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reidecorating · 4 years

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Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift.

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :)

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding.

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do.

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it.

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request.

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door.

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well.

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake.

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :)

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-”

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far.

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?” You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way.

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist.

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?”

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him.

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,”

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders.

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,”

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing, trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud.

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come.

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piteouspeculiarity · 4 years

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Defining Home: Extended Author's Note

Warning: This might contain spoilers for the series

(For clarity, when I say 'Tommy' etc in this post, I'm talking about the characters from my fics, not the content creators themselves.)

So it's done, huh? This note will include the sappy shit, the fun facts, then some of the more serious stuff, because I just didn't want to add an essay to the end of that chapter.

First of all, thank you all for the support along the way. Defining Home is easily my most popular series of fics I’ve ever written and I’ve been writing fanfic for years now. The comments and the kudos and the bookmarks were so very validating when I was new to the fandom, and still are. Hell, people have gifted me fics and written related fics to Defining Home, which blows my tiny mind. I haven’t gotten the chance to read a lot of them yet (procrastination I know thy name), but when I do, I’ll be leaving my best comments in thanks <3

I'll be honest, when I posted the first chapter of Enough, I never expected it to turn into what it did.

That first chapter was written in my phone notes at 3am, hours before an exam. I hadn't interacted with the fandom at all at that point, didn't even have a Tumblr for it, but boy oh boy did I get a warm welcome.

The point is, that first chapter was a very spur in the moment thing, mainly consisting of one scene I couldn't get out of my head (Tommy on a train to Wilbur's). I've gotten a few people telling me since then that they wished that they could write as well as I can, which is a huge compliment, but every person can write a fic like Enough. There are things that we all struggle with when it comes to writing: dialogue, prose, starting scenes - I have my own things I struggle with, things you might have noticed, things you might have not. You don't have to be a perfect writer to tell a story, especially in fandoms, where betas are easy to come across.

Write your story, even if its just for yourself. Posting that chapter gave me the chance to make new friends and I'll never stop being grateful for that.

One of those friends is Kat, who I've mentioned a couple times in the author's notes, but who honestly, I owe a lot to. Kat has encouraged me and been one of the main motivators to write this fic when I felt like it would never be finished, or that I'd never live up to other people's expectations. Sometimes, that meant motivating in some weird ass ways, but hey, it worked.

People who know me in discord servers might know that I'm a simp for Kat and it's damn true. Kat, I love you, you've improved my life more than you know in the last couple months and you deserve so, so much happiness.

In fear of love reciprocation from Kat, we'll move swiftly on to the more fun side of things.

Anyone feel like fun facts? You might already know some of these because I tend to overshare in author's notes, but I'm pretty sure some of them are new to all of you.

Barney the dog? Named after my own late labrador, who I love very much and loved to jump in lakes and need rescuing, time and time again.

I had no plans in moving Tommy in with Techno, hell, I had no plans in Techno moving to England at all. It was as much of a surprise to me as it was to everyone else when he told Tommy the news, but I latched onto the idea and ran with it. I think it worked out okay, in the end.

Techno has a draw in his bedroom full of parenting books, most of which were stolen from Phil.

After Tommy asked for help about what to do with Dream, Wilbur sent Dream a dm telling him he better not fuck anything up and if he did, Wilbur would not hesitate to humiliate him in front of millions of people. It was unnecessary, of course, but Dream was definitely a bit more cautious about what he said when he listened to Tommy’s explanation.

Some of my favourite things about writing Defining Home:

The Tesco v Asda discourse. Look, some of you just need to accept that Asda is the superior shop and get off your Tesco stanning bullshit. /j

The offers I would get for new chapters, some honourable mentions being newborns, siblings, diamonds and kidneys.

Now, I know that as much as I tried to, I won't have managed to include everything that everyone wanted from Defining Home, whether that's certain confrontations or scenes, I am sorry if I haven't included.

I don't imagine myself writing any more in the series, not because I think there isn't more I could write about, but because as a whole it feels complete to me, and any added oneshots I write would disturb that.

Right now Defining Home feels well rounded in a way that I'm proud of. The minute I realised that Enough was going to turn into a series I planned out how I wanted it to work. Maybe its just the maths part of my brain, but I like how there's three fics, with three chapters in each and how Tommy heals as you progress throughout the series.

My aim for the series was for the tone to get lighter as you went through, because yes, things kept happening (confrontation with dad, beach incident etc) but the point was that Tommy dealt with those things in different ways that he would have earlier on in the series. I have lots of thoughts and lots of emotions about how he felt safe enough with his family to experience nightmares and such. I made an effort in The Truth Behind Family to include more fluff, especially in the last two chapters, because I think it’s important to show that yeah, his parents’ abuse effected him, but it didn’t dictate how he lived his life.

Like yes, I could write about their first Christmas together, for example, and add it onto the series, but I don’t think that I’d be able to do the rest of the series justice in that. Defining Home is largely about what the title implies, Tommy discovering what words like ‘home’ and ‘family’ mean beyond what he’s been told he’s stuck with and I believe that by the end of the series, he’s been successful in that.

I'm so proud of the characters I wrote, Tommy in particular, for how far they've come in Defining Home, but I think that in a way, it’s time for me to let them go.

That’s not to say I’m done with writing for sbi! Hell no!

I have a couple long fics in the works and a one shot I’m working on. The main fic I’m excited to focus on now Defining Home is finished is heavy heart, heavy head, heavy hero which, to put it simply, is an sbi royalty au, where unfortunate circumstances mean Tommy is forced to become King. It’s going to be a little more plot focused than Defining Home was and I am so very pumped to give it my full attention instead of leaving that lonely one chapter on AO3 like I have been doing.

I was 🤏close to making a Discord server, but ultimately decided I’m much more suited to causing chaos on other people’s servers than running my own. I think at this point the karma would be too great to even consider making my own server, so if you’d like to talk to me on Discord, keep an eye for me on other people’s servers - I mainly lurk, but I’m pretty active on one or two :D

On a more serious note, Defining Home deals with some heavy topics and I’ve had comments tell me that they relate to Tommy’s situation and wish that they had their own found family to run to.

This Tumblr post has a list of phone numbers and places you can contact if you need help or want someone to talk to. Saying that, I recognise that a list as long as that can be daunting, so feel free to shoot me a message and I can either help you find the right one for you, or keep you company for a bit if you need it.

Not all of us are lucky enough to have our own found family, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t forever, or that you’re alone. My dms and ask box are always open if you want someone to talk to.

Keep yourselves safe <3

- Lee

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dreamsclock · 3 years

Note

Can we get dreamsclock/blog lore Sparrow 👉👈

anon idk if you meant like. Actual lore about me but have some anyway, if that’s what you’re asking !!!

i can’t tell the time

one time i fell asleep on stage when i was a kid

i hyperfixated on french last year and markiplier congratulated me for it

I Had Adenoids As A Kid

i’m currently working on eight different Big Things and procrastinating on all of them

I AM SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING AN ESSAY FOR MY EXAM RIGHT NOW AND AM NOT LOLOL

i’ve broken all the fingers on my left hand and three on my right

i don’t like pizza

or, if you wanted facts about like ,,, idk my dsmp blog persona ??? if that’s a thing ??? unless i’m just being an idiot ??? IDK lmao i don’t really have a persona but i do like creating characters out of my head and improvising with them so here are a couple of facts about. Him

two canon lives. doesn’t like to talk about how he lost his first one because he says it brings back awful awful memories. (he sleptwalked off the side of a cliff and died of fall damage and he doesn’t have any memory of it but it’s the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to him L L L L)

has purple bird wings bc fuck yeah !!! very bad at flying though

can take a full bird form bc why not and bc he’s Cool. not rlly though bc he’s tiny and unthreatening but it does mean he can eavesdrop very effectively

would probably be close to c!tommy + c!tubbo + c!ranboo But Also. wants to break c!dream out of prison For Drama.

thinks c!wilbur is awesome. does he know c!wilbur is Not Great? absolutely he does and he loves it. he thinks c!wilbur is so cool LMAO.

heterophobe + cisphobe. /j

#> my asks !!#> my irl stuff !!#ty for the ask :DDD

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lowkeyjustvibing · 4 years

Text

Guess who decided to write more fanfic?

So I took those angsty IBVS headcanons, procrastinated for forever, and have finally figured out how I shall write this.

Also I decided to get some hurt/comfort up in here ‘cuz our favorite school king doesn’t deserve pure distilled pain without getting hugs.

IBVS by onebizarrekai

It was odd to say the least. Edward was known to be arrogant and boisterous, enough so that he drew the attention of anyone and everyone. So it was certainly confusing when the normally loud and proud school king slowly became much more quiet and secluded. No one knew what had caused it but after just a week Edward was an entirely different person. He was jumpy and hardly interacted with anyone outside of his inner circle. Easy to say, this caught the attention of many of the students.

“Hey, you know what’s up with Ed?” Chris asked, “I mean, he hasn’t shown up to any of the meetings and I rarely see him outside of class.”

“I dunno’,” Isaac said, not looking up from his sketchbook, “but yeah, it is a little weird that Mr. High and mighty is all secluded now.”

“I’m just worried.” Chris mumbled and Isaac gave him an odd look, “Hey! Don’t you dare. I just don’t want him to be hurt or something and we haven’t done anything to help him. I know you two don’t have the best relationship but you have to at least be a little concerned.”

After a moment of silence, Isaac sighed and set aside his sketchbook, “Alright, you caught me. Yes I’m a little curious about what’s up with the big guy, but what do you want to do about it? You can’t expect to just ask him what’s wrong and get him to pour out his heart or something. It was already difficult to get him to talk about like, anything aside from supernatural stuff before so I can’t imagine how sheltered about personal stuff he’d be now.”

“Well I’m getting the truth out of him one way or another.” Chris responded, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

“You should try asking Barry if he knows anything, he and Quinton are pretty close.”

Chris just nodded before waving goodbye and leaving to go find Barry.

-------

“I don’t know what’s wrong either.” Barry said sadly, “He doesn’t even come over anymore.”

Chris groaned in frustration, falling onto his back and frightening a nearby cat, “Great, so NO ONE knows.”

They both just sat there for a minute, neither of them wanting to break the silence.

“It’s just so frustrating!” Chris groaned, digging his palms into his eye sockets, “I mean, it’s not like the answer is just going to just waltz through the door!”

Suddenly, there was a loud bang coming from the kitchen and they both jumped. They glanced at each other and then tensed upon hearing the back door fly open and shut.

“Hello?” Barry called.

There was no response and Chris stood up, a fuzzy outline of a blade hovering next to his hand. Barry followed him as they slowly walked into the kitchen to see what was happening.

“Hey!” Chris called, “Who’s there?”

There was a quiet sniffle and then a weak voice responded, “S-sorry for j-just walking in...”

Barry blinked a few times before stepping forward, “Ed?”

Sure enough, the once proud school king was hidden in the corner hugging his knees to his chest. He was shaking and breathing unevenly and looked like a mess.

“Holy cow Ed,” Barry muttered, walking over quickly, “what happened?”

When he tried to reach out to comfort his obviously distressed friend, Edward flinched back, “D-don’t t-touch me p-please...”

Chris stepped forward, “Are you OK?”

Edward shook his head, barely stifling a sob.

“Is there anything we can do?” Barry asked.

“W-water.” Edward croaked, wiping his face with his sleeve.

It was then that Chris noticed that the other was wearing thick gloves and extra layers.

“Are you cold?” He asked, “I can get you a blanket.”

Edward shook his head slightly and Barry returned with a glass of water.

“Here.” He said, carefully handing it to Edward without touching him.

After confirming that he wasn’t hurt or anything, Chris and Barry walked back to the living room to give him some space.

“Did you see how much stuff he was wearing?” Chris asked, “He looks like he’s planning to go to Antarctica or something.”

Barry thought for a moment, “He said he didn’t want to be touched, maybe that’s part of it?”

Chris nodded, “But it’s weird, he was never this paranoid about being touched. Heck, he used to drag Isaac into closets. What changed?”

“That’s something he’s going to have to tell us.”

-------

After Edward finally calmed down enough to talk, Chris and Barry began rapid firing questions at him.

“Are you OK?”

“What happened?”

“Why were you so freaked out?”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“H-hey!” Edward stuttered, “I appreciate the concern but just... One at a time or something.”

Barry was the first to speak, “What happened?”

This seemed to catch the other off guard, “Well, umm... I just- Umm...”

“Here,” Chris interrupted, “let’s break it down a little, did someone do this to you?”

After a bit of hesitation, Edward nodded.

“Who?” The other two asked simultaneously.

“N-” Edward flinched, “E-emo kid...”

“Nevin?!” Chris asked incredulously and Edward flinched again.

Barry only grew more concerned, “What did he do?”

“H-he’d catch me a-after school and beat m-me up...” Edward mumbled, seeming to shrink into himself, “I-it sorta’ became an e-everyday thing. I’d get out of class and h-he’d drag me off somewhere and...”

“Holy...” Chris muttered, “Edward I- Oh my gosh... I’m so sorry man.”

At this, Edward broke and started crying. It took every ounce of self control in both of them not to rush forward and comfort their friend.

Barry rested a hand on Chris’s shoulder, “I’ll take care of him, could you go talk to Nevin?”

Chris nodded, his worry instantly forgotten as he was filled with anger and determination, “Of course. Take care of him while I’m gone.”

And with that, he was off again, this time with a burning sense of purpose.

--------

Chris knocked on the door to the Jovel’s house (To be fair, pounding would be a better word). After a few moments, none other than Nevin opened the door. He looked bored and vaguely annoyed, like Chris had just inconvenienced him.

“‘Sup Chris?” He asked nonchalantly.

At the completely unfazed tone, Chris couldn’t help the slight flicker of a knife appearing at his side.

