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nereidprinc3ss · 1 year ago

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do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

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18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him.

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye.

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign.

You look at it.

And then you set your phone down.

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness.

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside.

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes.

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment.

He looks good. Almost too good.

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek.

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head.

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him.

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully.

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.”

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek.

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best.

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body.

You cover his hand with your own.

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion.

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies.

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks.

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense.

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this.

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy.

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel.

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm.

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him.

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you.

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly.

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds.

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no.

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful.

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly.

“Yes, please.”

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting.

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine.

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it.

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for.

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings.

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present.

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing.

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster.

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem.

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest.

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place.

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand.

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair.

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful.

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again.

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you.

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame.

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you.

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin.

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential.

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands.

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind.

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK.

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake.

He knows.

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity.

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like.

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before.

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it?

Maybe you have it all wrong.

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you.

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick.

24 hours go by.

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up.

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure.

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off.

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking.

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep.

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed.

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone.

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said.

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room.

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while.

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs.

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones.

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble.

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no.

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly.

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence.

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans.

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure. After a pause, he sighs in defeat.

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown.

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless.

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up.

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones. It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic.

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand.

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket.

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter.

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges.

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it.

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it.

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer.

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing.

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?”

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you.

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?”

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that.

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before.

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft.

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest.

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows.

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts.

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning.

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration.

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous.

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them.

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit.

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice.

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making.

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now.

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that.

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers.

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute.

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base.

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut.

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock.

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.”

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk.

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump.

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment.

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry.

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!”

He knows.

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist.

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding.

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease.

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more.

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone.

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide.

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else.

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you.

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here.

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength.

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?”

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous.

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue.

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared.

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out.

“You regret your first time?”

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does.

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash.

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins.

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same.

You want to scream bloody murder.

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse.

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence.

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back.

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me.

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later.

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was.

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help.

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does.

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound.

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more.

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right.

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here.

“Goodnight.”

part five

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

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joeloverture · 3 months ago

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whist i get what you are saying about confederate flag, why is it deemed completely okay to write about joel saying that he would have fucked his 15 year old daughter given the chance. this isn’t trying to be hateful, i’m just genuinely curious

okay hi! thank you for being sane about this and actually approaching from a place of wanting to widen your scope. id direct you to @whataperfectwasteoftime for more on the confederate flag stuff. they made a well developed post on that for a much more aggressive version of this ask.

im sure u can guess what’s under the cut so heed any triggers you may have and put u first.

i want to make something clear here that i previously haven’t. i don’t think this fic belonged on tumblr. it’s ambiguous in its TOS whether its actually a violation or not, but since tumblr operates in areas where writing csa is illegal, it was never meant to be here in the first place. ao3? sure. whatever. but this is stirring things up because it was in an unexpected place. tumblr has more rules whereas ao3 is the scarcely contained Wild West of fanfic.

furthermore — i wouldn’t say it’s completely okay. these things have nuance. i read the fic, because I saw something like this coming from down the road considering the fandom climate. i do think the fic was stylistically written in a way that was self aware of the characters mutual destruction of each other. i also think it was intentionally inflammatory in some ways. however, everything was adequately tagged. people were free to move on if it caused discomfort, which i also want to make clear is a normal feeling. whether it be interacting with eroticized fanfiction or fiction in general, it is an inherently uncomfortable feeling sometimes! it’s up to us to determine what agitates our personal limits. i don’t think others should be held responsible for our consumption. what joel said in that fic was repulsive. it was meant to be! i also want to reiterate here that darkfic isn’t for me. dark fiction, though? that’s my shit — and i don’t mean dark romance or a little life, but the same theory can apply to those.

if we begin to crack down on eroticized fanfiction, the terminology they use will bleed into other areas of literature. suddenly the language used to describe a minor in an erotic work (and trust me, the thought of this does nauseate me — emphasis on this not being for me) is forbidden in a work that is raising awareness or telling a story. these may seem like far jumps, but loopholes like this exist everywhere in the law. it is why worries about rights to privacy emerged during roe v wade. especially with the right, famously laden with pedos and their enablers, they will pretend to be protecting people by silencing any dubious erotic work, then trans and queer voices (notice how they are constantly called pedos), and then real csa stories will be suppressed so they can get away with more.

id direct you to a pending law in tx, in which any obscene depiction of a minor or someone who looks like one. (senate bill 20)

big win, right?

nope. it’s far too up to interpretation at the prosecutorial level. scotus actually deemed this unconstitutional in 2003.

it is legal to marry a child in texas. these lawmakers use fiction as their scapegoat to avoid the moral consequences of actions they participate in. laws like this may start at the level of, say, anime or manga. but it very rapidly will spread to appropriate television, art, etc that depicts trans and queer people. and even beyond that.

i worry where this goes. if we don’t speak up now, who will speak up for us when they come for us? because they will.

additionally, fiction ≠ reality. this is an important distinction. fiction can be a powerful tool to explore what we fear, what we have experienced, and what we wish would happen. i cannot police what others do. only what i write and how i respond to their words.

#tw pedophila mention #ask #anon

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bardan-jusik · 4 months ago

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Get to know your mutuals ❤️❤️

tagged by both @babyscilence and @arliganzey thank u guys <333

What's the origin of your blog title? 'OYA MANDALORE' is a pretty clear explanation of what this blog is- a love of legends mandos and an absolute refusal to let specifically legends mandalorians get overshadowed by disney mandos (it drives me fucking bonkers when i see people saying 'this is the way' when 'oya' would evoke a more apt emotion)

OTP+Ship name: hmmm atin/laseema i think! i don't really have a ship name for them

Favorite color: i love u pine green. u can never go wrong with pine/sage/dark and desaturated green

Favorite game: all time favorite is Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess but i've been playing Fields of Mistria a lot recently

Song stuck in your head: god. lmao. Killers Walk

Weirdest habit/trait: uhmmm idk i really hate being barefoot?? socks in bed, socks basically all the time

Hobbies: mandalorian cosplay is probably my most major hobby but like i write and draw and can knit and crochet and stuff

If you work, what's your profession? accountant/auditor in training and also i work a grocery store bakery job (hopefully by the end of the year i'll be able to get another accounting/bookkeeping job and get out of the grocery store tho)

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? full time fiction author tbh. heavy on the military scifi

Something you're good at: i can pretty comfortably say i'm good at art and making things, speaking generally

Something you're bad at: musical instruments. i want to be good at it. ive tried. i am just not musical at all beyond singing

Something you love: my dual monitor pc setup <3 hell yeah

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: republic commando/legends mandalorians/my beef with disney canon. like don't get me started it's impossible to get me to shut up

Something you hate: ok this one took me a while bc i wanted to pick something that fills me with absolute incandescent rage that i would never defend anything about (without getting political) and while i am a little hater there is good in everything. so here's my one thing that makes me really fucking angry every time i think about it: once i had an rp partner who i knew was sucking ai's dick but i later found out they definitely fed my replies into an ai for 'help replying' and it makes me want to kill

Something you collect: star wars legos i guess but i havent gotten any new ones in a while

Something you forget: shit i still need to pick up my latest med refill. fuck

What's your love language: being willing to make stuff with u <33 headcanons, rp, art collab, food, whatever. my most sincere show of love is mutual creation

Favorite movie/show: movie: knives out and glass onion i think. i really adore a one-off movie with an exquisitely done plot show: andor. you don't get better cinema than that. (DO NOT LET ME DOWN IN APRIL I SWEAR TO GOD)

Favorite food: uhhmmm i don't really have a favorite but i would SMASH a good pulled pork sandwich right now

Favorite animal: teki assigned me coyote so coyotes i guess <3

What were you like as a child: i remember myself as being weirdcringe as hell but tbh all kids have a right to be weirdcringe. i really loved lord of the rings, medieval swords and armor and stuff, and then took a steep dive into star wars pretty young. i had a nerf sword i would carry around everywhere (i still have it actually) and i liked to pretend to be a lotr ranger with my threadbare blanket cloak and trusty steed (bike). i read a lot and didnt have to try to get straight a's in school

Favorite subject at school: despite being an easy straight A student i really liked PE. i was also a little bit of a jock kid (out of pure spite) and lived for the competition aspect it offered

Last Favorite subject: god chemistry was the FUCKING WORST

What's your best character trait? uh.... not to stroke my own ego or be pretentious about this but i like to think that it's an unkillable optimism and belief that there's some amount of good in literally everything? but i'm a huge hater tho.

What's your worst character trait? my self discipline in the face of tedium is dogshit tbh

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? 50,000 american dollars right in my bank account. jk actually it's that i would want my parents to at least not freak out about my immortal soul being in danger/probably consider me untouchable if i told them i don't have a gender and i want to legally do a gay marriage

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? a neolithic era person i think

NPT: @the-pyromaniacs-teki @zanabes @viscanpikamine @finerafin

#ask game

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bunnyboy-juice · 3 years ago

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hi! im Juice 🧃 im a big ol disabled lezzie. play with pronouns pls! (i use any/all, preference to he/ze/bun, no she/her w/o permission). nonmonog, genderqueer femme4all vers switch, rarely (if ever) seeking romantic relationships [tm]. collared (24/7) by my amazing alpha/butch/wife @pallasinine [also can be found @labrysknot (nsfw - follow her)]. publicly available nudes can be found under the #bunnyflesh tag. tips can be sent to $jmsosa1198/venmo: j-marie18

i block freely!! < 3 immediate blocks to: racists, fatphobes, transphobes, transmisogynists, zionists, ableists, antisemites, bioessentialists/transmedicalists, minors/ageless bios, men who try to flirt with me/interact with my nudes

this blog is frequently nsfw and contains harder kink posts (we practice RACK & affirmative consent here). when asked directly i can try to tag for harder/niche kinks, but also please be responsible for your own online experience!

more info about me re: kink & NSFW interactions under the cut!!

I 💞 interacting with y'all so talk to me!! send asks, send your thoughts*, ask me questions - i love it!! (* : me expressing my sexuality online is not automatic consent to playing with anyone. i will probably sit on anons of graphic scenes involving me before answering. i will likely not answer asks playing with topics such as ownership/claiming, molestation/rape, or breeding/pregnancy unless it's from a mutual/friend or someone who has established themselves prior on anon! i also do not recognize any/all D-types as dominant For/Over Me, so if you want to do dynamics play with me you need to actually get to know me. i Will ignore you if i don't like the energy you're coming to me with, especially if it is with expectations that because i can be submissive that i will automatically submit to you.)

kinks that im into (OK TO PLAY): WORLDS #1 URINAL (< piss/omo), bratting (do not threaten to break me if idk you, i will block you), bullying/over powering, primal play (as prey or as a predator pretending to be prey), violence/fighting(+ blood in these contexts), petplay (i am a rabbit!! befriend the bunny!! pet the bunny!! love the bunny!!), exhibitionism, voyeurism, objectification, breathplay, plushies/dollification

kinks im into (will rb posts of; for moots, friends, and lovers only unless otherwise specified): abuse/mind fuck (lovers only), feederism (friends & lovers only, am getting into stuffing), cnc (i rb posts on rape/molesting/grooming), breeding (largely fantasy land & rbs, not for play much rn), gaining/inflation (largely fantasy land, i top&dom only for this one), kidnapping/stalking, INTOXXXX, ownership (lovers Only), extreme violence (ie: cutting, breaking bones; largely only fantasy land reblogs)

hard limits (aka DO NOT PLAY): conversion/dyke breaking, scat, emeto, race play, slave play, competition/comparisons (esp for "best ___", dont compare others to me to praise me either i dont like it Period), incest (< im not against it At All, just prefer being a friend of the family more than a bio-family role), being hit with belts, being ignored, genuinely mean insults

titles I enjoy/am ok with (non exhaustive list, open to trying other titles with mutuals & friends): any variant on (the, not My) Bunny/toy/slut, ma'am/sir, prince(ess) (not royalty though, the way u call brats those words), doll/plushie, (compliments/insults)+boy,

tagging system:

bunnyflesh - nudes!

bunny binks - asks

bun.life - sfw photos/photos from my daily life

celebrity bun - muted original posts tag

bunny rambles - rambles/thoughts/diary entries

bunnyprints - nsfw text posts

my sonboy

if you read all this please like this post

#bunnyflesh #updated 06/04/25 #bunny binks #bunnyprints #bun.life #celebrity bun #bunny rambles #gif sourced on tumblr #hello kitty on white bg made by a friend #hello kitty on pink bg sourced also here i have no idea where anymore tho

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choptop-sawyer · 4 years ago

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Hi again 😎💫 im here to dig at ur brain again bcs i. M. Aaa sorry i just love ur stuff but. I have this kinda rly specific storyline type hc area and I'd love to hear any hcs you might get from it if its at all jr thing. But um I keep sometimes thinking back to the idea of kinda, vaguely growing up in the same area as the Sawyers, being childhood friends (and being stupid 2gether, running arount the countryside, ditching school & playing in corn fields) -

But then having to leave in your late teens to school / whatever (I mean 😎 my sappy ass also thinks abt mutual pining w Bobby but you know...... nearly unrelated.......)

