#I am genuinely so close to snapping and tearing myself apart one of these days

[redhotarsenic]

“Well I’m anxious and stressed and sick all the time and I go to work every day so I don’t have any sympathy for you how dare you use that as an excuse but we care about your wellbeing though :) but shame on you also”

[sleepygamerotaku]

~|Your Hoodie...|~{Part One}

Paring:

Scaramouche X Reader

Prompt:

none

Content Warnings:

angst, cuss words, violence(?), crying, mental breakdown(s), implied established relationship, tue story is written in a first person POV, lmk if i missed anything

Reader pronouns:

not specified (read in first person)

Authors note:

I have been working on this since July 25th of this year... i Have gotten nowhere close to finishing it so i decided to break it up into chapters. this is Chapter one of a -however many parts it takes me to finish this shit- part story. This was inspired by the song Hoodie by Hey Violet! i have cried FAT crocodile tears whenever i would try writinrg onto this so there's that i suppose... Whenever i finish them i will post the next chapters here! might do Scara's POV later on but idk-

❈~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~❈

"You dumbass..." He hissed. Scaramouche always said that me... But he always said it a lighter, semi-playful tone. He never truly meant it. But this time... It was mean. He said it with genuine anger, evidently clear in his voice. The same voice that always teased me... The same voice that lulled me back to sleep whenever i had a nightmare... The same exact voice that gave me butterflies.

The same exact voice I used to love, now filled with hatred and anger. I know he had a short temper. I accepted that the day we met. "You never shut up... And you don't listen either..." He heaved at me again, the tone of his voice was still angry... Because he wasn't just angry... He was infuriated. Infuriated at me. I felt the tears as they stung the corner of my eyes. I didn't bother wiping them away as they rolled down my cheeks.

I've witnessed him snap before. But he's never snapped at me... "I'm... Just... FUCKING DONE WITH YOU!"

He quickly turned around and punched the wall. I thought he going to punch me, so instinctively i flinch, a small squeak escaping my lips as well. I gulp and with all my strength i muster his name. "S-scara-" He simply growled in response, cutting me off. "I CAN'T DEAL WITH YOU ANYMORE!!"

......... And just like that... He stormed out of the door without another word.

I held my hands close to my chest and i let myself fall to the floor. I begin to sob uncontrollably while i clutch onto my shirt and let the crocodile tears fall, and fall, and fall. I continue to cry and screaming in the middle of the living room floor.

I guess he just doesn't love me anymore... I annoyed him too much... I knew i was just a burden to him... Did he even love me to begin with..? Did he mean it when he said he loved me..? Did he mean it when he said he trusted me..? Did he simply take pity on me so he didn't have to see me being pathetic..?

The negative thoughts flowed as quick as my tears and i didn't know what to do... So i kept sobbing. I kept sobbing until it hurt my cheeks. I wiped away the tears and sat there trying to calm down and fully comprehend whatever just happened...

After i calmed down i stood up and glanced at the digital clock on the coffee table. It read [ 1 : 17 AM] usually me and Scara would be asleep in our shared bedroom by now... but he stormed out of the apartment so he wasn't there anymore.

The bed never felt so empty before... I got comfortable underneath the covers but i couldn't fall asleep for awhile... I was too worried about Scaramouche... Was he okay? Where is he going to sleep tonight? Is he even going to be home by tomorrow? He said he couldn't deal with me anymore so i wondered if he would come back. Slowly, drowsiness began to consume me before i finally fell into a slumber...

(~Time-skip~)

I feel my eyes flutter open and the light of the sun seeped through the windows of the bedroom. Last night was playing on repeat in my mind. It's all i can think about.

"You never shut up... And you don't listen either... I'm... Just... FUCKING DONE WITH YOU!"

I thought of Scaramouche's irritated voice and cruel words that he directed at me. I didn't even realize i was crying and hugging his pillow until my tears fell on my hand. There really isn't a reason for me to still be upset over all of this.

I slide out of bed and stand up. I don't move i just stand at the side of my bed. No thoughts filled my mind i simply stood there. My eyes slowly wandered around the room before setting on my closet door.

I heaved a heavy breathe and started walking. I might as well change out of the clothes i was wearing now. I don't have anything better to do anyways. Scara isn't here anymore and i don't even know if he will come back. He probably hates me now...

I slide open the closet door and look at all the clothes i have. but there was another half of clothes that weren't mine.

inside the closet was Scaramouche's hoodie that he always wore. he would wear it all day and put it away before bed... he must be so cold without it...

I reach out my hand and rub the arm of the soft hoodie before taking it off it's hanger and putting it to my nose. it still smells like his cologne...

"GODDAMNIT-!!"

i let myself fall to the floor and cry even more. It felt like i was drowning. His scent filled all of senses and left me numb, just as he did before he left.

After some minutes of crying i sit up. My phone was still lying on the nightstand so i rise to my feet and slip his hoodie on. After walking towards my phone and click Scara's contact photo, which was one of the times i ever made him laugh... He was smiling so warmly.... i was the only one he ever smiled at like that... with such genuine love and happiness...

i start typing ; Scara are you alright??? Are you still mad at me? ; and click send. i pull his hoodie to my nose again... i miss him so much. i feel tears begin to well in my eyes as i start chewing on the hoodie strings. i glance back to my phone screen... He left me on read... i pick my phone back up and lie down with it over my face.

i call him and put the speaker to me ear. it rang... and rang... then beeped. he didn't answer me... of course he would still be mad at me. why wouldn't he be. i screwed up bad. I don't blame him. i try to call again but he didn't answer this time either... why is the world so cruel like this?

Why did he hate me so much? Why did he leave? what if he never comes back? what if he completely resents me and has been faking it from the start? what if- *bing!*

💜Scara💜

I'm Sorry.

I'm coming back. Wait for me inside.

[bibbykins]

Insufferable

A/N: The long-awaited flashback is here! It's short, but it is here! I hope this can really show the turning point in Jungkook's and MC's relationship and I would love to hear everyone's thoughts. As usual, tips are not required but greatly appreciate. Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful day/night!

Note: This is a part (specifically a flashback) of The Household's Bunny series, so I recommend reading at least the Prologue before this one

Word count: 3.6k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader

Summary: Roommates are bound to have arguments, especially when one of them is as temperamental as Jungkook, but you didn't expect the first argument to get so unbelievably personal.

Warnings: abandonment issues, mommy issues, allusions to past abuse, family issues, crying, yelling, vomiting, panic attack, exhaustion, some soft yandere thoughts, some possessiveness, jungkook is mean and the MC gets a little mean too

There was something so constricting about memories of a shitty childhood. There were times when looking in the mirror felt like searching for the child in you so you could give her the hug she desperately needed. There were times when waking up felt like a check to make sure you were no longer in the home you had to grow up in far too quickly. However, the comfort of being in a different home only came so far when you didn't have anyone beside you or even emotionally available enough to talk to.

You stayed in bed for hours before it felt like a good idea to move, almost waiting for the mirage of change to fade before it brought you back to the gym with your mom or your uncle's apartment littered with whiskey bottles and leaky tear ducts.

Sometimes putting your best foot forward each day felt so hard with all-consuming loneliness clinging to your heels.

You had started your day going through your memory box. Hindsight said that was a poor idea. The box was a sure way to get you into a bad mood. You liked to think you breezed past all the stages of grief, but just because you accepted reality didn't make it hurt any less. The box was a strong reminder of that much as it sat with a melancholic aura. The creme color faded and the thorned vines connected to roses only added to the malicious undertones of its existence to your mental health. It was full of childhood photos, your birth certificate, school achievements, and the last known address your mom had.

Ah, your mom. What a way to bring clouds to your sunny day. You don’t know why you put yourself through the turmoil of the memory box. Maybe you were hoping it would be easier by now. You were always wrong. Looking through childhood photos and finding no love in the eyes of your mother when she looked at you and watching the love in your uncle’s eyes fade with your mother’s presence. You got to the fated birthday card, thumb rubbing over the defunct address longingly. You held the envelope in your hand, inspecting the birthday card she sent you. Three words in the repetitive note written on the inside caught your eye, and not the ones you so desperately wanted from her.

Feeling a familiar pressure behind your eyes, you tossed the card aside and stood. It was time to eat, go on a walk, do anything other than this. You found your way to the kitchen and came across a silent and solemn Jungkook. His jaw was clenched, but it felt like it always was around you.

Your relationship with Jungkook so far was not very complicated, in the way it was nonexistent. He either didn’t care about talking to you or he actively didn’t want to, you really couldn’t tell. This didn’t stop you from trying, though. Like an idiot.

“I’m making food, did you want any?” You asked from your place seated on the couch, and the silence that was his response for deafening, “Okaaaay.” You sang awkwardly, “I just know that you usually don’t eat throughout the day and-”

“And what do you know?!” He snapped, blinded by his pure and unbridled, but most important unprovoked, rage of you. Your eyes widened and your body jumped. Holy shit, you had never heard him yell like this, “You don’t know anything about me, or in general, so just stop trying so fucking hard!” He was harsh in his tone and it lit your whole nervous system on fire. What the hell did you do to him?

You shook your head, not sure why he was yelling about, but it made your throat feel like it was going to close, “Look, I was just trying to be polite, but you don’t need to talk about me like you understand-”

“Understand?! What’s there to understand?” He challenged, eyes wide like he was expecting you to say something but he continued, “You’re some spoiled girl living here rent-free because your precious dad doesn’t want to take care of you.”

Your heart caught in your throat as it shattered. He was right, your dad didn't want to take care of you, but not in the way he thought. Why was he doing this? Has he genuinely felt this way all along? Was he just holding in his anger until you poked the bear a little too hard? “You don’t need to yell at me.” You stated firmly and it seemed to only make things worse.

“And you don’t need to fucking be here in the first place!” He spoke, temper long lost and you could hear his voice mix in with Jungyoon’s, all he needed was a bottle of whisky and a set of calloused hands, “You didn’t need to fucking live here-”

“You don’t know anything about me.” You spat out. Now, you were losing your temper. You could take a beating, but for only so long, especially as an adult, "And it's not like you're paying rent either, so what do you know about me or my living arrangements?" You hissed and you watched his eyes flare, making you nearly regret your provocation.

“No, but I know how you look naked-”

“Fuck you.” You spit the word out at him, something you haven’t done to another person for a while “Don’t weaponize my work or play a game that you absolutely will lose.” You warned, “I know all about you, and I can use that, because you’ve been a star since you were 15, and that sucks, that makes you mad, doesn’t it?” Your temper effectively lost as you ripped into the rage-filled man before you, “Yet you don’t know anything about me, and that must piss you the fuck off, huh?” You stood from the couch, tears building in your eyes before you could stop it.

“I know enough, spoiled rich girl.” He seethed and you laughed humorlessly at this worldwide pop star calling you spoiled and rich.

“Not only are you wrong, but you’re also a poor listener.” You shot back, “I’ve told you all before Jungyoon isn’t my fucking dad, he’s my uncle.” His mouth opened but you cut him off before he could start, “He can’t stand the sight of me so he travels for work.” Your tears are undoubtedly falling, but you can’t stop, “And you’re talking to me like this because what? You had a scandal or something?” You gave him his chance to talk and boy, he took it.

“Mona told me you know your mom.” His voice was like venom, “So, why the fuck are you here? You have your blood relatives.” He exaggerated the word like it meant anything to you, “Why are you here, disrupting our lives, acting like an innocent orphan girl around actual fucking orphans-”

“I never said I was or acted like an orphan!” You exclaimed incredulously before scoffing, “That’s why you’re mad? Because you never knew your mom and I did? Because I know who my blood family is?” You could laugh at how ridiculous that was, “I know them, so what? Where does that get me?” You looked at him expectantly but he didn’t talk, “I knew my mom, and guess what? She just didn’t fucking want me.” He was silent, but you still couldn’t stop, “I’m sure if your mom could’ve got to know you, she would’ve kept you, because you’re not insufferable to be around, you’re just a fucking asshole.” You wiped at your cheeks furiously, “But me? I had 15 years to prove myself and it still wasn’t enough. I still wasn’t enough. Jungyoon never wanted me either, he got stuck with me and had to cope.” Your voice began to break and you had to take a breath, “I was the insufferable one, so-” You stopped, finally as you regained your sense of reality and watched Jungkook who had an unreadable expression and the realization of the word vomit you spilled out to him hit you like a train as you exhaled quickly, rage in your voice quickly replaced with soft melancholy “I am the insufferable one here, so there.” You shrugged, face a wet mess, “Hope that brings you peace.” Your stomach was churning as you turned on your heel, unable to hold in your sobs. You couldn’t bear the awkwardness of waiting for the elevator so you opted to take the stairs.

You sobbed louder as the door slammed shut behind you, but you didn’t want to linger so you bolted down the stairs, the bile in your stomach signaling that you needed to find the nearest trashcan and quickly. You made it to the ground floor and spilled your guts into the small trashcan. Yelling always made you unbelievably ill, whether it was getting yelled at or yelling, the sickness it made you feel overflowed. The yelling only reminded you of-

You vomited again at the mere thought. You cried harder when you finally finished, breathing becoming staggered as you began to panic.

Fuck, they’re gonna kick you out, and then you’ll be alone again. You lost your temper, people don’t like other people who lose their temper. Why couldn’t you just mind your own fucking business and leave him be? You’re stupid. Why do you think you’ve been alone all your life? It’s because people don’t want to be near you. You’re-

“Insufferable.” You mumbled, numb, even if for only a moment.

Sure, Jungkook provoked you, but you knew better. You didn't go to therapist after therapist throughout your adolescence for nothing. You felt as if you set yourself back eons after that outburst. He didn't need to know all that about you, ever. He probably didn't even care to know, and you said it anyway, like you were gunning for gold in the trauma Olympics. You didn't want to minimize his struggles, you just wanted him to shut up and stop yelling at you. You let your eyes flutter closed as you cried. How can you complain about being alone when you're like this?

You don’t know how long you stayed there, sitting next to a trash can full of your vomit as you wallowed in your self-hatred. The all-consuming loneliness the boisterous house subdued returning with full force. Jungkook was right. You didn’t need to be here. You were only disrupting their routine.

You blew out a sigh as you staggered to the elevator, fully set on going up to your room and crying yourself to sleep after you clean up. You brought the trashcan with you, not having the heart to just leave your puke down there. You thanked your lucky stars when Jungkook was no longer on the second floor as you went to the kitchen and rinsed your mouth before going to take out the trash and take out your burnt oven pizza. Finally, you were headed back up to your floor. You watched the numbers tick by with tired eyes. You glared at the empty trashcan, electing to take it with you instead of making the trip back down to put it back. Surely, they wouldn’t need it for a few hours.

The elevator dinged as you grabbed the black plastic bin and then you were met with Jungkook. Relief flashed across his face before irritation settled on it, “Where the fuck were you?!” He asked hurriedly as you trudged past him, too exhausted to fight. You were running on autopilot the whole way up here, and you couldn’t bear another spat.

“I was on the first floor.” Your voice was low, trying to communicate you were done arguing as you lifted the bin as proof. You then set it down and went to your bathroom and began brushing your teeth.

He scoffed, “You were on the first floor for 30 minutes?” He asked as if he caught you in a lie but you nodded as you rinsed your mouth.

You were down there for thirty minutes? No wonder you felt so tired.

“Yep.” You popped the last letter before correcting yourself, “Well, I spent like 10 minutes cleaning up that bin, so not exactly.”

“Why?” He asked as if you were being ridiculous, as if he wasn’t the one on your floor demanding answers.

“I vomited.” You spoke simply and before he could ask, “Yelling makes me puke.” You were so blase about it he sighed in frustration.

You walked to your room and froze when you saw your memory box strewn about, and it was like a dam broke all over again. You looked at the photos, at the eager little girl looking for love in places she would never find it.

Old habits die hard.

Before you could even stop yourself, you sunk to your knees in garbled sobs and broken cries, “Hey, hey, wait.” Jungkook’s shaky voice did nothing to bring you back to reality as you cried. His hands placed themselves on your shoulder, making you flinch violently, much to his horror.

Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know why you were crying, but he knew it was his fault, at least in part. Even if at this moment it wasn’t, his outburst surely didn’t help. Fuck, he’s so dumb. Fuck, he shouldn’t have talked to Mona just moments before seeing you.

The envy of even seeing your own mother’s face ate up at him and he took it out on you. Not to mention that he made you vomit from the yelling. He suddenly felt more like an arrogant asshole than he did before as his hands now hovered over your form and he took a moment to look at your room.

Scattered on the floor were childhood photos and ribbons from competitions. Things Mona kept in her own house, having a whole wall filled with every one of their achievements. Even Jin had a photo album of their things. And you, you kept all these for yourself. You were the only one who cared enough to save these things and he wondered how much you threw away to maintain space in the small empty box. Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this.

You sighed shakily, “You can just go.” You cried, “You don’t have to be here.” You don’t know what he could possibly gain from watching you cry.

“I know.” His voice was calm, even, “Can I help you up?” He asked and you wanted to look up at him in confusion but you didn't want him to see your tears.

You both had just ripped into each other, and here he was, wanting to help you. Why would he do that? Why would he stay when he doesn't have to? Why would he want to help you up after a fight?

Too tired to even think about questioning him and no longer angry at him, you simply scoffed, “Can you?” You sighed, not having the energy to stroke his ego and stand up without his help.

You never let people bear your dead weight, not wanting the awkwardness if they couldn’t carry you, but right now, you just wanted to lay down.

He snorted lightly, happy to hear anything other than a sob for you, “Don’t worry about me, you just cry and mind your business.” He spoke lightly, and the comment made you fight a smile. Then, he lifted you with so much ease, you figured he was trying to show off as he placed you on the bed. He looked at you after he sat on the floor before his eyes caught onto the gold foil of a 16th birthday card. You were wiping at your face as he read the card against his better judgment.

I know you must be confused, and I can’t help that. I wish I could pretend to be a mom, but I can’t. I can’t be your mom, and I never should have tried. It would be best if we forgot each other. I just can’t keep pretending, and I know you can see it, even if you don’t want to.

I’m so tired.

-Mom

Now, he felt even more like an asshole. He also felt a little bit angry that your mother could just leave you behind without so much as saying sorry. She wrote like she was a teenager and you were her mother. She obviously didn't put much thought into the seemingly last message to her daughter and it made his heartbreak for you, “That was the last I heard of her.” You snapped him from his thoughts and he looked at your puffy face, “She had left months earlier, and then I got that, but she moved before I could try to see her one more time.” There was a distant ache in your words as you looked at Jungkook sitting amongst your memories.

“Is she… still alive?” He asked, not sure why he felt the need to know.

“Not sure, but it doesn’t make much of a difference, I guess.” You blew out a sigh, before looking at your papers and folded posterboards, “I was cleaning out my memory box, and I’m not sure why I do it when I know it just upsets me.” You could still feel tears leaking from your eyes as Jungkook picked up a photo of you on your 14th birthday, posed between Jungyoon and your mom. You had a bright smile on your face and they looked at the camera with a tight expression, “You can really see how much they didn’t want to be there, but that's the happiest they look in all of the photos.”

He wanted to say you were wrong, but he could see it. He could see the happy little girl trying to make up for the unhappy adults around her. He knew he should’ve asked Mona why Jungyoon didn’t try to call or visit or why she was so eager to take you in if you knew your family. He should’ve just known better. Yeah, he understood how it felt to be alone growing up, they all did, but by the time they were all 17 they had a home that wanted them. You were going to graduate from college soon and you still felt unwanted.

No thanks to him.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted and you looked at him with wide eyes, “For being an asshole, I’m sorry- and for making you cry. I just…” He shrugged, “You’re right. I was jealous you knew your mom and I already was suspicious of you and I- I’m dumb, and I’m sorry.” He looked at you, eyes a bit glossy and you wondered when was the last time someone apologized for making you cry.

“It’s okay.” You smiled weakly, “You are dumb, but that’s okay.” You chuckled when he frowned, but eventually, he also broke into a short laugh, “I think… we’ve felt a lot of the same things in different ways, so I can’t blame you.” He wondered how you could be so forgiving, and he was scared of how many times that has gotten you hurt, “I like living here and I like all of you, so I hope I can get you all to like me too, even if just a little.”

“Don’t accept less than you deserve.” He spoke firmly before he started picking up your memory box, putting things neatly back in.

“Wh-”

He waved his hands nonchalantly, “You, sleep, I’ll clean this up and order some food.” He didn’t look at you as he said this, mostly to hide his blush, "If...If you want, I can give this to Jin. He has a whole place he keeps our stuff like this… he's really sentimental." He stumbled, still refusing to look at you.

However, he jumped when he heard you hiccup a cry. Ready to apologize, Jungkook was just about to turn to look at you until he heard you speak, "That… That sounds very sweet of you to do." You wiped a sentimental tear away as the blushing boy remained frozen.

"It's Jin's hobby, not mine." He deflected before waving his hand at you, "Sleep, I said." He frantically demanded.

You could see his ears getting red and you smiled, “Yes, sir.” You mocked in your work voice and made him freeze for a moment as you erupted into giggles while he whined, “Okay, okay, I’ll sleep.”

Eventually, you surrendered to your exhaustion as he delicately put away your papers and photos. He hummed lightly, smiling as he came across your debate team awards. No wonder he lost the fight before it even started. He turned around after lifting the box and sighed almost dreamily as he watched your sleeping face. You were beautiful, delicate, and puffy from the tears. He had the urge to keep apologizing for being such an asshole, but after looking through your achievements and your photos, he resolved to just keep proving it.

