, you thought. Your anxiety became not about the crowd, but about your anxiety, about how you were being perceived. Your breathing picked up, quickened, and by the time Spencer led you out into the morning sun, you were fully hyperventilating.
The thoughts in your head were racing at the speed of light. You hated feeling nervous like this, but moreover, you hated that Spencer had to take care of you because of it. You felt like you had ruined the day because your head wasnât on straight, because you couldnât stand in a crowd of people and hear the cacophony of voices and tamp down your panic.
Spencer led you down the block, about twenty feet from the store, away from the crowd, and your breath was still coming out staccato, unstable as you looked down at your shaking hands. You were crying and hyperventilating and the whole world felt like it was spinning. Spencer kept his hold on your hand and stood in front of you, squeezing his palm against yours. His eyes, those light brown irises with little flecks of green, stared into yours. âHey, Y/N,â he said, bending his knees so his face was level with yours. âBreathe with me, okay?â
You shook your head, your eyes clamping shut. You were so mad at yourself in that moment. You didnât want to have Spencer take care of you, to have to drag you out of a bookstore because you were having a panic attack. âBaby, youâre trembling,â you heard Spencerâs voice laced with concern. âLook at me. Weâll get through this together.â
You opened your eyes slowly, and thatâs when you realized your entire body was shaking. You looked into Spencerâs eyes and he released your hand so he could cup your face. His fingers anchored under your jaw, his thumbs rested on your cheeks, and his eyes were wide, full of worry, but his voice managed to stay soothing and calm. âFollow my breath, Y/N. Do what Iâm doing, okay? In for four, hold for four, out for four.â
He inhaled for 4 seconds, and you tried to follow his lead, but you just couldnât control your lungs. âItâs okay,â he assured you as your brows furrowed, presenting frustration. âCâmon, try again.â He inhaled for 4 seconds, and you managed to match him this time. âHold for four,â you held your breath while Spencer counted. âAnd out for four,â you exhaled deeply. âGood, okay, letâs do it again.â
Spencer guided your breath for a few minutes, until you finally felt like you could do it on your own. And when you finally felt yourself coming down from the rush of panic that had sent you into fight-or-flight, you wiped at your wet eyes. âIâm sorry,â you croaked, and Spencer just shook his head.
âNo,â he insisted, taking your hand and placing it on his heart. You could feel it beating through his long-sleeved t-shirt. âNo, you donât have to be sorry.â You rubbed your hand against his chest, finding it comforting as you hung your head. âBaby, look at me,â he requested, and you met his eyes.
âPlease donât ever apologize for having an anxiety attack, okay? For one thing, itâs not your fault. You canât control the chemicals and waves in your brain and how your body reacts to situations,â Spencer began, his hand on top of yours that rested on his chest. You nodded, using the heel of your free hand to wipe away your tears. The crying was over, you were fairly certain, but god, did this suck. âYou also should never feel ashamed for having a panic attack, Y/N. It happened, and weâre working through it. Itâs a lot like boiling a pot of water, isnât it?â
You let out a garbled sounding laugh and your brows furrowed. âHow so?â You stammered out.
âWell, you set the pot of water on the stove, right?â Spencer began, and you nodded. âAnd then when it starts to bubble, thatâs your anxiety. Some sort of external stimulant - the stove, or, in your case, the overwhelming feeling of being in a crowd - is causing the water to bubble. And when the external stimulant increases in intensity, so too does your anxiety. And sometimes, yeah, the pot boils over.â Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. âBut then you just turn the stove off, grab a dishtowel, and clean up the mess. Problem solved.â
You cracked a half-hearted smile. âSo in this metaphor, youâre a dishtowel?â You asked, curling your fingers around the fabric of his shirt.
âTechnically, I think itâs a simile, but yes,â Spencer grinned as he looked in your eyes.
âBut the book,â you sighed, looking back at the bookstore, which was still filtering people in and out slowly. The patrons leaving the store clutched their new copies of the book in their hands, grinning and taking pictures with their phones, laughing with their friends excitedly.
âDo you want to get back in line and try again?â Spencer asked, and you bit your cheek pensively.
âI donât think so,â you said softly, defeatedly.
âThatâs okay,â Spencer said. You loved that he wasnât coddling you, he was just feeling it out, seeing what you were up for. âDo you want to get brunch somewhere and come back? Maybe the line will have died down by then?â
You nodded, your lips curling into a small smile. âYeah,â you agreed. You realized your hand was still over his heart, rubbing at his chest. Your movement halted and you retracted your hand, but before your arm could fall completely at your side, Spencer scooped your hand up and kissed the back of your palm. âWhat if we come back and theyâve sold out of the book, though?â You asked as Spencer walked with you in the direction of one of your favorite brunch places, just a short walk from the bookstore.
âThere are twenty-two independent bookstores in the D.C. metropolitan area alone,â Spencer rattled off. âIf this one doesnât have it, weâll drive around until we find one that does.â
âWhat article did you read that told you how many bookstores were in D.C?â You asked. You often liked to challenge him by asking him to cite his sources.