“Well,” He said through gritted teeth, “I was wondering if I could talk to you about something.”

Nevin gave him a suspicious look, probably noticing his tone, before moving aside, “Then come on in.”

“I’d rather not.” Chris muttered.

“Oh?” Nevin responded, “But I insist.”

Chris finally snapped. He grabbed Nevin and after yanking him out onto the porch, pinned him against the outside wall. Before the other could even speak, there was a bright red blade inches from his throat.

After recovering, Nevin finally spoke, “Oh, this was unexpected.”

“How DARE you.” Chris hissed, the knife edging just a hair closer.

Nevin gave him a confused look, “How dare I what?”

“You know what!” Chris spat, “Here, I’ll help you out. Two words, Edward. Quinton.”

Nevin looked at him for a moment before he burst out laughing. It took all of Chris’s willpower not to give Nevin a taste of his own medicine and beat him up.

“Oh I forgot about that!” He wheezed, “That was fun! Can’t believe you’re actually worried about that guy.”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him?”

“Oh please, inform me.” Nevin drawled, once again looking bored and inconvenienced.

Chris felt his eye twitch and he dropped Nevin, “OK, how about I give you a demonstration then?”

As the other stood up, Chris noticed that his eye had turned to the unnatural cyan color indicating that his powers were activated. Then, to his surprise, a thick black liquid seemed to materialize on his shorter opponent.

“You want a fight?” Nevin said, grinning wildly, “You got one.”

-------

Meanwhile, Edward was sitting with Barry on his couch watching a movie. It took a while, but Barry eventually managed to convince his friend that he wasn’t going to be hurt. Not long after that, Edward was practically on top of him, furiously denying that the action meant anything. About halfway through the movie, the front door slammed open and Edward screeched before falling off the couch.

“Chris?” Barry called and received an affirmative grunt in response.

After hearing him struggle for a bit and mutter something about octopi, Chris finally walked into the living room.

Barry jumped up at the sight of him, “Holy-! I’ll go get my kit, stay right there!”

Chris groaned before flopping face first onto the couch. He was covered in cuts, bruises, and odd patches of black slime.

Edward looked worried, “Are you OK?”

“Peachy.” Chris responded, turning to look at him, “How ‘bout you?”

“Better than you I suppose.”

Barry got back with some medical supplies and started fussing over Chris. While he was getting cleaned up, Chris explained how he got into a fight with Nevin and “Taught that crazy goop lord a lesson”. Barry didn’t even question that statement, just telling Chris to go take a shower before he made even more of a mess.

“Want to finish the movie?” Edward asked after hearing the upstairs bathroom door close.

“Sure.” Barry responded, “Just let me clean off the couch first.”

-------

By the time Chris finally finished showering, realized he didn’t have spare clothes, and was supplied some sweats and a T-Shirt by Barry, it was already dark.

Chris swore quietly, “My dad’s gonna’ kill me when I get back. I should probably go before he gets even more mad.”

“Oh heck with your dad!” Edward shouted from the kitchen, “He’s gonna’ be pissed whether you go back now or a week from now! How ‘bout we all just hang out here for the night?”

Barry shrugged, “Sounds good to me.”

Chris was dumbfounded, “B-but I need to-”

“Ah shut up ya’ nerd.” Edward said, sauntering out of the kitchen, “You already had quite the day so there’s no point in going home just to get chewed out by your dad.”

“Besides,” Barry interjected, “I don’t think he’d miss that you’re wearing someone else’s clothes.” Chris flushed slightly at that statement, “I’ll toss your clothes in the washer and you can go back tomorrow looking like nothing happened.”

“OK...” Chris mumbled, still embarrassed.

After Barry left to put Chris’s clothes in the laundry, Edward jumped onto the couch, bouncing once and then burying his face in a pillow. Chris just grabbed the blanket and sat down on the other side of the couch, wrapping himself in it. Then, to his surprise, Edward grabbed a corner of the blanket and yanked on it, pulling Chris (Who had a death grip on said blanket) onto him.

“‘M cold.” Edward muttered, yanking on the blanket a few more times.

Chris was conflicted and incredibly flustered. On one hand, he wanted that blanket and on the other, he wanted to apologize for nearly falling on top of his new friend. Edward didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he seemed quite content. It took a few moments of mental struggle for Chris to decide that being warm under the blanket was worth more than apologizing profusely. Barry finally got back, stifling a laugh at the sight of an unconscious Edward practically cuddling a very flustered Chris.

“Help!” Chris whispered.

Barry just grinned and sat next to them, “Sorry buddy, I’ve learned from experience that there’s no escaping Ed when he’s in a cuddly mood.”

With that, Barry grabbed a corner of the blanket and pulled some onto his legs before leaning up against the arm of the couch. Chris sputtered a bit before succumbing to his fate and deciding to just get some sleep, almost instantly passing out.

---------

Anyways, I’m too lazy to write it out but Chris totally wakes up to Edward and Barry acting like an old married couple and giving each other kisses while they’re cooking. But yeah, I decided to write some good ol’ Edward angst and accidentally turned it into a poly ship, so sue me.

#general's fics #IBVS #Edward Quinton #Barry Price #Chris Jackson #This is probably so ooc #hhhhhhhh

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juststrugglingwithstress · 4 years

Text

How to Write Believable ADHD

INTRO

so obvi rick riordan is the master, he did ADHD correctly, but i see a lot of people writing ADHD in the way that portreys it as “SQUIRREL SQUIRREL WAS THAT A SQUIRREL???? MUST MOVE MUST MOVE MUST MOVE FHDAFHEIAIEA”

this is both HORRIBLY wrong and offensive.

ADHD is not what you think it is. ADD is not the same as ADHD. there’s a lot of parts of ADHD/ADD that nobody ever talks about. in this post i’m going to talk about ADHD using:

things i know about ADHD/ADD

my experience as an adolescent with ADD

my experience as the sister of an adolescent with strong ADHD

my experience as the daughter of an adult with ADHD

i hope this will be helpful with writing believable, non-offensive ADHD and ADD characters.

WHAT IS ADHD?

ADHD is an executive dysfunction. ADHD is divided into four different types:

Inattentive

Hyperactive

Impulsive

Combination (two or all of the above)

ADHD VS. ADD

ADHD: Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder

ADD: Attention Deficit Disorder

ADD is a type of ADHD. As you may have guessed, is a term used when a person diagnosed with ADHD doesn’t show signs of hyperactivity.

Remember: ADD can be called ADHD, but ADHD cannot be called ADD.

They are different things, but since ADHD is more well-known, people with ADD might say they are ADHD instead to avoid having to give an explanation as to what ADD is. Unless you want to continuously have your ADD character explain what it means (or have every other character automatically know what it means, which is unrealistic) you will probably have them say they’re ADHD.

ADHD SYMPTOMS

Inattentive: getting distracted easily, having poor concentration and organization skills

Impulsive: interrupting, taking risks, poor impulse control

Hyperactive: difficulties staying on task, talking and fidgeting, never seeming to slow down

People experience these symptoms in different ways. People who were born with male chromosomes will often exhibit the more hyperactive side, while people born with female chromosomes will be more quietly inattentive.

Symptoms must effect your day-to-day life in order to actually mean ADHD! Getting distracted unusually easily once in a while doesn’t mean ADHD.

ADHD THINGS THAT AREN’T MEDICALLY SPOKEN OF

These are really just more specific things that usually come along with ADHD or ADD. (Not everybody has all--or even any--of these!)

Forgetting words

“what’s the word??? you know, like,,,, medium but sad. if something medium-sized was depressed. its,,,,, SMALL, THE WORD IS SMALL”

“i hate,,,, i HATE,,,,, what is it, it’s like racism but genders,,,,,, you know, pink & blue toys???? its--it’s---- PATRIARCHY, I HATE THE PATRIARCHY”

“what is it wHAT IS IT IT’S,,, AH FUCK,,,,, LIKE THE WORD IS ALSO BUT I---OH THE WORD IS BUT”

“i f o r g o t w h a t t o c a l l j o a n n e” “isn’t joanne,,, your mother?” “oh my god yes thats the word mother”

Procrastination

ugh, procrastination SUCKS. the kind of procrastination that comes with ADHD/ADD is like:

“i have to do this ihavetodothisihavetodothisihavetodothis” running through your head while you continue to NOT do the thing. You want to, absolutely you do, but for some reason you just can’t make yourself do it.

Night Owl, But Not Really

A lot of people with ADHD experience a kind of thing where during the day, they’re slowly waking up and “loading” their brain. Then, at night, they are FULLY READY FOR THE DAY and now cannot go to sleep, resulting in a continuation of the cycle.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Literally. If you cannot see it, it is not there. This results in:

Losing things. CONSTANTLY.

If it ends up in the back of the fridge, it’s going to rot (unless somebody cleans out the fridge before that).

Clothes at the bottom of the drawer/back of the closet will never be worn.

If there is a pile of papers, any paper that is not (and is not directly-four papers below) the top one is gone forever.

Closed box? Say goodbye to whatever was in it.

Homework in a folder? Oof, hope that wasn’t too much of your grade.

REJECTION SYNDROME

Rejection syndrome is most prominent in women with ADHD/ADD. I’m not sure how to accurately explain rejection syndrome without showing examples, so:

Somebody glances at you (however briefly), and you immediately think they’re judging you/being mean to you.

Two people are whispering, and you immediately assume they are saying mean things about you.

basically, rejection syndrome is a forever-heightened feeling that the people around you hate or dislike you.

that’s all for now! i hope this was helpful. if you have any questions about this or would like me to write a meta about something else, my asks are always open. i also recommend the blog @adhdbri if you’d like to see more of a “day-to-day life” example of ADHD. thanks for reading! bye!

#writing #writing tips #how to write #how to write a character with ADHD #how to write a character with ADD #how to #write #meta #metas #my meta #my metas #adhd #add #adhd is not what you think it is #adhdbri #about adhd #about add #what is adhd #what is add

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gagmebucky · 5 years

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[bad boy!bucky. teasing. kitten.]

“You’re fuckin’ responsive,” he answers himself, half-bemoaned like he can’t believe it, “like no one’s treated your little kitty like she deserves. But that’s okay ‘cause I’m here, and I’m gonna make it all better, kitten.” The last bit is a crooned promise. “Want me to fingerfuck your tight heat until you’re sobbing into the middle of my hand, don’t you?”

in which you’re supposed to tutor bucky but he has other plans. (includes bad boy!bucky x shy!reader, bucky’s pov, dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, fingering, mild exhibitionism and voyeurism.)

do not repost.

—

“Shouldn’t you be closer?” Bucky quirks a quizzical eyebrow from across the library table, lips slanted in the faintest of smirks, resisting a full blown show of teeth lest he intimidate you further.

Stacked shelf to shelf, the book-laden expanse is desolate on an eight o’clock evening. The maze of literature has a plethora of tables and chairs on in-house reading; of which, the both of you are stationed at one. At the farthest corner of the room, he’s moored you in a coven of privacy: obscured from the front desk by towers of wood and bound paper.

At the opposing head of the rectangular surface, you look up; the first glance in ten minutes since arriving for the studying session as you procrastinated under the guise of arranging the work space. Your wide eyes connect with his, and you swallow. “I. . . I,” you stammer before clearing your throat and nodding. “Yes. I - I suppose I should.”

His fingers flex subconsciously at the anticipation of having you within reach. “Okay, c’mon,” he encourages, settling forward as he pats the open seat beside him. “I won’t bite, kitten.” Before he can control himself, a smirk upturns his naturally redden lips, words drawling out like gravel, “Unless, of course, you want me to.”

Your pretty face darkens a bashful shade, and your mouth opens then shuts. You diligently gather your materials, fumbling some underneath the intensity of his carnivorously blue gaze. Once you’ve packed up your textbook and writing utensils, you grapple them to your chest. “I am just your tutor, James, and all we’ll be doing is studying,” you state, hushed and insistent, almost as if to convince yourself.

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, his teeth following to nibble on them before releasing. “Whatever you say, kitten,” he claims, but there’s a covetous glint in his dilated pupils that says otherwise.

Albeit with hesitation, you pad down to the chair directly diagonal from him and sit. A unique lull of vanilla and cinnamon greet his senses, another intoxicating whiff when you flip your physics book open to a chapter about electromagnetic waves.

After skimming it with your eyes, you straighten. “Okay, um,” you say without looking at him. “Are you sure you want me to tutor you? Because it’s not my major, and I’m only getting a B—”

“I’m sure.”

Unbeknownst to you—and to anyone who looks at him—he’s getting an A in Introduction to Cosmology. The thing is, he heard you’re one of the volunteer tutors; what’s a better way to get to know you than through deceiving you into being alone with him in a nearly empty library.

A part of him feels guilty for that but it’s a necessary evil. Utilizing your predilection for helping others, he’s finally gotten you on your own. With your generally skittish personality, amplified when it comes to a roguish reputation like his, it was his only course of action. And he’s wanted this, wanted you for awhile now.

Ever since he’s seen you in the front row of class, jotting down line and line of lecture, catching glimpses of your face buried in a book underneath the campus tree, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his head. But upon approaching you, you were all stuttering and clumsily running away.

Turns out, his capable temper and brazenly illicit activities are more infamous than he initially thought. Which he should feel proud about, not annoyed by. But given its fault in thwarting his courting of you, there’s a flicker of agitation.

That particular emotion is simmering with every second he inhales your bewitching aroma and eyes your beauty up-close. Warmly dimmed lights cast down a glow on your face, the shadow of your cheekbones, the length of your fluttering lashes. Your eyebrows are pinched cutely in concentration as you scan over his error-ridden homework, pink tongue peeking against your upper lip.

God. You’re so cute. But in a way that makes him want to sheathe himself inside you as deep as possible and watch you writhe around on his cock beneath him.

