#listen it's my birthday and i'll reply if i want to

[trippinsorrows]

are jey's kids really bad or is that just roman being a grump?

oh no, they are bad. lol you ever seen bebe's kids? imagine that.

something like this....

-----

"i want the shipment moved no later than—" the sound of an object crashing and shattering interrupts roman, the speaker shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

third.

this is the third goddamn interruption in under half an hour, and there is no doubt in roman's mind that the cause is the same as it was the prior two times.

and judging by the look on jey's face, he thinks the same too.

standing up, he turns his body toward the house and calls out, "hey, what ya'll doing!"

jimmy snorts and takes a sip of his beer. "ain't it obvious? breaking shit."

jey shoots his twin a look that's the equivalent of 'shut the fuck up' as jey moves onto requesting the presence of his unruly children. "ya'll, get out here now!"

at that, roman scowls. "can't you go to them?" roman could go the rest of his life without being around jey's children, and having already had the displeasure of interacting with them twice today thus far, he's reached his max.

jey starts to offer a rebuttal, reminding his cousin that it was roman who wanted to have the meeting at someone's place other than his. something about the twins being 'destructive'.

it's not like they didn't pay for the repairs on the maserati.

roman grabs his own beer, downing the rest as one by one, the result of jey not being smart enough to use a condom—all four times—come running out, mischief written all over their faces.

but, jey is more focused on the black eye on one of his kids, the matted hair of another, and the small cut on the eyebrow on a third kid.

"what the hell done happened to ya'll?" he doesn't wait for a reply, reminding them, "jordan, were you trying to kill josiah again?"

jordan looks just as unremorseful as he feels, defending, "he deserved it!"

at that, roman actually agrees. out of all of jey's wild offspring, josiah has always been the most irritating.

he probably had it coming.

"how many times i gotta tell ya'll? you can only beat each other up to fight, not to kill!" jey blows out a breath, hands over his face. he sounds as exasperated as roman feels. maybe it's worth whatever destruction his cousins cause to just have meetings at his house. that's not as taxing as being around this shit.

journee, a little nicki in training, just has to chime in, pointing like the snitch she is, "he was being a little bitch, daddy!"

"aye!" jey interrupts, voice firm. "what i tell ya'll about all that goddamn cussing?" he doesn't wait for a reply, scolding them yet again, "stop using all that fuckin' language in my motherfuckin' house!"

one of the kids rolls their eyes, the second oldest boy, roman guesses, is quick with a smartass reply. "mama said we ain't gotta listen to you."

"she said what?"

jimmy shakes his head, murmuring to roman as he gazes at the uncovered pool, the sun reflecting off the lights at the bottom. "here we go...."

"she said you a bit—"

"that's enough!" jey marches over to the table, snatching his phone and mumbling to roman and his twin about being 'right back.' the last thing that's heard is jey laying into nicki, "who the hell you think you are telling my kids—what was that? bitch, i know you not with ole' dude again! man, i'll kill his ass and make you watch!"

the kids, thankfully, disperse back into the house.

roman is ready to pass on his parting words to jimmy and be the fuck gone. the desire for a good workout—or fucking—growing by the second. he might have to hit up sasha. sam was on that shit last time, and he's already in a foul mood.

but, a tug on his sleeve prevents him from doing that, roman's disdain painted over his handsome face. "what?" he asks, gruffly.

jayla rolls her brown eyes and only extends out her open palm. "my birthday is next month."

"and?" roman's more likely to wish jey's youngest daughter a 'happy accidental existence' day than 'happy birthday.'

however, she's undeterred, reminding, "my money?"

that, however, makes roman chuckle. he'd almost forgotten that out the four, she happens to be his favorite unfavorite. he don't like none of him, but she's not as intolerable as the rest. and her hustle is impressive.

pulling out his wallet, he asks, "how old you turning? 5?"

"i'm turning 7, uncle roman." she scoffs, maybe to herself, or him. "old people...."

at that, roman pauses, "you want the money or what, kid?"

she looks down, sheepishly, as roman counts out three hundred dollar bills, laying them in her waiting hand. "there. now don't bother me again until next year."

it's an easy request for the almost 7 year old, her eyes wide as she imagines all the robux she'll be able to get.

stuffing the money into her pocket, she nods and offers appreciation. "good to see you, uncle roman." roman shakes his head as jayla moves over to jimmy. "uncle jimmy....."

however, jimmy is not roman. "girl, i ain't got no money."

jayla stays true to her no filter nature. "so you're a broke ass?"

at that, roman turns his head. he actually has to hold back his smile. yeah, jayla might most definitely become his favorite at some point.

"broke ass?" jimmy, of course, fails to see that he's being baited by a damn second grader and yanks out his wallet, counting out a stack of hundreds and giving it to her. "how's that for broke ass?"

jayla looks like she just won the lottery, and at her age, she essentially just did. she doesn't bother with an expression of appreciation before dashing off with all her money.

and roman just watches as recognition dawns on jimmy's face, effectively ridding him of that goofy ass smile. "wait, that was my strip club money." he hops off the stool and goes after his niece. "get back here, you lil samoan wednesday!"

[donghoonie-3]

Panicking rn 💀

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days. 

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days. 

It’s scary. 

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else. 

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space. 

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up. 

But you’re not quite there yet. 

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy. 

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting. 

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice. 

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting. 

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either. 

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause. 

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally. 

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick. 

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach. 

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment. 

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all. 

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat. 

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat. 

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself. 

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position. 

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him. 

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass. 

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that. 

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step. 

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy. 

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you. 

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea. 

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence. 

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes. 

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there. 

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather. 

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do. 

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue. 

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder. 

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out. 

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person. 

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now. 

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort. 

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you. 

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him. 

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle. 

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer. 

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up. 

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes. 

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.  

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man. 

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that. 

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind. 

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—” 

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again. 

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this. 

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings. 

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you. 

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff. 

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group. 

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice. 

Soon, it’s just the two of you. 

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond. 

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.” 

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high. 

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder. 

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts. 

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence. 

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice. 

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud. 

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing. 

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset. 

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running. 

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears. 

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream. 

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care. 

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right. 

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you. 

You feel like you might throw up. 

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away. 

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking. 

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is. 

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying. 

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder. 

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette. 

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you. 

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection. 

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you. 

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them. 

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again. 

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.  

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale. 

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice. 

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive. 

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more. 

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby. 

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again. 

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink. 

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.  

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words. 

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles. 

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk. 

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup. 

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant. 

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit. 

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it. 

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede. 

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done. 

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you. 

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him. 

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom. 

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta. 

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever. 

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side. 

“You in there?” 

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup. 

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing. 

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes. 

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating. 

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him. 

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate. 

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed. 

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive. 

Spencer attempts to speak again. 

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?” 

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face. 

You don’t know where it comes from, either. 

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms. 

Too scared. 

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too. 

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room. 

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final. 

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home. 

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do. 

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing. 

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet. 

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move. 

If only time would freeze before he could walk away. 

But it doesn’t. 

He sucks in a decisive breath. 

“Okay,” he murmurs. 

It’s that fucking phone call all over again. 

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up. 

-

part 5.5

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

one night, one call l Joel Miller

Summary:  the trip to the bar ended differently than you planned

Warnings:  +18, smut, angst, swearing, abusive relationship, crying, mention of violence, unprotected sex (she's on the pill, but remember - safety first), oral sex (receiving f), praise kink, cigarettes

A/N: 200 followers milestone! Thank you so much for being here and dedicating your time to my scribbles. I hope they bring you at least a little joy. Your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

The door slammed behind you with a bang that no one heard because of the music playing inside the pub. The night was starry and cool. However, you didn't feel the cold because of the rage and helplessness you felt inside. 

Your cheeks were burning and your throat was painfully tight as you sat down on a nearby bench and helplessly hid your face in your hands, letting out a muffled groan of rage.

You wanted to throw everything to hell, leave town and change your name, but all you felt inside was total humiliation and helplessness.

"Want a smoke?"

A low male voice tore you from the clutches of despair and brought you back to that uncomfortable bench and into the embrace of the cold night. 

You raised your eyes and saw the silhouette of a man who must have approached you when you were despairing. You immediately thought that your lack of vigilance in such a situation was very risky, but you were relieved at the sight of a familiar face.

"Joel..." you sighed, straightening up on the bench, "Thanks, but I don't smoke. Although... Fuck it."

You took a cigarette from the pack he held out to you, then used his lighter. You took a drag and blew a trail of gray smoke from your mouth.

"Thanks." you said, "Did you come to make fun of me again?" you laughed desperately, "We'll have a laugh, and then I'll finally cry."

"Your boyfriend is..."

"Asshole. I know." you interrupted him and put the cigarette to your lips again, "I'm sorry. I'm mad, and he's your friend after all."

"Don't apologize." Joel sat down next to you, sitting comfortably and stretching his long legs in front of him, "He's a dick."

You smiled. 

You had known Joel Miller for a long time, you didn't even know how long. It was at his birthday party that you met Dylan and somehow you became a couple. It was over half a year ago and you were already regretting that you had let Joel convince you to go out.

"He wasn't like this before." you started, staring at the bright windows of the building across the street. "It was cool at first."

"It's always like this." Joel mumbled. "What changed?"

"I don't know." you shrugged. "I guess I started bothering him. Besides... You heard it yourself."

Joel regretted that he had heard everything that had been said between you and Dylan, because it was just terribly unpleasant. 

It started with you wanting to dance, but Dylan wasn't interested. So you went dancing alone, and then he went into a weird jealous phase and gave you a loud lecture about how you dressed like a whore and you definitely want to find yourself a new dick. Your friends tried to calm him down, but when you said he had too much to drink and maybe you should go back, he told you to fuck off because "no pussy will rule him."

You were silent for a moment, finishing your cigarettes and listening to the muffled sounds coming from the pub. Finally, you crushed your cigarette on the edge of the bench.

"How's Sarah?" you asked, looking at Joel, and he smiled.

He always smiled like that when you asked about her.

"Fine." he replied "She's sleeping over at a friend's tonight. So..."

"Daddy's having a night out." you laughed "Cool. It's just a shame you're spending it with me on the bench instead of with your friends inside. You should go back to them."

"Naaah. I don't feel like it." he replied, turning the box of cigarettes in his fingers, clearly lost in thought "Listen, Y/N... I know it's none of my business..."

"Please, I don't want to talk about him." you interrupted him again.

"You don't have to be loyal to someone who treats you like that. I would never do something like that."

"I know, Joel. You're one of the good ones." You smiled. "But I have to handle this, you know. But I guess I'm too afraid of being alone..."

"Better to be alone than with a dick like that. Sorry, but that's the truth." Joel stood up and stretched, then scratched his already slightly ruffled hair. "A hot chick like you deserves someone better."

"Do you think I'm a hot chick?"

Your question made him a little uncomfortable, but he didn't show it. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.

"You know I do." He replied. "Oh, and that's the smile I like so much."

You shook your head in disbelief.

"Joel, it's not nice to play with a poor girl's heart." you said, standing up and glancing at your watch. "I think I should take my slutty dress home. It's getting really late."

"Do you need a ride?"

"No, thanks. You've already done a lot sitting here with me."

"It's no problem. Call or text if you need anything."

"Sure. Bye."

How could you have known that you would need it that same night?

The sound of the phone ringing echoed through the bedroom and penetrated his head unbearably. He woke up disoriented and immediately reached for his watch. It was almost four in the morning, it was still dark outside.

"Fuck..." he groaned, trying to feel for the phone on the nightstand, "Yeah?"

"J-Joel?"

He immediately woke up and sat up in bed. Your voice had completely changed. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

"Y/N? What happened? Is everything okay?" he asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

"Y-Yeah..." you answered uncertainly, your voice trembling, "No, nothing's okay... I'm sorry, Joel. I didn't know what to... I immediately thought of you and..."

"It's okay. Tell me what happened?" he swung his legs off the bed and rubbed his sleepy eyes with his free hand.

"Dylan... I..." your voice broke every now and then and Joel guessed you were crying "He came here... We had a terrible fight. He was drunk... He tried to..."

"Did he do something to you?"

Joel felt his heart stop for a moment. He wasn't sleepy anymore, but fully conscious. His fingers tightened around the phone as he waited for your answer.

"No, but... He wanted to, so I just threw him out the door." you sobbed, already completely falling apart "He was still screaming and banging on the door... I was terrified..." you sobbed "I told him it was over, that I didn't want to see him anymore... I guess I shouldn't have... I'm sorry I woke you up, I'm so stupid!"

"Hey! Calm down." he interrupted you, getting up and reaching for the jeans lying on the floor "Are you alone now? Did you close the door properly?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Where are you now?"

"I locked myself in the bathroom. That's stupid..."

Joel had already put on his jeans and was running down the stairs to the dark living room. He grabbed his car keys lying on the table and headed for the door.

"Stay there. I'll be there in a moment." he said as he walked down the driveway to his car. "I'll call when I'm at your door."

"Joel, that's not necessary..."

But he had already hung up and was starting the engine. He abruptly backed out and a moment later he was driving down one of the main streets. It wasn't until the first red light that he realized that he was gripping the steering wheel with all his might and constantly rushing in his mind.

But he didn't feel like thinking about it. The fear that was coursing through his veins was turning into anger and rage. He felt his heart pounding harder and harder. The whole situation seemed completely unreal to him. But he could still hear your trembling voice, that was the worst.

He stopped in front of your door and as soon as you opened it his knees almost buckled under him. Your eyes were red and puffy, your hair disheveled. He quickly went inside, and you let him hug you.

You sank into his arms as if only they could save you at that moment.

"Hey, it's okay." His voice was soothing as he stroked your hair "I'm here. You're safe."

"Joel..." you groaned, pulling away from him "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called..."

"Stop apologizing, sweetie, and tell me what happened." He replied, taking your face in his hands.

So you told him everything again, and he had to ask you to calm down a few more times, because you were falling apart again. His brown eyes watched you closely, and when you finished, his hand grabbed your wrist.

"What the fuck is this?" he asked coldly.

You looked at your arm. There was a strong and clear mark of a man's hand on your forearm.

"He did it?"

Joel's voice sent shivers down your spine. You'd never heard him like that before. His jaw clenched tightly as he stared at you with such intensity that you felt like he was staring straight through you. You nodded.

