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les4elliewilliams · 4 months

Text

Happy together.

Officer!Ellieㄨ fem reader

a/n: i honestly don't know how to feel about this but it took me ages to write so i'm going to post it anyway. also enjoy the trashy lil pic i edited of my wife😌// @sapphichotmess is gonna get soapy boobies pics for proofreading this. i love you you're amazing.

cw/wc: 17k ! murders/violence, mention of blood (I don't think it's that bad but if you're sensitive to this type of stuff just scroll), officer!ellie x waitress!reader, (tw) Eminem, smut, breeding kink, handcuffs😔, strap-on sex (r!receiving), thigh riding (e!receiving), use of pet names like (mama, princess, babe etc), and uhhh that's it i believe?? lmk if i missed something.

daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.

The Police Station – Late Night – September 11th, 2018.

The auburnette released a heavy, exaggerated sigh, her weariness palpable as she delicately brushed the rough, calloused palms of her hands against her fatigued face, a few stray strands of hair cascading gently across her features, capturing the attention of her colleague. His eyes lifted towards his friend, a concerned furrow appearing on his face as he took in the haunting purple shadows under her eyes, a poignant reflection of her exhaustion.

"You look like shit, man," He suddenly exclaimed, the tips of his fingers dancing on the smooth plastic caps of his laptop.

"Awh, thanks, that's so sweet," She reclined in her office chair, the weight of the day's paperwork momentarily forgotten. It felt as though she had been sitting there for an eternity, each and every cell of her body yearning and longing for her wife. With her shift drawing to a close, she could hardly contain her anticipation of returning home to you, just so that she could feel the warmth of your embrace and perhaps resume the intimate and passionate encounters you had shared last night.

The boy leaned back in his chair, and a smug smirk spread across his face. "You look like you haven't slept," His gaze shifted back to his friend, who was sitting at her desk across the room, her eyes tired and her shoulders slumped.

"'Cause I haven't," she uttered, shaking her head. A light, airy puff of air escaped her chapped lips as her fingers danced through her locks, coaxing burnished stray strands away from her face.

"How are things going with your girl?" He gave her a questioning look, as if silently asking what was going on. It struck him that she hadn't complained about her marriage in a while.

Her response was a mere nod as she admitted, "Pretty good, actually." However, her gaze remained unfocused, her mind elsewhere as she replayed the previous night's memories in her head. Your moans echoed in her ears while the image of your ecstatic expressions played on repeat, like a broken video tape stuck on a single scene.

"Really?"

He was the one she trusted wholeheartedly. In the darkest hours of her marital struggles, she sought refuge in Jesse's ever-present presence. Hours would slip away as she poured out her heart to him until the early light of dawn or until their shift was over. Yet, he never seemed to mind 'cause his friends' problems were his problems.

After a great four years together, where you and she shared an uncanny kinship and complemented each other like two puzzle pieces, things took a gradual turn for the worse. Heated arguments began to erupt frequently, fueled by petty disagreements about insignificant matters such as the shoes left by the door, piles of unwashed dishes on the living room coffee table, or the kitchen table. Over time, both of you grew tired of this never-ending cycle of conflict.

Dr. Diaz was remarkable in his ability to guide both of you in honing your communication skills and learning how to make each other feel truly heard. It felt like a fresh start with someone you already knew so well and had shared countless memories with. Initially, walking out of your first session was an uncomfortable experience, leaving you feeling almost overly exposed, as if you had revealed too much. The ride back home was filled with an awkward silence that was unfamiliar, never in your life you felt awkward around her, not even once. A few small sighs escaped occasionally, both of you remaining silent until you finally returned home.

"Yeah."

His warm smile spoke volumes as he offered reassuring words to her, "Told you it was just a matter of time. Dina and I have been through it, too, before."

She sat comfortably in her weathered chair, leaning back slightly as she pushed herself away from her sturdy wooden desk. "Speaking of Dina, how's she holdin’ up?" her mind suddenly shifted to a very pregnant Dina who was already eight months along and was about to explode at any second.

The raven-haired man imperceptibly shrugged his shoulders "Y'know, pregnancy hormones—what the doctor said."

She let out a soft snort, a half-smile gracing her lips. "Have you settled on the names?" she inquired.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "We keep fighting over it," he admitted, "She wants to name him-" before he could finish his sentence, an announcement echoing through the hallway of the department caught Ellie's and his attention simultaneously. They stood up abruptly, exchanging concerned glances and rushed out of the small room with a sense of urgency.

"A 140, where?" Ellie's voice quivered, her heart hoping against hope that she had misheard the news. Worry painted itself across her freckled face, etching lines of concern amidst the constellation of her pretty freckles.

It couldn't be. No, it couldn't.

Color drained from her face, and she grew paler than the moon, the realization hitting her like a sudden storm. It was the same diner where you worked, and worry consumed her like a relentless tide.

They made their way towards Jesse's car with lightning speed, both fully aware that Ellie was in no condition to get behind the wheel. She urged Jesse to drive faster, her heart thudding like crazy in her ribcage. She tried to call you countless times, but you never answered. Her palms turned clammy, her hands trembling like fragile leaves in the wind.

"Fuckin' hurry up." The car swerved erratically, anxiety emanating from every pore of her skin. Her voice grew louder and more forceful as she shouted at Jesse, who held the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"We’re gonna crash if we go any faster than this," he raised his voice back at her, feeling all the pressure and tension of the world on his shoulders, but at the same time, he couldn't blame her.

The Diner – Late Night – September 11th, 2018.

As they reached the crime scene, her eyes were immediately drawn to the stark sight of yellow tape cordoning off the area. The tape fluttered gently in the breeze, creating an almost surreal barrier. Beyond it, the solemn figures of police officers moved with purpose, their expressions a mix of determination and concern.

A lone officer stood at the forefront, diligently jotting down notes, while another leaned in to share crucial details about the tragic event. Their hushed conversations hinted at the weight of the situation as they sought to unravel the enigma of the killer's intentions. "I've never seen anything like this 'round here before. The killer must have acted out of rage or passion. There must be a reason," The freckled girl strained to hear the officers' hushed conversation, her stomach sinking with each word.

As she moved closer, they swiftly barred her way. The scene unfolded like a haunting painting—the diner's floor marked by crimson footsteps. She couldn't tell if it was the officer's grim descriptions or the frigid night air that sent shivers down her spine.

"Williams, they are already taking care of it, just wait here and-"

"No, no, no, listen—I have to go in there. My wife works here." She desperately attempted to push through the two middle-aged men, but they held her back with ease. Her voice quivered with fear as she begged to reach you. Were you harmed? Were you in pain? Were you...alive?

Her face was like a canvas of worry, etched with lines of concern. With a graceful shrug, she brushed off the unwelcome hands on her shoulders, "Who's the victim?" she feared what the answer to her question would be, but she needed to know. Her brows were furrowed with worry as she waited for a response, her eyes brimming with fear. "Pleaseplease—Tell me it's not her." She pleaded with such desperation and worry on your behalf that the two men couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. They saw the depth of her love and concern for you, and what touched them the most was that they knew you.

Every day, you would lovingly pack a lunch, a sweet treat, or even a hearty dinner to bring to her at work. Your kindness shone through like a warm beam of sunlight, always in a cheerful mood with a genuine smile on your face as you chatted with her colleagues, asking them about their day and thanking them for their service before returning to your routine.

Ellie stood before the men, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. One of the men heaved a deep, mournful sigh that echoed in the stillness, and he shook his head gravely, his lips drawn into a tight, sorrowful frown.

"Your wife is currently being interrogated as she was present when the murder occurred," Officer Johnson explained to the younger girl, his voice low and measured. She let out a long sigh of relief as his words reached her ears, finally being able to remove the image of you lying in a pool of blood from her mind.

While she felt guilty about it, she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that it wasn't you the one who had been brutally murdered. It was a twisted and sick feeling, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders even though a girl had been brutally murdered. She was grateful that you were still alive, safe, and healthy, at least as far as she knew. She longed to be there for her wife, to wrap her arms around you and hold you tight. She wanted to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be okay, even though she wasn't entirely sure herself.

"Please, I need to see her." She kept pleading and pleading until her colleagues finally relented and let her slip past the bright plastic tape. She raced into the diner and quickly scanned the scene. Blood stained the floor, and the door to the back room was left wide open. Blood was pooled on the floor, with a corpse lying beneath a white sheet. Vanessa Harding was now a lifeless corpse. As Ellie surveyed the carnage, her heart ached at the sight of you sobbing on the retro sofa as an investigator tried to coax answers out of you. But you seemed completely lost in your own world, clearly shaken.

The sound of her voice calling out your name as she approached you with a mix of eagerness and concern seemed to blend with the rest of the background chatter as you found yourself unable to shake off your daze. Her trembling hands found their place on your shoulders, gently pushing the agent who was interrogating you aside. A glimpse of concern crossed her eyes as she took in the blood stains on your once-blue waitress uniform. Her heart ached at the sight of you. She hesitated, fighting the urge to pull you into a comforting hug, knowing that maintaining some distance was best in such moments. What mattered was that you were okay, healthy, at least.

The investigator began to speak, but Ellie quickly turned her head towards him, fixing him with a death glare. Her body stiffened as she shielded you from his view. "Can't you see she's having a full-on mental breakdown? We're not supposed to interrogate people in this state," she stated firmly, her voice cold and harsh.

