#if you just have enough hair you can do space hair i think is the trick

[sunniques]

— 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !

➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: your stepdad goes to great lengths to spoil you.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infedilty, age gap, daddy kink, breeding kink, somnophilia, cockwarming, masturbation, oral sex (f & m), rimming, face riding, unprotected sex, creampies, cum eating, riding, shower sex, recording during sex, having sex while on the phone, reader can be carried by cheol

➺ WC: 8k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read. thank you @wonustars for beta reading this for me <3

Seungcheol is the first to admit that he spoils you rotten. He can’t really be blamed for it since you were a spoiled princess long before he met you. Technically, it’s your mother’s fault for always indulging you every time you asked for something. He knows she only gave in to compensate for not being around as much as she should have, but now it’s a responsibility he’s happily shouldered.

That’s why when you tell him you want to fuck all over the house with no interruptions, he doesn’t hesitate to make that happen. It's not hard despite there being certain obstacles he comes across.

"I don't understand," his wife's voice wobbles just enough for him to realize she's going to push back. "If you're upset with me, what we need is to talk, not give each other space."

"I need time to think, and I can't do that with you here."

"Seungcheol," his wife's voice is tight with repressed emotion. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not leaving my own house—"

"It's my house," he reminds her coldly. "You're hardly ever here, anyway. I know you'd rather be at work than spend time with me or Y/N."

Your mom flinches because his words are like ice, and because they're true. Still, the selfish part of her can't give him what he wants. Not when it feels like this will make her lose him forever.

"But giving you space for the entire weekend—!"

"Don't raise your voice," Seungcheol hisses, eyes dark and dangerous. "I don't want Y/N to hear."

He won't let her ruin your surprise. He wants to see your face when he tells you that you'll have the entire house to yourselves all weekend long.

Seungcheol doesn't feel bad even as his wife swallows thickly.

"Fine," she whispers, "I'll give you the space you want."

"Good. I want you gone before Saturday."

It's still early when you're gently pulled out of your wet dream by an intense pleasure. Through bleary eyes, you can see the sun still hasn't fully risen. You almost think you're still dreaming until you realize that your pussy being hot and wet is very real. Immediately, you recognize the situation and the pleasure clouding your senses.

You let out a needy mewl when you look down to see a head of hair between your thighs. Arousal rips through you when you realize you're completely naked, sleeping shirt and panties discarded beside your equally naked stepdad. Seungcheol groans into your cunt, pulling back a bit to gently suck on your swollen clit. The quiet whine you let out has his cock throbbing.

"Morning, princess."

"Daddy," you moan as you spread your trembling thighs.

"Shh, baby," Seungcheol gently shushes you while still lapping at your dripping cunt. "Your mom's still sleeping. You don't want to wake her up do you?"

More juices drip from your clenching pussy, and for a moment you wish he had crushed some of those sleeping pills in her drink again. But then again, if she slept in and missed her flight you wouldn't be able to have a cum-filled weekend with her husband like you planned. All you can do is hope she leaves for your grandparents' house soon.

"She's not gone yet?" You can't keep the whine out of your sleepy whisper.

"No," Seungcheol sighs in mutual disappointment before dropping his head back down to keep eating you out.

You toss your head back, mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he licks a broad stripe up your slit before sucking on your clit again. He repeats the action before forcing his tongue back into your slick pussy. Your clit pulses with pleasure as Seungcheol slowly eats you out.

"I've been feasting on your little pussy all morning," he hums against you, placing gentle kisses on your soft lips.

"Already got you to cream on my tongue twice."

He sounds so pleased that he got you to cum without waking you. The satisfied smirk on his shiny lips makes you moan and roll your hips into his mouth.

"You like that, sweetheart? Like that your daddy couldn't help himself?" Seungcheol's eyes are dark as he gently nips at your throbbing clit.

You give him a half-hearted nod, mind swimming with pleasure. Seungcheol's tongue smooths over your pussy and runs it up your slit to softly suckle on your clit, getting the sensitive bud messy with his spit. You grind your hips into his mouth eagerly, wanting to put on a show for the dark eyes that are watching you with molten heat.

Seungcheol pulls back, but not without pressing a quick kiss to your throbbing clit. "Roll over for me, baby. I want to try something."

You sluggishly do as he asks, rolling over until you're lying on your stomach. He grabs your thighs and pushes them until you're spread open, glistening cunt on display for him. Your stepdad's groan is guttural and makes you clench around nothing.

"Prettiest fucking view ever," Seungcheol hums to himself, cock throbbing at the erotic sight of you splayed out for him.

Seungcheol's hands grab your ass as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy lips open. He's quick to dive back into your pussy like a starved man. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, back arching as arousal thrums in your belly.

"God, baby. Love eating this pretty pussy." Your stepdad groans into the wet mess he's created, fucking his tongue deeper into your tight hole.

You try to keep your moans quiet as your hips squirm against the wet tongue spearing you open. The way Seungcheol greedily eats your cunt turns you on even more, and just thinking about what he says gets you even wetter. Feeling his strong hands holding you open as he's fucking his tongue into your clenching hole over and over again is sending you closer to the edge.

You tense slightly when you feel the pad of a finger slide over the furl of your asshole. Seungcheol groans into your pussy making you clench and rock down on the bed. He doesn't move his finger, only rubs it softly back and forth over your asshole.

"Want me to eat this hole too, sweetheart?" Seungcheol pulls back with a wet sound, mouth dragging up to bite your ass cheeks. "All you have to do is ask."

You feel hot all over, loving how fucking nasty he is. How he doesn't hesitate to give you anything you want. All you do is hum, and in less than a second he's spreading your ass until your hole is completely bare for him to see. You wiggle your hips to further entice him. Seungcheol growls as he licks a hot, wet stripe from your cunt all the way to your asshole.

"Daddy!" You cry, pussy fluttering at how much you like it. "More!"

"Don't worry, brat. Daddy's gonna lick you clean," Seungcheol says before he spits on your puckered hole. "I'm gonna eat this cute little ass all morning."

You gasp and moan as he licks over your rim with his hot tongue. The sensation makes you squirm and rock your swollen clit into the bed. While you're distracted by his mouth, he slips a couple of fingers into your empty pussy making you squeal and buck your hips. Seungcheol hums and slowly slides his tongue into your ass, spit dripping down onto his fingers that are scissoring you open.

"Fuck, daddy." You choke out, feeling unbelievably turned on as Seungcheol fucks your ass open with his thick tongue.

He fucks his fingers into your pussy until he's rubbing against your g-spot. You whine and bite your pillow to try and stifle the filthy sounds you're letting out. His tongue greedily licks your asshole open, sloppy wet sounds echoing off your bedroom walls making you drip slick down his fingers. It all feels so good that you wouldn't care if your mom were to walk in on you and your stepdad like this.

You're so lost in pleasure that you almost miss the knock on your door.

"Y/N? Are you awake?" Your mom's groggy voice wanders through the door.

Seungcheol groans quietly and buries his tongue past your clenching hole. His tongue fucks deeper into your ass while he fingers your cunt. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your stepdad starts to eat you out with more vigor than before. His fingers curl into you, massaging that spot that has you mewling into your covers.

Seungcheol briefly pulls away to whisper his filthy desire. "Cream all over my fingers, sweetheart. Show daddy how much you love having his tongue in your ass."

You can't keep your moan quiet when Seungcheol fucks his fingers into your squelching pussy harder. The long digits brush against your spongy spot until your tight pussy is pulsing around his fingers.

"Y/N?" Your mom sounds a bit more awake now.

You grind your hips into Seungcheol as his tongue slowly laps at the rim of your hole over and over again. The sloppy wet noise fills the room, and you wonder if your mom can hear it. Not that you or your stepdad care.

"I-I'm getting up now," luckily, your fucked out voice can easily be mistaken for fatigue.

"I won't be able to make you breakfast before I go. Make sure you eat something before you go to class!"

She's never made you breakfast—not even when you were in grade school. Instead of pondering on why she was trying to act doting, you give her a shaky okay. All you really care about is the teasing kicks her husband is giving your clenching hole.

When her footsteps fade away, his tongue spears you open again. Seungcheol starts to roughly fuck his fingers into your sopping pussy. It all feels so good that you start to bounce back against your stepdad's mouth and fingers, a preening whine high in your throat. Seungcheol lets out a feral growl and pushes his mouth harder against the furl of your asshole to fuck his tongue deeper into your clenching hole.

"I'm gonna cum, daddy," you mewl softly.

Seungcheol hums and keeps eating your ass, his long fingers massaging your velvety walls. You writhe against your bedsheets, the friction allowing the fabric to rub against your clit. Your toes curl as the stimulation pushes you over the edge. With a muffled wail, you cum hard around Seungcheol's fingers. Your wet walls flutter around his fingers as you asshole clenches around his wet tongue.

Your stepdad pulls away once you come down from your high. He groans lowly in his throat before telling you to stay still. A familiar wet sound fills your ears, and when you look over your shoulder you see him jerking off.

"Gonna cum on your holes." Seungcheol groans, fucking his hand harder.

His fat tip bumps against your spread pussy as hot ropes of cum cover your skin. You moan when you feel him drag the head of his leaking cock up to your asshole to cover it with the rest of his seed.

"So fucking pretty," Seungcheol groans.

You lick your lips and blindly reach for your phone. "Want pictures, daddy."

Seungcheol's grin is devious as he takes your phone and does as you ask. He even gets your permission to take a quick video of your soiled holes. Once he's done, he tosses the phone aside and pulls you up to give you a filthy kiss. You moan into his mouth, knowing this is going to be the best weekend of your life.

"Come on, princess," Seungcheol coos adoringly after you pull away. "Let's go shower."

You lick your lips as your stepdad picks you up and carries you over to the master bedroom. It's thrilling for you, especially because you can hear that your mom is still downstairs. Seungcheol shares your uncaring attitude. He's too busy showering you with affectionate kisses to care that his wife might come upstairs and find you two naked.

The air between you is intoxicating, and you almost feel impatient when Seungcheol gently sets you down on the bathroom counter. You make a move to get off and go towards the shower, but your stepdad is quick to stop you. He places a sweet kiss on your lips, eyes shimmering with arousal and affection.

"Stay there and let daddy take care of you, sweetheart," Seungcheol says before going to start the shower.

He waits until the water warms before picking you up again and placing you under the soothing water. You let out a content sigh and lean against him as the humid air surrounds you both. Seungcheol kisses the top of your head before grabbing a clean washcloth and lathering it up with soap.

Seungcheol is gentle as he runs the sudsy cloth along your body. He takes his time, gently cleaning you while murmuring how pretty you are. You can't help but relax under his gentle touch.

"Cheol," you half moan, half sigh as he presses open mouth kisses on your clean skin.

Your thighs squeeze together when he slowly runs the cloth across your tits. He slowly circles your sensitive nipples over and over until you're mewling and arching into his touch. Seungcheol is quick to discard the cloth and goes to grab your soapy tits.

"Fuck," he groans as he pinches and tugs on your hard nipples. "You have the prettiest tits, baby."

Molten heat invades your senses, the praise making you keen. The way your stepdad is so rough with your nipples has your pussy leaking with a different type of wetness running down your thighs. One of his large hands leaves your soft flesh to turn your head so he can give you a heated kiss. His other hand slowly trails down your body until you feel his fingers swiping across your slit then back up to circle your slippery clit.

"Such a sexy little brat," Seungcheol groans fondly before he hooks his chin over your shoulder so he can watch himself play with your pussy. "Always so ready for me."

You cry out in pleasure when his hand comes down to spank your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your knees buckle, but luckily Seungcheol's arm is tightly secured around your waist. He slowly turns you until your back is against the cool tile. Your eyes follow the beads of water that run down his toned body. The water drip off his thick cock, and you feel white hot arousal consume you entirely.

"Daddy," you whine and reach out for his cock.

Seungcheol smirks and kneels down, ignoring your petulant pout, "Daddy's still hungry."

You clench around nothing as he rubs his large hands along your thighs before spreading them open. His grin is devious as he places wet kisses along your inner thighs. You can't contain your moan as his breath ghosts across your throbbing clit.

"Daddy!" You squeal when Seungcheol finally fucks his tongue into your wet cunt.

Your stepdad groans, the vibration stimulating you further as his tongue slides deeper into your pulsing cunt. It's impossible not to watch him as he messily eats you out, licking and suckling on your sensitive bud. His dark eyes are trained on you, loving the fucked out face you're making.

Seungcheol moans when you grind your pussy into his face. He eagerly laps up your juices, licking and tasing every part of you his tongue can reach. The way he places soft kisses between his licks and sucks make your trembling legs feel like they're going to give out. Your eyes roll back as he fucks his tongue deeper into your hole, slurping up every last bit of your arousal.

Seungcheol's cock throbs at the sweet sounds you're letting out. He smirks against your cunt when you arch up and press closer to his pouty lips.

"Gonna cum, daddy."

Seungcheol hums in approval, tongue relentlessly lapping at your clit. "Do it, princess. Cum on daddy's face so he can fill you up."

You cry out loudly and squirt all over his face.

Seungcheol groans in approval and slurps up everything you release. He's smug when fucking you through your orgasm, and he doesn't stop until your legs are shaking. Your stepdad licks his lips and slowly stands, picking you up in the process. He can tell his display of strength turns you on, and it makes his ego inflate.

"Fuck," you mewl when you feel his cock nudge against your pussy.

Seungcheol's gaze is dark as he rubs his throbbing cock along your messy lips. The leaking tip bumps your sensitive clit, making you arch your back and cry out for him. You're so needy and desperate for his dick that he can't make you wait any longer. Seungcheol grabs your ass, squeezing it roughly, before he sinks you down on his aching cock.

"Mmmh, fuck, daddy," your moans come out in a fucked out pants, arms and legs locking around his body.

Seungcheol starts to fuck you slowly, rocking his cock in and out of your pussy at a pace you're not used to from him. Hot water cascades over the both of you, and it makes you feel that much better as your tight walls eagerly suck him in. You feel his cock stretching you out slowly, making you whine into his wet neck.

"Fucking shit, Y/N," your stepdad's groan is guttural. "Tight little pussy feels too good."

It's like you both lose sense of time as Seungcheol slowly splits you open on his cock. The movement of his hips are slow yet deliberate. Every time his pelvis rubs against your clit you see stars. His throbbing tip brushes against the spongy spot inside you, barely kissing your cervix with every precise movement. Molten pleasure consumes you slowly, already making you feel cock drunk.

"Seungcheol?"

Your stepdad's hips stutter at the sound of your mother's voice, but one look at the pout on your face makes him keep going. Especially since you tighten around him at the same time his cock starts to throb and twitch inside you. You two share a filthy smirk, loving the turn of events. It’s so sick and twisted, but both of you are past caring.

"What is it?" Seungcheol calls, slightly annoyed as he starts to bounce you on his cock.

"I– Well..." your mom trails off, sounding completely unsure of herself.

You don't care that it's uncharacteristic of her because Seungcheol starts to press sloppy kisses on your neck. His thrusts have grown rougher, harshly pounding into your squelching pussy. Your eyes roll back as your toes curl. The feeling of your stepdad's veiny cock dragging against your slick walls have you gushing all over him, and the fact that your mom is standing right outside the bathroom door completely unaware only turns you on more.

"I hope giving you the space you want doesn't mean this is the end of our marriage." You can tell she's close to tears as she speaks.

"Cum inside me, daddy," you purr into Seungcheol's ear, wanting nothing more than him to stuff you full.

Seungcheol quietly groans into your neck, feeling your pulsing walls flutter around his cock. His grip on your ass tightens, and he starts to bounce you harder on his aching dick. He hears his wife holding back sobs, but he doesn’t feel bad. Not since he has her daughter’s tight little pussy wrapped around his cock.

"Such a nasty little brat," he hums against your wet skin, hips snapping savagely. "You want me to cream this cute little pussy while your mom is on the other side of that door crying for me?"

You mewl into his ear, pussy clenching around his cock and staining it with more of your cream. Seungcheol grunts, hips moving faster as he fucks into your hole deeper and harder. Your back arches as your cunt spasms around his dick.

"Want it so bad, daddy," you whimper into his ears, nails digging into his back. "Breed this little pussy. Stuff me full and knock me up."

"God damn, baby. You're such a dirty little slut," he whispers against your hot, wet skin. "What would your mom say if she walked in and saw you begging for my cum?"

You whine again, hips rocking into his as his thick cock pistons in and out of your hot cunt.

"What would you tell your wife?" You say through a fucked out giggle. "You'd have to tell her that you're bouncing her daughter on your big cock because you want to put a baby in her."

Seungcheol's deep moan almost drowns out your mother's voice.

"I know you're still mad, so I'll call you when I land. Please take care of Y/N while I'm away."

"Don't worry," Seungcheol growls, loud enough to be heard over the running water. "I'll make sure to take care of her."

You finally wail out in pleasure when you hear the footsteps fade away. Seungcheol savagely rams his cock against your sweet spot over and over until you're cumming hard on his throbbing dick.

"That's it, princess. Make a mess all over daddy's cock. Fuck. I'm gonna fill this cute little pussy all weekend long. Not letting you off my dick until I know you're carrying my child."

Your stepdad spears into your sloppy cunt harder, his leaking tip brushing against your g spot with every thrust. "Fuck, sweetheart. Little pussy feels too good."

With a loud grunt, he pushed his cock as deep as it'll go before thick, hot ropes of cum spurt from his throbbing tip. Seungcheol moans loudly, grinding his cock into your pulsing walls.

You smash your lips onto his, loving the feeling of his cum slowly dripping out of you.

The weekend is coming to an end, and true to his word, your stepdad has not let you off his cock. You've fucked all over the house just like you wanted. In the hot tub out back, then in the pool. On the billiards table and in the laundry room. Even on the kitchen counter and the dining room table. Every surface has been stained with you and Seungcheol's mixed releases. It thrills you because it feels like you're marking the house—your house—in the filthiest way possible.

Seungcheol has been especially doting, giving into every single one of your wishes. He even agreed to record the nasty things you do so you can watch it later on. The videos are mainly taken on your phone, but you have to insist that he take some on his too. After all, he should have some memories of the weekend he planned as well.

This is all so wrong. Seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to make himself care. Especially when you look so beautiful underneath him, with your puffy nipples covered in his saliva and your fucked out expression of absolute pleasure. Especially when you moan and whimper the single word that makes him go insane every single time it falls from your pretty lips.

"Daddy!"

Fuck. To have his sweet little stepdaughter in such a filthy way is everything to him. His cock is buried so deep inside of you that he's certain he's in your guts. His teeth graze your neck as you cling to him. "Like this, angel? Like when your stepdad fucks you like this?"

A cute whine escapes you, but you can't answer because you're too far gone. Seungcheol thinks that you may be doing it on purpose for the camera, but either way, he loves it.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me how good it feels," his whispered voice in your ear makes you shudder.

Your pussy clenches hard around his thick cock, wanting to keep him there forever.

"So fucking good. God, daddy. I'm gonna cum." Again.

You don't know how many times you've cum already, or if you've even stopped cumming. The entire weekend has felt like one prolonged orgasm for you.

You grab his hair and pull his face to yours, looking into his eyes. "Cum with me—cum inside me," you plead, your tongue flicking against his lips.

Seungcheol can't deny you anything. He never has. His hips speed up, his orgasm so close but he needs you to tip over first. The feeling of his stepdaughter creaming and making a mess on his cock is one he'll never get tired of.

"God, you're such a needy little brat," he groans against your lips. Words can't describe how much he loves you. How fucking thankful he is that you love him the same way. "Can't get enough of daddy's cum, hm?"

It only takes a few circles of his thumb on your clit and you're cumming with a loud whine.

"Daddy, please!" Your fingers dig into the skin of his back while you plead with him to fill you up. It's only a few seconds later that you're taking load after load of his thick cum.

"Mm, yes!" You mewl, closing your eyes, savoring the feeling of it.

Seungcheol kisses your lips, not daring to pull out. He doesn't want a single drop to escape.

"You got all of daddy's cum. Is my sweet girl happy now?"

You smile into the kiss as you catch your breath, looking at him adoringly, "Yes, daddy."

Seungcheol licks his lips hungrily and reaches for the phone propped against the nightstand. He points it at your stuffed cunt, groaning when he sees his cum running down the length of his cock and down to his heavy sack. Just as he’s about to end the video, you buck your hips with a needy whine.

“Want more, daddy!”

And so, ever powerless to your desires, Seungcheol positions your phone in the same spot before giving you exactly what you want. He’s not soft like he was earlier—not that you want him to be. You always act like a greedy brat when you want him to be rough with you.

“What a greedy fucking brat!” He punctuates every word with a rough thrust, eyes rolling to the back of his head as your sloppy hole keeps sucking him in.

“Fucking shit. You need it that bad, baby? Need daddy’s cock to stuff you full until you’re dripping in his cum?"

Seungcheol doesn't realize just how badly you do need it. Your hands reach down to squeeze his plump ass, dragging him as far into you as physically possible. “Yes, daddy, yes! Need your cock, need your cum! Need it so fucking bad!”

Your needy moans only drive him to fuck you harder. Seungcheol feels fucking insane. This is undoubtedly the best sex of his life, and he can’t remember ever fucking anyone so passionately. Fuck, you feel so good.

He’s so addicted to your sweet little cunt that he thinks he might go crazy without it. You just have a molten little pussy that’s sucking and wetting his cock so deliciously, dragging his cum right out of his heavy balls, and he’s powerless to it. All he can do is groan and bury his face in your neck as he pulses warm and hot inside you.

“O-oh fuck, baby!” Seungcheol moans against your skin as he spills his thick load inside you. “There you go, princess. Take all of daddy’s cum.”

Your sweet moans sound like heaven, and he has to smash his lips on yours as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy. “Fuck. Such a tight fucking pussy.”

Seungcheol’s heart nearly bursts when you give him a fucked out smile, eyes full of adoration. “It’s all yours, daddy.”

If there's one thing you've come to learn about your stepdad, it's that he's unexpectedly clingy. Honestly, you love that side of him, which is why you can't say no when he asks you to cockwarm him. You're both sitting on the couch with some movie playing softly in the background. Seungcheol is on a business call while you shop online.

All the pretty things you have in your cart are courtesy of your doting stepdad, and as you go to check out, you feel yourself slowly drifting into a peaceful haze. Seungcheol keeps talking, running a soothing hand up and down your back while periodically placing gentle kisses on your head.

You bask in his warmth and the floaty feeling taking over your consciousness. Seungcheol's cock feels so big and thick inside you that it's all you can think about. The delicious stretch it provides is driving you crazy in the best way, and it only gets worse when he trails his free hand down to squeeze your ass. You mewl into his neck, loving this dreamlike state his cock has you in.

"Feel good, princess?"