Then, later on (Bobbys now Chop Top, Nubbins is..... dead I guess but also >:( maybe not, the family is up to being a mess etc) returning to town to take a break from work or whatever. N meeting up w the family again, i mean, oblivious to the bullshit they get up to but.... yk

This is a bit rambly i should probs have waited to sleep but I can't get the thought of returning to the Sawyer door wearing Bobbys tie dye sweatshirt that hr borrowed u years ago and all the impact of being a former family member bc u were also kind of an outsider or whatever but also the drama of leaving so uwu sksjd

This got so long. All i wanted to ask is: sawyer family headcanons for a childhood friend returning to town after being away for years. Rip.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS god I love the image too of just standing in the doorway,, you're not home, you've changed a little bit, but you still fit into some of the old aspects you know so well they fit you and cover you.

Actually this is great because that fic that I swear exists has pretty much the same premise but!!! I can make this one less tragic than that one. 😎

(This is mostly Chop Top n you centric please don't mind)

Also this timeline is all fucky. I think that as soon as Chop came home from Vietnam the Sawyers had basically uprooted themselves and were living in North Texas because of the... Hardesty incident. But like can we pretend that that never happened they r still there in Newt? Just for this. (Hope you like it!)

Chop Top's Childhood Friend Returns

You don't think you would have turned out the way you did without the Sawyers.

They were the main element of your childhood, a mystery that you had to be a part of. A mystery, because they were closed off. Mistrustful. The sickness of small towns carried to the extreme, because they were mostly alone. The loneliness made them more miserable, the misery made them more isolated. A cycle, a legacy.

So it was a a miracle that you were even allowed to be apart of some of it, but you attribute that miracle to Bobby.

He seemed to think you were as much of mystery as what you thought the Sawyers were. Two kids looking through a small window into another world. But he liked that. He liked that you were something different, something new. From beyond that small world of loneliness that lived in the house.

You learned quickly that he had a desire for anything beyond that world. So he'd invite you out with him, when you were kids, to run free in the tall grass, when you got older, to drive with him to places unknown. He had a knack for finding these odd places, and he always brought you along with the music cranked up loud on the radio.

Bobby told you many times that he wanted to see the world. He had this lust for life that went beyond the restlessness of the young. He also said that he wanted to bring you along with him when he saw the world. You didn't ever mention how that always made your heart skip a beat when he said that.

Maybe you should have. But the past is the past and you can't change that.

You knew the other Sawyers too, but Bobby tended to avoid them sometimes. But occasionally, you got to hang out with them.

Nubbins was an enigma. You didn't think Nubbins was his real name. But that's the only one you heard from him, but the name situation was the least confusing thing. He was the most open person you knew. And yet you couldn't understand him, and decided at some point that you wouldn't ever. But he was fun. His energy was infectious, if he was filled with joy, you couldn't help but laugh with him too. That was Nubbins, so absent of any purposeful deceit that he was almost a mirror, you saw yourself around him, sometimes it was uncomfortable, but other times it was fun.

Bubba was the opposite. He seemed to be legitimately wary of you. Bobby once told you that Bubba didn't like to leave the house, ever. He stayed and did the chores. You wondered if he minded, being stuck with all the chores but Bobby said he didn't. It was comforting for him. Always having something set to do. You only saw him once. Nubbins had made him tag along when he needed him to hang some things from a tree. Bones from indeterminate animals, a clock with a nail through it. You don't think Nubbins actually needed Bubba to reach the branches (he climbed pretty well) but he just wanted his little brother to see his work. Bubba didn't make eye contact with you the entire time. He was wholly focused on his task of helping Nubbins. But he was gentle when he helped his brother, careful, and for that you liked him.

Drayton was... well. He was the one Bobby argued with the most. He was his brother, but with how much age between the two, it was almost hard to believe sometimes. Drayton was the one that everybody in Newt knew the most. People liked him well enough, but they said he was odd behind his back. He knew that. You don't think he trusted anything outside the insular world he and his family had existed in for years, and was at odds with Bobby because he didn't get why Bobby wanted anything to do with the world outside.

Oftentimes you would see Bobby after he and Drayton got into it. He'd be fuming, but he'd smile when he saw you. You'd leave with him whenever he came to you. These adventures were the most fun you had when you were there.

The other times you'd go off were when he'd convince you to skip school. Bobby never went himself. He didn't get the idea of all those kids sitting in classrooms for hours, doing nothing but writing and listening. Why do that when you can find things out for yourself? Get into some trouble? In his mind, he was saving you from a very boring thing.

You two knew the area around Newt well. The fields and the flat expanses were the best kind of playground. Your dreams were still set in them. A kind of sunshine filled melancholy.

Bobby told you things in the grass. His dreams yes, but his own thoughts. On music, on late night radio, on movies, on you. He perhaps thought of you as wonderful as voices on the radio, stars on the screen. He never told you that though. But your name was never far from his mouth when Bobby talked about the things he loved.

You and him loved each other as much as two kids who didn't know how to could. He was always on your mind now, with not much tangible objects to remember him with. A photograph taken by Nubbins, your faces blurred because you were laughing. A button, the pin on the back bent. A sweatshirt, which he tie dyed himself, and gave to you one night. The colors were faded. You never did get to return it.

The years away did nothing to lessen thoughts of him. No, they just blurred all together now, and the stream of the sunshine filled melancholy was almost endless. You needed a break. There was only one place you could think of that could help you with that.

So you came back. All things led back to this place eventually. Newt was dying, or dead. Didn't you see somewhere that when a ship went down, it took everything with it? You didn't want to stay for long. But you had to see all of them, you had to know that they were all not these strange figures you had dreamt up.

You went right to the house. You'd never actually been allowed inside, Bobby just always said something along the lines of 'Grandma and Grandpa are napping upstairs' or 'there's a mess' (never mind that he could care less usually about messes.) But you figured he had had a good reason. Maybe he was embarrassed.

When you knocked on the door, your heart was pounding. And that was all. Nothing happened, no indication that anyone was there. You waited, the sweatshirt was too hot but you didn't want to take it off.

Maybe you should come back another time. You were just about to turn around and leave when the door burst open, almost whacking you in the face. And there (you couldn't believe your eyes you couldn't this was a dream) he was.

Bobby had a hammer raised over his head, grinning, he was poised to swing it down, but then he saw you and he felt as if he was in a dream too.

It's been so long. He thought he made you up, a dream to carry him through misery, and you looked the part, even as you stood before him on the doorway. The light of the setting sun shone behind you, heat waves shimmered in the dusk, and you... you.

Facing each other, you stood, just staring. Over head the sky grew colorful, in the fields the grass whispered in the wind. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Bobby dropped the hammer and grabbed for your face, and he held it, fingers digging in so tight it hurt.

"H-hey you." He said, and fell to his knees, releasing your face. You numbly touched the marks his fingers left. Bobby still looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

You called his name, and his eyes looked lost, like he hadn't heard it in a long time. He looked up at you, and you could really get a good look at him. His face was leaner, he looked sickly and wiry, but his eyes were just as you remembered. You sank down to the porch to sit with him.

"Fuck... FUCK I didn't... I- I thought ya'd forgotten all about me... uh.. uhm. Fuck! I mean, r-really! Turnin' up out of the blue like you're some kinda... ghost or whatever... WHOA man... like, ya here to return m-my, my sweatshirt? You're wearin' it, you can keep it! You look better in it anyway... heh, fuck." He rambled on and on, hands tensing and twitching as if they were moving to touch you again, just to reaffirm your existence. Did he know how glad you were to see him? Did he know that you hadn't felt right for the longest time being away?

You forgot all about the sweatshirt, the hammer he had raised with a sadistic grin. You reached out and held one of his twitching hands, and he stilled and stopped talking. There was a peace now.

It didn't seem possible for your heart to feel this full. But it was. And by god, if this wasn't the best decision you made in your life to visit your old hometown, if only just for this moment.

Bobby stood, with your hand still in his, pulling you up. He smiled at you, and you knew you still loved him, and in your deepest heart, you knew he loved you too.

But this time around, maybe you and him could love each other right.

#tcm #texas chainsaw #chop top #chop top sawyer #chop top sawyer x reader #tcm 2 #texas chainsaw massacre #slashers #slasher x reader #my writing #chop top x reader #choptop sawyer

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binniesthighs · 5 years ago

Note

hi!! i rly liked your first writing it was so cute and you described jisung so well too! can i request a friends to lovers with han? kinda slow burn like they're really good friends but jisung gets jealous of her close friend and reader secretly likes him too but she doesnt wanna ruin the things between them so... one day they get into a fight and they end up making out😳 bc shes like "wtf we're friends" smut is ok but just a make out would be fine too the details r up to u💗

why yes you can! Thank you for requesting hehe you are my first ask ever ♡ I hope that you like it, here’s some best friend ‘sungie for ya :)

all yours | reader x jisung |

Paring: self-insert, female reader x han jisung

Genre: fluff ‘n a lil bit of smut & angst

Tags: student!reader, bestfriend!jisung, lab partner!felix (haha), friends to lovers, mutual pining, best friend au, college au, jealousy, slow-ish burn, mentions of exams, some yelling, reader is secretly whipped for jisung (and jisung for the reader), explicit language, marking, that good good makin’ out

Word count: 2.4k

“Hey!”

The little ball of paper that you had crinkled up bounced off Jisung’s arm with a soft pat.

“What happened to studying together? You said that you were gonna quiz me.”

Jisung’s eyes popped up from his phone screen looking a little bewildered. “Sorry, I just...got a little distracted.

“Distracted? Looking at what?”

“Oh, nothing.” He placed his phone down, clicking it off.

“Is “nothing” code for some girl’s Instagram?” You dished him out a teasing smirk. “I think you forget that I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.”

Jisung shuffled the papers in front of him pretending like he had something to do. “Psh. I was not.”

“--Does she go to school here?”

“I told you, I said no.” He furrowed his brow trying to look as serious as possible, but that was nearly impossible for someone as naturally adorable as him. “Why are you drilling me? Aren’t you supposed to be doing some work right now?”

“~So are you~” You teasingly sang back to him, giving him a kick under the table just for good measure.

Jisung threw your balled up paper ball back to you. “Let’s just get back to what we were doing so we can leave. I don’t wanna end up like him.”

He nodded over to the end of your table where a student had fallen asleep mid-chapter. His nose twitched and he snorted a little bit. You knew exactly what Jisung meant, you didn’t want to be at the library at 11pm on a Tuesday either; it was your better judgement that told you.

“Can we get food after this?” Jisung asked after approximately five minutes of “working.”

“Sounds good to me.” You quipped, barely allowing your eyes to leave your computer screen. You found that you always had to try you best to let him not distract you. He was really good at that.

You slid a stack of index cards in front of him. “Ask me these? I’m having a hard time getting the Latin names down...if you’re not busy?”

“Nope!” He piped, and shoved his notebook away.

“Okay!” He said with determination and a little bounce. He fixed his oversized hoodie before starting, looking adorably lost in the fabric.

He asked you the first question, but it barely met your ears. There you were, getting distracted by him again.

screw you Han Jisung, you thought to yourself.