The officer took a step back, sighing in frustration. "I'll be back in a minute." He announced, and with that, he left the room, leaving the two of you alone beside a few medical examiners and other colleagues doing their job, the light chatting becoming a white noise for the both of you.

You sat there, absentmindedly consumed by your thoughts, when a melodic voice penetrated your haze. You lifted your gaze to find a concerned Ellie standing before you, her presence initially unnoticed. Despite her ongoing comforting words, you were too engrossed in your own thoughts to truly register her. It wasn't until she drew a chair and sat right in front of you that your focus shifted completely. When your vacant eyes now met hers, you broke down again.

Your voice quivered as you whispered, "E-ellie..." as tears streamed down your face and your bottom lip trembled. You felt a sudden wave of relief as her hands gently cupped your face, and her thumb caressed your cheekbone.

Her comforting voice soothed your soul as she whispered, "I was so worried, baby. I'm here now, ‘m here." You cried harder, but this time, it was tears of gratitude and love. Her presence made you feel like nothing could hurt you anymore because she was there. You felt safe in her embrace like everything was going to be okay.

"I was getting off my- and she… she... I tried, I really tried-" Your words were tangled and muttered, barely above a whisper. You shook profusely, completely consumed by the traumatic event that had just unfolded. Ellie could sense the terror and dread in your voice, and she swiftly drew you closer, encircling you in a comforting embrace. She held you tight, her palm soothingly stroking your head, creating a soothing effect that gradually calmed your trembling. She whispered gentle words of reassurance in your ear, imploring you to calm down and promising safety. Her voice was a soothing balm, its effect helping to assuage your rattled nerves. It was all you needed, she was all you needed.

It was as if she had an uncanny knack for dispelling your fears and nerves "Shhhshh" She quieted you gently, her words evoking a profound sense of gratitude within you for having someone so attuned to your emotions in your life. "You're safe, you're safe." As she drew back, she slipped off her jacket and gently draped it over your shoulders, ensuring you were warm and at ease, hoping to stop your turmoil. "S'okay…I gotchu." She continued to softly whisper reassurances in your ear, soothing your worries away with the knowledge that everything would turn out alright. In that instant, the entire world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in the present moment.

After a few moments had passed, you had noticeably calmed down, prompting Ellie to allow the officer who had been interrogating you earlier to resume his task. She stood closely beside him as he launched into a string of questions, his pen scrawling diligently on his notebook.

"So you got off your shift, you returned to retrieve your keys, and found her dead, is that correct?" The old man recapitulated your statement, his gaze shifting between your barely exposed uniform beneath your wife's jacket and the bloodstains marking your clothing. He further inquired, "And you slipped on the blood?" His eyes remained fixated on the bloodstains that adorned your uniform, while your gaze remained locked on the bloodied footprints on the floor, you responded with a small shake of your head.

"I was kneeling in the blood, trying to bring her back, but there was no heartbeat. I freaked out. I wanted to do something, anything, but she was already gone"

"Any additional details that you recall?" he questioned, his eyebrows arching inquisitively in your direction.

"There was a..." In a feeble voice, you began to reply, only for it to falter and crack. You cleared your throat, attempting to regain your composure before speaking in a firmer tone, "There was a man." You sniffed, looking up at him with a frown tugging at the corners of your lips "He had his hood up, so I couldn't see his face. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a black hoodie, and he looked to be about 5'7," You strained to extract every possible detail, and he diligently recorded them in quick succession.

The only sound filling the crowded diner was the scratching of his pen against the paper, while the ambient chatter of the other patrons added a surreal yet comforting hum in the background. The scene felt utterly unreal, like some messed up vivid dream.

"Sir, there are no files from the security cameras' system. Whoever it was made sure to leave no traces," another officer interjected, halting the ongoing interrogation.

"Was anyone else there? besides you and well… Vanessa." He gazed at you with a furrowed brow, and you responded with a subtle shake of your head. Your lips formed a taut line as you revisited every fleeting moment preceding the end of your shift.

"I was about to finish my shift, and usually, no one shows up around that time. Before he arrived, there was a lady with a kid, but I don't think they saw each other." You explained, taking a moment to glance at your wife, hoping to find comfort in her eyes. A faint smile appeared on her face, accompanied by a small, supportive nod. She was there for you.

The officer hastily transcribed all the details, his pen scratching against the paper. "I'll give you a moment," he said, casting a furtive glance at Ellie before quietly exiting the room, making his departure alongside his steadfast colleague.

She stepped closer to you with a gentle grace, reaching out to lift your chin with the utmost care. Her touch was as light as a feather, almost as if she feared causing you any harm. "You're doing great, pretty. We're almost done, okay? Just hang on," She gazed down at you with a smile that could light up the darkest sky, her eyes filled with tenderness and warmth. Your gaze met hers, and in that moment, it felt like time stood still. Her delicate touch traced the contours of your face, evoking a sense of serenity that enveloped you. As you closed your eyes, a gentle sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned into her caress, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders.

After a few moments, Jesse entered the crowded diner, his footsteps echoing softly on the floor. He exchanged a few words with the man who had been interrogating you the entire time. Ellie briefly glanced at him, and a faint smile graced her lips as they locked eyes, holding each other's gaze in that fleeting moment.

"So whatcha wanna do when we get back home?" she asked in an attempt to steer your thoughts away from the stress and chaos.

"I don't know... I wanna sleep," you pouted, your words soft and heavy with weariness. She looked down at you with tenderness, gently brushing a stray piece of hair out of the way and tucking it behind your ear.

"Tempting. But I was thinking of your favorite movie and pizza?" she suggested, her hopeful gaze meeting yours, her voice carrying a whisper of warmth.

You forced a half smile at her suggestion, your eyes still looking more tired than ever. "What about tacos? You know that Mexican place down the street?" You recalled the Mexican restaurant that recently opened down the street. For about two weeks, you had been telling her you wanted to try it, yet you still hadn't gotten the chance to.

She brushed your hair with her fingers, each gentle stroke feeling like a soft caress. A gentle smile formed on her lips, making the apples of her cheeks more pronounced. "Good idea, babe," she praised, her voice as soothing as a summer breeze, as tender as her touch, and you couldn't help but smile back at her, feeling the warmth of her affection enveloping you like a soft blanket.

After what seemed like an eternity, they finally let you go, and Ellie refused to leave your side for even a moment. Jesse drove you both home in solemn silence, punctuated only by the occasional light banter between him and Ellie. The weight of the impending visit to the police station loomed over you, and you couldn't fathom the reason behind the barrage of questions that awaited you. Perhaps it was due to the absence of eyewitnesses, but you were ready to cooperate nonetheless. That night, she held you gently, wrapping you in a comforting hug until you fell asleep.

The Police Station – September 12th, 2018.

The very next day, your wife stood by your side as you both headed to the police station. Her hand gently rested on your thigh throughout the entire ride, silently expressing her unwavering love and support. The warm sunbeams that usually provided comfort through the car windows didn't have the same effect on your nerves. Your stomach felt heavy, as if a knot had formed within you. Anxiety and restlessness consumed you. Her green emerald eyes frequently flickered towards you as she attempted to soothe your nerves with soft whispers, promising to stay by your side the entire time.

"It's going to be okay, honey." Her lips, delicate as rose petals, gently pressed against your forehead. She reluctantly let you go, watching you disappear into the interrogation room. Her colleagues' words echoed in the air, emphasizing the need for her to stay out so she would not interfere in any way.

"How did you sleep y/n?" the detective in front of you asked, turning on the recorder player before reaching for a pencil and starting scribbling on her papers.

"Awful," you exhaled, the weight of the word hanging heavy in the air. Your index finger delicately traced the arch of your brow as you gazed downwards, lost in a moment of profound contemplation.

"It must've been a traumatizing experience for you."

You nodded barely, your tired eyes meeting hers, "It was." Your face was less radiant than usual. The detective had seen you countless times before in this exact station, searching for your wife to deliver her something. Sometimes, it was a carefully prepared meal, other times, it was a bouquet of her favorite flowers or simply a thoughtful gift. And then there were the times you were there just to check up on her, your unexpected visits filled with love and concern.

"Let's attempt to retrace your steps together. Shall we?"

"Okay"

"Let's start from the beginning," she said, giving you the chance to speak at your own pace, without any pressure, so that you could fully elaborate on your memories and feelings.

////////////////////

The Diner – Early Night – September 11th, 2018.

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling utterly exhausted from the long hours of the shift. You had barely slept the day before, managing a measly 3 hours of restless sleep that did little to ease the heavy weariness on your tired shoulders. Every inch of you ached for the comforting embrace of your bed, and your eyes longed to shut for just a moment.

As you wiped the counter clean, you glanced towards the door that seemed to swing open all too rarely during this late hour. The clock ticked closer to 4:04 am, and you knew it was unusual for people to come around this time of night. Just a few customers here and there was all you could expect, and you preferred it that way.

The background noise of chatter in the late-night diner was enough to lull you to sleep, but you kept going on autopilot, moving to the sink to wash the few dishes that awaited you. Another heavy sigh escaped your lips as you thought about the hours that separated you from your pillow's comfort—the night seemed to stretch on infinitely.