His soothing voice is like honey, and it has you sighing against his neck, "So good, daddy."

Seungcheol's smirk is smug, "Yeah?"

You hum with a halfhearted nod, still too lost in the feeling of his cock filling you up.

"Spoiled little brat likes being stretched out on this big cock, huh?"

You whine cutely, pussy clenching down on his thick cock, "Yes, daddy."

"Fuck," Seungcheol grunts, pressing his hips up into you further. "I think it's time to fill this needy cunt."

You roll your hips down with a moan of agreement. It's just like him to give you what you want before you ask for it, "Daddy's the best."

Seungcheol's smirk is unbearably attractive as his hands tighten on your waist. He wastes no time in fucking his cock up into your soaking pussy, making sure to go as deep as possible. You come back to life as his big dick hits your sweet spot immediately. With a loud cry you lift yourself off of his chest to take off the large shirt you're wearing. Your stepdad groans when he sees your pretty tits bouncing in his face, cock twitching inside you.

After several skin slapping thrusts, he slows down to deep rolling grinds. His eyes are dark as he reaches for the buzzing phone he discarded just seconds ago.

"Be quiet for me, baby."

Your eyes drift down to the phone in his hand, smirking when you see it's your mom calling. Seungcheol picks up and put it on speaker, setting the phone aside so he can grab your bouncing tits.

"Hello?"

"Hey, honey." Your mom sounds deflated. "How... How are you?"

"Fine," Seungcheol grunts before he starts to thrust deeply into your dripping cunt while pulling and pinching your pretty nipples. "How's things over there?"

Your eyes roll back as you hear your mom go on about how happy your grandparents were to see her. Molten pleasure licks up your spine as you start to meet Seungcheol's rough thrusts. His mouth drops open as your pussy pulses and clenches around his cock.

"How's Y/N?" Your mom asks, but there's something off about her tone.

Immediately, you can tell she's not really interested in what you were up to. It's a tactic to keep him on the phone longer. Not that you care. You know she's not all that concerned since you're an adult and have your own life. It's why she only texted you once after landing.

"She's fine. We spent some time together earlier—just like I promised you." His voice drips with honey as he watches you fall apart on his cock.

You grin impishly as he drills up into your squelching pussy with his thick, heavy cock. Part of you wonders if she can hear the sound of skin on skin or the lewd squelching coming from your stuffed pussy. The thought turns you on so much that you have to tamper down the moan climbing up your throat. You feel like screaming because of how good you feel, and your stepdad just smirks at you like he isn't making a mess of you.

One of Seungcheol's hands slowly trails down your body to where you're connected. His thumb circles your clit slowly, barely giving you any stimulation. You buck your hips and push yourself harder into his hand, ever the impatient brat. He loves it, and yet he ignores your silent plea. Your stepdad stops teasing your sensitive bud and moves his hand to guide your hips into a rolling grind. The other goes to the fat of your ass, roughly squeezing and kneading the soft flesh.

"Thank you, honey," her tone is love stricken, and you wonder how she could easily fall back into his trap just like that. Part of you finds it funny while the other part of you feels disgusted.

"It means a lot to me that you care for her even when I'm not there."

Seungcheol smirks at you, leaning back to focus on your bouncing tits, "Of course. I have to care for our little princess even when you're not around."

You bite your lip when Seungcheol aggressively thrusts you down on his dick.

"So fucking tight." He hisses through clenched teeth.

"Well I'm grateful, even though I sometimes think she's a little too spoiled."

Both of his large hands are now cupping your ass, helping you bounce on this aching cock. His hungry gaze stares at the way your pretty pussy swallows his cock so perfectly. By now, he's sure your insides are shaped like him, and it just makes him twitch and throb inside you. He's so focused on watching his cock piston in and out of your tight hole that he almost misses his wife's question.

"Honey, are you done thinking now?"

Seungcheol doesn't answer her, instead choosing to spit on your sloppy pussy. You slow your bounces, tight cunt clenches at the action. Your stepdad smirks and does it again. He watches, completely satisfied as you shudder and roll your eyes to the back of your skull.

"No," He admits as you start to bounce on his dick again, "I'm still a little angry."

"Really?" Your mom can't hide her disappointment.

Seungcheol nearly loses it when you start to roll your hips sensually, fucking his cock exactly the way he likes it. Your thighs are starting to stick to his from the amount of wetness between you two. With a smug grin, you lean forward to give him a sloppy kiss.

"Let it all out, daddy," you whisper against his lips, "fill my pussy with your cum."

"Seungcheol?"

That annoying voice makes your stepdad fuck you harder, eager to give you what you both want.

"It's going to take some time. Some things don't just go away overnight."

Your stepdad keeps talking to your mom like you're not grinding your needy cunt on his fat cock. It's just making you more wet, and you can feel your arousal dripping down his balls and onto the nice couch. You have no doubt that it'll leave a stain, but that's the least of your worries right now. It turns you on so much to know that Seungcheol is fucking you while he's talking to his wife. You feel like such a slut, but you can't deny how much you like it.

You've never been so wet, and it makes you want to ride your stepdad harder, maybe even get caught. Your pussy spasms and clenches down on him at that thought, making him flinch and bite his lip.

Seungcheol slaps your ass with both hands and cages you against his chest. You muffle your cry of pleasure in his neck as he savagely starts to thrust into you like you're nothing more than a hole. His leaking cock is hitting inside you so deep and hard that it's not long before you cum all over his big cock.

The room smells of sex as he starts to bounce you on his sensitive cock all over again. Loud squelching and quiet whimpers fill the air as your stepdad helps you ride him. One last, milking compression of your silky pussy has him emptying his balls inside you. Seungcheol groans into your shoulder, hips never stopping.

"Okay. I understand," your mom sounds close to tears.

You don’t care. Instead, you start to move your hips to help her husband fuck his cum deeper into your fertile pussy. Your wetness and his cum seeping between your folds and down his veiny girth turns your skilled movements sloppy.

“Give me more, daddy,” you mewl, batting your eyelashes in that coy way he loves.

Seungcheol raises his body into more of a sitting position and roughly pulls you up and off of his cock. You watch dazedly as his dick drools with the remnants of your orgasm and his cum. You lick your lips at the filthy sight of his wet cock.

“Honey?”

Your mom’s voice sounds distant as her husband positions you over the armrest of the couch. He only hums in response as he slowly slides his fat cock back into your messy pussy. Your mouth drops open at the feeling. Once again he’s stretching you out so good that it has your pussy clenching down on him compulsively.

“Do…” She pauses. “Do you still love me?”

Seungcheol can’t focus on her pathetic words as he slowly starts to fuck your sloppy pussy. He can see the remnants of his cum being pushed out of you as his thrusts start to get rougher. Your warm walls cling to his cock desperately, wanting to milk him for all he’s worth.

“How could you ask me that?” Seungcheol mocks her dejected tone, though she doesn’t notice. “You’re the one that’s never home anymore. I’m starting to wonder if you still love me?”

It’s sick how good he is at gaslighting, but you don’t feel bad. In fact it turns you on. Like really fucking bad. Your pussy tightens around your stepdad’s cock which makes him angle his hips to have you biting down on the armrest to stifle your filthy moans. He fucks into your sweet spot as pleasure whites out any coherent thoughts you have.

“Of course I do!” Your mom sounds shrill and distraught, so much that she can’t hear how good her husband is fucking you. How he’s splitting you open on the nice couch she picked out when they first got married. “How could you think—?”

“Let’s talk about it when you come home,” Seungcheol says through gritted teeth, eyes focused on how your pretty ass is bouncing back on his pelvis. “You’re upset, and this is a conversation we need to have in person.”

The pathetic okay sounds distant, and you vaguely catch her saying I love you to Seungcheol before he abruptly hangs up the phone without saying it back.

“Goddamn,” Seungcheol groans as disregards his phone, “trying to suck me in, sweetheart? Greedy little pussy needs daddy's cock that bad?"

He pounds into your sloppy, squelching hole when you loudly moan and nod. Your juices are dripping everywhere, and he fucking loves it. The swollen tip of his cock hammers against your g-spot until you’re screaming for him. Seungcheol smirks, knowing you were just waiting to let it all out.

"I fucking knew it," He groans with an endeared laugh.

"Don’t worry, princess. Daddy’s gonna cream this sweet fucking pussy. Get you all dirty so I can eat you out."

You whine and claw at the couch, clit rubbing against the rough material and pushing you closer and closer to orgasm. By now your legs are shaking from the sheer pleasure his big cock is giving you.

"Should I make you squirt on my cock, sweetheart? Get the couch all dirty?"

You start to bounce yourself back on his cock eagerly, "Daddy, gonna cum!"

Seungcheol grins and affectionately squeezes your sides before his hand slips down to your clit. He tugs your hips back just a little and lands a hard spank across your swollen bud. You squeal loudly, body trembling at the mean action.

"Daddy!"

"Oh, I know,” His voice drips with lust, "you know daddy can’t help but be a little rough with your little pussy."

Your stepdad smacks you again catching your clit on his wedding ring making you scream as your orgasm rushes over you. Slick drips around his cock as your cunt clamps down on his dick. You whine and move your hips in tandem with his, loving how intense this one is.

"Fuck!" Seungcheol growls, hips pistoning harder into your fluttering walls.

“Such a good girl. My good little brat—fuck!"

Your cunt milks his cock as he fills you with hot sticky cum. His thrusts start to get sloppy as he spills rope after rope into your hot cunt.

"Take it," he hisses, biting down hard on your shoulder causing you to moan, pussy clamping down even harder on his dick.

You’re crying out loudly from how good it feels, hole still gushing slick from his fat cock bullying into your pussy and cumming deep inside you. This load is the biggest he’s ever given you. Somehow he doesn’t stop cumming. It feels like stream after stream of his hot seed paints every inch of your fluttering walls white.

"Gonna eat you out after this," Seungcheol groans in your ear, "need to get my mouth on your messy little pussy."

You whine as he pulls out, cum and slick oozing from your hole to drip all down your thighs and onto the couch. Without moving you, Seungcheol lays on his back and shifts until he's underneath your splayed legs.

"Sit on my face, baby," he guides your hips down, “let your stepdad clean the mess he made.”

With a harsh tug, your cunt presses down on his awaiting mouth. His nose bumps against your clit as his eager tongue licks into your sensitive pussy. You feel him moan against your wetness, wasting to time in lapping up the cum he’s left inside you. The filthy action makes you rock against his soft lips. You grab onto his hair and start riding his face gently since you're still reeling from your previous orgasm.

"Daddy!" You cry out as he fucks his tongue deeper into your hole. "Feels so fucking good! Fuck—mhm."

You trail off with a whine as he sucks on your pussy lips and nips at your clit. He greedily eats all the cum out of your messy cunt. Mewling, you press yourself harder on Seungcheol’s face. He groans gutturally when you settle further onto his mouth. Your stepdad grinds his mouth against your puffy cunt making you whine louder, clit throbbing with arousal. He rubs his nose against the sensitive bundle of nerves making you buck into the feeling.

Arousal gushes out of you as your stepdad continues to eat your pussy, and you don’t realize you’re on the verge of another orgasm until you’re squirting all over his face. Seungcheol groans in satisfaction, lapping up every stream that gushes out of your hot little cunt.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Your back arches in a perfect curve as Seungcheol laps up all of your creamy slick.

Of course, Seungcheol only moans along with you and presses even further into your cunt, practically suffocating himself to taste you more. He’ll never get enough of your addicting taste, and you looked back to see his cock hard and throbbing, leaking with so much precum that it looks painful.

When he finally finishes, you don’t let him get up despite the fact that your legs are too shaky to hold your weight. Seungcheol lays back, curious about your next moves. He moans loudly when you crawl down his sweaty body and take his aching cock into your soft hands.

“My turn to have a taste, daddy.”

You don’t give him a chance to say anything before you push the drippy tip of his cock past your swollen lips. His loud moan makes your cunt pulse. It makes you swirl your tongue around his sensitive head before licking down the rest of his dirty cock. You can taste yourself, and that just turns you on even more.

"Gonna make me cum in your mouth, sweetheart," he groans, watching your lips stretch around his hard cock.

You keep your eyes on him as you sink your hot mouth on his pulsing cock. He’s so big, too big to fit all of him in your mouth. Not that you care. Sucking him off always gets you so wet. Especially because you can tell how much he loves it.

"Fuck. You gonna swallow the rest of daddy’s cum, baby?" Seungcheol grins at you as you moan around his dick.

“You like that? It’s gonna feel so good, baby. Daddy's hot cum pouring down your slutty throat."

You whine, reaching down to your sore cunt to rub your clit. His filthy words always turn you on so much, and he fucking knows it. You can tell by the way he smirks.

"That turn you on, sweetheart?" He chuckles as you slide his cock deeper into your mouth. Seungcheol pulls out a few inches and sinks back down into you making you moan as he fills your throat.

"Play with that cute pussy. I want you to cum all over your fingers while I fuck your mouth."

You continue to moan as you take his cock further down your throat.

"God, baby, I'm about to cum," his hips stutter, "Be a good girl and swallow every last drop for daddy. Milk my cock just how I like."

Your fingers circle and rub your clit faster until you're moaning uncontrollably around his length. Seungcheol’s eyes roll back at the vibrations he feels on his dick. He moans your name, and that’s all it takes to have you cumming, hole clenching down on nothing as slick drips from your pussy.

With a low groan, Seungcheol eases out of your mouth until you can only suckle on the fat head of his dick. Hot sticky ropes of cum fill your mouth and the back of your throat in the next second. Your stepdad grins when you take his cock and slowly sink it further into your mouth. You moan at the feeling of cum dripping down the back of your throat. Eagerly, you swallow and milk his throbbing cock for all it’s worth.

Seungcheol pulls out of your mouth completely but leaves his swollen tip pressed to your lips, “finish cleaning daddy’s cock, sweetheart."

You press a gentle kiss on his sensitive head before giving it a shy kitten lick that drives him crazy. After he’s satisfied, he pulls you off his cock and sits back on the couch before pulling you into his lap.

Seungcheol kisses you, tongue sloppily licking into your mouth. You moan happily, unable to get enough of him.

"You’re so good for me, baby," your stepdad mumbles after he pulls away, "always such a good girl."

After you’re done, Seungcheol carries you to your room. He cleans you up in your bathroom, tenderly cleaning every part of your body before washing himself. Once he’s done, he makes sure to dress you in your favorite sleep shirt before joining you in your bed.

“Daddy,” you hum as he nuzzles his face into your neck, “love you.”

“Me too, princess,” he hums, arms tightening around you.

“Don’t want this to end,” you say sleepily before finally drifting off into a lovely dream.

Seungcheol hums in agreement, staying up longer to contemplate.

Now that he’s had a taste of what it would be like to have you without anyone getting in the way, he knows he won’t be able to go back. And so, in his deeply twisted mind he starts to plot how he’s going to make that happen. Of course, he’ll have to run his plans by you before attempting anything, but he knows you won’t have any objections.

Seungcheol drifts off to sleep, happily dreaming of a life where it’s just you and him.

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: TW this post contains a homophobic slur.

Transcript under the cut

Professor Munch: Everyone, this is Nancy. She’s one of my favorite students. I am so glad she can join us this evening to observe our weekly GSA meeting.

Nancy: And what is a GSA?

Morgan: It stands for Gay–Straight Alliance. It’s just a safe space for queer kids to hang out and talk about real world issues.

Knox: Yeah, we go out and do stuff off campus. It’s pretty tight.

Nancy: Queer? So...this is a club for homosexuals?

Darling: [sucks teeth]

Knox: [chuckles nervously] I mean, sure I guess? Me and Morgan are bisexual. That means we dig the fellas and the ladies, heh.

Professor Munch: What’s important is that this space is for everyone, from all walks of life. We support each other here, no matter who you love. We keep each other safe. That’s why I invited you to sit in on our session. I figured you could use a friend or two-

Nancy: Ugh! Oh my God? You think I’m- I’m not like that, ok!?

Nancy: I am not a homosexual! What the hell made you think I’d want to be apart of something like this?

Professor Munch: No, dear- I’m not implying you’re like anything! This club welcomes all people. I thought you could use the support. Why, your brother started the very first GSA at this school-

Nancy: Oh, don’t you fucking dare! My brother wasn’t some depraved pervert and I’m not a d****!

Darling: [jumps up, chair scrapes hardwood floor] What the fuck did you just say? You can’t come up in calling people that shit!

Nancy: I-I didn’t! All I’m saying is that I’m not like that! I’m not like you-

Darling: Not like who? Not like a d?****?

Darling: What the fuck is your problem? Munch, who is this bitch?

Professor Munch: Easy, Dee. Calm down-

Darling: Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You let some straight white girl walk in here and say something we heard screamed at us our whole fucking life! Say it again! I dare you!

Professor Munch: That’s enough! Please! Let me handle this.

Nancy: [between sobs] M’sorry...m’so sorry...

Professor Munch: [sighs] Just, take some time to think about this, Nancy. Look inward.

Nancy Narrates: [Look inward] x3

Nancy: If it’s ok...I’d like to apologize.

Professor Munch: Everyone? Is it alright if Nancy speaks?

Morgan: I don’t mind.

Darling: [sighs] Whatever man.

Nancy: [exhales] When I first heard that word, I was 11 years old. My mother found letters I wrote to my pen pal. She mailed a photo of herself from her birthday party, she wore this really pretty yellow dress with little blue flowers on them.

Nancy: Yellow is my favorite color, so I said she was as pretty as a sunflower. My mother tore up the letter and made me rewrite it. She looked me right in the eyes and said, ‘do you want someone to read this and think you’re a-’

Nancy: She said it again when was 14, a girl from my ballet troupe was only brushing my hair. She pulled me from the class. She said it again two years ago, when she found out that I fell in love with-

Nancy: I know that word hurts because it’s been said to hurt me even though I’m not... It doesn’t matter if I’m not, I shouldn’t have said it. It was a horrible thing to do. I am so incredibly sorry.

Professor Munch: Thank you for sharing your story. This is what GSA is about. Coming together, creating a community, and creating safe spaces. Dee, is there anything you want to say to Nancy? Anything you’d like to speak on or about how you feel?

Darling: Nah...

Nancy Narrates: [I knew that an apology alone wouldn't suffice to mend the situation. When it came to friendships, I didn’t know how to genuinely make amends, but as a Landgraab, I knew that I could leverage my wealth and status to create a meaningful impact]

Morgan: You got us the biggest hall on campus?! Nancy, this is sick as fuck!

Professor Munch: [laughs] I’ll have to agree with Morgan for lack of a better word. This is sick as heck! I don’t know where to begin to thank you for this gift.

Nancy: It’s the least I could do. Now you can stop meeting in that tiny corner in the commons.

Darling: Charity work for your little sorority, huh? What’s with you, yo?

Nancy: What do you mean?

Darling: You’re so rich, you just buy your way through shit?

Nancy: It’s how I was raised.

Darling: I can’t figure you out.

Nancy: I promise, I’m not a bad person.

Darling: We’re not like everyone else on campus. We’ll show you something real. You gotta be real with us too.

Nancy Narrates: [I found myself wanting to do exactly that—to show them the real me, whoever she was]

Siobhan: I’m planning a party for the Thetas Friday night. Perfect opportunity for you to bond with your sisters.

Nancy: I’m a little busy Friday night...maybe next time?

Siobhan: Being apart of a sorority is more than just the cute merch and bragging rights. We’re involved with the community and with this campus. As a pledge, I do expect you to commit to these things.

Nancy: I know and I will. I just need to take care of something.

Siobhan: [sighs] Don’t let me down, sister.

[the group murmurs excitedly]

Professor Munch: You did all this, Nancy?

Nancy: I hope it’s ok I’m here. I figured you could break in your new room with a movie night. Everything is already taken care of, and I bought a ton of movies ranging from comedy to horror and everything in between. They’re all yours to keep! Same with the popcorn machine. I know I’m using money again to impress you but... I guess I’m still trying to figure out what it means to be real. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it all.

Morgan: Yeah, not so fast. Stick around, watch a movie with us!

Nancy: Are you sure?

Knox: Of course we’re sure, squirt.

[angelltheninth]

im a sucker for the electro men in wuwa... might i ask for calcharo, xiangli yao, and yuanwu having their s/o ride them for the first time? <:3

You have good taste in men Anon.

Pairing: Calcharo, Xiangli Yao, Yuanwu x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, orgasm encouragement, cock riding, hair-pulling (for Reader), clit stimulation, pussy slapping, brat taming, doggie style

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: You can say they have a... electrifying effect on me. Ha! No? I think it's funny.

Calcharo chuckled when he heard you hiss as you were pulled back onto his cock. "Faster. Sweet little thing, ride my cock faster. Or do you want me to give you a little more incentive?" 

Before you could say yes he pulled your hair back harder, a tight fist against your scalp, forcing you back against his cock with a loud clap. It hurt in a good way. You only had so much space to move, enough to get in inch off his cock and then take it all back in. The distance you were able to move might be tiny but the speed at which you move wasn't, encouraged by the mercenary's hand in your hair.

Letting you have control over the thrusts was a temporary luxury. He didn't move an inch, you had to do all the work here.

"Definitely motivated enough now." You met his gaze for a second before shutting your eyes in pain from the next pull. "S-Sorry. Gonna make you come, soon." You promised, pussy pulsing around him every time he was balls deep in you.

Each time he tightened his grip so did your pussy tighten around his dick. "You want it baby? Ask me properly, like the whore that we both know you are." Calcharo taunted you, making you sob with need and your poor cunt so desperate to get his cum in it.

"Come inside me." You weren't gonna say please, your inner walls could do that for you. Finally he released his grip on you only to push your head against the bed as his cock sank in balls deep to empty itself in your womb. The new position didn't stop you from grinding your ass against him to get everything you could from him.

Xiangli Yao was almost relaxed under you as you went up and down on his hard cock. He didn't even need to do anything in order to come, or to make you come either. But he doesn't want to be lazy.

"Let me do this for you, let me make my love come on my dick." He smiled from his position below you as his fingers found your clit and pressed it in quick, tight swipes. "There's that clench. I know what you like."

His fingers worked you up so fast but you didn't want to come yet, not until he did. But your legs didn't listen to you, turning liquid as your pussy walls fluttered around him. "Hold... me." You moaned out as you leaned against his chest and kept bucking your hips despite your mind being overtaken by pleasure.

"I've got you, always got you." He kissed your shoulder slowly, one hand still between your legs.

The other hand was on your hip, going down to your ass then back up. Your hips smacked down against his wildly, feeling his cock pulsing inside you and emptying ropes of seed soon after. You didn't stop moving.

Making a mess of you both, his cum staining both your stomach, thick and sticky and warm. "Messy. I don't mind, you know I don't, not when it's the result of this."