☆。*。☆。

“I just don’t understand how you make sense of all that crap, I could never be a science major like you are.”

“--And I could never understand production like you do.”

“And this is why we work.” Jisung grinned with smiling eyes while he opened the library door for you. “I’m starving, I can’t stop thinking about--”

“--Y/n??” A voice called from behind the two of you.

The two of you whipped your heads back to see a loveable looking blonde and freckled boy bounding to catch up with you. It was Felix, your lab partner from zoology. The two of you were nothing more than classroom friends, but his friendly kindness was always something that brightened up your terrible 9 am lab.

“Felix!” You beamed, holding the door so it wouldn’t close on him. “Are you here studying for the exam as well?”

“Oh yeah, I just...my brain couldn’t take it any more,” He sarcastically mimed his head pains, “I just need to get some sleep now.”

“I just don’t get how they expect us to know all of those phyla like its nothing.”

“I know right?’ He chuckled.

Next to you, Jisung silently poked at the elevator button to go down.

“Is it alright if I head down with you guys?”

“Of course!” You motioned him in.

Once the doors had closed, the three of you found a different corner of the small box to plant yourselves in.

“shit-sorry, Felix, I didn’t introduce you, this is Jisung.”

“Hi!” Felix shone, and Jisung gave him a curt nod back.

Felix waved to two of you goodbye, leaving you in the nighttime snow. You noticed that as Felix walked away he had a little bounce to his step; and you couldn’t help but crack a little smile.

“Our usual?” Jisung asked you with a little edge to his voice.

You linked your arm around his, letting out a little shrill sound when the fabric of your two coat sleeves met. “Sounds good to me!” You nuzzled up into him while both of your bodies’ heat intermingled.

The two of you walked on under the streetlights which illuminated the falling flakes in streams of light. You never loosened your grip, as had become your habit lately when the two of you walked around. Jisung never seemed to mind; the two of you had been mistaken for a couple more than enough times thanks to it. When it did happen, it didn’t phase you at all. Being close to Jisung was like second nature to you.

The whole walk over Jisung never uttered a word, which was uncharacteristic of his usual boisterous self.

“Is everything okay?”

He sniffled, “Yeah, I think I just got kinda tired out of nowhere.”

“Ah.” You mouthed, and squeezed his arm a little harder.

After a moment’s silence, he somberly announced, “If you’re in the same class as him, maybe you should study with him.”

“Huh.” You tsked. “Yeah, I mean I never thought about that before...I guess that could do me some good.”

You looked slightly up to him: a product of him being slightly taller than you. His brown eyes remained stoic, and you couldn’t figure out why. You hated it when he wouldn’t tell you what was wrong, but he was also stubborn at letting up.

“But thank you for helping me tonight! You know that I reeealy appreciate it.” You turned your tone as cutesy as you could--Jisung hated it, but you knew that it could bring a smile to his face.

His gaze softened a bit. “Anytime. You’d do the same for me.”

☆。*。☆。

Jisung rested his head on your shoulder on the bus ride home with his phone weakly held in his hand. One more bump in the road and you knew that it would go flying so you carefully took it into your own lap where it would be safe. You wouldn’t dare moving an inch because you had a feeling that he had closed his eyes. Time had slipped past 1am, and you had to keep fighting yawns yourself. The bus driver had been blasting the heat, so it wasn’t hard at all for you to feel cozy.

You glanced down at his open hand in his lap. It looked exactly like he was beckoning for you to scoop it up in your own. You wondered what what happen if you did. What would he think of it? Would he think anything of it? You had held hands before, but every time you had it had been under purely platonic pretenses. If you just grabbed it now, what would the pretenses be then? The two of you cozied up on a bus: that was something that couples did.

You shut your eyes closed tightly and tried your best to banish all the thoughts clouding your head.

Jisung’s hand twitched, looking even more inviting.

screw you Han Jisung.

☆。*。☆。

[7:14pm]

jisung: you want to come over? Changbin is cooking and i don’t wanna eat whatever he’s making alone

[7:31pm]

me: sorry, I’m studying with Felix at the library, I think that we are gonna be here late. It’s all the Latin, I’m drowning in the Latin, Sung.

I’m sorry.

see you Friday once I’m out of this hell?

[7:34pm]

jisung: see you friday.

☆。*。☆。

You pounded on the door to Jisung’s apartment with your phone in hand, the white screen showing you the number that you had worked so hard for.

“Open the door!” You called giddily. “Jisung! I know that you’re in here, we need to celebrate! ~I can treat youuu~”

Just as you were about to knock again, the door swung open, revealing a wet haired Jisung in his grey sweats and tee. His brown strands of hair were scattered around his head while he rubbed at them with a towel.

“Shit! Can’t I shower?” He jested.

It took all your will power not to ogle him more. He looked devastatingly handsome, but you swallowed down how utterly flustered he had made you.

You cleared your throat, “Uh...sorry...” then remembered your phone in your hand. “I got a 96! Can you believe it! I’m even surprised too, when I was taking the test I just got so nervous...”

“All that studying paid off huh?” He cockily rose an eyebrow. “You can go ahead and thank me now, without my help...” He shrugged with a grin.

You invited yourself in and threw your bag down at the door like you usually did.

“Thank youuu” You sung. “Oh! And studying with Felix really paid off too.” You took off your shoes, thinking of how nice it had been to finally study with someone who knew your class topics. Not that Jisung wasn’t helpful, but you and Felix were on the same page. “He knew it all way more than I did, so he was super helpful. I forgot to text him--”

Jisung closed the door behind you with a slam that made you jump. He moved away from you, not meeting your eyes. The air around the two of you suddenly became thick with something that did not feel as excited as you just were.

“...do you wanna maybe watch a movie?” You moved closer. “Or we could get some deliv--”

“--Why even bother coming over here?” Jisung suddenly huffed.

“What?”

Jisung’s words flew out of his mouth sharply, “If he was so helpful? What are you doing here, huh?”

“Jisung, I don’t understand...” Your heartbeat quickened in your chest and you felt anxiety swell there as well. Jisung never spoke to you like this. He never sounded like this.

He growled out a little sound in frustration. “I-I just...can’t believe you--”

“--Me? Jisung, what did I do?” You threw your arms up, genuinely confused.

He ran his fingertips over his temples and let out a deep exhale. “Y/n, don’t pretend like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Your temper started to become seething and you felt your ears get hot. “Tell me Jisung. Tell me what I did. And while you’re at it, what has been up with you these past few days? Being short with me, and distant, yeah-I’ve noticed...what are you doing??”

Jisung heaved breaths in and out of his chest, then ran a hand through his hair. He still couldn’t meet your eyes.

For a moment, a flash of panic surged in your head, making your heart ache with an unexpected pain. You truly didn’t know what he had meant, and if you had made a mistake, you knew it could mean loosing him. God, that was the last thing in the world you wanted. It always was.

“If I did something wrong tell me because clearly I don’t know!!” You yelled back at him, straining your throat.

He walked up to you, then grabbed your shoulders with a firm grip. Finally, you saw his eyes, brown and soft, holding a type of pain that you hadn’t seen in him before.

screw you, Han Jisung.

“Jisung, I--”

You were shoved by the shoulders in milliseconds to the door behind you, the impact nearly knocking the wind out of you. You gasped in your surprise, but your mouth was immediately shut by Jisung ramming his lips into yours. His hands needily took your face into his palms with his mouth blazing with hunger for you.

It took you a moment to realize what had just happened and steady yourself after being so startled. His lips were so soft and warm, your brain had a hard time recognizing that he was really doing this. His haste made no indication of stopping so you let yourself do what you had wanted to do for years: you kissed him back with everything that you had.

As soon as you did so, he let out little desperate moans between your lips in response. You let your arms wrap around his back and he fell into them just right. Naturally you took one of your hands to the back of his head and tangled up your fingers in his hair. God, it all felt so good. Jisung snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you into him with force, crashing your hips together.

The two of you clumsily made your way to the couch where he threw you down and crawled over top of you just as fast. He moved to your neck then traversed around your skin, sending shivers all through your body. Your hands eagerly found his back where you dug into him, wanting to be impossibly close. To your side, he carefully took your hand in his, weaving all of your fingers together.

Jisung pressed down into you and began to suck at your neck without holding himself back. It was such an intense feeling that couldn’t help but moan out something you didn’t know you could. You felt his mouth turn into a grin on your skin while he continued. It stung a little when he removed his lips, but he gently kissed each mark as if he was soothing it once he was done. He stopped to admire the little array of purple bruises he had made.

“I want you all to myself.” Jisung’s voice was hoarse, but still honey-covered in desire.

“What are we doing?” You asked him in breathless disbelief.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He whispered, and appeared to calm his breaths. “I don’t care.”

"You don’t?”

“Why should I?” He cocked his head and used his free hand to caress your face.

“--That this could change things between us?”

“You don’t want it too?” He looked a little confused.

You felt a warmth rush to your cheeks. “--No! I do, I do...trust me.”

“Then can I kiss you some more?” Jisung grinned down at you as loving as he always had, but this time it meant something slightly different.

“...please.”

He lowered back onto you, connecting your lips once more. Jisung’s tongue languidly smoothed onto yours and you already felt intoxicated by the feeling. You tightened your fingers around his.

I’ve always been yours.

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godeyed · 3 years ago

Text

a novel based , independent , highly private and mutuals only portrayal of

𝖆𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖞𝖊𝖓 : kinslayer , aemond one - eye.

second son of king viserys the i and alicent hightower. based on george rr martin's fire and blood.

triggering themes will be tagged / include : anger and violence, murder, death, particularly child death and the celebration of it ( especially when it comes to lucerys velaryon , rest in peace king ) misogyny, mentions of incest ( but never explicitly written. ) 20+ only.

interest tracker . . . prompts

please read my rules before following : i will not follow first as i want writers to read my rules and decide for themselves if they want to follow <3

my boundaries include:

since incest unfortunately is a huge part of the ' a song of ice and fire ' universe, it can't be avoided, and so it will be mentioned ( and tagged ! ) however, it will never be explicitly written.

do not follow me if you write lucerys x aemond / lucerys x aegon.

anti - daemyra. and i just generally will not be cool w ppl writing incest in anyway which includes aemond and helaena and aemond/aegon .. pls no thank u ! i firmly rebuke all of the canon / fandom ships for aemond sorry fjdjf. this includes aemond x alys , who i don't ship for my own reasons. ( i am uncomfortable with age gaps mostly but am willing to write them in a non - romantic way ! ) i also ask if you do ship them in a romantic way and decide to follow me, to please tag it so that i can block the tag.

there will most likely be criticism of house of the dragon found here. it will be tagged as : hotd crit / with that said i do not mind writing with hotd based muses at all, this is just a personal thing when it comes to the way they decided to depict aemond / it goes directly against my portrayal.

i assume if you follow me, you have an interest in the greens in some capacity ( as do i ! ) however : if you are anti - team black , anti - rhaenyra , anti - alicent , anti - targaryen women , please don't follow me. criticism of all of the above are welcome , but i tend to avoid people who proudly claim they hate any of the those characters / especially targaryen women. if you can't acknowledge the fact that a lot of them ( especially dany and rhaenyra ) are the heroes / victims of the story , who have flaws along with any other character , then maybe i am not the person to follow.

this blog is an attempt at writing aemond in a very novel - based way. he's cruel , a loser , narcissist , definitely a misogynist etc. he kills his poor nephew because he wants to kill him, it wasn't an accident. despite this, i'm interested in writing a very nuanced character who does bad things bc he feels entitled to it , as well as stepping away from the way media always needs a reason for a character to do bad things. sometimes there is no rhyme or reason. if you don't like that, then this blog may not be for you. <3

with all that said, i do think aemond serves cunt. he has a lot of qualities that i like and want to portray / really love the idea of his position within his families dynamics. i'm going to try talking about all his cool and cunty qualities a lot here without erasing the bad.

writing , shipping , general etiquette:

multi - verse, multi - ship, i do and will practice mains and exclusives. duplicate, crossover, and oc friendly. ( for ocs please have a bio or at least some stats ! )

very important note : do not approach me immediately for shipping purposes. i hate feeling like someone doesn't care about my character beyond a ship that they can offer.

with that said, shipping is so fun, and i'm not gonna pretend that i don't want to do it ... but it's just not a priority for me. if you'd like to, we can discuss it only after we have already established some sort of foundation whether that is through a thread or through plotting. keep in mind that he's not a particularly fun guy so ... just you know, please remember that when you approach me.

please do not god - mod! please also keep in mind that my activity is very low. you can remind me about a thread you might think i missed, but please leave it at one reminder and do not pester me. i have a full time job and writing is just a hobby. if i do not reply to a meme you sent me, or if i don't continue a thread, it doesn't mean i'm uninterested.

if you want to unfollow, please hard block so that i don't forget and try to refollow you. i'll do the same.

i don't care to see vagues or ooc drama, we're all adults and if you ever have a problem with me, i'd love it if you communicated that or simply just block me!

this really doesn't need to be said but i'll say it : if i see racism, transphobia, homophobia, white washing, etc. i will simply hard block.

thank you for taking the time to read this. i know it's a lot but i just want to make sure that i'm comfortable in this space, and set clear boundaries so that there is no confusion in the future. i am super excited to explore aemond's character in a way that feels right to me and to the depiction that we received of him in fire and blood!