His jaw locks briefly as desire pits in his stomach. And, he knows he’s staring, an intensity of hunger display within his shark-like eyes. Undoubtedly, you see through his storming oceanic pools and know that there’s a gluttony of dastardly impulses flashing through his mind; carnal movies starring you and him in the leading roles.

For the millionth time, you clear your throat. “S - so, I think we should go over the easy ones first. Then we - we. . .” you fumble over your instruction when his hand finds its way on your thigh, squeezing lightly through your skirt. You gulp and spare a nervous glance around then whisper, “What are you d - doing?”

“Trying to learn,” he answers casually, moving his hand to slip underneath the fabric. He withholds a sound at the soft smoothness contrasting against his rough palm. Gauging your reaction, the shiver that slithers down your spine but the alarm widening your big eyes, he stills in place, tracing lazy circles with his thumb. “Aren’t you gonna help me, kitten?”

You nod quickly. “Y - yes, of course.” You shuffle in your chair but he keeps a steady hold on you. “What I was saying is that, we’ll go slow then when you understand the basics, we’ll go f - faster with some harder problems.”

“You know, I’m the type of person who prefers to go fast. I like to go in all at once, no preparation. . .” He licks his bottom lip. “Fast and hard. You think you can handle that, kitten?” On cue with the pet name, he glides his palm up your sensitive inner thighs, inching to where you’re radiating heat.

Immediately, you gasp. “J - James!” you admonish a little too loudly and drop your pen to seize his wrist as it fixes between the cradle of your hips. “I - I’m trying to tutor you; what are you d - doing?” Despite the appalledness of your voice, your hips are instinctively bucking into the stimulation.

“I’m listening,” he insists innocently, tilting his head as if perplexed by your fidgeting. “Is there something wrong? D’you need to use the bathroom?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, clearly crossed between calling him out and brushing it off. To his lucky surprise, you chose the latter. “L - let’s begin, then.” You relinquish his wrist and focus on the work splayed out on the table. “The test is coming up, and you’ll need to memorize the equations so - so—” When his hand reaches your panties and his index finger draws lines up and down your slit with the faintest of touches, you jolt, gasping, “James, we’re supposed to be studying!”

The look on your face, he can't get enough of it: embarrassment attempting to cover the need shining in your sparkling eyes. “I am.” He chuckles huskily as he undulates his fingertips along your cloth-clad slit. “I’m studying your little pussy. And you wanna know what I notice right off the bat?” he questions like you can respond but you’re too busy shoving a fist in your mouth and smothering sounds as he goes to work.

He kneads your sex crudely, manipulating the weeping flesh through soaked cotton between his fingers. He hasn’t touched you for more than a minute, and you’re already a puddle against the chair—slicked up and primed for something to fill up that tight hollowness inside you.

“You’re fuckin’ responsive,” he answers himself, half-bemoaned like he can’t believe it, “like no ones treated your little kitty like she deserves. But that’s okay ‘cause I’m here, and I’m gonna make it all better, kitten.” The last bit is a crooned promise. “Want me to fingerfuck your tight heat until you’re sobbing into the middle of my hand, don’t you?”

As you nod with fluttering lashes, he bypasses your underwear and palms your hot, soft mound. A moan vibrates through his throat at the same time you squeal. He beelines for your clit, swollen and just begging for abuse—which he’s more than happy to provide, to wear the tiny bundle of nerves out until you just can’t stop shaking.

The mere image of your cute self undone like that in the public has all the blood rushing to his cock and straining for release; for you to give him that release but that’s not his aim right here and now. Right here and now, it’s about corrupting someone as sweet and good as you—to be the blackguard that unravels you like candy bar and eats you whole.

“G - god. That’s good,” you whimper, raking your nails down his muscular forearms, and he’ll wear the red marks with pride in the future. You survey the surroundings but he can’t care less about whether someone’s watching. “James. H - hold on—”

He pauses and lifts a brow because you’re still rutting into his caress like a dog in heat. “You really want me to stop, kitten? ‘Cause your sexy body is telling me otherwise.” If you want him to stop, he has zero qualms about doing it; he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get you in your entirety.

You shake your head. “N - no. I - I like it,” you whisper shyly, blinking those hypnotizing orbs at him. “But—”

Cutting you off, a familiar voice rings out, “Hey!” Deep and annoyingly authoritative, he identifies the blond librarian’s baritone pitch. Heavy footsteps on hardwood became louder as a build rivaling Bucky intevenes. “I heard someone yell—”

Bucky grunts. “We’re just fine, Rogers.” He punctuates the word by parting a finger past your tumescented folds, sliding in with a curved angle until he hears your muffled but telltale choke that he's about to stroke your g-spot. A smirk curls into his lips as you slump in your seat, arms braced around your head to hide your face. “Oh, yeah. We’re doing great.”

Steve narrows his eyes and folds his arms, nonverbally saying he won’t be brushed off that easily. “Am I seriously supposed to trust someone like you, Barnes?” he retorts with a scoff and takes a step closer to examine you.

Which, if it were anyone else, he’d tell them to fuck off before he makes them. In this case, however, he’s knuckle deep inside you, and he sorta wants Steve to know that. In Bucky’s failed attempts to pursue you, he noticed that his childhood frenemy had also developed feelings for you, but is too daft to act on them. So, there’s some satisfaction in showing him you’re literally wrapped around his finger.

Your channel possesses him like a vice, practically gushing with every slow thrust, fevered like the contents of a volcano, and soft like silk; he knows you’ve been made to be seated around his cock. And with that conviction in his head, he’s going to show you off proudly.

“Kitten, why don’t you tell Stevie here that I’m taking good care of you?” Bucky purrs in your ear, gaze connected with the fiery depths of Steve’s. “Just reassure him that I’m handling my perfect little kitty just like she needs.”

It takes you a minute to gather yourself—not that it helps—then you raise your head. Your face is dazed in unmistakable desire, a shimmering sheen of sweat around your forehead, pupils blown wide. “I - I’m fine,” you croak, a tone away from being a moan. “James is h - helping me.”

Satisfaction fills him, and he has to share how pleased he is with you. Keeping the heel of his palm flushed against your clit, the texturized pad of his finger rasps over that soft spot inside you over and over, speed quickening every time, making you sporadically spasm around him.

The sensations hit you at once because you coil yourself into his embrace, trembling with your nose pressed into his chest, and his other arm huddles you close while his fingers play you like a fiddle. His black t-shirt does a decent job of suppressing your pleasure-heavy cries, but in a library setting, the noises are unmistakable.

In shock—jealousy or arousal, both probably—Steve takes a step back, eyes like moons and lips parted as he watches the girl he has a crush on shudder and sob in the throes of orgasm within the arms of his frenemy. All the time, Bucky’s remain on his, an infuriating smirk upturned on his lips.

Because he’s an asshole, he ducks down to stage-whisper in your ear, “That’s it, kitten. Squeeze my fingers, show me how tight you’ll feel bouncing on my cock. Be a good girl for me, and do exactly what I say.” Your cries crescendo, and your channel twitches warningly. “There she goes. You’ve got the softest, littlest, wettest pussy, don’t you, kitten? And I’m the only one who gets to have you, right?”

Along with a nod, there’s a distinct bleat of, “Y - yes!” And that snaps Steve out of his perverse trance, blinking back into reality, and spinning on his heels to storm off, probably to jerk off or punch something. Either way, Bucky’s having the best time he’s had in awhile, and it’s all thanks to you.

You bite into his pectoral through the blend of polyester and cotton when you cum, a sting that he absolutely loves. Your velvet walls pulsate and throb as you flood his hand, your whole body vibrating with the force that upheaves you.

He rocks you through it: repeatedly cooes of “Good, kitten,” and waning strokes of his fingers, holding you snugly. Once the convulsions have stopped, he pops his finger free and sucks it clean. At the taste, a groan wrenches through his throat, and the urge to get on his knees and lap at the source dominates him.

Blearily, you look up at him, all timid and such. And he feels his heart melt. “I don’t want you to fail,” you blurt out. “I’m sorry!”

He cracks a grin. “It’s fine. I’m doing good in that class, anyway.” He cups your cheek. “I just wanted to hang out with you. Why don’t we get something to eat, and then later, I’ll eat you?”

Although flustered, you nod with a small smile. “O - okay.”

[masterlist / feedback]

#bucky x reader #bucky x you smut #bucky barnes imagines #marvel imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel x you #marvel smut #my writing

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fullwets · 4 years

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shoeydaniel's top works of 2020 ❤️

I was tagged by my dearest darling @captainfuu like . two entire months ago. and by the literal MVP of this hellsite, @eight-hearts, today 🙈 thank you both so much!

i’ll tag @pierreswrists @pierrelli @jeeperslatifi @estebanoconz bc i am a massive fan of all of ur work. only if you want to! grrrr i was gonna tag everyone first but then i procrastinated and now everyone’s done it already

Rules: It’s time to love yourself. Choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world. Tag as many writers/artist/etc. you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

5. over the last ~14 months or so I’ve started drawing again!! Literally while procrastinating for finals I drew Harry Styles in the margins of my class reading and was like “oh shit i can draw?” The rest is history. I am going to cheat and include multiple drawings as one entry on this list kjhdksjhd. Here’s my F1-related sketch dump

4. in the same vein - here’s another, non-f1 sketch dump

side note: I have nicknamed this era of my drawings “The PearsonVUE.com/Military Collection” bc i was trying to use up a stack of branded post-its from my dad’s old employer 💀 rip pearsonvue postits. im so glad we finally ran out bc there were like 500 of those bitches.

3. all my heart finds true

long story short @pierreswrists wrote something in the tags of a reblog that inspired me, and I said we should turn it into a fic together, so we wrote a fic about love letters and crossing an ocean to be with someone you love, and then I had to take a break from writing said fic bc I was falling for her and i didn’t want to associate us with maxiel, and here we are four months later, in a relationship. It’s embarrassing. Anyway. I’m proud of what we made! And it was very very cool to create something collaboratively.

2. yellow, yellow, gold, and ochre

My precious, precious, horror fic! I call this one “savior pierre” in my head, and it was entirely inspired by the events of Monza 2020, and it’s gen (yay for being a Normal Human Being), and it made N compliment me and now we’re friends!!!! Eeeee! Writing horror was actually very fun and I hope I do it again some day.

1. Heels turned black

despite the fact that i no longer produce maxiel in any form, i am still SO fucking proud of this fic. I made friends through this, I entered the F1 fandom through this, and most importantly, it’s my favorite piece of writing I’ve ever completed. I love the way I wrote it, I was blown away by the response people had, it felt so satisfying to complete. I don’t think there’s much else to say. J once made a post about how much she loved it that I still have saved in my drafts to this day. L left me not one but several essay-length comments filled with red-gold emoji that made me gasp when i received them. S read it immediately after she was released from the hospital and now we’re girlfriends. htb really truly is the culmination of my year.

#who knew 2020 would be the year i actually became an honest to god fic writer? certainly not me!#my art #my fic #the pierres wrists pic was almost its own entry but sadly i dont have a good picture of it jkdhksjhdkj #also like 2 of these are already dedicated to stacey and i was like. hmm. i am repeating myself kjfdhskjhd #i DO think im gonna archive lock my fics at some point in the new year so.. consider this ur warning #long post

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solllaris · 4 years

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retrograde — 01

↳ here.

PAIRING: Frat!Tom / Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: It takes some convincing, but you ultimately agree to go to a frat party and are pushed out of your comfort zone in more than one way.

WARNINGS: language, underage drinking, anxiety/panic attacks, & insecure thoughts

WORDS: 5874

NOTE: This series is my baby so please be nice. The reader’s fears and anxieties are basically a reflection of my own, so posting this makes me feel super vulnerable. There were many moments I seriously considered deleting everything I had made for this series because I was too afraid to put myself out there like this, but obviously I didn’t. I really want the reader’s story to help someone or make them feel like they’re not alone because anxiety can make you feel so isolated at times. So to the person reading this right now, to the person with anxiety or depression or whatever: You are not alone. You will never be alone. And I hope this story shows you that somehow.

series masterlist — masterlist — add yourself to my taglist!

Tortoise shell glasses the color of honey inched their way down the bridge of your nose again and you would’ve been greatly annoyed if your glazed-over eyes weren’t focused on the large plastic cup of coffee on the table. Fingers still tensed and poised over the laptops keyboard, your attention had shifted for the millionth time to the dark browns streaking through the blonde colored liquid at the bottom and your fried out brain was mesmerized by it. Anything was more intriguing than the open, half-way completed book review on your computer screen where the blinking cursor taunted you from the corner of your eye. At your wits end, you turned away completely with a groan that you stifled with a hopefully motivating gulp of your iced cold brew swirled with caramel.

Shoving the frames further up your nose where they belonged, you nursed the straw of your coffee between your tongue and teeth and glanced briefly about the room. The Learning Commons was fairly full for ten in the morning, but you weren’t too surprised; it was the go-to place to go — not only to get coursework done, but also to just unwind and mess around. That Friday morning hadn’t been any different from the rest and bleary-eyed college students milled about, drinking their caffeine from the God-sent Starbucks in the building and chatting to their friends through sleepy slurs. For a person who really enjoyed people-watching, the Learning Commons was the prime place for you to spend most of your time. You blended in and fell into the shadows just as you liked.

Blinking twice, you realized you had zoned out again. Your vision focused and you saw you had been staring blankly across the room at a boy drooling all over his open textbook. His slackened grip around his mechanical pencil kept allowing it to fall over in his hand, rousing him each time for only a few seconds and then he was out cold again. The sight made you laugh under your breath and you impulsively tipped your head back onto your roommate’s thigh from where she was sprawled out on the couch behind you. Just as you wanted, Scout’s fingers that had been raking through your hair stilled to let you know you had her attention.

“Look,” You said loud enough for her to hear over the raucous youths around you and discreetly pointed across the way at the sleepy boy. “That’s about to be me if I don’t get this paper done soon, I swear to everything Holy.”