Yuanwu rutted into your pussy with no intention of slowing down at all. "Babygirl, what's the matter, can't you meet my thrusts?"

You grunted as you tried to do so but you also enjoyed him fucking you. You didn't expect him to halt fully when he was half-way in your cunt. "What the fuck Yuanwu?!" You complained but were met with a slap on your exposed clit.

"Ride it. Go on, ride it if you want to come." He smirked down at you as he didn't move at all, but he wiggled his eyebrows in a challange. "Brat. Didn't you fucking hear me?" He slapped your pussy again. "If this is what I need to do, punish your cunt, then I will."

Secretly you wanted just that. With your pussy already sensitive it would almost hurt. Acompamying every wet slap was your moan and your hips grinding upwards, taking his cock to his balls. Empowerimg your orgasm further was his cock curved slightly upwards and hitting your sweetspot every time.

"Open up those legs. Let me see your cunt get full!" He grunted deeply as he sunk down on his hands, letting you hug him close and ride his cock like a dildo stuck on a wall.

"Look down then, Sir." He almost didn't want to but at the same time he wanted to see the exact moment when his cock sank balls deep and be emptied.

[esggs]

swipe that nose like a credit card – Higuruma Hiromi

[softdom! reader x sub!Hiromi, 650+ words, smut/fluff, cunnilingus, mentions of bj, body insecurities, soothing said insecurities, please I love people with big noses]

You move your hips from his face to your new seat, his chest. Hiromi, lips suddenly detached from your clit, looks up, sweating, panting, blushing, and confused.

“Are you too tired, handsome?” What? Hiromi’s brows curl with dismay. Has he not been pleasing you well enough?

His words come between breathless heaves (he’s spent a decent amount of time buried under your cunt by now). “Am I doing something wrong, ma’am? Tell me.” His hands try to pull your plump ass onto his wet chin again. But from the look on your face he quits immediately. “Please?”

“Have you forgotten?” Leaning down to him, you let him bury his face into your boobs, squeezing and sucking, how lucky he is. You can barely hear his muffled voice: “Please tell me, ma’am, I’ll please you as you wish.”

He needs punishing. His paradise of boobs cruelly leaves him as you lean back again, even though his hands remain cupping your tits. To be fair, it’s not as if anything more than cloudy lust fills his head right now, you can’t really blame him for not remembering. Your hands tighten in his hair till he’s moaning from the pain and humping up into the air. 

You run your wet tongue up the bridge of his strong nose. “Shouldn’t this be fucking into my pussy? How could you make such a mistake, pretty face?” 

He gulps and nods. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll do better this time.”

“My sweet love,” you praise him as he softly nips the insides of your thighs, sinking two fingers into your cunt, the stretch slow and delicious. He pulls your hips to hover just above his trembling tongue, awaiting further kind words before he pushes heaven up into you.  “Love you, Hiromi. You’re perfect, aren’t you, baby boy?”

His fingers part inside your hole, leaving a space for his tongue to lick inside for a moment, collecting your nectar-slick, before drawing them to massage your clit with. You jolt at the sweet sting, his broad hands keeping you locked onto his face, the light stubble of his jaw grazing your delicate skin. Hiromi works up wave upon wave of sharp pleasure till you break. Till you fully take control. Till you grab him down by the hair and are riding your orgasm out on his nose.  

“Use me, ma’am.” He groans out, barely an inch from cumming himself watching your boobs bounce, your face twisted, lost in the way his broad nose grinds against your swollen clit again and again and again. 

You cry out when you reach your high, your cum dripping over his nose, lips and cheeks. If he tries to sneak a taste with his tongue, you don’t notice. You gently climb down from his face when you’re fully done.

“You know, babe, I was so insecure about my nose back in school.” Hiromi laughs tiredly. A warm towel in your hand, you clean him up, lots of kisses and praise peppered in between. His cock will be sucked off in a bit, if he so wishes, and his arms will be cuddling you to a deep sleep soon. “My friends made fun of me, say it’s too big, you know? That was just how it was like back then. To think you love it so much now…”

You trace the bridge of his carved aquiline nose. Some idiots made fun of this? “I’ll beat your friends up, okay? They don’t know shit about anything. It is big, I don’t know anything about ‘too big’. And thank God that it’s big, because it fits your face perfectly–”

“– and your pussy too.”

“I’m trying to be sweet, Hiromi. Your nose is great because it’s your nose. Nothing more or less than that. Everything on your face, regardless of what other idiots think, is beautiful because it’s you. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” he laughs again as you playfully bite his ear. “You love my nose, got it.”

masterlist

a/n: i was lazing in bed not wanting to get up and then i thought 'i can write higuruma getting bossed around' and i immediately got up.

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER FIVE ━━ Happy Halloween

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 6.8K

☆ ━ warnings: beau being a dick, vaping, dani’s still depressed as shit, like idk

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: i’m sorry this chapter is so messy and all over the place it’s lowkey my least favorite so far, but good things are coming i promise!!!!

HIS MOUTH presses against hers with an intensity that makes Dani stiffen. Beau kisses her with a hunger that she doesn’t feel, his hands cupping her face, fingers in her hair, deepening it. His lips are rough, insistent, like he’s trying to draw something out of her that she doesn’t want to give.

Dani kisses him back because she knows she should. She tries to match his urgency, his need. But it feels all wrong, like she’s wearing someone else’s skin. Her heart isn’t in the kiss, isn’t with Beau at all. It drifts to other places—another person—and she can’t shake the growing discomfort building in her chest.

Beau’s hands roam lower, sliding from her face to her waist, gripping her hips firmly as he presses closer. The position is uncomfortable in the small confines of his car, and she shifts slightly. She thinks he takes that as an invitation, because he moves closer, his mouth trailing from her lips to her neck, kissing a path down to her collarbone, closer to her chest. The top she’s wearing leaves little to the imagination there, and he seems to like that. Dani’s breath hitches, body tensing. She isn’t here. She doesn’t want this.

But Beau doesn’t pay attention to the way her body recoils. He doesn’t notice how she stiffens under his touch. He’s too focused on his own need, his mouth feverish against her skin as he starts fumbling with the button of her jeans, eager to go further.

“Beau, stop,” Dani says softly, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t stop. His hands are moving too fast, his breath hot and uneven against her neck as he presses harder to her.

“Beau, stop,” she repeats, more forceful this time, her hands pushing at his chest.

He ignores her, his hand still tugging at her jeans, more urgent now. “You can’t just keep doing this. We haven’t—” He pulls back just enough to look at her, frustration written all over his face. “You barely even let me kiss you anymore. What’s the point of us if you’re just gonna shut down every time I try to get close?”

She slaps at his hand now, and he finally retracts it. “I said stop,” she mumbles, breath quickening.

Beau sits back in his seat, his face darkening slightly. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Jesus Christ, Dani. What the hell is your problem? We haven’t fucked in weeks. You won’t even touch me, and now this? What, do you not even want me anymore?” His voice grows louder, harsher with each word.

Dani stares at him, her chest tight, her hands trembling in her lap. She doesn’t have the words to explain it to him, can’t tell him how disgusted she feels with herself every time they’re together. How she feels like she’s living a lie, forcing herself into a relationship she doesn’t want, creating a life that isn’t meant to be hers. But all she can manage is a weak, “I just… I don’t feel like it, okay? Can’t you respect that?”

“Respect that?” Beau’s eyes narrow, and he scoffs, shaking his head. “How the hell am I supposed to respect that when you don’t give me anything to work with? I’ve been patient, Dani. I’ve tried to give you space. But I’m not one of your fucking Catholic saints. I have needs, too.”

Dani winces at his words, feeling the sting of guilt and shame twist in her stomach. She hates this, hates the way he makes it sound like she’s failing him by not being able to give him what he wanted. But at the same time, she hates herself more for letting it get this far—for pretending she can be someone she’s not.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry, okay? I just—”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Beau snaps, cutting her off. “I’ve been dealing with your bullshit for weeks now, Dani. You’re distant, you’re cold, you won’t even look me in the eyes half the time. If this is how it’s gonna be, then maybe we shouldn’t go to the Halloween party together tomorrow. Hell, maybe you shouldn’t come at all.”

Dani’s throat tightens, and she feels the hot prickle of tears burning behind her eyes. “Beau, I—”

“No.” His voice is sharp, final. “You need to figure your shit out. Because I can’t keep doing this.” He unlocks the car doors, staring at her expectantly. “Get out.”

Dani blinks, stunned, thinking she may have misheard. “What?”

“Get out of the car.” His eyes are hard, cold. “If you’re gonna be like this, then just… go. Walk home. Maybe that’ll give you time to think about what you really want.”

“Are you serious?” Dani’s snaps, looking at him in disbelief. They’re parked in some random lot, miles away from her house. It’s dark, and she has no way of getting home except by walking. She can’t even call someone to come pick her up, because her phone died a little bit ago.

“I said get out,” Beau repeats, his voice like ice.

Dani swallows hard, before scoffing, opening the passenger door. She steps out into the chilly night air, and, immediately, she wishes she brought a jacket, the small cropped shirt she’s got on not doing anything to shield the cold.

Before she can say anything else, Beau reaches over and slams the door shut from the inside. He speeds off, leaving her standing alone in the dark parking lot, the distant sound of his car’s engine fading into the night.

The silence around her is deafening. Dani stands frozen for a moment, her arms wrapped around herself as the cold wind bites at her skin. She blinks back the tears that blur her vision, the ones she desperately tried to keep in so that he couldn’t see them, her mind racing with thoughts of everything that led her to this moment.

She wants to scream. To sob. To fall apart. But there’s no one here to see it, no one to hear her.

With a deep, shuddering breath, she starts walking.

PAIGE’S HANDS lazily hold the steering wheel as she drives down the empty, dim lit street, the hum of her car’s engine and the quiet voice of Drake the only sounds to keep her company. She’s just left Thaliah’s house after a low-key night spent playing Fortnite, and she’s thankful now that she finally has her license—no more relying on her friends or her dad for rides. The freedom is nice, the kind of feeling she’s been craving for a while.

As she continues driving along the road, something flickers at the edge of her vision, pulling her from her thoughts. A figure. A lone person walking down the sidewalk. Paige furrows her brows as she drives past, the figure just barely visible under the faint glow of the streetlamp. She turns her head a little, squinting as she stares at her side mirrors. All she really sees from that view is long hair blowing in the wind. A girl. It’s late—after midnight—and what girl would be stupid enough to be walking alone at this time?

Paige’s mind runs through the possibilities, but something gnaws at her. The silhouette looked familiar, like someone she knows. Someone with a very specific walk, a hunched posture, a familiar dip of the head, long hair…

No way. No fucking way.

She’s driven past already, but the doubt lingers in her mind, tugging at her. Paige’s hands hover over the wheel, her foot still on the gas as she debates with herself. But her gut is screaming—if it had vocal chords, they would be shredded by now. Because if it’s who she thinks it is, she can’t just leave it alone. She can’t ignore it.

With a frustrated groan, Paige quickly makes a sharp U-turn to go back the way she came. The street is dead silent, save for the crunch of her tires on the pavement. As she nears the figure again, her heart rate speeds up. Please don’t let it be her. Please don’t let it be Dani.

But as she slows down, pulling up alongside the sidewalk, her breath catches in her throat. She should’ve known all along, shouldn’t have even questioned herself. Because consciously, subconsciously, in any way possible—Paige always knows Dani. She can pick her out in any crowd, so doing it on a deserted street isn’t so hard. And she’s very right, because this is Dani. Walking alone. And it’s cold as hell out, too. She’s wearing nothing but ripped jeans and a cropped t-shirt. What the fuck is she doing?

Paige slows to a stop, rolling down the passenger window. Dani immediately stiffens, her head whipping toward the car, eyes wide. Paige leans over, her voice cutting through the silence.

“Dani, what’re you doing?” she asks, her voice sharp with concern and an edge of accusation.

Dani stares at her in disbelief, her brows knitting together in surprise. “Fuck, I thought you were some old man about to kidnap me,” she mutters, wrapping her arms around herself as a gust of wind whips through the air.

Paige rolls her eyes, the tension easing from her chest just a bit. “No, I’m not gonna kidnap you,” she says flatly. “But someone else fucking might. Get in the car.”

Dani hesitates, her gaze flicking between Paige and the road ahead. Her lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, Paige thinks she might refuse. There’s a tension in Dani’s stance, a stubbornness that Paige knows all too well.

“Dani, seriously,” Paige presses, her tone firm, leaving no room for argument. “It’s freezing out. I’m not leaving you out here alone.”

Dani sighs, a puff of visible breath in the chilly air, before muttering, “Fine.” She reaches for the door handle, and with a click, the door swings open, and Dani slides into the passenger seat.

Paige immediately turns the heat up, casting a quick glance at Dani. Her arms are crossed, her shoulders hunched, and Paige can see her shivering, despite the attempt to seem unbothered. Paige’s chest tightens with concern as she wonders what the hell could’ve happened to land Dani in this situation.

For a few moments, the car is filled with an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of the heater kicking in. Paige tries to focus on the road, but her mind races with a million questions on why Dani’s out here in the first place, why she was walking all alone in the dark as a teenager girl that most certainly could not defend herself should a kidnapper find her.

“What were you doing out there?” Paige finally asks, her voice more gentle this time, though still laced with concern. “Why are you out this late by yourself?”

Dani shakes her head, her eyes fixed on the dashboard in front of her. “It’s nothing,” she mumbles, her voice flat, detached.

Paige frowns, tightening her grip on the wheel. “It’s not nothing. It’s past midnight, and you’re walking around in the cold like it’s the middle of the day. What happened?” she presses, sending a glance at her ex-best friend.

Dani stays silent for a moment, then scoffs lightly, turning to look at Paige. “When’d you get your license? I thought you couldn’t drive?”

Paige rolls her eyes, biting back her frustration. “Don’t change the subject, Dani.”

Dani shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, her arms tightening around her body like she’s trying to make herself smaller. “Just… drop it, Paige,” she replies, dismissive.

Paige exhales sharply, shifting her eyes over at her again. Dani’s walls are up, higher than ever. It isn’t like her to be this closed off with Paige. Or, at least, it hadn’t been like this before… before everything went sideways between them. No matter how much she hates it, Paige supposes she should get used to it—this is their new normal, after all.

“I’m not dropping it,” Paige shoots back, keeping her voice steady. “Not when I find you walking around alone at night looking like…” She trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence without pushing too far.

Dani’s jaw clenches. “Like what?” she snaps, her eyes flashing with an edge of anger.

“Like you’re not okay,” Paige says, softer now, her eyes darting between Dani and the road. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

Dani lets out a harsh breath, her fingers digging into her arms as she stares out the window. “I’m fine, Paige. Seriously.”

Paige doesn’t buy it for a second. Not with the way Dani’s sitting there, tense and cold and distant and—no matter how much she tries to hide it—vulnerable.

“Fine? Really? Because it sure doesn’t look like it,” Paige mutters. She knows she’s walking a fine line—at this point, Paige is probably the last person Dani wants to open up to right now, and pushing her too hard could make her shut down even more. But Paige can’t just sit there and pretend like everything is okay when it clearly isn’t.

Dani shakes her head again, more forcefully this time. “I’m fine. I just—” She cuts herself off, biting her lip, like she doesn’t even believe her own words.

Paige isn’t sure what it is, but something about Dani’s demeanor—the way she’s hunched over, trying to make herself disappear—makes her feel sick. Dani’s so different from the girl Paige used to know. Something’s wrong. Something’s been wrong for months now.

“Did Beau do something?” Paige asks quietly. It’s probably not the long term issue, the reason for the girl’s whole switch up, but Paige thinks it damn well could be the reason Dani’s in this situation tonight—and the thought makes the blonde’s stomach sick.

Dani stiffens immediately at the name. That reaction tells Paige everything she needs to know.

Nonetheless, Dani’s laugh is bitter, a sharp sound that cuts through the quiet car. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

Paige’s heart drops, her pulse quickening. “Dani…”

But Dani turns her head away, staring out the window like she can’t bear to look at Paige anymore. “Just drive me home, okay?”

Paige hesitates, her throat tight, but eventually, she nods, pressing her foot down on the gas. The tension in the car is palpable, and Paige hates it—hates the silence, hates the distance between them. But she feels like she’s exhausted all she can do to try and repair it between them, so she leaves it be, and turns up the music just slightly.

The road stretches out ahead, leading them back toward their neighborhood, toward the familiarity of home. But as the houses grow closer, Paige can’t shake the feeling that something is just deeply wrong. And this isn’t just about tonight. It isn’t just about Dani walking alone in the dark.

This is about everything that’s happened between them—everything that’s changed since Dani was sent to that camp over the summer. Since Dani had come back different. Closed off. Dani hasn’t been the same since she returned, and even though Paige doesn’t know the full story—well, doesn’t even know an ounce of if, actually—she can still feel the weight of it.

Paige glances over at Dani once more, but Dani’s back to staring out the window, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself. In spite of everything, Dani’s still shivering, and Paige knows it’s not from the cold—the heat has surrounded her car by now. It’s about everything else.

They turn down their street, the familiar houses coming into view, bathed in the soft glow of porch lights. Paige can see her house up ahead, just a few doors down from Dani’s. Normally, this is where they’d share a goodbye, a see-you-later. But nothing is normal anymore.

Paige slows as they near Dani’s house, and for a moment, she considers just pulling into her own driveway, since their houses are right next to each other. But something stops her. Even if they live right next door, this still feels different. Dani needs more from her than just a quick drop-off. Paige needs to make sure Dani knows she’s not alone, even if she can’t fix whatever’s going on.

So, she pulls into Dani’s driveway instead, parking right next to Dani’s car. Paige’s car idles for a second, the engine’s soft hum the only sound between them. Paige shifts in her seat, looking over at Dani, who still hadn’t moved.

“You’re home,” Paige says quietly, breaking the silence.

Dani finally tears her eyes away from the window and sets her eyes on Paige, her expression guarded, tired. For a second, Paige thinks Dani’s just going to get out without a word, like every other time they’ve had one of these stilted, painful interactions. But then, Dani surprises her.

Dani shifts in her seat, turning slightly so she can look at Paige more directly. Her eyes soften, just for a moment, as she holds the blonde’s gaze. “Thank you,” she says quietly, her voice low but sincere. “For picking me up.”

Paige blinks, caught off guard by the sudden change in Dani’s tone. There’s no anger, no sarcasm, no bitterness in her voice. It’s raw, earnest. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Paige sees a glimpse of the old Dani—the one who didn’t have walls up between them. The one who trusted her.

Paige nods, unable to find her voice for a second. “Yeah. Of course,” she manages to say, her heart aching at how much she misses that side of Dani. The side that isn’t buried under layers of pain and fear.

Dani lingers for a moment, her eyes searching Paige’s face, like there’s something she wants to say but can’t find the words. Then, without another word, she reaches for the door handle and steps out of the car. Paige watches as Dani walks toward her front door, her shoulders hunched against the cold, but there’s something softer in her movements now. Something less defensive.

Paige stays in the car, watching as Dani unlocks her door and steps inside, the porch light flickering off as the door clicks shut behind her. The house swallows her up, and Paige is left sitting there in the quiet, her mind racing with everything that’s just happened.

It isn’t much. A simple thank you. But it’s the first real crack in the wall Dani’s built between them, and Paige can’t help but hold on to that. Maybe it’s a start.

She sighs softly, leaning back in her seat for a moment before putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the driveway. As she makes her way back to her own house, just a few yards away, Paige can’t shake the feeling that things are far from okay between them. But for the first time in a long time, she feels like maybe there’s hope.

And for now, that’s enough.

PAIGE SITS cross-legged on Thaliah’s bed, absentmindedly picking at the hem of her shirt, while Jalen lounges next to her, scrolling through his phone. Both of them are already dressed in their costumes, though neither put in much effort. Paige went the simple route—she’s wearing an old basketball jersey with some fake blood smeared across her face, playing the part of some sort of dead or zombie hooper—she doesn’t even really know herself, if she’s honest. Jalen wears a black hoodie and he’s got a plastic scythe, calling himself the Grim Reaper. Basic, but effective.

Thaliah, on the other hand, is still in front of her vanity, meticulously applying the finishing touches to her makeup. She’s going all out, dressed as a witch, complete with dramatic eye shadow, dark lipstick, and glitter cascading along her cheekbones. Her hair is done up in some complicated updo, and Paige is sure Thaliah will be the best dressed person at the party. As usual.

Paige leans back, resting on her hands, eyes distant as she vents, her voice low but agitated. “I just don’t get it. Like, why the hell would Dani even doing out there last night? Alone? She was walking by herself literally at twelve-thirty, J. She could’ve gotten kidnapped or murdered or—or something!” Her voice wavered with frustration and disbelief, and she glances at Jalen, hoping he’ll give some sort of input.

Jalen shrugs a little, tossing his phone aside and turning toward her. His brows are furrowed in the way they are only when he’s concerned. “Yeah, it’s fuckin’ weird, P. Did you ask her what happened?”

Paige lets out a sigh, her frustration evident. “Of course I did. She just brushed it off, said it was ‘nothing’—like that’s supposed to make me feel better about it.” She throws her hands up in the air, expressing the confusion she’s feeling. “And I swear, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. She was, like, literally freezing and she looked so sad and I’m just like—what the hell happened?”

Thaliah, still working on her eyeliner, chimes in from the vanity, not looking up but clearly listening. “Dani’s been distant for months, Paige. It’s been off ever since she got back from camp. I don’t think it’s just about last night. Something’s been wrong for a while now.”

Paige nods, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jersey. “I know. But last night just made it so much more real. I feel like—I don’t know—I feel like something happened. Maybe it was Beau. Maybe he did something to her.”

At that, Jalen’s eyes narrow slightly. He’s always quick to jump to conclusions when it comes to Beau Hudson, a guy that he’s had problems with for years now. “You think he hurt her? I mean, he is the type.”

Paige bites her lip, her mind racing with the possibilities. “I don’t know. Maybe? It’s not like Dani would tell me, though. She doesn’t talk to me anymore.”

There’s a long pause as all three of them sit in the heavy silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. They’s all thinking the same thing—what the hell happened to Dani? The girl they all knew so well has practically disappeared, replaced by someone colder, someone more distant, someone more shallow.

Thaliah finally puts down her eyeliner, spinning around in her chair to face them. “Something’s definitely up with her. But I don’t think it’s Beau that’s the main problem. I mean, she started acting like this before she and that bitch boy got together. Paige, I know you weren’t here when it happened, but she started dating Beau after she cut J and I off,” Thaliah points out, staring at the pair of her friend son the bed expectantly. But then she sighs, shaking her head, adding, “But if she’s not talking, what are we supposed to do? Just keep watching her spiral and probably ruin her life? Like, I don’t even know.”