#pinned.#dni.#mun info : im lucia! 27. she / they. based in north america.

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astralaffairs · 4 years ago

Text

put a ring on it 05 | philip hamilton

title: put a ring on it 05

pairing: philip hamilton x reader

words: 9.5k

warnings: another stupid cliffhanger, death mentions?, not much tbh

desc: You’ve never liked Philip Hamilton, and have always assumed the feeling has been mutual. But when you’re roped into pretending to be his girlfriend for a family reunion, you feel all your truths beginning to melt away, and find them instead taking form in his smile.

tags: @beepbeepstop @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @tf2germanvillain @ela-ena @abundant-stars @heytheredee-lilah @katierpblogg @thisshitfucks @celyndavies @quixoticallydelusional @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @yxseminx @sadhwstudent @aiifandomsunite @loonaynay @valleryhyde @lxncelot @checkurwindow @katierpblogg @alievans007@nyxie75 @ii-moonlight-ii @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @elegantbutedgy @maxi-ride @moose-on-the-l00se @itshaileyn @someinsanefangirl @theirishhufflepuff @golddiggs-x @drreamhugs @sillyteecup @notebookgirl30 @marvelouslyemily @checkurwindow @kmsmedine - lmk if u wanna b added

"Patsy, you've gotta help me. I'm freaking out."

You were slumped on the floor of the Hamiltons' bathroom by then, praying that no one would come and knock, ask to use it. To your relief, when you called, Patsy picked up the phone without hesitation - she'd been on alert, waiting for your SOS all weekend. However, the emergency call you were making didn't quite match the one she was expecting.

"Oh, god; what'd he do?" your roommate groaned from the other end of the line. "Am I gonna need to kick his ass the minute you two get back to town?"

"Shockingly, no," you mumbled, letting out a soft huff as your absent gaze fell to the green wall before you. "I... have a much different problem."

"What, did you fuck one of his cousins? Did the woman who offered to be your sugar mama a while back end up being his aunt?" Despite your state of panic, her words made you smile as you rolled your eyes. "Wait, holy shit, did you fuck him?"

You grimaced at her final question. While it didn't hit the mark, it was far too close to it for your comfort. "No, I absolutely did not."

"So what's the issue, then?"

"I... oh, god, you're definitely gonna make fun of me for this," you sighed, and Patsy didn't respond, instead waiting for you to continue. When you did, your voice was small, shaky. "I think I like him, Patsy. I really think I like him."

There was a skip.

"I'm sorry, is this some kind of a prank?"

"Patsy," you groaned, your head falling back against the bathroom wall, and she was quick to backtrack.

"No, no, I'm happy for you; don't get me wrong," she said quickly, pausing before she added, "I'm just surprised. What happened?"

"I don't even know. I just... he's really not the person I thought he was. So much of what I thought I knew about him was off base," you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. "How was I supposed to know he was secretly all caring and thoughtful? And he's so good with kids; god, it's adorable. Too much has changed this weekend; my head is spinning. I don't know what to do about it."

"Well, keep in mind that there's a reason he asked you to come home with him," she said matter-of-factly, and you furrowed your brow.

"What d'you mean?"

"Y/N," she sighed, "You two weren't friends. There was no world in which you would've agreed to be his cover story, but he still told his family he was dating you. You really don't think that was a little bit intentional?"

You scoffed. "Are you implying that he was projecting?"

"If the shoe fits."

"Patsy, it wasn't pointed; it was just convenient," you argued, pulling your knees into your chest, tucking the phone between your shoulder and your ear. "I'm his coworker. There are pictures of me and him together at work. I live far enough from the Hamiltons that it was easy to excuse the fact that I'd never met them."

"You're not his only coworker," Patsy replied, and you rolled your eyes at how certain she sounded.

"So who's to say I wasn't chosen at random?"

"Me. You spent years openly resenting him. You would've been the least convenient person in your office for him to pick," she pointed out, and you pursed your lips, playing absentmindedly with the edge of the shag carpet on the bathroom floor.

"I'm also the least insufferable," you replied. "Not to be anti-woman, or anything, but I don't have a single female coworker who I could spend a weekend with without going insane."

"Okay, so you can agree that he doesn't find you insufferable."

"That's a low, low bar."

"But don't you find it even a little bit weird?" You bit your lip at her words, and your brow was furrowed but your gaze empty. "Why would he need a fake girlfriend to begin with?"

That, however, made you wince. Even just hours before, you may not have known how to answer, but- "Actually, I have a hunch about that."

"Oh?"

"Unfortunately." You resented the sound of your own voice shaking as you remembered the scene you'd just fled, and apparently, any respite the phone call provided from the sinking feeling in your stomach was long gone. "His ex is here. She's crazy pretty, and she's totally sweet, and she's obviously still into him. She's even my dream girl. I think he asked me here to make her jealous."

There was a pause on her end of the line; all you received was static as she let out a sigh. "See, I don't buy that."

"Why not? It'd make perfect sense," you said irately. "He seemed to really want me to meet her, and, God, you shoud've seen how excited he looked to see her."

"If she's a family friend, you shouldn't be surprised that they're still on good terms. Haven't you ever stayed friends with any of your exes?"

"Not like that." You swallowed hard; Patsy couldn't see it, but your eyes were sullen, downcast as you recalled the interaction. Jesus, you'd been so stupid to get attached to him; it hadn't even been three days. You really, really should've seen something like this coming. You'd long known Philip to be self-interested, why should this be any different?

But he'd had no one to perform for when he'd spent the whole afternoon with you coddling his niece and nephew. He couldn't prove anything to anyone by the fact that you'd woken up in his arms two mornings in a row. He had nowhere to invoke how protective he'd been as his family dragged you this way and that, interrogating you all the while.

You realized you'd let your call go silent for several moments too long. "I dunno. It's just too complicated. I don't know what to think of any of it."

When she sighed, you recoiled at the loud rush of static that came from your phone. "I know you're not gonna like hearing this, but you need to talk to him."

"How the hell am I supposed to talk to him about this?"

"Be upfront. I'm serious, Y/N; your reservations about what you're feeling are all just you self-sabotaging, and you well know it." Though she wasn't wrong, her words left you on edge - if you were upfront with him, you hadn't a single clue how he'd react. "I know you haven't let yourself fall for anyone since John, but-"

"Please don't bring him into this," you said, the words weary. Patsy had known you for years; she could hear the grief building in the back of your throat before you could swallow it. She paused before speaking, and when she did, her voice was much softer.

"Sorry. I really didn't mean to, but..." You braced yourself for her to continue, your jaw tight. "It's the truth. It's been years. Don't you think it's time for you to stop holding yourself back from living?"

Your sigh was heavy; you would've even chalked it up as being born somewhat of your dramatics if not for the despair you couldn't stop from building in your voice when you responded. "Maybe it is. But I'm not ready to get hurt." The words were almost a whisper, as tearful as any cry. "I... I didn't even like Philip until two days ago; who's to say this won't just pass in another two?"

"I can't make that call for you, love," she replied, tone sympathetic. "But, please, don't self-sabotage out of fear. You deserve so much better than that."

"But I am afraid," you said, and you drew in a shaky breath. "How could I not be?"

"You've been working past all your fears for years, now. Years. It's time to stop being afraid."

"I..." you started, but you trailed off, knowing that putting up a fight wouldn't get you anywhere from there. "Thanks, Patsy. I think that, for now, I just need to clear my head. I don't want to do anything I'll regret."

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything else. Love you, Y/N."

At that, you gave a watery smile. "Love you, too."

You didn't move from your spot on the floor until the incessant drone of the dial tone into your ear became unbearable.

It was only minutes later that, after you'd exited the bathroom, flushed the toilet and washed your hands for good measure despite not having used it, ran almost directly back into Philip. He was in the dining room, chatting with Maria when you found him - or, really, when he found you.

You were hesitant to approach the pair, but when Philip noticed you, you could see him cut himself off mid-sentence, muttering something more to her before he made his way across the room to you.

"Hey, Hamilton." You offered him a weak smile, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Since when are we back to 'Hamilton,' hm?"

"Sorry. Just what I'm used to," you mumbled, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Still?"

You shrugged. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

"Alright, princess." He shook his head lightly, amusement written into his smile. "Where have you been? When I came in to find you, you weren't around."

Again, you shrugged. You were on edge, suddenly seeming to be at a complete loss for words. "I just ran to the bathroom. I'm back now," you said lamely, and he grinned.

"I can see that. You wanna come with me to get something to eat?"

You took a deep breath, trying your best to settle your fresh batch of nerves, and you nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright, let's go." He tipped his head toward the kitchen, and when you started in his direction, he reached over, looped an arm around your waist as he began to walk with you, but the sudden contact made your skin jump. You tensed in his hold, and he glanced over to you with a furrowed brow, concern written deep in his expression. "You okay?"

You exhaled shakily. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just fine."

He pursed his lips. "You're sure?"

"Of course. Don't worry about it."

"Okay." He didn't seem convinced, though, as he looked her over once more. "Can we talk later? In private?"

You could feel your heart rate begin to pick up with the hesitance in his voice; your mouth was suddenly too dry to speak. You managed a tight smile and nodded; his expression didn't change. "So, dinner?"

-------

The next hour was tense. You couldn't avoid Philip's skeptical, sidelong glances; you couldn't avoid how you shrunk away every time he came just inches too close for comfort.

The past few days had become comfortable, a difference you couldn't help but find pleasant, but it was a change so gradual you almost hadn't noticed — that is, until it came rushing toward you all at once. You were constantly on edge, and his concern only seemed to grow. You tried to relax, but your nerves wouldn't let you, not as you questioned every fleeting touch, every lopsided smile.

Within an hour, nearly all of the family had been herded back outside, something you didn't mind in the least — the overcrowded lawn gave you an easy excuse to ignore Philip, focusing your energy on his little cousins and siblings. (You and Eliza Jr. had established quite the rapport; she'd provided the imaginary tea and cookies and was now filling you in on all the real tea in her brunch circle, including the failed marriage between her Barbie and her stuffed crocodile. It'd been toxic for both of them, or so you were told.)

As hard as you tried to forget the unfortunate epiphany that afternoon had brought you to, it remained perpetually at the surface of your mind, coloring every one of your interactions with Philip. His concern appeared to be unavoidable, too.

"Hey, princess."

You jumped at the feeling of Philip's hand coming to rest on your shoulder, tearing you from your scintillating conversation with your new four-year-old (tea) drinking buddy. You glanced back at him with wide eyes, a hand on your chest as though to still the rapid thumping of your heart, and he stood there with an eyebrow raised.

"Jesus. You can't just scare me like that," you said, seemingly winded, and he only laughed.

"My sincerest apologies."

"Oh, I'm sure."

He swung a folding chair out from the table behind you, turning it so he could sit beside you, facing his little sister with a grin. "So, what have you and Y/N been talking about? Have you been spilling all the family secrets while I wasn't around to hear?"

She let out a huff, seemingly put-off by his appearing. "No, we've been talking about my drama."