He wouldn’t let you get hurt again. Not by him or anyone, especially your mother, even Jungyoon was on thin ice.

His blood boiled at the thought of your mother for a reason he couldn’t understand. His hand extended shakily as he pulled the covers up to your shoulder and you hummed contently, making his heart melt a bit at the little smile you had. He wouldn’t fuck up with you again, not like this. He would be nice, at least a little, and first and foremost, he would order food you liked.

He froze.

Fuck, what food do you like?

He relaxed. Well, he could just ask the guys.

Fuck, they’re gonna ask questions.

Fuck, they’re gonna kill him when they found out he made you cry.

He looked back at your sleeping form, not having the heart to wake you up. He sighed, looks like he’ll just have to bite the bullet. He dreaded each moment as he quickly made an untitled group chat with the guys since you were added to their original one. He could only hope Taehyung wouldn’t change the group chat name to something stupid.

Tip Jar

[boldlyvoid]

New Romantics | Part Four

18+

Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.

Categories: Fake dating, neighbours, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, Angst with a happy ending, Smut *as selected by my poll on what you wanted to read*

Warnings: Season 9 Spencer (no Maeve arc), Angst, kissing, drinking, police training mentions, case details, canon typical violence, self-doubt, autistic!spencer, age gaps (24/33), FWB relationships, anxiety attacks, crying, misunderstandings, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, Perv!Spencer low-key, public sex, quickies, multiple orgasms,

Word Count: 5k

a/n: what could possibly go wrong next?

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | epilogue

She’s been asleep barely 2 hours when he shakes her awake, “Hey, when did you need to get ready today?”

“Uh?” She sits up and rubs her eyes, “we don’t have to leave until 1 so, like 11?”

“It’s 8:30, did you want to stay and sleep more?”

She looks at him and sighs, “are we okay?”

He nods, “can we just call it even?”

“Sure,” she agrees without knowing what she did wrong. It was more than just snapping on Tuesday, which is what she was still hurt over. “But I’m going to go, I need to change and stuff.”

“Yeah,” he nods but his smile is sad and she knows she’s fucking it up more.

She gets out of his bed, once it was the warmest bed she’s ever known. Any bed she shared with him was, but now it felt cold and uninviting and there was an unspoken knowingness that they were both genuinely upset.

“I’m still your fake girlfriend for the next 24 hours… can we make them count?” She asks, avoiding eye contact so he can't see her cry if he says no.

“Come here?”

She gets back into the bed and she cuddles into his chest. He holds her for a moment, “you’ve been the best girlfriend in the whole world. Do you really still want to be friends after this? Have I fucked up that bad?”

“Oh honey,” she places a hand on his cheek and looks at him softly, “I will be your neighbour, your best friend, your co-worker, carpool buddy, coffee friend, girlfriend, whatever you need as long as you’d like to have me around.”

He remembers the first time she said that and she knows because his smile is the same. “I love you.”

It hurts, “I love you, too.”

She kisses him quickly, attempting to pull back when his fingers grip her hair and his tongue is on her lips and she’s following his lead again.

“No,” she whispers, “I can’t.”

“Oh,” he stops and his hands drop to his sides so she can get back up.

“I’m going to go get ready, but I’ll come back when I’m done?”

“Yeah,” he nods again.

It breaks her heart to get up and go, she grabs her shoes and she sneaks out of his room, finding her keys in her pocket, she opens her own door and cries the second the door closes.

She cries in the shower, she cries while fixes her hair, she cries while she has lunch. Every song reminds her of the situation, every section of her apartment reminds her of him, the stupid door where they first kissed is closed and she wishes he was stable enough to bang on it and demand an answer.

Whatever was going on between them was reaching a bubbling over point, she can only store so much emotion before she explodes on him.

As soon as she is in her dress, makeup on and ready to go, she walks into his apartment to find him struggling with his bowtie, it makes her smile for the first time since she left his room this morning, “need help?”

“Yes, please.”

She walks over to him and repeats the same movements he attempted, making the bow look pretty before smoothing her hands over his dress shirt and looking up at him. “Handsome as ever.”

“You’re always beautiful,” he compliments her right back but his voice is still as sad as the night before.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on in there?” She pries, tapping his temple with her index finger, “you’re my best friend and I don’t like seeing you sad.”

“I heard what you said yesterday,” he whispers, “about how if you were just using someone you would have picked Derek.”

“And?” She doesn’t get why it’s a big deal because it makes perfect sense to her in her mind.

“And it hurt me,” he snaps, “quite a lot!?”

And the dam breaks.

“Because I proved to them that I’m not using you? Spencer do you know what I meant by that?” She snaps right back.

“What else could it mean?! Clearly I’m not hot enough for you to just fuck and toss aside—”

“I meant that I love you and that’s why I’m with you! If I was just using someone for a job then I’d fuck Derek cause he’s a one and done, toss them to the side and never see them again, kind of guy!”

“And?” He repeats her word choice in a snippy tone that makes her furious but she knows he’s just trying his best to understand her.

She sighs loudly and obnoxiously, “and you’re a take him to meet your mom, marry and have his babies, love him for the rest of your life and one day scatter his ashes, kind of lover.” Crying by the end, she wipes her tears and tries to stay somewhat presentable-looking.

He’s silent, eyes wide as he takes in all her words, “I have always loved you,” she adds, “and no matter how fucking angry I am or how stressed or upset, I am never going to stop loving you, Spencer.”

“Me either,” his tone is still just as upset, “and that's the part that sucks.”

“What do you mean?” She just poured her heart out to him and he still doesn’t get it.

“I LOVE YOU!” He screams it at her with his hands thrown in the air, “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire fucking life and it’s driving me crazy!”

“It’s driving you crazy?” She can’t help but laugh like she’s losing her mind, “I have been doing everything in my power to make you understand that I love you and you keep thinking I just want to be friends!”

“Because you said you loved me like a friend the first time?!”

“No, I fucking didn’t!” She is so frustrated she’s turning the same colour as her dress, steaming from her ears like a cartoon character.

“I asked if best friends can be in love because I wanted to see if you would say you loved me more than that, and then you fucking said “yeah cause that’s how I love you” which means you love me as a friend?!”

“Because I thought that’s what you wanted?!”

She can’t rub her eyes cause she’ll ruin her makeup but she is so mad she just wants to scream. Pressing her fingers to her own temples, she turns away from him and sighs, she loves him so much and yet this is the most frustrating thing that’s ever happened.

“You are so lucky,” she just laughs, shaking her head back and forth as she turns back to him, “you are so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Why?”

She wraps her arms around his middle and looks up into his eyes with one last sigh, “we have to go or we’ll be late, so I can’t explain all of my feelings right now, so let’s bench this conversation and I can show you just how much I love you when we get back?”

“Okay,” he nods. He rests his hands on her arms and he looks down with the softest glance, he’s still trying so hard to not cry. “I’m really sorry.”

“So am I, I should have listened to you better and explained myself more,” she whispers, “do you believe me now?”

He nods, “I told you, it’s hard for me.”

“I tried my best to be subtle so I didn’t scare you off, but I guess you really don’t do subtle?” She can’t help but laugh, “but I really do love you.”

His hands are on her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss, she melts against him. He breathes her in, it’s the longest and deepest kiss she’s ever had and she honestly feels like he’s taking her soul and making her his. She belongs to him and she knows it, now he does too.

“I love you, too.”

—

All eyes are on her and it makes him smile, she’s the only one in a red dress in a room full of black and white, she stands out like a sore thumb. She looks the most beautiful, she stands beside Spencer with her arm wrapped around his and a huge smile on her face, it makes him even happier to see her smile again.

The hardest part of fighting with her was knowing she was upset and that he was only making it worse. Seeing her smile return is everything to him, he loves her more than words can express and she loves him right back, he can tell by the way she smiles at him; because it’s exactly the same way he’s smiling at her.

“I see that you’ve made up,” Derek interrupts their current dance to say hello.

The BAU team was always so busy on nights like this, they had all the best stories and everyone wanted to hear them, which meant they typically didn’t see each other a lot for the whole night.

“We did,” Spencer smiles. “Thank’s Derek.”

She looks up at them both, confused, “how many of them know?”

“Huh?” He plays dumb but she can see right through him.

“Do they all know I’m not really your girlfriend or is it just Aaron, Derek and whoever else you told?”

“Elle,” he says her name. “I told the first girl I slept with that I was falling in love with you because I needed advice from someone who has already been with me and knows how I get.”

“Sick, cool, love that for you,” she smiles and walks away.

He grabs her and she stops, “I told you how much it hurt that I had no one to talk to and you told all of them? And you couldn’t even tell me you really loved me this whole time? I thought we were best friends Spencer?” She shakes her head, disappointed more than anything, swatting his hand off her as he reaches to stop her.

“Let her go, she’s right to be a little mad,” Derek holds him back. “let her be mad.”

“Why?” Spencer is so new to relationships he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“She wants to be your girlfriend for real, let her calm down and then go apologize and ask her,” Derek's smile is sweet as he pulls Spencer into a hug.

It slowly becomes a dance, everyone is used to Derek being touchy with his friends, he has danced with everyone so far tonight so it’s only fair Spencer has a turn. Spencer holds him tight, eyes closed so he doesn’t have to think about all the attention he’s been getting since they arrived.

“Thank you for always being here for me,” he whispers, “but I have to go see her.”

“Fights like this just make your relationship stronger, it teaches you how she wants you to communicate, she just wants you to be honest with her, always,” he whispers with his cheek pressed to Spencer's, “and angry make-up sex is really fun.”

It makes him laugh, “thanks, but she won’t be sleeping with me for a few days, if my memory is correct then she’s mad for more than one reason.”

“Ah,” Derek gets it, “good luck my friend. Good luck.”

When Spencer pulls away, he heads in the direction Y/N left and follows the hallway as far as it goes. She’s sitting on a bench by a window, staring off at the night sky as she takes some deep breaths. She looks a little more peaceful, she’s had a really rough few weeks and he’s not making it any easier on her.

“I know two things for sure,” he speaks softly but she still jumps a little as she turns to him.

“What would they be?”

“That you’re the love of my life,” he’s confident as he sits on the bench beside her and takes her hand in his. “And I’m an idiot when it comes to love.”

“That is quite the dilemma,” she smirks, her eyes gleam as she looks at him and he knows she was trying not to cry by how glossy they are, but it makes her more beautiful, somehow.

“I’m really sorry.”

“All you have to do is tell me the truth, Spencer,” she places her hand on his leg and leans in with a whisper, “it’s really simple.”

“Truth is,” he whispers right back, lips close enough to kiss, “I’m never going to stop loving you, which means more stupid moments are in my future. Just so you know.”

She giggles and kisses him quickly, “I don’t mind being the smart one in the relationship, but you still have to ask.”

“Will you be my girlfriend and let me love you for the rest of my life, no matter how much I fuck up and drive you crazy?” He teases her, knowing she’ll say yes regardless.

“On one condition,” she can’t hide the smirk on her face and he’s nervous at what she’s thinking.

“Anything?”

“You let me love you for just as long? If not longer.”

He nods, “forever?”

She nods back before kissing him just as deeply as they did that morning, her hands in his hair as she presses his face into her’s with force. She holds him there and breathes him in, pulling back with a classic smooch sound, she smiles again, “you’re my boyfriend now.”

He nods with a small smile, “what should we do first as boyfriend and girlfriend?”

She bites her lip and pretends to think about it for a moment, “fuck in the linen closet down the hall?”

“I don’t have any condoms on me?” Is his only worry, not getting caught, not that all their bosses and superiors were there, just that he didn’t have a condom.

She pulls one out of her bra with a smile, “Savannah gave this to me about 3 minutes before you came over here.”

“How much make-up sex do they have?” He asks as he takes her hand and leads her down the hallway.

She’s giddy and smiling, her heels click on the floor as they rush to the other end of the hall and open the little door. There are shelves with towels and rolls upon rolls of silverware in cloth napkins. A vacuum in the corner, some brooms and just enough room for them.

She pulls him in closer and shuts the door, reconnecting their lips as she pushes him up against it. Hands reaching for his belt she kisses down his neck and he’s like putty in her hands as soon as she strokes him, he moans by accident and she covers his mouth with her free hand.

“Do you have any idea how turned on you make me? I have wanted to fuck you since I first saw you, 6 years ago…”

“Really?” His muffled voice behind her hand makes her laugh. She removes her hand and instead runs her fingers through his hair while taking a moment to look at him and really take it all in.

“Yeah,” she nods, “which is why I asked to sleep with you on the way home from the bar, I didn’t know if I could handle it either it, but I’ve always wanted Doctor Reid from the BAU to rail me. I just didn’t think we’d end up falling in love?”

“No one has ever admitted to having a crush on me and meant it,” he whispers.

“I’m glad I get to be one of your firsts,” she smiles again before he pulls her into another kiss.

She kisses the side of his mouth and then his jaw, down his neck and then she’s dropping to her knees in front of him. He’s hard in her hands but he twitches as he sees her like this, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes as she strokes him, she flattens her tongue and taps the tip of his cock to it.

He has to cover his own mouth or else he’s going to get them caught, he moans at the feeling, closing his eyes and that's when she takes him in her mouth. His free hand is in her hair, careful not to mess it up but enough grip to steady himself.

He tilts his head back against the door with a knock and a sign, “fuck,” he can’t help but talk into his hand which only makes it sound louder in the tight space.

She feels so good every single time and yet this one feels different, he looks down at her and she pulls off, “what’s wrong?”

“I love you,” he shrugs.

He helps her back up to her feet and she backs up against the shelves, “come here?”

He helps her hike her dress up, holding all the material up as he slips her underwear off and takes that condom back out of her bra with a single kiss to her chest. He rolls it over himself and lines up with her, her arms wrap around his shoulders as she looks at him, “show me how much you love me?”

He slides in and they don’t break eye contact as she takes him, her mouth opens in a silent gasp at the feeling, her hands grip his shoulders tighter as she steadies her ass on a shelf and wraps her legs around him while he bottoms out.

With a hand on her cheek and one on her lower back, he pulls out and thrusts back in with a smile as she bites back a moan, she pulls his face in close to hers to kiss him while he fucks her. The hand on his cheek slides down her neck, applying a small amount of pressure that makes her breathing hitch. She swallows sharply before his hand starts to trail over her breasts and then between them.

With a thumb on her clit, he fucks her a little harder while rubbing his thumb in a circle. She’s breathing heavily into his mouth, placing sloppy kisses against each other as they enjoyed each other.

She’s so close and he knows it, and then there is a knock on the door.

“Spence, we have a case when you’re done?” He hears Derek's voice behind the door and he can’t believe it.

“Okay!” He calls back without stopping, instead, he fucks into her a little faster.

“Oh!” She moans by accident before covering her mouth with a slap and wide eyes, moaning behind her hand as she bounces on his cock.

He kisses her hand, making her move it so he can press his lips back to hers and absorb all the noises she was going to make, her hands both reach for his back, gripping his suit jacket so tight he’s afraid she might rip it.

She cums with a shocked gasp, it’s as quiet as possible but it still echos around them as he gets closer and closer. He buries his face in her neck and accidentally moans as well as he cums, stilling his hips as he holds her there, sputtering his hips against hers as they catch their breath.

“I love you,” he manages to say between breaths, “that much.”

“You need to go,” she smiles.

He kisses her one last time before he pulls out, he loves the way she gasps every time he does so. She smiles after, their teeth clashing as they laugh, “I’m going to get in so much trouble.”

“I’m never going to get a job,” she shakes her head as she gets off the shelf and fixes her dress.

He takes off the condom and wraps it in some paper towel on the shelf, he’ll get rid of it later. She picks up her underwear, he thinks she puts them back on, but she really slides them into his pocket for him to find in the middle of the case when he reaches for something important...

—

She rides back to headquarters with Penelope and JJ, both of them want to ask and she knows it. Mainly because she looks like she’s had sex, and also because she asks to stop at the academy so she can get another pair of underwear from her locker.

It’s not until they’re in Penelope’s office that they ask, “what’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” She plays dumb.

“Dating Spencer?” Penelope says, “more specifically, having sex with him?” She mumbles and it makes Y/N laugh.

“In total, we’ve been having sex for 3 weeks now and I’ve had 21 orgasms, and we only really fuck on the weekends cause that’s when we’re not busy…” she grinds her teeth slightly with a raised brow, taking a deep breath, “yeah. It’s really great.”

“Holy shit?” They both look more shocked than she’s ever seen them. “How many has he had?” Penelope asks with a quiet voice, pretending she didn’t.

She laughs slightly, “like maybe 14? He’s really generous.”

“What the fuck?” JJ turns to Penelope and shakes her head and there’s something more there that Y/N can sense.

“Who’s Elle?” She asks and they both turn to her with the biggest eyes.

“How do you know about Elle?”

“She’s the first person he slept with?”

“When?” They both shout.

“So he wasn’t kidding. You guys really thought he was a virgin this whole time?” She looks at them like they’re crazy. “How?”

They both just shake their heads and sigh, stuttering and looking for words they don’t have. “We just never thought he could?���

“Snooze ya loose, I guess?” She shrugs, “so what is the case and how can I help?”

“Right! We have a case,” Penelope snaps back into it, “but seriously Elle? Are you sure you have your names right?”

“Penelope,” she looks at her seriously.

“Right, they’re headed to Roanoke.”

There was a child abduction of a 6-year-old girl, CARD and the BAU were both called out and that meant everyone was mingling on the two floors and they would use as much help as possible.

It also turns out that Anderson’s surrogate went into labour a little earlier than anyone expected; so he and his husband have left for paternity leave early. Leaving JJ without an assistant and she really needs help in the office for this one.

She catches on rather quickly, knowing the protocols from her training and she’s not afraid to ask questions. She’s still in her dress, her heels click on the tiles as she rushes around with files, making phone calls and running from the briefing room to Penelope’s office.

When they finally crack the case and apprehend the suspect, she sits down finally. It’s been 11 hours since the banquet, and she was exhausted beyond belief. She never slept the night before, Spencer was uncomfortable and she was in her jeans and when she did fall asleep, he was waking her up moments later to get ready.

It's Sunday morning at 9 am when Spencer finally returns back at headquarters. She’s sitting at his desk when he comes up and wraps his arms around her, “we’re going home, come on.”

“Don’t you have to debrief?”

“Did that on the way back,” he turns her around in the role chair and tilts her head up to look at him, she’s so tired and he can tell. “You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Ugh,” she stands up with his help, “I did enough profiling today and now I have a whole week to get through.”

“Just to come back and work here,” he smiles, “if you still want to?”

She wraps him up in a real hug and nods against him, “it’s so fun, even with all the murder.”

“Coming home to this is really nice,” he whispers before kissing her cheek quickly, “I’m glad you like it here.”

“Well, well, well,” Derek's voice is behind them. They pull away to see him smiling, arms wide as he saunters over, “if it isn’t the new romantics.”

“Did you have any suspicions?” Y/N asks, he was a profiler after all.

“I knew something was up,” he’s honest. “I knew you guys were actually doing stuff together, I just didn’t think there was so much angst behind closed doors?”

“You have no idea,” Y/N laughs, holding Spencer closer, “it took too long.”

“I thought you were fighting about the job, cause he wasn’t really upset until you were in Penelope’s office, and I heard the rumours even before he heard what you said,” Derek smiles again, “but I also knew you loved him and he loves you.”

“Correct,” she can’t help but smile. “But we really should head home.”

“Home we go,” Spencer agrees.

—

She asks him to unzip her dress the second they’re back in her apartment. She drops the dress to the floor and heads to the bathroom and he’s left alone in her room. It feels different now. He remembers kissing her in the living room for the first time like it was yesterday, he remembers the first time they had sex, the first time he said I love you, and now he’s here and she’s his girlfriend and he’s going to get to make more memories with her.

He’s so embarrassed by how much he’s been crying lately, something about being in his mid-30s was making him feel like he was about to go through menopause— he has never been very openly emotional, but it’s about time he lets himself feel. He wipes the tears and turns to face the wall while he takes his suit off.

He’s been through too much, a lot of which she doesn’t know of. She has promised him forever, whether she means it or not, and he’s worried he’s going to fuck it up before he gets there.

When she comes back, she lays a towel down on her side of the bed and gets in, “guess who got her period on her first day of work?”

“No?” He gasps, playing along with her playful mood. “At least you’re not pregnant.”

“Thank god,” she sighs, “please for the love of God, don’t get me pregnant for at least 5 years? I want a decent career first so that I don't miss much on maternity leave. I really don't want to be benched for having kids.”

He cries again and she looks so concerned as she gets out of bed and wraps her arms around him, “what did I say wrong, Spencer?”

Still facing the wall, he just lets it all out, “I’m sorry.”

“For what, sweetheart?” She attempts to soothe him by running her hands down his arms, “for crying or something else?”

“Crying,” he whispers and she turns him around then.

“Hey,” she looks up at him with the softest expression he’s ever seen, “you are allowed to have emotions, you are allowed to show them and ask for help and tell me when you need something. I’m not going to think you’re too much, or I can’t handle you or think of you as a burden. I know that’s how you feel because it’s how I fell, and we don’t need to go through that together.”

“I love you,” it’s the only thing that feels right to say.