Paige clenches her jaw, her mind racing with the memory of Dani walking along that dark sidewalk, looking so alone, so vulnerable. “I don’t want to just sit back and do nothing.” But she knows Thaliah is right—there’s really not much they can do if Dani won’t give them the light of day.

Thaliah shakes her head a little before standing up and moving toward her bed, where Paige and Jalen sit. She grabs her vape off the nightstand and takes a long drag, blowing the smoke out in a cloud that lingers in the air before dissipating. “Look, Dani’s been different for a while, but we can’t fix it tonight. We can’t fix her tonight.”

Paige frowns, her stomach sinking at those words. Fix her. It isn’t like Dani’s broken, but she isn’t herself either. Still, she understands what Thaliah is saying. She just doesn’t like it.

Thaliah hands the vape to Paige, raising her eyebrows when Paige hesitates before taking it. “C’mon, you need to relax. It’s Halloween. We’re supposed to be having fun, not stressing out over all this. Dani’s a tomorrow problem.”

Paige rolls her eyes but accepts the vape anyway, taking a small hit and handing it back. The familiar burn fills her lungs for a moment before she exhales, watching the smoke curl up toward the ceiling. “I just hate that we don’t know what’s going on with her.”

Jalen sits up straighter, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ll figure it out, P. We just have to give her time. Maybe tonight, she’ll show up at the party, and we can talk to her then.”

Thaliah shakes her head, leaning back against her vanity. “Doubt it. She’s been avoiding us for weeks. Even if she shows, it’ll be with Hudson and that prissy Serena girl, and it’ll end in shit like it did last time.”

Paige knows Thaliah’s probably right. They’ve gone to the same parties a couple times since school started, and each time, Dani stays closed to Beau Hudson and Serena Corren’s sides, not bothering to give any attention to Paige. The odds of her suddenly showing up and deciding to speak to them at tonight’s Halloween thing seems slim. Still, Paige can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, Dani will surprise her.

Thaliah takes another drag from the vape before offering it back to Paige, who takes another hit, letting the smoke relax her nerves just a bit. “But seriously,” Thaliah says as she exhales, “tonight’s about us. Let’s just have fun, forget about all the drama, and worry about Dani tomorrow. It’s Halloween! We deserve a good night.”

Paige smiles faintly, nodding. Thaliah’s right. Tonight is supposed to be fun. Maybe she can take a break from worrying for one night. Maybe.

And, she thinks maybe she really actually can, because the party does turn out to be fun. It’s a lot different from the last party she went to, the one where she drank herself stupid and fought Beau Hudson. She doesn’t regret the second part… just thinks she could’ve found a better way to do it. But tonight, she’s the designated driver, meaning she’s sticking to her Sprite, laying off the alcohol. But it doesn’t really matter. She doesn’t need to drink to have fun with her friends—especially on Halloween.

The house is decked out for Halloween—fake spider webs hanging from the ceiling, carved pumpkins in every corner, and purple lights casting shadows along the walls. Most people are dressed in costumes, though a lot are half-assed like Paige and Jalen’s. Paige gets a laugh out of a guy dressed in a banana costume, dancing on a table, though.

Eventually, Paige, Jalen, and Thaliah settle in the living room, perching on the couches and standing with some of their other friends from school and basketball and such. It’s easy, it’s fun, the atmosphere is lively but not chaotic. Paige enjoys it.

That is, until out of the corner of her eye, she spots them.

Beau Hudson, Serena Corren, and the rest of that group Dani’s been hanging around with lately are clustered near the kitchen, laughing and talking amongst themselves. Paige’s stomach tightens, her eyes scanning the group for one specific person. Dani. But as she searches, she realizes with a sinking feeling that Dani isn’t here.

Paige narrows her eyes slightly, confused. Dani’s always with them—whenever Beau and his friends show up to a party, the girl’s practically glued to his side. But tonight, she’s nowhere around.

Paige glances over at Thaliah, who’s too busy chatting with some girls to notice her. So, the blonde taps Jalen on the shoulder, nodding toward Beau and his friends. “Hudson’s here,” she acknowledges.

Jalen follows her gaze, rolling his eyes. “Dick,” he mutters, his disdain for the quarterback evident. He stares at the group for a second longer before Paige watches a familiar flicker of confusion cross along his face. “Dani’s not with ‘em?”

Paige shakes her head, mind racing. It’s so weird. Ever since Dani started dating Beau, they‘be been almost inseparable, especially at parties like this. But now, Dani just… gone. And it doesn’t sit right with Paige. Especially not after what happened last night.

However, before she can dwell on it too long, nature calls. She needs to pee. Paige stands up, muttering something to Jalen about finding the bathroom. As she makes her way through the crowded house, her mind stays locked on the thought of the Callan girl. Maybe Paige is just being dramatic. Maybe Dani is here and she just hasn’t seen her and she’s worrying for no reason.

When she finally finds the hallway leading to the bathroom, she groans. There’s a line.

And the person standing at the back of the line? None other than Beau Hudson himself.

Paige’s eyes narrow as she approaches, trying to play it casual. She leans against the wall, taking Thaliah’s vape out of her pocket and bringing it to her lips. She inhales, letting the vapor fill her lungs as she stares at the back of Beau’s head. He hasn’t noticed her yet, so she waits a beat before speaking.

“Dani here?” she asks, her tone nonchalant.

Beau turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder at her. His expression is somewhere between annoyed and smug, like he can’t be bothered with her question. “Nope,” he replies shortly, turning back to face the bathroom door as if that’s the end of the conversation.

But Paige isn’t done. She presses, “How come?”

Beau scoffs, a low, bitter sound that grates on Paige’s nerves. “You’re fuckin’ nosy, Bueckers,” he mutters, barely looking at her.

Paige raises an eyebrow, not backing down. “Well, when it comes to Dani, yeah. I am.” Her voice is sharp, but controlled. She isn’t about to let him dismiss her like that.

Beau finally turns to face her fully, his expression twisted with irritation. “Why do you care, anyway? You’re not even friends anymore.”

Paige clenches her jaw, holding his gaze. “Doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

For a moment, there’s a tense silence between them, the music and chatter from the party seeming distant in comparison to the charged atmosphere in the hallway. Paige can feel her heart racing, could feel the anger bubbling under the surface.

Beau breaks the silence first, rolling his eyes as if he can’t be bothered with her anymore. “She’s probably rotting in her bedroom right now. I told her not to come.”

Paige blinks, caught off guard by the harshness in his voice. “What? Why?”

Beau shrugs, leaning casually against the wall as if what he’s saying is no big deal. Which, to him, it probably isn’t. “She’s been a bitch lately. Told her to stay home.”

Paige’s grip on the vape tightens as a rush of anger surges through her. She hates him. She hates how he talks about Dani like that, like she’s just some inconvenience instead of his girlfriend. The same girlfriend he’s never deserved.

The same girlfriend that Paige picked up in the middle of the night last night.

Her gaze slides to Beau, and before she can stop herself, the words are out of her mouth. “Did you do something to Dani last night?”

Beau’s head snaps toward her, his eyes narrowing. “What the fuck are you talking about?” His tone is defensive, a little too defensive for someone who’s supposedly innocent.

Paige doesn’t back down, her pulse quickening as the frustration bubbles to the surface. “Last night,” she repeats, her voice steady. “I found her walking home alone in the middle of the night. She wouldn’t even tell me what was going on. So I’m asking you, Beau—did you leave her out there?”

Beau’s expression shifts, his jaw tightening as he stands up straighter, his arms dropping to his sides. “Are you seriously accusing me of something?” he snaps, his voice low and threatening. “I didn’t leave her anywhere.”

Paige scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares him down. “Then why was she out there, alone? She looked like she’d been crying.”

Beau rolls his eyes, but there’s something uneasy in the way he shifts on his feet, something that makes Paige’s stomach twist. “I don’t know, Paige. Maybe she was crying because she’s a fucking mess lately.”

Paige’s eyes flash with anger. “She’s a mess? You’re her boyfriend. Aren’t you supposed to, I don’t know, give a shit?”

Beau’s lips curl into a sneer. “You don’t know anything about our relationship, so maybe you should keep your nose out of it.”

Paige takes a step closer, her voice lowering as she looks down on him ever so slightly—having those couple inches on him. “I know enough to know something’s wrong with her. She’s not herself, and you’re just standing here acting like you don’t care.”

Beau’s face hardens, and for a second, Paige thinks he might actually shove her away. They’ve had a physical fight before—what’s another one? But instead, he takes a step back, exhaling sharply as he glares at her. “You think this is my fault? You think I’m the one who’s making her act like this? You have no idea what she’s like, Bueckers. You only ever saw the good parts of her.”

Paige’s heart skips a beat, but she doesn’t flinch. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” she reports.

Beau huffs out a humorless laugh, his gaze flicking to the bathroom door as it remains stubbornly closed. “It means that she’s been a bitch lately, okay? Just like I said before. Moody as hell. I’m not her fuckin’ babysitter, like, Jesus Christ.”

Paige feels her hands clench into fists at her sides. “So you’re just going to leave her to deal with whatever’s going on by herself? Real classy, Hudson.”

Before Beau can respond, the bathroom door swings open, and a couple stumbles out, laughing drunkenly and clinging to each other. Paige shoots them a disgusted look—God only knows what they had been doing in there. Beau takes advantage of the distraction, slipping past her and heading straight for the open bathroom.

Before he disappears inside, he shoots Paige one last glance, his expression dark and full of resentment. “Stay out of it, Paige.”

The door slams shut behind him, leaving Paige standing in the hallway, her heart racing with anger and confusion. She leans against the wall, lifting Thaliah’s vape to her lips and taking another long drag, the vapor filling her lungs as she tries to calm herself down.

Stay out of it? He’s fucking stupid if he thinks that’ll stop her from doing anything.

She exhales slowly, her mind still spinning with everything that just happened. Beau’s words leave a bitter taste in her mouth, but more than that, they leave her with an even deeper sense of worry for Dani. There’s something wrong, and Beau either doesn’t know how to handle it or simply doesn’t care enough to try.

Paige closes her eyes for a moment, leaning her head back against the wall as the sound of the party buzzes around her. Halloween is Dani’s favorite holiday. Dani’s always, always loved it, always got excited about dressing up, about watching horror movies and going to parties with their friends. She and Paige have done coordinating costumes every year since forever. But this year? Dani’s sitting at home, probably miserable by the sound of things, and Paige wants to help. To do anything to help.

She takes another drag, and thinks.

DANI LAYS on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the silence in the room pressing down on her. Halloween has always been her favorite day of the year, the one she looks forward to the most. But tonight, it feels hollow. She glances around her bedroom—dimly lit, the shadows from her string lights casting a soft glow on the walls. It’s quiet, too quiet, and that’s the problem. Her friends are all probably at a party somewhere, dressed up in ridiculous costumes, laughing, drinking, having the time of their lives.

But she isn’t there. Not with Beau and Serena and everyone else she was meant to go out with tonight.

And certainly not with Paige and Thaliah and Jalen, who she’s spent every Halloween with for years.

The thought stings like an open wound. Halloween’s always been something she and Paige share—whether it was sneaking candy at sleepovers when they were younger or staying up late to watch horror movies that terrified them both, or—more recently—attending the dumbest parties and getting shit-faced. But this year, Dani’s alone, cut off from everything and everyone that once made her feel like herself.

She lets out a long sigh, sitting up in bed. She decides to be masochistic, and pulls one of her old scrapbooks from her the drawer in her bedside table. This is so stupid, she thought, thumbing through the pages. She hasn’t added to it in months, not since before everything changed. Not since her dad sent her to that place. She flips through the pages, her eyes scanning the scrawled handwriting, the cut photos, the scattered tape, reliving bits and pieces of her old life—laughing with Thaliah, playing (and losing) basketball with Jalen, sneaking out with Paige, pretending nothing could ever come between them.

Before camp. Before everything got fucked up.

Her heart clenches as she turns to an old picture tucked between the pages. It’s the two of them—her and Paige. Taken last Halloween, in matching costumes they’d thrown together at the last minute. Dani smiles faintly at the memory, the way Paige had made her laugh so hard that night she thought she’d never catch her breath. It had been one of the best nights of her life, but now it feels like a lifetime ago, like it belongs to a different version of her—a version of Dani that no longer exists.

Dani’s throat tightens as the memories overwhelmed her. She drops the scrapbook on the bed and covers her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling. I still love her. The realization hits her like a ton of bricks, the words echoing in her mind over and over. She loves Paige. She always has. But it feels so impossible now, so wrong, so tainted. After everything that’s happened, after the months apart, after the cold distance between them, after everything that’s been cemented into Dani’s head, how can they ever get back to what they used to be?

Tears blur Dani’s vision as she buries her face in her hands, her body shaking with quiet sobs. She wants to be the girl she used to be—the carefree, happy, whole version of herself that hadn’t been shattered by her father’s cruelty, by the camp, by the guilt that now consumes her every waking thought. She wants to go back to the way things were before her mind became warped and twisted by everything she‘a been forced to believe.

But she can’t. She doesn’t know how.

She cries until her chest aches, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She feels like she’s drowning, and there’s no one there to pull her out of the deep end. She’s lost so much—her friends, her sense of self, her relationship with Paige. Who is she now? She doesn’t even know anymore.

Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the empty house, pulling Dani out of her thoughts. She wipes at her tear-streaked face, frowning as she glances at the clock on her nightstand. It’s way too late for trick-or-treaters, and no one else os home. Her dad is out for the night, and the house has been dead quiet for hours.

Confused, Dani gets up from her bed, pulling on her hoodie as she makes her way downstairs. The doorbell rings again just as she reaches the bottom of the staircase, and she hesitates for a moment before opening the door.

The porch is empty.

Dani blinks, her heart racing as she stepped outside and glances around. There was no one in sight—just the dark, empty street in front of her house. She thinks maybe it’s just some stupid Halloween prank until she looks down. There’s a small basket sitting on the porch, filled with Twix and Sour Patch Kids and Snickers—all of her favorite candies. Her breath catches in her throat as she crouches down, her fingers trembling as she picks it up.

Sitting on top of the candy is a folded note.

Dani’s heart pounds in her chest as she opens the note, her eyes scanning the familiar handwriting:

Dan,

Please know that if you ever need to talk to anyone, I am always here for you. I hope this basket makes your Halloween a little better.

P <3

Dani’s vision blurs with tears again, but this time, they aren’t necessarily tears of sadness. They’re something else—something warmer, softer. Paige left this for her. Paige went out of her way to make sure Dani wasn’t completely alone tonight.

She clutches the note to her chest, her heart aching in a way that feels both painful and comforting all at once. Paige has always been there for her, even now, even when everything is so broken, so different. Dani stands on the porch for a long moment, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she stares down at the basket.

She lets herself be a little optimistic. She thinks that maybe not everything is lost.

[vivwritesfics]

BEST FRIEND TYLER FIC I BEG WITH SHENANIGANS AND CARING TYLER JUST BEING AN ABSOLUTE ANGEL

Lmao she knows about the bestie Tyler stuff I already have

There was nothing better than watching Tyler do what he did best. Watching him chasing storms, that grin on his face.

She held on as he drove into the storm, grin matching his. This was just for them. It wasn't for his YouTube, wasn't a moment to be monetised. It was just them.

"Ty!" She shrieked through a giggle as he anchored the truck down. There they sat, watching as the storm happened around them.

It would have been so easy to lean over and kiss him. But that would have ruined near thirty years of friendship. But he looked so pretty with his cap backwards on his head. His grin, the way his eyes shined, she couldn't get enough.

"Wanna get something to eat after this?" He asked as he placed his hand on her knee.

She squeezed his hand between her legs and gave a nod. "Think we can camp out in here tonight?"

"Why do you think I always keep blankets in the back?"

They got food, fast food, and headed to the store for snacks. Tyler paid for everything; he always did. And then they were back in the truck, heading into the middle of a field somewhere.

They'd been doing it since they were kids. Every time something happened, this was where they ended up.

As soon as they were parked, Tyler climbed into the back. He set up the blankets and patted the space beside him.

It was fine, laying against him and watching the stars while he muttered sweet things against her hair. It was sweet, but it could have been more.

She just wanted it to be more.

[anniebeemine]

Count Your Luck- s.r.

a/n: I was thinking about this post for days before I finally sat down to write this. Thank you to @frankiebirds for making the initial post.

warnings: Roommate Spencer, reader insert, slightly illegal activities, mentions of stripping, brief mention of violence, littlest part about a man being creepy

word count: 12.2k words

“This is due at the end of the month?” Spencer asked, his voice tight as he stared at the bill in his hands. The number printed at the bottom was enough to make his heart stop.

The woman behind the counter nodded, her expression softening into one of pity. “Yeah, sugar. By the end of the month.” He could see the sympathy in her eyes, the way she looked at him like he was just a kid in over his head. Because he was.

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling the lump in his throat tighten. He knew she was trying to be kind, but it only made him feel worse. He tried to focus on the task at hand, not on the gnawing realization that he would never be able to scrape together this much money in time. Even if he asked for an extension, it would just push the problem down the road, leaving him trapped in a vicious cycle of bills and deadlines.

He glanced over at the doorway to the common area of the facility, where his mother sat by the window, staring out at the garden. She looked peaceful there, a faint smile playing on her lips as sunlight filtered through the glass. She was safe here, comfortable—at least, as comfortable as she could be, given her condition. Her episodes were fewer and farther between now, the staff attentive and compassionate, but the care she needed came at a steep price.

Spencer’s stomach twisted as he thought about the guilt that had plagued him since the day he’d signed the papers to have her committed. It was the right thing to do—he knew that—but it didn’t make it any easier. His mother needed help he couldn’t give her. The facility was the best option, but it was also the most expensive.

He turned back to the woman at the counter, his voice hoarse. “Is there... any way to lower the cost? Maybe work out a payment plan?”

She shook her head, her pity deepening. “I’m afraid we already have you on the lowest rate we can offer. I wish I had better news for you, sweetheart.”

Spencer nodded, his heart sinking. “I understand,” he said quietly, folding the bill and tucking it into his jacket pocket. “Thank you.”

He stepped outside into the cold winter air, exhaling a shaky breath. His mind raced as he walked, the weight of his responsibilities bearing down on him. He was barely 18, still trying to figure out how to navigate the world on his own, and now this. 

As he made his way to the bus stop, he thought about his own situation. He had just begun his winter semester, juggling an intense class schedule, and he’d recently signed a lease for an apartment with a roommate he’d never even met. They were matched by the apartment manager, both desperate to fill their spaces. He hadn’t even had a chance to settle in yet, let alone get to know the person he’d be living with for the next year.

Spencer wrapped his coat tighter around himself, the wind biting at his skin. The idea of asking his roommate for help crossed his mind, but he dismissed it almost as quickly as it came. They were probably in the same boat, scraping by just to cover rent and tuition. And what would he even say? ‘Hi, I’m Spencer, nice to meet you—by the way, do you have a couple thousand dollars lying around?’

No. This was his burden to bear.

When he arrived at his apartment later that evening, the place was dark and quiet. His new roommate hadn’t moved in yet, and the silence was almost suffocating. He dropped his bag by the door and sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. The enormity of everything pressed down on him—the bills, the coursework, his mother’s care, the future stretching out ahead of him, uncertain and terrifying.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He had to keep it together. There was no other option.

The next day, Spencer dragged his feet to class, exhaustion gnawing at him. The morning sun hadn’t done much to wake him up, and his mind still buzzed from the constant worry. His mother, the bills, his studies—it was all too much. As the professor droned on about advanced quantum mechanics, Spencer tried to focus, but his brain kept slipping back to his mother, her care facility, and the mounting cost of it all.

When class finally let out, he practically ran to his on-campus job in the cafeteria. It wasn’t glamorous, not by a long shot. He worked in the dish room, scrubbing and rinsing plates, silverware, and trays, running them through the industrial sanitizing machine. The smell was stomach-churning, a mix of stale food, wet sponges, and industrial soap. It clung to him no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, but it was money—money he needed desperately.

As he started the sanitizing machine, Spencer did the math in his head. If he worked enough hours, he might be able to pay this month's bills by Christmas. He counted his paycheck before he even received it, trying to figure out how much more he needed to make ends meet. His stomach twisted. Even though he could breeze through most of his homework, he couldn’t take on another job without spreading himself too thin. His body was already showing signs of the strain—exhaustion, hunger, stress-induced headaches.

Leaning against the machine, Spencer felt the weight of everything press down on him. His mind started spiraling, thoughts racing about deadlines and debts, his mother’s well-being, and the pressure of school. It was only when the machine beeped that he snapped back to reality. With a heavy sigh, he pulled the trays from the machine and got back to work.

Later, he rushed to his next class, sliding in two minutes late. His jeans were soaked at the hems from the dish room floor, and his fingers were wrinkled and sore. But he sat down, doing his best to settle in for the lecture. He couldn’t afford to fall behind, no matter how overwhelmed he felt.

By the time he made it back to his apartment that evening, he was dead on his feet. The hallway leading to his door was a maze of plain boxes, stacked haphazardly against the walls. Spencer’s brows furrowed as he carefully weaved through them. Standing in the middle of it all was a woman, her arms wrapped around a small, white dog that shivered and barked at Spencer as he approached.

"Tootsie, hush," the woman muttered, silencing the dog. The air around her smelled of expensive perfume—too strong, especially after a day in the dishroom.

Spencer gave her a tight-lipped smile, feeling out of place, then noticed his apartment door was open. Before he could ask what was going on, a tall man, about his age, stepped out of the doorway, nearly bumping into him.

"Uh, sorry," Spencer said, awkwardly shifting his bag higher on his shoulder. "I’m Spencer. I live here."

The man gave him a once-over before offering a quick nod. "Ricky. I’m just helping my sister move in."

Spencer blinked, confusion flickering across his face. "Your sister?"

Ricky nodded in the direction of the woman with the dog. "Yeah. Y/N. She’s, uh... she's the one moving in."

As if realizing that his sister would be living with another man, Ricky puffed out his chest slightly, standing a little taller, his posture becoming subtly defensive. Spencer didn’t miss the shift, but he also wasn’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t a threat, but Ricky clearly wanted to make sure he knew where things stood.

Y/N approached, flashing a warm smile as she juggled the dog in one arm and extended her hand toward Spencer. "Hi, I’m Y/N. I guess we’re going to be roommates."

Spencer waved, unsure if he should shake her hand while she held the squirming dog. "Nice to meet you."

The interaction was awkward, but Y/N’s friendliness helped ease the tension a little. Spencer glanced back at Ricky, who still looked a bit uneasy. "How are you finding the apartment so far?" he asked, trying to make small talk.