âNo article. I did a search on Google Maps last night,â Spencer explained.
âWhat, because you knew Iâd freak out when we walked into this one?â You asked him.
Spencer shook his head. âNo, just wanted to have a contingency plan in case our first stop sold out before we got there.â
âAlways thinking ahead, huh, Boy Wonder?â
âDamn straight.â A smirk formed across Spencerâs lips.
You shook your head. âYouâre the best dishtowel a girl could ask for.â
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Boyfriends Brother (200 follower special)
18+ viewer discretion is advised
fem!reader/Suguru Geto
Warnings: infidelity, shower sex, p in v sex, creampie, exhibitionism, masturbation, semi public masturbation [someones in the room and they're unaware], finger sucking, standing up sex, Geto is hung its canon, tattooed!Suguru Geto, perverted!Suguru Geto
Word count: 3129
DESC: You like the thrill of almost getting caught with your boyfriends brother
This is what won the poll and I took some very creative liberties when writing :3
You were always attracted to Suguru. In some weird way, you found him more attractive than his brother, the brother you were dating. You met your boyfriend a few months prior in a bar, nothing special. The two of you hit it off and began to date. But he never made you feel anything like this. Sure, he was conventionally attractive, but you never lusted after him. You never felt a surge pulsate between your thighs when he was near, and you sure as hell never got wet off of his voice alone. Not to mention, your boyfriend was kind of a dick. He drank a lot, looked at other women a lot, and objectified you a lot. Yeah sure, you hit it off, but you felt trapped after the five-month mark. You didnât have any desire to stay with him and he couldnât care less, you were his personal maid and fuck toy. Suguru was different than him.Â
You first met him at a party your boyfriend forced you to go to. He smacked your ass and crudely announced, âThis is the hot piece of ass I was telling you about, Guru!â Your boyfriend's brother stared at him blankly for a moment, before turning his eyes to you. They were naturally sultry and narrowed to take in your form. He took in your uncomfortable smile and tensed shoulders, and he sighed. A hand ran up to mess with his hair, undoing it from its bun. You watched as his neck tattoo and ear gauges got covered by his thick black hair, cascading onto his shoulders in a choppy fashion.Â
âItâs very nice to meet you,â Suguru extended his hand and took yours without hesitation. You saw instantly how much bigger he was than you. His height towered over your frame and your hand was engulfed by his own. Even though he was practically huge, he shook your hand delicately. As if youâd break with one rough touch.Â
Something took over your body and you turned to your boyfriend, to look at him with innocent eyes, âBaby, can you get me a soda?â Youâd never been the devious type or even the type to consider cheating. But something new crossed your mind. You didnât think about sleeping with him like that, although you did note how utterly ethereal he was. He was perfect, down to every mole or the crook in his nose.Â
Your boyfriend rolled his eyes in a way you knew wasnât teasing and walked off, to find the bar top to get you two a drink. Once he was gone you felt yourself relax, your shoulders drooping and a breath escaping your lips. You went to apologize for his behavior, but at the same time you spoke so did Suguru, stating the same thing. He paused mid-way and blinked once, â...Why are you sorry? Heâs my brother, I should be apologizing for his upbringing⊠lack thereof.â The raven-haired male crossed his arms in an annoyed way that made you let out a faint giggle. He was right, your boyfriend had horrible manners. At first, it too made you laugh, but then it became an embarrassing pain. Your heart thumped loudly against your chest and made your ribs tighten, not to mention you felt that familiar pang in your legs. Over a joke? Really?? Well, he was hot, and he acknowledged your boyfriend's abhorrent behavior. That was truly hard to find for you. Someone who was on your side. Someone who saw you. God, it was hot. You were never the cheating type, always becoming toxically loyal to your partners. But there was something about him. You found yourself attracted to him. Thatâs when your small crush began on Suguru.Â
Obviously, you started to see him more and more. It was like your boyfriend had been hiding his more attractive brother from you for the first few weeks, but now you couldnât get rid of him. Over the next few weeks, he frequented your boyfriend's apartment, and then your shared apartment when you moved in. Heâd always make small talk with you, and more importantly, make you feel seen. It wasnât just one thing to feel attracted to him, you actually liked being around him. He was funny and sensitive; All of it was making your crush ten times worse. The crush was originally mainly and only surface level, but soon you imagined what it would be like to wake up with him next to you instead of your boyfriend. You imagined running your hands through his hair and wishing him a good morning. Kissing his eyelids until he groggily looked at you, before smiling. Your fantasies would always start wholesome, then turn dirty within seconds. You wanted him to worship your body and fuck you senseless, making you stand as you took his big, filthy, cock. He had to be large, there was no way he wasnât. Just from the sheer size of his body, you knew he was packing. You wanted him to C-hook your mouth with his index finger, slamming down your throat and making you choke on it as you came.Â
You blinked a few times and took yourself out of the vivid fantasy, making your underwear stick to your folds. Suguru was at your apartment, playing video games with his brother. They sat at the foot of the bed while you watched from your desk, while you were supposed to be doing homework. You couldnât focus, looking at Suguruâs chiseled back and his mop of hair. They were in front of you, so they didnât see your hand snake down the front of your shorts, which were just your boyfriend's grey boxers. Your fingers brushed against your clothed clit, against your sopping panties. You inhaled quietly and bit back a moan at the sensitive sensation. You had never been this bad before, to fuck yourself to Suguru with him in the same room as you. Normally, it would be late at night or in the shower. But now ⊠you felt so desperate to get off. You held the back of your hand to your mouth and bit down, to stop small noises from escaping as you rubbed your pussy.Â
âGoal!â Your boyfriend shouted, grinning at his brother, âBet you canât beat that, Guru!â Suguru went to speak, turning his head, but his eyes locked with yours. Just as you came, seeing your eyes flutter to the back of your head. He stared for a moment before shoving his brother's head and replying with a standard response you didnât hear. You were too busy, filling with dread. He just saw you fuck yourself and he just saw you orgasm. Whatâs worse, is he saw you werenât staring at your boyfriend either. You were staring at your boyfriend's brother. It was over, you were going to be outed as the perverted soul you truly were. No one had ever made you debate stealing their clothes and touching yourself to the smell of them. Not even your boyfriend.