“I love you,” she repeats it, “what made you cry?”

“Can we get in bed first?”

“Yeah, finish getting ready and then come tell me,” she whispers before reaching up and pressing a kiss to his lips.

He slips away to go to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t want to miss any time with her. He hurries back to her side, getting into bed in his underwear and making sure both his phones are on the night table, charged and ready if they need him.

But until then, he belonged to her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?” It’s the first thing he asks because he knows she has a big day tomorrow. “It can wait.”

“What’s that thing you say about intermittent sleep is actually better?”

“Don’t use my words against me, I do that so people don’t stop me from doing what I think I deserve,” he’s truthful. “I’m not going to ever lie or fib to you again. I hate myself, and if I don’t feel like I’ve done enough I won't sleep or eat sometimes.”

“I do that too,” she’s not proud, “are you trying to tell me you cried cause you’re hungry or tired?”

“No,” he smiles, “but thank you for asking for clarification, I like this new system.”

“Me too.”

“I cried because I really love you and I’m realizing this is all real and I’m going to get to make good memories with you, and when you said kids, even in a hypothetical sense, it made it feel real for me,” he whispers the words before pressing his lips together awkwardly.

She glows in the lap light like she did that first night, “it’s a weird concept, isn’t it? The future. At some point I’m going to have known you longer than anyone, one day we’ll have lived with each other longer than we’ve lived apart. We might be grandparents together one day? It’s all weird to think about.”

“Do you seriously want all that with me?” He’s asking because he has another question to ask right after.

“Yes, Spencer,” she laughs. “I really do.”

“Would you like to Marry me?”

“Seriously?” Her eyes widen and her jaw drops and he’s never seen her look this stunned before.

He nods, “my mom isn’t going to able to appreciate my wedding the longer I wait, and if you really mean it; I’d like to have a wedding with my mom there while she remembers me.”

“I know her birthday is coming up, but can we bring her here instead?”

“Why?”

“My parents decided to drive from Salam to here for my graduation and use the flight money on a nice Airbnb for the week. We should do it while they’re all here because I don’t know when they’d be able to come back,” she has had the same worries about her parents missing her life.

“I’ll ask my mom,” he smiles. “So we’re getting married?”

“in like a week,” she laughs, “oh fuck, how are we going to do that in a week?”

He rolls over and grabs his personal phone, he dials a number and she looks even more confused now.

“Hey Penelope, how fast can you plan a wedding?”

~

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New Romantics:

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[egcdeath]

an apple a day

pairing: soft!ransom drysdale x reader

summary: it seems like an apple a day couldn’t keep the doctor or ransom away.

warnings: sickfic, a lot of fluff, brief mention of throwing up

word count: 2k

author’s note: join my taglist if you’d like! all feedback is appreciated <3

Ransom

U busy?

4:37 PM

Ransom

😏🍆😈

4:38 PM

Ransom

Wow ignoring me?????

5:24 PM

Ransom

Bitch

5:34 PM

Ransom

🙄

5:36 PM

A frantic pounding on your front door pulled you from a bizarre dream within your feverish slumber. You peeled the slightly damp cloth that rest upon your face from your sweaty skin, and lazily tossed it to the floor before audibly groaning. 

“Coming,” you whimpered out, hoping that it was loud enough for whomever was at the door.

“Fuckin’ better be,” a voice grumbled as a response.

You rolled over slightly, whole body sore from the sickness that was currently ailing you, and willed yourself to get off of your sofa. Swinging your legs over the left side of the piece of furniture you managed to get up, and sluggishly made your way to the door, ignoring the ache of your neck from resting it on an arm rest.

It seemed like with every step you took, your sinus headache throbbed harder between your eyes, and your fever cooked you a bit more from the inside out.

After what felt like a lifetime, you got to your door and opened it, only to be greeted by your… well, you didn’t really know what he was to you.

“Christ, Y/N. You look like shit,” Ransom commented, raising his brows. “Did you get hit by a car or something?”

You gave him a blank look, and said nothing. 

“Is this a bad time?”

“What do you think, dickhead?” 

“You’ve had better days,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Okay, goodbye,” you rolled your eyes and slammed the door on him, finding yourself slightly out of breath as you lethargically shuffled away.

You collapsed back onto the sofa, and reached for a blue tissue box that sat on your coffee table. Did that even happen? Did you imagine Ransom coming to your door? Or was that part of your fever dream?

Settling back, and pulling a wool blanket over yourself, you began to doze off once again, not really having the energy to do anything else.

Ransom

I’m s-word

6:12 PM

Ransom

I’m not gonna say it

6:13 PM

Ransom

But you know what I mean

6:15 PM

Ransom

I’m coming back over baby

6:17 PM

You hadn’t even noticed the vibrating of your phone, as it was currently lodged under a mountain of pillows and cushions. It also helped that you were asleep once again.

This time when you woke up, Ransom was in your apartment, rambling about some encounter he had while he was out dealing with the public for you.

How was he even in your apartment? You felt like you missed a few steps.

“Sit up,” he commanded, setting down a plastic take-out bag, along with the spare keys you kept under your welcome mat on top of your coffee table, before dragging a seat from your kitchen into your living room. 

The seat finally came to a stop in front of you, and you listlessly sat up. You watched as Ransom wordlessly opened the bag, revealing a massive container of a clear broth soup, and an equally large baguette.

“Am I dreaming?” You asked aloud.

“Why would you be dreaming? ‘Cause I did something nice? Or because I’m that hot?”

“Because I have a high fever that’s making me delusional,” you told him, and his brows furrowed once again. 

“Let me see,” he mumbled, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead, and humming in thought, “Yeah, you’re pretty hot,” he agreed.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you mumbled, a random churn in your stomach suddenly taking a huge blow out of you. 

“Hey, I did a good thing for you. Don’t get bitchy with me now,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes slightly at you. 

You sighed as a response, and Ransom gave you a little smirk before going to open the lid of the soup container. 

“Open up wide, Beloved,” Ransom said in a playful tone. If you had the energy, you’d shoot something sassy back at him, but you were finding yourself in less of a state to do so with every passing moment. You simply followed along with his orders, opening your lips so Ransom could deliver a little spoonful of soup into your mouth. 

“Mm,” you audibly reacted to the liquid, “did you make this yourself?”

“Hm, you must be sicker than I thought,” he chuckled and dabbed the edge of your lip where a droplet of soup was left behind. “I picked it up on my way back over.”

“It’s really good,” you hummed, “feed me more.” 

Ransom scoffed fondly, “you’re lucky I like you.” He began, dishing out another spoonful to you.

You paused to chew on a softened carrot, “you should’ve known that sick me’s demands of you were gonna be a lot more.”

Ransom rolled his eyes, and went back to feeding you. You were both quiet for a moment, maintaining a heavy eye contact while he fed you, until out of the blue, your stomach turned. 

Your mouth filled with saliva as you realized what exactly was going on, and you rushed off of the couch with an obscene swiftness, just barely making it to your bathroom before you were emptying your stomach into it.

Ransom quickly showed up behind you, making his presence known by lifting your hair out of your face, and rubbing supportive circles onto your back. He cringed as he listened to you heave into the bowl, and when you finally leaned back, he used a thumb to wipe away the few tears that had begun to slip down your face. 

“You okay?” he questioned, squatting down to your level.

“Just peachy,” you choked out hoarsely.

“Maybe you’ll feel better after a shower?” he suggested, flushing your sickness down the toilet while you attempted to catch your breath.

“Okay, yeah,” you began hesitantly.

“I’ll stay in here if you want me to make sure nothing bad happens?”

“You just wanna be a perv,” you weakly giggled.

“I’m just trying to be a supportive… I’m trying to be supportive,” Ransom found his way back up, and turned on the shower’s nozzle.

“Mhm, I’m sure,” you began kicking off your sweatpants when you heard the water begin to putter down, and gestured for Ransom to help you lift off your sweatshirt once he was facing you once again. 

“I can’t believe you’re using up the last of that energy to have an attitude with me,” Ransom pulled you out of your shirt, then helped you up and began to direct you toward the shower. 

You were more or less silent from there on out, focusing on maintaining your balance in the slippery room. Your brain seemed to become increasingly cloudy with every extra puff of steam. You leaned against the slightly warm tiles of your wall as you attempted to get through the genuinely hellish shower for a few minutes before deciding it wasn’t really worth it, and stumbling back out. 

“Was I right? Did it help?” Ransom asked after your period of silence, handing you some fresh clothing that he’d grabbed from your closet sometime between the time you got in and out of the shower. 

You shook your head, “shower kinda made everything worse,” you muttered, pulling a new shirt over your head. “My head is killing me. I think I just need to be in a dark room, or go back to sleep, or something.”

You sluggishly pulled on the rest of your clothes, then sniffled as you walked out to your bedroom. As you made your way to your bed, you pushed aside a mountain of tissues from earlier in the… day? Week? With all the sleeping you’d been doing, you genuinely

couldn’t tell what time or day it was. You slipped into one side of the bed, and grabbed a pillow that you promptly hugged. 

Ransom slipped into bed beside you, a bottle of cold medicine in hand– when did he leave long enough to get you cold medicine?– and watched the tissues on your side of the bed fall onto the floor in a slightly disturbed manner. Yeah, he was definitely getting sick after this.

“Open,” he ordered, and you happily obliged, opening your mouth a bit so he could pour some medicine down your throat. You dramatically gagged, then wiped the corners of your lips.

“Gross, Ran,” you muttered, burying your face into a different pillow. 

“Well, it’ll probably make you feel better. I brought you water for a chaser if you’d like. You probably need to stay hydrated, or some shit like that.” 

When did he get water?? Probably when he was getting the medicine. But that would’ve taken him like, five minutes. And getting in bed didn’t take you that long. Right?

You were pulled out of your confused internal monologue by a pink plastic straw being brought to your lips, and you instinctively drank from it. You weren’t completely sure if it was all mental, or the medicine was kicking in extremely fast, but you were starting to feel a little loopy. Maybe time was being weird again because of your sickness. 

“I feel like I’m dying. You and your stupid showers made me die,” you whined, pushing away the straw.

“I was only trying to help,” he insisted as he set the drink down on your bedside table.

“I’m your second murder victim,” you continued.

Ransom paused and looked down at you with raised brows, “what?”

“Y’know, I saw what you did to that delivery girl who was bringing me soup. You better clean that body up before I get better, ‘cause ‘mgonna be pissed if I have to do that myself.”

“Okay, I don’t know if you’ve been seeing things the whole time, or if the medicine is rewriting your memories. Either way, I think it’s time for you to go to bed,” he chuckled.

“You’re right. Night,” you hummed before turning on your side and closing your eyes. It was pretty much lights out from there.

——

When you awoke, it was to the piercing bright light of a laptop screen that broke through the darkness of night. You had to blink a few times for your vision to focus, but… was Ransom in bed next to you? Looking at a WikiHow article? If you weren’t completely mistaken, you could make out a faint How to Help A Sick Person Feel Better: 8 Steps (with pictures).

You sleepily reached out and grabbed his wrist, letting him know that you were finally awake. He quickly clicked out of the tab, pulling up his Twitter feed instead. 

“Hi,” you greeted. “Why’re you being secretive?”

“I’m not,” he huffed.

“You are.”

“You’re still delusional from the medicine.”

“Probably. But you’re being secretive. And you’re bad at it.”

“Whatever,” you could practically hear the eye roll in his tone. 

“It’s late, Ran. Why’re you still up?” 

“I just wanted to, y’know…” he trailed off.

“To…?” you pressed.

“I wanted to make sure nothing would happen to you while you slept,” he rushed out. “Happy?”

You swooned aloud at this, “you are such a sucker. Put that laptop down and cuddle me.”

Ransom said nothing, but set the device into your night stand, and wrapped an arm around you, “‘re you feeling any better?” he mumbled as he relaxed into you. 

“Kinda. We’ll see in the morning,” you slipped your hand down on top of his, and Ransom promptly moved it.

“You’re already pushing it tonight.”

“You’re always such a dick,” you scoffed with a laugh. “Goodnight, asshat.”

“Goodnight, you sick bitch,” he quipped back.

——

When you awoke in the morning, you couldn’t help but to notice how much better you were feeling. No headache, no nausea, a little fatigue, but hey, you just woke up, and that was to be expected. 

As you sat up and glanced to your right, you found a pink-nosed Ransom with a box of empty Kleenex sat in his lap. 

“Oh great, you’re awake,” he began in a nasally tone. “Since you wanted to get me sick, it’s your turn to take care of me,” he tossed the empty box at you, the cardboard falling softly onto your lap. 

Something told you that this was going to be a long day. 

[hookingminor]

highly requested part 2 to this angsty blurb, and this marks the end of my 2k blurb weekend! thank you all for joining me and I hope you enjoyed!

-

Matthew wandered back to the hotel well after midnight.

The rehearsal dinner ended around nine in the evening, but after spending an hour on that deck thinking about everything you said, he decided to take a long walk around the neighborhood.

He wandered through the church venue Willow had booked and sat at the pews for a few minutes, taking in all the decorations that were already set up. Then, he made his way back to the barn where the reception would take place, and all of it just felt wrong: the decor, the table settings, the flowers, none of it felt right.

Matthew didn’t put much thought into the wedding, per Willow’s requests, but it only hit him just how little he contributed to all of it as he sat on his hotel bed and thought about what his ideal wedding would look like.

He didn’t even want to get married in Calgary.

It made sense he would since Willow had lived here her whole life, but Matthew always imagined his wedding taking place in St. Louis where his entire family and all his friends could attend. Besides his immediate family and teammates, no one else could make the long trip to Calgary for his wedding.

When Matthew pictured his wedding, he also pictured you standing at the end of the aisle, too. Matthew was sure Willow’s dress would be gorgeous and she would look absolutely beautiful tomorrow, but when he pictured you standing there in her place, he was filled with a fluttering of butterflies in his stomach he couldn’t deny.

Which is what led him to knocking on Willow’s door at one in the morning.

It took a few minutes before she woke, bleary eyed and confused as to why her fiance was seeking her out so late in the night. “Matthew? What is it? You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding.” She pulled her robe tighter around her body, as if trying to shield Matthew’s eyes from her.

That was another superstition Matthew didn’t like. He nearly begged Willow to spend the night with him before the wedding, not buying into the ‘bad luck’ bullshit people always said about sleeping together before the ceremony, but she wouldn’t budge.

“I know, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I think we need to talk,” Matthew said. He was still dressed in his suit from the dinner, though he’d shed his jacket and tie long ago. Willow’s face fell at his words, but she let him inside her room anyway.

Matthew sat on the edge of the bed awkwardly and fiddled with his thumbs as Willow sat next to him. Silence filled the room. Matthew didn’t know how to say it.

“Is this about Y/N?” Willow asked calmly after a few minutes passed. “I saw you two talking outside earlier.”

Matthew looked at his fiance, her eyes sad and face dismal. He nodded.

“I figured,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said because he didn’t know what else to say.

Then Willow said the most unexpected thing.

“It’s okay.”

Matthew’s confusion was clear on his face, and Willow let out a genuine laugh as she took his hand in hers.

“I thought if you saw her and she moved on, we could’ve made this work, but that wasn’t the case, was it?” She asked, and Matthew nodded again.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” she continued. “I always knew you still loved her.”

“I really did love you,” Matthew said. “I do love you… it’s just…”

“You love her more,” Willow finished for him.

“I am sorry,” Matthew pleaded. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but then I saw her and… I can’t let her go.”

“I know,” Willow said, squeezing his hand comfortingly, and then let out a deep sigh. “Well, I guess we better tell our folks the wedding’s off, huh?”

-

Matthew showed up to your place a month later.

He stood outside your apartment, nervous and shaking, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. You hadn’t heard from him since booking the first flight out of Calgary, dodging all his calls and texts that came in over the week after his wedding. You effectively stayed off social media, deleting all the apps you knew you still had Matthew on in fear of seeing wedding pictures.

The surprise on your face was evident when you answered the door to find Matthew on the other side.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon or something?” You asked.

“I didn’t go through with it. I couldn’t after seeing you,” Matthew explained. “Can I come in?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you let Matthew follow you inside. He’d never seen your apartment before. You’d moved places shortly after your breakup, trying to erase the memories of Matthew that existed on every surface of your old apartment.

He held out the flowers for you, which you took and placed into a vase and filled with water. Matthew’s eyes roamed your new place, taking in all the photos you had on your fridge to the books you kept on your bookshelves.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Matthew?” You asked.

Matthew’s gaze focused back on you. “I always hated it when you called me Matthew.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“What do you want?” You rephrased, ignoring his comment.

“I want to give us another shot,” Matthew answered confidently.

You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting him to say, but it was definitely not that.

“Matthew—”

“And before you tell me how bad of an idea it is, because I know that’s what you’re about to say, just hear me out.”

Your mouth snapped shut and you waited for him to continue.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for years, and I’m never going to not be in love with you,” Matthew said. “After you left, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I realized that marrying Willow wasn’t what I wanted. When I picture my future I see you in it. I see you at the end of that aisle on our wedding day. I see you and me in a house with a dog and maybe a few kids. I see you waiting for me at home at the end of the day, and I see you beside me when I wake up in the morning.”

“Matthew, we tried this before,” you sighed. “We tried the long distance, and it didn’t work.”

“And I’m willing to try again,” Matthew replied, crossing the few feet of space between you to cup your face in his hands. “We were young and dumb and immature, and I pressured you to change your life for me when I shouldn’t have. I’m not asking you to pack up your life and move to Calgary right now. Hell, if you don't ever want to move to Canada, you don’t have to. I’ll move to wherever you want to be because wherever you are is where I belong.”

“I’m in this for the long haul,” he added. “There is no one else out there for me, and there never will be.”

Tears welled in your eyes at his profession, and Matthew’s thumb came to swipe at a stray tear that rolled down your cheek.

“What makes you think this time will be different?” You questioned softly.

“Because I’m different. We’re different. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. You’re all I want.”

“You’d really request a trade for me?” Matthew nodded.

“It wasn’t fair to put that all on you then, and I know that. I shouldn’t have asked you to do something I wasn’t willing to do myself, but I’m telling you now that I’d do anything for you,” he answered.

Throwing your arms around Matthew’s neck, you pressed your entire body into his. Arms tightened around your torso, keeping you snug against him, and Matthew tucked your head into his chest.

“So what do you say? Can you give me a second chance?” He mumbled into your hair.

“I think we’re well past second chances,” you chuckled.

“I promise it’ll be the last one you need to give me,” Matthew laughed, grasping the base of your neck.

In an attempt to blink away his own tears, a few streamed down his cheeks. Leaning forward, you kissed away the tears, leaving his cheeks wet, but Matthew had a dopey grin on his face all the same.

“I’m all in,” you replied to his question, and Matthew had to take a second to make sure he heard you correctly.

His grin spread wider, and he crashed his lips to yours, both of your smiles getting in the way but neither of you cared. Matthew peppered your face in kisses: your brow, your cheeks, your nose, your chin. There was not one inch of skin he left untouched.

You giggled in his arms, twisting your face to the side to avoid the tickling of his scruff against your cheeks, but he kept you close to his body.

“I love you,” he said finally, “and I’m sorry it took me so long to get my shit together.”

You caught his lips in a deep kiss. “All that matters is you’re here now.”

“Oh, I forgot something,” Matthew said, pulling back just enough to reach his hand into his pocket. 

A small box rested in the palm of his hand, and he opened it to show you the necklace he gifted to you nearly three years ago. When everything ended, you’d given it back to him, and he’d kept it tucked away in his bedside drawer since then.

The dainty ‘19’ hung from the chain, and Matthew undid the hook and looked at you with hopeful eyes. Your stomach did a flip as you turned around, and Matthew draped the jewelry around your neck, connecting it in the back and placing a soft kiss on the skin right above it.

“Now everything’s right where it belongs.”

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 4 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

With Dustin in the lead, we found ourselves stopped atop a hill, at what I assume is a scrapyard. Old vehicles like abandoned cars and buses scattered around the area.

Dustin came to a stop and looked around.

"Oh, no." He muttered.

"'Oh, no'? What's, 'Oh, no'?" Lucas asked in a panicked tone.

Dustin turned around to look at us.

"We're headed back home."

"What?" Even Mike seemed to be frustrated.

"Dustin, are you sure?" I ask, irritation and exhaustion creeping up on me.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Setting sun, right there." He pointed past us in the direction of the sky. "We looped right back around."

I sighed, shifting on my feet as I run a hand down my face.

"And you're just realizing this now?" Lucas snapped.

"Why is this all on me?"

"Because you're the compass genius!"

"What do yours say?"

We all checked our compasses, mine was wobbly but nevertheless, pointing North.

Lucas, Mike and I all spoke at once.

"North."

We all sighed, and Dustin began slowly pacing, looking off into the distance deep in thought.

"Makes no damn sense."

"Maybe the gate moved," Mike offered.

"No, I don't think it's the gate." Dustin began looking all around us. "I think it's something else screwing with the compasses."

"Maybe it's something here?"

As Mike spoke, I didn't fail to notice the look that crossed Lucas's face as he slowly turned to face El.

"No, it has to be like a super magnet." Dustin replied.

Lucas rose his hand and began pointing at El accusingly. "It's not a magnet. She's been acting weirder than normal. If she can slam doors with her mind, she can definitely screw up a compass."

El stood rooted in place, a look of guilt and fear in her eyes.