You didn't need to say anything more. Joel stormed out of your apartment and you didn't even have time to scream to stop him.

It had been over an hour since you saw him again. The sky was starting to lighten on the horizon when Joel appeared in your doorway. His eyes darkened and his body tensed. He entered the apartment and you already knew that something more had happened.

"Joel?"

"Dylan won't be bothering you anymore." His voice was low but calm.

"Joel? What did you do?" you asked, approaching him.

"I talked to him," he replied. "I should have done it a long time ago. About half a year ago."

Your gaze went to his hand. The bloody knuckles were the answer to everything. You covered your mouth with your hand, terrified.

"He won't press charges, don't worry about that." he said seeing your reaction. "And he definitely won't come near you again."

"You shouldn't..." you choked out, shaking your head.

"Shouldn't I stand up for you?" he asked "Please, Y/N! I couldn't stand to watch how this guy treats you! You deserve so much, so much better." Joel unconsciously raised his voice, but he didn't notice it because the words were spilling out of his mouth "You were always so kind and sweet, and he was a fucking asshole because he didn't see what a wonderful woman he had next to him! It makes me sick to think that you and him... Dylan didn't deserve you, Y/N! He should be happy I didn't knock his teeth out anyway."

"Joel..."

He looked at you from under his furrowed brows. Anger was still boiling inside him, and his hand hurt a little. But none of that mattered. What mattered was you and how you felt. And your eyes were wide, because you were staring at him, terrified by everything that had happened. 

"Listen, Y/N..." he said, approaching you and taking your face in his hands. "I won't let anyone hurt you again, do you understand? You shouldn't blame yourself. You didn't do anything wrong. He was a fucking bastard, he just let it out now. I'm just sorry you had to go through this."

"I wasn't alone..."

He felt your hands on his, they were so pleasantly warm and soft. And although your eyes were still red, he didn't see the same fear in them as when he first saw you. Maybe that's why he decided to finally do it, something he had been thinking about for so long, but still thought he shouldn't.

You felt his warm lips as they crushed yours. A few gentle pecks, but when he felt you return his kisses, they became deeper. You felt his tongue as he slipped between your lips, caressing you pleasantly.

Your body responded automatically. You clung to him, sliding your fingers through his hair. He smelled of the remnants of his cologne and the cigarette you had smoked together, but it didn't bother you. 

This was him, the one you knew. The one who defended you and was always there for you, who told you nice things and was happy to see you. The one who would never hurt you.

"Say the word..." he murmured in your ear as his kisses slid down your neck "I don't want you to regret this."

"I only regret that we didn't do this earlier." you replied "I want you, Joel. If you want me."

"You don't even know how much..."

His hands rested on your hips, squeezing them lightly and pushing them closer to his. You immediately felt the bulge in his jeans and something pleasant fluttered in your lower abdomen. You were the cause of it, and it was exciting.

You didn't remember how on earth you got rid of your clothes, slowly heading towards your bedroom, breaking the kisses only for a moment to get rid of another unnecessary piece of clothing. You always thought Joel was handsome, but when you saw him naked you felt your mouth get wetter.

Wide and strong shoulders covered in skin that looked as if kissed by the sun, a soft belly and a nice path of hair leading to a hard manhood. You were the one who looked like a walking mess, but he didn't see that.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." he whispered as he laid you on the bed and his eyes could feast on your body.

Your body quivered as he moved his hand down your side to your thigh. He smiled seeing you bite your lip. Joel kissed you again, but only for a moment. Soon his lips slowly went down to your collarbone, lower to your sternum, and then closed on your nipple, sucking and caressing it tenderly with his tongue.

You closed your eyes enjoying the feeling, and when his hand gently tightened on your other breast you let out a quiet moan. Joel liked that. His mouth left your nipple with a wet pop to move on to the other. His hard cock pressed against your thigh, and you felt the heat in your body that needed to release.

Your hand slipped between your hot bodies and his sigh of contentment filled your ears as you grabbed his cock and moved your hand up and down. You could feel how wet you were just from listening to his moans.

"I want to taste you." You whispered.

He didn't protest, or rather he couldn't at that moment, so you rolled him onto his back. Now you were the one kissing him, and then you slid lower. Your warm, wet tongue slid down his neck as you kissed and bit the skin, then your lips moved lower and lower across his chest.

He probably let out all the air from his lungs when he felt your breath on the tip of his cock. You gave him a single lick, and then you slid it into your mouth. You felt the slightly salty taste and the weight of it on your tongue. It was long and hard. Joel lifted his hips and moaned loudly as you took him deeper, almost choking on him. 

His fingers gripped your hair as he guided you the way he wanted and needed. You let him do it, trusting him completely. You felt his body tense with every movement, and your tongue didn't make it any easier for him to control himself.

"Baby..." he whispered with difficulty "You have to stop, or I won't last much longer."

You hummed something, sending vibrations to his member, and he moaned louder and quickly moved your head away from his crotch. You didn't have much time to react. His arms gathered you to him and in an instant you felt his strong body pressing gently against yours.

"I want to be inside you." he panted, spreading your thighs. "Will you take me?"

"Yes, Joel."

You didn't want to wait any longer. His tip slid across your lips a few times, and then slowly pushed inside. The walls slowly stretched to take him. His size took your breath away, but Joel did it slowly enough that you could get used to the feeling.

"I feel so full." you said when he stopped.

"Not yet."

He lifted your leg slightly and pushed his hips, you squealed, feeling him even deeper. God! The feeling was captivating. His hot body pleasantly crushed yours, his cock buried in you to the base.

You wrapped your legs around his waist feeling that you were already used to this feeling, but you were wrong. With the first thrust you lost your breath again. But Joel was gracious, with the second and third he stopped again for a moment. He was clearly delighted with your reaction, because you saw how his shiny eyes looked at you with admiration.

"You're doing great, baby." he praised you, kissing you gently on the corner of your mouth "You're so brave. Do you feel it? You took me so deep. Brave girl."

Fuck! 

The words hit exactly where they were supposed to. Your body relaxed and his hips could accelerate, slamming into you faster and faster. You dug your fingers into his shoulders, feeling that if you didn't, you'd eventually somehow slide off the bed, and you didn't want that.

His lips found your nipple again. He sucked on it, and you tensed from the overwhelming feeling.

"Fuck, Joel... Harder, please..." you moaned, "Harder."

"Are you sure?"

All you could do was nod. He took your hands, pressing them above your head, your fingers intertwined so tightly that it was almost painful, but you didn't care.

Joel's hips thrust harder, hitting exactly where you needed him. Suddenly, when you felt how close you were, he let go of your hands. He lifted up and now he was kneeling between your legs. He grabbed your hips, lifting them slightly, and then he started thrusting. You managed to grip the headrest as you felt him so deep again. Your walls began to tighten around his cock.

"Come on, baby." he panted. "Give it to me, I know you can. Fuck! I'm so close."

"Joel!"

"I know, I know baby."

When he placed his thumb on your clit, making small circles, you completely drifted off. Your walls squeezed, sending pleasure through your entire body, which arched giving Joel one of the most beautiful views. He didn't stop moving though.

"Where do you want me?" he asked. "Y/N? Tell me! Where?"

"Inside." you replied, opening your eyes and looking at him. "Pills. It's safe."

Three more thrusts and you saw Joel throw his head back, moaning loudly as he filled you to the brim, deeper than anyone had before. His chest was heaving rapidly, but when he looked at you, all you saw was delight.

He slowly pulled out of you.

"Wait a minute." he said, leaning down and kissing your hip.

He disappeared into the bathroom, but returned a moment later carrying a towel soaked in warm water. He dried you off carefully and lay down next to you.

"Jesus, I didn't expect that," he confessed.

"Me neither. Definitely not that." you replied.

"What now?"

This question wasn't just directed at you. You had the impression that Joel was also asking himself.

"What would you like to happen next?" you asked gently, stroking his face. His stubble tickled your hand pleasantly.

"I wouldn't want to ruin what we had." he replied "But I would like something more. With you. If you want it too."

“So maybe we should take it one step at a time?” you suggested. “I think that would be safest.”

"You think so?"

"Yeah. I'd love to invite you out for dinner or a drink. If you don't mind, of course."

"Oh! That's nice." he laughed, brought your hand to his lips and kissed the top. "And would you put on that slutty dress of yours. I really liked it."

"I think that can be arranged." Now you laughed too.

In the light of the dawning day, everything seemed easier for you. You were looking into the sweetest eyes in the world, you were feeling the heartbeat of a man who truly cared about you, and it was a truly wonderful feeling.

You were safe with him.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[kuiinncedes]

sorry glee nd no longer new directions but natural deduction <3

[spiderfunkz]

hi! i’d love to know abt your fav headcanon(s) for tasm!peter and maybe a little oneshot of said headcanon(s)?

peter parker falls in love HARDDDDD!! i love him and his nerdy ass like aaaaghhhhhh. he's so cutesy and skrunkly i just wanna throw a rock at him 💕

peter parker is the type of person to go head over heels when he likes someone!! the type of person to steal a glance every time you're not looking. the type of person to secretly hope he'd get partnered up with you during class. the type of person to practice in front of the mirror before finally talking to you.

he's the type of person to notice every little thing about you. the pins on your bag of your favorite artists? he can name five songs. your favorite flowers? he walks past the flower shop every morning, hoping to buy you some one day. the way you always have that one mood ring on your finger, he finds it adorable.

he goes so flustered whenever you catch him glancing at you. his face turns all red and he starts giggling actually, your probably the reason he skips to school everyday, hands in pockets, twirling around in pure joy and excitement.

he'll brag to his friends on how he talked to you when in reality it was him saying happy birthday and you replying with a thank you along with a smile that surely gave him a cavity.

to summarize it up. peter parker doesn't just like someone. he loves them. pure admiration, adoration, infatuation, smitten. you're the light in his heart, the butterfly in a field of wildflowers, the red tulip in a field of white tulips.

peter has liked you for a while now.

it was a long day of classes, he could've just skipped but aunt may found out he was doing that too much and got pretty mad. besides, it's just one more class. a class he never really had to try in. should be easy right?

yes, but no.

you just switched classes to biology. sitting in the only empty chair, just two chairs away from peter. he saw you, and that's when he knew.

you were never late, unlike peter. every time he comes in you're already there, smiling awkwardly at the situation as mrs. moore lectured him. but what's the point? peter wasn't listening, he was too busy figuring out what emotion was on your mood ring, and spoiler alert! it was love.

it took him a lot of convincing and reassurance from gwen, but he finally got the courage to talk to you. not about how the weather is, or the same old "did you do the _ assignment yet?". he was going to ask you out on a totally friends-only, platonic date ( that goes so well it will end up with you and him holding hands! ).

"hi!" peter smiled, his hand playing with his hair. "hey, peter." he seemed nervous, you were too.

"um, so, i was wondering if you.. would.." he looked everywhere but your eyes, "..that if we could, maybe, um.. hangout? together? if you want to. obviously, you don't have to but um-"

"no yeah, i would love to peter!" you smiled. was it hot? it felt hot, your face felt hot, does peter notice? he probably does.

peter's heart was racing through a field, it was winning first place. "okay, good- great! i could um. pick you up? i'll text you. you have my number right? i could just um- you know..." he played with the hem of his jacket.

you nodded, "yeah i do." — "okay, we could meetup somewhere.. maybe the park? is that boring? the cinema? anything you'd like, i'm fine with anything you know. or we could just.. hang.."

you smile, "sure."

"really?"

"yeah definitely, either one. or we could do all of them, i've got nothing to do." — "okay, that's super! super- cool.. super cool. i'll text you, is that okay?"

you nodded, "of course."

"okay, i um- i'll go now. i should go now. i'll see you? later?" peter asks.

"yeah okay!" you wave happily as he walks backwards towards the exit, nearly bumping into 2, no, 3 now, students.

"text me!" you yell out.

peter nodded eagerly.

he walks out, knowing gwen is not gonna hear the end of this.

[bgomtori]

☆ lover's rock - c.bg

synopsis - love wasn't something you believed in until you bumped into him while listening to your favourite band.

-> music major! beomgyu x art major! reader

-> love a first sight, college au!, artist x muse

-> warnings! slowburn, yn's dense, makeout session.

-> note! after i heard that beomgyu listens to cas, i screamed, my fav person and one of my fav bands :' also gyu day!! his birthday is literally 4 days before mine, i think it's fate 😂 jokes💀 hope you guys enjoy this :>

art, something that is enjoyed by many in various ways, through music, paintings or even poems. personally, you enjoyed art through your paintings, the ability to express yourself on a canvas with multiple hues of colours was fascinating to you, along with the soothing melody of music playing in the background. your mind wanders off as you immerse yourself in the current art project you had, your wrist moving slowly while you sketch on your prep board.

the library was quiet as usual, all types of students from different majors all gathered in one area to study or rush last minute work. you snapped yourself back into reality, aimlessly staring at the artpiece infront of you, your eyes feeling strained and dry, unable to keep itself open. that was your cue to pack up and leave, you stretched your aching body, slinging your bag over your shoulders as you left the library, placing your headphones over your ears, turning up the volume slowly, paying no attention to the surrounding area around you.

"ow, sorry." a voice sounded louder than what played in your headphones, you removed them, trying to be polite to the person you accidentally bumped into. "it's fine, i should have paid more attention to my surroundings." you bowed, before bending down to pick up your phone that was knocked away from your grasp.

"you listen to cigarettes after sex too?" you could hear the joy behind the male's voice, clearly thrilled to find out that a person listens to the same band as him. you nodded your head, "you like them too?"

"yea of course! i've been listening to them since they released their first album." he smiled, his eyes shimmering despite the dimly lit hallway you were standing in. "that's cool, what's your name? maybe we can talk more."

"beomgyu, choi beomgyu. how about you? i've seen you around the art building before." he replied, shooting the question back at you, "yn, hope to see you around next time." you smiled at him, wanting to leave already.

"wait, what's your number? you seem cool, i mean you are cool especially since you listen to cas. i just want to talk to someone like you." beomgyu stuttered, his face turned away from you as he held his phone towards you, displaying the contact list to you. you laughed softly, typing in your number, along with your name and an emoji.