Suguru got up and cleared his throat, âIs it okay if I shower? Iâm feeling a bit greasy,â he looked over at you and then winked. He ⊠winked. You felt your heart squeeze and your hand pulled itself out from your underwear, two fingers glistening from your wetness in the low light. Your boyfriend nodded and his brother walked back to the door, passing by you. He leaned over your frame and grabbed your hand by the wrist, letting his fingers engulf it. He smelled purely of nice cologne; Mixing with the air, it made you feel hazy. Maybe he wasnât exactly as straight-laced as you had anticipated. And maybe when he saw your display he realized he had a chance. Thatâs what you hoped for.Â
Your legs slowly clenched together, squeezing as he brought your hand up to his mouth. âSpread them, pretty girl,â he mumbled, eyeing your slicked fingers with a lustrous stare. You bit back a whimper and spread your fingers apart. Suguru brought your wet middle finger into his mouth and inserted it, closing his lips around your knuckle. He started sucking, closing his eyes, and groaning softly at the taste. You could see he was already hard and you could see him have to restrain himself from taking you then right there. It turned you on, for the fact your boyfriend was right in front of you two none the wiser. All he knew was you were doing homework and his brother was showering. But you werenât doing your homework and Suguru wasnât showering. He was busy licking up and down your middle finger, drinking up your holy liquids like it was a prayer. He finally pulled back, leaving a trail of saliva from the bottom of his lip to your fingertip. He let go of your wrist and used that hand to signal you to follow him silently, making sure your boyfriend didnât notice.Â
You stood up instantly, following him quietly. At that moment, you cut any romantic ties you had with your boyfriend. You felt nothing but contempt for him, keeping you trapped in a relationship based on the promises he always took back. At that moment, you were completely and utterly done. You didnât need your boyfriend anymore when you had a real man who could ravish and please you, romantically and sexually. The two of you made the quick walk to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, letting the door faintly close behind the both of you. In seconds his hands were on your hips, tracing them lightly with his fingers. Even his dirty touches were polite as if he didnât want to break you.
âFuck⊠Iâve wanted this so bad,â Suguru practically moaned, âHe doesnât deserve you. He canât please you like I can,â his hands slowly trailed down until they grazed your ass. His large palms smoothed your skin and then squeezed, just to hear you gasp and feel you shudder.
âSuguruâŠâ You whined against his touch, pouting your bottom lip when he kept squeezing your ass cheeks, âThis is so.. Wr-â You couldnât continue your sentence, as his lips found yours and pulled you into a heated kiss. The air felt so heavy and thick between the two of you, with your bodies pressed together in pure harmony. His mouth sucked and cradled yours, making you try your hardest to keep up. Suguru was such a skilled kisser, he was making it a bit hard. You whimpered into the kiss and pressed your hands onto his back, digging your nails into his shirt.
âFuck right or wrong,â he breathed against your open mouth, as you attempted to find his own again, âNo one deserves you. Not him,â his lips brushed against your temples, âNot even meâŠâ With that, he was kissing you again, hungrier. He needed you so badly it was causing him physical pain. His hands were now trailing inside your shirt, undoing your bra. He needed you out of these useless clothes and he needed that now. Suguru was straining against his tight pants to just be inside of you, for any kind of release. Fuck⊠your mouth wouldâve felt so good if he just let your plush lips wrap around his cock.Â
âHey, Guru??â You both heard your boyfriend shout. As quickly as Suguru was kissing and holding you, he was pushing you into the shower and closing the curtain. You fell against the tile wall and hissed at the sensation, pushing yourself up. You heard the door open and your boyfriend asked, âYo, whereâs the gf? I wanted a sandwich.â
âI think she said one of her friends invited her out. Sheâll be back later,â Suguru lied, straight-faced and through his teeth. How could he do that to his brother and not look the littlest bit guilty? I mean, he was a piece of shit so he didnât feel too bad. But this was still wrong. Oh so wrong.