"Why would she do that?" Mike snapped.

"Because she's trying to sabotage our mission. Because she's a traitor!"

As much as I hated to admit it to myself, it was the only logical explanation we had. It could be all too easy for her to screw with our compasses after what she showed herself capable of.

I shook my head, ridding myself of the conclusions my brain wanted to jump to.

"Lucas, come on. Think about what you're saying. Why would-" I rested a gentle hand on Lucas's shoulder to try and calm him down, only for him to rip his arm from my touch.

"Enough, Y/n! I'm so sick of you defending her! You of all people should be more worried for Will."

"I am!" I snapped, feeling the anger, fear and confusion of all I've been carrying the past few days shoot up to the surface unexpectedly.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. "Just... Please. Hear her out."

Lucas never met my eye and only stomped towards the poor girl intimidatingly.

"Lucas, what are you doing?" Mike asked, following behind Lucas worriedly.

"You did it, didn't you? You don't want us to reach the gate. You don't want us to find Will." Lucas was in her face by now, and it as if the poor girl was on the verge of tears.

Dustin and I were toe in toe with the others and I walked up to Lucas, ready in case he decided to something rash.

Mike seemed to have the same idea.

"Lucas, come on, seriously, just leave her alone!"

"Admit it." Lucas spit.

"No." El muttered.

"Admit it!" We all jumped when Lucas began screaming.

He grabbed her right arm and examined her sleeve. There was a streak of shiny dark crimson on her sleeve.

Lucas swatted away her arm in disgust and frustration at the sight.

"Fresh blood. I knew it."

Dustin and I watched speechless as the boys began fighting.

"Lucas, come on!"

"I saw her wiping her nose on the tracks! She was using her powers!"

"Bull! That's old blood. Right, El?"

We all whipped our heads to El, waiting for her response.

At this point, she was fighting back tears, and her breath hitched.

"Right, El?" Mike asked again, less confident.

She began sobbing as she choked out her words.

"It's... not... it's not safe."

My stomach plunged as Dustin and I shared a look of worry and shock.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"What did I tell you? She's been playing us from the beginning!"

Lucas and Mike seemed to be having it out now and they wouldn't stop despite the many protests from either Dustin or I. My body seemed to have shut down, staring helplessly as my two best friends fight, at a complete loss for words from shock and knowing my words will make no difference.

"That's not true. She helped us find Will!"

"Find Will? Find Will? Where is he, then? Huh? I don't see him."

"Yeah, you know what I mean,"

"No, I actually don't. Just think about it, Mike. She could have just told us where the Upside Down was right away, but she didn't. She just made us run around like headless chickens."

With every word my body was feeling more and more on edge, my anxiety set in as I felt uncomfortable in my own skin at my friend's tearing each other apart. I started shifting back and forth, my hands rubbing the back of my neck.

Either Dustin noticed this, or he was sick of the fighting as well - or both for that matter - he stomped towards the boys and intervened.

"All right, calm down!"

"No! She used us, all of us! She helped just enough so she could get what she wants. Food and a bed. She's like a stray dog."

"Screw you, Lucas!"

"No! Screw you, Mike. You're blind... blind because you like that a girl's not grossed out by you. But wake up, man! Wake the hell up! She knows where Will is, and now she's just letting him die in the Upside Down."

"Shut up!"

"For all we know, it's her fault."

"Shut up."

"We're looking for some stupid monster... but did you ever stop to think that maybe she's the monster?"

'I don't want to believe it. I don't want to believe that El is the monster. I don't want my best friend to be missing, I don't want my friends to fight all the time. But at the same time, I can't afford to dismiss the possibility that maybe Lucas had a point. Not about her being a monster. No, that I refuse to believe, but her having something to do with everything that's been going on.'

What came next was a blur.

Mike couldn't take it anymore and lunged at Lucas, the boys toppled to the ground and began wrestling in the dirt. Dustin, El and I screaming at the top of our lungs for them to stop.

I looked to Dustin and El and back at the fighting boys. I ran to them attempting to pry Lucas off of Mike in a panic, knowing there was a big chance I'd get hit. But I didn't care and I couldn't stand by and do nothing.

"Enough! Please, stop! Just-"

I closed my eyes as I saw the blur of Lucas's hand strike me accidentally as he swung his arm back, ready to punch Mike. I felt the back of his fist collide with my nose and I fell back with a painful yelp.

I heard a shrill shriek and opened my eyes in time to see Lucas fly backward in the air about five feet and slide into an abandoned car door, lying unconscious.

I looked to Lucas in horror and ran to him, not caring about my gushing nose.

I dive in front of Lucas, trying to shake him awake.

The boys were right behind me.

"Lucas! Lucas, wake up! Lucas."

Nothing. I checked his head for injuries, my hand never leaving him as I look over my shoulder at El, horrified.

"What did you do?"

El stood rooted to the ground, sobs wracking her body as blood dripped down her nose. I could tell the guilty look in her eyes was genuine but I didn't have time to feel bad for her right now.

Lucas was my main priority. I turned my attention back to my friend.

Dustin and Mike were just as panicked as I was.

"Come on, wake up. Come on!" Dustin yelled.

"Come on, man. Lucas?" Mike muttered worriedly.

"Lucas? Lucas, come on!" I sniffled, weakly shaking him.

To my tremendous relief, Lucas slowly came to with a groan and his eyes fluttered open.

The three of us chuckled and laughed in relief. The weight in my lungs and heart were lifted at the sight

"Lucas." Mike let out in a shaky breath.

Lucas slowly sat up and blinked a few times, processing what just happened.

"Lucas, you okay?" Mike asked.

There was no response from our friend.

Dustin spoke up shakily as he held up three fingers.

"Lucas... Lucas, how many fingers am I holding up? Lucas, how many fingers?"

Mike began reaching forward towards Lucas's head, already one step ahead of me.

"Let me see your head." He offered gently, he was cut short went Lucas angrily shoved Mike's hand away.

"Get off of me!" He grunted, struggling to stand up.

"Lucas, come on, you could be hurt. Let us help." I try, my voice soft reaching for his shoulder.

He pushed my arm away in anger as he stood up, storming past me.

"I said, get off of me!" I detected a hint of fear in his voice this time and less anger, making me more sympathetic than angry at him.

Mike began to chase after him but Dustin and I seem to have the same thought as we both caught each of his arms

"Let him go."

I watched sorrowfully as my friend left without us.

"Man, let him go."

We all shared a somber silence when suddenly Mike spoke up.

"Where is El?"

I looked to where she had been standing previously only to find no one else in sight.

Mike's breathing increased and he began shouting for her.

"El! El!"

"Eleven!" Dustin had joined in.

I stood frozen, my voice failing me. I looked around me as hopelessness sunk in and solidified into guilt. The icy wind whipped my collar as the desperate voices of my friends was lost to the wind.

She was gone.

[howisavedtheworld]

enough | hanamaki takahiro

genre: heavy angst to fluff, a *lil* bittersweet lmao, timeskip!hanamaki takahiro x fem!reader/gn!reader, established relationship

warnings pls pls read: money problems, cursing littered in a lot of places, mentions of feelings like depression, exhaustion, loneliness, crying, etc., blood mentioned *once* (it’s from a callus, it is nothing extreme but i want to state it explicitly anyways) if there’s anything else brought to my attention ill fix accordingly

a/n: hi!!!! it’s been like two weeks since i’ve posted, i’ve been in a slump, but i’m going to genuinely try to be more consistent and kind to myself abt wat i create! also every thing i’ve ever written on here is ib my personal experiences

heads up tho, i havent read the manga and this is just my dramatized take on his life post-time skip and certain things may be inaccurate 

enjoy!

also proofread at 4 am lol

wc: 1385

PLS GIVE THIS FIC A CHANCE ITS NOT ALL SAD I PROMISE

                                               -

if hanamaki takahiro were to say he’s “tired,” one would deem it a grave understatement.

he’s not just tired.

he’s drained.

for starters, he’s worked three back to back shifts and it was barely reaching wednesday. monday at the deli was tough, considering he spent twelve straight hours packaging and stocking prosciutto and mozzarella sandwiches and arranging bags of kettle-cooked chips by flavor across the aisles of the store.

tuesday was even harder, the double shift at the restaurant hitting his already fatigued body like a brick. it was tiring enough to run around speedily clearing dishes and wiping down tables for six hours but it was absolute overkill to then spend the entire night cleaning the restaurant and prepping it for the morning crew.

6:39 am.

that was when takahiro finally left the restaurant, forcing his sluggish sore limbs to make the trek to the train station for the long ride back home.

in truth, the word “tired” barely even scratched the surface.

but he needed the money.

he needed it badly.

bills were always lingering on the brim of takahiro’s mind: the rent, the light bill, the water, the electricity. it left with him the constant urge to move, to work, to always be on the lookout for his next paycheck.

and of course, this wasn’t the best arrangement nor was it the life he’d hoped for.

of course, regret encompassed him, bound itself to his very being.

he wished he went pro after his glory days at aoba johsai, that he’d tried a little harder to be something. maybe then he’d have the opportunity to play in argentina, to travel the world, or to get signed by a sports brand just for the sake of it.

of course, he always felt a pang of jealousy for the ones that made it big.

even the ones who didn’t.

the ones with stable incomes, who could sustain themselves with only one job, who owned compact sized cars, who could actually save a single dime with hopes of eventually going on vacation.

deep down, he was jealous of them, too.

and he wondered, as he finally stepped foot on the train heading north, feeling the ache in his heels settle, if this would ever feel like enough.

if working two jobs back to back would ever amount to any feeling of satisfaction, if it was okay that he would only ever be remembered as the guy who didn’t go pro, who never got his degree, who was barely getting by.

he really didn’t think so.

because how could it be enough?

how could he have nothing to show for the life he lived?

sometimes, takahiro felt almost as if he was cursed. that life had dealt him the worst of cards just to see him crack underneath the pressure.

a lot of times, he did.

he had his fair share of low moments: the time he found himself shedding tears in the back of the deli, hiding behind loaves of rye bread and cold cuts hoping nobody would catch him.

or the time he bandaged his own bleeding foot by himself at the restaurant because his calluses broke open and everyone else was simply too busy to help.

in these moments, hanamaki felt so alone.

as if the world had forgotten him, had continued to spin on its axis, leaving him alone to figure out its rotation.

in these moments, he really just wanted to run away from it all.

to quit his jobs and just disappear for some time.

but he couldn’t.

because hanamaki takahiro had also learned that in every shitty day or moment, there was a flip side.

there had to be a sliver of hope in the midst of darkness.

7:32 am. 

that was when hanamaki got home.

he stood for a moment, fumbling with various receipts and trinkets in his pocket before he finding his keys and opening the door.

it was quiet. 

he could only hear the whirr of the shaky air conditioner and the hum of morning birds outside the bay windows of the living room. he took one step inside, wincing at the ache in his legs and sharp jab of pain up his spine.

locking the door behind him, he slipped off his shoes before the silence was broken.

“baby?” your soft sleepy voice rang through the apartment, making his body jump.

he was sure you’d be sleeping by now.

“hey, babe.” he let out a exhale of relief that you were the source of noise. “sorry if i woke you.” 

you sat up from your position laying on the couch, shaking your head incessantly while wiping the grog from your eyes.

“no,” you quickly spoke. “i was waiting for you.”

his heart skipped a beat looking at you, your eyes half-lidded from exhaustion with dark circles underneath them, your hair completely disheveled from your awkward sleeping position on the couch, and you wore his old seijoh jersey that was too large and slipped down your shoulders, the hem falling just above your knees.

you looked at him, offering a soft smile before beckoning him over to you. “work must’ve fucking sucked, c’mere.”

and you were so right.

it was awful.

he took lengthy strides over to you before dropping onto the couch, his head finding its way to your lap.

your fingers instinctively reached to stroke his soft locks and he sighed, leaning into your touch.

“are you hungry?” you murmured. “i made udon earlier. it’s cold now so you’ll have to warm it up.”

he was hungry, desperately so after not having a moment to get even a small snack in at work, but he wanted to stay here for just a little longer, pressed into you, feeling the pads of your fingers against his scalp, smelling your conditioner and listening to the softness of your voice.

he shook his head, and you laughed, knowingly nodding. “okay, you can eat it later.”

“how was work for you?” he questioned, eyes fluttering closed at serenity of the moment.

you hummed, fingers still locked into his hair. “shitty. you know, usual bullshit with customers. but i think with my next paycheck, we’ll make the rent.”

his eyes snapped open to look up at you, and you were staring down at him, an excited smile on your face when you locked eyes.

and takahiro knew you had hopes and dreams, that you wanted to go back to school and get your degree and have a normal job, and eventually buy a house and car, and maybe have kids, but you always said that part wearily, claiming you both should start off the family off with a pet first.

he knew you wanted something different. you’d told him.

but even now, in this moment as he stared up at you, saddened by the fact that the future you hoped for was nowhere in sight, there was no inkling of disappointment in your eyes, no what-if, no questioning of if it was enough.

you looked at him like the life you had was all you’d ever asked for.

as if of course it was enough.

before he knew it, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

your eyes widened and you moved a hand to his cheek, wiping the tear away.

“i love you.” he stated, a few more lone tears sliding down his face.

your face softened before you squeezed his cheek with your hand.

“hey.” you beckoned him to sit up.

he followed, sitting up to face your frame on the couch. “don’t cry ‘cus we made the rent. there’s always other bills you can pay. if that’s what you’re worried about.”

and he laughed, nodding while tears spilled over his irises and he watched you through bleary eyes, wipe each one away and pull him into an embrace.

“i love you. you know that, right? i’ll always love you.”

hanamaki takahiro realized that in this lifetime, he doesn’t need a sports deal, or a compact car, or trips to argentina. even if life were to always be this hard, if he was always teetering on the in-between, if this was all the universe had to offer him, that was okay.

because it had granted him you.

and you, alone, were more than enough.

[fruitcoops]

Hey I was wondering if you could write something kinda angsty but with a pretty ending with the cubs, I’m trynna project getting stood up and turning it into something nice and good, even if it’s just in my head. No pressure but I just wanna smile for a bit and your work always makes me do so :)))

Hello lovely! I’m so sorry that you were stood up--that feels awful and whoever did it missed out on a wonderful person. I’ve combined this with some other asks in the same vein (y’all wanted my boys to hurt) so I hope you don’t mind. Sending love and hugs your way! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove​ <3

1. Bad mental health day for Finn + pushing himself too hard + passing out (ft. Bee anon!)

2. O’Knutzy boiling over with a fluffy ending

3. Insecure Leo

TW for internalized guilt, vaguely implied self-harm (pushing himself too hard at practice), and relationship arguments

Finn had a few bad habits. He left dirty dishes in the sink, could never remember which setting the laundry was supposed to go on, and barely wiped his shoes on the doormat before entering the house. He wasn’t proud of his flaws, but he acknowledged that everyone had some—as long as they didn’t hurt anybody, it wasn’t the end of the world.

This one…this one was different. Even Finn knew that.

He gritted his teeth for the next set of squats, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the climbing nausea in his gut. The chart only said to do three reps, but he had been beating himself up for slacking a set earlier in the week and decided to do five to make up for it.

That, it seemed, was a poor decision.

His thighs were shaking when he finally put the weight down and he leaned on the wall to stabilize himself. “Fish? You okay?” Logan asked from the yoga mat to his right, staring up at him in concern.

“I’m fine,” Finn lied. “Just straightened up too fast.”

“D’accord.” He could feel Logan’s eyes on his back as he left the gym and headed toward the showers.

Finn’s worst habit was taking care of himself, and it wasn’t something that could be explained away as “oh, silly Harzy” like the washing machine. He made a mental note to take some ibuprofen before driving home so he would be marginally less sore in the morning, but he had the sinking feeling it would be a rough practice the next day.

Remus and Talker were playing some sort of volleyball with an old balloon between their stalls when he entered; he missed getting nailed in the head by a narrow margin and waved off their apologies with a forced smile.

A hand closed around his bicep as he passed, snapping him back to reality as Leo’s bright eyes came into focus. “Hey, lovey, is Lo with you?”

“He’s finishing up.”

A small furrow appeared between Leo’s brows. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope.” Finn faked a yawn and stretched his arm over Leo’s shoulder, dragging him down for a kiss on the cheek. “Cap’s workout just kicked my ass today.”

“That’s what they’re supposed to do,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes playfully as he passed. “You’re not a rookie anymore, O’Hara.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Logan entered the locker room a few minutes later; Finn closed his eyes and breathed in the thick steam of the shower until the fog in his head cleared a bit and he couldn’t feel the skin on his shoulders. It billowed off him as he dressed again and tossed the keys to Leo, who raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“You. There’s a little bit of slush left, and you still need to learn how to drive in it.” And I feel like I’m going to pass out at any minute. He swallowed down the last thought and pasted a teasing grin on his face—what Leo and Logan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. It was his own fault for being lazy in the past.

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

What Leo and Logan didn’t know apparently did hurt them. In hindsight, Finn should have seen that coming before he passed out in the middle of a scrimmage.

The lights of the coach’s office made his headache even worse. “Care to explain?” Arthur asked in a voice like frost. To his left, Sirius was glowering.

“I already told Hestia—”

“Yeah, I know what you told Hestia,” Arthur interrupted. “I want to hear it directly from you.”

Finn sighed through his nose and picked at a stray thread on his jersey. “I…I pushed myself a little too hard at yesterday’s practice and didn’t say anything when I started feeling bad.”

“Why.” Sirius’ eyes were hard as flint.

“Because I didn’t want to be a pain in the ass! I can handle some aching muscles, it’s not a big deal!”

“Not a—”

Arthur put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “That’s enough, Black. O’Hara, I want you to look me in the eyes.” Finn raised his head. “This was a dumbass mistake and all of us expected better from you. Your safety and health come before any workout routine, and it is your responsibility to speak up before you scare the shit out of us by dropping like a rock.”

“I’m sorry, Coach.”

“Apology accepted. I also want you to call Heather when you get home and schedule an appointment with her.” Some of Arthur’s frustration melted into genuine concern and guilt crawled up Finn’s throat. “Doing that to yourself isn’t healthy, Finn. You’re a good man, smart, and I know you know better.”

“Can we talk for a second?” Sirius asked quietly, glancing at Arthur. He nodded and left the room.

“I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck, Finn?” Sirius ran a hand down his face, suddenly pale. “What the fuck was that?”

“It was stupid.”

“Yeah, no, I got that part.”

“I slacked off a set on Monday.”

“Wow, nobody’s ever done that before,” he said sarcastically, sitting down in the chair by the wall as Finn resumed messing with his hem. “You scared the hell out of all of us.”

“I know.”

“You know I’m not mad at you, right? I’m upset that you thought you had to do that at all.”

Tears prickled the backs of Finn’s eyes. “I know.”

“I’m sure as hell not your coach or your dad, but I’m going to say this as your friend, okay?” Sirius leaned over into Finn’s field of view. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you. This team wouldn’t be the same without you. I wouldn’t be the same without you. We need you to take care of yourself, Harzy.”

Finn nodded silently and Sirius gave his hand a quick squeeze, which he returned. “Does everyone know?”

“I told them you were under the weather, nothing more.”

“Classic media answer.” He tried and failed to crack a smile. “Thanks for not telling on me.”

“That’s not my job. My job is herding cats on ice skates for five hours a day.”

Finn’s smile was real that time and he managed a light laugh as he swiped away the dampness on his cheeks. “Love you, man.”

“Love you, too.” Sirius helped him stand up and hugged him tight for a second before letting go. “Speaking as someone who used to do the exact same thing, talking to Heather makes a world of difference.”

“I’ll give her a call.”

The cold feeling returned to Finn’s gut when they stepped out of the office; Leo and Logan were waiting by the opposite wall, looking angrier than Finn had ever seen. Sirius patted his shoulder once before walking off down the hallway toward the locker room, where he would no doubt deflect even more questions.

“Hey,” Finn said, barely above a whisper. Logan continued to stare at the ground.

“You lied to us,” Leo said bluntly. “Several times. Both of us asked if you were alright and you told us you were fine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I accept your apology, but I don’t understand.” He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Finn, this isn’t how we deal with things. We agreed to be a team.”

Finn bit his lip. I fucked this one up. “We did. I am so sorry for scaring you—”

“We’re not mad that you scared us,” Logan snapped, still looking anywhere but his face. “We’re upset that you refuse to take care of yourself and then lied to us about it.”

Leo nudged Logan’s shoulder before turning back. “Why did you do that, Finn?”

“I didn’t want to fall behind. I was just trying to make up for the set I skipped on Monday.”

“What? Twenty squats and some pushups? That’s not worth your health, honey.” The pet name soothed the terror clutching Finn’s heart and he took a deep breath. They still loved him. This wasn’t the end.

“It was a stupid thing to do and it won’t happen again.”

“Good. Let’s go home.” Logan grabbed his duffel bag off the ground and started walking toward the door; Leo looked like he was going to say something, but Finn gently took his elbow.

“He’s going to need a minute,” he said under his breath. Logan was a hothead about many things, but lying was in the top three. Finn knew he hurt him deep.

“Did you…” Leo trailed off and pressed his lips together as they followed Logan into the parking lot. “Did you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”

Finn shook his head. “No. This was all on me.”