A snort exploded through her nostrils and your head jostled with the movements of her leg kicking the guy whose lap they rested in.

“Jude.”

Another harsh nudge to his thigh and the frustrated boy mashed a button on his video game controller, a ‘paused’ message appearing on the flat screen TV. A harsh, pointed look urged her to continue so he could get back to his game.

“That guy over there looks just like you.”

When you glanced back over, the drooling guy had completely given up on at least attempting to remain upright to look like he was getting work done. His cheek was smashed against the pages of his book, pushing his lips out in a pucker face, and his wrecked hair stuck up at odd angles on his forehead. An unbridled bubble of laughter threatened to come up your throat and you had managed to contain it — until a little string of drool puddled on the paper his cheek rested upon. Both you and Scout shook with the force of your giggles and you briefly found yourself thinking that it probably wasn’t that funny, but to a sleep-deprived university student it was comedic gold.

Jude must’ve shoved Scout’s legs off his lap if the loud ‘thud!’ of her feet hitting the floor beside you were any indication. They came dangerously close to knocking over your cup of caffeine — the only thing getting you through the early hours of the morning — and you were quick to snatch it up, cradling it to your chest like a protective mother. Your look of disgust towards your two friends was completely ignored, overlooked by Scout’s cry of protest and Jude’s annoyed, but slightly amused, glare at the girl.

“That’s what you made me pause my game for?” He huffed, tugging his fingers through his dark tufts of hair.

She shrugged, a shit-eating grin on her face as she plopped her warm toned legs back onto his lap. “Y/n said it first, not me.”

You were mid-sip, a mouthful of bitter coffee coating your tongue when you squealed a close-mouthed noise of protest, widened eyes flickering between your friends.

“I did not!” You cried once you’d successfully swallowed without choking. “I said that would be me if I didn’t finish my paper soon.”

“Lies,” Scout muttered.

Twisting your body to face her, the back of your hand smacked against her bare outer thigh, a loud and satisfying ‘smack!’ emitting from the harsh flesh on flesh contact. Your puppy dog eyes turned to Jude, bottom lip jutting out just slightly and he laughed, the action making his irises twinkle and scrunch closed.

“I’d never say that about you, J,” You said cutely.

He bumped his knee against your right shoulder lightly, jostling you to the side, and rolled his eyes but the tiny upwards lift to the corners of his mouth told you he was far from annoyed.

“Alright, alright, I believe you.” He groaned, quickly flicking his gaze back to the TV and unpausing his game. “Fuck you and your puppy eyes.”

Grinning triumphantly, you sipped your coffee happily and flopped back against the front of the couch. The sleeping computer screen on the coffee table immediately put a pin in your bubble of contentment, an instant frown replacing the bright smile on your lips. You set aside your half empty cup with a heavy sigh and swiped a finger along the smooth track-pad, waking it from its automatic sleep to tuck back into the four page book review for your U.S. History class. The cursor blinked approximately five or six times before you began to type, but you had barely written three words when the glass doors of the Learning Commons burst open and a group of rowdy boys piled through the entrance.

Well, you thought. Maybe just one more day of procrastinating won’t hurt.

A muffled groan sounded from Scout. “Great. Your frat brothers decided to grace us with their presence, J.”

Your fingers went slack over the lit up keys and you slouched defeatedly; at the rate you were going, the outcome of your paper was beginning to look more and more dim, but the fraternity boys couldn’t care less that some people were actually attempting to get their assignments done by their due dates. They joked and jostled each other and you kind of hoped they could feel the blazing burn of your laser-beam glare you shot their way, but their oblivious grins stuck a pin in your wishes. You watched them for a moment longer as they split off, some falling into the snack bar or coffee line while others drifted towards a vacant table or couch; you took that as your cue to pack up your things and traipse across campus to the library. (Why did you pick somewhere so loud to write a whole ass paper anyway?)

Scout managed to tear her attention from her phone long enough to notice you zipping up your bag and beginning to stand.

She quirked a perfectly shaped brow and asked, “Where are you going? It’s only 10:30; our Psych class isn’t until 12.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I wasn’t aware that the class I’ve been going to every Friday for a month now doesn’t start until 12,” You bit back with the most deadpan tone you could muster.

Jude snorted without taking his eyes off the TV, his fingers never ceasing their rapid movements between buttons on the game controller. Scout responded with a swift kick to said controller (which earned her a string of expletives as he fumbled to retrieve it off the floor) and waggled a chipped nail-polished finger at you.

“First of all, the ‘tude is not appreciated and second, both of your friends are sitting right here so my question is very valid.”

“Okay, rude.” You pouted sulkily as you gathered your hair to tie it up into a bun with the velvety pink scrunchie on your wrist. “And if you must know, I’m going to the library because it’s way too loud in here to write a paper.”

“Ugh.” Scout groaned and threw her legs off the side of the couch, rolling off onto the floor in the most ungraceful maneuver you’d ever witnessed in your life. “I guess I’ll go with you. I still haven’t finished that Biology worksheet due today.”

“Really?” You inquired absentmindedly as you fiddled with your messy bun in the reflection on your darkened phone screen. (She was taking forever and you needed something to do so you didn’t look like a complete moron.) “I finished it like the day she handed it out last week.”

You didn’t even have to look over at the caramel-skinned girl to know that she had rolled her eyes hard enough to get stuck inside her head. “Literally no one asked,” She retorted.

“Mmm, and to think I was actually going to give you all the answers..”

Just as you watched her expression morph into a sickly sweet one, a shrill whistle cut through every conversation in the room. The loud chattering of college students died down to muted whispers until the only distinguishable sounds were the whirring of the old air conditioning unit in the building and the clambering of shoes against wood; once you turned away from Scout you saw that the latter had come from a blonde boy in basketball shorts standing on a table in the center of the room. Kappa Sigma was emblazoned proudly across the chest of the scarlet colored hoodie he wore and you fought the urge to roll your eyes because of course he was in a fraternity.

The blonde frat boy’s voice faintly resonated in your ears, but you turned away from his dramatic display anyway to latch onto the sleeve of Scout’s over-sized Harvard University t-shirt. You insistently tugged on the crimson colored material because you really just wanted to get a head-start on your paper. Instead of relenting and following you, she simply shrugged you off and it was then that you got distracted with one look at a stupidly attractive guy in a stupidly, tight t-shirt.

If you had ever seen someone who was truly poured into a shirt it was this guy. The gray material was stretched taut across his pectorals and abdomen, dipping and curling into each chiseled line on his body. The stitching around the short sleeves looked two seconds away from ripping open as his biceps bulged from the way he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. You didn’t think the view could get any better until your eyes slid further up to a jawline that could probably cut straight through glass and to top it off, a head full of effortless curls—your ultimate weakness. You were pretty sure you were gaping open-mouthed at him at that point, but it wasn’t everyday that you saw a real life fucking angel on campus.

So yes, you gaped at him. Proudly.

Until you were caught...which you were seconds later.

Your heart dipped dangerously low in your chest and for a moment it felt like the warm blood in your veins had turned to ice. That feeling of sudden panic from such a cute guy looking at you prompted you to swiftly turn away; the cold you had felt literal seconds prior shifted to an uncomfortable warmth as the shock of being caught staring shifted to embarrassment. Your brain raced almost as quickly as your heart and you tried to pretend to focus on the blonde guy standing on a table to calm down, but then you made the dumb decision to sneak another peek.

Big, big mistake on your part.

Insanely hot frat guy was still looking at you. Not only was he still staring, but the beginnings of a smirk were forming on his pink lips and maybe he was not-so-subtly flexing his biceps. Seeing the corded muscles ripple and bulge under his tan skin truly was entrancing and if Scout hadn’t grabbed you by the material of your sweatshirt you would’ve stood and stared for a little bit longer.

Fingers snapped in front of your face and you blinked once, twice, three times before she really came into focus. She shot you a funny look and asked, “Seriously, what were you staring at?” She followed your gaze when your eyes instinctively shot back towards the insanely hot frat guy—who had thankfully looked away. “What is wrong with y—ohhh.”

A shit-eating grin stretched across her face and you immediately groaned. “Don’t start, okay?” You grumbled and finally managed to pull her towards the glass double doors. “He’s stupid hot and I was respectfully looking.”

Scout snorted from behind you as you held the door for her, both of you stepping outside and beginning the trek across campus to the library.

“You were point two seconds away from drooling,” She teased, bumping your arm with her elbow.

You felt the heat tickling at your cheeks and ears again, so you quickly changed the subject.

“Anyway,” You said pointedly, shooting her a look that could kill. “What was that whole ‘getting on the table’ display about?”

“Right. I forgot you were a little... preoccupied.” She smirked and dodged your incoming fist, giggling like a maniac. “Okay, okay! There’s a party at the Kappa Sigma house tonight.”

Scrunching your nose up at the mention of a party, you tossed your empty cup of iced coffee in a trash bin as you passed.

“Well, I have a hot date with Doctor McDreamy and I can’t miss it. You know how much I love me some Derek Shepherd.”

Just as you reached for the door handle to the library, she smacked your hand away with a serious expression.

“C’mon!” She whined, her bottom lip jutting out like a child. “You’ve never been to a party with me. It’ll be fun!”

“My definition of ‘fun’ is very different from yours, Scout.”

A sly smile turned her full lips upwards again. “Tom will be there…”

Your brows furrowed as you wracked your brain to put a name to a face. Tom. Did you know a Tom?

“Um. Am I supposed to know who that is?” You asked cluelessly.

Scout groaned. “Tom Holland. The guy you were ogling in the LC,” She explained with a ‘duh’ tone in her voice.

Absentmindedly you fiddled with the strap of your shoulder bag. You were already growing tired of the conversation and wished she’d just drop it; if anyone knew your anxiety situation, it was her and you thought she’d learned by now that you would never set foot in a party. Attending a frat party of all things was sure to bring on a panic attack and you’d rather not hyperventilate in front of a bunch of testosterone-filled college guys. No way in hell.

Exhaling an exasperated sigh, you shifted on your feet tiredly and let your head fall back towards the sky.

“Is that supposed to convince me?” You shifted around your friend and managed to snag the door open before she could stop you. “Because it’s not working.”

Save for a girl lightly snoring on one of the couches and a guy wearing glasses slaving over his keyboard, the library was practically barren. You immediately felt comforted as you traipsed along the outskirts of the large room, like a warm hug after coming home from a long day; except it was barely after eleven in the morning and you were ashamed to admit that you already needed comforting. Whilst another large exhale huffed past your lips at the thought, you dropped your bag down on the worn cushions of a couch pushed under a window and plopped yourself next to it rather ungracefully.

A rather loud thump resounded through the room as Scout carelessly deposited her own things on the floor by a comfortable looking arm chair; she simply shrugged at your warning glance, mumbling “those two are dead to the world anyway” under her breath and turned to pull a black binder from her backpack.

Soon, the silence between you two was filled with the clicking of your fingers across the keys on your laptop and the scratching of her mechanical pencil on paper. It was nice—relaxing even—and you sunk further into the soft couch that hugged your body, your mind only filled with the words you needed to get down to finish your stupid book review.

What kind of history class has to write a book review anyway? This wasn’t English.

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

A small wad of balled up notebook paper hit your left cheek, bouncing off and into the crack between the cushions. Before you could retort, she was already whispering vehemently.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the party.” She stabbed her pencil in your direction as she spoke. “You’re going. Plus, I’ll be with you the whole night. Promise.”

Arguing with Scout was like arguing with a brick wall—pointless and you’d never win and you honestly just wanted her to shut up at this point; so even though the idea of standing in the Kappa Sigma frat house while the plaster walls vibrated and bodies jostled around you almost made you want to throw up, you reluctantly agreed to go with her. You tried to convince yourself it wouldn’t be so bad, that your best friend would be at your side the entire night, but you still couldn’t shake the butterflies in your belly the entire day.

Just as you’d expected, you were pretty sure you were this close to blowing chunks in Kappa Sigma’s bushes.

The lawn was crawling with college students bearing drinks and you were thrown into the middle of them, one hand clasped in Scout’s as she led you up to the porch and the other anxiously fiddling with the hem of your gingham printed shorts. You were hyper aware of everything happening around you: knocking shoulders with a short, blonde girl, the loud shouts over a game of flip cup, the bass of the song playing in your chest, and a putrid, skunk-like smell that caught in your lungs no matter what you did. Already you wanted to leave, but one look at your best friend’s excited face had you willing yourself to suck it up and try to have fun.

Clutching onto Scout’s hand like it was your only lifeline, she guided you through the foyer and an expansive dining room before reaching the kitchen and the pressure in your chest lifted enough to calm your racing heart; it was significantly less crowded, only inhabited by a small group of girls and a guy with his head stuck in the refrigerator. You watched as Scout paid none of them any mind and instead helped herself to two red solo cups, pointing the nozzle to the keg in one and letting it fill with the sepia toned beer before doing the same with the other cup.

You had just opened your mouth to protest, but the look she shot you had the words dying in your throat.

“Just trust me, alright?” She said and you let her shove the full cup into your hand. “It’ll help with your nerves.”

For a brief second your gaze flickered to the group of three girls seated at the kitchen island, all huddled together and speaking in low tones. It made your skin prickle and heat up and you wondered if they were talking about you—how out of place you seemed.

The white brim of your cup slotted between your glossed-up lips and you took a hefty swig. You immediately scrunched your face up in disgust at the bitter, watery taste of the ale but you were willing to down it if it drowned out your impending anxiety for the night.

“Ugh.” You cringed and peered at the frothy beer in distaste. “How do you drink this shit?”

Scout just grinned and raised her beer in the air.

“Cheers bitch,” She hummed and downed a gulp big enough to puff out her cheeks with the liquid. “Now drink up.”