âOh,â you heard him reply a bit deflated, âDo you mind if I shave then? I was growing out the beard but I donât think itâs a look.â You heard Suguru reply with a hearty laugh and then the door closed. You looked down at your clothes and began to strip, pushing them to the side of the shower. You could always pick them up later and put them in the washing machine, heâd never know. First, came your shirt and bra, then your shorts and panties. You heard a bit of shuffling behind the curtain and the raven-haired male stepped into the shower, avoiding opening the curtain too much. He gave you a sly grin and began to take off his own clothes. It was hot, seeing him remove his shirt and looking at the ink lining his skin. Dragons, snakes, spiders, webs, anything you could think of he probably had on his chest and arms. You couldnât resist and one of your hands touched the snake in the shape of a heart along his bicep. His skin was so silky and smooth, you couldâve cum then and there. He looked over at you with a different expression, almost a deer in headlights. A small blush spread from his temples down to the apples of his cheeks, and a genuine smile appeared on his mouth. The one where his eyes crinkled and closed.Â
âYou know, I think sheâs gonna leave you if you only call her the gf instead of her name,â Suguru called out, tossing his clothes over the curtain. Without giving his brother a chance to respond, he turned on the water to one of the hottest settings. You let out a faint gasp and felt as he pushed you up against the wall, pressing his mouth to yours. You didnât even get a chance to look at his dick! You bit back a loud moan and kissed him back, as water pelted both of your fronts. Two burly hands pressed your wrists on either side of your head, forcing you to endure the passion from his mouth. It turned you on in a way that felt like a fire was brewing inside of your core, burning and building, waiting for more stimulation. His hands would feel better than your own and you both knew it. Just like how your mouth could satiate his own burning craving for a release.
âYeah, right,â you could almost hear your boyfriend roll his eyes. But his voice was fading in and out of your hearing, half from the shower water and half from his brother sucking against your bottom lip. âShe couldnât leave me if she tried. My dicks too good.â Speak of the devil, you felt Suguruâs cock rub against your thigh. You didnât take the time to even check if it was okay, pulling away and putting your hand against his cock, positioning it at your entrance. He watched you with half-lidded eyes, before biting his bottom lip. You felt so warm and wet, basically being asked to be defiled.Â
âYeah, you fuck her soooo good,â Suguru replied as he thrust into your pussy, biting back a groan and shuddering at the sensation of you clenching around him. He was big and he didnât give you time to adjust as he began to fuck you, deep and slow, making sure to press his balls against your cunt, pulling out, then slamming back in. You gasped and pushed your head back against the tile, rocking your hips to the sensation. âI wonder if sheâd like me more,â he spoke as if he wasnât balls deep in your wetness. Suguru grabbed one of your legs and slowly began to lift it up to his hip, wrapping it around him. It was all to get the better angle to fuck you even deeper. You deserved the best he could ever give.
âWh⊠why do you say that?â You heard your boyfriend sound a bit ⊠jealous as he continued, âSheâs with me for a reason, dude.â You went to open your mouth to whisper something to the man fucking you dumb, but his tip touched your heavenly spot. He was hitting every curve and ridge correctly, fucking you like a princess. To him, you deserved the best fucking he could give, even if he was forced to be quiet. He didnât want you to be quiet at all, he wanted you to cry as you came every time. But these circumstances were a bit strange, even though the thrill turned you on. You could be caught at any second and completely outed as a perverted cheating creep, but you hadnât been caught yet. Thatâs what made your stomach tingle every time he fucked his leaking cock into you.
âJust a hunch,â Suguru mumbled, letting a groan slip out. You arched your back as you felt his penis rub against you in a way you fucking loved, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge. He used his free hand to stick his fingers in your mouth, making you choke on how long and large they were. You grinned and sucked on them as if your climax depended on it, which it felt as though it did. You were so close and this was so hot, and he wasnât stopping his thrusts for anything. He was just so hot. Nothing had ever turned you on this much in your life. Typically the only thing that felt good was the orgasm with your boyfriend, but everything felt good with Geto. Your mouth hung open and your tongue writhed around his fingers, whimpering as you finally came. You were too loud at that point, but you both didnât care. He fucked your wetness right back into your battered cunt, making you feel all the more sensitive as you road your high and clenched your walls around his cock. You heard some rustling behind you and then felt his thrusts reach their peak, pumping ropes of cum into your abused pussy. Suguru let out a moan as he did so, again being way too loud. He didnât stop, thrusting again and cumming even more.Â
You were so sensitive you were about to orgasm again, but you paused. Maybe he was too loud, or the smell of your sex was overpowering, but you saw the shower curtain shift. One of your hands went to tap Suguru but another orgasm took hold of you and instead of words coming out, a loud moan did. Shit. Suguru froze and heard the curtain fully open behind him and you both felt the shower stop. It was silent as you stared face to face with your now ex-boyfriend.Â
âI can ex-â You began but he cut you off.