You couldn't help but grin when she folded her arms, wearing a stubborn frown, and Philip turned to you with a brow raised. "And what drama might that be?"

"I've been persuaded to act as a divorce lawyer for a crocodile and a Barbie."

"Oh, really?"

You nodded your frank confirmation. "I'm responsible for dividing up the assets."

That coaxed a chuckle from him as he glanced to Eliza. "Seems like a big job. Why wasn't I offered the position?"

"'Cause you aren't as nice as Y/N," she said matter-of-factly, and your eyebrows shot up. "You can't be mean to them while they're going through a divorce."

"Seriously?"

"You heard her," you said, casting Philip a look of faux contempt. "You have to be gentle with their feelings."

"And I'm not good enough at that?" He raised an eyebrow, and although his smile was still light, your conversation still surface-level, the broader circumstances left a heavy undertone in his words that put you on edge. You forced a smile.

"I wouldn't know."

"No, he isn't good enough at it, Y/N," Eliza Jr. insisted, yanking you abruptly from beginning to overanalyze his words. "You can leave us alone, Pip. We've got it handled."

"You're just gonna send me away?" he asked incredulously. She shrugged, and he turned to you. "C'mon, back me up, here."

"Actually, you should stay," you agreed, but at the tension in your tone, he furrowed his brow. "I'm going to go inside for a little; I need something to drink." You turned to Eliza Jr. with a smile. "Is it alright if Philip holds down the fort for a while with the divorce? I give him my full endorsement."

She huffed, folding her arms. "Okay. But don't stay away too long; my Barbie needs you."

"Thanks, Eliza. He promises he won't let you down; don't you, Pip?"

Although you offered him a light smile, the skepticism in his gaze didn't dissipate. "Yeah, of course," he ultimately said, turning back to his sister. "So, fill me in. What tore their marriage apart?"

You couldn't help your soft smile at how serious he looked as Eliza handed him the plush crocodile, but when he shifted in his seat, you flinched, figured he was about to turn to see you standing there stating at him. When he didn't, you took a deep breath and continued back toward the house. You were struggling to keep your bearings. Keep it together, Y/N.

Unfortunately, you'd spent the weekend so focused on Philip (too focused on Philip) that you hadn't bothered to give the layout of the house a second glance. The minute you stepped inside, you were essentially wandering.

You greeted Philip's family (and non-family) members in passing on your way, struggling to connect names to faces and forgetting whether the man who asked where to find Philip was John Laurens or John Church. They asked you if you needed help finding something, but no, you assured them you were just making a run inside to retrieve something from your suitcase.

That was how you found yourself in a secluded little library off at the far end of the first floor. You sank into the cool leather couch with a sigh, glad to be able to finally catch your breath — you could still see the reunion just outside the window, though, and the thoughts that'd had your head spinning all day didn't care to subside.

You only realized you were looking for him after you found him, still seated with Eliza Jr., but it seemed Eliza Sr. had found a role in the divorce proceedings, and you laughed quietly to yourself.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You jumped at the gentle voice that came from the doorway off to your left. You'd thought you were alone, but when you turned, you found a woman walking in to join you who couldn't have been more than 45.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said quickly, standing up with wide eyes. "I didn't mean to intrude; I just—"

"No, none of that," —she waved off your apology, the wine in her tall glass sloshing about— "Eliza and Alex don't care where you go in their house. Their kids are seven too many for them to give a damn what happens to their property. You could trash the place, and they'd blame William."

You weren't quite sure whether you should stay, though. You froze in the process of standing up, eyeing the woman warily. She laughed. "What I mean is, relax. Geez."

Her easy nonchalance was putting you more at ease, and when you sat back down, she joined you on the other side of the couch. A moment passed, and you were about to fill the silence, but she beat you to it.

"So, I don't recognize you, which must mean you're the girl Philip tricked into coming home with him for a weekend," she said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of her wine.

"I..." you started, trailing off as you processed her words, and when she raised her eyebrows, you said, "yeah, I guess that'd be me. I'm Y/N."

"Oh, I know who you are. Think I've seen you in a few photos, but after the first five niece-in-laws, they all started to look the same," she sighed, clearly expecting you to commiserate with her. You were still stuck on trying to figure her out before you said anything you shouldn't.

She bumped her elbow into yours. "Don't look so scared. I'm not saying I'm expecting you two to get married anytime soon," she assured you. "Philip's never been great with commitment, either. You're the only long-term relationship he's had since high school, y'know."

So her quip about Philip 'tricking you into coming home with him' really was just a joke. The tension in your shoulders eased.

"I mean, we're taking things slow. One day at a time," you said, plastering on a smile. You hesitated. "But I'm sorry, have we met?"

She laughed, took another sip of her drink, and as she shook her head, you weren't sure what to make of how entertaining she was finding your question.

"No, no, not yet," she said. "I'm Philip's Aunt Peggy, Eliza's sister. Probably should've covered that before ambushing you in the library, huh?"

"That's alright." Your smile was candid, then. "It's really nice to meet you; Philip's told me quite a bit about you."

She cocked a dubious eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"Not at all." She was still eyeing you skeptically as she swirled her wine glass. "He's told me all your travel stories — I hear you're the fun aunt. Can you confirm?"

She shrugged it off, but her smile was wide. "Ah, he's just saying that because I sent the Hamiltons desserts in bulk when I was abroad. I'm just funding his materialism."

"To be fair, if any of my aunts sent me that much candy, they'd be my favorites, too," you reasoned.

"Aw, I'm his favorite?"

"Don't tell the others."

She snickered. "No promises."

"Well, if you do, don't rat me out," you warned, but your smile was amused. "You didn't hear it here."

"Alright, alright, I'll give you a pass," she sighed, "but only 'cause you're my favorite of the girls he's dated. You didn't hear that here, either."

"Don't make that call just yet," you said skeptically. "You hardly know me."

"No, but I've heard about you," she said. "I can tell you're better for Philip than any of his exes were. Just take me at my word."

"Seriously?" She nodded, and you eyed her dubiously. "What about Henriette? As far as your family's concerned, she can do no wrong."

The sidelong glance Peggy gave you was amused, but you shifted in your seat as she took a sip of her wine. "You don't need to worry about Henriette." Your eyebrows shot up. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she's a sweet girl."

The thought didn't seem quite complete, though, and you waited for her to continue. "...but?"

"But, well... at the end of the day, she was bad for him, and that was that," Peggy said frankly. "I mean, he broke up with her for a reason."

"He broke up with her?" The disbelief was clear in your voice, but Peggy didn't pay it any mind. She just nodded.

"Philip was head over heels for that girl, once upon a time." She turned to you, and your unease must've been written more clearly across your face than you thought. She gave you a comforting smile, rested a hand on your knee. "Don't look so worried, please," she reiterated. "Their relationship was unhealthy. Philip gave her the world, but she always wanted more. It took a toll on him."

"And what makes you think I'm any better?" you asked skeptically.

"Because he doesn't think you're perfect."

You furrowed your brow. "What?"

"I promise, that's a good thing," she assured you, but you weren't so confident in her words. She looked entertained at how taken aback you clearly were. In what world was that 'good'? "The reason none of his other relationships lasted was because he saw the women with rose-colored glasses. And I don't blame him; it happens."

"So, he's thought everyone else he dated was perfect?"

She nodded sagely. "He realizes that there are drawbacks to your relationship, love. There are drawbacks to any relationship, of course."

"Well, yeah."

"But he can actually see them, with you. And he still wants you. Don't discount that." She sounded wholly confident in her argument, but you only pursed your lips.

After a moment, she added, "He has a bad record of putting girls on pedestals. But I think he sees you for what you are."

"Someone with a lot of drawbacks?" Your gaze was still disbelieving as you eyed her, but she laughed.

"Well, I suppose." She turned to you. "But someone that's still worth it."

"Oh. Well, that's good, I guess." Your voice was soft, and Peggy squeezed your shoulder affectionately.

"It's rare, too. He's lucky to have found you." You pursed your lips. "So he'd better treat you right, or I'll set him straight. Just call up old Aunt Peggy; I've got your back."

The severity in her tone made you laugh, and she cracked a smile at your reaction. "I'll keep it in mind," you quipped. She nodded approvingly, and your smile was soft as she drained the remainder of her wine from her glass. "Thanks, Peggy."

"My pleasure."

Your eyes had wandered back to the window as you spoke, finding Philip easily as he crossed the yard with Georges and his wife, Emilie. They were talking enthusiastically; what they were saying was beyond you, but he laughed as Georges gave him a playful shove, and Emilie rolled her eyes at whatever he said next.

You didn't quite realize how soft your gaze was as you watched him, but Peggy did.

Moments later, when Philip happened to glance in your direction, he looked surprised to see you sitting there, but he grinned when he met your eyes. He gave you a short, timid wave, and you nodded back in greeting, the corners of your lips upturned. However, the interaction just drew Georges's attention to where you'd hidden yourself away, and when he saw you, his greeting was far more dramatic, waving, gesturing for you to come back out, apparently shouting something at you from outside (without a care in the world about the fact that you couldn't hear him). You couldn't help but laugh outright, returning his wave, and Georges turned to Philip. Whatever he said when he nudged him just made Philip shake his head, apparently exasperated.

"Do you love him?"

"What?" You turned with a start; Peggy's voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you felt like a deer caught in headlights. "Oh, I, um– Well–" You cut yourself off as she raised a concerned eyebrow, and you blinked hard, forced a smile as you gathered your bearings. "I mean... yeah. Of course."

You swallowed hard; how nervous you were was clearly apparent, and Peggy rested a hand on your arm, wearing an apologetic smile. "Oh, lord, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that," she said. "I just assumed, y'know, after two years together, you two would've said that by now." When you pursed your lips, she was quick to backtrack. "And not that you should've! It's perfectly alright that you haven't."

"No, no, I mean, we have, I just..." you trailed off, unsure exactly how to justify your reaction. Peggy's dark brow knit.

"Then what's got you so nervous to confirm it? You two aren't having problems, are you?"

"No," was all you said, but there wasn't much conviction in your tone. When you met Peggy's gaze, you were relieved to see that the look in her eye wasn't of skepticism but was instead of concern.

"That answer sounded like it came with stipulations, love."

"No, it didn't," you assured her, but she raised an eyebrow. A beat passed. You swallowed hard. "It's just... how do you know if you love someone?"

Peggy tilted her head to one side. "Have you never been in love before?"

"I mean, I have," you acquiesced, and when you didn't go on, she filled the silence.

"So don't you know what it feels like when you're in love, then?"

"It's just... been a while." Your gaze drifted down to the printed rug before the couch, focus suddenly on how the toes of your shoes sank into the plush fabric. Peggy rested a hand on your shoulder.

"Is everything alright?"

You swallowed hard, gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah. Yeah, it is, really."

"You can talk to me, y'know. I won't go spilling your business to the family."

"Yeah?"

"Of course."

"Well," you started, turning away from Peggy, gaze unfocused, "I don't know how I feel about Philip, honestly."

"You're sure there's no issue between you two?"

"It's nothing he's done," you said softly, and after you swallowed hard, you finally admitted, "but... I'm a widow. I haven't been with anyone else since my late husband, and it's been years, now."

"You're a widow?" she repeated, and you nodded.

"We married young. But since he passed, I..." You shrugged, feeling tears welling in the corners of your eyes. As you wiped them away, you offered her a weak smile in an effort to ease how silly you were feeling. "I mean, that was my last serious relationship. It's been hard to figure out how to proceed from there."

"I'm so sorry," Peggy said softly, and the concerned look she wore was genuine. "Come here."

She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side where you sat, and you gave her a grateful smile. "You're sweet, but I'm fine, honestly. It's been so long. But it might've left me with just a little fear of attachment."

"You poor thing; I can't imagine," she said, rubbing your upper back comfortingly. "But it's alright that you feel like this; you shouldn't feel guilty about being slower to open up."

"I didn't say I felt guilty."

"Do you?"

A long moment passed in silence, and eventually, you said softly, "...I mean, honestly? Yeah. It sucks to not be able to figure out what it is I'm feeling. I… I can’t help but think Philip deserves better."

"We've all been there at one time or another. Don't beat yourself up."