So, you did cautiously while she retrieved her phone from her back pocket; you distantly heard her say the words “text” and “Jude” but you were more focused on the guy leaning against the counter a few steps away. It was the same guy who’d been rummaging in the fridge when you came in and it appeared he’d found what he wanted: a bottle of Michelob Ultra that he held by the neck. His other hand was occupied by his phone, his head tilted downwards as he scrolled with his thumb, but then he tipped it back to sip his drink and your heart plummeted.

You wasted no time grabbing Scout by her bicep to get her attention.

“Don’t look now but super hot frat guy, Tom, is literally right there,” You whispered frantically through gritted teeth and tugged her towards the exit.

Of course, she resisted. The “don’t look now” part of your sentence slipped in one ear and out the other because she turned back to glance at him with the subtlety of a hand grenade. Her small squeal had you yanking her back around, your stomach rolling with enough nerves to make you vomit for real this time.

“I literally just said—”

Just after the words left your mouth, Jude sauntered into the kitchen, loudly exclaiming: “Tom, man, how long does it take to get a drink?” Then, his six-foot-three hulking physique lumbered towards you and Scout—which effectively made Tom’s dark brown irises lock onto you. “And why have you guys not answered my texts? We’re about to start another round of flip cup.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes and you wished you were dead. You knew you should’ve stayed in the safety of your dorm with Meredith Grey and Derek Shepherd. Why didn’t you?

Maybe it was because you were the biggest pushover on campus?

Yeah, that had to be it.

“Sorry, mate.” Tom didn’t glance away from you as he spoke. You noticed a smirk playing at his thin lips before it was covered by the open top of his beer bottle when he took a drag. “I guess I got a little... distracted.”

His little jab at you didn’t go unnoticed.

Yep, he definitely recognized you from earlier in the day when you practically undressed him.

Deep down you knew he was just messing with you, but you couldn’t help feeling humiliated—like you were the center of a joke and not the kind of joke where he was laughing with you; suddenly overcome with a need to escape, you ignored his remark and turned to Scout and Jude instead.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna go to the bathroom or step outside really quick.”

You barely heard her concerned voice asking if you wanted her to come with you before you were high-tailing it out of the room and up the dark wooden stairs in the foyer. You took them two at a time and in your haste to ascend them, the smelly beer in your still-full-to-the-brim cup sloshed over the rim and saturated the front of your black shirt and flowy shorts. Your face contorted in discomfort at the feeling of your wet clothes sticking to your skin as you slowed down, reaching the top floor at a more careful pace. The paranoid feeling that everyone was watching you make a fool of yourself began to set in and just as your breathing started to escalate, you ducked into the first bedroom you saw and quickly shut it with a click.

Absentmindedly, you sat your now half empty beer cup on the dresser by the door and slumped back against the wood. The cold doorknob pressed into the bottom of your spine but you didn’t care because all you could think about was the soaked fabric clinging to your front, Tom’s subtle mocking comment, and the feeling you’d felt coming up the steps.

In the back of your mind you knew how dramatic and blown out of proportion you were acting; your anxiety, however, didn’t get the memo. So there you were, panting and quivering in some random frat guy’s room with tears pooling at your lash line. You were beginning to feel nauseous lurches in your stomach and all you wanted was to go home.

You’d never wanted to be here in the first place.

An uncomfortable warmth bloomed in your chest around your heart—a feeling you were all too familiar with. If you had to guess, you assumed it was the way a heart attack might feel. You were panicking for absolutely no reason at all and all that you knew was that you needed to get out of here.

With shaky hands, you pulled your phone out of your bra and wiped away the sticky residue from the beer before composing a new text to Scout.

Sent at 11:33 PM: i feel sick. i think i’m gonna head back to our dorm

Then, feeling inexplicably guilty for not even trying, you typed again as your tears left splotches on your screen.

Sent at 11:33 PM: i’m really sorry

The click of your phone locking sounded like a blaring horn to your over-sensitized body and you slumped tiredly into a desk chair, shoving your phone somewhere on the desk carelessly. You were still shaking and you didn’t know if you were cold or hot and bile had started to burn your throat and in your hazy mind you swore you heard the doorknob turning but who knows?

“Uh, what the fuck are you doing in my room?”

If you thought you were going to throw up before then you definitely were now.

You grabbed the trash bin beside the desk and hung your head over it, the contents of the day emptying from your anxious stomach.

“Christ,” The guy grumbled in annoyance. Didn’t you know that voice from somewhere? “Of course. A drunk girl chooses my room to throw up in out of all the fuckin’ other rooms in this house.”

Shame crept up your neck and made you feel even hotter than you already were. You felt like such a mess—you reeked of alcohol, your hair was damp from a cold-sweat, and a stranger had just witnessed you puking your guts out. Great.

You couldn’t speak. All you could do was take shaky, staggered breaths and sniffle through your tears but you did manage to see who the mean guy in the room with you was. Just as your luck would have it, the guy whose bedroom you’d taken hostage in was none other than Tom Holland.

Your stomach twisted and again you ducked your head back in the bin to puke some more.

“Look. I’m sorry you feel like shit and drank too much but you’ve gotta get outta here.” You felt his large, strong hand curl around your bare bicep to tug you up out of his chair. “C’mon. Time to go.”

It was at that moment Tom finally noticed three things: that you were the girl from earlier in the LC, then again in the frat’s kitchen, that you were shaking like a leaf against him, and that you were struggling to breathe normally. It was clear to him you weren’t throwing up because you were drunk; you were throwing up because you were having a full-blown panic attack.

In his bedroom.

And he’d been nothing but a dick to you so far.

“Woah, hey, hey,” He murmured softly, his voice taking on a much gentler tone. Delicately, he brushed the sweaty hair from your warm cheeks and allowed one of his palms to meet the small of your back. “It’s okay. You’re alright, darlin’.”

You focused all your attention on the quiet hum of his voice in your right ear and the silver cross necklace rising and falling on his chest with each breath. You tried to sync your breaths with his even, steady ones and although it took awhile, you managed to calm yourself down to a non-hysterical state.

Tom’s fingers, however, never faltered in their dance along your spine. “Good girl,” He hummed soothingly.

Tingles tickled at each of your vertebrae.

Good girl. Was he trying to kill you?

Clearing your throat, you set the trash bin beside the desk where it lived and stood up to move closer to the door and away from Tom. You were pretty sure you’d embarrassed yourself in front of a hot guy enough for one day and didn’t want to do anything rash...like jump his bones for calling you a good girl.

You felt yourself getting hot again.

“I’m sorry.” You fiddled with the damp hem of your shirt, unable to meet his gaze. “I just...needed some air and then I spilt beer all over myself and—yeah.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” He shrugged like a girl having a panic attack in his room was normal, then gestured to your ruined outfit. “I’ve got some stuff you can borrow if you want.”

“Oh! No, it’s okay, really—”

“C’mon. That can’t be comfortable,” He said with a raised brow. He was already rummaging through his dresser drawers before you could protest anymore. “Let me help you out, alright? I’ve already been the biggest dick to you tonight.”

You couldn’t argue with that, so you took the clean clothes from his outstretched hand and sent him an awkward smile.

“Thanks. I’ll, um, get these back to you. Sometime.”

He grinned at how awkward and fumbly you were. It was cute. He liked that he was the cause of it.

“Sounds like a pretty good plan to me,” He agreed cheekily, unable to hide the smile on his lips. “Gives me an excuse to see you again, huh, darlin’?”

Oh.

This boy was definitely trying to make you explode and you were two seconds away from doing so, sweat pooling even quicker in areas you didn’t even want to fathom.

Thankfully, before you had the chance to embarrass yourself any further, Tom turned his back on you, chuckling lowly under his breath and urged you to get changed.

As you toed out of your high-tops and peeled your sticky, black shirt from your torso, your attention wavered just as you reached for his heather grey t-shirt. You distractedly grasped the soft material to put it on, but you were too entranced by Tom’s back muscles through his own shirt to follow through.

The fabric was stretched taut over the expanse of his broad shoulders and every little movement allowed you to see the rippling muscle that was underneath it. Your fingers itched to slip under his shirt and feel his toned back for yourself, to lightly dig your n—

“Jude said your friend is waitin’ for you on the porch.” His English twang had you throwing the clean clothes on hastily before he turned back around. “I’ll walk you down.”

All you wanted was to get out of this frat house and into your shower as quickly as possible so you agreed even though you felt like your insides were on fire.

You gathered your dirty clothes and hooked your fingertips into the canvas backs of your shoes before you were ushered out into the corridor. The party seemed to have thinned out a considerable amount with only the occasional person loitering about on the second floor; the thought of someone seeing you with Tom’s baggy clothes on made your cheeks flush and you tilted your head down towards the floor, avoiding anyone’s curious eye. To your anxious mind, it felt like everyone was watching you and Tom descend the grand stairs in the fraternity’s house so you held your gaze with the dark hardwood floor the entire trek to the porch.

His warm palm met the small of your back for the second time that night and you cautiously glanced up into his dark brown irises. You were surprised to see the incredibly soft edge they had taken on and even more surprised by the way your spine instinctively arched against his hand.

A guy had never touched you like this before—it felt intimate and tender and you were a stranger to it.

“Hey.” He had to stoop down towards your ear so you could hear him over the still-blaring music. His breath tickled your neck and his bottom lip brushed the tip of your ear. You couldn’t stop from shivering. “Are you alright?”

No, you weren’t. He was really, really close and your heart was beating dangerously fast again.

“Yeah,” You breathed in reassurance, pushing what you hoped was a convincing smile. “I’m okay. Just tired.”

He didn’t look completely convinced. However, he didn’t push the subject further and you were grateful.

“Alright.” He nodded and it was silent for a split second until you both reached the front door. “You look beautiful in my clothes by the way.”

And then Tom was pushing open the door and there on the porch like he said was a worried Scout. Thankfully, she was way too preoccupied with hurtling questions of “are you okay?” and “what happened?” for her to notice the way your skin was flushed and how you couldn’t quite look anyone in the eye.

The weight of the fingers splayed along the base of your spine disappeared as Scout swept you away from Tom and into her crushing embrace.

“Oh my God!” She shrieked as she hugged you to her, your bundle of clothes and shoes between you digging into your stomach. “You scared the hell out of me. Did you fall in the toilet or something?”

For the first time in what felt like forever, a small snort of a laugh left your throat.

“I’m fine,” You reassured and tangled your digits with hers, tugging her down the porch stairs with you. “And no, I didn’t ‘fall in the toilet.’ I just want to go home and drown myself in the shower.”

“Good. You smell like shit.” Her nose wrinkled. “And please enlighten me on how you ended up in Tom fucking Holland’s bedroom.”

You laughed again and spared a glance over your shoulder.

Tom still stood on the porch, readjusting his backwards hat over his brunette curls. You caught the little smirk on his lips and you swore he winked before Scout was tugging you further up the sidewalk and you were forced to turn back around.

Every inch of your body tingled.

It wasn’t until you stood under the shower head’s chilly spray of water back in your residence hall that you realized you’d left your phone in Tom’s room.

TOM TAGLIST:

@xoxohollands ♡ @outshineallthestars ♡ @pcterparxer ♡ @worldoftom ♡

RETROGRADE ONLY TAGLIST:

@softholand ♡ @sushiinmidnight ♡ @stuckonspidey ♡

54 notes · View notes

waejinyoung · 4 years

Text

Can’t Swim - EP . 8

Can’t Swim 8

word count: 3.2k+

a/n: you might be questioning where I have been for the past couple of months. I have one word to say that should be a good enough answer. College. I’ve been studying none stop and found no time to write the next episode after university started. The posts will no longer be regular so just keep yourselves updated. Hopefully I will have another 2 episodes up between now and the end of the year at least but don’t quote me on that. I hope you enjoy!

I’m deeply sorry for my absence again x

warnings: nothing

EP . 1 , EP . 2 , EP . 3 , EP . 4 , EP . 5 , EP . 6 , EP . 7 , EP . 8 , EP . 9

THIRD PERSON POV

The afternoon continued with Y/N and Jinyoung discussing life and getting to know one another whilst Y/N replied to her emails.

“It’s mind b-boggling how you and J-Jackson may have crossed paths back in 2012…” Y/N had just mentioned how she was training for the London 2012 Olympics to compete for swimming.

“Similar to Jackson, I switched career paths and decided to study architecture. Dad wasn’t the biggest fan until he saw the passion and success I had gained in the industry. He soon came to terms with everything.”

“Wow… do you r-regret it at all?” The clock marked 10:30 pm. You guys had been talking for the past 90 mins, getting to know each other.

“I think I regretted not swimming after deciding to study architecture. I didn’t choose to not compete in the Olympics because I no longer liked swimming so I do regret not continuing although I must say, studying architecture might be the most time consuming degree out there. That’s why later on I decided to apply to become a licensed swimming teacher to undergo lessons. I’d be teaching people how to swim whilst fulfilling my love for swimming.”

“Best of both w-worlds, r-right?”

“Exactly.” Y/N had now placed all her work to aside with her back against the wall, legs crossed enveloped into the conversation.

Some seconds went by and Y/N wanted to know about Jinyoung’s initial dreams.

“What about you? Did you always want to be a singer?”

“Always. I took up d-dance lessons when I was around 15. Then went to a-audition and got in to JYPE. That was when I met J-Jaebeom. We actually d-debuted together as a d-duo group called JJProject to later on d-debut with the r-rest of the g-guys as GOT7. Since t-then they’ve been my f-family rather than just my m-members. I think it’s g-getting to the p-point where I might have spent m-more years of my l-life with them then I did without. Time flies…”

“I could definitely sense the brotherly love you guys all have for each other. So how did becoming an actor happen?”

“I r-requested from the c-company to find roles I could take part in a couple years b-back. First it was small roles in small d-dramas and then being c-casted by more known d-directors to p-play bigger roles. All of that has l-led me to play s-second male lead for ‘When My Love Blooms’.”