"text me anytime, i'll try my best to reply." you waved, leaving a stranded beomgyu in the middle of a dark hallway, his eyes never leaving your disappearing figure. without even noticing, his lips tugged up into a smile, finally someone he could relate to, he could already feel the connection between the both of you. call him crazy, but he thinks that you would be best friends by the end of the semester.

and that dream became a reality. all starting from a text message from beomgyu, sending you a playlist he created of his favourite songs from all his favourite bands. something as little as a playlist warmed your heart, who would actually take the time and effort to create a playlist for a stranger they barely knew. and this was the starting point of your everlasting friendship. the way that he would often make his way to the art studio, despite his music studio being a 10 minutes away from it, he is willing to walk that distance for you, with your favourite drink in hand.

"you're class ended 15 minutes ago, how are you here so fast?" you opened the door for beomgyu, letting him into the art studio, locking it in the process. beomgyu stared at the current piece you were working in, completely awed by how pretty the artwork was.

"you're so good at this." ignoring your previous question, placing his bag down on the ground, taking a seat beside your canvas. you sighed, knowing beomgyu would never reveal the reason why he's always so quick to find you.

"have you listened to their latest single?" beomgyu asked, scrolling through his playlist, specifically made for music of his taste. you shook your head, "i didn't even know that they released a new song." beomgyu looked at you as if you grew another head.

"you're missing out, oh my god." beomgyu gasped, immediately playing the song, 'bubblegum.' by cas. a familiar yet different sounding melody filled your eardrums as you listened intently to the song beomgyu was showing you.

"it's nice." you found yourself humming to the lyrics, sketching on the canvas that was infront of you. "right, they never disappoint." beomgyu agreed, trying to find another song to add to the queue.

"gyu–" beomgyu looked up at the sound of his voice, his eyes blinking at you slowly, waiting for you to complete your sentence, "why, don't you talk to your other friends about music?" it has been a question on your mind ever since you've became friends with beomgyu, you've noticed how he doesn't talk much about his interest and taste in music to the guys compared to when he is with you.

"oh." his response was dry, making you think that you've said something hurtful.

"uhm, i didn't mean it, i guess it's slightly insensitive, forget that i asked that." you stammered, your face getting warm due to the embarrassment you were facing.

"you didn't say anything wrong, don't worry." he reassured, giving you a small smile.

"it's just that they don't share the same taste as me, so i can't really talk to them about my passion and interest in music. it's fine though! i've finally met you, so i'm alright with that." beomgyu admitted, his eyes practically glowing under the bright light in the art studio. your heart raced, butterflies filling your stomach, how cute could he be to make you feel like this. you've never believed that love was something for you, every single person you've liked has rejected you, clearly beomgyu wouldn't be any different.

"when is this due?" beomgyu questioned, his finger tapping on your canvas.

"in 2 weeks, why?" your head tilting in confusion as beomgyu's lips tugged into a mischievious smirk, "let's dip, you still have plenty of time to complete that."

"what? no. i need to–"

"no you don't, let's go to a vinyl shop, i know a place." beomgyu grabbed your hand, pulling you up from your seat. you screeched, telling him to wait, since your things were scattered around the studio. beomgyu chuckled, releasing your wrist, watching you frantically pack everything into your bag.

"i hate you." you grumbled, glaring at beomgyu while locking the door to your art studio. beomgyu laughed, his hand landing atop your head, stroking your hair, "quit grumbling, let's go."

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

"what took you so long?" you removed a side of your earbud, looking up at beomgyu who was staring at your with an apologetic look on his face. "i've not been to the campus's library in months, so i kinda got lost.." his eyes averting your gaze, cheeks warming up due to the embarrassment. you laughed at him softly, patting the seat beside you.

"do you always come to the library on your free time?" beomgyu whispered, placing his bag on the ground, grabbing his laptop at the same time. you nod your head, fingers quickly typing out the 5000 word essay that was due the following day. beomgyu frowned, noticing how you have yet to give him any attention from the moment he sat down beside you.

beomgyu sighed into the palm of his hand, pushing his chair closer to yours, your shoulders coming into contact with one another, knees brushing against each other's occassionally. you could feel beomgyu's eyes burning holes into your soul, causing you to turn to face him, unaware of how close you guys were. your eyes widened, along with his, your face about a centimeter away from his. lips barely touching, his hot breath fanning against your face, eyes boring into yours.

"sorry.." beomgyu coughed, turning away from you, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"it's fine." you choked out, still thinking about what just happened, unable to think straight, you hastily finished your essay, not caring on whether it was perfect or not, and switched your laptop off.

"let's go to the vinyl store, i need more vinyls." you packed your bags, trying your best not to look into beomgyu's eyes, knowing that you'll instantly malfunction under his gaze. however, just as you had that thought in mind, beomgyu grabbed onto your wrist, making you pause your actions.

"wait, i have something for you." beomgyu removed his grip from your wrist, pulling a small box from his bag, placing it in your hand.

"open it." he whispered, eyes looking at the box and back at you, excited for you to open up the surprise gift he bought for you. you untied the cute little ribbon on the box before lifting up the lid of the tiny box, only to see a cute bracelet staring back at you, the star-shaped charm gleaming prettily, it's colours so plain yet so charming.

"it's pretty." was all your said, but beomgyu has known you long enough to understand that you don't talk that much when you see something you like so much, but your express it through your body language and facial expression. he could see the way your eyes lit up, ane how your lips tugged up to a slight smile without noticing. beomgyu grinned, watching as you slipped the bracelet on your wrist.

"let's go?" you asked, snapping beomgyu out of his daze.

"yea sure." his hands grabbing onto yours, acting as if he doesnt care, but his mind was a hectic mess. he could see your clueless expression through his peripheral vision, doe eyes staring at his hand on yours. beomgyu swore that his heart was going to jump out any moment, his ears turning to a soft hue of read, you were definitely going to be the death of him.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

time flies whenever you're with beomgyu, without even realising it has already been months since your first interaction. by this time, you've finally grown accustomed to your growing feelings for the male, from his appearance to his passion in music, everything about him was perfect. even your friends caught on to your lovesick ways, also talking to beomgyu from time to time just to see if he was suitable for you, only for them to say that you're dense. you couldn't even believe soobin when he told you that beomgyu hasn't been like this around his past lovers, lies, was what you told soobin, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded, just to see soobin shaking his head, telling you that it's true.

every now and then, beomgyu would invite you over to his dorm if he's too lazy to go over to yours, and behind closed doors, blocking out the noise happening in the living room due to the boys loud yelling, the both of your just listened to your shared playlist in silence. it may not seem like much, but this activity calms you down, resting your head against the bed frame while beomgyu lays on his pillow, scrolling through his phone.

lovers rock, the song you recommended him since the start of your friendship. the sound of the electric guitar slowly fading into the quiet atmosphere, your fingers subconsciously tap against your phone to the beat, humming along with the melody.

"look at this tiktok, it reminds me of us." beomgyu chuckled, his arm extended to show you the cute tiktok on his phone. you took some time to process that he was trying to show you something before turning your head towards his phone, "oh my god, stop shaking." you grumbled, grabbing onto his phone, your hand laying on top of his.

the video contained two cats hugging each other as they had earbuds in their ear, listening to music, perfectly picturing the exact event happening right now. your stomach felt funny, biting your lips as you fought back the largest smile ever. "yea, that's us." you giggled, this feeling was euphoric, the way your smile is immediately reciprocated makes you feel like you've won a marathon, how this man has you completely wrapped around his finger...

beomgyu hummed, a hint of joy hidden behind his voice as he turned to his side to face the wall. your eyes flickered onto beomgyu's figure, your body slowly edging towards him unconsciously.

"hmm?" beomgyu sounded, feeling your head pressing against his back, you forcefully pushed his head away, preventing him to look at you, "i'm tired." you yawned, wrapping your arm around his waist loosely, growing more comfortable against his warmth. beomgyu could hear his own heartbeat, loud and clear, afraid that you could hear it too. your eyes fluttered close, on the verge of falling asleep.

"yn." beomgyu called, his body shifted around to face you, you looked up at him groggily, waiting for him to say something. beomgyu's mouth turned dry, completely forgetting the words that he wanted to tell you.

"ah, forget it, rest well." swallowing the lump in his throat, he watched as you nodded your head, falling back to sleep. he stared at the wall behind you in frustration, his mind only filled with thoughts of you, and how he was going to confess to you.

ever since he told his friends about his undying love for you, all they did was to push him into confessing because he'd be a pussy if he didn't, and to convince his friends that he isn't one, he has to tell you soon. currently, his phone was raided with a bunch of notifications from his group chat, all of them asking when he was going to tell you.

heeseung : stop pussying it, just say it.

beomgyu : it's not that simple 😐 and she's asleep right now

jeongin : you had all the time in the world to say it just now, and you wasted it.

beomgyu : ok shut up, maybe later.

"so fucking annoying.." he groaned softly, turning his phone off, staring off into the distance again.

"what's annoying?" you yawned a question, woken up by beomgyu's rapid typing and groans in annoyance from earlier. beomgyu looked at you in shock, praying that you didn't see any of the messages he exchanged with his friends.

"ah, nothing." beomgyu shrugged it off, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"yn, i have something to tell you." he suddenly sat up, causing you to flinch, "what is it?" following his actions.

"do you believe in love at first sight?" the sudden question about love caught you off guard, you played around with the bracelet beomgyu previoudly gave you, unable to come up with a response. your silence made beomgyu nervous, was it too random? he stared off to the side of his room.

"i didn't believe it at first, but i guess i think it's possible." you replied, the back of your neck feeling warmer by the second, afraid that you'd accidentally slip out a confession. beomgyu looked at you as if you grew two heads, he knew you weren't fond of love, and would much rather focus on your future art career. he was slightly curious, and extremely jealous of this person who managed to steal your heart.

"who?"

"who..?"

"who is this person that changed your mind." his tone sounding harsher than he intended to, maybe becausr he didn't want to lose you to any other guy who didn't deserve you. your throat was dry, it was to either tell him the truth or lie about your feelings for him. however, you didn't want to miss out on this opportunity, i mean what could be worse than getting rejected in his own dorm. you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, licking your lips,

"you."

"what?"

"it's you, ever since you bumped into me when i was making my way out of the library." you confessed, feeling yourself crumble, knowing that beomgyu is watching you intently. on the other hand, beomgyu didn't believe his ears, his mind going haywire at the thought that you liked him back, not even paying attention to your rambling.

"i don't know if this is the right time to confess, i mean i guess it was just the heat of the moment.. i'm sorry if i made you uncomf–" your eyes widened at the sudden contact on your lips, slowly blinking to register the situation that's happening. what felt like fireworks in your stomach, your eyes naturally closed, reciprocating the kiss, your hand placed on top of beomgyu's, slightly gripping onto it. beomgyu smiled into the kiss, his free hand landing on your waist, pulling you closer to him.

beomgyu pulled away, causing you to whine, wanting more. beomgyu couldn't help but giggle at how desperate you were.

"more.." you sighed out, wrapping your arms around beomgyu's neck, tilting your head as you connected your lips against his. his lips tasted like strawberries, his favourite fruit, and also the chapstick that he steals from your occassionally, he was perfect. you pulled away, catching your breath, placing your forehead against beomgyu's.

"guess we picked the best song to kiss to." beomgyu chuckled, you quirked your eyebrow, not understanding what he meant, until you heard what the lyrics meant. you giggled, nuzzling your head into beomgyu's neck.

"it's perfect."

she might wanna kiss

before the end of this song..

perm taglist! (send an ask to be added) @mrsyawnzzn @tinyelfperson @woncheecks @boba-beom @naveries @be-argyu @defnotleee

[engie-ivy]

(Because I wanted to write Dramatic Teen Remus😋)

@wolfstarmicrofic 8th: Teenagers

741 words

Lyall dealing with Dramatic Teen Remus

First and Last

“It's mustard!” Remus exclaims, dropping the tie on the floor and covering his face with his hands. “What was I thinking? I can't wear bloody mustard!”

His father calmly walks up to him, while picking up the tie from the floor. “It's not mustard,” he says patiently, as he puts the tie around his son’s neck and ties it for him. “It's ocre, and we picked it because it really brings out your eyes.”

Remus studies his reflection in the mirror for a moment, fiddling with the tie, and eventually, he releases a breath. “Okay. Yes. You're right.”

His father chuckles. “Aren't I always?”

Remus smiles to himself in the mirror. “Well, I do recall one moment…”

10 years earlier

Remus doesn't even bother to lift his head from the table when he hears the kitchen door open.

“Ah,” his father says. “You're home. I already thought I heard someone.”

By means of a reply, Remus lets out a groan.

“That kind of a night, eh?” His father says sympathetically as Remus hears him rummaging around the kitchen. “Looks like it was quite the party, but not in a good way. I take it James’ birthday was not what you had hoped? I'm sorry, lad. Do I dare ask what happened?”

Remus lifts his head and wants to tell his father to ‘please just leave him alone’, but his resolve crumbles when his father places a big mug of his favourite tea and a plate with his favourite cookies in front of him. As his father takes the chair in front him, Remus lets out a deep sigh. “Do I really need to say it? You already know, don't you?”

“Well,” his father says. “It looks like a Sirius issue to me.”

Remus glares at him, but his father juist gives him an innocent smile.

“He was chatting with her all evening,” Remus blurts out. “Laughing and dancing together. He didn't even notice I was there.” Remus shakes his head. “God, I'm so stupid.”

“You're not stupid, my boy. You're in love.”

Remus looks down at his mug. “I'm stupid for ever expecting anything different. Of course he'll never want me. I'm not pretty like she is, I'm not popular like she is, I'm not even a girl like she is!” Remus lets his head fall back on the table. “He's gonna live some perfect life with some perfect girl, while I'll stay lonely and pathetically pining for the rest of my life!”

“Well, at least you haven't been jumping to any dramatic conclusions,” his father says dryly, and Remus lifts his head to glare at him, but then his father reaches out and pats his hand. “I know these feelings are overwhelming right now, but I promise you it isn't all that bad.”

“How can you say that?” Remus complains. “I'm doomed to watch from afar forever, my life might as well be over!”

“You're fifteen years old, Remus,” his father says. “Your life has barely begun! And your love life hasn't even begun. Listen lad,” he squeezes Remus’ hand. “Sirius is your first crush, and I know that can feel intense and all-consuming, and right now, you think you're always going to feel like this, but believe me, you won't. These feelings will pass, and there'll be other boys, other men, and other heartbreaks, but when you eventually find the one that is meant for you, I promise it's all going to be worth it.”