"Ready to run back home to get laid?" the shorter girl teased you playfully, nudging you with her elbow as a small smile played on her red lips. She noticed the exhaustion written on your face, the fatigue in your heavy eyelids, and the dark circles under your eyes. You let out a dry chuckle, trying to hide the exhaustion that had settled deep within you.

"Just wanna go to bed," you responded with a weak but playful smile

"Right. go to bed with your hot wife—wonder what y'all freaks will do." Vanessa continued to playfully tease you, her liking for your wife a little too evident in her words. Ever since Ellie stepped into this diner for the first time, the brunette set her eyes on her. However, Ellie had always made the fact that she wasn't interested obvious. Your friend was pretty unlucky in this sort of thing; the best she would get was a phone number scribbled on a piece of paper by a middle-aged, beer-bellied man, who was likely just looking for a quick hook-up. And despite her initial attempts to draw Ellie's attention, Vanessa could sense that her interest was unreciprocated, leaving her feelings unreturned for the time being.

You couldn't help but let out a small giggle at Vanessa's words, and you nudged her lightly with your hip as a playful gesture. She moved closer, taking over the task of drying the dishes you had just washed, her hands methodically working alongside yours to complete the chore "Oh, handcuff me, Ellie, I've been such a bad, bad girl." She imitated you in a high-pitched voice that was nothing like yours, and you responded with a dramatic gasp, feigning shock and surprise at her teasing. The exaggerated reaction only seemed to amuse her more, and she broke into a wide grin, her laughter echoing through the diner.

"Oh my god, shut up!"

She burst into a fit of laughter, her amusement so intense that it drew the attention of the few remaining customers in the retro-looking diner. Some of them shot her strange looks, narrowing their eyes disapprovingly at the disturbance, while others simply ignored her and continued with their conversations.

"I swear, you shouldn't even be allowed here. You're embarrassing.” You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her, secretly appreciating her exuberant spirit. Her laughter died down; her blue eyes shifted toward the table where an older woman and her child had just finished their meal. The brunette approached the table, wiping it clean and pocketing the generous tip the woman had left her. She shot a wide smile her way, thanking her before returning to your side behind the counters.

"Hey, not fair," you complained, turning off the faucet with a huff and drying your hands on a cloth before facing her. "Let's split."

She grinned at you unapologetically, "Sorry, finders keepers." You sighed, turning towards her with one hand on your hip, with a playful disappointment on your face.

"Whatever—my shift is almost over anyways. Guess who's gonna be stuck here for a while longer? Hah! Not me." The lighthearted taunts cut short as a man suddenly entered the diner, his dark clothes and raised hood casting an eerie shadow over his features. You exchanged a glance with your coworker, silently agreeing that the stranger's appearance was suspicious, but decided to brush it off.

"Liz is gonna be here in a bit. Want me to wait here with you until she arrives?" you offered thoughtfully, your fingers skillfully untying the frilly white fabric that had been wrapped around your waist throughout the entire shift. Your eyes darted discreetly towards the man sitting at one of the tables, completely engrossed by his phone as he typed feverishly, his fingers dancing across the screen. The dim lighting of the diner cast shadows on his face, making it difficult to discern his expressions or intent.

“Naaah, I'll be fine.” she gave you a reassuring smile, and you nodded in acknowledgment, murmuring a quick "alright" before disappearing into the back room. The sound of the door creaking echoed softly in your ears as you entered the staff area, immediately shedding your frilly apron and gathering your personal belongings.

When you exited the small room, you saw Vanessa pouring steaming coffee into the mysterious man's cup. Navigating your way towards the exit, your shoulder bumped against hers, and she whispered playfully, “Eminem wannabe,” and you couldn't help but chuckle.

You had barely made it halfway down the road when the sickening realization hit you like a brick—you had left your keys at the diner. Ellie wouldn't be home anytime soon, so there was no way you could get in. You cursed under your breath before reluctantly turning your car around, determined to retrieve your keys. But when you returned to the diner, the scene that greeted you was surreal and terrifying. Vanessa's lifeless body lay on the floor, a gruesome tableau of violence that seemed to defy imagination, and there was no trace of the Eminem look-alike she had jested about only moments ago.

With a sense of dread and disbelief, you cautiously approached her body, the pool of blood surrounding her seeming to glow a disturbingly bright shade of red in the low light of the back room. You succumbed to the weight of the situation, the strength leaving your body as you sank to your knees. After calling out her name and shaking her in vain, the cold reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. No pulse, no breathing, no nothing. The sticky, warm liquid of her blood staining your bare knees was a chilling reminder of the horror that had played out in the dark corners of the diner. The room was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of your labored breathing as you sat there in shock and the broken sobs that escaped your wobbly lips, echoing in the now-empty diner. It was a moment that you would never forget, a nightmare that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“911, what's your emergency?”

////////////////////

The Police Station – September 12th, 2018.

Your face is stained with grief and regret. “I wish I waited with her, I had a gut feeling and-” You hiccupped, your voice choked with emotion, “I regret not listening to it.” The blonde woman before you nodded in understanding, her gaze filled with a mixture of empathy and professional detachment. After a moment, she reached out to turn off the recorder, the soft click cutting off the audio of your emotional confession.

The detective stood up, her words a mere formality in the face of your emotional turmoil. "That is it, y/n. Thank you for your cooperation." With a final nod, she turned and left the room, leaving you with your emotions and thoughts.

In a flash of movement, Ellie entered the room, her steps quick and purposeful as she slid in just as the detective stepped out. Her eyes softened as she took in your tear-stained face.

"Hey," she whispered softly, her words reaching your ears and bringing a brief moment of comfort. You mustered a weak "Hey" in response. The weight of the situation was heavy on your shoulders, and you felt a deep sense of vulnerability in her presence, the trauma of the past few hours still lingering in your mind.

“You did pretty good, ma.” She stood right behind you, her touch gentle and reassuring as she rubbed your shoulders. Her presence was strong and supportive, even though you couldn't bring yourself to meet her gaze. But she was there by your side as always, and it was the only guarantee you needed in that moment.

"Just wanna go home." You murmured, your voice barely audible, earning a nod from her; her silent response conveying her understanding of your unspoken need for comfort.

"I'll take you," she offered softly, her voice a gentle reassurance. You tried to protest, not wanting to add to her burden. She was working, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to keep your hot wife from fulfilling her responsibilities.

"No, it's fine," you said hurriedly. "You're working anyways." But Ellie's insistence was unwavering, her tone firm yet compassionate.

"It's fine, I promise," she assured you, her words leaving no room for argument. All she wanted to do was linger by your side and stay home with you, but duty called, and right after dropping you home, she returned to her workplace.

Police Station – September 15th, 2018.

The raven-haired man approached Ellie, his voice serious as he announced, "Things don't look too good, El." He quickly locked the door behind him before continuing to spill some private matters everyone had kept from her.

The atmosphere in the room turned tense as Jesse placed his hands on the edge of Ellie's desk and leaned closer to her. His serious expression left no doubt that he wasn't joking around. "Are you on ‘shrooms again?" she asked sarcastically, but when he didn't break into a smile, she set down her pen and looked up at him, her expression turning serious. "I'm gonna take that as a no," she said cautiously, her voice still laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Ellie's tentative words broke the silence again, "So? You gonna tell me what's up, or you just gonna stand there and look stupid?" But her playful remark was again met with the man's serious and troubled expression. He shook his head slowly, sighing as if he was carefully considering the right words to use. He leaned closer to her, his voice now a low, hushed tone.

"They think your girl has something to do with it." The seriousness in his voice left no doubt that it was a situation that could not be taken lightly.

Ellie's defensive and aggravated tone filled the room as she stood up from her worn-out office chair, abruptly raising her voice. "What?! That's fuckin’ absurd!" she snapped, "They can't accuse her of that—she didn't do it!" Jesse raised his hand to beckon her to keep it quiet, his expression serious as he tried to keep the conversation from escalating.

"Listen, don't let them know that you know,” he explained, his voice hushed. "They weren't going to tell you because they think you'll get involved and mess up the investigation,” he explained. The freckled girl's face contorted with a mix of disbelief, anger, and fear as her friend described the situation to her. Her fists clenched as she took in the news, her mind racing with a hundred thoughts at once.

"What do the police think they have on her?" she interrogated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jesse sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out how to answer her question. "Nothing. They said they won't say anything until they find evidence.” The more she pondered the situation, the faster her heart raced, and her palms grew damp with perspiration. It almost felt like a betrayal of trust. These were people who had known you for years, yet they didn't hesitate to place you at the top of their list of suspects despite lacking any evidence.

Ellie's agitation was palpable as she paced back and forth, "So what if they don't find anything, hm?" she demanded, her frustration clear in her voice. "That's complete bullshit, Jesse—My wife… Why would they even think that?" Her voice was low and harsh, filled with a mix of outrage and defensiveness, Jesse visibly tensed at the harshness of her tone. “Just because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time? Well, guess what! It's nothing she can control. She simply happens to work at the diner, for fuck’s sake!" Her outburst reverberated off the walls of the small office, the frustration and anger practically tangible in the air as she forcefully slammed her hand down on the polished wooden desk.

Jesse gently but firmly placed his hands on Ellie's shoulders, his gaze locking with hers "Keep it quiet, dude. You tryna get both of us in trouble? I wasn't even supposed to tell you, but I thought you deserved to know," He hushed her, slightly shaking her to emphasize his point. He understood the sensitive nature of the situation, after all, they were not talking about any other girl. They were talking about Ellie's wife. Jesse's years as a police officer had taught him that stress management was key to handling these situations effectively, something Ellie seemed to lack sometimes.