“When do the episodes start airing?” Y/N had grown eager about Jinyoung’s talents.

“Hold your h-horses… we haven’t e-even started f-filming yet and won’t be until I r-recover… The original airing d-dates will probably be p-pushed f-further.” Jinyoung’s words drifted into a sudden realisation for his career.

“If only-“ Y/N was about to blame herself again.

“We’ve been through this m-multiple times Y/N. None of this is your f-fault so s-stop blaming yourself for t-things you have no c-control over.”

Y/N had her mouth open ready to retaliate but if she had to be honest… she couldn’t be bothered to fight back considering it was now coming up to 11:00 pm.

“Fine.” Y/N yawned and covered her mouth. Work had been extremely busy today especially with all the news floating around now.

“S-someone’s tired.” Jinyoung eyed Y/N’s tired state and decided to call it a night.

“I still have so much to do. I can’t fall asleep now.”

“C-could you n-not spare an e-early n-night just for t-today?” Y/N recollected her thoughts weighing up if she could possibly sleep early tonight and get all the work done tomorrow.

“I could…”

“Problem s-solved then. Clear up your b-bed and get your pjs on. I d-don’t want to f-face a t-tired Y/N tomorrow m-morning.” Y/N eyed your mean comment and huffed to your orders.

“Yes, sir.”

2 WEEKS LATER

Y/N’s POV

“Miss, Jinyoung has been recovering quicker than expected. He should be perfectly fine to attend the event. If anything unsettling happens you can give me a direct phone call.”

“Thank you so much Doc.” You gave the doctor a large smile and she reciprocated a reassuring smile.

You entered Jinyoung’s room with your outfit for the architecture awards festival along with you.

“Am I allowed to come?” Jinyoung asked as soon as you entered the room. You gave him a nod.

Jinyoung’s voice was more or less back to 100% and his eye had completed healed by the end of last week. There wasn’t much left until being fully recovered. Possibly parting from the hospital quicker than the original 2 months the doctor had estimated.

“I knew I’d get the green light. I even prepared my outfit because I was so sure I’d be able to come.” You hadn’t seen someone so ecstatic for an awards festival.

“As expected… I’m not even surprised. Will you be able to get dressed? Need any of my help?” Jinyoung was still a little instable since he’s been lying in bed for the past 2 weeks. His legs tend to give out for the first 30 mins.

“I think I can manage. I’ll get dressed quickly and then the bathroom is all yours.” You chuckled at his assumption that you’ll take really long in the bathroom for the event.

Jinyoung heads towards the bathroom and you are left there practising a speech you’ve written for all the awards you and your company have been nominated. This isn’t because you knew you were going to win any of them but… the unprofessional scenes if you guys were to win an award and to not have a speech ready daunted you. There was nothing wrong with being prepared.

15 MINUTES LATER

You must say… I don’t think you had ever laid eyes on someone so handsome in your life before. You could swear that this man was carved by God himself.

“How much deeper are you going to fall into my looks?” You hadn’t realised but you had been staring Jinyoung up and down for the past 30 seconds of him leaving the bathroom. Hair all styled. The suit was literally made for him. His cute bow tie was a little wonky leading you to let out a chuckle.

“What?” Jinyoung’s face turned serious thinking something was wrong with how he looked.

“Your bowtie is wonky.” You stood up from your seat and reached out to fix his bowtie. Your eyes were fixated in straightening the bowtie and all Jinyoung could do was analyse your face and how focussed you were.

“There you go. Looks better now.” You lightly let go off the tie and looked up at Jinyoung who was already staring right back at you. Those bambi eyes were going to be the death of you.

“Thank you. Now go and get yourself ready.” He pinched your nose and then you entered the bathroom with your dress, makeup bag and accessories.

20 MINUTES LATER

“Jinyoung~~” You called out for Jinyoung. You were done with everything but couldn’t reach the zipper on the back of your dress. You had been procrastinating on what to do and just gave up. There’s no way you could zip the dress up alone.

“Yes, Y/N. Is everything alright?” You could hear his footsteps come closer to the bathroom door.

“In a bit of sticky situation… could I ask you to do a favour?”

“Sure, what is it?” You went ahead and unlocked the door for him. He took a step back and couldn’t contain the sight in front of him. You were in a red bandeau strapless dress which had a structured skirt that was shorter at the front and longer at the back with. A very slight trail. Unsurprisingly your makeup was the bare minimum and you had left your natural hair out. His mouth was agape as you stepped out of the bathroom.

“How much longer are you going to stare for Mr Park?” He had been in the same awe you was when he had stepped out of the bathroom earlier on.

“Yes…right… the favour?” His soul re-entered his body trying to compose himself. You could only smile on the effect you had on the prince himself.

“I can’t reach my zipper, could you zip up the back of my dress for me?” You saw his cheeks blush a light pink below the thin layer of bb cream he had on. Without the zip done neither of you were going anywhere so he had to do it.

He wasn’t able to give a verbal response and just nodded. You turned around to have your back facing Jinyoung. He moved your hair to aside exposing half of your back to him. He was blushing so hard right now and was happy to have you facing away from him even though in a matter of seconds you’d be facing him seeing the shades of red planted on his cheeks. Jinyoung gently placed one hand on the zipper and the other hand on your back holding the fabric of your dress still. His fingers grazed your skin and they were a little cold leading you to jolt a little by the surprising cool touch. He notices.

“Did I hurt you?” His voice was a little worried. The slightest worrying reaction you make, and he’s so concerned. He’s too sweet.

“Nope, your hands are just a little cold that’s all.” You say whilst you chuckle.

He apologises with his soothing voice and zips up the dress, letting out a quiet done when finished.

You turn back round and thank him for his kind gesture. You also noticed the flush of his cheeks. He’s so cute, you thought. You quickly put your heels on and left Jinyoung’s patient room and entered the hall of the hospital. Expectedly, you guys received some stares and some whistles by the old women sitting outside their patient rooms. The event manager had organised a limousine to pick up each nominee for the awards hence why there was a lovely jet black limousine parked at the entrance of the hospital. The driver spotted you two and guided you the way and kept the door open for you two to enter the fancy vehicle. He ran back to the wheel and started driving towards the venue.

“Anything I need to know beforehand? Who should I present myself as?” Jinyoung had started with the questions during the car drive.

“Who’d you like to present yourself as Jinyoung?” You wanted to fish out his intentions from him.

“Preferably your boyfriend in order to stop those punks from hitting on you but I’d never want to force you into a relationship with me…” He side eyed you as he kept looking out the window. You so wanted him to be your boyfriend.

“Logical. Agreed. If anyone asks, you’re my boyfriend.”

“What an honour.” You slap his thigh due to his sarcastic tone.

“Whatttt? I’m serious. I’m going to be the boyfriend of an amazingly talented architect who’s bound to receive an award tonight. It’s a genuine privilege.” You could only look at him in awe as he described the so called ‘privilege’ he was taking part of.

“If you say so…”

The humming noise from the motor of the limousine was really calming but Jinyoung broke the silence once again.

“Are you nervous?” His tone was much deeper and serious compared to how he was a second ago.

“A little. These awards happen once a year and we’ve progressed so much as a company but so has everyone else in the industry. It’s hard to tell if we’ll be receiving the major validation from the institute. With or without the award tonight I’m so pleased with my company, but it would be nice to get a recognisable achievement for all our hard work.” Jinyoung listened to you as you let out your insecurities for the upcoming night.

“In the little amount of time I’ve met you, I think you’re the only person who deserves all the awards you’ve been nominated for this year. No one can change my thoughts and it’s going to be a pleasure to witness your achievement first hand. I can’t wait.” He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles trying to calm your nerves down. It was going to be a long night.

30 MINUTES LATER

Your limousine had rocked up to the red carpet laid out on the floor outside of the venue of the awards. You took a deep breath as the driver ran around to Jinyoung’s side of the limousine to let him out. Jinyoung agreed to open your door for you so he exited the vehicle first. Like he had planned, he went around to your side and opened the door for you to step out. The cameras started capturing every single moment as you wrapped your arm around Jinyoungs, and he gave you a reassuring nod. You gave him a smile and the two of you walked towards the entrance of the building slowly as you waved to the cameras and press greeting the two of you. The cameras were close to blinding, but you pulled through until reaching the entrance where the bodyguard escorted the two of you to your spaces in the main hall.

The building was full of white and gold decorations. You could definitely tell that the theme was highly influenced by Greek culture. The budget of the awards keep growing as the number of sponsors increase. The bodyguard escorted you to the table that Beck was already sat at with his fiancé. Beck realised your presence as well as Jinyoung. He stood up to give you a hug and shook Jinyoung’s hand. Beck’s fiancé shook both of your hands too and took your seats.

“The famous Mr Park. It’s nice to meet you in person. I’m Beck, the other shareholder.” Beck gave Jinyoung a warm smile.

“It’s nice to meet you to Beck. It seems like you already know of my name, but I’ll reiterate for the norm. My name is Park Jinyoung, you can call me just Jinyoung.” You let out a scoff because of how formal Jinyoung was being with Beck.

“He’s younger than you so you can ignore the formalities.” You said to Jinyoung and then Beck and him opened the conversation about age and their Chinese zodiac signs.

The evening began at 7:30 pm with the award winners due to be announced at 9:00 pm. Until then there was butterflies in your stomach ready to be set free any minute now.

Jinyoung came closer to your ear and whispered, “Loosen up a little. There’s no need to be this tense. Here hold my hand.”

Jinyoung offered his hand and you took it immediately as he gestured his open palm. Your hands were tiny compared to his manly hands. They encompassed all your digits giving you’re a sigh of relief because of the security they exerted. You let out a large sigh and continued with the discussions on your table with the new clients that were interested in your company. Having Jinyoung at the event really helped scare away the useless men who would only be interested in your physique and nothing more. His presence filtered out all the nonsense that would usually be taking place at the table.

The clock finally struck 9:00 pm and everyone went back to their designated seats in order for the awards to be presented. The event holder went through all the minor rookie awards to then move onto the company categories.

“Here are the nominees for Best Project of the Year.” The event holder signalled to the larger screen behind him as the nominees including your company are mentioned in no specific order.

“I was personally really fond of this project myself too. The meaning behind the design and the immense detail put into the façade really makes me excited for the future of this company. I’ll stop blabbing on and open the envelope.” You looked at Beck and then back at Jinyoung who was really eager to know the result.

“The award for Best Project of the Year goes to…” The event holder lifts the flap of the envelope and takes out the white sheet of paper inside. You hold your breath waiting for the result to be spoken.

“The Chamberlain project, designed and constructed by Chevrel Architects.” The whole community around your table started roaring and cheering for you and Beck to claim the award. That was one award written down in the books for Chevrel Architects, a company you and Beck had started years back. You and Beck had decided that if this award was given to you guys then he’d give the speech for it. Beck was the reason for the Chamberlain project happening and hands down you could state it was because of him the project turned out well. You, Jinyoung and everyone else in the hall stood up clapping as Beck walked up to the stage and shook hands with the event holder along with receiving the award. He then walked up to the mic and started his speech.

“I’d like to first start off with a large thank you to everyone at Chevrel Architects. The amount of hard work that was put into the Chamberlain project is indescribable, without everyone’s help it wouldn’t have been possible to achieve such a great outcome. I’d like to also thank Y/N for coming on this journey with me and trusting in me when I said that this company will create its own legacy. This is only the beginning…” Beck continued to thank more or less everyone he knew and came to an end with another roaring applause by everyone.

He jogged back to your table and you admired the award he placed on the table. You felt Jinyoung squeeze your hand in encouragement for you to realise how much you guys are capable of although he still knew you were a little iffy because the individual architect awards hadn’t been announced yet. You couldn’t help but smile at the gleaming object right before your eyes. Having received this award you doubted that another award would be given to someone of the same company.

Minutes went by and the event holder had reached the most awaited award of the night. Architect of the Year. You were surprised that you hadn’t left to use the restroom to throw up all this anxiety already. You were so ready to go home and relax. You wanted your normal heart rate back. You looked at Jinyoung and he gave you a look that melted your heart in seconds. He started massaging your knuckles with his thumb again and you could feel your body ease into his touch. The event holder for the last time of the night directs our attention to the screen for the listing of the nominees. Beck unfortunately wasn’t nominated so he was rooting for you to win the award.

“I know for many of you this is probably the most important part of the night. I’d like to first mention that to be able to be nominated for this award is ana achievement in itself so, you architects should all be proud of yourselves. It was a very hard decision that the committee made but we were able to make a decision. The award for Architect of the Year goes to…”

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I think it was mean of me to have ended this episode here, but it is 2:30 am right now as I write this episode. I hope you guys liked this episode. I shall be back somewhat soon so make sure to come back to check if an episode has been uploaded. Like always let me know your opinions on the story line and check out the other episodes if you haven’t. It would be nice to get some feedback :)

See you next time

writer-nim x

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thegeekyblondegirlwholovesstars · 4 years

Text

Coming Home Part Nine

JJ x Reader

Warnings: There will be mentions of the sexual assault from the previous episodes. Other than that, nothing that the show doesn’t cover: alcohol and physical fights, etc.

Hey guys! I’m so sorry I’ve been MIA lately. Not even going to lie I have been procrastinating writing part nine because I have SO much going on atm. Basically I’m leaving to go to gymnastics camp for three weeks and I’ve been trying to get a bunch of little things done and see all my friends before I leave. I was planning on getting this out last Sunday but my laptop fell off my bed and broke lol. Alas now I have a new one and it is super nice I’m so thankful for my Dad (this is the laptop I’m going to be using for college ahh it’s so exciting). Also I’m sorry this is a little shorter than normal but it felt organic for where the story is going. Anyways, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :) and thank you for reading I hope you enjoy!!💖

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Your aunt and uncle looked between the two of you confused.