Remus blinks against the tears burning in his eyes. “I just can't imagine ever loving anyone else but Sirius,” he says hoarsely.

His father gives him a soft smile. “I know. But you will. Believe me. Sirius is your first love, but he won't be your last.”

Present

“Okay, okay,” his father says, immediately knowing what moment Remus is talking about. “I'll admit I haven't always been right!” Then he adds in a softer voice “You do know I'm very happy to be proven wrong, don't you?”

Remus meets his eyes in the mirror and smiles. “I know.”

His father smiles back. “Good. Your mother and I are both very fond of Sirius, and it's about time you made him an official part of the family!”

Remus turns around to his father with a grin, holding out his arm. “Does that mean you're ready to give me away?”

“Never,” his father replies instantly, but then his smile returns. “But for Sirius, I will try.”

[yelenasdiary]

Subby!Wanda being all shy and nervous about having sex with you for the first time after having the boys because she thinks she isn't pretty with the extra weight, but you love every bit of her and shower her in compliments and praise until she's a mess beneath you repeating the compliments back about herself.

Pretty Little Mess

Pairing:  Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Summary:  Wanda opens up about her recent stresses

Smut, Fluff & Tiny Angst. 18+ ONLY! Minors & Men, DNI!!

Warnings: Sub! Wanda, Dom! Reader, Use of Strap On (W Receiving), Oral (W Receiving), Mentions of Body Image Insecurities | 1.2K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I am so sorry for the delay in posting this, I hope you enjoy this soft smutty fic! X

Cupid's Dream Masterlist

"Honey, are you ready?" You called out after closing the front door. You'd just dropped the twins off at Clint's house for the night. It was the first date night in months, with the twin's first birthday coming up in a little over a month, you were able to convince Wanda that the boys would be okay a night away from their parents so the two of you could enjoy a little with each other. This night had been circled on the calendar for weeks and you'd made reservations at Wanda's favorite restaurant. 

You wandered upstairs when Wanda didn't reply to your call out, she'd basically locked herself in the bedroom all afternoon trying on outfits. You knocked softly on the door, "Baby, you in there?" You asked. Wanda opened the door with slightly red and puffy eyes, you frowned with worry. 

"Wands, are you okay? What is it honey?" you asked. She shook her head, "it's nothing, I'll be down in a few minutes" She tried her best to give you a smile, but you could see something was troubling her. 

"We're not going anywhere until you talk to me love" you replied, making your way into the bedroom. It was a mess; clothes were thrown everywhere, and her side of the wardrobe was practically empty. One thing Wanda admired most about you was the way you always put her and the boys above anything. She knew you'd been excited for date night since the moment she agreed to let the boys stay at the Barton's for the night and the last thing she wanted to do was ruin that for you. 

"It's nothing" Wanda assured you as she picked up a deep red dress from the floor. You gently stopped her from taking any further steps away from you, cupping her right cheek. "Honey, if you're worried about the boys, I promise you they will be fine. We can give Clint a call when we get home" you said, trying to assure her of her worries. Wanda smiled softly, "it's not that my love" she replied. 

"What is it?" You asked. 

Wanda stepped back and took a seat on the edge of the bed, her hands in her lap while her head hung low. "We're going to go dinner and have a wonderful time and then we're going to come home and things will get heated and I'm just worried th-" she paused as tears filled her eyes. You kneeled down in front of her, gently lifting her head up to wipe her tears, "it's okay love, I'm listening" you assured her. 

Wanda took a moment to gather her emotions, "I'm worried you won't find me as attractive as you did before we had the boys" she confessed, "I've put on a bit of extra weight, I have stretch marks and I just don-"

You cut her off by kissing her deeply, looking her in her big green eyes as you pulled away, "don't you ever think even for a second that I don't find you attractive. Wands, you've never looked more beautiful and I'm not just saying that. You gave birth to our beautiful boys, and I love everything about you" you spoke before kissing her once more, "and I am going to spend the night showing you exactly what I love about you" you added.

----

Your tongue swirled around Wanda's clit while your hands ran up and down between her inner thighs, her soft moans grew more and more the closer she got to her orgasm only for you to pull back at the last possible second. 

"Baby! Please stop teasing me" Wanda whimpered as you ran your fingers through her wet folds. "You know what to say darling" you replied as you looked up at her, the tip of your index finger ever so slightly brushing over her clit. You kissed up her body, slowly, making sure to kiss every single stretch mark on her stomach and hips, "until you see just how beautiful and sexy you are, you're not cumming darling" you said between kisses. 

Wanda moaned softly when she felt the tip of your strap brush against her pussy, your lips traveling further up her body until you reached her lips. Wanda cupped your face as you slowly grinded your strap against her to tease her even more, "say it baby, tell me how beautiful you are" you whispered before kissing her deeply once more. 

"I'm" Wanda started as your lips moved to her neck once again, sucking lightly as her hands roamed your naked back. "I'm…beautiful" she finally repeated back to you. A proud smile tugged at your lips before you gently pulled back to look at your wife once again, "say it again" you said while you lined your fake cock up with her throbbing pussy. 

Wanda couldn't help the redness that grew in her cheeks as she laid beneath you, "I'm beautiful" she repeated. 

"And what?" You asked, slowly pushing your strap inside her. 

"A-and strong" she moaned as you stretched her out. "Keep going darling, you're doing so well for me baby" you replied. 

You waited for Wanda to adjust to your new strap and size before you began to thrust into her. Every time she complimented herself you would thrust deeper, her moans got louder causing her to stutter her words. Her fists were full of the bed sheet, gripping them tightly as you thrusted in and out of her, your lips made sure to cover her with light hickies while she struggled to word each compliment. 

"You're doing so well for me angel, look at you!" You pulled back to watch her new favorite toy sliding effortlessly in and out of her soaked pussy, "you're taking me so fucking well darling. My beautiful will little toy" you praised her before bringing your thumb to rub tight circles around her clit. 

'G'nna cum, p-please!" Wanda moaned as she watched the actions of your thumb. 

"Yeah? Promise me you're never going to forgot how beautiful you are" you looked at her, thrusting a little deeper. 

"I p-pr-promise!" Wanda moaned once more, throwing her head back, "p-please baby!" She added. 

"Go on beautiful, make a pretty little mess for me" you replied as you leant down, taking one of her nipples into your mouth as she came. Your name leaving her lips as her orgasm took over her body never got old. You fucked her slowly through her high, her legs wrapped around your waist to keep you in place while your lips began to travel back to her lips before you kissed her deeply. 

"I mean it darling, you're so, so beautiful! Inside and out and I promise to make sure you never forget that, even for a second" you spoke softly after you pulled out of her and laid beside her, pulling her close as you wrapped your arms around her. Wanda sunk into your hold; light tears filled her eyes. 

"I love you so much my love" she replied as she brought the back of your hand to her lips, giving your bare skin a peck. 

"I love you more than you will know" you whispered back.

Taglist:  @boredandneedfanfics | @music-4ever | @karmasgxrl | @milkeeteaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @swaqcenix | @mostlymarvelsstuff | @scarlettbitchx | @mallyka-blog | @itsalwaysskorpioszn | @caporal-nino | @natashamaximoff-69 | @evilcr0ne | 

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

[verycoolusername1]

Angel Boy

Summary: In which Luke gets a partner to call his own, making him your angel boy.

Social Media AU(fc is Olivia Rodrigo) - Luke Hughes x Singer!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning: hate comments(they get cleared tho ofc), swearing,

A/N: I love Luke, and I love Olivia(and Louis, loved him since Enola Holmes). And yes, I did make a cameo in this fic cause why not??

And I made y/n friends with artists I like so enjoy their cameos too. And the podcast I wrote in here is not real(I wish it was) and James does not exist either, Amelia and James are lovely tho I have you know

And for the sake of this fic imagine that Louis is Luke in the photos that goes along with this please!

Also... IT'S LUKE BIRTHDAY SO YOU KNOW I HAD TO DO SOMETHING

Yourusername just posted!

Liked by conangray, verycoolusername1, and 12,854,876 others...

Yourusername: Life lately

Tagged: conangray

Comments

Conangray: Are those my glasses??

Yourusername: @/conangray I have no idea what you mean 😁

Username1: AHHH Y/N REMEMBERED THEIR PASSWORD GUYS!!

Username2: WE WANT NEW MUSICCCC

Username3: Y/N AND CONAN'S FRIENDSHIP>>>>

Tatemcrae: my favorite girl <3

Yourusername: @/tatemcrae my favorite gal <3

Username4: WE GOT TATE AND Y/N CONTENT BEFORE GTA 6 😭 (liked by yourusername)

Username5: Y/n looking as wonderful as ever!!

Laufey: missing you more than ever now 😞

Yourusername: @/laufey I'll visit you soon promise!

Billieeilish: AHHHHH WHY ARE YOU SO HOT 🔥 🥵 😍 😫 😩 😳

Yourusername: @/billieeilish: YOU THINK I'M HOT?? 😍

View more...

In real life

"Hello everyone, and welcome back to My Life is a mess podcast, I am your host, Amelia. And today we have a special guest. We have the lovely and talented Y/N Y/L/N." Amelia introduced.

"Hi guys." You spoke into the microphone.

"I wanted to be the first to say welcome back to the podcast. I missed you tons!" Amelia told you.

"I missed you too." You smiled at her. "It's great to be back."

"So, Y/N, I heard that you're a hockey fan, and you're a fan of the New Jersey Devils. And you know I was just wondering who your favorite player was." Amelia wondered.

"Favorite player? Oh gosh!" You chuckled. "Uh, I would have to say um number forty-three, Luke Hughes. We're close in age, and he's good, really good. I think if I ever met him, I would embarrass myself."

Amelia laughed at your words. "You embarrass yourself? There's no way!"

You shook your head as you laughed. "Anyways, yeah, Luke Hughes is my favorite, and all his haters can just leave at this point."

"I have never heard more truer words." Amelia agreed. "Is there anything you wanna say to Luke if he's listening or watching this?"

You scratched your neck as you came up with a reply. "Uh, hm, I'm single? And I would love to write a song about you if I'm given the chance. A happy song not sad, I could never do that."

"Why did that come out as a question?" Amelia busted out into laughter. "Oh and yeah I'm single? I think."

You joined her in the laugher. "I didn't know what to say!"

3 days later...

Luke was just about to get on the ice before he was stopped to do a tiktok.

James, the interviewer looked at him. "What music do you listen to in your spare time?"

"Oh uh recently I've been listening to uh Y/N Y/L/N." Luke answers.

"Y/N Y/L/N? now that is definitely a shocker coming from you." James eyes widened in shock.

"I mean what can I say? Their voice is soothing and just perfect in contrast to what their lyrics are in their songs." Luke chuckles.

"How do you feel if they wrote a song about you?" James asked.

"Uh I would definitely feel great if it wasn't a sad song, can't be crying to a sad song about me you know." Luke shrugged.

"Yeah I see what you mean." James agreed. "Now get on the ice, you're done with this today."

Comments

Username6: Luke listening to Y/N Y/L/N is definitely a shocker from my little country boy

Username13: @/username6 little?? THAT MAN IS HUGE

Username7: Pushing the Luke and Y/N agenda to a 100

Username8: Hey so um this is actually crazy!

Username9: ONLY THREE DAYS AFTER THE PODCAST HE'S LIKE RETURNING THE FAVOR

Username10: If they don't date I'm gonna riot

Username11: Y/N changed him and they haven't even met yet 😭

Username12: Luke Hughes turning into a pop girlie was not on my 2024 bingo card

Username14: @/username12 I don't think it was on anyone's 😭

Username15: Y/N is gonna freak when they see this

Username16: @/username15 oh for sure lmaooo

2 months later...

Gossippage101 just posted!

Liked by ynfan101, thatshouldbeme, and 145,763 others...

Gossippage101: Singer Y/N seen out recently with their mysterious man... could we see a love album come out of this?? 👀👀👀

Comments

Username17: dare I say that's Luke Hughes?

Username18: @/username17 WAIT NO YOU MIGHT BE ON TO SOMETHING

Username19: @/username17 FROM THE PODCAST TO THE INTERVIEW THIS CANNOT JUST BE A ONE TIME THING

Username20: Already with a new man? Haven't even been a year. 😒

Username21: @/username20 Yeah, and Luke hughes? He stooped so low. He could do so SO much better.

Username22: they seem like a weird fit but if they're both happy then...

Username23: @/username22 who cares if they're happy yn is going to break Luke's heart and make him the villain like they always do with their albums

Username24: @/username23 I know damn well you ain't talking, Y/N doesn't sing about their exes all the time so just shut your mouth cause you'll never be as successful as them or Luke for that matter

Username25: @/username24 WHAT'S THE SQUARE ROOT OF 64 CAUSE YOU ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBSSS

username24: @/username25 thanks queen <3

7 months later...

Yourusername just posted!

Liked by: lhughes_06, junialin, and 11,478,952 others...

Yourusername: Game day!!

Comments

Tatemcrae: FIRSTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Yourusername: @/tatemcrae you were literally here with me you hockey nerd

Username26: IS ANYONE GONNA TALK ABOUT LUKE HUGHES BEING IN THE LIKES?!???

Username27: @/username26 OR HOW THE HUGHES BROTHERS FOLLOW THEM NOW

Username28: it's y/n's world we're just living in it

Username29: MORE YN AND TATE CONTENT!!

Username30: I absolutely live for their friendship

Trevorzegras: the devils<<<<the ducks

Yourusername: @/trevorzegras I hate you

Username31: Y/N AND TATE CONTENT Y/N AND TATE CONTENTTTTTT

Two weeks later...

lhughes_06 just posted!

Liked by: yourusername, _quinnhughes, and 564,437 others...

lhughes_06: What's nine plus ten? 21 😝

Comments

Yourusername: Welcome to the club, angel boy!!!! ❤️🖤 (liked by lhughes_06)

Verycoolusername1: Ik luke would never say this but I saw the opportunity and took it

Jackhughes: He's growing up 🥲

lhughes_06: @/jackhughes Can't stop, won't stop 🙂

Nicohischier: happy birthday :] (liked by lhughes_06)

Trevorzegras: well someone's getting old 🤣

Lhughes_06: @/trevorzegras Haha.

Edwards.73: Welcome to the club! (Liked by lhughes_06)

lhughes_06: @/edwards.73 we need to hang out soon!!

Comments on this post are limited.

3 months later...

Yourusername posted on their story!