â...Get out.â
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foolâs oil
for @steddiemicrofic prompt âfoolâ
rated t | no cw | tags: future fic, flirting, open ending but implied getting together
âââââ
Itâs been a while since Steve has had to worry about taking care of a car. When he moved to Chicago with Robin, they agreed to sell his BMW for extra money. Theyâd be taking the metro or walking everywhere anyway.
But after graduation, Robin took a job offer in Indianapolis, and where Robin goes, Steve goes.
He managed to find a decent used car when he found his studio apartment, and after the initial hit to his bank account, he found a pretty decent job that helped him get back to a somewhat comfortable balance.
The chaos of moving had been more of a distraction than he anticipated. Settling into his new job as a first grade teacher, unpacking, catching up with Joyce and Hopper, had made him forget that cars do require maintenance.
The guy at the front desk of this mechanic shop wasnât too thrilled about seeing him as soon as the door opened.
âWhatâs the hurry for an oil change?â He asked.
âItâs nearly 8000 miles past due,â Steve admitted.
âHow did that happen?â
Steve didnât like his tone.
âMy whole family died in a fire.â
The guy backed up and at least looked apologetic, even if Steve was lying through his teeth.
âWell, youâre first to go back so it shouldnât take too long, man. Our head mechanic just walked in.â
Steve nodded and walked to the seat by the window, watching as a guy with long, curly hair shoved it up into a ponytail and turned on a radio in the shop.
He leaned his head back and sighed.
Maybe he could convince Robin to move back to a big city in a few years. He forgot how much he hated the maintenance involved with owning things.
He was startled by a hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice in his ear.
âSo youâre the fool who forgot about oil changes because his family died in a fire?â Eddie Munsonâs smirk was just as annoyingly attractive as it had been four years ago in Hawkins.
âEddie? What the hell are you doing here?â Steve laughed and stood up to give him a hug.
âIâm working. What are you doing here? Thought you were in Chicago.â
âI was. Robin got a job here and I came back with her,â Steve couldnât look away from him.
Eddie had always been hot, Steve had always pretended he wasnât.
But now he was having trouble remembering why he pretended.
âSo youâre here in Indy?â
âYeah. You?â
Eddie smirked. âYeah. Thatâs why I work here.â
âRight, yeah.â Steve was embarrassing himself.
âYou got dinner plans?â
âUm.â
âYou want dinner plans?â
âWith you?â
âWith me.â
Steve nodded. âYeah. Dinner with you sounds great.â
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five more minutes [N.S]
type: short fic !
parings: nick sturniolo x male!reader
warnings: sfw, tooth-rotting fluff, lowercase intendedÂ
summary: you decide to help nick film content for their vlog first thing in the morning. you werenât very surprised however when your efforts to wake the boy up failed and he ended up drifting off back to sleep against you.Â
azulâs note !: had to cook up a lil smth after seeing the clip chris recorded of him waking up nick đ sigh heâs so cutie patootie guys i think ima gonna die
wc: 993
âŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠ
âŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠZzzâŠ
a deep inhale enters through your nose as your eyes slowly open. you blink a few times to get your eyes adjusted to the dark room youâre in, the single light coming from the nearby window helping your eyes adjust and pick out the all too familiar space around you. as you raise a hand up to rub the sleep out of your eyes, you turn over onto your other side. a small content exhale escapes your lips as your cheek hits the newfound cold side of the pillow, the comforting feeling almost lulling you to sleep right then and there.Â
after taking a moment to allow yourself to fully wake up, you pull the blanket thatâs pulled up to your nose down to your chest. as your vision clears, youâre immediately greeted by nick whoâs sleeping soundly on his back, his side of the blanket barely being on his body due to him turning about in his sleep. you canât help but smile slightly at the boy and allow your eyes to trace his delicate features for a few seconds.
in the middle of doing so, a thought quickly pops into your head and you find yourself hurriedly sitting up and leaning against the headboard. the triplets were filming yesterday for their newest vlog and nick told you that he was planning on filming first thing in the morning. since you are already wide awake, why not help him out a little? he would have more content to put in the vlog.Â
your eyes scan the bedroom for a moment before they land on the camera discarded on Nick's desk. you act quickly and slip out of bed as quietly as possible, being careful not to wake up nick especially since heâs a very light sleeper. the moment your feet hit the cold floorboards, you quickly make your way over to the desk and grab the camera. as you walk back to bed, you open the camera and immediately begin recording. as you situate yourself back under the covers, you flip the camera so youâre in the frame.