“You know how he is babe?” JJ let out a half laugh half sob.

You walked over to JJ and carefully embraced him. JJ dropped his bag before wrapping his arms around you and crying into your shoulder.

“I know babe I do.”

Once JJ’s breathing steadied slightly you picked up his bag and gave your aunt and uncle a look saying I’ll explain in the morning, before taking him upstairs and into the bathroom. You knew all too well what his father was capable of. You had been there when Luke first started hitting his son. Your mom and dad had taken JJ in on multiple occasions and every time JJ came to you battered and bruised, you helped him clean up and did everything in your power to make him smile. As you indicated for JJ to hop up onto the counter you tried to push away the thoughts of what his father must have done during those five years you were away, and all the pain JJ had endured.

JJ sat on the counter in the bathroom at the top of the stairs, his head was bowed and he licked tears away from his lips as they streamed down his face. You bent over and took out the clean clothes from his bag and set them next to him on the counter. “I’ll be right back J.” You brought his things into the hallway and closed the door behind you. Just when you thought you didn’t have anymore tears left in you, they began to spill down your cheeks again. Opening the door to your room you were met with questioning looks from the pogues but they understood once they saw you place JJ’s bag next to your dresser and go into your bathroom and retrieve the first aid kit. You glanced back at John B, looking for the slightest bit of comfort in his gaze, he nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom. Looking away from him you walked back out the door and into the bathroom.

As you entered JJ immediately looked into your eyes, his ocean eyes were red and puffy, identical to yours. You dropped the first aid kit on the counter and placed your hands on either side of his bruised face, placing a soft kiss on his cut lip. When you pulled away and reached for the first aid kit he wrapped his arms around your waist, neither of you had said a thing. You knew better than to ask him what happened. Taking out the gauze and alcohol you began to tend to the cuts on his face and lip, gently patting the gauze over them to clean the wounds. He winced slightly at the feeling of the alcohol on his broken skin. Whenever he did this you replaced the gauze with a tender kiss. It was only when you moved to unbutton his shirt and assess the damage that lied underneath it that JJ spoke, as you knew he would.

“When I got home he wasn’t there. I was stuffing a bunch of my clothes into my bag when I heard the door slam.” He gulped and pulled your small hands away from the buttons on his shirt. He looked into your eyes before continuing, “I borrowed some money from him for tonight so I could, you know, get all dressed up and get you flowers. I was going to pay it back this weekend.” JJ’s head fell forward onto your shoulder as he started crying again and you ran your fingers through his hair. “He was not happy. You know how he gets. Going down the old reliable path of calling me a worthless piece of shit and telling me I’m the reason my mom left.” He sat up and wiped his face, shaking his body in attempts to rid himself of the thought. “I think you know what happened next.”

You looked up at him and nodded. “JJ, Bubs. You are not worthless. You are not the reason that your mom left. You are worth so much more than you give yourself credit for. Don’t let that piece of shit get it into your head that you are anything less than the wonderful person, friend, and boyfriend that you are. Look at the way the pogues love you, the way my parents and Big John loved you, the way my aunt and uncle love you, the way I love you.” When you began to unbutton his shirt again JJ pulled you into a passionate kiss. Tears streaming down both of your faces. You both pulled away breathless.

“I love you too Bug.” JJ uttered unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way, revealing a large bruise and cut on his ribs.

Your hand immediately flew to it and ran over it lightly. You looked up at him and there was a silent understanding that neither of you wanted to talk about this for the rest of the night. You stepped out from between his legs to retrieve a washcloth and wet it with warm water. Resuming your previous position, JJ placed his hands on your hips and a small smirk grew on his face. As you carefully dragged the warm cloth over his cut, cleaning the blood, he said, “I’ve got to admit. You have always done a good job of cleaning me up and making me feel better but the kissing certainly helps even more.”

You chuckled placing a band aid over the cut. “Well I’m glad I can be of good service Blondie.” You stepped away from him and allowed him to get down and put on a clean shirt and pj shorts while you packed up the first aid kit and tossed the bloody gauze into the trash and the washcloth in the sink.

Before you exited the bathroom you wrapped him into a tight hug and took in the scent of his clean clothes.

“Thank you for everything tonight.” You looked up at him, your chin on his chest and a small smile on your face. “I couldn’t have made it through that without you.”

“Always Bug.” JJ planted a quick kiss on your lips, “Lets go to bed. It’s been a long night.”

Taking JJ’s hand you lead him out of the bathroom and down the hall to your room. You open the door to find everyone else already asleep. John B and Sarah are curled up together beside your bed while Pope and Kie are snuggled up at the foot of your bed. A smile flashes across your face at the sight of everyone so peaceful following the emotional rollercoaster of a night that each of you had. Carefully stepping over Sarah’s legs you collapse onto your bed and JJ crawls in next to you. Cuddling up next to each other, JJ wraps his arms around you, seeking the comfort that you both desperately need and you lay your head on his chest. For the first time all night you are fully relaxed and you doze off listening to the sound of JJ’s heartbeat.

Planting a final kiss on your forehead JJ whispers, “See you in the mornin’ sun my love.” And drifts into his own peaceful sleep, glad to know that you are there safe in his arms.

The next morning you are woken up to a hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling you off your bed onto the floor. You let out a squeal as your heart beats in your throat for a brief moment until you hear Pope say wistfully, “CUDDLE PUDDLE.”

You find yourself wrapped in Pope’s sloppily hug as you lay across your four friends on the floor. Kie jokingly smacks your ass, prompting a hearty belly laugh. JJ sat bolt upright the moment he felt you leave from beside him and heard your scream. As he realized what was going on he facepalmed and began to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

“It’s way too early for this Pope” he remarks with a soft chuckle as he plops down on top of everyone and gives John B a forehead kiss. John B returns the affection and jokingly whispers, “Baaabe I thought we were keeping this a secret.” JJ lands a soft punch to John B’s side and pulls you into him as everyone laughs. Now everyone is lying on their backs on the floor staring at the ceiling. Sarah breaks the silence.

“Okay I don’t know about you guys but I’m starved.”

Kie springs up and looks at you, “Banana pancakes!!!?”

You nod and shift to a sitting position, prompting JJ to put his arms around your hips like a seatbelt and lay his head next to Pope’s. Sarah wastes no time getting up and pulling you to your feet practically dragging JJ across the floor.

“You guys have no idea these pancakes are heavenly.”

“I’m sure they are but a simple JJ could you let go of your girlfriend would have worked.” JJ states snidely and shoots a sarcastic look in Sarah’s direction.

“But why would we use words right?” John B shrugs and stands before pulling JJ and Pope to their feet.

You all parade downstairs in a good mood and a sense of normalcy lingers in the air throughout breakfast.

Pope pushes his plate away from him and leans back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head.

“Wow. That was.” he huffs.

“Phenomenal.” John B finishes his fourth pancake.

JJ lets out a muffled “Yeah.” his mouth full with what is at least his sixth pancake. You look over at them and chuckle as the girls place their dishes in the sink and you begin to clean up the kitchen.

“Why thank you, I’m glad you guys liked them.” you bow into an exaggerated curtsy still giggling.

Suddenly your door opens and you hear the familiar footsteps of your aunt and uncle coming toward the kitchen and someone else following them. Your uncle emerges and his face is hard but it softened slightly at the sight of the six of you smiling. After your uncle your aunt emerges followed by Ward, Rose, Shoop, and the unmistakable figure of Rafe. The metal bowl and whisk you were holding clatters to the floor at the sight of his slicked back hair. The pleasant lethargic feeling that filled the room previously evaporated immediately as JJ, John B, and Pope spring to their feet and surround you. Your uncle motions for the boys to relax but they don't even flinch, forming a rigid barrier between you and Rafe.

Your uncle speaks first, “Everyone is just here to talk and settle a few things regarding the restraining order.” He turns his gaze directly to JJ, “There is no need to be on high alert, this is all a safety precaution to begin with.”

JJ gives your uncle a small nod and your aunt steps forward, interlocking her arm with your uncle’s. “Let’s all take a seat in the living room.”

Pope bends down to pick up the bowl and whisk that you had dropped while Sarah moves to give her father a hug and say good morning. Kie and John B follow your aunt and uncle to the couch as JJ places his hand on the small of your back before pulling you in for a hug and glaring at Rafe.

Once everyone is seated, you speak first, “Okay so what needs my approval exactly?”

Ward decided to pipe up due to the visible amount of stress your aunt and uncle were under. “It’s just some details, for starters how far away do you want Rafe to be at all times.”

“Well three hundred feet is the norm right?”

Rose nodded. “Yes but we can extend it if you’d like.”

“It’s a small island so I don’t know if it could realistically be any further.”

John B and Kie rubbed your back in support of your decision but JJ looked as though he would like Rafe to be on the opposite side of the island from you at all times.

Shoop took note of your decision, “Okay y/n, now I just need you to define the terms of peace and the Camerons can be on their way.”

“Terms of peace?” JJ questioned Shoop.

He opened his mouth but Pope answered JJ’s question before Shoop could, “Like what would make y/n anxious. In relation to the people around her or any mutual friends.”

JJ nodded as you spoke. “I don’t want Rafe, Kelce, or Topper bothering me or any of the pogues.”

Kie chimed in, “I don’t know if this is my place but after what I saw that night I don’t feel comfortable having Rafe at the Wreck. At least not during my shifts.”

“No don’t worry Kiarra, that is totally reasonable.” Rose offered Kie a sweet smile.

“Honestly that’s all I can think of, other than the normal terms of a restraining order.” You leaned back into JJ’s arm and he began playing with your hair.

“Okay yeah, we’ll be heading out then. I’m genuinely so sorry about everything that happened, and that we had to bring Rafe along today. It was purely for legal reasons. We care about you so much sweetheart. I hope you know that.” Ward stood and offered his hand to Rose and looked at you.

You offered him a small nod as your aunt ushered the Cameron’s from your house.

“That was pretty painless” Sarah tried to shed some light on the situation.

“Kinda” Pope huffed.

Your uncle was sitting across from you leaning forward with his head resting on his hands.

“Kiara, John B, Sarah, Pope. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’m sorry but there is something Patty and I need to discuss with y/n, JJ, and the Sheriff.”

If anyone ever needs anything, wants to give me feedback, or just wants to chat about fandoms please message me and let’s be friends:))

@tangledinsparkles @hopelesswritingxd @im-a-stranger-thing @jenahbell @annedub @hmspxgue @harrysbbby @spn-pogues @nxtrogers @whoeverineedtobe @jjmaybby @thegreatestofheck @maybebanks @k-k0129 @kamri-janae123 @aliensknewmyblogs @rudyypankow @pm-my-hubbies @beatement-l @ilovejjmaybank @runway-to-my-aid @pogxe @themagicdragon1234 @pete-bowen @jjtheangel @thoughtsofthestars @alexa-playafricabytoto @thatfangirl42

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blossom862 · 5 years

Text

Mixed Match Challenge Part 2

Warning(s): Fluff, mentions of drugs, SMUT!

Note: This is my first time writing smut, so please be gentle.

Word count: 3,682k

Y/W/N: Your Wrestling Name

Alofa: Love

Tag list for this series: @balorollinszayn @calwitch

*** If you are under 18, please do not read this.****

After confessing your feelings to Roman, you guys decided to go out on a date since you both had the remaining week off. During the date, you guys got the chance to get to know each other better and immediately connected. Roman told you that he liked you and he wanted to get to know you more. He also told you that his kids meant the world to him and that he needed to know that you were okay with it.

“Y/N, I just want to know that you are okay with it. My kids are everything to me and the person that chooses to be by my side needs to know that. I know that you don’t have any and that maybe you don’t feel comfortable dating a man that already have children, but I j-“ before he had the chance to proceed with the mini-speech of his, you took his hand onto yours and looked at him with adoration in your eyes.

“Listen, I don’t care if you have kids or that you were married once. I want to be a part of your life. Hell! I want to meet them one day and tell them how amazing their father is.” You told him with a laughed and a quick wink.

“ Where had you’ve been all this time?” And with that said he learned to give you a quick peck on your lips.

After the first date, he took you to many other ones. To the park, to museums, to clubs, and even to your favorite restaurants. He treated you like a princess (and he still treats you like one). Later on, during a live event, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You couldn’t contain your excitement and jumped into his arms while placing multiples kisses all around his handsome face.

“Finally! I thought you never asked.”

All the WWE roster and even the fans know that you guys are dating, after that kiss you gave him after the Mixed Match Challenge, they knew that you guys were going to be an item after that. And they were not wrong.

The Raw roster was currently getting ready for their European tour but during the meantime, Stephanie and Hunter had given everybody a little break. All the wrestlers were busy making their luggage and saying goodbye to their loved ones since they knew they were gonna be gone for at least another 2 months. You were glad to have your boyfriend with you during the tour. He means the world to you and you to him.

You were currently packing and cleaning up your messy room since you barely have time to clean it. Who can judge you? You are always on the road and half the year you are either facing a new opponent or doing interviews.

“You know, I never thought that Y/W/N was such a messy person outside the ring.”

You didn’t notice when Roman approached you and wrapped his strong arms around your curvy waist. You were so consumed by your thoughts that you couldn’t acknowledge his presence, till now.

Leaning back, you felt his lips against your neck. He was such a lovable a passionate lover. The big dog knew your body better than you did, and that was a surprise. No, you guys haven’t slept together yet, but you guys had done other things other than kissing. You could say he knows what to do with that mouth of his.

“Hmmm, baby. Don’t start something that you can’t continue. You know we need to make sure we have everything we need for this upcoming trip. You know how much I hate procrastination.” You murmured to him while giving him a tender kiss. Gently, he grabbed your chin and proceed to raise your head for you to admire his brown eyes while he spoke.