Vera - To be continued???

[mcu-coworkers]

Jealousy

Summary: Miguel can't seem to get his way and for reasons he couldn't believe.

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: None(sneaky Miguel)

A/n: here is pt.3 I hope you guys enjoy I will be giving a pt.4 which will be the final part if anyone would like to be tagged just let me know and I'll be happy to! I hope I got every one who wanted to be tagged in Pt.3 there were so many of you and I just want to sat thank you from the bottom of my heart for loving my story! I hope you guys enjoy!xx

Tags list: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @m4zapan @luciiferian @stinygirl009 @anonymoussomebody345 @watamoteru @smolrain08 @amberpanda99 @hantheconqueror @mhm-ok-sure @chuckle-nuts. @a-helpless-romantic @witchofwhimsey @rin-matsuoka345-blog @cherripunch26 @anneliese500 @theleftkittycollection @ok-boke @nanushkka @gugggu6gvai @joestarbitch @distractionforyourthoughts @tanchosanke @lokiseason @hao-ming-8 @sport-lova @munixumai @capybaraaa . @dearrdarlingg @riddle-me-im-sirius @melovetitties @liyanahelena @bat1212 @christinesdemoness1958 @musicpookie @luujjvi @ilovejeansosomuch @m0chac0ffee @perrierbottleofproblems @zayxcc @shyshyshy-19 @futuristicpandakid @lilyevans1

Parts: One Two Three^ Four

Credits to the owner:)^

It had been quite a few months since you removed yourself from the spider society.

You thought that in doing so you lost your friends but Pete, Hobbie, and Gwen all stuck by your side and visited you every now and then.

Not all at once, you didn't want Miguel to figure out that they were coming to you and yell at them for it or worse, come too.

In that aspect everything was great.

When it came to your healing journey, you had good days and bad days.

Or more like bad nights.

During the day you kept busy working in your world's Alchemax, and at night you dealt with spider business which was slow this time around.

This is when you found yourself thinking about him.

The silence of the city only made your thoughts louder and all they reminded you of was Miguel.

But you hadn't given up on your promise to yourself, you would move on.

And then you decided to get a dog.

He was the best choice you could have made, your sweet little milo.

May Day absolutely loved him, she wanted to bring him to her birthday party but to be honest you didn't even know if you’d be taking yourself.

Pete didn't want to hide anything from you so he told you as soon as he found out that Miguel actually agreed to not just let him throw her party at HQ but go to it as well.

Risking him speaking to you and ruining all of your growth was not in your plans.

You had to be honest with yourself, if Miguel spoke to you with the slightest warth you knew you’d break so for your own sake staying away from him was best.

So, that's where you were with all of this, sitting on a rooftop enjoying a slice of pizza thinking about whether you should show up tomorrow or not.

Deciding to call it a night on saving the city you swung home looking forward to Milo’s greeting cuddles.

Back at HQ Miguel watched as everyone scurried to put together the decorations for May Day's birthday.

The chaos was loud and he almost regretted agreeing to it.

“Ay dios.” he mumbled as he walked past Gwen and Hobbie pretending they were there.

“So you think she’ll come? May Day is her favorite spider. She wouldn't miss it, right?” he heard Gwen say.

Suddenly he froze.

“There is a chance if you ask me.  I   believe in her.” Hobbie replied webbing up the sign he was putting on the wall, much easier than tape.

Miguel began walking again hoping no one would notice how he stopped to listen in on the conversation.

Walking into his office space he called for Lyla, “Give me the list of spiders coming to this party.” he said pulling up his screens.

“But boss, that's hundreds?” she asked confused but the request.

“That's fine, just give it to me, Please.” he asked, growing impatient with his AI.

“Alright calm down here it is, Who are we looking for anyways?” she said, sliding it over to him.

“No one, just making sure its a safe list.” he said looking over his shoulder.

Bles mary janes heart for added the yes, no and maybe option it made him easier to see who was actually coming.

All the names had a yes except for one, one big red MAYBE and it was next to yours.

Shoulders dropping in slight disappointment he let out a sigh.

These past months he’d been gloomy.

The only time he perked up was at the mention of your name, but sadly that's as close he got to you these days.

He found out that Pete, Hobbie, Gwen and even fucking Miles anomaly Morales snuck off to see you.

He was jealous.

He hated that you let them into your life.

Each time they came back laughing about something you said, he was jealous.

Everytime they mentioned a fun moment you shared, he was burning in jealousy.

It made him sick. 

His blood boiled knowing someone else was making you laugh when he just wanted to have you to himself.

He liked it when you spent hours in his office “helping him” with reports.

He only ever gave you simple tasks just to keep you at his side.

To watch your face when you were focused on the footage, the way you bite your lip when you think you're getting close. 

The way you kept eye contact and showed interest in whatever it was he said made him think about other things you could do together whilst keeping eye contact.

God, you drove him insane in the best way.

But not having you close like that was driving him insane in the worst way.

Spiders voluntarily left him alone now not wanting to cross him on a bad which now was very frequent.

The only reason he stuck around at the end of team briefings was to see if he’d hear any news on you.

He didn't think anyone noticed his intent, But then there was Jess always on his six.

She knew from day one that you had fallen, but oh was he gonna fall harder and he did.

She saw the way he searched for you in a room, how he’d ask you and only you to help him on reports.

Nothing went past her.

“Did a villain sneak onto the list?” she said, creeping up behind him.

Quickly removing the screen he looked over his shoulder letting out a simple shrug to answer her.

“Just want to see who   I‘ll be dealing with for the evening.” he said trying to cover up his annoyance.

“Anyone stand out?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope. All good.” he said standing up, “  I‘ll see you tomorrow Jess, get some rest.” he said leaving his office.

Smiling to herself, Jess knew he was slowly breaking down. 

All it would take to finish the job was see you.

She knew you had RSVP’d to come yesterday but she made Lyla change it just to confirm her suspicions further.

And he did just that.

----

Mentally preparing yourself for today was the hardest part.

You planned out your evening.

Go in, greet everyone, stick to Hobbie, Gwen and Miles, hold May Day, and then make the excuse that Milo had an accident and you had to get back home.

A solid plan.

Suddenly a portal opened and in walked Hobbie, “My lady.” he greeted extending an arm.

Taking his hand you stood up, “Oh, one sec.” you said as you sent a signal activating your suit.

“Woaahhh the new suit is wicked.” he said watching it go on.

“It's nano tech, you like it?” you said as it reached up to your neck before stopping. 

“Killin it, as always.” he said before walking into the portal.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Be good Milo, Mommy will be home soon.” you said, patting his sleepy head before walking in.

Deep breath, here goes nothing.

Walking in you put on your brightest smile.

“Hey! There she is and get a look at this suit, this new?  I   like it!” Peter yelled, taking your hand and spinning you.

“Hey guys! Nice to see everyone again, Miles nice to meet you.” you said laughing.

“Nice to meet you, very nice lady, thank you for not hunting me down.” he said, shaking your hand viciously.

Laughing at your inside joke you pulled him in for a hug secretly taking a peak over his shoulder.

You could feel his stare on you, you just didn't know from where.

The party went on as planned, you stayed cautious, had  a good time with your friends and held May Day until she eventually fell asleep.

Everyone told you that you had a gentle way when it came to kids so falling asleep just came to them naturally.

Taking that as your sign to leave you handed her over to Mary Jane and went to go look for Hobbie.

“Hey, has anyone seen Hobbie?” you asked not being able to find him.

“Rooftop, girly pop.” you heard Jess say as she hugged you goodbye.

“Oh great, we can open a portal there. Bye guys guess  I‘ll  see you around.” you said waving to the rest of the spiders.

Making your way up you looked around the rooftop to find it empty.

Huh. Maybe he went for a swing. You thought looking over the city.

He’d been told a couple times not to but that only made him do it more.

“He’s not here.” you heard behind you. Well shit.

“Thanks Jess.” you heard making you chuckle to yourself.

Of course.

“Well then it makes no use to stay up here.” you said turning to walk away.

“Wait, just give me a second.” he said, reaching out for you.

“One. Welp there is it and look I've given you five extra just by standing here.” you said sarcastically.

Trying to leave once more he actually Physically got in your way this time.

“Please.” he said trying to get you to look at him and you could've sworn you heard sincerity in there.

“Fine. talk.” you said crossing you arms sitting on the ledge trying to create some distance.

“ I   am sorry,” he blurted out.

“ I   don't forgive you. We done here? Great.” you said standing up ready to bee line it for the door.

Your tactics were failing you and your front could only last for so long.

“No no wait just-” he was cut off  by a beeping sound coming from your suit.

It was your alarm for Milo’s dinner time.

Gasping you stood up from where you sat.

“Oh Milo.” you said turning off the alarm.

“What? Who the fuck is Milo?” he said anger began to rise up in his chest.

“Really wish we could finish this but  I‘m late to a very important dinner with someone who does respect me, so excuse me.” you said finally getting past him.

Stunned  by your response he watched you walk past him.

Who in the actual fuck was Milo and what rights did he have over you?

Following you back into the party he watched as you asked Pete to get you back home.

“Oh yeah sure, How's Milo by the way?” he asked while opening the portal.

Again with this fucking Milo.

“Oh he's really great, miss him more every second we're apart.” you said, putting your hands on your hips.

Time was moving real slow right about now.

But for Miguel it was moving a little too fast, he didn't want you to get back to Milo. 

He wanted you here, patching things up with him.

“Gotta love Milo am  I   right? May Day sure does.” he said, quickly shutting up when he realized Miguel was still there.

“Well thanks for the portal, tell Mj the party was great, take care pete.” you said hugging him goodbye.

Just as you are about to be free Miguel grabs your hand.

“Will you come back, Please?” he asked, the desperation in his voice could be heard from miles away.

“ I   don't think so Miguel,  it took me a while to realize that there was nothing wrong with me. And Milo helped with that even if it's just been a couple of months and  I‘m still getting the hang of things. He loves me for it and he needs me.” you said, smiling at the thought of your sweet little furbaby.

Standing up straight Miguel let your arm go, “Lucky Milo.” was all he said before you took it as your queue to leave.

Defeated by the night's outcome he went back into his office and let out some frustration on the nearest machine.

There it was again, feeling sick of jealousy.

Someone else had your attention, time and love.

And all he had was your rejection.

At this point in time Miguel wished he was anybody else other than himself.

And just like that jealousy started following him wherever he went, never letting him go.

All because of some Milo.

[lvnleah]

012. | Welcome to the world

word count: 2.6k

find the masterlist here!

a very emotional and long one so grab some snacks and strap in :)

listen to this while reading ;)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

March 29th 2024 | 39 weeks + 1 day pregnant.

It’s March 29th, one of your favourite days of the year because you get to celebrate the woman you love the most for a whole day and she can’t say anything about it.

This year looks very different from how all of the other ones have been. Leah’s birthday had always been a big thing, she’d always had a big party with all of her family and friends and you’d both always taken it as a chance to get absolutely wasted.

However, this year was going to be a much calmer one with no party. You were currently thirty-nine weeks pregnant, meaning that your baby boy could arrive at any time. Leah was hoping her birthday would be the day although you weren’t sure it was.

Leah pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder as she rubbed circles on your swollen stomach, “Can you imagine what next year is going to look like!” She laughed.

You laughed softly, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness flutter in your stomach. "Yeah, we'll have a little one running around, trying to steal all your birthday cake,"

“He can have however much he wants,” She grinned, “Cake is the best thing ever.”

You shifted slightly, trying to get out of bed, but Leah quickly placed a gentle hand on your arm, stopping you.

"And where do you think you're going?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm making you breakfast," you said, "It's your birthday, and you deserve a special start to the day so I’m going to make you breakfast like I do every year.”

Leah chuckled and shook her head. "Absolutely not. You’re heavily pregnant, and the last thing you need to be doing is running around the kitchen. Besides, I'm perfectly capable of making us breakfast."

"But it's your day," you protested, a pout forming on your lips.

"And it includes making sure you and our baby are comfortable," Leah said, her tone gentle but firm. She leaned in and kissed your forehead. "Stay here and relax. I'll make us something delicious, I promise.”

You sighed. "Fine," you gave in, "I just wanted to spoil you!”

"You carrying our son is more than enough," Leah said with a laugh as she got out of bed. She headed to the kitchen, and you could hear the familiar sounds of her starting to cook.

You laid back against the pillows, rubbing your belly in slow, soothing circles. A tightening feeling wrapped around your lower back and stomach, making you wince in response. You blew it off as just being braxton hicks and soon enough they passed.

"Babe! Do you want pancakes or waffles?" Leah shouted from the kitchen.

"Pancakes," you answered without hesitation. "With strawberries and whipped cream."

"Coming right up!" she replied.

The smell of pancakes spread through the apartment. As you relaxed on the bed, you found yourself daydreaming about the future. The thought of your little boy's first birthday parties, his first steps, and all the special moments that awaited filled you with excitement.

After a short while, Leah reappeared with a breakfast tray, a proud grin on her face. She carefully set the tray on the bed and sat down beside you.

"Breakfast is served," she announced with a flourish, presenting the pancakes topped with fresh strawberries and a generous dollop of whipped cream.

“Ohh this looks great!” You said, taking your plate from her, “Thank you, love.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to Leah’s cheek. “What’re the plans for today?”

Leah took a bite of her pancake, humming in perfection before speaking, “Well I’ve got training from eleven till half three and I was thinking I’ll come back here and we can chill for a bit and then head to dinner with my family?”

You nodded in agreement, “That sounds good. I’ll probably nap while you’re at training so I get some rest.”

As you took a bite from your pancake another sharp pain spread around your stomach and back. You dropped your fork on the plate and clutched your stomach as your face screwed up.

“Pretty girl, are you okay?” Leah asked you, her eyes widened in concern.

You nodded and hummed as the pain began to pass over, “Mhm! Just a…braxton hick.”

Leah looked at you, her eyebrows raised, “Are you sure?”

“Yes Leah,” you laughed, “I know you want him to come on your birthday but I don’t think he is, love. I think I’m going to go overdue!”

You were completely convinced you were going overdue and that your baby boy wasn’t going to be here until after April 4th. You had everything ready and his nursery was perfect, it was now just a waiting game.

Leah fake pouted, “I just wanted him to come today! I know it’s crazy but I don’t know why I want him to come today but I know he’ll come whenever he’s ready.”

She reached over and grabbed her phone, “I need to get ready for training.”