"It’s fine," Ricky replied shortly, still sizing Spencer up. "But, uh, Y/N’s the one living here, not me."

Spencer nodded, feeling the tension ease slightly. "Got it. Well... welcome, I guess."

Y/N grinned, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thanks. It’s a bit chaotic right now, but I think we’ll settle in soon."

Spencer smiled back, though his mind was already racing with thoughts about the new roommate dynamic, the bills, and how this new chapter was going to unfold.

Spencer excused himself to shower, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling at him. "I’ll let you guys finish up," he mumbled, giving a small, awkward wave as he stepped past Ricky and Y/N. His feet dragged as he made his way to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. The soft click of the lock felt like the only solid thing in a day that had otherwise spun wildly out of control.

He leaned against the door for a moment, taking in a deep breath. The tension in his shoulders felt like it had seeped into his bones. The exhaustion from class, work, and now the unexpected change in his living situation pressed down on him. His mind buzzed, running through endless calculations—his budget, the bills, his studies—and now the added complication of a new roommate he hadn’t planned for.

Spencer peeled off his soaked jeans and grimy shirt, tossing them into the laundry bin before heading into the small bathroom. The hot water felt like a temporary escape, but even that couldn’t fully wash away the day. He let the water beat down on his tired muscles, trying to clear his mind, but all he could think about was how much more complicated things had become.

The shower didn’t last long. After dressing in an old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, Spencer collapsed onto his bed. He thought about picking up one of his textbooks, catching up on some reading, but the thought of focusing on anything academic felt impossible at that moment. His mind was a knot of worry and fatigue.

Lying back against the pillows, he stared up at the ceiling, trying to push the thoughts away. But they persisted, swirling around like a storm he couldn’t escape. Outside his room, he could hear the faint sounds of boxes being moved and hushed conversations between Ricky and Y/N. The light shuffling of cardboard against the floor, the occasional frustrated hiss from Ricky about where things should go, and Y/N’s soothing tone filled the apartment. They weren’t loud, but it was just enough to keep Spencer’s mind awake, hovering on the edge of sleep but never quite tipping over.

He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but the unfamiliarity of the sounds and the day’s stress made it impossible. His thoughts jumped from one thing to the next—his mom, the medical bills, his winter semester, and now, this new roommate who came with a brother that seemed more than ready to take on a protective role.

As the night wore on, Spencer couldn’t help but feel like everything was slipping out of his control. He was used to having everything carefully managed, but now, with his mother’s care weighing heavily on him, and the added pressure of keeping up with his studies, this new shift in his living arrangements made him feel like he was teetering on the edge.

Eventually, as the shuffling in the apartment faded and the apartment quieted down, Spencer found himself drifting into a restless sleep. But even then, his dreams were filled with fragmented images of bills piling up, his mother’s vacant stare in the facility, and the growing distance between him and the life he wanted to lead.

Tomorrow, he thought vaguely as sleep finally overtook him. He’d deal with everything tomorrow.

The next morning, Spencer woke to the faint sounds of movement from the living room. When he emerged from his room, still groggy, he found Y/N already up, sitting cross-legged on the floor, sorting through a pile of shirts. Her hair was pulled back, and the soft morning light filtered in through the windows, casting long shadows over the mess of boxes still scattered around.

"Sorry if I was too loud last night," she said without looking up, her voice light but carrying a hint of apology.

Spencer, grabbing a bowl of cereal, shrugged. "It's fine," he replied, offering a small smile she probably didn’t see. The clatter of his spoon against the bowl filled the quiet air as he sat at the small kitchen table, his mind already racing with the day ahead. There were the usual things to stress over—his classes, his job, the bills—never-ending responsibilities that seemed to pile on like the dirty dishes he'd scrubbed the night before. But now, at least half the rent was covered. That thought brought a slight sense of relief. One less thing to worry about, at least for now.

The January weather in Las Vegas was brisk, cooler than most people expected from a desert city. A chill crept in through the windows, and Spencer made a mental note to grab his jacket on the way out. The mornings were deceptively cold this time of year, even if the afternoons warmed up. Y/N hummed quietly to herself as she continued folding clothes, and Spencer, despite his usual social awkwardness, found himself oddly comfortable with the silence that hung between them.

"I'm heading out," he muttered after finishing his cereal, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. Y/N looked up and gave a quick wave as he headed for the door.

"Good luck with your classes," she said, and for a moment, Spencer hesitated, feeling something like gratitude bloom unexpectedly in his chest.

He gave a quick goodbye and left the apartment, stepping into the crisp morning air. The sky was a pale blue, the sun just beginning to rise above the skyline. He hopped on his bike and pedaled toward the science building, the cold wind biting at his face. It was going to be a long day—hours spent in and out of labs, followed by an exam he had to ace if he wanted to keep his GPA where it needed to be.

By the time evening rolled around, Spencer found himself standing at the bus stop, waiting to catch the bus to his second job. His fingers, still slightly wrinkled from handling lab equipment all day, fidgeted as he checked the schedule. The bus to the restaurant was pulling up, but another one—Bus 47, heading directly to the casinos—caught his eye.

He hated the valet job. The tips were terrible, the hours long, and it always felt like he was wasting time when he could be studying or working on something that actually mattered. The idea hit him all at once, and before he could think twice, Spencer made a split-second decision. He ignored his usual bus and boarded the one bound for the strip instead. His heart pounded in his chest as he sat down, clutching the strap of his satchel tightly.

The strip was as garish and glamorous as always, lights flashing and the distant sound of slot machines filling the air. Spencer stepped off the bus, feeling out of place among the well-dressed crowd. People in sleek suits and elegant dresses strolled through the casino floor, sipping on overpriced drinks. He glanced down at himself—jeans, a hoodie, his worn satchel slung over his shoulder—and felt like an outsider.

But he didn’t stop. He kept walking, weaving through the bustling casino, trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his mind, the one that kept telling him this was a bad idea.

The sinister thought crept up slowly, and Spencer found himself trying to shove it down. Counting cards—it wasn’t exactly illegal, but it was frowned upon. And for someone like him, it wouldn’t be difficult. He knew the math, the probabilities, the strategies. It would be easy. Too easy. He tried to push the idea away, but it lingered, gnawing at him, tempting him. After all, wasn’t this a way to fix everything? To take control for once, to stop worrying about bills, about rent, about his mother’s care?

Before he could talk himself out of it, he walked up to the cashier and traded in his emergency cash for chips. His hand shook slightly as he held the stack, heart pounding louder than ever. He found a blackjack table near the back, away from the main crowd, and sat down. Spencer stared at the green felt, his mind calculating the odds before the dealer even shuffled the cards.

He took a deep breath and placed his first bet, knowing full well there was no turning back now.

Spencer’s leg bounced the entire bus ride back. His heart hadn’t stopped racing since he left the casino, and now, sitting there with a small mountain of cash stuffed in his backpack, he felt more jittery than ever. He was too shaky to ride his bike the rest of the way, so he walked, clutching the bag tightly against his chest. Every step felt surreal. What had he done?

By the time he made it home, the hallway was dark and quiet. He fumbled with his keys, his hands trembling, and slipped inside the apartment as quietly as he could. Y/N’s door was closed, the light from beneath faint, and the thought of anyone seeing him right now—of anyone knowing what he had just done—made his stomach twist. He hurried to his room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring at his backpack as if it were something dangerous. Then, with a shaky breath, Spencer sat down on the edge of his bed and unzipped the bag. Inside, wrapped haphazardly in his hoodie, was the cash. More money than he had ever seen in one place, let alone had in his possession. His fingers were trembling as he pulled it out, the stack thicker than he’d expected.

He counted it out slowly, each bill feeling heavier than the last. His eyes stung with tears as he finished, the reality of it hitting him like a wave. It was enough. Enough to pay his mother’s bill at the hospital, enough for groceries for the week, maybe even enough to put a little aside for rent. It was more money than he had ever made at his jobs. But it wasn’t the kind of money that came without a cost.

Spencer sniffed, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. His head dropped into his hands, and for a moment, he let the guilt, the shame, and the overwhelming relief swirl together into a confusing mess. He had cheated. He had counted cards, used his mind to exploit the system, and won. And though it wasn’t illegal, it felt wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be that person. 

But what else could he do? His mother needed him. The bills needed to be paid. 

He sniffed again, taking a deep, shaky breath. “I’ll take it to the bank in the morning,” he whispered to himself, as if saying it aloud would somehow make it all more manageable, more real.

Carefully, Spencer stacked the bills into a neat pile and placed them inside an old shoebox he pulled from his closet. He slid it onto the top shelf, hiding it behind some books and clothes. Then he stood there for a moment, staring at the closet door, willing himself to feel better.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he felt hollow, a pit forming in his stomach as he sat down on the bed again, the weight of the day settling heavily on his shoulders. His mother was safe, for now, but Spencer couldn’t shake the feeling that he had crossed a line he couldn’t uncross.

February had rolled in cold and uninviting, the chill in the air matching the unease still settled in Spencer’s gut. He hadn’t set foot in the casino since mid-January, but the memory of it still gnawed at him, like a dark, heavy weight that wouldn’t lift. Every time he let himself think about it too long, his stomach twisted into painful knots. He hated what he had done, hated even more that he had felt so desperate. The envelope of guilt sat unopened in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t afford to dwell on it.

His boss at the valet job had not been pleased with his abrupt absence, but after some tense words, Spencer had been given a second chance. The job was exhausting—long hours of running back and forth, parking expensive cars he’d never be able to afford, all while wearing shoes that pinched his feet. But it was money, and that was all that mattered. Between his classes, his job in the cafeteria, and the valet shifts, Spencer felt like he was running on fumes. He could feel the toll it was taking on him physically and mentally. His grades, thankfully, were still holding steady, but every night, he collapsed into bed, bone-tired and drained.

He didn’t know how Y/N did it. He heard her every night, just after they’d bid each other a quick goodnight. It was a brief exchange—him in the kitchen, her walking through the apartment. By the time he heard the water running from her shower, Spencer was usually halfway asleep, already slipping into that heavy, dreamless rest that only exhaustion could bring.

But then, like clockwork, he would hear the creaking floorboards in the hallway, the soft shuffle of her feet as the front door opened and closed around 9:30 p.m. every night. He never asked where she went. It wasn’t his business, and he had enough to deal with. Still, there was something unsettling about it—how she returned just before dawn, the soft creak of her door waking him briefly before he drifted back off. By the time Spencer left for his classes in the morning, Y/N would already be up, her own schedule just as busy, if not more so. It made him slightly worried, but again, he had no space left in his mind to think about it too much. 

His days were a blur of lab work, lectures, and dishwashing shifts, a seemingly endless cycle that left little room for anything else. But whenever he could, he visited his mother. Nearly every day after classes, he made the trek to the facility, spending whatever time he could with her. She was doing well—comfortable in her surroundings, though her episodes were still frequent enough to remind him why she needed the care. He wished he could be there more, but someone had to pay for the doctors and nurses who cared for her when he couldn’t. That was his burden to bear.

He would never forget the look of surprise on the billing woman’s face when he handed over the cashier’s check. Spencer had barely been able to make eye contact with her, the shame of how he’d acquired the money still burning deep in his chest. But the feeling of seeing the bold red stamp reading “PAID” across his mother’s bill was enough to loosen the tight coil inside him, if only for a moment. 

Still, he knew this peace was temporary. The next bill was always just around the corner, and the weight of it was never far from his mind. Spencer’s life was a balancing act—one misstep, and the entire thing could come crashing down. But for now, at least for a little while, the scales were even.

By April, things had changed for Spencer in ways he hadn’t fully expected. The weight of the bills had shifted into something more manageable, though the method by which he achieved it wasn’t exactly moral. February and March had been paid off the same way as January—quick trips to the casinos, a few nights of heart-pounding card counting, and the cash had come flooding in. It was easier now. The shame of the first time had dulled into something distant, almost numb. Sure, he knew it wasn't illegal, but rather a gray area he tiptoed into, but it was working. He had never felt better, at least financially. 

With the extra money, he’d been able to quit the valet job, cutting back on his time in the dishroom, and it felt like a massive relief. But the adrenaline rush that came from counting cards, from walking away with thick wads of cash, was hard to ignore. He knew he wasn’t being careful enough. He’d already been banned from two casinos, the pit bosses noticing his near perfect streaks. Maybe he could have been slicker, lost more games to throw them off. But that thrill—it was hard to fake losing when his mind was calculating every move to win.

Still, despite his newfound financial freedom, Spencer couldn’t help but notice the toll it was taking on him. Not the gambling, not directly. But everything else. The rush of cash had bought him more time, more freedom, but it also brought a lingering sense of dread. He had to keep doing it to maintain the lifestyle he had now. And that part of him that prided himself on being better, being honest—it was shrinking, buried under the weight of necessity.

Y/N seemed tired. They’d spent a few rare evenings together over the last couple of months, bonding over their mutual exhaustion, both swamped by their studies. Those were moments Spencer cherished. When he wasn’t thinking about his next trip to the casino or how to avoid getting caught, he found himself wondering about her. Child psychology, she’d told him one night, across campus from where he spent most of his time. He’d learned more about her in those brief conversations than he had in the months prior.

She worked as a secretary, she’d mentioned, spending her lunch breaks catching up on classwork and staying late at the office to make up for time lost during the day. Spencer had always known Y/N was busy, but hearing about her schedule made him realize just how much she was shouldering. It was no wonder she was always tired. He admired her for it—her perseverance, the way she was pushing through her own struggles without complaint. But part of him was worried. She looked drained most days, and he had seen the bags under her eyes getting darker with each passing week.

He was worried for her, but Spencer was also grappling with something else—a growing realization of what he had done to himself. This life, this cycle of stress, had become his norm. He had stumbled into a situation that gave him fleeting moments of relief, but the guilt was never far behind. How had he, someone so logical, so meticulous, let things spiral out of control like this?

As April wore on, Spencer found it harder and harder to reconcile the person he was becoming. He hated the lies, the sneaking off to casinos, the constant paranoia of getting caught. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up, but he also couldn’t see a way out. The bills would keep coming, and he needed to keep paying.

By mid-May, Spencer had been banned from his fifth casino. He'd seen it coming, of course. The way the pit bosses eyed him, how the dealers seemed too aware of his every move. It was a familiar pattern now, a mix of adrenaline and dread that built up until it all came crashing down. As he walked down the strip, waiting for the bus, he debated slipping into another new place, starting the cycle all over again. His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him from his thoughts. 

Y/N’s name lit up the screen.

"Hey, Spencer," her voice was shaky, breathy. He froze in place. Something was off.

"Are you busy?" she asked.

Spencer scanned the street, spotting a nearby taxi. His heart quickened, and he felt the familiar swell of concern.

"No," he said. "Is everything alright?"

There was a strained chuckle on the other end of the line, but it wasn’t convincing. “Yeah, I just… I shouldn't have called. You sound busy.”

He furrowed his brows, his voice softening. “Are you sure? I’m not doing anything. Do you need me to come get you?”

There was a pause. He could almost hear her swallow, hear the lump in her throat as she answered, "Yes. I'm at a bar. Flynn’s."

"I’ll be there soon."

When Spencer arrived, the first thing he noticed was the look on her face. The worry in her eyes, her lips pressed tightly together. The second thing that hit him was her outfit—she wasn’t dressed for a night out, wearing boxy sweats and gripping a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She looked out of place, vulnerable. Spencer stood outside, waving until she spotted him through the window. Relief washed over her features, though her posture remained stiff as she stepped out of the bar.

The night was still, the moon high above them as they began walking. Neither of them said anything for a while, the silence stretching but not uncomfortable. Spencer kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye, trying to piece together what had happened, why she had called him. The streetlights cast long shadows over the sidewalk, and Y/N’s grip on her duffel bag never loosened.

“Thanks for coming,” she finally broke the silence, her voice small. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Spencer shook his head quickly. “I was already out. You didn’t wake me, and even if you had—it doesn’t matter. You can always call me.”

Y/N gave a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "I appreciate it," she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the pavement in front of them.

Spencer wanted to ask, to push, but he held back. He figured if she wanted to talk about it, she would. And for now, just being there for her was enough. The weight of her exhaustion, her unease, hung between them like a thick fog. Spencer wasn’t sure how to break it, so he stayed close by her side, making sure she knew he wasn’t going anywhere. 

The rest of the walk was quiet, the city alive around them but somehow distant, a blur of neon lights and distant voices. Spencer couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than just a bad night, but for now, he wouldn’t push. When they finally reached their apartment building, Y/N stopped at the door, exhaling deeply.

“Thanks, again,” she said, a little stronger this time.

Spencer gave her a reassuring nod. “Anytime.”

By June, the semester was finally over, and Spencer felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Without classes, he had more time to focus on two things: earning money and spending time with his mother. He visited her as often as possible, only leaving when he absolutely had to—whether for work or when the nurses firmly but kindly reminded him that visiting hours were over. 

He spent hours by her bedside, reading to her from medical journals or simply sitting in silence, watching her sleep peacefully in her room. The guilt of putting her there still lingered, but there was comfort in knowing she was safe. The nurses were kind, and although his mother had a few episodes here and there, overall, she seemed calmer. Spencer found himself staying later and later each time, as if his presence could stave off her illness just a little longer.

But even with his deep love for her, Spencer couldn't deny the other pull in his life—the casinos. He visited again, more subtle this time. He had learned from his earlier mistakes, easing his way into games without drawing attention. It was riskier now, with a reputation at some of the places, but Spencer was good at covering his tracks. Counting cards wasn’t difficult for him; if anything, it was almost too easy. 

In the span of just a few weeks, Spencer had tucked away a small nest egg of cash in his room, hidden carefully in a shoebox in the back of his closet. It was a safety net, meant for emergencies or to help cover his mother's bills when he fell short. 

At first, it had been all about necessity, but slowly, he felt his self-control loosening. He was winning more often than not, and it felt good. He started spending a little more on himself—things he had gone without for far too long. 

He treated himself to a new satchel, a sleek, brown leather bag that replaced the worn-out one he'd carried for years. He bought new shoes, sturdy and comfortable for his long walks to class or visits to his mom. He even scheduled a few doctor’s appointments, something he hadn’t done in a while. A new prescription for his glasses, and a splurge on contact lenses. It was all practical, he told himself, but it was hard to deny the small thrill he got from being able to afford it without guilt.

As for Y/N, she hadn't called him again since that night in May. Spencer had been concerned, at first, but then reasoned that she was likely dealing with her own busy life. He had tried to bring it up once, about a week after their walk home, while they were sharing dinner in the dining room. 

They had been laughing over one of Spencer’s stories—an encounter with a particularly rude valet customer who didn’t appreciate Spencer’s encyclopedic knowledge of vehicle makes and models.

“You know,” Spencer began, stirring his pasta, “I’ve been meaning to ask… what were you doing at that bar that night?”

He asked it gently, hoping not to push too hard. But the moment the question left his lips, he noticed the way Y/N’s eyes dimmed. Her smile faded just a little, and she shrugged, her focus shifting to her food.

“Bad date,” she said quickly, her tone dismissive.

Spencer hesitated, watching her closely, but decided to leave it at that. Y/N clearly didn’t want to elaborate, and he had enough of his own worries without prying into hers. They had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, an unspoken understanding. Spencer could sense that something was off, but he respected her space. Besides, he had enough going on with his mother, his finances, and his new balancing act between work and, now, self-indulgence.

The summer stretched out before him, a mix of freedom and burden, and Spencer was still unsure which one would win.

It was a calm night in July when everything caught up to Spencer. He’d been at the blackjack table, calculating odds with his usual precision, when a pair of casino security guards approached him. There was no immediate panic; he thought maybe they were checking IDs or doing a routine sweep. But then they pulled him away from the table, leading him to a back room where the pit boss and a few other staff members waited. The accusation was clear—he’d been caught.

Hours later, Spencer found himself sitting in the back of a squad car, the distant hum of the Las Vegas strip fading into the background. His heart pounded, but not for himself. His mind was on his mother. Locked away, he had no idea what would happen to her if he couldn’t make it back in time. Would the nurses understand? Would she panic without him there? The thought of her being confused and alone gnawed at him more than the fear of his own fate.

At the station, they took his details—name, age, bond amount—and left him in a holding cell. It was a small, cold room, dimly lit by flickering overhead lights. His thoughts raced as he sat on the hard bench, trying to figure out who to call. The shame was overwhelming, like a heavy stone lodged in his chest. He couldn’t call his professors; that would be a disaster. And his mother? No way.

After about an hour of internal debate, he settled on calling Y/N. His finger hovered over her name on his phone screen, anxiety twisting in his gut. Would she even answer? Would she be angry? Disappointed? He didn’t know what to expect.

He pressed the call button, holding his breath as the line rang and rang. No answer. The phone clicked, and he was met with her voicemail. 

Spencer slumped back against the cold wall of the cell, rubbing his hands over his face. He felt worse now, his chest tightening with guilt. He had dragged Y/N into this, into his mess, and now she wasn’t even answering. He was probably interrupting something important. Maybe she was at work, or worse, maybe he had pulled her away from something fun—a rare night out, even.

Another hour passed, his mind continuing to spiral into a web of worry. An officer came by, handing him his phone back.

“Try again,” the officer said, her tone flat.

With shaking fingers, Spencer dialed Y/N’s number once more. This time, she answered on the third ring. The background was filled with muffled music, her voice breathy as she greeted him.

“Hey, Spencer,” she said, sounding out of breath. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

His heart sank. He could hear the noise, the laughter behind her, and instantly regretted calling. He pictured her out with friends, enjoying a rare night off, and here he was ruining it. He almost didn’t want to ask, but he knew he had no other choice.

“Y/N, I… I’m sorry. I got arrested,” he admitted, his voice small. “I—I don’t know who else to call.”

There was a long pause on the other end.

“Where are you?” she asked softly, and even though he couldn’t see her, he could picture the worry in her eyes.

“I’m at the downtown precinct. They, uh… they’re holding me for-”

He hears a zipper zip on her end. “I’ll be there soon.”

It took nearly an hour for her to show up, and in that time, Spencer could feel the weight of his situation pressing down harder with each passing minute. The fear, the guilt, the helplessness—it was all suffocating. He kept replaying the last few months in his head, wondering how he had let it spiral this far.

When Y/N finally arrived, Spencer felt a mix of shame and relief. She was still in the same sweats he had seen her in earlier that day, but her face was tight with concern. She barely said a word as she walked up to the front desk and counted out $1,000 in mixed bills, sliding the cash toward the woman behind the glass. The whole interaction felt surreal, like he was watching someone else’s life unfold from the outside.

The woman at the desk gave her a bored look before droning, “Someone will call him about the outcome. He’ll have a court date soon.”