“It’s just that I know I’m younger than both of you and I’m new to the hockey lifestyle, but I never want you to think you can’t trust me—”

“Leo.” Finn stopped walking and tugged on Leo’s hand, turning him around. Worry was painted all over his face and it sliced to Finn’s core. “I trust you and Logan with everything, but I got into my head about this and I wasn’t thinking about how it would hurt you. Please believe that.”

Leo sighed. “I do. I just don’t get it.”

“Neither do I, to be honest.” Logan was already sitting in the car with his headphones on as they crossed the lot. “It’s going to take him a while to talk to me, isn’t it?”

“He was really upset.”

“We’ll figure this out.” He tightened his grip on Leo’s hand. “We’ve made it through worse.”

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

The apartment crackled with tension until Finn literally had to stick his head out the open window to get a breath of fresh air. Waves of frustration and hurt rolled off Logan, though he still refused to look Finn in the eyes.

After dinner, Leo slid into the armchair before Logan could get there, leaving only the couch available. They carefully sat on opposite sides—Finn stole glances at Logan out of the corner of his eye for the entire first half of the movie. Ninety minutes of action later, he felt something chilly poking at his calf.

Logan kept his gaze trained on the TV as he scooted his freezing toes under Finn’s legs. Relief flooded Finn’s veins; he felt a little like crying, but instead schooled his expression into a small smile and rested his hand on Logan’s ankle, where it stayed until the movie ended.

Leo had fallen asleep by that time, splayed out sideways on the cushion with his face smushed against the armrest. “Il est mignon,” Logan said softly. There was a beat of silence and he looked over at Finn. “He’s cute.”

“He is.” Finn cleared his throat and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lo. I never meant to hurt you, but I did, and I’m sorry.”

“Promise me you won’t do that again.”

“I won’t.”

Finn had a few bad habits, but backing out on his promises would never be one of them.

[taetaespeaches]

“You know that I would ruin myself over and over again for you.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: angst word count: 2.2K

a/n: Here it is, lovelies. I feel like this is way too hyped but I hope you all get HEARTBROKEN... kidding, loves. This is the “illicit affairs” inspired fic off of Taylor Swift’s folklore. This takes place after “I thought you left” after Yoongi returns from Japan. I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading! :))

MINDLESSLY cleaning up your apartment, you almost didn’t register the ding of your phone, notifying you of a text. It wasn’t until the second ding, that you realized.

Reaching for the device, you could have swore your heart stopped upon reading his name on the screen.

Honey boy: We’re back. Can I see you?

You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell him to leave you alone. You wanted to stand up for yourself and tell him that he’s not allowed to treat you the way he did the past five days. You wanted to leave him in silence like he did you.

But you couldn’t.

You: You can come over tonight. Honey boy: 9 pm? You: That’s fine.

You were beginning to pity yourself even, holding onto this thing that never was. How pathetic.

As the next couple of hours passed before he was supposed to stop by, you nearly sent multiple texts telling him to stay away. Thirty minutes to nine, you started preparing yourself for the conversation you convinced yourself needed to happen. You would tell him if this is ever going to be something, he’s not allowed to promise communication while he’s away and then not follow through. You needed commitment.

Your anxiety was through the roof, your heart racing as 9 pm approached, and then, at 8:48 pm, there was a knock on your door. He was early?

Opening the door, you revealed a sorry looking Yoongi, dark circles under his eyes and his skin pale. His lips curved into a small smile as he greeted you, “Hey, Kid.”

That was all it took for you to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug, his arms easily wrapping around your waist. And it wasn’t that the anger disappeared, but rather just didn’t matter in that moment.

You pulled him inside your apartment, Yoongi kicking the door closed before you kissed him with need. Yoongi slowed your actions by pulling away for a moment, holding your face in his hands as his eyes scanned your features.

“I missed you, you jerk,” you pouted, Yoongi giving you a sorrowful look.

“I’m sorry, Kid,” he whispered, casting his gaze to your feet. He didn’t look like himself. He looked like he was lost within himself. Compassion is a strong emotion. Strong enough to grant forgiveness sometimes, even if only temporary.

Gently, you took his hand and led him to your bedroom, letting go of his hand when you entered the room, walking to your dresser to grab a condom out of the box before making your way to your bed alone. You sat on the mattress and looked to Yoongi as he stood still in your doorframe.

“Come here,” you told him. He stared at you for a moment longer. He opened his mouth to speak, what you took as a protest, choosing to cut him off before he could begin. “Please.”

Yoongi took a deep breath before slowly starting toward you, you pulling your shirt over your head as he made his way across the room. He stood in front of you, allowing you to pull his pants off his body before he crawled on top of you, kissing you with passion. He stayed on top the whole time, holding your hand as he placed gentle kisses to your face.

It felt like an apology. And it was one you were willing to take. That is until it ended.

He rested beside you for a few minutes, running his fingertips over your arm and the side of your body, feeling the dips in your curves. It was nice. Comfortable. And you felt a sense of relief inside your stomach, easing the anxiety of the past few days. But then, he moved to get up.

“Where are you going?” Your tone laced in panic.

He didn’t look back at you as he pulled his bottoms onto his legs, his back facing you. You noted the expanse of it again, appreciating his smooth skin and toned muscles in contrast to the outline of his spine. And then the realization hit you that you were always seeing his back. You were always watching him leave, and you never knew when he’d return.

“I have to get back to the dorm, I told the guys I’d be home in a bit,” he told you. And something snapped inside you.

“They still don’t know about us?” You asked pointedly, Yoongi stalling his movements for moment before he stood to pull his underwear and jeans over his ass. Turning around, he looked at you as he zipped and buttoned his pants.

“I haven’t told them, no,” he started, glancing around the room for a moment to find his shirt. Spotting it, he looked back to you. “Hobi knows of you.”

“Is that why you didn’t contact me while you were in Japan? The boys being around?” You asked. There was the anger again.

“Between that and the busy schedule, yeah,” he confirmed, looking slightly guilty but mostly on the defense.  

You hummed, nodding. Yoongi walked the few feet to his shirt, scooping it up and looking at you as he held it in his grasp. “Hobi knows?” You asked.

“He knows I’ve been seeing you a bit,” he told you just before pulling the shirt over his head. With him fully dressed and you still naked in bed, you suddenly became aware of how vulnerable you felt. You pulled the comforter up around you, curling your legs against your chest.

“I told my coworker about you a couple days ago,” you told him, Yoongi looking at you curiously.

“Yeah?” The words were spoken out of genuine curiosity, as if he wanted to hear what you would have told your coworker about him.

“Yeah. She asked what we are, and I didn’t know how to answer,” you told him. You were preparing to fight, and you didn’t care anymore if it would ruin everything you’ve been clinging so tightly to.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his eyebrows pulling together.

“Well you’ve never given any indication of us being in a relationship, so I couldn’t call you my boyfriend, but it felt crude to call you a fuck buddy,” you told him, holding some venom in the final two words.

“You thought about calling me a fuck buddy?” He asked, anger now seeping into his usually gentle features.

“The thought crossed my mind.” Your tone was cold, and you knew it was. It was supposed to be.

“What the fuck?” He questioned angrily. “That’s what you think this is?” Any intention of leaving was now gone as he planted his feet, staring daggers at you from a few feet from the bed.

“I don’t know what this is, that’s the problem,” you informed him, standing up to find something to wear. You kept the blanket draped over you, your back to him as you spotted your clothes. “Sometimes I feel like you’re the one, and I didn’t even think that was a thing before I met you,” you admitted, pulling your underwear on. “But other times, I feel like I’m being used,” you said as you pulled your shirt over your head, “or that I’m just here for when you need-”

“Used?” He questioned, the word drenched in hurt.

“Ever since we started having sex, you started pulling away,” you told him, turning to look at him.

“That’s not true,” he shook his head, a mixture of disappointment and anger on his face.

“It is true,” you insisted. “Look at you right now,” you gestured to him, pointing out his fully dressed form as he prepared to leave after coming over for an hour to have sex. “What am I supposed to think?”

He looked down at himself before looking up at you again, desperately searching for words. “I didn’t come over here for sex, I came over because I missed you,” he told you, his face scrunched up. “You initiated this,” he gestured to the bed.

“Right, well excuse me for trying to feel close to you,” you pointedly retorted.

“You think we have to be having sex to feel close to me?” He asked. You could tell he was feeling a whirlwind of emotions but so were you.

You shrugged, staring at him. “You left me in complete silence.” You spoke the words in a quieter voice than you’d been using, and you watched as they penetrated his fragile shield of thick skin.

“I told you when we started this whole thing that it would be complicated,” he reminded you, you shaking your head. “I told you so many times, I warned you that I wouldn’t be able to give you a normal relationship.”

“I’m not looking for a normal relationship, Yoongi, I’m just looking for some consistency and some sort of” you searched for the word, “label, so I don’t feel like I’m making all this shit up,” you told him, tears forming in your eyes.

“Making what up?” He questioned, his voice quiet as he stared at you intently.

“How I feel about you, and how I thought you felt about me,” you admitted, a tear falling down your cheek before wiping it away quickly. You could have sworn Yoongi took a step toward you before deciding against it. “I feel fucking insane when I get so much affection and care from you one morning and then you’re gone for five days without a word. And then when you come back, I’m just supposed to act like your silence didn’t hurt?”

He stared at you for a moment, waiting for you to continue, and his continued silence made the whole fight hurt so much more.

“Just tell me what we are so I can at least put my guard up, because you have the power to completely break my heart,” you said as more tears fell, you groaning in frustration at the evidence of your pain, wiping them away aggressively.

“I warned you of all of this. You said you were capable of making your own decisions. You kept me around. You asked for this,” he said, regret immediately taking over his features.

“I asked for this?” You questioned angrily.

“That’s not what I meant,” he interjected.

“I didn’t ask to be treated like a convenient play-thing for when you need to get off, or like a fucking ego boost for when you’re feeling insecure or lonely,” you spat, knowing fully well that the words would hurt him.

“That’s not what this is though,” he told you sadly, the anger leaving him.  

“I guess I was wrong when I said I could handle the terms of this relation-whatever the fuck this is,” you corrected. “Because this is not working for me,” you told him, Yoongi’s eyes widening in what appeared to be panic. “I feel pathetic and taken advantage of, Yoongi, do you not see that?”

“I’m not taking advantage of you, Kid, jesus christ,” he defended, his tone defeated.

“Don’t call me that,” you sobbed. “Don’t call me that right now.” You visibly saw Yoongi take a sharp breath of air in. “Do you see me?” You asked, both of you staring at each other for a moment. “I’m a mess for you. And you know that I would ruin myself over and over again for you. And you’re just letting me do it,” you cried, wrapping your arms around your body.

Yoongi stared at you speechless, his eyes raking over every inch of you as he realized what you were saying. He was breaking you down, intentional or not.  

“I’m sorry,” he told you sincerely, backing away from you. “I-fuck I’m sorry.” Without another word, he turned around and made his way through your apartment, you following after him angrily.

“So that’s it? You’re walking away?” You asked through your tears, watching him as he grabbed your door knob.

“What do you want me to do?” He turned around to look at you, tears in his eyes. “I’m ruining you right?” You stared at each other, hopeless and directionless, both of you running through your history, trying to figure out where things could have been changed to avoid this exact moment from ever happening. “I just- I can’t give you more than this, baby.” You flinched at the term of affection, and he sighed. “As much as I want to give you more, I fucking can’t,” he told you, his voice shaking with emotion as the words left his lips.

The man in front of you was lost and confused, regret and heartbreak evident in his expression, his eyes tired and dark, his skin lack luster compared to its usual glow. You had all but told him to leave, but halfway out the door you felt betrayed that he was actually leaving.

It was a flaw of yours to use anger in times of hurt; to throw mean remarks instead of what you really wanted to say. And you put that on display with your next words.

“Make sure no one sees you leave. And heaven forbid your members see you come back flushed, better tell them you were out for a run,” you told him viciously. “We can act like we never happened,” you added quietly. Yoongi nodded slowly before exiting your apartment, closing the door quietly behind him, his clothed back being the last you saw of him.

[oneirataxiahiraeth]

Hey darling, i was wondering if i can have a request with ron weasley x reader. They start 7th year, the first morning of class she is getting ready with the girls (Hermione and ginny are her roomates) and she realized she packed her 5th year skirt and not the new one, she wears it anyways but its a little too short like to the mid thigh, the boys are always whistlering at her, looking at her legs and throwing "compliments". Ron doesn't like it, it makes him a little insecure but she reminds him she only loves him and she is only him's

I loveeee this concepttt, and I hope you like it<3

Promise?

Pairings : fem!reader x Jealous!RonWeasely

Warnings : Language, jealous Ron, catcalls, unprotected sex, oral (m.), classroom quickie, not proof read

Word count : something over 4K

You were totally going to flip out.

You spent so long making sure you had everything packed for the semester and here you were. It was frustrating to you, how could you miss this? This skirt was a size and a half too small, the most you moved the wrong way your whole asscheek would've been on the newsletters front page.

"It doesn't look that bad, it's wearable." Ginny stated, genuinely not finding a problem in you skirt as she brush through her red locks. "Besides you definitely have the legs for it." She tried to cheer you up as you stared at yourself in the body length mirror.

It's was your first day of year 7 and you were already off to a bad start. You wore this exact skirt on this exact day 2 years ago. You had grown since then, you were no longer a child, yet somehow you still managed to squeeze yourself right into this god awful skirt. It stopped down right at your mid thigh, and to say this was out of your comfort zones would be an understatement. You were on the verge of just deciding not to show up for classes today. Though you knew Hermione was never going to let that actually happen.

"You think I'd get away with it?" You pouted, and both of the girls nodded.

"You look like some of the muggle girls I see back home. They have interesting taste, personally I'd never pull it off, but you do, very well." Hermione spoke in hopes to cheer you up.

It didn't work very well.

"And if anyone asks just say you're making a fashion statement." Gin spoke, sending the idea through your head for only moment before you shook it out.

"No one makes fashion statements at Hogwarts... it's basically forbidden." You whined, stomping your foot on the ground.

"Says who?"

"It's an unspoken rule amongst like... everyone." You sighed in response.

Ginny rolled her eyes, standing from the edge of her bed. It was time to head for breakfast and meet up with the boys. You've been rambling about this since you got back to campus. You had yet to see Ronald, and you were overly ecstatic to see his beautiful face yet again. He and Harry sent you letters all summer long but you were busy doing things back in your hometown. You wanted to sneak out last night, but the two of you agreed on the morning. Besides, most of your classes were together, including your off period meaning you too got to do whatever you pleased for a whole hour. What's not exciting about that?!

"We have to get going soon, y/n. I'm hungry, and Hermione is halfway out the door already." Ginny spoke, grabbing you bag from off the floor as well. "No one is going to notice, you look fine." She reassured you. "And if anyone says anything about my sister-in-law we will be having some words." She smiled sweetly making your cheeks hot.

"Me and Ron aren't even married." You fought back you smiled as you took your bag from the girl. She was basically like the little sister you've always wanted. "And after today I might die of embarrassment, so we never will be."

"I think you look great. Now. Can we go?" Hermione stood, ready to start her day.

"Ugh, fine." You groan, both of the girls smiling widely at you. "But I'm only giving myself until 3 class before I started sobbing." You sighed as Hermione took your hand in hers. Leading you to the door.

"Please, you won't make it past snap me if he sees you in the hallway." Ginny scoffed, your eyes widening as you realized she was right.

"What if he dress codes me? Or all the teachers think I'm a whore? Oh god, I'm going to get kicked out-"

"Y/N! You're skirts not even that short, and I was talking about you holding in tears!" Ginny sighed, closing the room down behind the 3 of you.

You couldn't help it, you were on a rollercoaster of emotions up all the way to the dining hall. That's where the lot of your friends stood in the halls catching up and sending you sweet smiles and took you how good you looked. You're cheeks were burning hot, and the compliment made you want to curl up into a ball.

"Look, there they are!" Hermione spoke, pointing to the two boys, already digging into the food on their plates. You noticed the extra cup of juice and muffin on Ron's plate, he saved it just for you, knowing how uneasy your stomach is in the mornings.

A bright smile formed on your face as you began making your way towards your boyfriend. Your smile slowly faded as loud group of ravenclaw boys in the corner of the cafeteria sent loud whistle noises through the air. Your eyes went to them immediately before you noticed their sights set on you. Ron's head turned slowly too, not very interested in whatever poor girl they were harassing until his gaze was set on you.

His jaw nearly dropped to the floor. You looked beautiful, as you always did. You were walking with that smile you do when your uncomfortable, and your finger freshly manicured fingers gripping the strap of your book bag. You were dressed in your regular uniform, except when you scanned you over his eyes got stuck on the length of your legs. They were nice, they looked warm, and comfortable. He's see your legs before though, he's seen each of your boys part very close and intimately before but, now everyone was seeing what was usually reserved for his eyes only.

"People are staring." You mumbled.

"Let's just get to the table so they have nothing to stare at." Hermione spoke and you nodded.

"Nice skirt, Y/L/N!" A voice called out from somewhere in the cafeteria.

You ignored the comment, heading straight for your boyfriend who stood quickly from his seat at the table to greet you.

You're smile returned as you approached, neither of you waiting too long to wrap up in each other's arms. You threw your arms over his shoulder, his cinnamony scent taking over you nostrils almost instantly. His arms wrapped around you waist, gripping you tightly as he soaked in your presence. You felt your body release all tension it held and for a brief moment in time you forgot all about-

"Hey y/n," you're attention broke away from the warmth of Ron's body sinking into yours to the tall brunette with a bright smile on his face. "There's a party in the commons later, you should drop by." He spoke, eyes falling down your body, taking their sweet time in returning back to your face.

"Oh uhm, sure thing Cedric." You spoke, pulling away from you're red headed boyfriend.

"You guys can come too if you want." He spoke looking at the rest of your friends. "Can't wait to hear all about your summer, y/n." He spoke to you, sending a wink before waving goodbye.

You and Cedric had a few classes together, but you were never super close friends. Definitely not close enough to be inviting each other to party's.

"Since when are you Cedric best friends?" Your boyfriend asked noticing the way Cedric totally checked you out and how you didn't even notice.

"We're not. He was just being friendly." You shrugged it off, not seeing much more too it. You sent your boyfriend a sweet smile, unable to contain your happiness that you were finally reunited. "Now am I going to have to pretend that I want you to kiss me or are you going to read my mind?" You joked. Ron smiled, shaking off the weird feelings. His hands moved up to cup your face, bringing yours up to his until your lips came together. He tasted like orange juice and some type of tart berry.

"Oh young love. I love love." Lunas voices spoke breaking your kiss apart. Suddenly you pushed your boyfriend away to hug your other friend Luna. You missed her all too much this summer, seeing her again made your heart happy. "Hello." She giggled.

"It's good to see you, Luna. I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too, y/n." Your friend smiled sweetly as you finally let her go, giving her space to breathe. "Bold fashion choice, really shows off your legs. You have nice legs." She commented, making your cheeks turn hot.

"Thank you, Luna." You smiled. "It wasn't really intentional, but I have to stick it out for the next few days." You explain and she nods.

"Hey y/n!" A voice called from across the cafeteria again. "Looking good!"

  You smile a bit, not really sure how to respond to the comment. You haven't changed much over the summer. Maybe you grew a few centimeters, and changed your hair up a bit, but you were still the same old y/n. It was like you haven't know half of this dining hall for the past 6/7 years of you life.

  "You've got to be kidding me." Ron scoffed, eyeing around the room from who the sound came from.

  "Ronnie, it's whatever, let's just sit, yeah" you hummed looking the spot he had reserved to you. "Muffins, my favorite." You tried changing the subject but you could still tell how the comment made from some asshole across the way bothered him. His cheeks were glowing red and his eyes squinting a bit. His lips pressed together in a thin line as you guided him to sit back down at the breakfast table.

  The day past very slowly. Teachers making snide remarks about skin, groups of girls whisper in the halls as you passed, and the occasional whistle call from a boy who just couldn't help himself.

  You were invited to the same party about 4 different times today. Each times with your boyfriend present, as if he wasn't standing right there. Some 5th year even tried asking you out in front of Ron, you saved his life by not respond and just pretending you didn't hear. Ron would've ripped the kids ears off if you acknowledged the plain foolery.

   "Where are you going, Ronald?" You asked as class ended. The two of you were supposed to spend your first free period of the school year together in the garden with sweets you snuck here from back home. Right now he just wanted to get out of the classroom as quickly as possible. "Ron!" You spoke louder, your steps quick in order to catch up with him.

  "I heard you the first time, y/n." He turned his head to gripe. Your eyebrows furrowed together at the unnecessarily aggressive comment.

  "If you didn't want to hang out with me, you could've just said. You don't have to be a dick about it." You scoffed, shaking your head even though he couldn't see your obviously hurt visual reaction.

  His hand reached out for your wrist, before you could walk away. You didn't want to cause a scene in the hallway full of students rushing to be out of the halls in a jiffy. You allowed Ron to drag you along with him, until he opened up an empty class room door. He pulled you in, shut the door behind you and spelling it shut so no one would interrupt the two of you.

  "You're not seriously going to that party tonight are you?" He scoffed out first, setting his bag on the ground as he turned to look at you with disappointment.

  "People are expecting me there, Ron. Everyone is going!" You sighed.

  "Doesn't mean you have to!"

"Is that why you're upset? A party? Bloody hell Ronald." You cursed, annoyed with the red head.