"How did you know you loved your husband?" you asked, and she pursed her lips, thought on it for a moment.

"Well, I'm certainly no relationship expert, so take this with a grain of salt," she said, "but I've told quite a number of people I loved them in all my life, and it took me quite a few failed romances to figure out which ones were real."

"Then how did you decide what love actually was?" you asked hesitantly, and Peggy's gaze was absent, faraway, but her smile was tender.

"I realized I was in love when being with them meant more to me than my freedom," she said. "That's why they never lasted. I spent my twenties traveling the world, jumping from job to job and partner to partner."

"'Partner to partner'?" you interjected, an eyebrow raised.

She shrugged. "Partner, significant other, whatever you kids are calling it these days."

"We say boyfriend, usually."

She gave you an amused smile with that, though, turning to again meet your gaze. "Oh, no, you misunderstand me," she replied frankly. "They were rarely men."

"Oh!" Your eyebrows shot up. "Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to assume—"

"That's just fine. No need to apologize." She shrugged, but she looked entertained at how panicked you were, immediately trying to backtrack. "But anyway, I was only willing to settle down with my husband when keeping my lifestyle would've meant losing him."

Your smile was soft. "That's sweet."

"Oh, is it?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Well, good. I half expected you to think I was talking nonsense."

Her candid surprise made you laugh. "No, I appreciate it. It's been nice to have someone to talk to about all this."

"I'm glad." She nudged your arm lightly, wearing a small smile. "And I know you'll be fine. Take as much time as you need to figure it out; I have a feeling Philip will be there waiting for you in the end."

-----

You didn't go back outside after that.

The weight of everything you'd just unloaded onto his aunt hit you like a freight train, and her words stuck with you. You were second-guessing everything that'd happened that weekend, replaying all the little things you took for granted: the enigmatic advice Georges had apparently given Philip when you first arrived at your office all those years ago; what his niece had heard him saying about you. His teasing comments, the stolen glances, the accidental, fleeting touches that lasted just a moment longer than they should've. It all added up to one larger picture that you weren't sure you wanted to see.

And your theory that you were there to make his ex jealous was blown wide open the minute you found out Philip had been the one to end things with Henriette. (No wonder she'd been trying to trudge up their old memories.)

You refused to think any further than that; you knew the conclusions you'd have to draw would make all this so much more real. And that thought scared you more than anything.

You were pacing the halls of the Hamiltons' first floor. The only reason you finally went upstairs was because one too many cousins had asked you where you were going — you’d been telling people you were headed up to get something from Philip’s room for nearly the past half hour.

That was how you found yourself seated on the end of Philip's bed, reeling from the afternoon's events.

You did retrieve something from your suitcase, ultimately. The deep-red, velveteen box was soft under your fingertips as you played with it anxiously, picking at the sides but never quite working up the nerve to open it. It wasn’t like it’d been that long since you opened it, either; it couldn’t have been more than a week, but this time, when you flicked it open, staring down at the gold band and its tiny diamond felt different.

What would John think if he could see you there?

Patsy was convinced he’d only want you to be happy, and that he wouldn’t mind who you were with. She’d tell you it was time to move on with your life. But did moving on have to mean leaving him behind?

And falling for someone else felt like abandonment of the worst kind. It felt like you were cheating on him, like you and he were falling out of love. As much as you still missed him, as much as you grieved for him, every day, the memory of what it felt like to be his slipped further away from your grasp.

You ran your fingers over the cold metal of the ring, and your hands shook as you slipped it onto your ring finger. For a fleeting moment, you could almost convince yourself that you were still somebody’s wife.

Light footsteps padded down the hall outside Philip’s room, and they were quiet enough that they didn’t snap you out of your reverie until the door’s hinges creaked. Your heart stopped.

And to your relief, the person who opened the door was just six-year-old William.

“Philip, are you…” He trailed off when he saw you on Philip’s bed, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Oh! Did you see Philip in here?”

“Hey, William,” you said, but your accompanying laugh held a hint of anxiety. “Philip isn’t up here; sorry. Last I saw him, he was out in the backyard.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Can you help me find him? Daddy needs him, but I don’t wanna make him sad ‘cause I don’t know where Pip is. I think he’s hiding from us.”

“Yeah, sure; I’d love to help,” you answered, and your endeared smile was candid. His determination was almost making you forget about your ring entirely.

“Thank you.” He seemed more than ready to drag you out of Philip’s bedroom, watching you eagerly as you hesitated to stand and go with him. You’d hoped he’d go ahead and let you catch up with him momentarily, but he stood there and watched you expectantly where you sat on the bed, and you apparently had two options: take the ring off then and hope William didn’t realize it was a wedding ring, or wear it out and hope you can find a time to hide it discreetly. The only issue was that you had no pocket to leave it in.

“No problem; let’s go.” You ended up choosing the former. William’s eyes didn’t leave you as you popped the ring’s box back open, and when you heard him gasp, your miscalculation became obvious.

“Is that a wedding ring?” he asked, and your eyes widened.

“No! No, it… I mean yes, but—”

“When did you and Pip get married?” Oh, fuck. Your pulse was pushing into overdrive. “Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding? What about Mama and Pops?”

“We didn’t… we didn’t not invite you, but—”

“But I wasn’t there.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, stifling a groan when he wore a deep frown. “Did your parents come?”

“No, they—”

“Why didn’t you and Pip tell us?” he asked. “It was a special location.”

Special loca…? “Special occasion?”

“That’s what I said.” He wore a pout. “Well, now we’ve gotta go tell everyone, c’mon.”

He turned and started running, and you swallowed hard. Oh, shit.

“Wait, William, come back!” you called after him, and you scowled when he didn’t stop. You had to finish putting the ring away before you could start after him — going back out to his family with it would only spell disaster. “William?”

By the time you took the ring off, tucked its box back into your suitcase, it seemed he was out of earshot. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, he was nowhere to be found; he’d weaved between his family members’ legs until he was out of sight.

Well, you were certainly, thoroughly fucked.

You began to wade through the crowd in the kitchen, eyes darting around the floor for any sign of a retreating William, going through room after room to no avail, but your heart rate was steadily increasing with every moment you didn’t find him.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes until one of Philip’s family members approached you.

“Y/N?” Frances Laurens— no, Frances Henderson, who’d taken her husband’s name the previous summer, approached you from behind, and you spun around abruptly in surprise. “Hey, when were you going to tell us that you and Philip were engaged?”

Your throat tightened. “What?”

“William just told us.” She nudged you with a lopsided grin. “Congrats; welcome to the family.”

“Oh, no, there’s been a misunderstanding—”

“Wait, you’re getting married?” The William who interjected into your conversation was, unfortunately, not the one you were looking for. Instead, you followed the voice to find the younger Mulligan son standing with a beer.

“No, no, it’s not like… William just— well, not you William, William Hamilton—”

“Hey, William just told me you and Philip were finally getting married. What made you decide to tie the knot?” That was Georges, and your head jerked in his direction.

“Oh, thank god there’s going to be another woman at family dinners when he’s in town.” Angelica Hamilton approached from your left.

“Wait, what? Do you have a date for the wedding?” You hadn’t a clue which of the Lafayette sisters that was (well, you knew it wasn’t Henriette). “You better invite all of us. You might need a big venue to fit the whole family.”

Oh, god, you were in deep. It seemed William had managed to do quite a bit of damage without a whole lot of time.

“I need to talk to Philip,” you said, voice breathy. You knew you sounded winded, but his family all wore wide grins, patting you on the back or squeezing your shoulders — the Hamilton-Schuyler-Lafayette-Laurens-Mulligans were certainly a touchy-feely bunch.

“Yeah, where is your fiancé?” Georges asked, scanning the room.

“He’s not—”

“Hey, Philip!” It seemed he’d found him, yelling across the dining room, and Philip started toward you with his hands in his pockets, watching the crowd that’d formed around you curiously. “You ever planning on telling us you proposed? Or were you gonna wait till you had your firstborn, huh?”

Georges’s grin was wide as he shoved Philip affectionately, but Philip’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“William spilled everything. Congrats, you two,” Frances said, and when Philip met your eyes, you looked defeated.

“Oh, did he?”

“Relax, we’re all excited for you. No one’s mad that you hid it.” Apparently, you weren’t the only one who heard the tension in Philip’s voice as he glanced between you and Angelica warily, and she squeezed your upper arm with a smile. “It’s great news.”

“Yeah, no wonder you finally brought her home.” The Mulligan son— shit, his name was escaping you. Was it Wyatt? Winston? No, shit, what were you thinking? He was also William; how the hell did you forget—?

“I’m sorry, what exactly did Will tell you?” Philip asked hesitantly.

“He saw Y/N with the ring a little while ago. Not sure why you decided to hide such big news from us, but—”

“Right, can I have a word with my fiancée real quick?” He met your eyes with an urgent look, and you winced. “In private?”

“Oh, c’mon, it was an honest mistake; don’t be too hard on her,” Georges said. “Does it really matter? We were gonna find out anyway, so—”

“We’ll be back down in a bit.” Philip spoke through clenched teeth as he cut Georges off, walking toward you, and he grabbed you by the bicep, grip tight as he pulled you toward the doorway. Your breath caught when you stumbled forward. You were out of earshot before any of his family members could get another word in, and you struggled to keep pace with his long strides as he continued toward the staircase.

“Come on.” His voice was low when you reached the home’s entrance hall, and when he started upstairs to his room, you were quick to follow him. He locked the door behind you.

A moment passed in silence as he turned around to face you. The tension in the air was thicker than your ass.

He folded his arms.

“Care to explain why my entire family thinks we’re engaged?”

“It’s…” You rubbed your forehead as though it’d relieve your throbbing headache. “It was an accident. I swear it was; William just… he saw me with a ring, and he thought—”

“Why the hell did he think we were getting married? What’d you tell him?” Philip’s voice was rising as he spoke, and you had to swallow the lump building in your throat.

“I didn’t tell him we were engaged,” you defended. “I was just putting my ring back in its box, and he made an assumption. That’s it.”

“What ring?” he asked. “You aren’t wearing a ring. I haven’t seen you with a ring all fucking weekend. Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Of course not.” You huffed. “What, do you think I did this on purpose? That I wanted your family to think we were engaged?”

“I don’t know, did you?”

“No; why would I?”

“Oh, be honest, Y/N. You just agreed to come home with me this weekend so that you could fuck with me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry, do you really believe I’m just here to make your life harder? That I want to push you deeper into your stupid fucking lie?” you asked incredulously. “I came to cover for you. Because you told them we’d been together for two years.”

He scoffed. “Please, like you wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to mess with my personal life. Let’s face it; we both know you’ve never liked me.”

“We weren’t friends, but I’ve never had any sort of vendetta against you.” Your scowl deepened, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“You told me that you were the one person in our office who hated me. Word-for-word,” he retorted. “Did you do this to get back at me for using you as my fake girlfriend?”

“I don’t hate you.” He didn’t think that it was reasonable for your tone to be that defensive. “I've never hated you; I… I was just being dramatic. And even if I did have it out for you, I wouldn’t do this to your family.”

“Then why didn’t you tell William that we weren’t engaged?” he asked. “Hm? What the hell happened that my entire family managed to learn that you’d told him we were getting married in all of five minutes?”

“I tried to tell him we weren’t, but he was asking about the ring, and—”

“You should’ve told him it wasn’t an engagement ring!”

“I tried to! He asked if it was a wedding ring, though, and…” Your voice trailed off. The smallest shreds of a sob were building in your throat, and you were trying to speak through them, but your chest was tightening.

“And you didn’t set him straight?”

“It was a wedding ring, Philip. He stopped me before I could explain that we weren’t getting married, and by the time I could go after him, he was already downstairs. I lost him in the kitchen; I couldn’t stop him,” you said. “I swear, I tried to prevent this.”

A moment passed in silence. His gaze was absent, fixed on the floor, and he was shaking his head ever-so-slightly in disbelief.

“Why’d you have a wedding ring if you didn’t come here planning to fuck up my family life? If you didn’t wanna bury me further in this stupid lie I told to get my family off my back?” he asked. “Were you wearing the wedding ring?”