Her green emeralds bored into his as she shook her head slowly, attempting to regain her composure. "Sorry," she sighed.

"Listen, there's nothing to worry about unless they find evidence." He reassured her in a soothing tone, releasing her shoulders.

"Well, I can assure you they won't find anything." She stated confidently, her tone still stern as her brows furrowed, and he nodded.

"I know. I know she has nothing to do with it." He truly couldn't wrap his head around it. How could they ever think someone like you had something to do with it? You were probably one of the kindest people he knew.

St. John's Health | Hospital – September 27th, 2018.

Eventually, the investigators turned their attention away from you, their focus shifting to the mysterious man you had described as the killer. There was no evidence whatsoever linking you to the brutal murder of Vanessa; why would you even harm someone you considered a friend? The text messages between you and your coworker revealed a purely friendly relationship, and there was no apparent motive for the crime. With no evidence to incriminate you, they dropped all suspects within three days. They all witnessed your evident grief when you discovered your friend’s lifeless body, shock and devastation overwhelming you, making them feel… off-track.

You stopped going to work, and even if you had the choice, there was no use; the diner remained shut, never to be reopened after the tragic accident, and the entire town of once quiet and peaceful community seemed unsettled and frightened by the series of murders that followed the diner accident. The once lively eatery now lay abandoned, a somber reminder of the tragedy that had befallen the town.

They had been trying everything, but the police found themselves chasing shadows. The one consistent detail from witnesses was the description of a man wearing a hood that covered his face, yet no one managed to catch a glimpse of his identity. So the authorities tried diligently interrogating individuals with a history of violence or abusive behavior, but each suspect appeared innocent, their alibis providing a strong defense, and none of them really fit the description.

Residents began locking themselves in at night, their evenings filled with unease and terror. Pretty soon, the killer and his murders became the main topic of conversation everywhere. It seemed like everyone was completely shaken up and fixated on the news surrounding the mysterious figure. Even the media jumped on the bandwagon, naming him the 'Shadow Killer,' a name that perfectly captured the eerie and unsettling nature of his attacks.

The baby's shrill cries and soft coos filled the hospital room as Jesse turned off the TV, muttering, "This shit’s crazy" under his breath. Ellie nodded in agreement, her gaze momentarily lingering on the news report before returning her focus to you, holding Dina's bundle of joy with love and care. The thought of having kids had never really crossed her mind, but something about seeing you with the baby, making silly faces to coax laughter out of him while rocking him gently, filled her with a desire to try and another type of desire.

She felt like building a family with you would complete her, despite having said that she considered you her everything and that she needed nothing else. While it was partially true, seeing your maternal instincts kicking in made her feel like everything clicked, like that was the final piece to your marriage and relationship—one she didn’t even know was missing.

A warm smile graced Ellie's face as she observed you interacting with JJ, gushing over the baby boy with a soft voice, claiming he was the most adorable thing you've ever set your eyes on.

“He's perfect, Dee,” you stated for the millionth time.

The brunette chuckled in response, jokingly telling you, “He's all yours.”

Jesse chimed in with a jest, bumping the shorter girl's shoulder “You're next,” earning a puzzled look from her. He cleared his throat and clarified, “First–they’re holding someone’s kid and next thing you know, they're asking for one.” Raising her scarred brows, Ellie scoffed at the teasing comment, but when her crystalline emeralds returned to you, she realized he wasn’t wrong. The sparkle in your eyes as you held the baby, a look that spoke volumes to your wife, who had known you for years. She could see the unmistakable signs of love and adoration on your face and she knew that sooner or later, you were going to bring it up.

She approached you, her heart melting under the warmth of your soft smile, peering over your shoulder to look at the pretty boy in your arms, “El, look at him,” you whispered, gently cradling JJ in your arms.

“He's got Jesse's eyes,” she remarked, studying the little one's features.

Jesse couldn't help but burst into laughter, correcting her playfully, “He looks Asian, you mean.” eliciting a burst of laughter from Ellie.

“Totally what I meant.” she retorted sarcastically.

"Dunno, looks like the baby from the Ice Age movie t'me"

Your Apartment – October 2nd, 2018.

Ever since that “fateful” night at the hospital, you became the only thought that occupied her mind. Sure, she was your wife, and it was supposed to be that way, but there was one specific thought that consumed every cell of her brain. You, pregnant. Pregnant with her baby, your tummy swelling with the precious life growing inside you and your skin radiating a warm, ethereal glow. It was something that played in her mind nonstop, especially during sex. Especially when she was rutting against your pussy.

The thought of your juices mingling together, the thought of filling you up with her essence, was something that didn't seem to want to leave her mind anytime soon. And she couldn't seem to keep her hands off of you, always finding excuses to touch you, caress you, grope you, or even grind against the push of your butt when you were most distracted with chores.

You noticed something inside her had shifted, and on the other hand, she felt like a middle schooler all over again, sex occupying her mind all night, all day like a horny teenager in their puberty. Almost as if she felt the need to claim you and make you entirely hers in every possible way. But you didn't mind. No, of course, you didn't. How could you when she was fucking you so good and hard? How could you mind it when she pounded into you until the early hours of the morning?

"So good with kids...so, so good," velvety murmurs caressed your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of intimate kisses along the length of your neck. You tilted your head, granting her even greater access to explore you. Her fiery, vibrant locks, reminiscent of autumn leaves, intertwined effortlessly with your fingers as you gently pulled her closer.

"Hmmm." A soft, muffled sound escaped your lips in response "Does that turn you on?" Your voice dropped to a hushed whisper, accompanied by a dreamy giggle that found its way to her ears, prompting a smile to grace her lips against your skin.

"Does that turn me on?" She echoed your words with a sultry tone; her voice saturated with desire as she intentionally ground against your thigh. Your hands swiftly drew her nearer, firmly grasping her by the waist, the tips of your fingers danced suggestively along the hem of her Calvin Klein boxers.

"I'll take that as a yes." A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you gently led her to grind against you once more, eliciting a gasp from her as your fingertips tightened on her buttocks. A delicate sigh fell from her lips, caressing you like a gentle breeze, her parched lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a tantalizing shiver down your spine.

"You'd be such a good mama" the words seemed to slip out of her mouth without conscious thought, tangled up in the web of her own fantasies that had been tormenting her for quite some time.

"You really think so?" Your voice was as silky as cotton, a stark contrast to the firm yet gentle grip of your hands on her hips as you guided her increasingly urgent motions against your thighs. Soft, languid moans poured against your neck, planting a trail of heated kisses along the length of your neck, her mouth working with a voracious appetite as she suckled on your sensitive skin like a starving bloodsucker, marking you. A low, sultry hum was all you received from her in response. Your nude skin pressed against her, her clad breasts grazing yours, her hardened nipples stimulating yours through the thin fabric of her black bralette.

"You should put a baby in me."

The words seemed to halt her in her tracks. She leaned back slightly, studying your expression intently, her gaze locking with yours. A playful twinkle danced in her eyes, and a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Amusement and surprise mixed in her freckled-dusted features. "Strip." with a soft but unyieldingly firm tone, her features utterly devoid of emotion except for the subtle arch of her brows, making you break into a fit of giggles.

"Oh? just like that?"

With fervent anticipation, you stripped off the remaining garments still clinging to your body, your eyes intensely fixated on the sight before you. The vision of her adorned in the black strap, one of the numerous items you and your wife possessed, never failed to make your pussy clench, leaving your stomach in knots. Such a luscious spectacle. And you were the lucky girl who got to witness all this. Your body sank into the plush embrace of the mattress as you watched her gracefully position herself between your legs, straddling them. With a tender squeeze of your knee, her other hand gently pressed the tip of the silicone toy against your sensitive nub, sending an electric jolt of pressure through you. The unexpected sensation, even in its softness, coaxed a squirming response from you, your hips instinctively trying to pull away.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured, the tip of her cock rubbing through your folds, her slender fingers coating and preparing her silicone dick with your slickness. She groaned softly, lost in the alluring haze of her own touch, almost as if the toy were an extension of herself “It’s so pathetic how much of a slut you are for me.” Her actions prompted a whimper to escape your lips.

“Fuck you, stop teasing,” you retorted, tinged with a mix of annoyance and desperation, betraying the aching desire that consumed you. The sight of your drenched and soaked pussy made Ellie almost salivate, feeling eager to destroy it and make a mess of you. She loved knowing that even after years of being together your desire for her was burning as fierce as ever. You had never once failed to make her feel wanted, and how could you when she was simply this fine?

A dry, mirthless chuckle slipped out from between her lips as a self-satisfied smirk adorned her features. The soft moonlight delicately highlighted her cheekbones, enhancing her already stunning appearance and making her seem as if she were personally blessed by the moon herself “What, can’t handle a little teasing?” she responded with a playful taunt, she felt her own arousal growing, the back of her strap dampened with her own slickness, feeling a desperate need of friction.

“This is not teasing, you’re just being a little bitch” you pouted, your body arching eagerly as your pussy sought the sensation of her cock stretching you so amazingly. As she abruptly thrust forward, a high-pitched squeal was wrenched from your lips, and your breath caught in your throat. Her expression was a mask of amusement, witnessing your visceral reaction to her every touch, a reminder of the power she held over you.