Y/N nodded, taking the receipt and turning toward Spencer, who had been standing a few feet back, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. She motioned for him to follow her, and without a word, they stepped out of the police station into the cool night air.

For a long while, neither of them said anything. They just walked, side by side, the weight of the situation hanging heavy between them. Spencer could feel the tension, the unspoken questions bubbling beneath the surface.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice cracking with exhaustion. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”

Y/N stopped walking, turning to face him. Her eyes softened, though there was still worry etched in her features. “We’ll talk about it later,” she said quietly. “Let’s just get home.”

Spencer nodded, too ashamed to say anything more. They walked the rest of the way in silence, and as they reached the front steps of their apartment building, Spencer couldn’t help but wonder how he was going to dig himself out of this hole.

August was supposed to be the start of a fresh semester, but instead, Spencer found himself sitting in a courtroom, missing his first day of classes. Y/N’s boss had managed to find him a pro bono lawyer, and after hours of waiting and worrying, the relief came in the form of a fine. It wasn’t an insignificant amount, but Spencer had enough in his checking account to cover it. No jail time. No criminal record. Just a bruised ego and a promise to himself that he’d get things back on track. Y/N had saved him, and he didn’t know how to properly thank her.

So, he bought her dinner.

They sat together, a comfortable silence filling the space between stories. Y/N laughed at something he said about an eccentric professor, and for a moment, all the weight of his mistakes felt like it had lifted. Spencer thought about how nice it was to have a friend—a real friend. Someone who didn’t judge him for his faults, who didn’t ask for explanations he couldn’t give. That night, as they cleared away the dishes, he thought about how different his life would be if she hadn’t picked up the phone.

As summer faded into fall, the pressure mounted again. His mother’s care, tuition, bills—everything felt like it was closing in. Despite the warnings he gave himself, Spencer found his way back to the casinos. At first, it was just to make ends meet, but soon he was hooked again. The thrill was intoxicating. His confidence grew, and with it, the risks. He found himself in underground poker games, the stakes higher than anything he had played before. It was dangerous, but he couldn’t help himself. The money was good, and for a while, it felt like he had control.

Until he didn’t.

One night, he left a private game with his pockets full, the air cool against his skin as he walked down a dimly lit street. He was feeling good—too good. But as he neared the end of the block, two men appeared from the shadows. They didn’t say much, just took his money, his watch, and left him with a bruise on his cheek and a burning pain in his stomach from where one of them had punched him.

When he got home, Y/N practically jumped off the couch the moment she saw him. Her eyes widened, and before he could say anything, she was leading him to the couch, gently pushing him down.

"Sit," she said, her voice calm but firm, though her eyes couldn’t hide the worry. A moment later, she returned with two ice packs, pressing one into his hand and placing the other on his cheek.

“What happened?” she asked, trying to keep her tone steady.

Spencer winced as he gingerly pressed the ice pack to his stomach. "It’s nothing," he mumbled. "Just ran into the wrong people."

Y/N’s brows furrowed. "Do you want to call the police?"

He shook his head quickly. "No, it’s not worth it. I shouldn’t have been there. It’ll just waste their time."

She didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t press him. Instead, she sat down next to him, her shoulder brushing against his. "You don’t have to keep doing this, Spencer."

He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of her words settle on him. "I know," he whispered, but in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if he really did.

By fall, Spencer and Y/N had fallen into a comfortable rhythm. Their routines intertwined seamlessly, like two cogs in a well-oiled machine. Despite everything else going on in their lives, they found small moments of joy. In early October, they decided to start decorating for Halloween. Some might say it was too soon, but neither of them cared. Spencer had been the one to suggest it, eager to cling to something fun and lighthearted amidst the constant stress. They spent a weekend hanging fake cobwebs in the windows and placing plastic pumpkins and skeletons around the apartment. Spencer, surprisingly, found himself smiling more than he had in a long time. 

It was a reprieve, even if temporary. The guilt still lingered at the back of his mind, nagging him whenever he returned from the casinos. He had stopped going to the private games—too risky after that one night. But he hadn’t stopped gambling altogether. He couldn’t. Not yet. His final semester was in full swing, and December commencement loomed closer. Graduation meant he wouldn’t have to re-enroll, wouldn’t have to juggle classes and the pressure of supporting his mother. He could finally find a stable job. Something steady that would take care of them both. He told himself it was just a matter of surviving until then. 

But as the weeks went on, the weight of it all began to creep back. Spencer would lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, his mind running circles around his choices. Guilt gnawed at him for falling back into old habits. He tossed and turned one night in the middle of October, unable to shake the unease. Y/N had left late again, her car still broken down, and he assumed she was working extra hours to cover the cost of repairs. He figured she’d taken up more shifts at the bar where he’d picked her up that one night. It made sense, though he hadn’t asked. It wasn’t his business, he reminded himself. 

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. She’d been working late a lot more often lately, coming back in the early morning hours, and it worried him. He kept telling himself she was just working hard, like he was. Still, the quiet of the apartment gnawed at him in her absence.

As he lay there, trying to force himself to sleep, the buzzing of his phone cut through the silence. His heart jumped. It was late—who could be calling him? He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his phone. Y/N’s name lit up the screen. He furrowed his brows, a knot forming in his stomach as he sat up in bed.

“Hello?” Spencer answered, his voice low and cautious.

“Spencer…” Y/N’s voice was shaky, barely above a whisper. “I… I need your help.”

The knot tightened in his chest. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

There was a pause on her end, and he could hear the faint hum of traffic in the background. “I’m not far. Just… can you come get me? Please?”

Without hesitation, Spencer threw back the covers and started pulling on a pair of jeans. “Of course. Where are you?”

She gave him the address, and Spencer was out the door within minutes. The streets were dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of streetlights, and his heart raced the entire way. Spencer expected to find himself standing outside Flynn’s again, but this time it was a different bar. His stomach twisted when he realized it wasn’t a bar at all, but a gentleman’s club. The neon lights flickered faintly, casting a garish glow over the entrance. Through the slightly ajar doors, he caught a glimpse of dim lighting, red velvet chairs, and the unmistakable sight of scantily clad women moving between tables. His cheeks flared up instantly, and he fought the urge to turn around and leave.

The bouncer at the door eyed him with a bored expression. “ID,” the man grunted.

Spencer fumbled with his wallet, barely able to focus as he handed over his driver’s license. The bouncer barely glanced at it before stepping aside. “Enjoy yourself.”

Enjoy myself? Spencer thought, feeling sick. This wasn’t his scene. He wasn’t the type to gawk at women in lingerie, no matter how much he understood that it was just a job to them. It still made him uncomfortable. He could already feel his nerves bubbling up as he hesitantly stepped inside, the heavy door closing behind him. The music thumped through the room, loud and rhythmic, and the room was filled with men, most with glazed-over eyes, openly staring at the performers on stage.

His eyes darted around the room, scanning for Y/N. His heart raced faster with each passing moment.

Before he could take another step, a woman with bright red hair, wearing a barely-there outfit, leaned against him, pressing her body too close for comfort. "Looking for a good time?" she purred, her voice smooth and practiced.

Spencer swallowed nervously, his hands stiff at his sides. "Uh, no—actually, I’m, uh, looking for someone. Y/N?"

The redhead’s expression shifted instantly. She straightened, her flirtatious demeanor dropping. "Y/N?" she repeated, her eyes narrowing as if she were assessing him. "What’s your name?"

"Spencer," he answered, confused by her sudden change in tone.

Without another word, she grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward a door behind the bar. Spencer blinked, stumbling slightly as he followed her. The catcalls and whistles from the nearby men echoed as they passed, but he barely registered them.

"Come on," the redhead muttered, leading him through the door and down a short hallway. "She’s back here."

Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest as they approached a small room near the cooler. When the redhead pushed the door open, he saw Y/N sitting on a metal stool, her knee bouncing wildly. She looked shaken, pale, her hair a mess. As soon as she saw him, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you for coming," she murmured against his chest. He could feel her trembling.

Spencer awkwardly returned the hug, his arms wrapping around her in a comforting gesture. "Of course," he replied softly. "Do you want to head home?"

Y/N nodded, pulling away slightly to meet his eyes. "Are you okay with taking a cab?" she asked, her voice still shaky.

Before Spencer could answer, the redhead piped up again. "Clive’s back," she explained, crossing her arms over her chest. "Y/N doesn’t like to leave alone when he’s here. Usually we have a guy to drive them home, but he's sick."

Spencer frowned, the pieces starting to click in his mind.

Without a second thought, he pulled out his phone. "I’ll call a taxi."

The ride home was quiet. Y/N sat beside him, her eyes staring out the window, while Spencer tried to process everything. He hadn’t expected any of this when she’d called him.

When they got back to the apartment, Y/N immediately started pacing in the living room. Spencer watched her from the doorway, unsure of what to say. He started to retreat toward his bedroom, giving her space, but her voice stopped him.

"Can you stay for a bit?" she asked quietly, her voice so small he almost didn’t hear it.

Spencer hesitated but nodded. "Yeah, of course."

They sat in the living room, the silence thick between them until Y/N broke it. "How was your day?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

Spencer blinked, surprised by the question. "Uh, it was... fine. I went to see my mom today."

Y/N stopped pacing, looking over at him. "How is she?"

"She’s... the same," he admitted, feeling the familiar weight settle on his shoulders. "She’s in a home now. Schizophrenia."

Y/N’s expression softened. "I’m sorry."

He shrugged, trying to downplay it. "It’s just... my life."

The room fell into silence again. Spencer wasn’t sure what to say, but before he could think of anything, Y/N spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I don’t want to be a stripper." Her words hung in the air, and Spencer felt his heart sink. He looked over at her, watching as she wrung her hands together nervously.

"It’s easy money," she continued, her voice shaky. "But I know you’ll see me differently now."

Spencer’s throat tightened. He shook his head, his voice soft but firm. "Y/N, I don’t see you any differently."

Spencer watched as Y/N exhaled, the tension in her shoulders loosening as his words settled over her. He hadn't realized until now just how much she had been carrying, how deeply she feared judgment. In that moment, he felt an ache—a quiet understanding of how much they'd both hidden from each other.

He swallowed hard, the knot in his throat tightening again, but this time, it wasn’t just from the weight of her confession. His own secrets had been buried for months, festering beneath the surface. Now, with the raw honesty between them, they suddenly felt too heavy to keep to himself. The words he hadn’t meant to share began bubbling up before he could stop them.

“I… I’ve been hiding something too,” he began, his voice so low he wasn’t sure if she heard him at first. When she looked up at him, eyes still soft but curious, he knew he had to say it.

He shifted in his seat, fingers nervously tapping against his knee as he searched for the right way to explain. But the truth was, there wasn’t a ‘right way.’

“Y/N, I—” he started, then hesitated. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the rush of guilt flood his system before the words even left his lips. “I cheat casinos. It’s… it’s not like I’m counting cards—well, I guess I kind of am. But it’s not exactly illegal… more of a morally gray loophole.”

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t say anything, just listened. He kept going, his words spilling out in a rush, almost as if he needed to explain himself before she could react.

“It’s the only way I can afford my mother’s care,” he admitted, his voice hoarse with emotion. “The medical bills, the home, everything—it’s all so expensive. I didn’t know what else to do. I wasn’t making enough just working. So I started going to casinos, trying to use what I knew, what I was good at, to make enough money to keep her safe.”

He could feel his pulse in his ears, the blood rushing to his face. He hadn’t planned to tell her. He hadn’t even planned to admit it to himself. But here he was, spilling the truth in one messy, unfiltered confession.

“I know it’s wrong, but I couldn’t watch her suffer. I just… I didn’t want to lose her.”

Silence filled the room. Y/N didn’t look away, didn’t interrupt. She just watched him, her expression unreadable as the weight of his words sank in.

Spencer felt exposed, like a spotlight was shining down on him, illuminating every flaw, every mistake. He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he was expecting—anger, disappointment, maybe even disgust. But instead, there was a shift. A quiet understanding settled between them, like they had reached some unspoken agreement.

Y/N slowly moved from where she had been standing and sat down beside him. She didn’t say anything at first, just rested her hand gently on his. Her touch was warm, grounding, and it sent a wave of relief through his chest.

“I get it,” she said softly, her voice filled with empathy rather than judgment. “You’re doing what you think you have to do.”

Spencer blinked, taken aback by her response. He had been bracing himself for condemnation, but instead, there was this—a quiet acceptance. She wasn’t condoning what he’d done, but she understood why.

“I don’t see you any differently either, Spencer,” she added, her eyes meeting his. “We’re both just trying to survive.”

Her words hit him hard, the rawness of them resonating deep inside him. They were both tangled in their own struggles, doing what they thought was necessary, even if it blurred the lines of right and wrong. And in that moment, Spencer realized that they weren’t just two people keeping secrets from each other. They were two people trying to navigate a messy, complicated world in the only ways they knew how.

For the first time in months, Spencer didn’t feel so alone.

As the months passed, Spencer and Y/N's connection deepened, their shared confessions forming the foundation for a much stronger bond. Spencer, once hesitant to let anyone get too close, found himself softening in her presence. He kept his phone on all night, ready to answer her calls without a second thought. Y/N seemed to sense that he was always there for her, and the distance that had once separated them as roommates faded into something much more personal.

On quiet nights, when Y/N didn’t have work and Spencer wasn’t pulled into the casino world, they spent hours talking. Spencer even began taking her with him to the casinos, showing her the ropes, teaching her how to gamble with efficiency and precision. He was patient, guiding her through the math and the psychology of it all, explaining his methods for maximizing their chances without raising suspicion. She picked it up quickly, and they even managed to win small amounts together, enough for a celebratory dinner or a couple of drinks afterward. 

Mornings became their time to unwind. They would sit over coffee, the rich aroma filling the small kitchen, and swap dreams and desires. Spencer talked about his future, how after commencement, he was hoping to find something steady so he could finally stop relying on the casinos to support his mother. Y/N shared her own ambitions, but they were less concrete. She wasn’t quite sure what the next step was for her—she just knew that the life she was living wasn’t what she wanted long-term.

Dinner was different—lighter. They laughed over the mishaps of their day, whether it was Spencer recounting an awkward encounter with a professor or Y/N sharing wild stories about strange customers at the bar. The ease between them was palpable, and Spencer realized that he looked forward to those moments just as much as anything else.

As the semester drew to a close, the temperature dropped, and the crisp air signaled the end of fall. Spencer found himself in an odd limbo, stuck between the stress of final exams and the excitement of commencement. One afternoon, he was sitting at the table, filling out a request form to bring his mother to the graduation ceremony. His brow furrowed as he concentrated, not noticing Y/N slip through the front door until she spoke.

“Groceries are put away,” she called from the kitchen, her voice bright. A moment later, she settled onto the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. “So, what do you think about becoming a nanny?”

Spencer glanced up, raising a curious eyebrow. “Me? I’d be terrible with kids.”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Not you, Spencer. Me. I was just thinking about it. You know, maybe it’d be a change of pace, something different.”

He pushed the form aside for a moment, turning in his chair to give her his full attention. “I think you should go for it if you’re interested. It’d definitely be a shift from bartending.”

Y/N sighed, leaning her head back on the couch. “Yeah, but I don’t exactly have stellar references…”

Spencer cocked his head, confused by her sudden hesitation. “What do you mean?”

With a small smirk, Y/N lifted the hem of her shirt just slightly, swirling her hips in a playful motion. Spencer blinked for a moment before it clicked, and then he chuckled, the realization dawning on him. “Ah, right. The whole… dancer thing.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. Not exactly nanny material, huh?”

Spencer shook his head, still amused. “I don’t think that disqualifies you, Y/N. You’re good with people. You’d be great with kids.”

“You think?” She shifted, her tone lighter now, though still carrying a hint of doubt.

“I know,” he replied confidently. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? Give it a shot. It can’t be any worse than some of the jobs you’ve done, right?”

Y/N laughed softly, the tension easing from her shoulders as she let his words sink in. “I guess you’re right. Maybe I will give it a try.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the warmth of their shared space wrapping around them like a blanket. Spencer glanced back down at the form in front of him, his thoughts wandering as he imagined his mother sitting in the audience at his graduation. His life, once filled with uncertainty, now felt like it was finally moving forward. And sitting there, with Y/N across the room, he realized he wasn’t facing it alone anymore.

Commencement day was a blur of emotions for Spencer. He stood in his cap and gown, the weight of his degree finally sinking in as he scanned the audience. His heart swelled when he saw his mother, Diana, sitting near the front, smiling proudly. She’d been well enough to come to the ceremony, and the fact that she was there—present and lucid—made everything feel even more meaningful. Y/N sat next to her, waving at him with a wide grin, and for the first time in a while, Spencer allowed himself to feel like everything was falling into place.

After the ceremony, they all went out to dinner. It was a simple restaurant, nothing extravagant, but the company made it perfect. Diana was animated, more herself than she had been in a long time, and Y/N fit seamlessly into the mix, chatting comfortably with Spencer’s mother as if they had known each other for years. Spencer sat back, watching them, feeling a rare sense of contentment. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to forget the anxieties of the future.

The night carried on, and after dinner, Spencer walked his mother back to her room at the assisted living facility, staying well into the late hours. Diana seemed more at peace than she had been in months, and Spencer clung to that, knowing how fleeting these moments could be. They sat together, her hand in his, as he nervously told her about the job offer he had received from the FBI.

"I don’t know if I’m ready," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s... it’s a lot. I don’t know if I’m the right person for it."

Diana’s eyes, filled with a mother’s wisdom and love, softened as she squeezed his hand gently. “Spencer,” she began, her voice calm and reassuring, “you’ve been preparing for something like this your whole life. You’re brilliant, and you have a good heart. I think you know what the right thing to do is.”

He swallowed hard, looking down at their joined hands. The FBI was something he never imagined for himself. He had attended a career fair weeks ago with Y/N, more for her than for himself. She had been relatively uninterested, wandering through the booths, but Spencer had found himself lingering near the FBI’s table, mesmerized by the thought of working for them. He could picture himself in the field, wearing a bulletproof vest, solving cases that no one else could. The idea had shaken him, and he’d quickly dismissed it at the time. But apparently, Jason Gideon, the FBI agent manning the table, had noticed. He’d taken an interest in Spencer, encouraging him to apply.

“I just… I don’t know if I can do it,” Spencer admitted, his throat tightening again. “What if I fail?”

Diana’s smile was soft, knowing. “You won’t fail. And even if you stumble, you’ll get back up. You’ve always been resilient, Spencer. Don’t let fear stop you from going after what you want.”

Spencer’s eyes met hers, and in that moment, he knew what she was really saying. She was urging him to take the leap, not just for himself but because she believed in him. And maybe—just maybe—that belief was enough to tip the scales.

He sighed, nodding slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

Diana chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “That’s because I know my son.”

The conversation lingered in his mind as he walked home that night, the streets quiet under the chilly December sky. By the time he arrived, Y/N was already asleep on the couch, a blanket draped over her. Spencer stood for a moment, watching her in the soft glow of the living room lamp, feeling grateful for the way she had been there for him through everything.

He quietly retreated to his room, but he couldn’t sleep. His mind was racing with thoughts of the future, the weight of the decision in front of him. He could almost hear his mother’s voice urging him forward, telling him not to be afraid.

As Christmas Day rolled around, the apartment felt eerily empty. Most of the furniture was gone, and the decorations were sparse. Spencer was on his way to visit his mother’s facility, a tradition they had every holiday season, when Y/N’s voice called out, stopping him in his tracks.

“Spencer, wait!” she called, shaking a small stack of neatly wrapped boxes in her hands.

His heart melted at the sight. He walked over, his smile widening. “Is that my gift?”

Y/N grinned, handing him the boxes. “It sure is.”

Spencer grabbed two boxes from under the small Christmas tree they had left standing in the corner and handed them to her. “And these are yours.”

They settled on the couch, exchanging gifts with the kind of quiet excitement that came from years of friendship.

He tore open the first box, revealing a soft, purple scarf. Spencer laughed, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he ran his fingers over the fabric. “A purple scarf?”

Y/N nodded, her eyes twinkling with warmth. “It gets cold in D.C., so I thought I’d give you something for when you get off the plane, Agent.”

The word “Agent” made Spencer’s chest swell with pride, even as he blinked back tears. He opened the next boxes, finding a few sweaters, gloves, and a thicker coat. Practical gifts, but thoughtful nonetheless. They were things he would need for his new life, things that showed how well Y/N knew him.

Y/N, meanwhile, opened her gifts with a bright smile. Inside were a few children’s books, a brand-new lunchbox, a journal, and a manual on nannying. She looked up at Spencer, her eyes soft with gratitude.

“These are perfect,” she whispered, flipping through one of the books. “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

Spencer chuckled, shrugging modestly. “I wanted to make sure you were prepared for the new job. It’s going to be a big change.”

She smiled at him, the kind of smile that told him how much she appreciated him—not just for the gifts, but for the friendship they had built over the years. “Thank you, Spencer.”

For a moment, they just sat there in the quiet, the weight of the future hanging between them. But it wasn’t heavy, not like before. It felt hopeful. Like they were both ready for whatever came next, even if it meant parting ways for now.

“You’re gonna do great, you know?” Spencer said, his voice soft.

Y/N met his gaze, her smile warm and full of confidence. “So will you, Spencer.”

Spencer’s heart fluttered as he stood at the counter, fidgeting with his fingers. Telling Y/N he wasn’t renewing the lease had been eating at him for days. He finally worked up the courage, watching her closely for a reaction.

“I won’t be renewing the lease next month,” he blurted, his voice slightly shaky. His nerves prickled with unease. He was afraid of leaving her, of this new chapter that would take him away from the apartment they had called home for so long.

Y/N breathed a dramatic sigh over the counter separating them. Spencer blinked, confused by her calm reaction.

“I’m not renewing either,” she said with a nonchalant shrug, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

His heart skipped a beat. “Wait—what?”

She gave him a grin, leaning on the counter. “I found a family to nanny for. A woman who’s a child psychologist, ironically enough. I’m transferring to a different campus next semester to be closer to them.”

Spencer let out a breath, relieved and proud of her. They shared a quick laugh, the tension melting away. For a moment, they just stood there, smiling at each other, their eyes filled with a mix of pride and the unspoken acknowledgment that things were changing—but it was the good kind of change.

The morning sun glinted off the tarmac as Spencer stood beside Y/N in the airport parking lot, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling in his chest. The reality of their impending separation felt heavier than the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He glanced at Y/N, who stood next to him, her hands stuffed deep into the pockets of her jacket, a bittersweet smile on her face.

“I can’t believe this is it,” he said, his voice slightly wobbly. “It feels like we were just decorating for Halloween.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Time flies, doesn’t it? But you’re going to do amazing things, Spencer. I know it.”