You nodded. “He came in, and I tried to hide it before coming downstairs, but—”

“Why the hell were you wearing a wedding ring?”

“I only put it on for a minute!”

“Why do you even have one? And why would you bring it home this weekend?”

“It’s…” Your jaw ached as you tried to keep yourself from crying. You blinked back the tears that stung the corners of your eyes and sat on the edge of his bed. You didn’t want him to see the old emotions that were breaking loose. “It’s old. I got it years ago.”

“What? Why?” The incredulity in his voice was making you cringe, and he threw his hands up in frustration. “What am I supposed to do with this, Y/N? You really expect me to believe that you wearing a wedding ring around my family was completely innocent? That you didn’t—?”

“I’m a widow, Philip.” You nearly had to shout to be loud enough to cut him off, and while he’d begun pacing in agitation, your words made him freeze.

He turned to you. “...You what?”

“I’m a widow,” you repeated softly, and his wide eyes met yours as he saw the tears building in them.

“I…” He started to reply, but his voice faltered. All the anger had been wiped from his expression, replaced quickly with surprise, apology, worry. “Shit, Y/N. I… fuck, I’m sorry, I had no idea.” His voice was quiet.

“Don’t be. You couldn’t have known.” You wiped at your left eye when the first tear rolled down your cheek. “It’s not like I ever talked about it.”

When he took a seat beside you on the bed, his hand came tentatively to cover yours. You drew in a shuddering breath. “Still. I’m sorry I… well, that I blew up like that. I didn’t mean to bring up your past like this; I—”

“It’s fine, Philip. Really.” You laced your fingers into his, squeezed his hand reassuringly. “No one expects a 26-year-old to be a widow. I don’t blame you.”

He nodded when you glanced up at him, and goosebumps ran up your arm when he swept his thumb over the back of your hand. “What was his name?” he asked quietly, and you pursed your lips.

“John.” You sniffled. “We met in high school, got married just after we graduated college.” Although you paused, he didn’t say anything, giving you room to pause, take a breath, and you knew that if you wanted to go on, he was there to listen. “We… god, we were so happy, for a while. I followed him to New York for college; I swore I’d never plan my life around a man, and I knew he wouldn’t ask me to, but I didn’t want to live without him. I was so sure that we wouldn’t break up, so I didn’t think we had anything to lose.”

Your voice was devolving into a croak as you went on, and you had to swallow your whimper when you came dangerously close to crying. He could hear your words breaking.

It caught you off guard when Philip wrapped an arm around your waist, pulled you into his side. The action was hesitant, and his grip on you was soft; he half expected you to recoil from his touch, but when you pulled closer, leaned against him, he held you close.

“He died almost two years after we graduated,” you murmured, cheek pressed against Philip’s shoulder. His shirt was damp from your slow, silent tears. “No one saw it coming. He was shot when someone broke into our house. It all happened in less than an hour, and then he was gone.”

Your voice broke altogether with your final few words. You could no longer keep down the sob in your throat, try as you might to keep speaking through it. You drew in a shuddering breath, but when you exhaled, you were crying audibly, tears flowing freely. “Shit, I… I didn’t mean to dump all of this onto you. You didn’t need to know all my…” —you hiccuped— “all my stupid fucking trauma, but—”

“Shh, relax. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured you, and the warmth rising in your chest wasn’t something you wanted to be able to explain when he turned toward you on the bed, wrapped his other arm around the back of your shoulders and pulled you into him. “C’mere. I’ve got you.”

As much as you were caught in your head, struggling to claw your way out of the memories you’d buried yourself in, you couldn’t have been more present in that moment. Philip smelled like the sun, like freshly-washed cotton, like lazy mornings after a long night of sleep; he smelled like something you couldn’t describe as anything other than warm.

And so you let yourself cry. You didn’t explain anything further; he wasn’t going to ask, didn’t need to know how you’d moved across the city within a week of John’s funeral to get away from everything that felt so painfully like him. He wasn’t going to pry. If you wanted to talk, wanted to tell him anything, needed someone who was just there to listen, that was your prerogative, and he wouldn’t try to force it. You were free to take your time, safe in his arms.

He rubbed your upper back, and your eyes fell shut.

“Thanks for being here,” you mumbled against the scratchy material of his button-down. “I… I’m sorry I made such a damn mess of your family life. I didn’t mean to; I swear, I—” You were cut off by a hiccup, a shuddering sob, and he held the side of your head against his chest, stroking your hair absentmindedly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You did nothing wrong. I’m gonna be just fine, alright? It’s you I’m worried about.”

You wore a watery smile at his words. “You’re too nice. I… I fucked up, and you don’t have to pretend you’re alright with it.”

“I’m fine. Honest.” Only when your breathing evened out did he lean back, lift your chin to look at him. He offered you a small, lopsided smile. “So, I guess we’re gonna have to go back down there and tell my parents we’re engaged, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“Don’t look so sad, princess; this is supposed to be a celebration.” The guilt weighing on your shoulders must’ve been written across your face, and as he nudged you lightly, his words made you laugh.

“Mmh, we’ve really hit a relationship milestone, haven’t we?”

“Looks like it,” he said. “So, what’s the story? How’d I propose? Was it oh-so-touching, or did I butcher it ‘cause I was an emotional mess?”

“Well, you had a whole speech prepared,” you informed him, and he raised an amused eyebrow.

“I did?”

“You did.” You nodded. “Only problem was that when you got down on one knee, you were crying too hard to be able to actually get through it. You were just so moved by how beautiful I looked that night, and you couldn’t keep your feelings in check when you thought about spending the rest of your life with me.”

“You sound like you’ve really thought this out,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’ve been fantasizing about it. I know how incredible and attractive I am, but I didn’t think we were on that level yet.”

“Of course not. Don’t worry.” You couldn’t contain your entertained grin. “This was all Theo’s fantasy that she told me while you were ignoring her. She’s still really convinced it’ll happen, so I guess now you have an instruction manual for your engagement with her.”

That made him laugh outright. “When Theo and I get engaged?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Now you’re really talking nonsense.” He shook his head, but as he eyed your expression, the tear tracks on your face, his brow furrowed with concern. “...Are you alright, Y/N?”

You nodded, swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” The calloused pad of his thumb ran over your cheek, wiped your tears away, and you found yourself staring. The look in his dark eyes was heavy; god, you could’ve drowned in it, and his eyes were watering, too, no doubt from watching you cry, from seeing how much pain you were in, how deep your grief ran.

He wished he could take that all away from you. If he could shoulder the burden for you, no matter how heavy, he’d have done it in a split second — even if you didn’t want him, even if you’d never look at him in the same way that he looked at you, he knew you, and he knew you didn’t deserve to suffer like this. He cleaned the smeared mascara from under your eyes with the end of his sleeve as though somehow, some way, that could alleviate your suffering.

And you couldn’t see all of that. But you saw how he looked at you. That much was unmistakable.

He held you as though, if he let go, you might break, and in that moment, part of you felt like you might. He’d never thought he’d really be holding you like that.

But there was so much care in his gentle gaze, although you had no way to know all that was going on beneath it. You felt safe, safer than you’d felt in a long time as he rubbed circles into the small of your back, shifting you onto his lap, and he was so close, his face just inches from yours. If you leaned forward just a little, you could kiss him.

And when your gaze trailed down to his lips, downturned in a concerned frown, as consumed in you as every other part of him, you did. You finally took the opportunity presented to you, and you didn’t intend to let yourself continue to squander it.

Sitting on his lap at the end of his bed, you kissed him.

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ech0lalias · 3 years ago

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Tag game - Tag 9 people you’d like to know better!

Tagged by @rosegold-darling thank u for tagging me 😭

Favorite Color: i love fuchsia and turquoise

Currently Reading: Lost in Time by Forever a Thief ITS SO CUTE!! i didn't realize i needed din djarin adopting fives, rex and cody as kids until now im crying reading this and totally recommend! also looking for any and all rexsoka recs you can throw my way im always in the mood for good rexsoka fics!!!

Last Series: im trying to finish watching the last season of SW rebels but i just... don't really vibe with the show for the most part, unfortunately. so its taking me longer than usual to finish it.

Last Movie: Denis Villeneuve's recent Dune adaptation. It's only the first part of the first book but its looking good, also recommend.

Sweet/Spicy: I LOVE BOTH!?!? but if really pressed i guess... sweet.

Currently Working On: ahum... on trying to draw again and pretending i know anything about writing honestly idk im not a great creator. other than that im working on my diet and getting my drivers license!

Tagging: anyone who wants to do this i dont have a lot of mutuals so hmm

#tag game #ty for tagging me that was sweet i saw it last night but only remembered to do it now!

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hannie-dul-set · 5 years ago

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THE PUHON PLAYLIST.

— twenty three hearts. twenty three songs. twenty three stories.

SUMMARY | a collection of fics for all members of nct2020! all the fics will be centered around ben&ben songs, but even if you don’t know them, you can still read! the lengths may vary, and this collection is gonna be on shuffle meaning there is no order for the updates HDJFH and there’s also no order for you to read hehe i’ll be providing translations and links to the songs as well ^^

SCHEDULE | there is no schedule. puhon means “in god’s time” so i’ll also be updating and finishing this in god’s time <3

STATUS | ongoing! (3/23)

TAGLIST | send me an ask/dm if you wanna be tagged for all of the fics, or you can specify the ones that you want to be added in (please inform me if you wanna be removed too!)

MOON TAEIL | LEAVES [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | it's the first time you've met someone so carefree— so unapologetically himself. the first meeting, you were annoyed. the second, maybe he wasn't that bad. and the third, fourth, fifth came until you realize that maybe that's what you've been needing all this time. GENRE | office! au, strangers to lovers! au, angst (of course), romance, fluff, humor WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "leaves will soon grow from the bareness of trees // and all will be alright in time // from waves overgrown come the calmest of seas // and all will be alright in time // ohh you never really love someone until you learn to forgive"

SEO JOHNNY | NAKIKINIG KA BA SA AKIN? [coming soon!]

(ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?) SUMMARY | political marriages were unavoidable in royalty. it's always what's the best for the nation and not the best for you. you and johnny knew this when your engagement was announced, but one tries his best making things work out, while the other tries her best to avoid the unavoidable. GENRE | modern royal! au, arranged marriage! au, one sided e2l, romance, angst, fluff WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “sasalubungin kita sa dulo ng 'yong galit” + “nakikinig ka ba sa akin? // hindi kita gustong awayin // pareho ang ating hangarin // ang kadiliman ay basagin" ("i will meet you at the end of your anger" + "are you listening to me? // i don't wish to fight you // we both dream of the same thing")

LEE TAEYONG | PAALAM [coming soon!]

(GOODBYE) SUMMARY | there are five stages in moving on, but taeyong can’t seem to get past the first stage. that is until his friend johnny introduced him to you— self proclaimed heart doctor and a professional at helping people let go. there are also five stages in falling in love, but you found yourself falling through all five stages quicker than you’d expected, and for someone that you know that you shouldn’t be falling for. GENRE | strangers to lovers! au, a dash of unrequited love but happy ending don’t worry, angst angst angst, romance, fluff WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “ba't 'di man lang nagpaalam? // oh, 'di lang ikaw 'yung nasaktan // hindi pa ba sapat // nung binigay ko ang lahat?” + “at kahit 'di nagpaalam // 'di bale na kung nasaktan // ika'y naging sapat // kahit tinapon ang lahat // paalam” ("why didn't you even say goodbye? // you're not the only one that got hurt // was it not enough // when i gave you everything?" + "and even if you didn't say goodbye // nevermind that we've been hurt // you were enough // even if we threw everything away // goodbye")

NAKAMOTO YUTA | DOORS [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | yuta was loud, open, and unafraid to relay anything that's on his mind. you were not. quiet, reserved,and preferred to keep things to yourself, even while you two were together. people asked yuta how did the both of you manage to stay together this long— from the last year of high school until now in college, and he'd always answer with a smile that you're kind, understanding, patient, and oh wait— that's all he really knew about you, didn't he? GENRE | college! au, established relationship! au, yuta is a loud dumbass while you’re a quiet dumbass, very heartwarming growth of the relationship jdhfjd, romance, fluff, minimal angst maybe WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "i won't ever know what's on your mind // if you'll always be hidin' behind // words you never mean, just to be kind // will there ever be no more of your secret doors?"