“What were you saying? Didn't quite catch the last part,” With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she taunted you, her hands gently claiming your hips as she leaned down, her gaze taking in every angle of your contorted face.

“I said-” You attempted to speak once more, but another plunging thrust stole the breath from your lungs, leaving you speechless.

“Yeah, said what?”

“Hmmpphh.” You could feel her going deeper into you, your eyes shut close and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, arching into her, she looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, licking her lips before pressing damp kisses on your jawline and your throat, savoring all the pretty moans and whimpers you gave her.

"So pretty," she murmured, a note of possessiveness lacing her words, "And mine. All mine." She captured your lips in a passionate and messy kiss, her tongue tangling with yours as she continued to slide in and out of you, each movement causing you to moan into the kiss, and she gladly swallowed each one of them. You had taken such meticulous care of her, preparing her meals, doing the laundry, and handling the household chores with diligence that she just felt the need to reciprocate and fuck you as you deserved.

Such a good fucking housewife, she couldn't ask for better.

“Babe, fuuuck,” You cried out, your brows drawing together as her pace intensified. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body writhed in response.

“Want me to get you pregnant you said, yeah?” With a strained, breathy voice, she whispered, each movement meticulously targeted to hit the exact spot inside you that made sparks fly behind your eyelids and your toes curl. You nodded eagerly, a chorus of whimpers and whines escaping your lips “Then you’ll have to take my cock as deep as you can–want you to feel it all the way up in your womb.” she grunted, pushing the strap in as deep as it could go, feeling your walls clench around it. “But you’ll be a good girl and take it, won’t you?” she purred, her lips leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your collarbone and down the valley between your breasts. Unable to form a coherent sentence, all you could manage was an enthusiastic nod in response, which was clearly not enough for her. A slap was delivered to the sensitive flesh of your thigh, causing you to squeak in surprise “Words, mama.” She demanded, completely captivated by your heavenly expressions and the bouncing of your tits.

“Y-yes… ’ll be good,” you babbled out incoherently; the sinful sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room. Each movement, each touch perfectly calculated, your body writhing with each thrust.

“Mmm, fucking love how you take it.” She whispered, her breath coming in shallow huffs as her tongue and teeth worked their magic on one of your sensitive nubs, drawing out strained whimpers from you. Your fingers coiled in her hair, craving the closeness and seeking an anchor in the sea of pleasure that swelled between your legs. Your cunt wrapped around her so perfectly, and she had your legs shaking like crazy—that’s how she knew you were close.

“Gonna fill you up so good, baby.” whispering filthy promises into your ear, leaning back and burying all her length inside your womb, the tip of her fake cock rubbing your g-spot deliciously, making your eyes roll in the back of your head as she ground against the base of the strap, desperately chasing her own pleasure.

“Need your babies, pleaseplease…cum inside me,” you whined, the words catching in your throat as you gasped for breath, wrapping your legs around her waist with an urgent need to keep her close, both of your throbbing clits grinding against the base of her strap.

“Fuckfuck..’m coming.” Ellie’s grunts grew louder, a guttural melody that echoed in your ears. Her head arched back, the muscles in her body trembling and tensing as she slammed her dick inside you, urging you to cum with her

“Ellie, fuuuck.” Your body rocked wildly against hers, the movement becoming erratic as the heel of your foot pressed firmly into her glutes, trapping her between your soft thighs as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Sweet and breathy mewls escaped your swollen lips, your back arching into her almost painfully.

Dr. Diaz was right after all, you just needed to try new things with your wife, explore your fantasies with her.

Typically, she made you feel so good, and you gladly reciprocated the pleasure she gave you, but tonight, the tables had turned. She was solely fixated on making you feel loved and worshiped, determined to pull a fifth orgasm from your worn-out body. Your legs shook uncontrollably, and your core ached from the relentless onslaught of overstimulation, and she showed no signs of slowing down or stopping anytime soon. Your arms were pinned firmly behind your back, the cold, hard steel of the handcuffs digging into the delicate skin of your wrists with a biting force. You twitched and writhed involuntarily, the restrictive hold making you feel helpless and vulnerable; it was driving you insane. It was Ellie's idea, and you cursed yourself for agreeing to try something new.

“Babe, please…let me touch you.” A pathetic whine escaped your lips, quickly followed by a guttural whimper as her calloused hands skillfully controlled your every move. You were growing more desperate each second, yearning to play with those perky tits just lying there, right beneath you. They looked so lonely and neglected, it was such a shame. Rough palms find purchase on the softness of your hips, adjusting and re-adjusting your position to her liking. You struggled vainly against the cuffs, trying to squirm free, but the tight binds held strong, leaving you utterly at her mercy. You couldn’t move, and if you could, you know she wouldn’t let you. You were hers, hers to fuck and destroy like a doll.

A mischievous grin spread across her features, a mixture of pride and amusement, knowing she was the cause of your current state, leaving you deliciously wrecked, her darkened eyes fixed on the milky white ring encircling the base of the black strap, your wetness coating her. “Thought you said you wanted me to fuck a baby into you?” Her voice was husky and strained, the words escaping her lips in a gravelly purr that seemed to vibrate through your very core, your walls squeezing her cock almost to trap her inside.

“I do,” you choked out. “Ellie, please,” you were so fucking desperate. Ridiculously desperate to play with her nipples, touch her, perhaps wrap your hand around her neck, something that she seemed to enjoy, but what she was enjoying the most was the helpless expressions on your face as you looked down at her, pouting. You were always needy and she could easily put you in your place, but this needy? She was sure she had never seen you this desperate. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t touch her, and she was forcing you to ride her because you needed to earn ‘it.’ You needed to earn her babies, needed to earn her cum inside you. In all honesty, it was just a fucking excuse, and who could blame her? the sight of you riding her strap like a fucking pornstar with your hands handcuffed behind your back was everything, it was all she needed.

“C’mon ma, ride me like you always do. Don’t you want me to fill that pretty pussy of yours, hm?” As your hips started to move, taking her in inch by inch, a dry chuckle escaped her throat, her gaze flicking up to meet your pretty tits as they bounced in her face “Just like that…good giiirl,” the praise dripping with saccharine sweetness mingling with the slick, wet sounds of your pussy, the echoes of your moans and breathless gasps filling the room like a lewd harmony. “Needa work for it, princess,” Ellie says, her hands leaving your hips and finding a new home on your boobs; her thumbs danced across your hardened nubs, teasing and flicking them with a ruthless skill that caused you to writhe and squirm in her hands.

“Please, p-please,” you managed to croak out, begging and pleading for her to fill you up with her babies as if she could. You gasped and whined when the black tip of her strap kissed your cervix, going deeper into your womb.

“Take every inch of it, baby,” her words flowed like liquid heat against the delicate shell of your ear as you collapsed into her embrace, completely consumed by her slow yet harsh thrusts, your eyes fluttering shut in blissful surrender.

“Ahhhh-” you gasped helplessly.

“Gonna be such a perfect mama,” She growled, her palms eagerly squeezing your ass before delivering a sharp smack that drew a startled yelp from you.

“Cum inside me,” you quaked into the crook of her shoulder, warm puffs of your breath caressing her freckled skin.

“You dirty little slut, you like that, don’t you?” She let out a husky chuckle, her hand delivering another sharp spank before her firm grip found purchase on your hips, running up and down your soft skin as she guided your movements.

“Mmmhhmmm” you adjusted your position and began to slowly bounce on her cock, ensuring her clit rubbed against the base of the toy, your movements deliberately aimed at eliciting a response from her. Your gaze locked onto the contours of her stomach, entranced by the way each muscle contracted with each painful roll of your hips, causing her breath to hitch in her throat, her chest rising and falling in sharp pants. The soft freckles scattered across her cheeks standing out vividly against the rosy hue, sweat trickled down her scarred brow, mingling with strands of baby hair that clung to her damp skin.

“Look at your fucking—god… your fucking cunt, taking every inch of…hmmm… me” And oh, how absolutely mesmerizing she was when she was right where you wanted her. The epitome of perfection, a fantasy that surely haunted the dreams of many.

“Please, El… wanna cum with you.” You couldn't help the plaintive and slutty whine that slipped past your lips, her breath stuttered and grew ragged, and her hands, firm and sure, set a rhythm on your hips, expertly guiding you with a purpose. Her own slickness soaked the pastel blue cotton sheets beneath her. Your hazy, half-lidded eyes met hers, “Close?” Your voice came out weak and breathless as you looked down at her, your pace quickening as you ground against her desperately. She nodded frenetically; you could feel your climax approaching like a crashing wave, and you desperately bit down on your bottom lip to muffle the whimpers that threatened to escape, knowing it wouldn't be much longer before you came again.

She steadied you with each languid roll of your hips, selfishly using you to get off. Each motion a perfect counterpoint to her own, and you could feel sweat dripping down your bare back.

"Hmmm...I love when you're inside me"

That was all it took. In a single fluid motion, she pulled you closer, sealing her lips against yours in a kiss that was more desperate and unhinged than any before it, coming simultaneously and swallowing every sweet sound you gave her.

Finally, as you came back down to Earth, you collapsed onto her, your handcuffed hands still immobile behind your back.