âi donât know if nicks gonna put this in the vlog but hi guys.â you greet the camera with a small smile, your voice barely above a whisper. âi thought id help nick out with vlogging this morning so hereâs me attempting to wake him up.â
as you lay on your side, you flip the camera back around so it captures nickâs sleeping frame. ânick~â you call softly. you pull your free arm out from under you with a soft grunt and extend it in front of you. you gently set your hand on the top of nickâs head and call him again, this time a little louder. ânick~ baby.âÂ
nickâs eyes open in one swift movement, his eyes immediately locking with yours. the male breaks eye contact after a moment and blindly reaches for the blanket thatâs discarded in front of him.Â
âhmph.â the brunette mumbles. you silently watch the male as he pulls the blanket over his shoulder and slowly turns over onto his stomach. as the boy buries his face into his pillow, you chuckle softly and turn the camera a little to capture him better.Â
âbaby.â you call, your voice a little louder this time.Â
âhmm?â nick hums. he lifts his head a little, his eyes ever so slightly cracking open.Â
âgood morning, my love~ did you sleep well?â
âmmph.â you laugh softly as nick returns to his previous lying position, his eyes shutting fully moments later.Â
âare you ready to vlog today, baby?âÂ
âmmphâŠâ nick sticks one of his hands out from underneath the blanket, it instantly landing on your bicep. you donât even have time to pan the camera down to capture the boyâs move before nick slides his hand to your backside and pulls himself against you.Â
âoh my God.â you mumble, a stifled giggle escaping your lips. as nick nuzzles his head into your chest with a small content hum, you pan the camera down to capture the sweet moment. âbaby~â you call, your free hand instantly going to dig in the maleâs tangled locks. as you begin to card your hand through the boys hair, nick hums again. âyou need to get up. weâre supposed to see madison later today. you donât want to be late, right?âÂ
âmmm⊠âm sleepy.â nick croaks out, his words slurring together messily.Â
âi can see that but you need to get up sweetheart.âÂ
âfive more minutes. please.â you let out a defeated exhale and hold the camera higher above you. you tilt your head up slightly to see if the two of you are in frame before glancing back down at nick. once you plant a small kiss on the crown of his head, you lower the camera back down so its positioned right behind nick.Â
âheâs always pulling the five minute shit on me.â you say to the camera.Â
âand you always go through with it.â nick mumbles. you shake your head softly at the maleâs comment before turning the camera off. as you shut it and twist your torso to set it on the nearby nightstand, you feel nicks arm wrap tighter around your middle.Â
âbaby, you're gonna crack my rib.âÂ
âyouâre so dramatic.âÂ
âreally, iâm the dramatic one?âÂ
âmhmm.â the moment you go to open your mouth to say something else, nick sets his hand over your mouth to stop you. you shut your eyes and sigh softly at the action. âyouâre disrupting my sleep with your yapping.âÂ
âalright, iâm sorry iâll be quiet.â you grumble out, your speech muffled ever so slightly. nick hums softly and removes his hand from your mouth. as you wrap your arms around the brunetteâs shoulders, the boy hides his face in your chest again. it didnât take but five seconds for you to hear soft snores from the boy against you.Â
five more minutes wonât hurt.Â
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âšStay in the Lightâš
A/N: Iâve been wanting to do a one shot based off the song âThe Night We Metâ by Lord Huron for a while, and I finally got some inspiration yesterday to write this little piece. Hope you like it đ©” Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for being my beta reader before I decided to release this out to the world đ
Summary: Joel gets injured after a raider attack, and heâs wishing he couldâve told you all the feelings he held back from you for so long
Word Count: 2.2k
Pairing: Joel x fem! reader
Rating: 18+ Only
Tags: Outbreak! Joel, Jackson! Joel, blood, angst, comfort, feelings, regrets, in both reader and Joelâs POV, no deaths, fluff (I am bad at tags, so let me know if I should add anything)
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
âWhen the night was full of terrors, and your eyes were filled with tears. When you had not touched me yet. Oh, take me back to the night we metâ
- âThe Night We Metâ by Lord Huron
The ground is cold, wet, unwelcoming with a thick puddle of crimson blood pooling beneath his worn green flannel. Large flecks of powdered snow lace through his grey threaded curls that stick to his sweaty forehead. His vision blurs, going in and out in waves as pain takes hold of his insides. He can hear Tommy screaming in the near distance, his deep voice sounding like itâs washed out beneath a wave of deep water. He can barely register it, barely hear anything, but what he does see is a bright light, an angel in disguise. He sees you.
You. The girl he shouldâve been more careful with. Your feelings, your heart, your everything. He was such an asshole ever since the first day you came walking through the front gates of Jackson. He shouldâve been nicer, shouldnât have yelled at you over petty things that were his doing and shouldnât have thrown insults your way when you were just trying to help on every patrol you were assigned to with him.