Taking a deep breath, he pulled out a pen from his jacket pocket and flipped open her address book. With careful strokes, he wrote down his new address in Washington, D.C. The words felt surreal, a tangible representation of how much had changed in such a short time.

“There,” he said, closing the book and handing it back to her. “You have to come visit. You can stay with me, and we’ll explore the city together.”

“Deal.” She looked down at the page, tracing his address with her fingertip as if committing it to memory. “Just don’t forget to send me a postcard or two, okay?”

“Of course,” he promised, a small smile creeping onto his lips. “I’ll even send one from the FBI office.”

Y/N laughed lightly, but there was an edge of sadness in her voice. “I’ll be waiting.”

They stood in silence for a moment, both of them acutely aware of the ticking clock and the finality of the moment. It felt strange to be standing there, knowing they were about to go their separate ways. He would be stepping into a new chapter, and she would be continuing her own journey.

Spencer took a step closer, his heart pounding. “Can I have one last hug?” 

Y/N stepped forward without hesitation, wrapping her arms around him. He breathed in her familiar scent—a comforting blend of lavender and something uniquely her. It felt both reassuring and achingly bittersweet. He held her tight, as if trying to absorb every moment they had shared, every laugh, every worry, and all the late-night talks.

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” she murmured into his shoulder, her voice muffled. “I don’t want to hear any stories about you getting into trouble.”

“I promise,” he replied, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “And you take care of yourself too, Y/N. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

With that, they hugged once more, the embrace lingering longer than it should have. It was a goodbye filled with unspoken words, memories, and a strong bond that would remain even across the miles. Finally, they stepped back, both reluctantly breaking the contact.

“Okay, I guess I should go,” Spencer said, glancing over his shoulder at the terminal. 

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, biting her lip as she fought to hold back tears. “I’ll be okay. Just… don’t forget me.”

He reached out, squeezing her hand tightly before letting go. “I could never forget you, Y/N. You’ve been one of the best parts of my life.”

With a final wave, he turned and headed toward the entrance of the airport, glancing back once to see Y/N standing there, her silhouette framed by the bright morning light. He could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes, and it pulled at his heart.

As he walked through the sliding glass doors, he couldn’t shake the feeling of loss settling in his chest. He reached the lobby, the sounds of the bustling airport swirling around him, but all he could think about was her. He found a spot by the large windows, waiting for his flight, but his gaze remained fixed outside.

It wasn’t until he spotted her car pulling out of the lot that he felt a wave of emotions crash over him. He watched as she drove away, the red taillights disappearing into the distance, and his heart ached. A mix of gratitude and longing filled him as he thought about all the moments they had shared, how she had been his anchor in a storm of chaos.

Spencer pulled out his phone, his fingers hovering over her contact information. He sent her a quick message, a simple “Thank you for everything. I’ll miss you,” before slipping the phone back into his pocket. 

He could feel the weight of her absence already, but deep down, he knew this wasn’t truly the end. Their friendship had weathered so much; he had faith it would withstand the distance. 

As he settled into a seat in the waiting area, his heart brimmed with both hope and sorrow, knowing they were both embarking on new journeys. And as he stared out at the endless sky, he vowed to make the most of this opportunity—both for himself and for Y/N.

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

i told the stars about you

The wide expanse of stars twinkle outside her window, glittering like goldstone. Shirayuki wonders if it’s her imagination or if the skies in the North truly are more arresting. The nights of Wistal were beautiful, yes, but fogged by firelight, paler perhaps than the shades of blue and purple she can make out here. Or was she just not looking? Her impressions could be shaded by the rarity of a clear evening in the North, or perhaps the memory of those early years in Clarines have faded. And yet-

And yet something about this night sky in particular strikes her.

She hugs herself, the heat of another body still soaked into hers long after they’ve returned to their respective rooms. Long after she has changed into her nightgown and set aside all the accoutrements of professionalism, brushing her hair until it crackled with static. Long after she stationed herself at this window, looking up to once familiar stars for answers.

Emotionally exhausted, but... happy. So, so happy.

It must be her imagination how she can still smell the wool and leather and wild that never quite left him. Can still feel his broad hand alighted upon her back, tentative as if anything more might break him. Can still feel the shape of his words murmured against her ear.

“Keep this?”

Shirayuki’s eyes squeeze shut, tight as the fist in her chest. Always, always, she would never think to do otherwise. She would keep it, treasure it, honor the bravery it took him to offer it.

Her grip tightens on herself, but it’s- not the same, not enough.

She can bear it no longer.

Shirayuki spins on her heels, flying towards the door connecting their rooms. Without a moments pause, she flings it open and there—

There are two wide eyes, staring into hers, hand hovering in the space between them.

“Oh. Miss. I—”

“Obi! I- Earlier. We were interrupted and I just thought—”

…that our hug wasn’t finished.

Embarrassment starts to creep up her neck, disbelief at her own reasoning. Hands flutter helplessly in that too large of an expanse between them, and she grasps at nothing for words, hoping to catch a more rational thought. But then she looks up at him, helpless. Between the two of them, he was always the better one at reading her meaning when she didn’t know what to say, and—

His eyes are red at the corners, glossy in the dim light.

The air pulls out of her lungs. He hugged her before. Just an hour ago. Held her, even. So she doesn’t think, she just… flings herself forward, arms wrapping themselves around his middle. He must’ve taken his night gown from Eisetsu’s place, the silk feels familiar. Far better than either of them could afford. She’s half a mind to scold him for stealing from their host, but—

But his ribs collapse under her hold, spine rounding as his body curls over hers. He pulls her closer. So, so gingerly. She doesn’t know how to tell him that her body can take his strength, too. That he can- that he can hold her the way his body needs.

He sucks a breath next to her ear as if in pain and alarm spikes up her spine. Did she hurt him??? Shirayuki braces her palms against his arms, arching backwards to take a look—

His hand tangles in her hair, pressing her face tight to his chest.

“Obi?” Her voice is muffled against his collarbone, sight blocked by the dark fabric of his clothes.

“Miss,” he breathes, voice hoarse, and it’s only now that she feels how he shakes, how he trembles, and—

Wetness spills onto her cheek. It’s not hers.

Not yet at least.

“I thought--” she chokes, wrapping her arms around him once more-- “that we weren’t done hugging it out yet.”

Laughter rattles out of him, his thumb stroking a line along the nape of her neck. “No, Miss.” Obi sniffs, his cheek resting against the crown of her head, and her eyes well. He can’t cry because that means she has to cry, too. “I don’t think we were.”

[abarbaricyalp]

Bed, Beignets, Birthdays, and Other B Things Sam Wilson Likes

Happy birthday, Cap! 🎉 // AO3 Link 🛏🥐🎂

Sam’s arm fell to the other side of the bed and landed on a warm chest instead of cool sheets. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before turning over and sneaking a glance at the man next to him. Scared, just for a moment, that this might slip away if he actually looked.

Bucky was already awake, but he was still sleep rumpled, impression lines crossing his face and chest, hair a mess. Sam wondered if he could convince him to cut it now. Surely he was more susceptible to the idea when it was all tangled in the morning. Then again, Sam figured if the whole ‘your secret identity will be harder to figure out if you cut off your trademark mane’ hadn’t worked, he didn’t think a few knots would either.

“You stayed,” he yawned and stretched his arms into Bucky’s space.

Bucky’s fingers fell across one of Sam’s hands, traced over the lines of his metacarpals lightly. “It’s your birthday,” he said simply. “Thought I should at least buy you breakfast. Give you a day off.”

Sam smiled at the idea. Not hunting down rogue bases and ghost stories was fine by him. It seemed like a lovely day outside. The seasons were actually turning here and there was a crispness he could feel even without opening the window. It made him press closer to Bucky’s chest, hiding his head under Bucky’s jaw. Bucky’s arms went around him, his left arm slow in caution and also because he was laying on it.

“Maybe I like chasing you down,” Sam suggested.

“You like pastries more,” Bucky pointed out. And that was true. Food in general, but breakfast desserts were a favorite. And they were in Paris of all places. Sam really could not envision a better day.

“You got any other plans for the day?” Sam asked. “Or are you gonna disappear as soon as I turn my back on you outside?”

“I don’t plan on letting you outside,” Bucky admitted. “My plans involved getting you in the shower and then back in this bed. Everything else can be ordered in.”

Sam hummed. That did sound like a really good plan. “Can I open the window?”

“We’re on a fourth floor, so I don’t think that many people will be able to hear you. Go for it.”

Sam lifted his head enough to watch Bucky’s face until it broke into a grin. “Oh, that kind of day in bed, huh?” he asked.

Bucky’s fingers moved up Sam’s back. “That kind of day in bed,” he agreed and turned onto his back, pulling Sam over him as he went. His fingers went back to tracing Sam’s spine and Sam tried not to shiver with it. He didn’t succeed.

“If you were gonna ask for something today, what would it be?” Bucky asked.

Sam raised an eyebrow and took his own turn to brush his fingers over Bucky’s chest–the line of hair traveling down his pecs, a birthmark against his ribs, a scar under his collarbone, which Sam weirdly had a matching one to. They’d both gotten them when they were kids, lifetimes before they knew each other or had any shared life experience. Except, Sam supposed, falling out of a tree and hitting every branch on the way down.

“Use pet names today,” he decided. “Don’t call me Wilson.”

“What about–”

“Sam and all your terrible variations are fine,” Sam added.

Bucky grinned up at him. “Alright, doll,” he agreed. “That one’s easy enough to give you.” He sat up so they were shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, hip to hip. It made Sam light-headed and he tilted forward to catch Bucky’s mouth on his and also steady himself.

Bucky kissed like he thought it was the last thing he was going to do. Sam refused to consider the legitimacy of that fear. Bucky was intense and excited. Sometimes it felt like running into a brick wall and sometimes he opened up like an endless expanse of soft lips and searching hands. Sometimes the brick wall came down between them, and then tilted forward for extra kisses, with a hand on Sam’s chest, pushing him back.

“Wait, wait,” Bucky panted and then took another three kisses. “Shower first,” he encouraged. “I have a plan for today.”

“What about food?” Sam asked.

Bucky grinned at him and it made Sam’s stomach turn over in the most desirable way. “Well, I’m gonna eat,” he said oh-so innocently. “But I don’t know how long it’s gonna take, so I figured we could order in later.”

Sam was nodding before Bucky even finished talking. “Yeah, alright,” he agreed, pulling Bucky into another kiss.

He was expecting it when Bucky stood and lifted him in the same motion, but it still made him go light headed all over again. He kind of loved it when Bucky did that. It made him feel young and spontaneous and it was so damn hot.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Bucky breathed against Sam’s chest, where he seemed to be trying to kiss his way to Sam’s heart.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed dazedly. “And here’s to many more.”

“Well you’ve still got to get through this one,” Bucky teased.

Sam shivered and curled his arms around the back of Bucky’s neck. He kind of thought this wouldn’t be such a bad way to go. But he was fully planning on doing this again next year.

Read the rest on AO3

[farmergirldulce]

Winter Sapling [Ryis x Farmer One-Shot]

There's not enough love for the underrated King Ryis, so I'm here to oblige with a fluffy one shot for all you Ryis lovers out there! (Myself included although I'm gonna romance March first, Ryis is definitely next save lmao)

This is pretty much a continuation of his 4-heart event, so slight spoilers ahead!

You can also read this on my AO3!

Enjoy~! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

♡ ╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗♡

Ryis never felt this way before.

He isn't sure when he started to think about you often. Maybe it's the way you knew your way around a hammer? Perhaps it was the sound you'd make when he makes you laugh? Or maybe just how your eyes sparkle whenever you pay attention to his demonstrations of carpentry? After what seemed like an eternity of sleepless nights, he has come to this answer:

He's in love with you, and he has no clue what to do about it.

He's contemplating on talking to March about how he feels to see if he has any advice, but he's almost certain he's too busy or doesn't care for "playing matchmaker between his best friend and a thorn in his side". So he makes the decision to just let nature take its course and find out for himself whether or not you reciprocate what he feels.

♡ ╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗♡

It's now winter, in the first year of your arrival.

Ryis is now beating himself up for letting himself bottle in his feelings for you for this long.

Maybe (Y/N) started to like someone else by now? There's no way they'd be into me... right?

These are the thoughts that roam in his mind as he exits the carpenter shop that cloudy, cold evening. As he's walking through the already fallen tundra, he looks to his left to see a familiar figure standing in the area where the hawthorn sapling was planted seasons ago and he feels his heart skip a beat.

It's you.

You're dressed in an cream-colored sherpa jacket donned in gloves as white as the lightly falling snow, black joggers, and cream-colored snow boots. You're not wearing a hat so Ryis notices speckles of frost in your hair, your cheeks and nose adorned in a slight red hue.

He's behind the wall now to get a closer look at you, entranced the moment he saw you take a breath and start singing a hushed little tune to the sapling you're squatting in front of. The melody is blended together almost immaculately, your head swaying to the rhythm you're presenting. At that moment, Ryis is absolutely breathless.

My God, they're so beautiful...

The lullaby ends and clumsily, Ryis accidentally steps on a twig as he inches closer to your location, causing you to whip your hear around the noise and Ryis to flinch. He curses himself.

Since when did I become a stalker?! Go talk to her, idiot...

He turns around the corner like he just arrived, playing it cool and taking a gulp before approaching.

"Oh! It's you Ryis. Evening~!" You chirp, greeting the young man.

He smiles, hands in his pockets.

"Hey, (Y/N)! What are you doing out here so late? It's freezing out here..."

"I know." You nod in agreement. "I just remembered I haven't checked on the sapling this week and I wanted to see how it's coming along! Gotta make sure this tree will be ready for the Mistrian bluebirds, ya know?"

He can't help but stifle a chuckle after hearing what you said.

So cute....

"I think it will still be quite a while before we see them, but I'm glad you've been keeping an eye on it this whole time. You're such a hard worker, and I admire that."

He freezes, mentally cringing at what he just said. If that was his way of telling you he likes you, he wasn't satisfied.

"Hm?" You inquire, peering into him closer, causing his shoulders to tense up. "But you've been working your butt off, too! You're still working on the birdhouse, right?"

He nods, looking down at his feet and shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah. It's still a work-in-progress, though. I'm not stopping until those birds have a wonderful place to come home to!"

Then, all of a sudden, you enclose the space between you two and grab his shoulders. He can't help but stare into your bright eyes in shock as you give him the smile he knows damn well he loves.

"You gotta give yourself some credit, Ryis. You've done wonderfully on this project so far!"

It's taking every fiber in his body for him to keep himself from just kissing you right then and there. Maybe then he'd be able to show you instead of tell you how much you mean to him. Your face is so close, too. He can almost feel the heat coming from your breath as you exhale breaths past your soft-looking lips...

"Ryis? You okay?"

Your voice brings him back to reality and he snaps out of it.

"Huh? OH, yeah, I'm good! Just kinda tired."

"Oh okay... you should get some sleep soon then, yeah?"

"Mhm."

But even after the suggestion, you both just stand there in silence, still enveloped in each other's company. Then, Ryis takes a deep breath and starts to say something:

"(Y/N)... I think I li-"

And just like that, almost on queue, the snow starts to fall heavier, a snow storm beginning.

"Ah! I seem to have misread the weather forecast!" You say loudly, the snow drowning your voice.

Then, Ryis turns to the shop. He grabs your hand.

"This way! Let's get to shelter!"

He leads you to the carpenter shop, ignoring the fact he just grabbed your hand and just guiding you to safety.

♡ ╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗♡

You close the door behind you and Ryis takes off his boots, jacket, and blue scarf, at the door. He walks to the fireplace and grabs the pack of matches nearby.

"You can leave your boots and jacket there. After I get the fire going, I can make us hot chocolates. Sounds good?"

Your ears perk up.

"Oh, that sounds lovely! Would you like some help?"

Then, suddenly you sneeze. He blesses you, and politely refuses your offer, insisting you have a seat and take in the cozy warmth of the fire.

"No, that's okay! You just get comfortable and stay warm, okay?"

"Kay."

As he's in the kitchen making the hot chocolate, you curl up and get comfy by the armrest on the left side of the couch in the living room. While you're waiting you take a look around the room you're in. You can't help but feel like you're at home with the similar vibes the shop cabin has compared to your farm. You yawn, starting to get sleepy, truely making yourself at home.

You jolt and keep yourself from dozing off on Ryis and Landen's couch when you hear his footsteps with his socks on coming from the kitchen to where you are.

"Sorry about the wait. It'll be worth it though." Ryis chides with a wink.

"Hehe, no worries!" You giggle unworryingly, pretending you weren't falling asleep. "Thank you."

You grab the hot ruby red cup from Ryis' hand and blow at the steam across the top. He takes a seat next to you with his own cup in his hands, you two just inches from each other, shoulder to shoulder. You almost feel your heart skip a beat by the close proximity.

You take a slow sip of the piping hot beverage, careful not to burn your tongue. It's a nearly perfect balance of sweet and bitter with a hint of creaminess. It also tastes a bit familiar.

"Did you get some pointers from Darcy?" You ask, a cheeky little smirk forming across your lips.

He laughs.

"You got me. She let me borrow the recipe and I've been practicing. Gotta learn some things before my uncle gets too old to cook for himself."

"Aww, that's so sweet!" You chirp, although not to your surprise.

Ryis has always been a gentleman and an overall pleasant guy. That's what makes him so charming to you. You keep in mind if he gets a significant other, you're sure they'd be lucky to have him.

You know you'd be lucky.

He chortles in slight embarrassment, his cheeks getting red and his eyes averting yours.

"Y-You think so?"

"Yep!"

"Haha, cool, cool..."

What Ryis might never admit to you is he has actually been practicing his culinary skills to impress you. With the help of Darcy and Reina, he hopes one day if you decide to go out with him he'd cook you a nice dinner to make you feel special, like you deserve.

There goes the silence again. However, there's nothing awkward about it as you both sip the hot chocolates peacefully as you hear the wood crackling from the fireplace. While he isn't looking, you find yourself looking at him drinking from his ceramic cup, his eyes closed. It makes you wonder if you both will have snow days like this again, and you feel like you wouldn't mind spending time with him like this again.

After you're both done, he gets up and takes both cups to the sink. Then, he sits back down next to you again in the same spot he was before. He looked outside the window to see it was still snowing pretty bad.

"If it doesn't let up, you're more than welcome to stay the night here! I'm sure my uncle wouldn't mind." He suggests kindly.

You yawn again, rubbing your eyes.

"But where would I sleep? Do you have another room here?"

"You can stay in my room."

You start to blush, then Ryis realizes what he blurted out and blushes, stammering.

"I-I'd sleep here on the couch, of course!" He clarifies, flustered by the misunderstanding. As much as he would love to cuddle next to you in the same bed, he wouldn't dare make you feel uncomfortable.

"O-Oh, I see..." You sigh mixed in both relief and slight disappointment.

Before your fatigue wins the battle, you remember something. Ryis was about to say something to you before the blizzard.

"Hey Ryis?"

"What's up?"

"Before it started snowing really bad, I think you were going to say something. Do you remember what it was?"

He's silent, starting to sweat. He can feel a knot forming at the pit of his stomach.

Oh boy, here we go...

He takes some time to gather his thoughts before he says the following:

"Yeah, I remember. I wanted to tell you for some time now, but I wasn't ready to say it... until now."

Not looking at you still, he takes your hand and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before he says the line that could change your relationship with him forever.

"I like you, (Y/N). As in, I want to get to know you better. I want to have more moments like this with you. I would like to date you, if you'll have me."

As he awaits your response, he bites his lip in anticipation. Unfortunately...

Snooore...

You're fast asleep, your head falling on his shoulder. He sighs.

Well, at least I tried.

However, he's not that disappointed he didn't get your answer. In fact, he's happy to see how peaceful you look asleep on his shoulder and he can't bear to wake you from your slumber. He tells himself to be patient and he'll know some other day how you feel for him in return. But right now, he doesn't want the next day to come, because he feels like he could stay like this forever.

Soon, his own fatigue starts to kick in. He turns his head to yours and plants a kiss on your head before he intertwines his fingers with your fingers on your hand and he falls asleep, head resting on yours.

It may not yet be the time to make it official, but like a sapling in the winter, it's only a matter of time before this love grows into something worth living for. [END]

♡ ╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗♡

Landen returns to the carpenter's shop from the inn late at night at around 1 am.

"My, what a storm... Good thing it's slowing down."

Then to his surprise, he sees his nephew Ryis and the farmer, sleeping on the couch sitting next to each other.

He smiles, figuring they were waiting out the storm.

He goes into the linen closet to grab a blanket and carefully covers the both of them. Then he leaves, turning off the light and going upstairs for the night.

[dykedvonte]

If Ulysses has a million haters, then I'm one of them. If Ulysses has one hater, then I'm THAT ONE. If Ulysses has no haters, that means I'm dead. If the world is with Ulysses than I’m against the world.

[mylittleredgirl]

i think i’m cured because i had the energy to put my hair up today for the first time in months! enjoy this picture of me, cured, accidentally framed with a tree growing out of my head

it’s more a cruller-based style than leia cinnamon buns, but you’ll have to trust me because i haven’t figured out how to take better pics of my hairstyles. i should, so i can document a bunch of my star trek type ones and then finally cut my hair lol. many of the tng era “just add an elaborate braid” styles aren’t too hard to do by myself, so i used to wear them to work, feeling like an enterprise officer getting ready for a stylish bridge shift.

i’m tempted to attempt some wires? or pipe cleaners? or something to try and get taitt’s braids from “descent.” sadly, i have determined the classic janice rand basketweave is impossible without a wig.

[messinheaven]

Hoping to use autism/ADHD tips/daily strategies even if I don't have any of that diagnosed but it just makes so much sense that me sticking to typical ppl routines ways doesn't work and I may need something a little different to function also finding so much reassurance that other people also struggle to like function daily on most basic tasks and maintenance and that they do have tips and solutions

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader

contents: fluff, suggestive. arranged marriage au. hints of slow burn. you like playing hard to get and he loves calling you his wife. 1.4k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ I had to deposit my messy thoughts somewhere and this headcanon post was the result.

part two here. ꒱

⭒ Arranged marriage with Sylus where he prefers to call it a “strategic partnership” as a means of appearances to flaunt that he has it all—an empire, riches, strength, influence and now a darling wife who waits for him at home. You’re not so much as a random choice, Sylus had been watching you from afar for a while and in exchange for his protection in the N109 zone he strikes a deal with you to play a simple role. You have every reason to be wary of him and know to keep your wits about yourself, but even you acknowledge that your chances are better with him. Though, if you asked him how he was so certain you’d agree to his proposal he’d admit that he wasn’t but he knew you’d consider it if he had an advantage over you.