"It’s okay, pretty, I gotchu," she says, her voice raw and raspy from the intensity of her orgasm. She reached for the keys to the cuffs on the bedside table. You slowly sat up, the toy still nestling comfortably inside you, and she released your wrists from their tight embrace, allowing you to massage the sensitive, bruised skin with a tender touch. With a weary but satisfied sigh, you slowly extricate yourself from her, leaving behind a trail of your essence covering her whole length. You collapsed onto the soft sheets beside her, and she swiftly discarded the strap somewhere on the floor. You snuggled closer to her, your body molding against hers as you kissed her cheek tenderly. Her lips curled upwards in a contented smile, and she gently pulled you on top of her, holding you close in her strong embrace.

“Did so good, princess. I love you.” She placed a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, her heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears as you lay snuggled against her bare chest.

“I love you more,” you echoed back softly.

"Don't forget to leave a 5 star review on the app for the ride-" you couldn't help but erupt into a fit of laughter, your body shaking softly as you gazed up at her.

"God, you're so embarrassing." You gave her arm a playful slap, a grin still spread across your face as you both laughed together.

"Yet you're still riding my cock." Her eyebrows arched upwards, a cocky smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Only because I have to." You rolled your eyes at her

"It’s not like you're being held at gunpoint—fuck me or I'll shoot you. Pew pew," she aimed and fired at imaginary enemies with her fingers.

"I'm dating a fucking kid." You let out a dramatic sigh, feigning disappointment but unable to keep a smile from forming on your lips

“And that makes you a what?” She retorted sarcastically, arching a single brow at you with a smug expression on her face.

“Okay” you replied with a deadpan, “I think it’s your bedtime,” you added in a fake serious tone, making her giggle.

“Nooo, I wanna snuggle,” she groaned in mock protest, her lips pouting as she pulled you closer.

The two of you embraced each other, intertwining your limbs as you whispered sweet nothings to one another. The soft hum of the TV filled the air around you, and the cool night air from the open window sent chills down your spine. Both of you gently lulled into a peaceful slumber.

"This is a news flash update! We have received news of yet another fatal stabbing, this time in a local motel. A 25-year-old woman was found dead in her room, brutally stabbed to death. This is the third murder reported in the last month, causing a great deal of panic and concern amongst the town's inhabitants. Police investigations are currently underway, and residents are advised to take caution and keep their doors and windows locked at all times. Now over to our reporter on the scene for further details."

Your Apartment – October 19th, 2018.

Holding Dina's baby for the first time in the hospital was an experience that felt more like signing a contract with an invisible ink pen. You hadn't realized it then, but the moment your arms cradled JJ's tiny, warm body, you became an integral part of his life and his babysitter whenever the couple was too busy or needed some peace. The trust Dina placed in you was immediate and profound, and you were the first person she called when she needed someone reliable to watch over her precious baby potato.

And how could you ever say no? JJ was an angel wrapped in soft blankets, with eyes that sparkled with curiosity and a giggle that could melt even the hardest of hearts made of stone. Sure, he had his moments of frustration, his small fists clenching in tantrums every now and then, but those were fleeting storms in an otherwise sunny disposition. Most of the time, JJ was a remarkably well-behaved child, a rarity in the world of toddlers.

His tiny hands would reach out for you, his laughter echoing like a sweet melody in the air, filling your apartment. The way he looked at you with pure, unfiltered trust made every impromptu babysitting session feel less like an obligation and more like a cherished opportunity, something you truly enjoyed. And in all honesty, after the diner you worked at was shut, looking after JJ was something that kept you busy and distracted. And a distraction is always nice.

"I'll come pick him up at… is 11 too late?" Jesse asked tentatively, gently rocking his son in his arms. He looked down at JJ, shooting a few silly grins that made the baby gurgle with delight.

You shook your head profusely, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "Absolutely not. You know I'm a night owl," you reminded him with a gentle smile. Your eyes softened as you extended your arms, ready to cradle the potato-shaped boy.

Jesse handed JJ over, his small weight settling comfortably against you. You could feel the warmth of his tiny body through his onesie, the baby-soft skin of his tiny hand brushing against your cheek as you adjusted him in your arms. His dad's shoulders relaxed, knowing his son was in safe hands. "Thanks, you're a lifesaver," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. You simply smiled, looking down at JJ, who was now cooing contentedly, his little hand grasping your finger with surprising strength.

"Anytime," you replied softly, feeling a swell of affection for the tiny being in your arms. His chubby cheeks and his cute tiny hands were the most adorable things in the world. Who was gonna tell Ellie that you wanted a kid now?

“Dina really needs to rest, and I can’t be there to help because of work.” You nodded, feeling bad for the brunette, knowing she was home alone with her son most of the time.

"Tell Dina I said hi," you added as Jesse adjusted his uniform jacket.

"Will do—Ellie's gonna get off her shift at 3 AM," he informed you, his voice tinged with fatigue but still warm, the bags under his eyes said it all; becoming a parent surely wasn’t a walk in the park.

You nodded at his words, then suddenly remembered something. "Oh wait—I almost forgot!" Your eyes widened as you turned your back, hurrying to retrieve a small bag from the kitchen. You returned to the front door, holding the bag out to Jesse, who was now leaning casually against the door frame.

"Oh! What would she do without you?" he exclaimed in a teasing manner, deep down finding the gesture sweet and thoughtful. It was endearing how you always looked after your wife, preparing her meals while she worked tirelessly at the police station, ensuring she wouldn't skip the most important part of the day and that she was well-nourished.

You chuckled at his words. "What would you do without me, actually," you corrected him with a playful smile. "Two chicken sandwiches, one for you, one for her, no tomatoes for you. There's some apples and a few chocolate bars, too,"

Jesse swiftly grabbed the paper bag from your hand and peeked inside. "You're amazing," he said with a grin on his face. "Hope JJ won't be too much trouble," he added, his chocolate eyes shifting to his son in your arms.

"I'll be fine—be careful, alright?" you warned him, your tone turning slightly serious.

He nodded, appreciating your concern. "Always am. See you at 11," he said, turning around to walk away from your doorstep, the bag of food swinging gently at his side.

You spent the whole evening with JJ, you dedicated your time to caring for the baby boy. You carefully prepared his meal and then proceeded to give him a relaxing bubble bath, hoping the latter would make him somewhat sleepy and ready to go to bed. Little plastic ducks floating on the surface add a whimsy touch to the whole scene. Suddenly, your phone rang, breaking the peaceful atmosphere. With JJ cradled in the bathtub, you quickly reached for your phone, ensuring your free hand was dry after patting it with the folded towel placed conveniently within your reach.

“El?”

“Hi baby,” her warm and affectionate voice flowed through the speaker; you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and joy.

A soft smile graced your lips, “Hey gorgeous,” your voice was filled with a playful tone, and the sound of Mr. Potato giggling could be heard in the background.

Her voice was husky as she asked, “How’s it going?”

“Oh, y’know, just giving stinky-boy a bath.” The endearing nickname that escaped your lips elicited an uncontrollable, joyous laughter from the pretty boy. Despite being just a baby, his insatiable curiosity and discerning intelligence were truly impressive, definitely something he hadn’t inherited from his dad. The infectious giggle emanating from the baby brought a warm chuckle from auburnette. “How’s it going for you?” you took the chance to ask back.

“Jus’ stuck with paperwork while Jesse gets all the fun tasks.” Her dry lips parted slightly, releasing a barely audible, airy exhale. “Sucks you’re not here with me,” she added

“Sounds pretty homophobic if you ask me,” You quipped with a charming grin, though she couldn't see it. “Should be sitting on your lap right now.” Ellie let out a low sigh, her breath hitching as your words sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. You knew it didn't take much to get her worked up, and perhaps it was the memories from last night that made her even more susceptible to your tease

“Yeah. I’ll be home in four hours.” A soft huff escaped her lips, a subtle sign of her growing impatience and yearning for your touch

“I knowwww,” You drawled, switching your phone to speaker mode as you carefully lifted JJ out of the bath and wrapped him snugly in a warm, fluffy towel. Soft giggles and coos echoed through the room, “I’ll stay up for you,” you told her

“You must be tired, you should go to bed earl-”

“No,” you adamantly insisted, your tone unyielding “I miss you”

“Miss you too,” she responded swiftly, her tone matching yours

“See you soon?”

“Alright, mama, I'll see you soon.” she exhaled. “The sandwich was delicious, by the way,” Ellie adds, gratitude resonating in her words

A proud grin spread across your face as you replied cockily, “You’re welcome,” savoring the compliment on your cooking skills. She had always appreciated it immensely when you cooked for her, and she never wasted a chance to lavish compliments on your culinary skills. God, if she loved you more than anything.

“Love you.”

“Love you.” And with that, you ended the call.

You couldn't help but gaze adoringly at the little burrito in your arms, wrapped up in a beautiful pastel blue towel. The tranquil, content expression on his face spoke volumes of his relaxed state, a peaceful lull radiating from his tiny form. “Daddy’s gonna pick you up soon, let’s get dressed, yeah?” you cooed affectionately, tracing the bridge of his little nose with your index finger, inciting a gummy grin from the cutie as he batted his long lashes at you. You retrieved the bag Jesse had left at your place a few days ago, it was crammed with everything a baby might require and a few extra outfits for JJ. You changed him into a charming giraffe-patterned pjs and wrapped him cozily in a small blanket. Just as you finished, the doorbell rang, signaling Jesse's arrival.