  "I'm upset because guys have been flirting with you like crazy all day and you just bloody let them!" He growled as you set your own bag down. "Don't act as if you had all of these friends last year, when we both know you didn't. The only reason the want you to go is so they can stare at your ass some more!" He fired your eyes widening a bit. It made perfect sense... You rarely ever spoke to Cedric before, or half of the boys that approached you today. You took all of their friendly gestures as... friendly gestures. Pulling out seats for you, complimenting your appearance, everything, you thought they were just being kind.

  "Excuse me, I don't see the worst in everyone. It's a new year, we're growing up, they were just being nice! You defend."

  "To you!" He snaps.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You're arms dropped from being crossed over your chest. His mouth opened to respond before shutting again, shaking his head and muttering a quick "never mind, it's nothing". "What did you mean, Ron." You spoke seriously, honestly quite annoyed with his behavior.

  "I've had to watch every boy in this school practically drool all over you since breakfast." He spoke up. You had forgotten about breakfast. "The whistles, the compliments, I even heard some Slytherin talk about winning you over at the party tonight." He sighed, explaining his anger. Was he jealous?

  "But literally everyone knows I'm yours, Ronnie." You respond in a softer tone, taking a step towards him. "I've been your for almost a whole year now, The thought of not being with you hasn't even crossed my mind."

  "Do you think they care, y/n?" He scoffed again. "Your hot, your smart, and you have a boyfriend, your a perfect target!" He whined.

  "I'm not going to be won over by cheap pick up lines and bad booze."

  "Are you sure? Because Cedric seems to think that your already begging him to sweep you off your feet. Was whispering about it all class." He pouted and you heart dropped into your stomach. "And why wouldn't you? He's good looking, sporty, funny, charming, and apparently he's a great kisser."

   "I wouldn't because I don't love him. I love you. I'll always love you, I'll never love anyone the way I love you. Your good looking, smart, you can be sporty if you didn't doubt yourself every five seconds-" he rolled his eyes, attempting to turn away from you before you grabbing his hand pulling him closer to you. "Like your doing now... your hilarious to me, Ronnie. You're the most interesting person I know, and I'm pretty sure your the best kisser to ever grace this sad run down planet." You spoke, pulling him until your bodies touched, placing his hands on your waist as you looked up into his soft eyes. "I love you, Ronald."

  "Do you promise?" He spoke quickly and you nodded.

"I'm going to marry you one day" A smile slowly found its way to his red face, allowing the anger and sadness to flush right through him.

  "I love you, y/n. More than life itself."

"Promise?" You smiled back.

   "Would I ever lie to the mother of my future children?"

  You stood on your tiptoes, leaning your head up until your lips pressed against his. He still tasted like orange juice, the tart berry faded as the day went past. His hands on your waist squeezing as you arms went over his shoulders. Your lips moving against his gave him a good taste of your cherry flavored lip balm. It was a new one, last year your stuck to a watermelon flavored balm.

   You hadn't even noticed the two of you were moving until he helped you hop up on one of the lab tables. Your hands moving down to unbuckle his pants as quickly as possible before he pulled apart your kiss.

  "Are you sure you wanna do this here?" He asked, only because he knew you would die of embarrassment if caught by anyone. He had no problem having sex with you in here, it's not like he hadn't that about it tens of times core.

  "Take me, right here." You nodded, unbuttoning his pants as you focused on one thing. "You know, I've really really missed you this past few months." Your bottom lip caught between your teeth. "I've missed you over and over and over..." you hummed, tugging his pants down enough until they weren't in your way.

  "That's a lot of missing me." Ron swallowed, you fingers slipping past the waist band of his boxers pulling them down a bit before you pulled out his cock with precum already leaking from his tip.

  "Mmhmm." You lost count of how many times you struggled to get yourself off without Ron. It was frustrating and made you regret not spend at least a few weeks with him and his family. "I've felt Kinda... empty." You spoke spreading your legs for him as he prepped himself.

  "I could help you out with that... make you feel more... full." He offered and you nodded. His hands slipping under the skirt that was no basically showing your whole ass, pushing you black panties to the sides. You were already dripping as his fingers ran up you slit to make sure you were ready for him.

  "Please Ronnie." You moaned, as he lined himself up with your entrance.

   He looked to you for last second approval, you nod, pulling his body closer to yours by his tie, connecting your lips once more before he finally pushed into you. You both groaned at the sensation, he stretched you out until you felt the pleasurable burn spreading through your groin. Not stopping until your hips met and he was deep inside of you. Your walls clenched around him, missing the feeling of the burn he usually ensued.

   He drew his hips back only a bit before slowly rocking himself into you. Your ass on the very edge of the table. Legs wrapped around his waist and he fucked into you. Lips still connected in sloppy slow sensual kisses that you dreamt about so many nights this summer. Your muffled moans filled the dead silence in the empty classroom the two of you were occupying. The sounds only encouraging his movements as his hips sped up in pace, hands down to grip your thighs to keep your legs apart for him. This wasn't the way either of you wanted to wanted to greet each other after 3 sum months, but it'd have to do.

  "God, your so tight!" Ron moaned through the sloppily kisses. His voice made you clench around him once more making his hips stutter as he moved faster and harder.

  "You feel so good baby."you moaned, voice in a high pitch and out of breath.

   His lips moved from your to down your neck, arm wrapped around your back to keep you steady. You were trying to keep yourself quiet in case any stragglers in the halls happened to walk by. You let out tiny gasps and squeals whenever he hit a particular deep spot in your cunt that nearly drove you mad.

   "F-fuck"

His hand moved from your thigh to your clit. Rubbing harsh circle on the bundle of nerves. Your jaw fell open as you tried to focus on a single point of pleasure to celebrate, with his cock hitting your g spot with every thrust and your clit sending pleasurable shocks through the rest of your body it was hard to focus on just one thing.

   "M's-so cl-ose-" you choked out, unable to really forming words.

  "I know, babe, cum for me, Princess." Ronald murmured, brain foggy with lust. Hips still rocking into

yours as you desperately tried to hold on for just a bit longer. It became harder to control to noises slipping past your lips. Uttering his name in your whines as he brought you over the edge, hips moving a bit slower as you clenched tightly around him, legs shaking a bit as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

“Oh fuck” you moaned, breathing heavy and hips still rocking into his.

“Almost forgot how pretty you are when you do that.” He smirks, your eyebrows furrowing a bit.

“When I do what?” You hum, he opened his mouth to respond but he just shut it back again before shaking his head.

“Nothing.” He shrugged.

“N- wait, did you..?” You peered down between the two of you.

“Uhm no, it’s fine- I don’t even have condom on me-”

“I can-”

“No, you don’t have to-”

“I want to.” You stated, smiling at the way it was so easy to read each other’s minds. “Really.”

“I mean... yeah, uhm okay.” He spoke, cheeks turning a bright red color. You nodded letting out a slight moan as he pulled out of you. He helped you off the table, allowing you to fix your skirt before sinking down to your knees. You looked up to him through your lashes basically causing his insides to melt at the sight.

You wasted no time in making sure he was satisfied. Your lips arm lips warming around him, tongue collecting all of your own juices as you took him further into your mouth. You let out a soft moan, sending the vibrations through his spine earning a groan from him. His mouth fell open as he felt his tip touch the back of your throat. His eyes glued on your lips as his cock disappeared in your mouth over and over. He fought the strong urge to see just how far you could take him in your pretty mouth before you couldn’t breathe.

“Bloody hell, just like that, y/n.” He moaned, hand finding its way to the back of your head, only pushing you into him gently. You didn’t mind it, you actually very often craved the way he usually took control. That ache between your legs returned, the one that usually made your mind foggy and made bad decisions seem not so bad in the long run.

The ground cold on your knees, skirt wrapped tightly around your body, boyfriend beginning to twitch as your push your limit in how far he could go. Tears polling in the bottom of your eyes, threatening to ruin the makeup you had done perfectly for the day. You felt his cock twitching in your mouth enjoying the noises coming from his throat as he neared his high.

“Fuck I’m gonna-” he moaned before spilling his hot seed into you mouth. Without think you swallow I’m around him, milking him for whatever he was worth before he had to pull you away from him. Both of you slightly out of breath before as he helped you to your feet. Your lips glossy from a mixture of spit and his cum, which he didn’t seem to mind as he pulled you in for one final kiss.

“We should skip next period and lunch, have some fun... I haven’t seen you all summer and I really missed you.” You emphasized on the really, as you pulled away from the kiss.

“And as much as I’m not opposed to that, you’d castrate me tomorrow for letting you skip the first day just to have sex.”

“Mm, you get me.” You giggled, watching as he fixed himself so he could the two of you could return to normal civilization. “Now we should go before someone tries to get in here.” You mentioned, fixing your own skirt once again, and making sure you had no remnants of Ron on your face or clothes. You helped fix his tie until you both looked as well as two people could after fucking in a classroom. “Do you think we could sneak out tonight? Have a picnic under the Stars somewhere?” You asked, earning a light hearted chuckle from your boyfriend.

“What about your party?” He asked.

“They’ll just have to miss us.” You shrugged, taking Ron’s hand in yours as you know lace your bag on you shoulder.

He didn’t respond but you knew the answer. He just smile as pulled the both of you towards the door stopping as you heard the quick tapping of someone’s feet’s along the stone floors. You both paused in the doorway, hearts beating before watching your dark haired best friend turn the corner. He spotted the two of you quickly with a smile, out of breath and not really in the position to stop but he did so anyways.

“Woah, mate, what are you doing?” Ron asked, confusion lightly his face.

Harry’s eyes flickered from you back to Ron before rolling to the back of his head out of annoyance.

“That thing we said we were going to do earlier. You disappeared so I did it myself... and well... I got caught, so if you will excuse me-" you’re eyebrows furrowed as you looked to Ron with a sudden pale and tense figure.

“What did you do?” You groaned.

“YOU’RE DEAD POTTER!” A familiar clump of voices called, echoing through the halls before you’re eyes went wide.

“Tell you later?” He offered before you rolled your eyes gripping your boyfriend hand as you both prepared to run along side your friend.

[sleepygamerotaku]

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My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

~|Your Hoodie...|~{Part One}

Paring:

Scaramouche X Reader

Prompt:

none

Content Warnings:

angst, cuss words, violence(?), crying, mental breakdown(s), implied established relationship, tue story is written in a first person POV, lmk if i missed anything

Reader pronouns:

not specified (read in first person)

Authors note:

I have been working on this since July 25th of this year... i Have gotten nowhere close to finishing it so i decided to break it up into chapters. this is Chapter one of a -however many parts it takes me to finish this shit- part story. This was inspired by the song Hoodie by Hey Violet! i have cried FAT crocodile tears whenever i would try writinrg onto this so there's that i suppose... Whenever i finish them i will post the next chapters here! might do Scara's POV later on but idk-

❈~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~❈

"You dumbass..." He hissed. Scaramouche always said that me... But he always said it a lighter, semi-playful tone. He never truly meant it. But this time... It was mean. He said it with genuine anger, evidently clear in his voice. The same voice that always teased me... The same voice that lulled me back to sleep whenever i had a nightmare... The same exact voice that gave me butterflies.

The same exact voice I used to love, now filled with hatred and anger. I know he had a short temper. I accepted that the day we met. "You never shut up... And you don't listen either..." He heaved at me again, the tone of his voice was still angry... Because he wasn't just angry... He was infuriated. Infuriated at me. I felt the tears as they stung the corner of my eyes. I didn't bother wiping them away as they rolled down my cheeks.

I've witnessed him snap before. But he's never snapped at me... "I'm... Just... FUCKING DONE WITH YOU!"

He quickly turned around and punched the wall. I thought he going to punch me, so instinctively i flinch, a small squeak escaping my lips as well. I gulp and with all my strength i muster his name. "S-scara-" He simply growled in response, cutting me off. "I CAN'T DEAL WITH YOU ANYMORE!!"

......... And just like that... He stormed out of the door without another word.

I held my hands close to my chest and i let myself fall to the floor. I begin to sob uncontrollably while i clutch onto my shirt and let the crocodile tears fall, and fall, and fall. I continue to cry and screaming in the middle of the living room floor.

I guess he just doesn't love me anymore... I annoyed him too much... I knew i was just a burden to him... Did he even love me to begin with..? Did he mean it when he said he loved me..? Did he mean it when he said he trusted me..? Did he simply take pity on me so he didn't have to see me being pathetic..?

The negative thoughts flowed as quick as my tears and i didn't know what to do... So i kept sobbing. I kept sobbing until it hurt my cheeks. I wiped away the tears and sat there trying to calm down and fully comprehend whatever just happened...

After i calmed down i stood up and glanced at the digital clock on the coffee table. It read [ 1 : 17 AM] usually me and Scara would be asleep in our shared bedroom by now... but he stormed out of the apartment so he wasn't there anymore.

The bed never felt so empty before... I got comfortable underneath the covers but i couldn't fall asleep for awhile... I was too worried about Scaramouche... Was he okay? Where is he going to sleep tonight? Is he even going to be home by tomorrow? He said he couldn't deal with me anymore so i wondered if he would come back. Slowly, drowsiness began to consume me before i finally fell into a slumber...

(~Time-skip~)

I feel my eyes flutter open and the light of the sun seeped through the windows of the bedroom. Last night was playing on repeat in my mind. It's all i can think about.

"You never shut up... And you don't listen either... I'm... Just... FUCKING DONE WITH YOU!"

I thought of Scaramouche's irritated voice and cruel words that he directed at me. I didn't even realize i was crying and hugging his pillow until my tears fell on my hand. There really isn't a reason for me to still be upset over all of this.

I slide out of bed and stand up. I don't move i just stand at the side of my bed. No thoughts filled my mind i simply stood there. My eyes slowly wandered around the room before setting on my closet door.

I heaved a heavy breathe and started walking. I might as well change out of the clothes i was wearing now. I don't have anything better to do anyways. Scara isn't here anymore and i don't even know if he will come back. He probably hates me now...

I slide open the closet door and look at all the clothes i have. but there was another half of clothes that weren't mine.

inside the closet was Scaramouche's hoodie that he always wore. he would wear it all day and put it away before bed... he must be so cold without it...

See the full post

72 notes - Posted December 4, 2022

#4

Deteriorate

Paring:

Chuuya Nakahara x Dying!Reader

Prompt:

None

Content Warnings:

Angst, slight violence, death, slight swearing, lmk if i missed any potential triggers pls!!

Reader pronouns:

Not mentioned

Authors note:

I started writing this like- a month ago I think?? Either way i hope you enjoy!! This is supposed to take place before Dazai leaves the Port Mafia just so you know. Also yea im aware that Chuuya gets exhausted after using his corruption but sShShhHhhUUuSHhhHh

❈~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~❈

Chuuya Nakahara's maniacal laughter echoed throughout the woodland area. The gravity-defying plasma balls flung from his hands and onto the ground practically exploding on impact.

The more he would throw the more aggressive he would get. It's not like he enjoyed this. He couldn't control himself. He never could control himself when he uses corruption.

Before Chuuya activated his corruption he told you run away as far from him as possible. He couldn't risk hurting you while on his blind uncontrollable rage. But of course, you didn't want leave Chuuya. You needed reassurance that he'd be safe.

You hid a little bit away behind a tree, watching Chuuya from afar. Each orb of energy he threw slowly but surely were getting more and more close to you.

The enemy was already taken out so there was no need for Chuuya's corruption to still be activated.

It didn't take long for Dazai to take notice of your stubbornness. Dazai ran as quickly as possible to Chuuya to cancel his ability before he could hit you.

You noticed how dangerously close Chuuya was to you so you tried to run away from him. You 'tried' to run but you didn't succeed.

Dazai was so close to grabbing ahold of Chuuya's arm. However Dazai's fingers barely grazed his skin. Chuuya lifted his arm and released a large ball of energy. In you're direction. It was too late.

There was a blinding surge of light followed by an intense blast that sent all nearby debris flying. The moment of the impact Daizai grabbed Chuuya's arm frantically.

The first thing he heard when Chuuya regained control over himself was something he never wanted to hear.

Your screams filled the air. Chuuya's vision cleared only to blur once more as tears swelled in his eyes. He jerked his arm from Dazai and ran to the source of the screams.

The screaming slowly died down into uneven breathing. Chuuya lowered himself to your body that was laying limp on the ground. Your eyes barely stayed open for mere seconds before closing.

"B-babe!" Chuuya yelled wrapping his arms around you pulling you closer to him "Shit. Babe... Are you okay..?" He tried to remain calm but when his questions where only answered with silence he began to loose his cool. His eyes widened as he held you gently in his arms.

Tears started to well up inside his eyes. "Damnit! Ple- please..! Just fucking answer me please! Say something! Don't... Die on me..." He cried over your body that was slowly growing more cold.

"Chu- i- l-love........ Y-you.........." You manage to finally breathe out. Chuuya's panic only thickened his tears grew larger and more flowing until they where warm rivers flowing down his sore cheeks that where throbbing from how much he was screaming and sobbing

"NO! Y-YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME HERE ALL BY MYSELF!"

He pulled you're cold, heavy body to his chest, like he always did... But he didn't hear you're sweet breathes and he didn't feel you're intoxicating heartbeat like he always did. All he heard, all he felt, and all he saw... It was nothing but empty silence that was being drowned out by you're lovers frantic cries.

"Y-you idiot.... How... Could you just die on me... Without a fight... Without even a final kiss goodbye...!?"

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84 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

#3

reblog to boop the nose of the person you reblogged from

104 notes - Posted June 30, 2022

#2

Chuuya Nakahara Comfort Headcanons

Paring:

Chuuya Nakahara x reader

Prompt:

None

Content Warnings:

Lmk if there's anything triggering pls!

Reader pronouns:

Not mentioned

Authors note:

I think this is the quickest I've ever written anything. Usually it takes at least a few weeks for me to finish something and i finished this in one day. Anyway @chuuyas--boo this is dedicated to you!

❈~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~❈

♡　Chuuya absolutely hates seeing you sad. He wants you to be happy. You're like a ray of sunshine for him, and it really upsets him to see you so down.

♡　If it was someone who said or did something that made you feel like this, they'd better pray that Chuuya takes pity on them. Someone had the audacity to hurt his love? Chuuya will make them go through hell for that.

♡　But if you're just feeling sad then Chuuya will pull you into his lap(doesn't matter if you're taller than him or not, the mans got thighs of steel/hj) and hold onto you while telling you everything he loves about you.

♡　Will literally cuddle you until you either feel better or tell him to stop. Of course if you tell him to stop he'll get all pouty and disappointed.♡　Chuuya loves you're smile so much it isn't even funny. He would give almost anything to see you smile and hear you laugh.

♡　Will try distracting you with cuddles and affection. If that doesn't work well just have to tickle the sadness away.

♡　He is a low-key softie and nobody will tell me different. At first he seems really blunt and acts as though he doesn't give a damn about anyone or their feelings.

♡ But in private? That's a completely different story. He can and he will give you affection for hours on end. He doesn't have off button either.

♡　He will do absolutely anything for you. Wether it be doing something for you or simply being they're. He's all hands on deck if means you're happy.

♡　Also i know that i already mentioned this but he will not hesitate to throw hands with whoever tries to hurt you in any way. He is very protective of you.

♡　If you need anything don't even bother getting up. Chuuya will immediately make you sit back down, and then he'll wander off. He'll end up coming-out lol t back with whatever it was you needed as well as a warm blanket and cup of hot chocolate, with a bonus gravity hug.

♡　Words of affirmation go brrr

♡　"I'm so proud of you babe" "you have no idea how lucky i am to be with you" "I love you so much. I hope you know that" "Your so strong" "you deserve all the hugs and kisses in the world plus more!"

♡　He love's kissing you in certain areas and telling you why Loves them. Hell kiss you're nose and say that it's so cute and fun to boop. He'll kiss you're knuckles and tell you that he loves holding you're hand and how he wishes he could never let go. The list goes on and on.

♡　If you ever say that there's something you don't like about yourself he will tell you at least 68 reasons why he loves that about you.

♡　He wants you be happy so whenever you're sad you can count on him to make you feel better.

♡　He love's you too much to see you hurting. All he wants is for there to be a sincere smile on your face and happiness to loom in your eyes. Because to Chuuya, everything about you is perfect in every way.

>××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××<

thank you for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated<3 please don't copy/translate my works to different platforms.

191 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

imagine having a f/o who's life mission is to fluster you

262 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[walkingdaryls]

silent toast

pairing: loki x female!reader

requested: nope :)

ugh i am not proud of this at all but whatever

summary: in which you attend a family friend’s party with loki, and realize just how much tranquility he brings you

You’d attended these kinds of parties your entire life. They were thrown every couple of weekends - at either your family’s house or your family friend’s - as a way to enjoy life together, and forget about everything else.

And with you recently becoming an Avenger a couple years ago, your family friends were dying to have you attend their usual gatherings whenever you’d visit your hometown. Sometimes, if the Avengers had some time off, you’d bring them along. Your family and family friends would swarm the poor superheros, making sure they didn’t have a dull time. And they never did.

Especially Tony.

You were now the talk of every single gathering, every single time you attended.

On this particular weekend, Tony had given you a couple days off, so you decided to take one of the private jets with Loki, your magnificent boyfriend, to visit your parents again.