Maybe if he wouldâve been fucking nicer then maybe this wouldnât have happened. A clean gunshot to the abdomen, now bleeding out on the thick white snow beneath him. Raiders. He wasnât being careful, wasnât paying attention. No, he was fucking fixed on arguing with you. Maybe he deserves it, maybe if he wasnât such a grouch all the time then maybe none of this wouldâve fucking happened. He sure as hell doesnât deserve you. Warm, bright, gentle, kind. He was none of those things, so why the fuck were you still sitting here with him, keeping him from slipping into the thick fog of darkness?
âJoel! Stay with me, okay? Stay with me.â Your voice is so adamant, so terrified, so hurt. And it fucking kills him, destroys him. âTommy! Help him!â
Joel sees the gathering tears that burn through your beautiful eyes, sees the absolute horror thatâs coated through your knit together eyebrows, sees the pain of holding it all together just like you always do. Always so brave. His brave girlâŠ. NO. Youâre not his to keep, not his to hold, not his to tell everythingâs going to be alright. You werenât his and never would be. Not after the way heâs treated you.
He wishes you were his, but youâre not, and itâs his own damn fault for being so reckless. He shouldâve been softer, more kind, like you. He shouldâve done so many things, shouldâve told you just how he felt. How much he likes you, how much heâŠ
He winces in pain as Tommy presses down on the open wound, barely holding himself together to even keep his eyes open, but he fights. He fights for you. The girl he so desperately fell in love with over the last year, the girl he wished he treated differently. He shouldâve fucking told you, but now itâs too late. Itâs all too late.
âHey, hey. Joel, look at me. Look at me!â You grab the sides of his face, sink your delicate fingers into the scruff of his greying beard, and cling to him just enough to where maybe he wonât slip through your fingers. You canât lose him, you canât.
âJoel, open your eyes. Please, keep them open for me.â You shake his head lightly, kneel over him and let your hair fall in a heap at your side as you pray for one more day with him. âJoelâŠâ
Your voice is so sad, so desperate as you call out for him. He sees your face blur in his spotty vision, sees the glistening tears start to spill down your face. So he reaches up, musters up enough strength to wipe away the falling tears that stain your beautiful face. He thinks youâre so gorgeous, always has. Ever since you walked into his life, he knew. He knew heâd fall, and thatâs why he pushed away so strongly. He didnât want to lose you, he never wanted to. But now you were the one losing himâŠ
He holds the side of your face for just a few more seconds, just enough to finally know he got you, some part of you, if only for a minute. And that was enough for him. At least he knew what it was like to feel your soft skin slipping under the weight of his calloused fingers. That moment alone was all he wanted.
He starts to close his eyes, starts to fade away into the midst of darkness and silence, but he hears you plead to stay in the light. âStay in the light, Joel. Stay with me. Stay,â you beg. And he carries those words into the darkness with him. And then thereâs nothing but the fading words of a promise he never could keep.
Stay in the light.
He awakes slowly, hearing the buzzing sound of some medical machine he doesnât know the name of. Slowly but surely his eyes open as the harsh light from the blinding window slips against the warm sheets of the sterile bed. It takes him a second to come to himself, to know heâs not dead.
He looks cautiously down at his exposed torso, finding the tight bandage wrapped around his wound. Itâs clean, mended to, but the pain burns through his body. Every breath he breathes feels like fire in his lungs, but at least he knows heâs alive.
He feels warmth sliding through his fingertips, feels comfort bubble over his entirety. He wonders what it is, wonders what thing could ever bring him comfort until he slowly turns his head and sees you sitting there on the edge of the bed, fingers laced through his while your thumb gently glides side to side in slow circles on the back of his rough hand.
His eyes go wide, eyebrows knit together as he stares wondrously at the girl heâs been pining over since the day he locked eyes on you. You look so goddamn beautiful there with your fingers threaded through his. He can feel it deep in his gut, that fluttering feeling heâs always tried so hard to push back down, but this time he canât. He wonât. He canât ignore the voices anymore that scream your name every single night heâs in between his sheets, wishing he could just have a chance to hold you, to feel you pressed against his firm chest. And maybe he would. One day. Maybe he still had time to make you his.
You hear a faint rustling sound in the sheets and turn your face slightly to the left, expecting it to only be your vivid imagination. Your jaw drops suddenly and your eyes go wide the moment you see Joel awake, breathing, alive.
âJoel!â You turn frantically and crowd his body, locking your arms tight around the back of his neck as you inhale his deep mahogany and pine cone scent.
âOuch, take it easy!â Joel pants out as you jump back, realizing you mightâve hurt him with your body weight.
âIâm sorry, are you alright?â you ask as you assess his wound, running your fingers lightly over the bandaged area. He winces a little as you smooth out the edges, but he just hums in response.
âIâm fine. Jusâ calm down, will ya?â
You gently smile at him and brace your hands on the fitted sheets, just barely grazing your skin over his warm, sweaty body. Your eyes scan over his bare chest as you take in the coarse hair that covers his broad chest, watching the way the cool sweat glazes over tanned skin. You think he looks so beautiful, even after a gunshot wound. Youâve never seen him bare chested, and it surprises you what it makes you feel inside. Warmth.