“Howdy!” Jesse stood at your door, visibly exhausted. Wordlessly, you gestured for him to enter the disorganized apartment. His weary eyes immediately settled on the baby in your arms, noting how JJ's eyelids appeared heavy and threatened to flutter shut at any moment. The newborn had been keeping him and Dina up for nights on end, and on top of that, his demanding job had further drained his energy. The stress was evident in his drawn features, making it clear that the past few days had taken a toll on him.

“He was an angel,” you softly told him with a gentle smile.

“Oh really?” his voice held a hint of amusement as he raised his brows in disbelief, marveling at how your description of JJ as a 'complete angel' contradicted his own experience. He couldn't tell if his little one was behaving so well out of genuine good nature or if you were exaggerating the truth a bit cause he could sure be a little troublemaker with him and Dina. “Glad he wasn’t much of a fuss,” he chuckled tiredly.

“I already gave him a bath and all; he’s ready for bed,” you informed him, and he nodded in acknowledgment.

“Thank you, y/n. I owe you one.” A weary sigh escaped his lips. “Mind if I go to the toilet real quick?” he asked.

“No, sure. go ahead”

A subtle change in Jesse's demeanor was evident as he reappeared moments later. His eyes flickered away from yours, and a tense, forced smile adorned his face, giving the impression that something was troubling him.

“You good?” You questioned him, carefully placing the sleeping bean in his arms to avoid waking the little one. A hint of concern tinged your voice as you attempted to discern the reason behind his anxious demeanor. He was fine just a minute ago.

“Yeah, yeah. just tired, is all,” he responded evasively, leaving you to raise an eyebrow in skepticism, but you decided not to dwell on it.

He must be tired, you thought.

Jesse tenderly held his son, cradling him in his strong, protective arms “Thank you again for watching over him”

“I told you, it’s no bother, he’s such a cute kid,” You responded fondly, gently caressing the baby boy's soft, round cheek as he rested contentedly in his father's embrace.

“Alright, have a good night,” he gave you a faint smile

“You too, Jess.” You remained at the doorstep, leaning against it as you watched him leave, his silhouette gradually fading from sight.

When Jesse returned home, he cautiously unlocked the front door, cradling a sleeping JJ in his arm. As he entered, his gaze fell upon Dina, softly snoring on the couch, her mouth slightly parted in peaceful slumber. He watched her for a moment, a tender smile on his lips as he appreciated the sight. Closing the door gently so as not to wake her, he approached her, his footsteps silent on the floor. Seeing her there, asleep as she had waited for him, filled him with warmth and love.

“Honey, I’m home”

The Police station – October 27th, 2018.

Jesse rubbed his eyes with the rough palms of his hands, longing to be home with his family. He absorbed the animated discussions among his colleagues, who were fervently speculating about the identity of the elusive killer. With no substantial evidence to support their theories, their efforts felt akin to chasing a phantom. The killer had a remarkable ability to erase all traces, executing each action with meticulous precision.

“What if he's not left-handed and is good with both hands?” As one of the individuals engaged in the discussion took a contemplative sip of his steaming coffee, Jesse's gaze meandered over to the clock adorning the pristine white brick wall.

2:26 AM.

He should be home, in his bed.

He continued to endure the ceaseless barrage of hypothetical scenarios conjured up by his colleagues. Normally, they wouldn't have been included in such sensitive investigations, but they were frustrated and exhausted from pursuing an elusive individual who appeared to never make any mistakes. There had to be something, but no. No fucking slip-ups.

“The slit starts from right to left, meaning he slayed the first victim—Vanessa—using his left hand,” The woman in her forties leaned back in her swivel office chair, gesturing towards the raw pictures they had taken of the first victim as she explained the details to her coworker.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t add up—Giselle Caddel,” he countered by swiftly sifting through additional files and photographs to substantiate his theory. “See? Left to right.” he softly tapped his index finger on the images and the text printed on the pages that held every necessary information.

The woman let out a frustrated sigh and absentmindedly hummed to herself as she examined the pictures and the papers for the millionth time “Okay, maybe he is dominant with both hands,” she conceded, agreeing with his hypothesis. But again, it didn't make sense how the third victim had been brutalized, shot with an unknown weapon, leaving them with more questions than answers. The lack of registration for the gun only deepened the mystery, leaving them lost on how to proceed.

“Why do we assume we're going after a guy?” Jesse suddenly spoke up, drawing puzzled looks from all his colleagues, who had nearly forgotten he was even there. They gazed at him with a mixture of confusion and surprise, unsure if they had just heard something absurd or brilliant. He couldn't discern the thoughts racing through their minds. But he couldn't help but wonder… was it truly inconceivable for a woman to be capable of committing such a brutal act of violence?

“What are you implying?” dirty blonde brows arched inquisitively, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What if it’s a woman we should be looking for?” he elaborated

“A woman?” She responded with a mix of surprise and mock disbelief, her voice laced with a hint of humor. “Everyone claims they’ve seen a man at each crime scene before the murders occurred,”

“But they’ve never seen ‘his’ face, have they?” He replied with heavy sarcasm, making air quotes while emphasizing the word 'his.'

“Ma’am, we don’t have proof that it is a man,” another coworker pondered the situation and concurred with Jesse's theory.

“He’s too brutal, too raw, too strong. A woman can’t be that strong,” she stated, still skeptical. The detective's thoughts raced through possible motives for the brutal murders. It was difficult to fathom how the female perpetrator could commit such heinous crimes without any apparent remorse. Could there be a common connection between the victims, such as… a shared romantic history with the same individual? The officer's mind was filled with questions, struggling to understand the motivations behind the cold-hearted acts. she pondered, the sinister theory making her stomach turn uncomfortably.

“Adrenaline has that effect on everyone,” he stood his ground, refusing to back down from his idea. The room went silent as the towering blonde woman abruptly stood, drawing a deep breath of air into her lungs.

“You might be onto something,” she declared firmly, her voice carrying a hint of authority. Without further elaboration, she turned and strode out of the investigation room, leaving the officers to grapple with the weight of her words.

He leaned back, feeling the tension ease slightly as she disappeared from view. Perhaps, just perhaps, they were finally on the right track. But even then, uncertainty lingered in the air. They needed tangible evidence, something concrete to confirm their suspicions.

Jesse’s House – November 6th, 2018.

The chill of the night still lingered in the air as Jesse's eyes snapped open, his breath quickening as remnants of a brutal nightmare clung to his consciousness. A sense of disorientation washed over him, but he quickly gathered his bearings, the familiar sights of his surroundings grounding him back to reality.

He was home, he was safe. He mentally reassured himself

Turning his head ever so slightly, he beheld the tranquil scene before him. Dina lay peacefully beside him, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm, a serene expression adorning her sleeping face. JJ, nestled between them, let out a soft snore, blissfully unaware of the world around him, tiny hands curled into fists.

With utmost care, Jesse shifted, his movements slow and deliberate as he extracted himself from the warmth of the duvet. The soft material whispered against his skin, a comforting presence in the quiet of the night. As he sat up, a sense of protectiveness washed over him, a silent vow to safeguard the fragile tranquility of the moment. Every rustle of fabric, every creak of the bed frame was muffled by the hush of the night, a sacred stillness enveloping the room like a cocoon. Jesse's gaze lingered on the precious sight before him, the love he felt for his family swelling within his chest; he felt so grateful for them, he would've done anything for them.

He lovingly tucked his wife into bed, her arm instinctively reaching for him in her sleep, seeking the warmth of his presence as it slowly slipped away. Jesse quietly padded to the kitchen, the soft sound of his footsteps barely audible in the stillness of the night. Glancing at the clock, he noticed the time and let out an exhausted sigh, the back of his hand moving to wipe the beads of sweat from his forehead. Opening the cupboards, he reached for a glass, the cool touch of it bringing a sense of relief as he filled it with fresh water, his mouth feeling as dry as the Sahara desert.

It was only 4 AM.

He quickly downed the glass of water, the cool liquid quenching his thirst, before placing it on the granite countertop. This was his usual routine. He was fortunate if he managed to get four hours of sleep, but more often than not, it was only three before he would wake up, haunted by vivid nightmares of the killer, unable to fall back asleep.

As he strolled his way to the living room, he couldn’t help but notice the pillows strewn across the floor and JJ’s countless plush toys scattered in every corner. Dina had a habit of showering JJ with toys, much to Jesse’s bemusement. He didn't need all those toys; a few were sufficient, and most of them were left unused. There was one particular elephant plush that caught the baby boy's attention. He seemed to be incredibly attached to it, never leaving it alone, carrying it around everywhere, and if he ever misplaced it, he would throw a tantrum until Dina found it.

The living room bore silent witness to their daily chaos. JJ’s little kingdom, with plush animals ranging from lions to bears, was a vibrant display of color against the muted tones of the furniture. Jesse picked up a few toys, absentmindedly placing them back in their basket.

He sank into the worn, stained couch, feeling the dampness of the fabric from the water JJ had accidentally spilled earlier. The gentle, barely perceptible hum of the refrigerator filled the air, creating a soothing backdrop to the faint sounds of the city beginning to stir from its slumber. He leaned back, his thoughts drifting. Those were the moments when his mind just wouldn't stop buzzing with thoughts. The relentless pursuit of a cunning killer had started to weigh heavily on his mind, leaving him feeling utterly powerless.