Loki had already met your family numerous times, and had even attended one or two of those parties with your family’s friends. It was quite a large step for him to take, but he did it just for you, and you were so grateful for him. At first, everyone was a bit on edge meeting Loki, but upon seeing the adoration for him in your eyes (and in his for you), everyone warmed up to the god pretty quickly.

And so here you were, wearing your favorite short sundress, sipping on some wine as you chattered with your dad and his friends. This time, the party was at your dad’s best friend’s house. They had just moved in, so it obviously called for a housewarming party.

The ambience was nice. The lights were dim, the aroma of well-cooked food filled the house, and upbeat music sounded throughout the space. And voices chattered everywhere, fully into their own conversations with one another.

For the past couple hours you’d been here, you’d been swarmed with the usual Avengers questions.

“Did you bring your suit with you?”

“Is Tony Stark here?”

“Can you show us your powers again?”

“Did you expect to end up with Loki?”

“How does it feel to be one of Earth’s mightiest heroes?”

“Do you know how proud your parents are of you?”

No one had ill intentions with those, of course, but you always ended up feeling stuffy and overwhelmed at these gatherings. Too much attention on yourself never felt good. You have no idea how Tony could do it.

You sighed, “Excuse me, I’m gonna go grab some more of that salmon.” The men let you go, and you eagerly walked towards the now-empty table of appetizers.

As you absentmindedly served yourself some smoked salmon on the small plate, your eyes searched for the one person you could never feel overwhelmed by.

Loki.

Oh, my sweet, sweet Loki. My love.

There he was, standing across the room, talking quite animatedly with your mother and a couple other women she was friends with. His crisp black suit stood out compared to all the other men’s.

Your mother and her friends were leaning into Loki, listening with facisnation to what he was saying. Loki was talking quite excitedly with his hands, and you knew what that meant.

He was telling a story about his past.

Loki was always a very still, reserved person. But when he would tell a story about his past, his hands would suddenly be all over the place, and you loved it.

You smiled softly at the sight of Loki being welcomed into the family, and suddenly felt the urge to cry happy tears. But you managed to hold back the tears for now.

You just simply watched, and fawned.

You truly were the luckiest person alive, weren’t you?

If you could, you would just stop time right there and then, and soak up every detail of it. The dim lighting, the delicious aroma of home-cooked meals, laughter, Loki’s voice...

Smiling once more to yourself, you turned back around and busied yourself with the food on your plate. It felt quite relieving to be quiet for a couple minutes, even if you did love your family and friends. You quickly grabbed your glass of wine and bobbed your head softly to the music as you walked away from the large living room, and into an empty hallway absentmindedly.

You simply wandered around as the voices and music’s volume lowered slightly the farther away you got. Taking a sip of wine, you eyed some of the family photographs lined up on the walls.

“Are you alright, darling?” Loki’s voice sounded.

You jumped just slightly, snapping your head to the end of the hallway where your godly boyfriend stood.

You nodded, smiling softly as he made his way towards you, “Yep. Just taking a couple minutes for myself. I get drained from too much talking, you know?”

A gentle hand reached up to the back of your head and gently slid down, grasping onto your hair softly. Loki’s hand continued moving down and settled on your lower back.

“I do know.”

You glanced up at him, making eye contact. He had a very relaxed look in his eyes which only made you lean into him closer. He smelled like honey almost.

“Thank you for coming today. They love you,” Your voice was a whisper.

Loki’s other hand came up and caressed the bottom of your jaw ever so softly.

He whispered back, “You know I would do anything for you.”

And you did know. It’s true. Your heart filled with overwhelming love, you grabbed Loki’s hand that settled on your cheek, and moved it towards your mouth where you gave it a warm kiss. Loki inhaled sharply, yet subtly. Oh, the things he wanted to do to you.

Loki added with a slight smirk, “I have to say, though, I am having quite an enjoyable time.”

“Well, they love to listen to your stories. As do I,” you chuckled.

Loki didn’t say anything else as he pulled you in gently and pressed his lips to yours without a second thought. You nearly dropped the glass of wine in your hand, but managed to steady yourself as you melted into the kiss.

No matter how many times you’d felt Loki’s lips and skin on yours, you never managed to get sick of it. Your heart was still beating a million times a minute, just like the first time he’d kissed you years ago. Your breaths smelled like wine still.

Breaking apart from the kiss, out of breath, you kept your eyes closed and your forehead touching Loki’s as you brushed your fingers through his raven hair. You sighed, and breathed him in completely.

“Y/N! Loki!” Sounded a couple of voices from the living room. The host and guests were probably looking for the two of you to tell some other story about life as an Avenger.

You giggled, breaking away from Loki, but sliding your hand into his.

“I think we should go back,” you said softly. Loki let out a grunt from the depths of his throat.

He smirked as you began pulling him towards the living room.

“Too bad...two more minutes alone and I would’ve pulled you into the empty bathroom with me.”

Your faced heated as you squeezed Loki’s hand in warning, earning a deep chuckle from him.

Soon enough, you and Loki immersed yourselves once again in the party. Slow dancing together, more food, sipping on wine with your parents and their friends...

At one point, late in the night, after one too many glasses of wine, you watched Loki carefully from across the room again. And as if he felt your intense gaze on him, Loki’s eyes suddenly shifted to yours instead of the conversation he was busying himself with.

Lifting your wine glass happily, you held it out to Loki with a genuine smile on your face and a soft look in your eyes. A silent toast, but Loki knew what it meant.

I love you.

[cinnamon-bebe]

Chemtrails (Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader)

Chemtrails (Pedro Pascal X Fem!Reader)

Summary: "If you died today, would you be happy with the life you've lived?" What happens when you've sacrificed your love for fame and fortune? Despite the glitz and glamour, the Reader is all Pedro can think about. The stars have never been on your side but can you rewrite the plans they have for you?

Warning: Angst, Fluff, Occasional Cursing

Inspired by the song Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey

"I'm on the run with you, my sweet love

There's nothing wrong contemplating God

Under the chemtrails over the country club"

"Baby what's your sign?"

"You're in the wind, I'm in the water

Nobody's son, nobody's daughter

Watching the chemtrails over the country club"

Pedro's POV

The chatter of a hundred people and yet I still only hear your voice. Memories of your words, from years past.

You asked me what my sign was, I told you I was an Aries. You laughed and told me we shouldn't be friends, the stars say so. The stars say we're incompatible, we'd be at each other's throats. I'm a fire sign and you didn't need any more drama. I kissed you for the first time and told you I'd prove you wrong, you simply smiled and looked off to the chemtrails that flew over us.  

Memories from years past.

I didn't have much to offer you but I told you that you could take my word. At that time, it was worth more than anything I could have given you.

"You want me to defy the stars?" You raised an eyebrow, a smile teasing your face.

"The stars can go fuck themselves." I told you and kissed you again.

We were so young. We were nobodies. Running through the concrete jungle, with your hand in mine. Sun dress and kisses at midnight convenience stores, splitting a hot dog on a summer day because we needed money for the show at 7.

We used to contemplate the meaning of life over a bottle on our little balcony. I asked you if you were happy and you smiled but did not reply.

"If you died today, would you be happy with the life you've lived?" You asked me instead.

"No." I told you. "There's so much more I want to do. I want to be somebody."

I didn't know it then but that was the moment I started to lose you.

Memories from years past.

I find myself sitting at a restaurant now, with more money to line my pockets, pats on the back from strangers. People know my name and it comes out in whispers, as they stare over their expensive plate, getting cold just to catch a glimpse of me.

A beautiful woman sits across from me. As if a movie star isn't a big enough draw, a woman like her only invites more gazes. She looks like she'd just stepped off a screen herself. She gives me all her attention, so much so that she does not register the envious stares from the others around her.

Her lips are moving, perhaps a funny anecdote came to mind or is she telling me about her sister's wedding again that she mentioned before?  I cannot tell you, for my mind is elsewhere, with someone else.

"So would you like to come?" She smiles brightly at me, her perfect teeth sitting between her lips, painted in a dusty pink.  

"Huh?" I snap out of my daze, embarrassed that I was clearly not paying attention.

"Jule's wedding, did you...want to be my date for the day?" She blushes, hopeful.

"Oh. I...uh. I don't know Kate. I have a pretty packed schedule coming up, I don't know if I'll have time." I try to make up an excuse.

"It's too early isn't?" She bites her lip sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I know we've only been dating for a few weeks, I shouldn't have sprung this up on you so fast."

"No no, please don't be silly. I love weddings!" I try to laugh it off. "It's just that, with the new movie coming up, I need to start preparing before we go into production."

"I understand." She nods with a smile, "Comes with the territory when you're dating a big movie star I guess." She looks at me, I'm not sure if she's anticipating a response but I reciprocate with a grin and wave at the waiter for another drink.

Soon enough, she excuses herself from the table to go to the ladies room and I'm left sitting alone at our spot. I grow tiresome of the incessant chattering from the tables around me and I massage the temples of head, wishing I was at home in the comfort of my bed with just the company of my television.

I see glances from a small table to the side of me, a group of young women clearly too shy to ask for a photograph, egging each other on to make the first move over to me. Their hopes quickly dashed as I feel a firm hand on my shoulder, turning me around.

"Pedro?" A familiar voice calls my name.

"Anthony! Fancy seeing you here!" My eyes widen as I pull an old friend down for a hug.

"It's my anniversary with Charlize, we're just celebrating! God I haven't seen you for so long!" He shakes his head, slowly looking me up and down, examining my so-called transformation. I've aged so much since we last we saw each.

"How long have you been here?" I ask.

"A couple of hours, I actually saw you before but I..uh...I didn't want to interrupt your date."

Date? I swallow the word whole.

"You lucky man. She's very pretty." He comments.

"Yeah, she is."

"You could seem a bit more interested though but those are Charlize's words, not mine." He raises his hands up, letting his wife take the blame.

"I must seem like an ass, don't I?" Poor Kate, how spoilt am I to show a woman like her so little interest. "I haven't dated for so long, it's just hard getting back into the scene that's all."

Anthony let's out an inaudible "oh" and I know he's thinking the same thing, I can practically hear the name sitting on his tongue, desperately wanting to come out. 

"How is Y/N?" I break the ice, allowing the elephant in the room an escape before he suffocates along with me.

"She's good, very good actually. She's a documentary film maker now. Her work is amazing, you'd love it." Anthony couldn't help his excitement when speaking about you and I feel an intense pang of sadness and jealousy seeing his eyes light up. To see you, celebrate you. I wonder if you've aged like me or do you still look the same as how I remember. Do you still crinkle your nose every time you hear a bad joke? Do your eyes still get red and glassy when you look at the sky because you're wondering if anyone's looking down on you? I wish I knew.

"Listen, I have to go." Anthony looks back at his wife who gives me a polite wave from a distance.

"It was really good seeing you Anthony, I'm sorry we haven't spoken all these years. It's just with work..." I recycle that old excuse again.

"Don't worry about it...you made it! I know you worked really hard to get where you are now. I know you had to make a lot of sacrifices..." The last sentence, spoken so softly, it was almost drowned out. "I'm genuinely happy for you."

I nod, giving my friend one last hug before I ready for him to turn and leave, instead he hesitates and looks at me.  

"Hey Pedro?"

"Yeah?"

"She still lives in the neighbourhood." He looks down at the scarf in his hand before patting me on my arm. "Just so you know."

With that, he waves me goodbye. Walking back to his wife, who he wraps his arm around. The way she naturally rests into him and slips her hand into his coat pocket as they exit the restaurant, I wonder if I'd ever have that level of intimacy with Kate.  

__________________________________________________

I sent her home in a taxi. "I have an early morning and need to prep for some meetings", my excuse for her this time. Kate's disappointed expression, as I gave her a kiss on the cheek is the last thing on my mind.

Scuffing the cap of my leather shoes, I kick at the pavement. The world moves past me as I hide myself in the bubble of my thoughts. I have no sense of direction, my legs taking me to no intended destination, only letting the neon lights around guide me to where it desires.

Anthony's words were still ringing in my ears.

Would you want to see me?

My mind reminds me of the last time we were together.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this, if I don't leave the city now, I may never get my chanc-"

"Get your chance to do what? Be a star?" You were sat deep in the corner of the sofa, far from me. Your voice calm and monotonous as you watched me pace up and down our tiny apartment. I couldn't decipher your expression, it was as if you knew what I was going to say.

"I want to make something out of my life! I want to prove to everyone and myself that I can make it Y/N. I don't want to waste my life away." I moved towards you, our presence separated by the little vintage coffee table I hated but still bought home because you loved it so much.

"Well then go, I don't want to hold you back from chasing your dreams."

"Y/N-"

"No. It's okay Pedro. I understand...I really do. I don't want to stop you from pursuing what you love." You got up from your spot, you seemed so small to me as you closed the gap between us. Your hand felt so light against my face, like you were disappearing before me. "Don't live in regret because of me."

"Y/N come wi-" I tried to hold you, hold you before you evaporated.

"No. My place is here." You took your hand away, moved back, the space between us grew more and more distant. "I don't have big dreams like you do. I like normality. I like living my life however I want it, do whatever I want, whenever I want. You asked me if I was happy...and I am."

"Would you still be happy without me?"

I stared at you. My gut sank because I already knew this was the end. You didn't have to tell me.

"I don't know..." You managed to smile, even through the gentle tears that formed in your eyes. "But I know you would be without me."

"That's not true." I tried to reach for you but you pulled away.

"We're very different people Pedro...I told you, we're incompatible. It's time we listened to the stars."

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted as I feel a hand rest softly on the small of my back.

"Hello sir, would you like to buy a rose?" An elderly woman smiles up at me. A child stands obediently nearby, holding a bouquet of individually wrapped stems, clearly past his bedtime but still helping Grandma late at night. The child looks tired, sad. Judging by the number of roses still in his hands, they must have had an unlucky day.

"How much for one?" I return her kind smile, taking out my wallet.

"$2. Thank you, thank you so much sir." The old woman sighs in relief calling the child over to bring the flowers for me to pick. Each stem had a handwritten tag with various cheesy sentiments adorned.

....A kiss in exchange for a rose...

...You're more beautiful than any flower but here's one to show you my love anyway...

....Would you be my Valentine?...

....Please forgive me, I was an idiot.

I chuckle at the last one before picking a rose at random.

I take out $100 and watch the old lady's eyes panic as she reaches in her purse to find change. Taking her hand firmly in mine, I assure her it wasn't necessary.

"I'll take one rose for the $100. You keep the rest of the flowers and have a good night okay?"

The woman looks at the child with her mouth agape and then back at me, clearly taken aback by the gesture.

"Sir, are you sure?"

"Yes, take the kid home and get some rest. This one rose itself is worth every dollar." I pat her hand which trembles in mine.

"Thank you! Thank you! Bless you and the woman who receives your rose!"

Taking the child's hand they quickly walk away, whispering to each other and disappearing into the night.

I stare at the flower in my hand and bring it closer to my face, studying the message on the tag.

...Let's defy the stars and write our own destiny.

I stand in the dark of night, illuminated only by the cafe lights ready to turn off for the day. My hand grips the stem as if it weighed a hundred tons yet afraid it would float away like a feather. The frantic honking of the traffic seems to taunt me, the laughter from the bars nearby seem to be mocking this idiot of a man standing in the middle of the streets, holding a flower he paid $100 for.

"Just do it!" I hear a young boy shout at his friend attempting a skateboard trick up the block.

Just do it. I repeat to myself. Just fucking do it.

"Taxi!"

 _________________________________________________

I remember these steps, we used to sit here with the neighbours' kids. Charlie, I think that was his name? I remember little Charlie proposing to you with a plastic ring and threatening to get his kindergarten buddies on me, simply for existing. I can't help but laugh at that memory.

Everyone was in love with you, the young, the old. They couldn't help but fall for your charms, your kindness, the way you'd smile at them even if you've never spoken a word to each other. Everyone was under your spell, including me.

You told me you loved me on these steps.

I had gotten back from a bad audition and couldn't bear to go home to you. I sat here for hours until you saw me from the balcony and came down. You didn't ask me anything. You just sat with me as we watched the kids run up and down the block, racing each other, teasing each other. I looked at you and you gave me a kiss on the nose.

"I love you."

You said it so quietly at first that I pretended I didn't I understand.

You rolled your eyes and pulled my face into yours, telling me you loved me over and over again as you smothered me with your kisses.

That was one of the happiest moments of my life.

Walking past our faded figures, I enter the building and see that nothing has changed.

The walls were the same duck egg green. The bulletin board covered in layers of flyers and advertisement, some new, with plenty dated months back. I wouldn't be surprised if the audition ads I tried out for from years ago were still there.

The smell of various cuisines mingle together to form its own unique indecipherable aroma.

A comforting aroma.

I look to the elevator, still out of order. Obviously.

We only lived on the third floor, the stairs will be fine.

I prepare myself for the incline when a voice calls out to me.

"Where are you going?"

I turn around and see our old building superintendent, decked out in his uniform. Stanley.

"Stan! It's me Pedro! Wow, you're still here!" I walk to him.

"Who?" He looks me up and down, completely confused as to who the hell I am.

"Pedro from 3B upstairs? I used to live with Y/N...maybe you don't remember me because of the moustache." I rub the bottom of my nose sheepishly.

"No...I don't remember you."

Old Stanley, perhaps age is catching up to him.

"I'm just going to see Y/N." I try to resume my journey but he stops me once more.

"No entry into the building if you're not a resident!" He points to the sign on the wall.

"Since when was that a rule?" I throw my hand in the air.

"Since today. We have too many unsavoury men try to come into the building, how do I know if you really know Miss Y/L/N? I'm not letting any potential predators or burglars into the building."

"But Stan she-"

Pointing to the sign on the wall again, he raises an angry brow. Not wishing a full body beat down by ol' Stan, I take myself back out the building like a bad dog.  

I sit on the steps, sighing in defeat. I try to convince myself that coming here is a mistake.

"Defy the stars...pfft! You've been in way too many movies Pedro." I mumble to myself, as I dig my thumb nail into the stem of the rose.

Perhaps we're only given the choice to rewrite our destiny but it doesn't mean destiny would just sit idly by and let you do whatever you want. It's probably for the best. What would I say anyway?

Running my hand through my hair, I get up to leave. The adrenaline from earlier had drained so quickly out of me, that its left me a fatigued mess. Move on Pedro, it's time to go home.

"Hey movie star." A voice calls from above. "You looking for me?"

Your hair falls past your face as you lean over the balcony and in that moment I feel my heart break into a million pieces.

There you are.

Standing before me, even more beautiful than when you left, if that is even possible.

You're wearing a simple white vest and grey shorts, one leg rubbing softly against the other. Your skin bears the warm orange glow reflected from the lights inside your apartment.

You look so raw, so delicate.

Every pulse in my body aches seeing you again.

"Wow." I breathe. "You look..."

You hide your laugh and I can see you blushing from behind your hand.

"Thanks. You look great too. I'm like the...um..." You rub under your nose with your finger.

"Thank you, I grew it out for a role but now people tell me I look like their grandma without it." I shrug, much to your amusement.

"What are you doing here?" You speak, more softly, more seriously.

How do I even respond to this question? I was out on a date with another woman but I bumped into our old friend who told me I should find you? Or should I go with I met an old woman and her kid, who I'm pretty sure were cupid's little minions, sent down to earth to give me a rose and to fuck with me?

"I was just in the neighbourhood. I wanted to see if you wanted to um...go out for a coffee?" I lie.

You look at me incredulously, clearly seeing through my bullshit.

"Everything is shut by now." You simply respond.

"Oh...well maybe we can just talk then?"

You tap the metal rails, where you lay your arms. Are you contemplating whether to come down or throw a bucket of water over me? I guess I'll have to wait and see.

Without saying a word, you disappear out of sight. The lights in your apartment switches off.

What does this mean? Are you off to bed?

Before I could ruminate any more, the doors open from behind me and you slip through.

God, you look even better up close.

My hands instinctively reach out to touch you but I withdraw quickly before you could see. You had wrapped yourself in a fleecy blanket, the threads a deep purple.

Without saying a word, you sit down on the step and I can only follow suit, my mind can no longer make decisions for itself it seems.

You smell the same, that same soft floral scent I used to love. The one I used to breathe in when I'd hold you close to me in bed because I didn't want you to leave for work.

Our knees are so close, they almost touch.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

For a minute I don't know how to respond, I just don't want to stop looking at you.

"I was...I was wondering if you were thinking about me?"

You laugh, I laugh too. Of course you weren't.

"I think about you all the time." You tell me so casually, it catches me off guard.

"You do?" I whisper in disbelief.

"It's hard not to when you're on every other billboard in the city."

Oh.

"I think about you all the time too Y/N."

You smile and look up at the sky. The night is aligned with many stars tonight and they all call for your attention but mine. I feel greedy staring at you but I'm simply making up for all the nights that I was alone without you, all those kisses I've shared with women that weren't you.

"What do you think the stars are telling us tonight?" I ask.

You grin and without looking back at me, you say "I think the stars are laughing at us."

"Do you think the stars have changed their mind about us?"

You finally turn to me, your eyes drop. "I don't think that's how it works Pedro."

"If this is the life the stars have planned for me, a life without you, then I don't want it Y/N."

"Pedro-"

"I thought if I made a name for myself, if people knew who I was, then I'd be sure of who I am...but who I'm meant to be, who I want to be...is to be with you." Your eyes meet mine, coloured with emotions you are scared to express. "I look for you everywhere I go Y/N, in every women I meet but you are always a world away."