“Don’t challenge me, sweetheart. Just because we haven’t slept together doesn’t mean I can’t make you see stars. I know your principles and you know mines. I won’t make you do anything that you don’t want. So honey, get your pretty little butt moving and finish packing and when you finish, I’ll guarantee you I’m giving you the best orgasm of your life and you can believe that.” With that said, he planted a fierce but loving kiss on your plump and red lips.

Mesmerized by the sudden gesture, you wrapped your left arm around his neck while pressing your lower back against his. Deepening the kiss, he took the opportunity to turn you around to have your face to face. Both of you were so into the moment that you guys didn’t realize that someone was in the room as well.

“Ugh really? Can’t you guys don’t do that here?” Grounded a masculine voice near the door of your room.

Putting your hands on Roman's chest, you gently pushed him away and disconnected your lips from his.

Clearing his throat, Roman looked at the individual that had entered the room without permission ready to argue.

“Listen, man, haven’t you heard of privacy? Or perhaps knocking?” Roman said while whipping his mouth with his thumb.

“Hey! You guys knew I was here. Next time I’m staying at the hotel.” And with that said, Seth turned around and headed out of the room not before closing the door.

Jesus! If Seth didn’t interrupt the two of you, you didn’t know if you were gonna stop yourself from jumping and riding him like a madwoman.

It is not that you were a virgin or anything, but you wanted to wait a little longer before you guys take that big step in the relationship. Before Roman, you were involved with another wrestler. He always was there for you, he supported you and encourage you to be better in everything you set your mind to. Everything was going amazing for the both of you, the WWE universe knew that you guys were together and you were the “IT” couple long before Maryse and The Miz were.

Sadly, after being involved with each other for so long, you discovered that he was cheating on you with one of the WWE interviewers. After the scandalous breakup, he decided to publish online some intimate photos that you had sent to him when you guys were dating. You were devasted in such a way that you almost turned to drugs. If it wasn’t for Seth and your brother, you didn’t know if you were able to go through it. After that, you swear to never send pics or be intimate with someone else after getting to know the person and had at least waited a year.

You talked to Roman about it and to your surprise, he took it well.

“Baby girl, I’m not going to pressure you to do something you don’t want to do. If you want to wait a year or even two, I would wait as long as you want. That doesn’t take the fact that I want to be with you. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to make love to you as soon as possible, but if you are not ready, then we won’t. I’ll wait as long as I have to because I like you.”

Roman was a true gentleman and you were lucky to have him in your life.

“Well, I think that is my clue to finish packing. Oh god, who I am lying to? I want you so bad it physically and mentally hurts.” You growled while giving him a sad smile. You were so desperate to be in his arms and give yourself to the man standing next to you.

Taking a couple of steps towards you, Roman tugged a curl behind your ear while kissing the top of your nose. Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your small arms around his waist while bitting your lower lip.

“Oh, baby girl you don’t have any idea how much I’m trying to control myself. Is impossible to not touch you whenever you are near. When I’m with you, I feel like a horny teenager again.” He spoke while laughing and kissing your shoulder.

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You were currently putting your wrestling gear and preparing yourself for your match against Becky Lynch. After your long-time rivalry with Sasha Banks, Stephanie decided to give you a shot to become the next WWE Raw Women Champion. You were so excited about the opportunity and it didn't matter that you were facing Seth’s Rollins girlfriend. Every single person who comes to the WWE has one goal in mind, and that is to become Champion.

“Baby girl, are you ready to kick some ass?” Shouted Roman while entering the private dressing room that you both shared.

After announcing that you guys were partners, Hunter decided to give you guys a separate and private dressing room. He told you that the majority of the couples had their own. Roman had a smirk the entire time Hunter was talking to the both of you.

Lacing your knee-length boots, you proceed to answer his previous question with a happy “hell yeah” and with a small giggle.

Seating down in the bench that was located next to you, he placed his left hand in your left butt-cheek without caring.

“I cannot wait to see you held that title in your hands. You deserve that title opportunity.” He whispered against your ear. Giving you a small slap in your behind. He took your hand in his and carefully gave you a long kiss on your lips.

Following his lead, you deepen the kiss while caressing his long and glamorous mane. Sliding one of your hands under his shirt, you proceeded to caress his chest. Taking the hint, he took his shirt off and trowed it behind his back.

“Hmm, you are so damn handsome” you whispered against his chest. You deposited some small pecks against his chest while looking at him with your big Y/E/C. He places his hand against your rebel curls and tugged gently.

“Y/N, alofa. I’m so hard right now.” He spoke while patting softly.

Giving him a small smirk, you sensually kneed in front of him. Slowly, you started to run your hands all over his enormous and manly thighs. You were obsessed with the man’s thighs. Just the thought of having your pussy against his thighs is enough to make you wet.

Looking at him through your long eyelashes, you noticed how excited Roman was getting. Unzipping his dark pants and pulling them down, you started to careless him through his Calvin Klein boxers.

“Hmm, Y/N. If you keep doing that I’m not going to last much longer. Baby please, do something.” Protested the big dog while desperately shoving his clothe member right in your face. Giggling, you decided that it was time to stop playing games and take action. After giving his member a small peck, which made Roman moaned, you release him from his underwear and started to massage him. Gently but with a firm grip, you started to pump his dick.

“Oh, g-god ba-by girl. Yes, just like t-that.” Whispered Roman while throwing his head back.

After making sure he was hard as a rock, you decided to take the next step and put your mouth to great use. Taking his tip in your mouth, you started to suck him softly. Moans were all you could hear all around the dressing room. Stroking and bobbling his member as fast as you could, you were determined to make him cum.

You were so turned on that you started to touch yourself. Pulling down your tight wrestling shorts, you slid your unoccupied hand under your panties. Teasing your clit with your middle finger, you started to moan against his dick.

You tried to take him all the way, but the man was so damn big that you had to wrap and pump your fingers on the parts that your mouth could not take.

“Oh shit, Y-y/N, I’m gonna........ FUCK” his head tilted back and his mouth agape when he released into your mouth. Small moans were coming out of your plump lips

Watching him come undo before you was enough to make you start moaning. Rapidly, you started to touch your clit and inserted two fingers in order to make yourself cum. You felt two big hands caressing your curly hair.

“Stop baby girl. I want to be the one to make you cum.” The strong man took your busy hand in his and slowly started to suck on your dripping fingers. After a couple of minutes of sucking and tasting your nectar, he releases your fingers with a loud and sensual “pop”.

A small “fuck, you taste so good.” came out of his mouth.

You couldn’t take it anymore and started to take off your top. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you position yourself to ride him as fast as you could. Tonight was the night that you would let yourself lose. You needed him and you were gonna take some action.

“Wait, baby. Are you sure you want our first time to be like this? Don’t you want to wait for a little more ?” Asked Roman while pulling you gently away from him to look at you in the eyes.

You could see that he was nervous but at the same time, he was filled with lust. You couldn’t judge him, he was a man after all.

“I’ve never been so sure in my life. I want you and I want you right now. Make me cry, daddy.” That was the key that helped you release the big dog. Taking you in his huge arms, he turned you over and made you stand in front of him with your back towards him. He positions you in a way that had you stretch for him. Both of your hands were against the lookers, one of your legs was on top of the bench, and your ass was press against his lower abdomen.

You felt his hand caressing your lower back with such love and determination to make you feel good.

You turned your head around to see what was taking him so long. You were desperate to be close to him. You were going to protests but before you could even say anything, he pulled your shorts down and without any words he slowly but gently stated to enter you.

“Ooh.... y-yes. Just like that baby.” You moaned while making eye contact with Roman. You had never felt this kind of pleasure before. Yes, you had sex with your previous partner, but it was nothing compared to this.

With each passing minute, he started to pick up his speed and before you know it he was making you see stars.

“Yes... omg yes. Ugh.....pull my hair, Ro. Use me, destroy me.” You shouted while wrapping your hands on his neck.

Instead of getting a reply back, he took your chin in his hand and gave you a desperate but passionate kiss. It took you a minute to identify the sudden pressure in your lower abdomen. You were about to cum any minute now. Pulling away from the kiss, you looked at him in the eyes before telling him that you were about to come.

“Ugh, n-not yet. I-I want to cum with you. T-together. Let’s cum together Y/N.”

“I’m coming.... fuck I’m coming so hard.” You told him while touching and giving your breast the attention they craved.

“Oh fuck, yes. Touch yourself, baby. Ugh, I’m coming soon.” And with that said, you both orgasm together.

“Oh FUCK! ROOOO.”

You only heard him let out a loud groan before pulling out of you and before you could register what was happening, you felt his cum in your ass cheeks.

“Jesus, your low key makes me feel like I’m in my twenties again. What did you do to me woman?”

Letting out a tired laugh, you gave him one last kiss before giving him a loving hug.

“I love you so much, Roman.”

“I love you too sweetheart. You don’t know how much I love you.”

——————————

“Weighting Y/W pounds, accompanied by Roman Reigns, from Y/C. Y/W/N!”

The cameraman gave you the signal for you to get out to the main arena.

Roman was holding your hand while waving to the crowd. You couldn't have asked for more support than the one you were receiving at that moment. Your fans we're going insane plus your boyfriend was being so supportive.

Once settling in the ring, you waited for your opponent with your favorite Samoan next to you.

”Relax baby girl, you are gonna be just fine. Take a deep breath.” whispered Roman while caressing your delicate face.

Whoa

Hey!Hey!hey

”And her opponent, from Dublin, Ireland. Accompany by the Architect, she is the Raw Women's Champion, The Man”

With great determination, Becky walks down towards the ring with a serious look on her face. If looks could kill you'll be dead already by the look she gave you once in the ring.

Seth and Roman were both looking intensely at each other while supporting their girlfriends which were about to face each other for the Championship.

Becky took several steps toward you and held her Women's Championship high in the air. Your noses we're touching and if it wasn't for Roman that gave you a quick tug you probably would have started the fight right away.

”This fight is for the Raw Women's Championship. The challenger, from Y/H/T, Y/N!” shouted Jojo with a big smile on her face.

You turned around and gave the crowd a big wink while doing your signature pose in which Becky rolled her eyes.

”The defender, she is the Raw Women's Champion, Becky Lynch.” with that said she gave you a challenging look and made her way to the robes in which she raised the championship hire.

”I’m your damn Champion!” she shouted to the loud crowd.

Once she made her way to her corner, Roman gave you a quick peck on the lips and made his way down to the ring not before giving Seth a ”you better not get involved” look.

Once the bell ring, Becky took you from your curls and gave you a hard punch in your abdomen. It took you a minute to recover from it, but once you were capable of acknowledging your surroundings, you pushed yourself up.

The woman was laughing at you while looking at you with pity in his malicious eyes.

“AWWWWW, look at her. She thinks she the best of the best because she dating “The Big Dog”. She shouted at you while approaching you.

She thought that she had the upper hand, but before she could throw another punch at you, you decided to do something crazy that could help you win for sure. You wanted to finish as soon as possible and take the Raw Women’s Champion home with you.

Taking her by surprise, you performed one of her moves, “the Exploder Suplex” and later on you played dirty and performed her signature move “ Dis-arm-her”.

The crowded was going insane and Seth tried to distract the referee by climbing over the ropes, but Roman took him by his shirt and performed a DDT to him.

“Come on BECKY!!!! Tappppp. Your streak is over. I’m the next champion.” You screamed at him with great fury.

“AGH!!!” she protested but the pain was too much and even someone like The Man could not handle it.

Without any words, she gave you the nastiest glance and proceed to rapidly tap.

With that said, the announcer announced the victory while the referee took you by the shoulders in order to separate you from the Irish woman.

“The winner of this match and the NEW RAW WOMEN’S Championship, Y/W/N!”

Giving you the title, the referee abandoned the ring while Roman climbed over the ring.

“I’m so proud of you baby!” He told you while wrapping his arms around you.

You couldn’t be so proud of your accomplishment.

“How do you feel right now?” Asked Jojo while resting her left arm on your shoulders. She was one of your closes friends in the company. You could see how proud she was of you for winning the Raw Women’s Championship.

Trying to stop your patting, you looked up from the title to her.

“Well Jo, you know how hard I’ve been working to have this opportunity. Since I was a little girl I always had a vision of not only becoming champion but also inspire people to achieve their dreams. So I’m standing right here and I’m looking at every single one of this amazing crowd here tonight and I’m filled with so much happiness right now. This year had been filled with so many blessings and positive things that had changed my life for the better. I started dating this amazing and handsome as hell man standing next to me. And now, I’m the new Raw Women’s Champion. What else can I wish for?” When you said that, the crowd started to cheer.

Roman wrapped his arms around you while giving you a delicate kiss in your head.

“Y/W/N, I gotta say, I’ve never seen you this happy before. I’m so happy that you had found the right person for you. Before letting you go celebrate tonight’s victory with your boo, I had to say that you’ve had inspired so many people through your journey here in the WWE. As a friend and as a woman myself, from behalf of all of the women here present, I’m thanking you for demonstrating how far women had come in the wrestling business. We love you and I couldn’t have been more proud of you love.”

All around you all you could hear from the crowd was a chorus of “You deserve it!” And “Who's the Man now?”

“That’s right! My baby girl is the NEW Women’s Champion and I couldn't be so proud.” With that said, he wrapped his strong arms around you and gave you an intense kiss.

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WOOOOWWWW!!! That was intense as hell!! I gotta said it took me a while to finish this because I’ve been having some writer’s block. Anyway, like I always said, I apologize for any grammar errors and I hope you guys liked the final part of this short-short story. Also, my ask is always open and ready to write some new imagines.

*This story is mine, I don’t give permission to post it on another social media. I spend a lot of time on it.

#roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader #mixed match challenge #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #seth rollins x reader #seth rollins imagine #WWE #becky lynch x reader #becky lynch

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