âYou came back to the light,â you whisper out, grazing your fingertips across the back of his hand as he stares wide-eyed at you, honey eyes so intense that you swear theyâre about to split you in half. âI was so scared, Joel. You scared me half to death!â
He just watches you, eyes wading into yours like a violent tidepool about to drag you into the crashing waves, but thereâs a fondness to them, a slight gleam in his eyes as he assesses you. Slow, curious, eyes that look like they might shed a tear.
âYou⊠you saved my life today.â His tone is somber, his honey eyes wild as you see tears lick the surface, but he wonât dare shed them. Not in front of you. Thatâd be too vulnerable.
âMhm. If Tommy wasnât there, I donât know how I wouldâve ever gotten you up on that saddle alone. But we did it. We made it in time. I was so scared we were too late. You werenât⊠you werenât really breathing. Even the doctor was worried you wouldnât make it. Youâre a⊠well, a miracle.â
His face turns pale, lips parted solemnly as he breathes and lets oxygen back into his tired lungs. âWhy did you save me?â
His words surprise you as you furrow your eyebrows and shift your weight slightly on the bed so youâre facing him. âWhat do you mean?â Your words come out shaky, appalled. What did he mean why did you save him?
âWhy did you save me?â His honey eyes bore into yours, fingers flexing around the white sheets as he just stares with flared nostrils.
You place a hand gently on top of his warm hand as he tries to pull away, but you donât let him. âBecause I think youâre worth saving.â
His plush lips tremble, his eyes blowing wide as he takes in your quiet words. He looks like he wants to say something, looks like heâs fighting with himself in his mind, but he just stares unblinking, taking in the soft way you look at him.
Finally, he clears his deep voice and rasps out a response. âIâm not worth saving.â His eyes look so sad, defeated, and you wish you could take away all his pain. Physical and emotional, youâd take it all on if it meant he could have one single day where he didnât wear the weight of the entire world on his tired back.
You lean forward as you hear the creak of the old bed and place your hand gently on his bare chest, feeling the bristles of coarse dark hair running down his tanned skin. âI think you are, Joel.â
He gulps, arms fidgeting beneath you as you see him fight with himself, battling the demons of reaching out or letting you slip through his grasp. He finally finds the courage to slowly, steadily crawl his hand up the side of his chest, then ever so softly places it on top of yours.
âLook, Iâm sorry. Iâm sorry for beinâ a jerk to you the past year. I was a real asshole, and thereâs no excuse for the way I treated you. I think about it every single night, think about how I shouldâve done better, how I shouldâve tried harder because I⊠IâŠâ Joel winces in pain as he tries to sit up, but you push him back down easily and try to get him to stay still.
âHey, careful there. Itâs okay, Joel. ItâsâŠâ
âNo, please let me finish.â You nod your head and he continues with a low grunt through gritted teeth. âI shouldâve been nicer to you. And I want to apologize for everything Iâve ever done, every hurtful thing Iâve ever said to you. I didnât mean it, not really. Iâve jusâ⊠Iâve been goinâ through a lot, but thatâs no excuse. Because I shouldâve told you how I felt about you, not pushed you away. You see, the thing is⊠well, thing is I like you, darlinâ. A lot. Youâre so fuckinâ beautiful and those eyes, that smile. IâŠâ
You cut him off as you lean forward and crash your lips into his, letting his warmth overwhelm you as you slip into him. His tongue tastes like coffee, his skin smells of freshly cut firewood, and he feels so good in the palm of your hand. He surrounds you in something like warmth, ecstasy, something youâve wanted to feel for so long. He glides his thick fingers through your hair and pulls you closer as he gets lost in you, overwhelming your senses until all you can smell, hear, feel is him. It feels so right, this feels right. You almost forget heâs injured until he grunts and shifts his weight to the right.
You quickly let go of the kiss and lean back, assessing if heâs alright, but heâs smiling. Warm, bright, glowing. Youâve never seen him like this, like heâs the happiest man in the world. Itâs that twinkle in his chocolate irises that gets you, and you finally know that this is where you belong. In Jackson, with him.
He guides a strand of hair behind your ear and cups the side of your face as his warm, calloused thumb grazes gently across your cheekbone. âYou kept me in the light, sweetheart. Youâre exactly what I needed all along, I jusâ wish I didnât wait so long to find the light.â
You sigh and smile. âItâs okay, Joel. You found it. You found me.â
âYou gonna keep the light on for me, sweetheart?â
âForever, if you want me to.â
He pulls you back in and grazes lightly over your lips as he whispers out, âForever it is.â
Tagging some friends who might be interested đ @sawymredfox @burntheedges @littlevenicebitch69 @keylimebeag @vivian-pascal @rav3n-pascal22 @princesatracionera @bbyanarchist @amyispxnk @pedrostories @syd-djarin @msjarvis @untamedheart81 @survivingandenduring
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