⭒ He sets his terms and conditions—you reside in his humble abode, wedding ring always worn on your finger, and attend events with him as a pretty accessory on his arm to contribute to his image. But he’ll never admit that he actually enjoys your company at business functions that often feel dull to him. You are more than welcome to spend your days as you please so long you don’t cause him trouble, and that also means you have his black card privileges to spoil yourself rotten. Of course, he accommodates most requests you may have like sleeping in separate rooms if that’s what you wish (and redecorating because his furnishing decisions are quite bleak).

⭒ Luke and Kieran can sense that their boss feels something for you despite his nonchalance toward this little arrangement. It starts off small, it always does—Sylus takes note of your morning and night routine, your picky eating habits and has the chef make adjustments to your preference, how he sees you out in the gardens and come back with spring tulips to brighten the space and the next week he already replaced the slowly withering flowers with fresh ones. The twins whisper among themselves that he’s often less annoyed and irritated when you’re around, and their boss wouldn’t go through the trouble of being considerate unless he cares for you. It’s almost exciting for them both to witness a budding romance unfold before their very eyes and they do offer a helping hand here and there to keep things interesting.

⭒ Sylus thinks it’s adorable how you keep trying to resist him and that’s precisely the reason he loves seeking you out just to watch your resolve crumble under his touch. He finds you in the kitchen preparing a snack and cages you from behind with his hands planted on either side of you against the counter. “Hey kitten, I thought I’d find you in here.” You feel his hot breath down your neck as he pushes your hair aside just enough to lay a soft kiss on your shoulder. He chuckles when you comment that he’s being awfully touchy with you, and he purposely moves closer so that his chest is pressing against your back. “Perhaps I just can’t keep my hands to myself where you’re involved. Besides, you’re my wife now. I think I have the right to touch you whenever I like.”

⭒ You remind him that you’re his wife in title only, but that doesn’t discourage his flirtation and teasing as he allows you to nudge past him. He follows you into the common area and takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide and taking up a lot of space. His gaze is settled on you as he pats his thigh and his lips curl into a smirk. “Come here, wife.” You naturally scoff meanwhile you place the plate of seasonal fruits on the side table and situate yourself closest to the armrest, taking a bite into a juicy red strawberry as you ignore his piercing stare.

⭒ For someone who always gets what he wants, Sylus isn’t used to being defied like this. And had it been anyone else his patience would wear dangerously thin, but he supposes that you’re a special exception because he seems to enjoy the chase and claiming its reward. With one small gesture, he drags you across the couch by a gravitational pull and you squeal when the swirling red easily turn and maneuver you so you’re forced to straddle him and your hands prop on his shoulders for support. “There, much better. Comfy? This is the best seat in the house.” His gaze locks with yours, and he thinks you huffing and frowning at him is simply cute. He firmly grabs your wrist with the bitten strawberry in your hand and lifts it to his mouth for a sweet taste.

⭒ “No fair… using your Evol against me like this.” You grumble under your breath as you gently trail your thumb from his chin to the corner of his mouth where the strawberry juices began to spill. Then an impulsive thought takes over and you pinch his cheek between your fingers, creating a sticky mess on his face. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. That’s for treating me like a sack of potatoes.” He chuckles once more, his hand falling on your hip and he gives you a light squeeze. “Oh, I do have every intention of fully enjoying my wife tonight.” And by that, he means taking you out for a joyride on his motorbike and feeling your arms wrapped around him tightly as the engine roars through the streets under the night sky and sinking moon. Sylus would never engage in any intimate acts you weren’t ready for, but he loves seeing you fluster at his suggestive remarks.

⭒ As the weeks cross over into months, you never imagined that you’d be spending so much time with Sylus outside of your agreed terms. He’s everywhere in every waking moment of your life even when he’s not there physically. You’re learning new things about him each day and you (begrudgingly) like being around him—even when he can sometimes be a playful bully toward you. When he’s gone for long stretches of time to deal with negotiations and other important matters in the N109 zone, you can feel your heart yearning for him but you’d never say that you miss him out loud when you think he's still toying with you. But with the way he cares for you like you’re both in a real and genuine relationship, it’s hard to know his true intentions and keep your feelings buried deep inside your chest for long.

⭒ You accidentally confirm that Sylus does harbor romantic feelings for you when you carelessly bring up your replacement in a lighthearted joke. You’ve never seen his face falter so quickly at your words as he averts his gaze for a moment to collect himself—a hint of vulnerability in his crimson hues. “I wouldn’t have found a new wife.” He shakes his head and tells you, his voice a little rougher than before. You don’t know what to say, but you manage a soft “No?” that reaches his ears. “No. I wouldn’t have been able to replace you, kitten. You’re it for me. The only one. No one could fill the void you’d leave behind.”

⭒ You and Sylus have kissed before, but this is the first time you’re initiating it. As you brush your lips against his, there’s a softness you never noticed. His hand slips around the small of your back and he pulls you close against him, returning your kiss with the same tenderness as though savoring the taste of you. You lean back after a moment, your palm meeting his cheek in a sweet embrace. “You know, I'm still getting used to the idea that I’ve fallen for you.” You can see him returning back to normal when he offers you a cocky smirk. “And yet here you are. In my arms, with your lips on mine. I think you’re not being entirely honest, my beautiful wife.” Sylus has waited a long time to hear those words from you but you don’t need to know that right now.

[letoasai]

The Youngest Ancient

An idea where the JL has gotten word from Green Lantern that a planet has been destroyed. That threat is headed for Earth. 

We could blame it on Darkseid despite the fact that i don’t actually know if that’s within his power set. Bad guy of your choice. Keeping it vague works too. 

Danny finding out that one of his planets is gone and he’s not having it. 

~~

They were short on time. Monumentally short on time. Usually everyone would look to Batman in a situation like this. It wasn’t like his numerous contingency plans were a secret. The problem was time and an overall lack of information about the coming threat. All that was clear was the fact that Earth was in danger. 

Not even a normal, run of the mill danger, but the planet bleeding out of existence kind of danger. Supposedly it could happen so fast that the citizens of Earth wouldn’t even know it had happened. 

“There’s always begging an Ancient for help.” Constantine muttered, lighting another cigarette. As many members of the League as possible had gathered but brainstorming could only get them so far. 

Multiple gazes snapped to him but it was Wonder Woman who spoke first. “You think petitioning the gods would be a wise course of action?” 

“Could be the only course of action.” Flash muttered though no one looked happy about it. 

“Nah, it’s a much crazier idea than that.” Constantine said flatly. “We’re not talking about any of those old hats we’re used to dealing with. I mean an Ancient. Their powers are next level stuff. Above the gods on the totem pole, if you will.” 

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “You want to bring in a complete unknown.” 

“I want the planet to fucking be in the same spot tomorrow, mate.” Constantine snapped back. They were out of time but he evidently had more practice at being reckless then the rest of the League. “Heard tales of a new baby Ancient. A likable kid that has many of the heavy hitters doting on `em. Word is the baby Ancient is rather agreeable. Makes deals. Likes to explore. That kind of thing.” 

“Baby Ancient.” Superman repeated, clearly hearing the oxymoron in that title. “How does that work?”

“Well they gotta come from somewhere, don’t they?” Constantine shrugged. He didn’t know and he wasn’t going to ask. 

“I’ve heard the same rumors.” Zatanna heaved a sigh, adding credence to Constantine’s claims. “Even if they can’t do anything themself, they might have enough pull with one of the other Ancients that can.” 

Flash clucked his tongue. “We literally have everything to lose if we don’t do something. If no one else has any other ideas then we need to give it a shot.” 

“How long do you need to prepare?” Batman asked, his frown obvious. He never fully liked ideas that he didn’t have a hand in.

Constantine sat up straighter, taking a pull from his cigarette and already looking exhausted. “Gimme an hour.” 

“I’ll help.” Zatanna said, already standing. 

“Forty minutes then.” 

~

The light of the summoning circle was hard to look at. It was like a mini supernova right in front of them. The colors would have been amazing to look at if anyone could have opened their eyes to see it. 

When it dimmed, leaving only a toxic looking green glow around the circle, a young boy floated in the center. His hair was white and flowed even in the tightly air controlled Watch tower. The freckles across his face seemed to glow just like his green eyes. 

He was cute, and couldn't have been more than fifteen. He wore a skintight black suit, calf high white boots, and had a strange looking thermos hanging off his belt. So this was a baby Ancient. He looked utterly perplexed. 

“Um…” He blinked, taking in every member of the Justice League slowly.

“Welcome to the Justice League Watch Tower.” Wonder Woman said, ever the diplomat. “We apologize for summoning you on such short notice.” 

“Oh. Okay.” He was still blinking owlishly before his eyes locked onto one of the windows that currently had a vast view of space. The boy all but purred at the sight. “You can call me Phantom. What do you want?” 

“You’re the new Ancient?” Constantine asked without as much tacked.

Phantom sighed, shifting to sit even as he floated. “So they tell me. I didn’t know there was going to be a superhero test.” 

“We summoned you to request assistance if you are able to give it.” Batman said, taking over. “A threat is coming to destroy the Earth and we don’t have much time. Is there something in particular you would want in payment?” 

“Besides souls.” Constantine muttered which subtly alarmed everyone within earshot. 

“Destroy…Earth?” Phantom repeated slowly, head tilting. It was slowly occurring to everyone that maybe a baby Ancient really was too young to deal with something like this. “Why?”

Green Lantern sighed, arms crossed. “I’m likely the cause. Earth is the home base for Lanterns in this sector. The previous planet destroyed was also a home base.” 

Phantom’s eyes jerked up, his full attention on Green Lantern. “Previous planet destroyed? Where?” He paused, “And when? I have been feeling a little off.” 

No one knew quite what to make of the strange comment, but Lantern continued anyway. “A planet in the neighboring sector, 2813. It has been eight days, and before long, that threat will be here.” 

“Is it possible you know of a way to prevent the destruction of Earth?” Wonder Woman asked, but Phantom seemed distracted. 

He removed his gloves and was looking at the back of his hands. When that didn’t seem to tell him what he wanted, he tugged on his sleeve, making the fabric go invisible in small sections so he could easily look at his skin beneath it without the cumbersome task of rolling his sleeves up. 

He was covered in glowing freckles, just like on his face, but one by one the League members took notice of the way they moved. Phantom would twist his arm one way and then another and each set of freckles would be replaced by a completely new set of glowing little spots. When that didn’t show him what he wanted, he kept looking, checking both arms first before moving down his chest slowly. 

The League could do nothing but watch the strangeness before them as their follow up questions went ignored. 

When he got to a spot under his ribs, Phantom screeched. “It’s gone!” 

“Phantom…?” 

Phantom looked out the Watch Tower window, his face morphing into one of fury. His eyes shined brightly and whatever he was looking for, he clearly found. 

“T̢̜̞̮ͭ̓ͫͦh̨̻̼͓͓̜ͭ̈͆ȃ̴̩ͅtͯ̚͏͇̮̖̙ ̡̭͎̝̟͇͙̏ͣ̑͛m̵̭͉͈̳̟͎͈̲̋̋o͈̮̫͓̪͔͐͠t͉̬̉͒̈́ͪ͠h͉̠̭͓̞͎̺͓ͥͥ͘e̅͗̔̿҉̞̪̺̮̗̜r͙̪̼͈̐̉͞ ̫̥̳̿̾͒͑͞f͔̟͈͍ͯ̊̏́ù̶̯̬̫͈͕c̲ͣ̓̿͠ͅk̦̘̖̭͕͉̹̥̈̍̈́ͤ͘e͚̬͗͡ͅr̛̤̩̺͂̃̇̉ͅ.”

To say the Justice League was surprised by the shift in the boys tone was an understatement. 

“Yeah, i’ll stop your threat.” Phantom growled, easily leaving the summoning circle. He shifted right through the wall and directly into space without a care. 

Silence filled the room, no one entirely sure what they’d done by summoning a baby Ancient. “So that happened.” Flash commented. “Are we still planning for doomsday?” 

“We’ll see…” Constantine muttered. “Though if that kid gets hurt, might be bad for the universe.” 

“Not what we wanted to hear, John.” Wonder Woman said, looking out the window. Nothing looked unusual to her. 

~

In an hour's time, Phantom returned just as distracted as he’d been when he’d left. He remained seated in the air as he held what looked like a cracked marble in his hands. It was surrounded by a mist, and inside sparked with many different colors. 

Phantom seemed to be sealing the crack, a smile on his face. 

Batman was the one to approach, and if he was anxious it was hard to tell. “Phantom.” He greeted cautiously. “You’re back.”

“Uh huh.” Phantom said, eyes glittering happily at the marble. “I got rid of your problem. Earth is safe.” 

“Got…rid of.” Batman repeated slowly, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. 

“So we’re good?” Flash asked. “Good work, kid.” 

“Yeah, he deserved it.” Phantom said, finally cradling the smooth marble in his palm. 

Constantine was still smoking, but his eyes were narrowed. “Do i wanna know what you’re doin’?”

Phantom beamed. “I got my planet back! It was a little broken but i fixed it.” 

“Your planet?” Green Lantern repeated, adrenaline hitting him. “The destroyed planet!?” 

“Yep.” Phantom looked pleased with himself. “Now i just gotta set it back in time eight days to get everyone back on track and i can put it back where it belongs.” 

“Put it…back.” Batman seemed to have trouble with the skill set of one teenager.” 

It was Superman who slid closer with a disarmingly charming smile. “May i ask what kind of Ancient you are. I admit i don’t know much about them.” 

Phantom perked up. “I’m the Ancient of Space!” He ignored Constantine’s groan from across the room. “I’m really glad you guys called me about this! It would have taken me a while to find a planet destroyed out of the natural timeline.” 

“And you have time abilities?” Wonder Woman asked softly. Time and Space was a heady combination. 

“Nope! But Clockwork does.” Phantom said. “He’ll do it for me.” 

“Will he?” The Flash stared. 

Phantom didn’t seem to notice the incredulous looks. As far as he was concerned, everyone was simply taking his explanations in stride. Tilting his head back his eyes shimmered with power. “Clockwork!” he called, voice reverberating oddly. No one missed Zatanna paling or Constantine cursing. No one had time to ask either before a tear appeared just to the right of Phantom. It split the very air apart in a green haze before a portal opened and a man floated out. Wrapped in a purple cloak, the man floated like Phantom did but had a ghostly tail instead of legs and off putting red eyes. 

He had a staff donned with clock gears and mechanisms that ticked in an unsettling way. No one needed an explanation, which was good because Constantine wasn’t going to give one. 

This was the Ancient of Time. They had two Ancients in the Watch Tower. 

Phantom didn’t seem bothered and held out his marble with a smile. “Fix!” he asked cheerfully. 

Clockwork turned from what appeared to be an adult man to an elderly man in the blink of an eye. “You know time is sensitive, Phantom. Not everything can be changed on a whim." 

Phantom’s smile lessened. He looked back and forth from Clockwork to the marble and back to Clockwork again. “I’ll cry. Swear to the Ancients, i’ll start crying.” 

The elderly Clockwork shifted back into the form of a young man. “Do you think tears will alter the timeline?” 

Batman smiled, almost. He knew a mischievous teen trying to get his way when he saw one. That theory proved correct when Phantom honestly did begin to sniffle, eyes becoming damp. 

“An asshole destroyed a piece of me.” Phantom said, lips wobbling. “I felt it. I didn’t feel good.” 

Clockwork’s form shifted again, this time into the form of a young child. He heaved a sigh, “If you start weeping you’ll summon the others.” 

Phantom nearly whimpered, holding out the marble still. Every member of the Justice League watched with bated breath. 

Clockwork crossed his arms. “How far back do you want it?” 

“Yay!” Phantom beamed immediately, impressing upon how young he must have been. “Eight days! Actually, maybe nine. That might be better for them. I’m sure the…Green Lantern…people… can explain that they lost little more than a week in order to be brought back. That’ll be fine, right?” 

Green Lantern was too stunned by the question to answer but it was fine since it seemed to be rhetorical coming from the young Ancient. 

Clockwork turned back into an adult and held his staff out over the marble Phantom held. There was no discernible change other than the hands on the staff’s clock face moving. Phantom was nearly bouncing in place which was interesting to see considering his feet weren’t on the floor. 

“Thank you, Clockwork!” Phantom said, looking delighted and completely missing the way Clockwork just sighed fondly. 

“Hurry along home before the yeti’s start to look for you.” Clockwork said in a fairly familiar tone. 

“Yes, yes.” Phantom said distractedly, tossing the marble up in the air where it disappeared. He tugged at his black suit right over his ribs and did the same invisibility trick again. He shifted twice until he found the patch of skin that held the group of freckles he wanted. 

No one was close enough to see for themselves, but Phantom crowed happily. “Good! It’s back where it’s supposed to be!” 

“It’s back?” Batman asked, a hint in his voice saying he had a hundred more questions. 

“Yep.” Phantom said. “It’s really annoying to me when someone destroys one of my stars or planets before their natural life cycles have worn out.” 

“Is that a map of the galaxy on your skin?” Wonder Woman asked, charmed by the constellation of freckles across his nose and under his pointed ears. 

“No.” Phantom said. “It’s a map of every universe on my skin. They overlap so sometimes i gotta hunt for the one i want a little.” 

“Every…” Superman sounded like he had the wind knocked out of him. 

“Come, Your Majesty.” Clockwork said, opening a shockingly green portal with his staff. “You’ve had your fun.” 

“Okay, okay.” Phantom mumbled. 

“Majesty?” Zatanna whispered, confusion coloring her tone. 

Phantom whipped back around to look at her with a sheepish grin. “Ah, yeah. I’m the King of the infinite Realm. Let me know if anyone else messes with one of my planets! Bye now.” 

The Ancients departed and Constantine started wheezing. 

“I take it no one knew the baby Ancient was a king?” Flash asked, a very startled silence taking over the Watch Tower. 

~~

I know i originally said that the planet had been destroyed but that somehow turned into it being eaten or absorbed or something so Danny got it back. 

I really just wanted Danny to find a missing planet on his skin and freaking out over it. 

Feel free to take this idea, though i’m sure something like it exists already. ^__^

Master List

[nereidprinc3ss]

no sweeter innocence (than our gentle sin)

in which spencer reid is gentle with overwhelmed fem!reader after sex

18+ (fluff, implied intimacy) warnings/tags: it's just aftercare, but like psychological aftercare, implied intimacy duh, vague descriptions of sex but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort without the hurt, allusions to postcoital dysphoria, reader cries but its not really sad, spencer reid is so kind i wish men were real, i think that is all a/n: guess who wrote an entirely different thing instead of touching her wips..... AGAIN...... this bitch cant do anything omggg!! but this was based on a request so go me also what a strange time to be posting but it's only 1k words and nobody can stop me

“Hey. Are you with me, angel?”

You blink your eyes open in the dark room—reorienting yourself to the tangle of your bodies. How many minutes has it been?

“Hm?”

He chuckles—a quick huff from his nose as he brings a hand up to push hair from your face. 

“I asked you if you’re with me.”

It takes you a moment to answer. You’re still trying to make sense of where you are in space, each sensation coming back to you one by one—the weight and pressure of him against you, the slip of cotton sheets and a cool breeze from the cracked window over your heated sticky skin. 

“Oh.”

It’s not much of an answer and your voice is small. For a moment he lets it sit, cupping your warm cheek. Your eyes flutter shut again. His voice comes gentler, dipped in concern. 

“You okay?”

This time you don’t try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping he’ll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until you’re sure you won’t float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately. 

“Can you answer me?” He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position. And then, a moment later— “Baby. I wanna hear your voice.”

“Mhm,” you manage. 

Spencer rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry. 

“Wasn’t too much? You’re not hurting anywhere?”

You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you can’t seem to get him close enough. 

“Mm-mm.”

It’s not entirely true—your legs are sore, but it’s nothing that needs tending to, and your lower back is a bit crampy, but he’s already working on that. 

He hums. “You’re pretty out of it, sweet girl. What’s going on with you?”

Spencer is always careful with you. He’d never hurt you, or sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure. That said, he’s just as passionate as you are. The stretch of your arms above your head is still fresh in your mind—the ghost of his grip, pressing your wrists into the mattress, or pushing your leg up, or pulling you exactly where he wanted you by the hips. It’s all wonderful, and you never feel safer than you do when you’re with him, but it doesn’t make you feel any less vulnerable, any less raw, after all is said and done. Maybe it’s precisely because you trust him so much that you’re so sensitive afterward. But he never, ever makes you feel bad for having an intense reaction to an intense experience. He always meets you where you’re at. That in itself makes you emotional. Spencer is different than any of the partners you’d had before. 

Again, he’s patient as you try to process his question and work up a response. Maybe a minute later, you’re breathing out something that feels true. 

“Overwhelmed.”

The word is a tap against glass you didn’t know was there until it’s fracturing like a spiderweb. With no warning, and for no good reason, you find yourself choked up. 

“Oh,” he says, sympathetic and drawn out as understanding sets in. “Do you need me to back off for a minute?”

You squeeze him even fiercer and shake your head, unable to stop the tears from drawing their shiny paths down your cheeks and sinking into the weave of the pillow case. 

“Shh. You’re okay,” he murmurs, quiet and slow and almost sing-songy as he smooths your hair, though you know he doesn’t really expect you to stop crying. “You’re okay, pretty. Remember what I said about all the hormonal shifts in your body after you come?”

Once more you nod against him with a small, shuddering sniffle. 

“And how sometimes your body regulates by crying? Kind of like a… a reset button?”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm.” He shifts from rubbing your back to tracing light lines in shapeless patterns with the blunt edges of his nails, and your breath catches before you’re melting in his hold. “It’s okay to have big or confusing feelings after sex. It’s actually really common. I just want you to be honest with me about those feelings, right? So we can keep you safe?”

“Right.”

“Would you tell me if you were hurting, or if something I did or said was bothering you?”

“Yes.”

If you were looking at him you know he’d be smiling ever so slightly at your monosyllabic responses, charting an upward path with his hand and pushing it through your hair at the nape of your neck. “You can just nod, baby. You don’t have to talk. I know you’re tired.”

You make a small noise of gratitude and nuzzle closer, feeling better as the tears slow, quickly as they’d come. 

“Do you want a bath in a little while?”

Another nod. He scratches at your scalp. “Okay. We’ll do a bath, and then dinner, and then I’m finally going to make you watch that documentary about Helvetica. It’s a little outdated, and there are a few basic errors about the origin and development of the font as well as misinformation about the typeface subgroup in general, but I can amend those as we watch and afterward we can read the director’s tenth anniversary statement. I was waiting to read it until we watched it together.”

Spencer knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll fall asleep ten minutes in, curled up on the couch under a blanket in your biggest hoodie with your head on his lap and his hand in your hair, just like this. 

He’s actually really looking forward to it.