QIAN KUN | MASYADO PANG MAAGA [coming soon!]

(TOO EARLY) SUMMARY | italy— the land of love, as they say. of course, that was only a saying, kun knew well of that. he wasn't expecting to actually fall in love on the cobblestone streets of the country, but things always happen when you least expect it. he didn't expect you to leave as quickly as you came, either. GENRE | pain just pain, tourist! au, strangers to lovers to strangers <//3, romance, angst, fluff WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “parang kay bilis ng iyong pag-alis // teka lang, teka lang, teka lang muna // sa'n nagkamali? // pwede bang bumawi?” + “na minahal kita higit pa sa sarili ko?” ("why did it take no time // for you to leave // please, please, please wait a while // where did i go wrong? // can i make up for it?" + "that i loved you more than i love myself")

KIM DOYOUNG | MITSA [coming soon!]

(CANDLE WICK) SUMMARY | once a candle wick has died, no matter how much you try to light it up, it will never ignite again. the only thing you can do is light another candle and hope it doesn't die the same way. GENRE | actor! au, fake dating! au (kind of but not quite hehe), angst very angsty, romance, fluff, light ending <33 WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “'pag wala na naman tayong nararamdaman // ay mabuti pang itigil na'ng kunwa-kunwari lang // 'pag wala na naman din itong pupuntahan // ay mabuti pang sabihin na'ng salamat // salamat” ("if we don't feel anything for each other anymore // it's better to just stop pretending // if this won't go anywhere // it's better to just say thank you, thank you")

TEN LEE | BRANCHES [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | things that are forbidden always taste the sweetest, always bring the most excitement. maybe that's why adam and eve couldn't help but eat the fruit from the garden of eden. and maybe that was also why you couldn't get enough of the boy you met at the masquerade party, and why you couldn't find it in you to let him go. GENRE | romeo and juliet! au, strangers to lovers! au, secret relationship (obviusly djf), romance, angst, suggestive, fluff, they do not die don’t worry WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "was a fire and you were gold // said we'd ignite until we're old + "you and i were meant to be // branches of different trees"

JUNG JAEHYUN | MAKE IT WITH YOU [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | jung jaehyun had always been a part of your life one way or another. from just someone you know as you pass by your high school corridors, to having the same mutual friend in college, and now possibly one of the closest people that you have in your life. he's always been there, and you didn't want him to step out of your life any time soon (and neither did he). GENRE | friends to lovers! au, mutual pining, romance, fluff, a dash of angst, suggestive WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "life can be short or long // love can be right or wrong // and if i chose the one i'd like to help me through // i'd like to make it with you"

DONG SICHENG | HUMMINGBIRD [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | summers at ten's lakehouse were always a mess. the moment he was taken in by the fresh winds of nature, he already started wondering how far south would things go. even more so when he finds that ten had invited a couple more familiar faces this year. one being far too familiar for his liking. or, wherein sicheng swears he's over you, but a humming in his head says otherwise. GENRE | exes to lovers! au (sorta, you’ll understand soon), summer! au, angst angst angst, romance, a couple of bad decisions WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "but one half of my senses // silently wishes // you were still with me" + "hummingbird // beating of your wings still echoes in my mind // hummingbird // somewhere in me singing // wish we could rewind"

KIM JUNGWOO | TALAARAWAN [coming soon!]

(DIARY) SUMMARY | jungwoo wasn't the same shy kid as he was in high school, a dreamer that could only imagine the what if's because taking the dive is terrifying. but now he's different, and he's determined to make the dreams that he wrote on the pages of his diary into reality. thank god that his high school reunion is coming soon. GENRE | some high school! au, the one that got away (oof), friends(ish?) to lovers! au, romance, humor, fluff WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “bakit hindi ko mahinto // ang pagsara ng 'yong pinto? // pakiusap, sandali lang” + “pakibalik naman, konting minutong nakaraan // 'di magawang pakawalan // talaarawan” ("why can't i stop the closing of your door? // hold on, just a moment" + "can you bring back those small moments in the past? // can't find it in my to let them go // talaarawan")

WONG YUHKEI | FALL [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | the feeling for meeting your soulmate for the first time is once in a lifetime. but with lucas, you get to experience that every single day and you're sure that you could never get enough of it. GENRE | soulmate! au, FLUFF so much fluff, romance, lucas is a cassanova but only for u, humor WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "so why don't we fall in love tonight // 'cause everything else just feels so right // and i just want to hold you tight // so why don't we just fall"

MARK LEE | BIBINGKA

SUMMARY | legend says that if you finish all nine night masses of simbang gabi, your wish will be granted. mark only hopes that it’s actually true because that’s his last and only chance in getting you to notice him (but wait— shouldn’t his wish only come true after the nine days?) GENRE | christmas! au, crush! au, lots of fluff, mark is a piner, mark is also very awkward, some filipino references and customs WARNINGS | swearing, religious themes PROMPTS | “pagdating ng ama namin, ang oras huminto // nang magkahawak ang ating mga kamay // umawit mga ulap at sabay // nagsiawit ang mga anghel sa langit” + “pero mula nu'ng unang ama namin na // ang iyong kamay ay hinawakan // 'di mo na binitawan” (the our father came, and time stopped // when our hands touched // the skies sang and the angels in heaven sang together” + “but ever since the first our father, i held your hand // and you never let go of it”)

XIAO DEJUN | GODSENT [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | an unknown illness has struck earth, eating away at a person’s memories, emotions, and feelings until a hollow husk is left. dejun’s heart falls apart when it got to you, and t’s hard to keep himself together when your memories of him and you start to fall apart. the only hope he can keep holding onto is the light in your eyes. GENRE | established relationship! au, pure angst xiaojun i’m sorry, some romance and fluff into the mix WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "god sent those eyes // to get me through the night" + "when all the memories in my head subside // you'll remain here // you'll remain dear inside"

WONG KUNHANG | LIFETIME [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | due to a mistake that he made centuries ago, hendery is forced to live through lifetimes being intertwined with you— only to see you fall in love with someone other than him in each life. never yours, but he once was. GENRE | fantasy! au?, angst (obviously), maybe romance and fluff if you squint. WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "was there a lifetime waiting for us in a world where i was yours? // was it the wrong time, what if we tried giving in a little more? // i'd spend a lifetime waiting in vain just to go back to the way we were before"

HUANG RENJUN | ROOTS [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | huang renjun. the very name brings venom to your veins. you loathed him, and he detested you. it was a mutual understanding built up on hate that went on for over ten years of your lives, but no matter how much you wanted to avoid each other, fate would still manage to spiral the both of you together. until the moment that actually happens and somehow it just feels wrong. GENRE | enemies to lovers! au, angst, romance, fluff, a bunch of emotionaly dense motherfuckers WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "lives have grown roots around each other // we both know the truth is we don't really care // to find any room to doubt each other // we're tied by the roots of whatever we shared"

LEE JENO | PAGTINGIN [coming soon!]

(HOW YOU LOOK AT ME) SUMMARY | it is an unspoken, universal rule that you shouldn't catch feelings for one of your brother's best friends. but what were you supposed to do when cupid decides to shoot you down with all of his arrows? leaving you absolutely enamored for the smiley eyed boy that you see way too often for your heart's safety. GENRE | brothers best friend, brother! renjun, years and years of pining oh my gosh, romance, fluff, some angst WARNING | tbd PROMPTS | “dami pang gustong sabihin // ngunit 'wag na lang muna // hintayin na lang ang hanging // tangayin ang salita” + “'pag nilahad ang damdamin // sana 'di magbago ang pagtingin” ("there are a lot of things that i'd like to say // but i'll keep it to myself for now // i'll just wait for the wind to carry all my thoughts aloud" + "if i lay out my feelings for you // i hope you won't change how you look at me")

LEE DONGHYUCK | KATHANG ISIP

SUMMARY | musings of the mind and heart are always dangerous— it's easy to get carried away and get lost in your made up scenarios, rose colored wishes, and fleeting daydreams of what you thought would be. that is until reality hits you like the crashing of an ocean's waves. GENRE | roommates! au, college! au, flirty donghyuck, it’s bittersweet, angst, romance, fluff WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “bawat kilig na nadarama sa tuwing hawak ang iyong kamay // ito'y maling akala, isang malaking sablay” + “pasensya ka na sa mga kathang isip kong ito // wari'y dala lang ng pagmamahal sa iyo” ("every thrill i felt while i was holding you hand // it was just a wrong assumption" + "i'm sorry for all these delusions of mine // i guess i was just carried away by my love for you")

NA JAEMIN | ARAW-ARAW

(EVERY DAY) SUMMARY | mahiwaga— someone or something that you’ll choose every single day no matter the circumstance. and for you, that was na jaemin. even if time decides to set you apart. GENRE | childhood friends to lovers! au, college! au, romance, slow-ish burn, fluff, humor, tiny angst, biology major jaemin and art major mc HEHE WARNINGS | excessive swearing, insecurities, some sex jokes LMAO, i project a lot in this i’m sorry PROMPTS | “kay tagal ko nang nag-iisa // and'yan ka lang pala // mahiwaga, pipiliin ka sa araw-araw // mahiwaga, ang nadarama sa 'yo'y malinaw” + “payapa sa yakap ng iyong hiwaga” (”been alone for so long // but you were just there all along // mahiwaga, i’ll choose you everyday // mahiwaga, what i feel for you is as clear as day + “at peace in the embrace of your magic”)

LIU YANGYANG | RIDE HOME [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | it’s hellweek and you’re hellbent on finishing all your deadlines this weekend. but yangyang had a different idea, and it took you two rest stops too many to agree that his was the better one. or, wherein the ride home didn’t actually feel like a ride home because you've been with him all this time. GENRE | roadtrip! au, best friends to lovers! au, there is only one bed (the works), fluff, romance, maybe some angst, humor WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "so i'm coming home to you, you // you're all i need, the very air i breathe // you are home" + "when i'm with you home is never too far"

OSAKI SHOTARO | MAYBE THE NIGHT [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | high school dances are always fun unless you get stood up by your date. lucky for you, you weren't the only unlucky soul tonight. GENRE | prom! au, high school! au, fluff, romance WARNINGS | tbd. PROMPTS | "moon has never glowed this color // hearts have never been this close // i have never been more certain // i will love you 'til we're old" + "maybe the night holds a little hope for us, dear"

JUNG SUNGCHAN | SA SUSUNOD NA HABANG-BUHAY [coming soon!]

(IN THE NEXT LIFE) SUMMARY | it's never too early to fall in love. but before falling, you must be a hundred percent sure or else you'd only end up crashing down. GENRE | breakup! au, angst, but this is gonna end on a light note i swear WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | “hindi ba pangako mo nu'ng una // tiwala'y iingatan? // baka naman, sa susunod na habang-buhay, ha-ay na lang” + “ikaw pa rin ang pipiliin kong mahalin // sa susunod na habang-buhay” ("didn't you promise back then // to cherish our trust? // maybe only in our next life, then" + "i'd still choose to love you in my next life")

ZHONG CHENLE | SUNRISE [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | one summer vacation and you discover all new sides of your childhood best friend, zhong chenle. he’s still as hyperactive, competitive, and a little shit as he was before, but there were a few changes. maybe those changes changed something within you, as well. GENRE | childhood friends to lovers! au, summer vacation! au, fluff, romance, humor WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "pull the windows down, the night was young // so we'd hide under the sheets until the dawn" + "sunrise // i have run this far still i find you // sunrise // show my weary heart that a new day will soon arrive // new day will soon arrive"

PARK JISUNG | WAR [coming soon!]

SUMMARY | a few months before college and jisung feels like his time is running out. he wasn't ready to face the rest of the world yet when he had barely experienced anything at the age of eighteen— and neither were you. the both of you are determined to accomplish everything you've ever wanted to do within the remaining few months before finally parting ways. GENRE | coming of age! au, best friends to lovers! au, romance, very lighthearted, fluff, minimal angst WARNINGS | tbd PROMPTS | "i wanna go // and fight in this fight // i wanna be // be more than just a child" + "i wanna hear // the marching sound of love"

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