Leah slipped out of bed and placed a kiss on your forehead, leaving you to finish your pancakes. She quickly showered before changing into her training kit and coming to say goodbye to you.

“I’ll be back before you know it but I’ll keep my phone beside me okay?” She said, leaning over and kissing your lips.

You nodded, “Okay but I still don’t think anything’s going to happen, Le.”

She giggled at you, winking, “You never know! You never know, pretty girl!”

After Leah left for training, you settled onto the couch with a cosy blanket and turned on a movie. You found yourself drifting in and out of sleep, the occasional Braxton Hicks contractions making you pause and take a deep breath.

You tried to take a nap but the pain was stopping you. For a moment you thought it was time but you then convinced yourself not to be so ridiculous, your baby wouldn’t be coming today.

Eventually, you gave up on sleeping and headed into the kitchen to grab yourself a glass of water. You poured the cold water into a glass and took a gentle sip.

Another pain struck your stomach, making you grab the counter. This time, however, you knew it wasn’t a false contraction because a trickle of water soon followed after it.

You froze, staring at the water trickling down your leg. Your heart raced as you realised what might be happening. Taking a deep breath, you quickly grabbed your phone and called Leah.

"Hey, pretty," Leah answered, her voice upbeat as she spoke over the gym music. "Everything okay?"

"Le," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, "I think my water just broke."

There was a brief pause on the other end before Leah's voice became urgent. "Are you sure? Is it happening now? Are you in pain?"

"No, it's happening next week! Yes, I'm sure. And yes, I’m having contractions too. They're coming a bit more regularly now."

Leah’s response was immediate, her voice full of concern and excitement. "Okay, I’m on my way. Stay calm. I’ll be there as fast as I can. Try to time your contractions if you can. Umm, I’m going to phone my mum to come and stay with you till I get there.”

You nodded even though she couldn't see you. "I will. See you soon.”

Hanging up, you took a few moments to breathe. The contractions were becoming more intense and closer together. You focused on your breathing, just like you’d practised.

As you paced around the kitchen, the reality of the situation settled in. You felt a mix of excitement and nerves. You knew your baby was coming soon, and you couldn't wait to meet him.

A few minutes later, your phone rang again. It was Amanda. "Hi, sweetheart," she said, her voice calm and reassuring. "Leah called me. I'm on my way. Just hang tight, okay?"

"Okay," you replied. "Thank you."

As you continued to time your contractions, you tried to keep yourself as calm and focused as possible. The minutes felt like hours as you waited for Leah and Amanda to arrive. You leaned against the counter, breathing through another contraction, when you heard the front door open.

Amanda rushed in, dropping her things at the door before rushing over to you. "How are you doing, love?" she asked, placing a gentle hand on your back.

"Better now that you're here," you said with a strained smile. "The contractions are getting closer together. Fuck these are painful!”

"Good, that means we're getting closer to meeting your little one," she said with a warm smile. "Let's get you comfortable and then we'll head to the hospital when Leah gets here yeah?”

As Amanda helped you gather your things and get ready, you felt a sense of relief knowing she was there to support you. Just as you sat down on the sofa, Leah bursted through, slightly out of breath but with a huge smile on her face.

"I'm here, I'm here!" she exclaimed, rushing over to you. "How are you doing, pretty girl?"

A wave of tears bubbled up when you saw Leah's face. "Better now that you're here, what time is it?”

"Just gone three! Let's get you to the hospital," Leah said, taking your hand. "Finley’s eager to meet us and share a birthday with his Mumma!”

With Leah and Amanda by your side, you made your way to the hospital. The ride there felt like a blur, the contractions growing stronger and more frequent. Leah held your hand the entire time, whispering words of encouragement as Amanda drove.

Once you arrived at the hospital, a nurse checked you in and soon enough, you were settled in and being monitored. Your midwife checked you and you were already at five centimetres. You tried to bounce on the yoga ball but the contractions grew too much and you ended up caving for the epidural which soon relieved the pain.

“Okay, you’re six centimetres dilated,” your midwife told you with a smile as she slipped her gloves off and put them in the bin, “Another four and your baby boy will be here!”

Your labour seemed to progress slowly. By seven o’clock you were only at seven centimetres and your body was growing tired despite having the epidural.

Around half seven, Amanda left to grab some dinner and Beth came up with Viv to come and see you.

Viv, carrying a bouquet of flowers and a soft teddy bear, walked over and hugged you gently. "Hey, how are you holding up?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern and excitement.

You managed a tired smile. "It's been a long day, but I'm getting there. The epidural helped a lot."

Beth squeezed your hand. "You're doing amazing. Just think, in a few hours, you'll have Finley in your arms."

Viv placed the teddy bear on the bed next to you and sat down. "He’s eager to be born on your birthday eh? He listens to you then, Leah."

She laughed, “Yeah he did but I don’t know if he’ll come before midnight now, Y/N’s only seven centimetres.”

The conversation with Beth and Viv helped to pass the time and distract you from the discomfort. They told you about how chaotic Leah was when you phoned and how everyone did hardly any training afterwards because they were so excited.

By eight o’clock, Amanda returned with a warm meal and a hot chocolate for Leah and Beth and Viv left. She updated everyone on your progress, and the midwife popped in to check on you again.

"You're at eight centimetres now," she said encouragingly. "We're getting close."

The anticipation grew, and with every passing minute, you felt more ready and more eager to meet your baby boy. Amanda left and gave you and Leah some time by yourself.

As the clock neared nine, the midwife returned with another update. "You're almost there. Nine centimetres. Just a little longer."

Your body ached with exhaustion and your hands shook uncontrollably, but the excitement of finally meeting Finley kept you going.

"You're so close now," Leah said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. "You've got this."

Around eleven o'clock, the midwife made one final check and smiled widely. "It's time. You're fully dilated. Are you ready to meet your baby?"

“Maybe he will be born on your birthday,” you smiled up at Leah as she kissed your temple.

Leah smiled back, her eyes brimming with tears. "Maybe," she whispered, "but it doesn't matter when he arrives. I just can't wait to see him."

With Leah by your side, the midwife and nurses guided you through the process. You gripped Leah’s hand tightly before starting to push.

Each push brought you closer to meeting your son. After nine months, your baby boy was so close to being in your arms. All of your dreams were coming true.

"You're doing great," the midwife said, her voice steady and reassuring. "Keep going."

Ten minutes turned into thirty and thirty minutes then turned into almost an hour. You were pushing and pushing but you felt like you were getting nowhere. The clock was close to striking midnight, there were only ten minutes left of March 29th.

You had the room dimmed and as comfortable as possible. You had made Leah put on some music, specifically Adele because that was whose music you found the most relaxing.

"I can see the head," The midwife announced. "You're almost there. Just a little more."

You put every ounce of strength left in your body and pushed with everything you had. It felt like an eternity, the effort taking every bit of your remaining strength.

"You're so strong," Leah whispered, her hand tightly in yours, "You've got this."

You let out a deep breath, “Le, I can’t do this! I-I can’t.” You cried.

“You can,” Leah nodded her head, kissing the back of your hand, “I know you can, pretty girl.”

With each push, the midwife's excitement grew. "One more big push! His head is out, just the shoulders now!”

You gave it your all, pushing with every last bit of strength. Your favourite Adele song, Make You Feel My Love began to play just as you finished pushing. Right before midnight, with one final, powerful push, you felt an overwhelming release.

A small, piercing cry filled the room, and the midwife carefully lifted your son onto your chest as Adele played out. "He's here!" she exclaimed, her voice full of joy.

“Time of birth is eleven fifty-six!” You heard a nurse call out.

Tears streamed down your face as they placed Finley on your chest. His tiny body was warm, and you felt an immediate, unbreakable bond. Leah leaned in, kissing your forehead.

“Hi baby, hi!” You cooed, rubbing your hand gently down his back as the nurses cleaned him off. “Oh I know, it’s been tough hasn’t it?”

You gazed down at Finley, taking in perfect little features that resembled Leah so much. His cries softened as he felt your warmth and nothing else mattered in that moment.

You gently stroked Finley's tiny head, “We did it," you whispered, looking up at Leah. "He's perfect."

Leah nodded, her eyes never leaving Finley's face as tears of joy fell down her face. "He is, you’ve created the most perfect human.”

“Mum, would you like to cut the cord?” A nurse asked Leah.

Leah looked down at you before you nodded, she took the scissors and cut the umbilical cord which the nurse guided her on how to cut it.

Once the cord was cut, the midwife took Finley for a moment to check his vitals and clean him up more thoroughly. Leah stayed close beside him, her hand resting on his stomach as she whispered to him.

Meanwhile, you delivered the placenta which came out easily in a couple of pushes.

The midwife soon handed Finley to Leah, wrapped in a soft blanket "He's perfect," The nurse said to you with a smile. "One little healthy baby boy."

"Hi, Finley Jake," Leah whispered, gently stroking his cheek as she sat down in the chair beside you. "Welcome to the world, little man.”

Finley’s tiny fingers slipped out of the blanket, his little face mirrored Leah’s classic frown. “You really wanted to share your birthday with your Mumma, huh?” Leah whispered, “Well there’s no one else I’d rather share it with, you’re so perfect.”

[lucysarah-c]

Let’s say Levi has a crush on reader but someone else also is pursuing reader. This someone else could be on a similar level to Levi but not necessarily his friend. I just more like to see what people think Levi would act like if he finally talks himself into pursuing reader but turns out he has “competition” in a way

Thank you if you answer this 🫶

Gasp Ah…. I LOVE THIS.

How are you?! Sorry for the late reply! Don't thank me for answering! Thank you for coming to my blog and asking.

Mh, LOVE IT. You know… have you listened to the song "You Belong With Me" by Taylor Swift? Haha, well, that's Levi LMAO.

I feel, with a hand on my heart, y'all know I love this man, but he simply cannot compete with someone in any field related to social implications. Has Levi finally talked himself into pursuing someone and trying to get his feelings across? Great, he thinks—I'll clarify—HE THINKS that he's being rather OBVIOUS. Maybe for those who know him, they would also notice Levi is interested in this person because he's not behaving like his regular self. But for the poor reader he's trying to court? … he's simply being nice HAHA.

This man would think that stopping by that person's job (if they have a bakery, tea shop, etc., for example) regularly, buying, and having a very small chit-chat is "flirting." He thinks that, if this person is a scout, asking them if they need anything from downtown or if they want a tea is CLEAR that he wants something with them. No.

So if someone else is pursuing the person he loves and has more social skills than him (which is not something hard to have), there's a high chance that person would take the lead in the "race for the reader's heart." Maybe they are more outgoing, charismatic, extroverted, etc., and they take the lead. Levi would be jealous, 100%. He would get grumpy, angry, etc., but always at himself.

I can picture him muttering and cursing at himself under his breath while working, "I'm an idiot, I'm stupid. YoUr HaIR DoESn't lOOk ThAt ShITTy toDAY," mocking his own voice, and then groaning in frustration. "… my mom must have dropped me as a baby or Kenny's kicks really damaged my brain. I can't be this stupid," realizing that this other person says "smooth shit," as he would call it, and he simply can't.

Especially because Levi's love language is acts of service… mixed with degradation lmao. "Give that, you're going to drop it," and he will carry stuff for them. "You look like shit, tch, just sit down, I'll do it," and he brews them a tea and brings them something to eat.

Levi is a grower in people. I can 100% see him having feelings for this person for months, years perhaps. Maybe they even consider and go for a relationship with Levi's competitor, and it doesn't work out, etc., and they have grown close to Levi. Something he says or does makes the reader snap and say, "… are you flirting with me, Captain?"

Levi would look stoic as ever but slightly defeated mixed with embarrassment and say, "Yeah, for the past year. Thank you for finally noticing."

(extra scene)

Levi alone in his office: "Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you? Been here all along. So, why can't you see? You belong with me."

I'll tag people on this one because I had a blast writing it. Thank you so much, you made my birthday lmao.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @levicansteponme Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[sweetiesicheng]

s.coups - slice of our lives

word count : 1,932

happy birthday to our handsome s.coups ~

-

"finally," you mutter as you sit down on a stack of wooden pallets. you just finished cleaning for the night at the restaurant you work at, but you couldn't help but think about the mistakes you had made earlier during tonight's service.

you dig through your backpack for a bit before opening one of the pockets. you take a box of cigarettes out and open the box to see your lighter and two cigarettes left. you take a cigarette out and light it up.

as you sit in the silence of the alley behind the restaurant, you try to calm down before going home for the night. you don't want to go home still thinking about the service since you have work tomorrow as well.

when you're done smoking the first cigarette, you drop the end onto the ground and reach down to smash it with your foot. the back door to the kitchen suddenly opens, and you see the expeditor walking out.

"hey," seungcheol greets when he notices you.

"hey," you greet back and light the second cigarette.

"you look beat," he comments as he takes his jacket off.

"cause i am," you reply. "we were slammed tonight."

"front of house messed up a lot since myungho’s out sick. we already chewed them out for it,” he mentions. he walks over to you and stands in front of you. "need a ride home?" he offers.

you shake your head, "no. i live pretty far. i'm going to leave after i'm done," you say to him.

"can i stay to make sure you get on your way safely?" he asks, "my mother would kill me if she somehow found out i left one of my coworkers by herself in this crusty alley."

you crack a smile, a first for the night. then, you nod your head. "yea, you can keep me company," you say to him. "i'd offer you a cigarette but i'm out."

he shakes his head, "i don't smoke, not anymore at least."

"better than me," you manage a laugh out. then you sigh, feeling emotions starting to bust out again, but you try to suppress them in front of your coworker.

"you okay?" seungcheol asks you. "hey, look at me. y/n, look at me."

you look down at the ground and watch your falling tears hit the pallet. seungcheol reaches over to take the cigarette away from your hand.

"hey, listen," seungcheol says to you and crouches down in front of you, enough to where he is in your view. "tonight was rough, for everyone. front of house was a mess, and chef shouldn't have taken you off of your station. you're a rockstar in there. no one else can work the desserts better than you."

you start to smile as you listen to him. then you chuckle, "yea, no one better than chef," you say.

"oh whatever. when we had family dinner that one time and you two had your little competition. everyone knew you were the best, even chef. if you hadn't beaten him, then you would have never stepped foot in that kitchen again. you're in that kitchen with all of us for a reason," seungcheol says to you. he reaches in and wipes some of your tears away. "need another pack?" he asks, noticing the empty box next to you.

you shake your head, "i’ll buy one another time," you say to him. "um, thanks. sorry you had to see that," you say to him and wipe the remaining tears with your sleeve.