"We don't even know each other anymore Pedro."

"You are the only one who has always known who I am, even before me Y/N. I'm still as strange and as wild as I have always been. I'm still as messy and as clumsy as I was before. I still love cheap corner store liquor and dancing terribly in public. I still look at chemtrails whenever they past me...because they remind me of you."

"Chemtrails are bad for you, they say they're chemicals."  You tell me, your voice low and expressionless.

"If I die with you as my last thought, it won't be so bad."

I finally find the courage to reach for you and you don't recoil from me, you let me gently run my finger against the hair that falls down past your face. You close your eyes and I selfishly take you, pulling you towards me.

I rest my forehead against yours and I savour this moment where I can be close to you and not let it be a memory.

"What if I've changed?" You whisper.

"Well then I'll spend the rest of my life getting to know you again."

"If I told you to run away with me tonight, would you?" You open your eyes to see me, your expression as serious as ever.

"You're my home Y/N. I'll go wherever you go. Even if it's to another galaxy, we'll drive a little red Corvette into space together and leave this all behind."

You smile and tug on the bottom of your lip. "You think the stars would still allow us to go to space?"

"Fuck the stars." I say as I take your lips.

Oh, how I've missed the sweetness of your taste; in this moment you are spoiling me rotten. You wrap your arms around me and allow the blanket to drop from your shoulders. The only stars that mattered now are those in our eyes. They're telling me the future and it's you. It's always been you.

The sirens of the city and the plane overhead may be loud but I hear nothing over the sound of your heart beat.

You pull away and we both laugh.

In this moment, we are perfect. I am no longer the famous celebrity that belonged to everyone. I am not a son and you are no one's daughter.

We only belong to each other.

I see you shiver and look towards the door.

"Let's go inside." You get up and take my hand, guiding me back to our home. The one I've longed for ever since I left.

The building is quiet, everyone asleep by this hour but old Stan at his desk. I try to shuffle past as inconspicuously as I could, my hand entwine with yours.

"Welcome back Mr Pascal." Stanley greets us as clear as day, his head not even looking up from above his phone.

"Wha- so you do remember me!"

Sly old dog.

Stanley doesn't respond and concentrates on his screen instead.

You shake your head and pull me up the steps but not before I set down my lucky rose on the desk.

"Good night Stan."

I call out before I chase my love up the stairs, both of us ready to write our next chapter together. I don't know what it will entail but I know if you're in it, it will be the greatest adventure I'll ever take.

"Kids these days." Stan sighs, closing the article on his phone and clicking on a familiar app. Putting his feet up, he relaxes with a smile on his face as the Mandalorian theme song begins to play.

[teacup-crow]

Maybe, Maybe, Maybe

Fun bit of survivors’ guilt for @badthingshappenbingo, based pretty heavily off Don’t Poke the Bear and Variations on a Theme. Post-finale.

They take it in turns to keep watch for when he wakes up: Doug, Reneé, Isabel, first names still such a novelty. Just his luck, he opens his eyes to the impassive face of Captain Lovelace.

“Hi, dickbag. Sore head?”

“Unnnnhh…” he whines as if he’s lying under a ton of rocks rather than a cosy quilt on Renee’s living room floor. His face is a patchwork of bruising. “Aspirin?”

She takes pity, and passes him two and a glass of water. The sitting up takes longer than he thought it would.

“You look terrible. Lucky for you, Renee makes a mean chilli con carne. Never would have guessed she could cook.”

“No thanks, I should, should be going-”

“You need food in your system, that’s non-negotiable. First thing’s first, though, you’re having a shower, and you either go willingly or get dragged bodily, because you goddamn stink. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbles automatically, and he remembers the Colonel - Warren? Was it on a day he could call him Warren? - once saying something similar and his head pounds. ((“mr jacobi, of all the irresponsible, stupid shit i have seen from you this really takes the-“))

“Bathroom’s on the second floor, just past the master bedroom. Dominick put a pile of clean clothes in there before he left for work. And it’s Isabel, okay? Not sir. Not Captain. Never again.”

***

“Who did this to you?”

He grips his mug of sweet tea like it’s thousand dollar whiskey. He’s still ashen. “I did this to me.”

“You beat the shit out of yourself? Okay, yeah. Don’t buy that one.” Isabel repeats the question. “Who did this to you?”

“Just some guys I pissed off. I don’t know how many. I don’t know who. Happy now?”

The room goes silent. Isabel continues:

“And did you go provoking them deliberately?”

Not for the first time, Renee wonders whether they should have included Doug in this little intervention. He’s been through so much just like the rest of them, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s clearly freaking out at the situation.

“Why would he want something like that to happen? He looks terrible!”

“I don’t know, Doug,” Isabel says levelly. “Care to answer, Jacobi?”

He’s not on a first name basis, apparently.

“Not… I didn’t... no. No, no, no. I was too drunk and… picking fights, but suddenly there were too many of them, okay? But I got out. And if I want to drink then that’s my own problem, so thank you for the hospitality but-“

Renee cuts in there. “When you drink yourself into a stupor, get attacked by a gang in a back alley, and stumble into my doorway at 0300 hours after six months of radio silence, it becomes our problem.” Her look of pity makes his stomach churn even more than the chilli did. He breathes in, hold, out; in, hold, out; in-((alana’s breathing technique and why why why is she everywhere in everything why does he have to see her out of the corner of his eye when it’s been so long he can’t properly remember her face-))

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“You are a good man and you saved every single one of our lives and we need to understand why you’re so intent on throwing yours away.”

Jacobi starts laughing then, guttural laughs that worsen the ache in his head and bones but he can’t seem to stop them. “...me? I’m a good man? Oh my God, Lieutenant, that’s hilarious. Give us another.”

“You need to take this seriously! This is a form of self harm! You could have died!” Isabel is pacing up and down. She and Renee do good cop, bad cop like it’s a professional sport.

“Boo fucking hoo. And the world would forever be worse off for my passing.”

Isabel stops, and turns back towards him with some heat in her gaze. “I have lost too many crew members who deserved to die far less than you do. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you need me to reconfirm that you are a an asshole? Do you need to hear about how Fisher, and Hui, and Fourier, and Lambert were all far better people than you will ever, ever be? Or will you accept that you are good in there? That deep down you’re on the right-“

“We burned their letters.” He’s staring at the duvet he’s wrapped in, running his finger over the flowers on the pattern. “Okay? Still think I’m a good person?”

“...wait. What?” She laughs a little, in shock perhaps. “But you told me…”

“I told you what I needed to tell you to make you trust me. We burned your crew’s letters. Lambert’s… I remember those especially. His hands were shaking really hard when he wrote them, weren’t they.”

It’s not a question.

Isabel stops pacing, and Jacobi grins again but it doesn’t reach his bruised eyes when he looks up at her. “More than mine, even. You could tell he was sick. They didn’t make any sense. We laughed at them. The irony of a Communications Officer who can’t communicate. Are you listening to me? We read their letters and we burned them and we laughed about it-“

Renee loses her softness. “Jacobi, that is enough!”

Isabel has a hand on her chest as if something has hit her there. She counts to ten in her head, ((fisher’s technique to try and stop her fighting with sam, never worked but still stuck in her head, or this copy of her head, or whoever she is now-)) and leaves the room.

They hear her slamming drawers in the kitchen.

Doug glances at Jacobi and shakes his head, before hurrying after her.

“How could you,” Reneé says. “How could you.”

“I don’t know. Will you let me go and ruin my own life now?”

“Never,” she replies. “Because, God help me, you’re still a member of my crew.”

At that, his eyes prick with tears he can’t explain. He rolls over on the air bed, and closes them.

***

“Lovelace?” Jacobi finally makes himself walk into the kitchen, grimacing like each step is on hot sand. The words are monotone. “I’m so sorry. What I did and said is... inexcusable.”

“Nope. That’s too large a word for your vocabulary. Come back to me with an apology Renée didn’t script,” Isabel snaps, going back to scribbling in a sketchbook.

“Look, I’m not much good at this-“

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m… really used to people yelling at me and hitting me until they feel better. Or you can shoot me if you like!”

“Jesus. Well, I am not about to do that to ease your guilt. You look like you’d snap if one more person poked you. So apologise properly.”

“I’m sorry…”

“For?” Isabel prompts over the top of her book.

“I’m sorry for burning your crew’s letters.”

“You did what you were ordered to do. It is what it is. I’m not condoning it.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jacobi realises she’s waiting for him to continue. “And… I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was… needlessly cruel. It sucked.”

“It really did,” she replies, putting the book down. “Tell you what: that sounded somewhat genuine, and Goddard brought out the shit in all of us. You look so pathetic, I’m going to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I don’t bear grudges. Not anymore.”

She holds out a hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you.”

“Wow. That actually hurt for you to say.”

Jacobi nods. He sits down across from her at Renée’s huge darkwood table, and thinks about how she and Dominick must have bought this when they moved in together with plans to have people over for dinner every other night. Maybe even plans to have kids.

He wonders if Dominick ate at it alone while his wife was gone.

“So, you gone on that holiday yet?”

“No, actually. I’ve legally been dead for about seven years, so getting a passport is proving pretty tricky.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where have you been, anyway? We tried to get into contact with you. We drove down to your old apartment - got your address from the Goddard database - but it was cleaned out.”

Jacobi looks sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’d mostly been staying at Alana’s for the last few years or overnight at… yeah… so I’d not been a very good tenant and turns out they took ‘lost in space’ as the perfect opportunity to kick me out. So I’ve been sofa to sofa, on the streets a bit-”

“For heaven’s sake, Jacobi. We would have helped you, you stupid asshole! All you had to do was ask and you could have stayed here! Renee and Dominick would probably even let you have a cheese collection or whatever the fuck it was.”

“Guess the amount of drinks it takes for me to lose my pride is somewhere over eighteen?”

“How do you have a functioning liver?”

They sit in an almost comfortable silence for a few minutes, Isabel reopening her sketchbook.

“I never knew you drew.”

“You never knew me outside of a life-threatening situation.” Isabel sighs, twists the pencil between her fingers. “I don’t think I did. Before. The old ‘me’, I mean. But I was bored and I can’t get a job because of the ‘being dead’ issue, so I thought I should take up a hobby or something. Might be therapeutic. I’m not very good at it…”

“Can I see?”

“I, uh,” Isabel suddenly looks uncertain. “I drew her. Maxwell. I drew everyone, actually. Are you sure you want to look?”

“Yes.”

He leafs through the pages, at first simple doodles before branching into full portraits. Eiffel, upside down and smoking a cigarette. Hilbert, looking troubled at a shadow behind him he can’t quite see. Two ghostlike figures in lab coats staring out at the star, the man with a prophetic terror etched on his face - must be Isabel’s old crewmates. Mr Cutter smiles up at him with far too many sharp teeth in sharper lines where the pencil was pressed far too hard and he turns the page quickly. There’s Kepler, mid-whiskey speech and it almost stops his heart. He pauses. Maxwell.

In the picture, her eyes are shining as she stares at Hera’s console, fingers nothing more than a blur - the three-day stint she spent trying to get the AI online. Aside from the orange and blue of Wolf 359, elsewhere in the book Isabel has barely used colour, but here the room is bathed in a serene green light from the screens. Behind Maxwell, Jacobi sees himself, little more than a stocky, sketchy outline, waiting for her to finish.

He looks so proud of her.

He looks so… content.

After staring for a long moment, Jacobi closes the book and hands it back. “Thank you.”

“You can keep the pictures of them, if you like,” Isabel offers, but he doesn’t know whether he would like, so he says:

“Tell me about your crew.”

“What?”

“Your old crew. Tell me about them. Was Lambert the one staring at...?”

“No. No. No, that was Kuan Hui, our senior astrophysicist. He was whipsmart and funny and fearless, until the time Goddard Futuristics played around in his brain, stretched out his perception of time. He was completely alone in the dark for two weeks. His smile never really reached his eyes after that.”

Jacobi sips tea awkwardly, even though it’s cold.

“Something like that, it stays with you. At least he had Fourier, though.”

“That’s the woman behind him?”

“Junior physicist. Victoire Fourier had eyes like stars. Cleverest person I’ve ever met. She played six instruments, spoke four languages and she had the most gentle soul. She used to read to Hui when he got sick with Decima. Coughed up every organ in his body. I thought it would break her, but she was made of stern stuff. She vanished off the space station in the final days and I still don’t know what exactly happened to her-”

“I… do. If you want to know, I mean.”

Isabel shakes her head. Then pauses. Then shakes her head again. “I get the feeling whoever is to blame is long gone.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Who else?”

“Well, there was Mace Fisher. Fisher… Fisher died because of me, not Goddard Futuristics. Asteroid shower tore him from my hands. He had a boyfriend waiting at home. He was sensitive, sensible, grounding. A real older brother type. I- I didn’t deal particularly well with his death. Well, you know that much.”

((Pill popper!)) Jacobi gulps more cold tea.

“And Lambert?”

“Sam Lambert. Officer Samuel Lambert had a stick up his ass. He was whiny, and authoritarian, and he treasured his copy of Pryce and Carter more than Reneé and Kepler combined did. He drove me nearly insane, and I drove him likewise. The best second in command you could ask for. A damn good man. Sam got sick after Hui, so we knew what was coming. What it meant. He was brave, though. At first.”

((“C-Captain, please shoot me, please, it hurts, it hurts, Captain, please, I just want it to-”)

She falters.

“Lovelace?”

“Yup?”

“You know, it’s not even really about the Hephaestus. I keep… it’s insane, but I keep thinking about… I was an explosives guy for the Air Force. Before Goddard. A trigger failed and two men died. Andrews and Sullivan. I haven’t thought about them in years and suddenly-“

“They’re everywhere?”

There’s a sudden understanding between them.

“They’re everywhere. Them and Maxwell and Kepler. They’re in mirrors, in the back of my brain, around corners.”

“Flashes of them.”

“And if you just reach out far enough, maybe-“

“Maybe-“

“Maybe.”

((let’s go be monsters)), Jacobi’s brain echoes. He grits his teeth.

“Did it stop for you? When does it stop?” He finds himself asking. Isabel doesn’t answer.

[truegenius]

Because of You

moreid blurb for @spencers-renaissance <3

Summary: Spencer breaks up with his long time boyfriend. Derek comforts him.

Pairing: Moreid

Rating: G

tw: none

"Can I stay here tonight?" Spencer asked as Derek stood at 3:24 am, holding his front door open with a confused look on his face.

This in itself would not be out of the ordinary. Spencer often showed up at his house at odd hours of the night, sometimes to discuss potential breaks in a case, or to show Morgan a documentary he discovered that he thought Derek would like, and many times to raid the older agent's fridge as he steadfastly refused to buy food of his own. Derek never said anything; he never minded caring for the genius. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he secretly enjoyed being the one to make Spencer’s face light up and could feel an anger rise in him what it was caused by anyone else.

What drew Derek's attention was the state the young genius was in. Spencer was clad in only the dress shirt, khakis, and converse he had worn to work that day, and soaked down to the bone due to the thunderstorm raging outside. He had no bag or coat or umbrella and Derek was sure that his phone must have incurred some form of water damage. Spencer's hair was strewn about from the howling wind, but from what Derek could see through the strands of hair covering Spencer's face, his eyes were red and his cheeks were puffy.

"Reid," Derek said, desperately wanting to put his fist in the face of whoever caused it but deciding instead to pull the genius into a bone crushing hug, “What happened? Did you walk here?”

Derek didn't gave Spencer time to answer as he pulled away and nudged him into his apartment. He closed the door softly behind him as he watched Spencer carefully. The doctor was in the middle of his living room, creating a puddle on the hardwood floor where he stood, with his shoulders hunched and hair still falling in his face, looking like a lost puppy. This boy was going to be the death of him.

"Are you alright?" Derek said, walking over to him slowly and tucking the hair covering his face behind his ears.

“I will be,” Spencer whispered and gave Derek a small smile. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Uh, can I have a towel?"

"Oh! yeah," Derek said, taking a step back, "C'mon pretty boy, let's get you cleaned up."

Spencer followed Derek down the hallway, slipping into the bathroom as Derek continued down the hall to find some dry clothes for the both of them. Derek quickly changed out of his damp shirt and went to rummage through his closet to find clothes that might fit the smaller man. He ended up with a t-shirt about two sizes too small on him, a pair of sweatpants that he found in the bottom of his drawer, and a pair of fluffy pink socks, a birthday gift that his sister had gotten him as a joke.

"Hey Spence," Derek knocked on the closed door to his bathroom, "I've got some dry clothes for you out here if..."

He trailed off as Spencer opened the door wearing only his boxer briefs and signature mismatched socks. Derek had to actively avoid dragging his eyes up and down his lithe frame and slightly toned stomach as Spencer took the clothes from his hands and promptly shut the door in his face. Derek stood there for a minute, slightly stunned by Spencer's quick change in demeanor. He shook it off and wandered into the kitchen to make something that might calm Spencer down.

Spencer padded into the room just as Derek finished pouring hot chocolate into two mugs. Derek smiled slightly seeing the genius in his clothes which were still incredibly baggy on the kid. He slowly sat in one of the stools at the island as Derek slid a mug across the counter. The room was quiet as they drank in silence with Spencer occasionally looking over at the man leaning on the counter across from him, looking backdown into his mug every time Derek made eye contact.

Derek finished his coco first, rinsing his cup and leaving it in the sink before taking the seat next to Spencer on the other side of the island.

"Pretty boy, please," Derek said, "Talk to me."

“Aaron broke up with me." Spencer whispered after a long moment, his hands fiddling with the handle of his mug.

"You were dating someone? Wait—" Derek paused to process what was just said. "You... were dating... Hotch?" He asked, feeling the jealousy radiate through him as he tried his hardest not to put any judgement in his voice.

"What?" Spencer asked, furrowing his eyebrows, "No. Aaron Faller."

Derek stayed quiet, urging him to go on.

"I met him in college. We, uh, we started dating about three years ago... before I got into the bureau. After we graduated, he decided to follow me here. I thought-" he paused to collect his thoughts, "I thought we were gonna be together forever."

Spencer's voice cracked at the end and Derek could tell that the kid was near tears. The doctor refused to make eye contact, choosing instead to stare furiously into his hot chocolate. Derek could see as Spencer processed the emotions going through his head, going from sad to confused to angry before settling back on sad again and he had to fight the urge to pull the smaller man into another hug.

“I wanted him to love me as much as I loved him... I thought he didn’t,” Spencer whispered, “I told him that, too”

Spencer got up suddenly, startling Derek with his sudden movement as he went to put his mug in the sink.

“And you know what’s funny?” He said with a laugh as he turned the faucet on with so much force that Derek thought it might snap off, “He said that I was wrong. He said I had it backwards, that he loved me more than I did him, and do you know what the worst part is? I think he was right.”

“Spence,” Derek said, trying to get his attention as Spencer was still aggressively washing the mug. He turned off the water with just as much force and dropped the mug in the sink with a loud thud.

Derek knew that he had to choose his words carefully as Spencer looked like the next words he said might break him entirely, “Take a breath. Take your time.”

Spencer looked down as he fiddled with his hands and mumbled, “He said... he said it’s because of you”

He still refused to make eye contact and there was a long moment of silence before he continued, “He said that ever since I got in to the BAU, ever since I met you, all I would talk about is you and that every time we had a conversation, no matter where it started, it always ended up leading to you. Things on the street or stores that we would pass would always somehow remind me of you.‘Oh that restaurant? Derek mentioned that place has good Mexican food’ or ‘oh that park? Derek plays basketball there on the weekends’ and I hate myself for it. I hate myself for not noticing it and I hate that I was too wrapped up in you to realize that I was hurting someone that I truly care about and I hate that I don’t care that Aaron broke up with me because he is a genuinely good person who absolutely does not deserve any of the crap that I’ve unwittingly put him through. But what I hate most is that I don’t care enough to end things with him properly. God, I didn’t cry, I didn’t ask him to stay. When he confronted me, all I said was ‘I’m sorry’ and left. What kind of asshole would—”

Spencer halted his ranting when he heard the man across from him let out what sounded like a giggle. Their eyes finally met and Derek couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face. However it was quickly replaced with shock and it almost gave Derek whiplash with how instantly Spencer went from shy to seething.

“I fucking knew it. I knew you’d be like this,” Spencer hissed, moving around the island to point a skinny finger in Derek’s face, “You with your gigantic ego. You love this don’t you, ruining my life. Derek Morgan finally gets poor little Spencer Reid under his thumb. You just think—”

“Spence!” Derek was laughing again because no matter how hard he tried, the over dramatic doctor was about as terrifying as a baby kitten. He caught Spencer’s hands in his own as the genius feebly tried to hit him in the chest, “Spence, I’m smiling cause—”

“Cause you—” Spencer started as he tried to wrestle his hand out of the stronger man’s grip.

“Because I love you too, Spence” Derek interrupted.

“You—” Spencer stopped struggling, “You what?”

“I love you pretty boy. I have for a long time.” Derek smiled as he watched Spencer process his words.

“But I didn’t...” Spencer trailed off.

“You don’t have to. I know.” Derek smiled softly, “Call me selfish. Call me whatever you like but I’m glad that Aaron broke up with you cause now I can have you all to myself. And I’d really like to kiss you now if you’ll let me.”

Spencer didn’t bother to answer as he crashed his lips onto Derek’s.

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