"no worries. take it easy on yourself," seungcheol replies.

—

"y/n?"

you look over your shoulder and have to do a double take when you see seungcheol.

"oh, hey," you greet and look back at the mixer. "give me a second," you say to him.

"no, you're good. just wanted to tell you that i left something for you in your bag. keep it up," he says before walking away.

you smile and continue working. there are two desserts for tonight's service, but they're the ones you usually go with. with one of the line cooks helping you out today, the two of you finish preparing everything.

eventually, service begins and you help prep ingredients for the next day since you'll have to wait a bit until people want to eat their desserts.

"y/n, i'll love you forever if you save me a piece of cake. i want to bring my girlfriend something yummy from work," one of the line cooks says to you as she passes by.

"you should bring her here," you say to her. "i'll pack you two if we have any leftover," you say and continue prepping ingredients while she goes back to her station.

once some more time passes during service, you start making the desserts for customers as you hear orders called out.

"coming through. watch your feet," you hear someone say as they walk through with a tray.

"shoot, we need more strawberries," the line cook with you says. "i thought we had enough," he mumbles while finishing off making a dessert.

"i can grab more. finish these for me," you say to your coworker before leaving your station. you quickly go into the walk-in fridge and grab more strawberries before leaving. you quickly walk back, trying to avoid being in the way of the other chefs and employees. "here you go," you say to your coworker.

"thanks," he replies before finishing the desserts and bringing them to the pass.

the rest of service goes smoothly, much better than the past few shifts where you had been more stressed out. after you finish cleaning for the night, you grab your stuff and notice something in your bag, a new box of cigarettes. there's a note attached to it with a phone number and a smiley face drawn onto it.

you smile and pack up your things before leaving. you put your headphones on and start walking to the subway station.

—

[ y/n ]

you trying to keep me

hooked?

[ seungcheol ]

just trying to save you a trip.

did not mean to supply to

your habit.

my apologies. my apologies. 🙇🏻‍♂️

[ y/n ]

haha all good

thanks

[ seungcheol ]

no problem. get home safe.

—

the door to the condo slams open, "am i late?" seungcheol asks as he hurries in, all while holding a pizza box.

"you have three minutes. come on, sit. i'm hungry," you say to him as you crack open two beer cans.

"the pilot better not follow her again," seungcheol says as he throws his jacket onto the arm of the couch. he sits down next to you and pulls the coffee table closer to the couch so you two can reach easier.

"do you think she'll give a rose to him?" you ask as the show starts. "oh, not him!" you shout when you see an eliminated contestant back on the screen. “what is he doing?”

"geez...that's embarrassing," seungcheol comments.

the two of you watch the newest episode of "the bachelorette" together. both of you mentioned how you wanted to hang out, so you two eventually set up a date on one of the days that the restaurant is closed.

"that is way too embarrassing," seungcheol comments again as you two watch what is happening. "and what he said to her was even more embarrassing."

"yea, he's kind of aloof about all of this," you say as you grab a slice of pizza. "i'm surprised he hasn't gotten out yet. i bet he's just in this still cause he's cute," you add on as you watch the episode.

"you think he's cute?" seungcheol asks you. you look over at him.

you shrug, "i mean, yea. he's cute, but he's all over the place," you reply.

seungcheol leans back, putting his arm on the back of the couch. he tilts his head as he looks at you. "what about me?" he asks.

"huh?"

"am i cute?”

you stare at him, pizza in hand. you can feel yourself blushing from his words, knowing that your answer is in your face.

"you're cute. did you know that?" seungcheol asks.

"we're supposed to be watching "the bachelorette" right now," you say to him, trying to calm down internally at the same time.

he grins, "alright. let's watch," he says to you before looking at the tv screen again.

you look forward, eating a bit of pizza and trying to focus on the latest episode. you finish your slice and finish off the beer too. the episode continues on with a few dates and a jaw dropping moment happening.

you sit back on the couch with a second beer in hand. while watching, you feel seungcheol move his arm to be on your shoulders. since you want to be comfortable, you eventually lean against seungcheol as you two watch the episode together.

"damn, i should've bought flowers..." seungcheol mutters while the bachelorette starts handing roses to certain people. you look at seungcheol again. "you didn't hear that."

"uh huh," you start and look at the tv screen, "right." you chuckle while you hear seungcheol sigh. "you can give me some next time i come over," you say to him.

"next time? you're giving me a next time?" seungcheol asks.

you look at him again and smile, "you're cute too, choi seungcheol."

—

"stop! i'm testing new flavors!" you whine at seungcheol, who is trying to snag another piece of cake from the counter. "seungcheol! just wait like five more minutes."

"it's just one cake, y/n. you have a bunch of them. i'm sure it's great," seungcheol says to you, finally standing away from the table. with no cake in hand, he crosses his arms and leans against a counter while watching you decorate the cakes and put little details on top of them. "you going to make this for tomorrow's service?"

"yea. i've been thinking about making new stuff lately," you mention. "i think it'll be good for a change," you say and pick up a plate. "okay, taste test please," you say to seungcheol and hand him the plate.

he grabs the plate with one hand and opens a drawer next to him to take a fork out. he cuts into the dessert and takes a bite. you watch his expression change into a smile.

"oh, that's really good, babe," he says to you and continues eating. "i think this is better than the chocolate mousse."

"let me try," you request. seungcheol feeds you a piece. "i think it needs something on top," you state your opinion. "maybe just something for color."

you open the fridge and start looking for something to garnish the dessert before opening the freezer as well.

"what about this?" seungcheol points to something in the freezer.

"you think?" you ask.

"you have more of them, so it can't hurt to try," seungcheol says to you.

you make more desserts with little modifications to them, trying to determine which one is the best. seungcheol gives his opinions, which helps you a lot as both of you taste everything.

"this one is the best," you say to him, pointing at one of the cakes.

seungcheol nods, "yea, that one is really good. i like this one a lot too."

"hmm...maybe i should just wait until next week. i'll need to ask mingyu to order some ingredients at the restaurant," you say to him.

"you have plenty of time," seungcheol says to you. "you did a great job," he adds with a smile.

"thanks for helping me out."

"of course, babe."

[sadnymi]

Down bad

[Lorenzo Berkshire×reader][TTPDM]

Words:2.5k

I was sitting outside the castle on a bench in the garden, enjoying the warm breeze and losing myself in the music playing through my headphones. It was one of those rare peaceful moments, and I was soaking it in. Suddenly, I felt a shadow fall over me. I looked up and saw Lorenzo Berkshire smiling down at me.

"Hey," I said, taking off my headphones.

"Hey," he replied, sitting next to me. "Nice headphones."

"Thanks," I said, a bit taken aback. Why was he talking to me?

"Where'd you get them?" he asked, leaning in slightly.

"My mom got them for my birthday," I replied, still confused. "Why are you talking to me?"

He chuckled. "They're really cool. What are you listening to?"

"A Muggle artist," I said cautiously. "I don't think you'd like it."

"Why not?" he asked, his smile widening.

"Well," I hesitated, "maybe because you and your friends have bullied me and half the half-bloods here?"

He laughed, a sound that was surprisingly pleasant. "I didn't do such a thing."

"Your friends did," I shot back.

"Well, I'm not them, am I?" he said, his face too close to mine now. "Show me what you're listening to."

I sighed but handed over one of my earbuds. He put it in and raised an eyebrow as "A man without love " by Engelbert Humperdinck started playing.

He listened for a moment, then grinned. "This is brilliant! Why would you think I wouldn't like this?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know, maybe because you lot act like Muggle things are beneath you?"

"Not all of us," he said. "Besides, if I listened to this more often, maybe I'd have a better taste in music."

I couldn't help but Smile. "Well, you're off to a good start."

"So," he said, leaning in even closer, "you gonna show me more Muggle music, or are you keeping all the good stuff to yourself?"

"Depends," I said, smirking. "Are you gonna stop your friends from bullying mine?"

He shrugged. "I'll think about it. As long as you promise to share more music with me."

"Deal," I said, smiling.

And this was the start of the disaster.

We started hanging out more often, much to the surprise of everyone around us. At first, it was just casual encounters in the garden or the library. He always found ways to sit close, his leg brushing against mine or his arm around the back of my chair. His presence was intoxicating, his charm irresistible.

It was a battle I was losing, hard.

There was the time when we were sitting by the Black Lake, the sun reflecting off the water. I was telling him a funny story about my latest Potions mishap when he reached over and started playing with a strand of my hair.

"Does your hair always smell this nice?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes couldn't help but smile. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Lorenzo."

"Not even a little bit?" he teased, leaning in closer.

"Maybe a little," I admitted, laughing. His fingers tangled in my hair were surprisingly gentle, and I found myself leaning into his touch.

And then come the night when we were sitting in the common room, I was nervously studying for our upcoming Transfiguration exam. Lorenzo, clearly not as concerned, was lounging next to me.

"Why are you so worried?" he asked, leaning over to look at my notes.

"Because I don't want to fail," I said, exasperated. "Some of us actually need to study, you know."

"Well," he said, taking a strand of my hair and twirling it around his finger, "you're smart. You'll do fine. Besides, you've got me to help you."

I looked at him skeptically. "You? Help me?"

"Hey, I'm not just a pretty face," he said, grinning. "I've got brains too, you know."

"Prove it," I challenged.

He leaned even closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "I'll have to show you then," he whispered, making my heart skip a beat.

Before his next Quidditch match, he found me, nervously twisting my scarf in my hands. He walked up and bent down to whisper in my ear.

"Wish me luck?" he asked, his breath warm against my skin.

"Good luck," I said softly, feeling a shiver run down my spine.

He smiled, then leaned in and kissed my cheek. "For good luck," he murmured before jogging off to join his team.

I sat there, stunned and blushing furiously. The girls around me whispered and giggled, I couldn't focus on anything but the spot where his lips had brushed my skin.

Our time together became more frequent, and with every passing day, he found new ways to get closer. Whether it was during study sessions in the library, where he'd absentmindedly play with my hair while I talked, or during meals in the Great Hall, where he'd steal food from my plate and grin at my protests, Lorenzo made sure he was a constant presence.

The next two months flew by in a whirlwind of flirtation and playful banter. Lorenzo and I were almost inseparable, spending every free moment together. He made me laugh, challenged me, and somehow always managed to make my heart race. I finally understood why every girl at Hogwarts was obsessed with him.

Then come that day, we were by the Black Lake. I was sitting on the edge of the dock, absorbed in a book, when suddenly a splash of water hit me.

"Lorenzo!" I yelled, looking up to see him grinning at me mischievously. "What was that for?"

"Just thought you could use a break from all that reading," he said, still smiling.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my book, trying to ignore him. But then he took off his shirt, revealing his well-toned torso. I couldn’t help but stare, my cheeks flushing, and I couldn't even remember what I was about to yell at him.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"Cooling off," he replied nonchalantly, before diving into the lake.

I shook my head, trying to focus on my book, but the water kept splashing around me. Annoyed, I stood up. "Are you crazy, Lorenzo? Get out of there!"

There was no response. He was nowhere to be seen. I sighed, leaning over the edge of the dock. "Very funny, Enzo. Now come out!"

Still nothing. Panic started to set in. "Okay, not funny anymore. Get out now!"

Suddenly, he emerged from the water right in front of me, pulling me down with a strong tug. I screamed in surprise as I hit the cold water, surfacing to find him laughing.

"You're insufferable!" I yelled, splashing water at him.

"You should see your face!"

I swam towards the dock, but he caught me by the waist and pulled me back. His face was inches from mine, and his eyes were sparkling. He gently pushed my wet hair away from my face.

"You're so beautiful when you're mad," he said softly, and before I could respond, he kissed me.

I pulled away, stunned, but a smile crept onto my face. He kissed me again, and this time, I kissed him back, my arms wrapping around his neck. The world seemed to disappear, the cool water contrasting with the warmth between us.

Laughing, I pushed him under the water, but he quickly resurfaced, grabbing my leg and pulling me down with him. Under the water, he kissed me again, the sensation intensified by the surroundings.

When we surfaced, both of us laughing and gasping for air, I knew. One thing was for sure: I was down bad, very, very bad for Lorenzo Berkshire. And for a moment, I knew cosmic love.

I woke up next day with this smile on my face sleep felt impossible that night my mind replying what happened over and over again.

I was walking down the hallway, when I saw him. Lorenzo was kissing a Hufflepuff girl, right there in front of everyone. I froze, my heart sinking into my stomach. This couldn’t be happening. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.

I walked up to them, my legs feeling like lead. The girl smiled and waved him goodbye, completely oblivious to my presence. When I stood in front of him, he looked down and smiled. "Hey, beautiful."

I raised an eyebrow, trying to process the scene I had just witnessed. "Are you fucking kidding me, Lorenzo?"

He looked genuinely confused. "Hey, what’s wrong?"

"What’s wrong?" I echoed, my voice shaking with a mix of disbelief and anger. "You were literally kissing that girl, Lorenzo!"

He shrugged, still smiling. "Yeah, and?"

"And?" I felt like I was going to explode. "What the fuck, Lorenzo?"

He looked at me, still clueless. "I don’t understand why you’re so mad."

I just stared at him, unable to believe his nonchalance. Then I laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "Is this some kind of joke?"

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Okay, Lorenzo, I’m going to ask you one thing."

"Sure," he said, leaning against the wall. "What is it?"

"What are we?" I asked, my voice trembling with the effort to stay calm.

He looked at me, genuinely puzzled. "What do you mean, what are we?"

"Damn it, Lorenzo! What are we? What's so hard about that?"I repeated, my patience wearing thin.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We're friends."

"Friends?" I echoed, feeling like I had been punched in the gut. "We’re friends?"

"Yeah, sure we are," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I felt a wave of anger and disbelief wash over me. "And you go around kissing all your friends?"

He sighed again, this time with a hint of frustration. "So that’s it. You’re mad because I kissed you."

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. "Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not mad because you kissed me, Lorenzo. I’m mad because not even 24 hours later, you’re kissing another girl!"

He shrugged, looking unconcerned. "It was just casual, Y/N. Me, you, even this—it’s nothing serious. We were having fun."

I felt tears gathering in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "Casual?" I laughed bitterly, my voice breaking. "Casual?"

He looked at me, genuinely surprised."Y/N, you didn’t really fall in love with me, did you?"

I felt like I had been slapped. "Fuck you, Enzo. Fuck you to hell." I turned and walked away, not looking back.

Lorenzo was the charming prince, Hogwarts' golden boy, but I learned the hard way that he was indeed a Slytherin for a reason.

Unlike other Slytherins who might hex your cauldron to explode or jinx your broom to veer off course, Lorenzo wielded his charm like a weapon. With a dazzling smile and those irresistible dimples, he'd make you feel like the center of the universe, only to shatter your heart with a well-timed wink and a “Thanks, but no thanks.” Who needs dark magic when you have a face like that?

There were only two weeks left before the end of the year, and I was completely losing it. I hated him, loved him, and missed him all at once. One moment, I imagined myself killing him, and the next, I wished he'd come and apologize, begging for my forgiveness.

But what if that didn't happen? What if I couldn't have him? I might just die. It wouldn't make any difference.

I woke up every day soaking my pillow with tears. How could I let this happen? How could I be so stupid?

Meanwhile, Lorenzo continued his life with those charming, stupid smiles and beautiful eyes. He walked past me like I didn't exist. He might have looked like an angel, but he was the devil.

When the last day of school arrived, I didn't even care about which house won the cup this year. I cried the whole way home, telling my mom that I hated all the stupid romcoms we'd watched together and that I never wanted to watch them again. She realized I had it bad. She tried to comfort me and asked what happened, but I couldn't tell her—it was too embarrassing.

I even told Dad that he should've sent me to a Muggle school instead and that I hated his wizarding world. He looked confused, but then Mom explained it was the effect of getting my heart broken for the first time. She told me it would get better.

But it didn’t and I found myself crying like a baby at the gym. Fuck it, fuck him, and fuck how naive I was. The embarrassment of standing there, asking him what we were—oh god, how can I erase this from my memory?

I'd spent so many nights curled up with romcoms, thinking love was magical and perfect. Turns out, love was a lot more like getting hit by a Bludger. And there I was, at the gym, sobbing over a guy who probably couldn't spell "commitment" if his life depended on it.

Every time I saw a couple holding hands or laughing together, I'd roll my eyes so hard I thought they'd get stuck. "Fuck off," I'd mutter, then promptly burst into tears. My emotional stability was like a broken wand—completely unreliable and prone to dramatic outbursts.

And the worst part? The whole "what are we" conversation. I cringed every time I thought about it. Standing there, pouring my heart out, only to get shot down. If I could cast a memory charm on myself, I would. Obliviate the whole damn thing.

But no, instead I was stuck replaying it over and over, like some sort of twisted, heart-wrenching Pensieve. My own personal horror show.

In the end, all I could do was laugh at the absurdity of it all. There I was, heartbroken and humiliated. I wiped my tears, took a deep breath, and told myself I'd be okay. Somehow, someday, I'd be okay. Even if it meant cursing every romcom ever made and swearing off charming, beautiful-eyed devils forever.

I was sitting on my bed, my legs up on the wall, and my hand furiously scribbling in my diary.

I hate it when he lies.

I hate it when he makes me laugh.

Even worse when he makes me cry.

I hate it when he's not around,

And the fact that he didn't call.

But mostly, I hate the way I don't hate him.

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

And yeah, I didn’t write that. Katarina Stratford did. But who would know? Those egoistic evil wizards wouldn’t know about Kat or the movie my Muggle mother showed me when I was ten, making me believe every bad boy is just like Patrick Verona—pretty and just misunderstood.

I stared at the song playing on my phone. The same Engelbert Humperdinck song that played when this all started: same Engelbert Humperdinck, same man, same,I feel you cause i too woke up every day, start to break up Knowing that it's cloudy above every day I start out, then I cry my heart out.

How could I have been so foolish, thinking Lorenzo was anything other than what he appeared to be? I wanted to believe he was different, that underneath his charming facade, there was a heart that beat just for me. But I was wrong, and now I was left to pick up the pieces of my shattered dreams.

I let out a sigh, closing my diary and tossing it aside. The ceiling above seemed to blur as tears welled up in my eyes. I could still see his smile, hear his laugh, and feel his touch. And despite everything, I missed him. I missed the way he made me feel special, even if it was all a lie.

"Casual," he said. Yes, because it was casual when he said I was the prettiest girl at Hogwarts. Oh wait, not just Hogwarts, but the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. Of course it was casual when he kissed my finger when I accidentally cut it while turning a page. And it was casual when he said he couldn’t spend a day without talking to me. Or when he told his friends he couldn’t meet them because he was going to the lake with "his girl." He called me his fucking girl.

Cause fuck it, I was in love. And fuck him if I can't have us.

My phone lit up. I grabbed it and rolled my eyes when I saw what it was—a notification that he added a story on his Instagram. I had turned on notifications for him back when I was crushing on him.

It was a song. Not just any song, but the same damn song. I started to think this was the doing of Engelbert Humperdinck maybe promoting for a new project.

My heart dropped as I opened it. The lyrics were: "So, if you see my girl please send her home to me. Tell her about my heart that's slowly dying."

I sat straight, my eyes widened when a message popped up on my screen with his name.

Lorenzo: Does Engelbert Humperdinck have any song about fucking it up so hard and trying to fix it?

[reiderwriter]

Hey lovely! Hope you’re doing good! I was listening to bad idea right? By Olivia Rodrigo and thought it would be a good idea for a Spencer fic, was thinking something something with a little angst, smut and possibly a fluffy ending! ♥️

Ps love your writing 🖤

A/N: Most relatable song released this year, if we're being totally honest with ourselves, right 💀 I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: (Munch Spencer Truthers, I'm throwing yourself another bone here), Oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (male), slight hand job at the end, penetrative sex, cum play, etc. Minors DNI 18+

Your fling with Spencer Reid from the BAU ended abruptly when he fell off the face of the earth.

You weren't sure how someone who had described himself as technophobic had managed to perfect the art of ghosting someone, but boy had he, and you were still a little bit angry about it.

Even angrier when you saw him plastered over the local news out on a case, explaining to the people how fake tips to the FBI hindered cases more than helped them.

You were angry because he looked so good. His hair was shorter, displaying his all too pretty features prominently, and pissing you off to no end as you still felt your heart beat out of your chest until he'd disappeared into a crime scene again.

You brushed it off and berated yourself until the text came.

It wasn't much, just a quick hello, but you waited for a few minutes anyway to see if he'd say anything else.

When he didn't, you grew frustrated and text him a response.

“Who is this?”

It was petty, but four months of radio silence deserved less, in all honesty.

You weren't expecting the phone to vibrate out of your hand as you waited for a response, but it lit up with his call and you scrambled to wait enough time to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“Hi. It's Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid, from the Behavioural Analysis Unit, this is Y/N right?”

“Yes, Spencer, it's me. My number didn't change after four months.”

“Okay, that was deserved.”

“Why are you calling Spencer?”

“Because I'm a burnt out child prodigy who didn't cure schizophrenia by age 25 and my friends missed my birthday. And because I really wanted to see you.”

The line went quiet as you contemplated what the hell you would say to that.

“It would be stupid to ask if you remembered my address, right?”

“Y/N, I remember what you taste like, and I'll never forget it.”

“Good. I'm locking the door in half an hour.” You didn't give him time to respond before exiting the call and running to your bathroom.

Maybe it wasn't the best idea entertaining a fling from months ago on a whim at 7pm on a Wednesday evening, but you had nothing else to be doing with your time.

It wasn't illegal for people to reconnect, and you were not going to mention this to any close or mutual friends of yours, so one conversation (or whatever this was) probably wouldn't have any consequences anyway.

Caution blown to the wind, you replaced your work clothes with a comfortable dress, fixed your hair and poured a glass of wine and waited.

As if on queue, 27 minutes later, Spencer was at your door. Or more accurately in your house.

Your threat to lock the doors had obviously spurred him on, and you heard the door handle twist as he stepped into the space.

“Spencer. How lovely, to what do I owe the honor?”

The adrenaline of making sure the door was unlocked had obviously worn off for him, as you saw him shift awkwardly in the doorway of your living room, sat comfortably on your couch, your skirt just riding high enough to distract.

“I was thinking. Well, I suppose the correct term would be overthinking. Emily had to snap me out of it, because I was kicking myself and doubting myself and worrying so much that we almost lost the unsub…”

“What I’m trying to say is I’ve regretted not doing too many things to think coming to beg you to kiss me again is a bad idea. It’s not a bad idea, right?”

“That depends, Spencer.” You replied, setting your glass of wine down and standing up. You took a wobbly step towards him, eager to blame your hesitancy on the wine rather than the things his gaze, his words and his simple presence was doing to your body.

“On if you only want a kiss.” Your hand gingerly slipped up his chest until it was hooked into his hair, exploring the shorter locks as he grabbed you by the waist.

“Or if you aren't satisfied with just that.”

“I can't seem to come up with an answer. Perhaps you should kiss me and it'll jog my memory.”

You finally cracked a smile, and saw his face instantly bloom into ot as well.

“Nu-uh Spencer. I think you have to take that chance this time.”

He hesitated only a second before his hands were cradling your face, tipping your chin up to him as he bent to kiss you. You immediately responded, letting your hands grab fistfuls of his shirt as you pulled each other closer.

It sent you off balance, but you let yourself follow the motion of you tipping backwards, letting him catch you as you began moving in the direction of your bed.

“Not a bad idea,” he mumbled between deep kisses, letting loose a stray moan when your hands trailed down to his belt and below. “Definitely not a bad idea.”

Somehow in the clash of lips and hands, you managed to make it back to your bed, his hands already managing to find themselves under your dress as his lips diverted your attention.

“Four months, Spencer.” You growled the words into his mouth as your tongues battled for dominance. “Four months without this. I thought I'd go insane.”

You felt him smile as he lifted you, and grinned too as you wrapped your legs around him just as he began climbing onto the bed, softly lowering you down until he was on top of you.

His tongue travelled down your neck, making his way back up towards your ear.

“I did go a bit insane, you know?”

His hands flipped up your skirt as he ground his dick against your crotch, pushing it up further until the bottoms of your breasts were peaking out of the scraps of material as well.

“Let me make it up to you?” It was phrased like a question he didn't care about the answer to, as he pushed off of you and completely rid your body of the material that was hindering it completely.

“That's better.” You swore you heard a sigh of contentment as he held your thighs apart and lowered his head, one kiss at a time, to your neglected pussy.

He hooked a ginger under your panties, and pushed them off to the side, but he'd never been the most patient, and he'd already spread your legs. He'd just work around the impediment, you knew.

And he did, starting with a casual flick of the tongue as he looked up at you from his place at your cunt, smiling at you as he began to feast.

You'd never thought of yourself as a pillow princess before Spencer, enjoying giving love as much as receiving but he gave you the perfect royal treatment, and enjoying it so much it was impossible to deny.

After getting so spoiled, it was a wonder that you even knew how to adapt to life without him, nothing compared to the care and attention he showed you in bed.

Your thoughts blended together as he pressed a finger into you, already sneaked with his spit and your wetness, collected from between his lips and your soaked cunt. His pace was steady, repetitive, and driving you fucking insane.

Never a demanding lover, before you would have simply let him enjoy his time between your legs, enjoying just how much he enjoyed it himself as he lapped up all of your juices.

But four months clean from your addiction to Spencer Reid and you were snapping.

Your hands gripped at his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt than he'd been before, enjoying the muffled moans and the sound of his tongue generously lapping up all you had to offer.

You started humping his mouth, holding his head still as you used him as a tool to get yourself off, finally cumming on his mouth with a shudder and an unfiltered moan.

It would've been embarrassing if it wa anyone else, just how loud you'd been for your ex-boyfriend.

“You taste the same.” He said, wiping the remainders of your cum from his lips as he stroked himself, having loosed his cock from his pants sometime between you moaning like a wanton whore and using his face as a sex toy.

A single glance at him over you pleasuring himself was enough to get you ready for round two.

He had sat up on his knees, head and torso tilted slightly back to give you a better view of his cock being pumped hard and fast.

“Spencer Reid, don't you dare make yourself cum.” You thought the words were joking, light even but even you were shocked by the sheer lust dripping from your throat.

Wrapping your legs around him again, you pulled yourself up into his lap, holding yourself still as you quickly unfastened each of his shirt buttons, pushing it away and chucking it so far that he wouldn't be able to use it to cover up anything else.

It took you a minute more to properly situate yourself, but soon you were sinking down onto his cock and allowing the stretch to rule your mind and movements for a minute.

You gently started riding him, letting each gasp and moan reach your ears and spur you on, not holding back on your side either, telling him just how good it felt to have him in you raw once again.

Your stamina wasn't great though especially after having had one powerful orgasm already, and your movements soon became sloppy.

He kissed you softly on the lips, and you let go of the tension in your body as he pushed you onto your back, made sure you were comfortable, and started beating his cock into you with such a force that you were sure the bed was going to break.

It was this intensity that you craved, this complete change from his insistence on putting you first so to speak, and then using you as a human sexton when it suited him, allowing his cock to push you to your limits and beyond.

It wasn't like you could protest anyway, mouth hanging limply open in a scream of pleasure as sparks shot up your spine.

Entertaining Spencer Reid was never a bad idea. You decided then and there that if he left you again for whatever reason, you'd hunt him to the ends of the earth and beg for another chance at this feeling of pleasure.

You came again, of course, not sure if it was his cock or his exploring hands that was tethering you to the moment as you died a little death.

His own orgasm wasn't far behind your own, but he'd always been a bit messy. You weren't surprised when he gave a small panicked moan, pulling out at the last second as his cum spurted out. You helped him ride it out, wrapping a hand around him to stroke him until his dick was drained, the contents sprayed across your chest and breasts, a single drop even making it to the side of your mouth, but that was quickly lapped up.

His aftercare was almost as good as his foreplay, as he took pains to wash you diligently, even as all you wished to do was sleep well into the night directly after feeling his hot cum pour onto you.

He'd gathered a wash cloth, fresh set of pyjamas and an extra blanket to cocoon you both in before you could even lift a finger, and climbed into bed before you could even think of asking if he was staying the night.

With the satisfaction of multiple orgasms finally catching you, you fell asleep in his arms, a grin plastered on your lips, his hands possessively surrounding you.

Needless to say, when you woke in the morning, he was still there.