He felt like he was letting everyone down–his family, Dina. It absolutely infuriated him that he couldn't do more to protect them. Especially now that JJ had arrived, his paternal instincts seemed to kick in and his desire to protect his family had intensified, amplifying the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He let his eyes drift aimlessly around the room until they settled on his laptop resting on the scarred coffee table. It was at that moment that a sudden realization popped into his mind.

The missing hard disk.

Jesse’s mind raced as he remembered that day, the rush of events blending together in a haze. He had been at your place and gone to the toilet when he spotted the hard disk tucked away on a shelf. Something about it had struck him as odd. It wasn’t just any brand; it was the exact match to the equipment used at the crime scene. His heart skipped a beat when he realized the potential importance of what he had stumbled upon. He was sure it was just a coincidence 'cause why would you have it? Why would you be possibly hiding it?

It didn't make sense.

He wasn’t proud of slipping it into his pocket, a pang of guilt gnawing at him for doubting you even for a second and for stealing from you. But his instincts told him it was something worth looking into. Now, as he sat there on the couch, the memory of that discovery resurfaced with a new urgency. Something seemed to scream at him to check it, go through all the files, if it had any. So, he got up to grab it from his desk drawers in the small room that Dina had turned into a cozy office just for her husband. It was his own little space, off-limits to everyone else.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, the late-night quiet amplifying the soft clicks as he navigated through files. His hands slightly trembled as he connected the drive to the laptop. The screen flickered to life, and he began sifting through its contents. The hard disk had been gathering dust in his desk drawer for weeks, forgotten in the whirlwind of everyday life. But now, the potential it held was too significant to ignore. What secrets did it hold? What answers might it provide in the tangled web of this investigation?

With a deep breath, he clicked on the first file, hoping it would shine a light on the darkness they had been chasing for so long.

The last files were recorded the same day of the murder.

Jackpot.

He eagerly clicked on the very last file, skipping through a few hours, fast-forwarding past the mundane bustle of customers and staff. His eyes were glued to the timestamp, searching for the crucial moment. The diner’s atmosphere, usually so lively, felt eerie and heavy through the security camera's lens as if it held its breath for the impending doom.

Minutes ticked by in a blur of motion, the clock on the screen edging closer to the time he knew everything changed. Jesse’s fingers ghosted over the keys, ready to pause at any sign of something unusual. The familiar faces of regulars came and went, oblivious to the dark shadow about to come.

And then, there it was. The whole truth.

He watched the video, his eyes never leaving your grainy silhouette. The footage played out silently, no audio, no nothing. He saw the woman with the kid leave the diner, and Vanessa picking up the tip from the table as you stayed behind the counter. His heart pounded in his chest, the anticipation gnawing at him.

Moments later, the mysterious man walked in, his face obscured by a hood, just as you had described. Jesse's pulse quickened, a sense of foreboding creeping up his spine, "There he is..." he mumbled to himself. The man's movements were deliberate, his presence unsettling even through the grainy footage.

When the man left, Jesse's focus shifted back to Vanessa as she walked into the back room. You swiftly made your way to the front door, turning the sign to ‘closed’ and locking the doors with a practiced motion. His eyes followed you intensely as you walked back behind the counter, your actions precise and unwavering.

There was something almost poetic in the way you moved, a quiet determination that made his breath hitch. He watched as you retrieved a knife, the gleaming blade catching the dim light of the diner. With a sense of purpose, you followed Vanessa into the back room.

"No, no, no, no," he kept whispering over and over again, like some sort of prayer.

Jesse's mind raced, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together—it all felt surreal, as if he were watching a scene from a movie rather than real life.

The footage left him cold and shaking to the core. He felt a knot in his stomach. How could the woman he once knew as a kind-hearted soul be a serial killer? How could he have trusted a killer, a psychopath, all along? Fear rippled through his veins as he realized the danger he had exposed his son and wife to. He knew he had to act to bring this evidence to his team, but he needed to get Ellie first.

She needed to get out of that goddamn house immediately.

Without a moment to spare, he grabbed his jacket and his gun and swiftly left his home. He then drove hastily to Ellie's place, frantically calling her repeatedly, but she never picked up even though he was sure she was off her shift and definitely home.

“Ellie? Fuck, Ellie, answer your fucking phone! You home yet? You need to get out of there, man. Pleas-” His voice quivered, his clammy hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. His nerves were palpable as fear and anxiety coursed through his veins

“Please, if you’re listening to this, get out of that fucking house, don’t tell y/n anything. She’s not who you think she is. She is extremely dangerous. Call me ba-” Jesse's frustration heightened as the beep signified the end of the voicemail, “FUCK” he shouted, slamming his hand onto the steering wheel.

Your Apartment, 5:06 AM – November 6th, 2018.

When he finally arrived at the apartment building, he quickly bounded towards the door, rapping against it frantically. Ellie opened the door, a puzzled expression on her face. Jesse sighed, relief washing over him as he saw Ellie safe and sound.

“My fucking god, are you–are you alright?” his tone was agitated as he spoke, though Ellie appeared confused, chuckling softly in response.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, scarred brows arched in confusion as she struggled to comprehend the reason behind her friend's agitated demeanor, making an unexpected appearance at her doorstep at such an ungodly hour

“Look, we gotta go, you’re not safe” He urgently grabbed her arm, attempting to forcefully pull her out of her house but she was quick to snatch her arm away from his grasp, her annoyance evident.

Surprise, concern, and annoyance colored Ellie's face as she exclaimed, “What’s gotten into you, dude?”

Your wife is a serial killer, he wanted to shout at her, exposing you for the monster you were, but he knew better. He knew that Ellie would struggle to believe him if he presented it bluntly, attacking what she cared about the most, so he needed to tread carefully and it felt like walking on legos, not even eggshells. He couldn’t risk Ellie getting mad at him or, even worse–shutting the door in his face. If something happened to her, the guilt would haunt him forever.

“You have an idea of what time it is?” Her emeralds darted towards the clock on the living room wall for a brief second—nearly 5 am.

“Look, we don’t have time for-” he began to speak, suddenly struck silent as his friend turned around for a fleeting moment “Is y/n home?” He inquired with a concerned expression, his complexion noticeably paler than usual. His hands trembled as he nervously peered over Ellie's shoulder, desperate to catch a glimpse of you, but the auburnette blocked his way, shaking her head.

“No, why?” Her voice was calm and composed, a stark contrast to his agitated and tumultuous tone

“I’ve been calling you, where the fuck is your phone?”

“It died,” she responded curtly, running her fingers through her hair, a thoughtful expression crossing her face, lips pressing together. “Wanna explain to me what the fuck are you on?” her hands were firmly placed on her hips; her attentive eyes fixated on Jesse's agitated state—the furrowed brows, clenched fists, and the restlessness emanating from him. Pretty unusual.

“We need to go; I’ll explain everything on the way,” his voice tinged with a mix of desperation and urgency that Ellie had never heard from him. He tugged at her sweatshirt, but she didn't budge, retreating a step backward, distancing herself from him. She let out a deep sigh before reluctantly acquiescing to his request.

“Let me get my stuff first,” she said, disappearing inside, leaving his restless figure waiting on the doorstep.

He waited and waited and waited, the minutes stretching into what felt like an eternity. With each passing second, a gnawing sense of unease began to take hold. "Ellie?" he called out impatiently, his voice slicing through the silence, but there was no response.

"Ellie?" he tried again, louder this time, the name echoing eerily through the empty apartment. Still nothing. He let out a shaky exhale, feeling the tension coil tighter in his chest. His hand hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open wider, revealing more of the still and silent space. "Fuck," he mumbled under his breath, his pulse quickening. Reaching for his gun, he stepped inside cautiously, every sense on high alert.

The living room was eerily quiet, devoid of any signs of life. He moved through it slowly, each step deliberate and measured. His eyes scanned the room, searching for any clue, any hint of where his friend might be. Nothing. His gaze flickering to the pictures hanging on the wall, captured moments of joy and celebration, memories of your wedding day, now seeming almost like relics from another lifetime.

“...Ellie?” he called out again, his voice softer now, almost a plea. The word hung in the air, unanswered, as he continued his careful sweep of the apartment. He checked the kitchen and the bathroom—his mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. It was as if Ellie had simply vanished into thin air. His grip tightened on the gun, the cold metal reassuring in his hand, the silence almost oppressive, pressing in on him from all sides.

Just as he made his way back to the living room, standing in the center of the room, trying to think clearly, a loud thump reverberated through the hallway, and before he could react, his body crumpled to the floor. Lifeless. Blood began to pool beneath him, a dark and viscous river flowing from the neat, round hole between his eyes.

You were humming a soft tune as you turned off the water, stepping out of the box shower and reaching for the towel hung nearby. The bathroom air was cool, and the contrast with your damp skin made you shiver, goosebumps rising in a wave across your arms and legs. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as the chill settled in.

You froze momentarily, ears perking up when you heard the unmistakable sound of the door shutting loudly from the living room. It wasn’t a sound you were expecting, and a flicker of unease sparked in your chest.

Did she leave the house without telling you?

Quickly, you wrapped the towel around your body, the soft fabric absorbing the droplets that still clung to your skin. You could feel them running in rivulets, leaving trails down your back and legs.

Leaving the bathroom, your bare feet left wet footsteps on the floor, as you made your way towards the living room, you began to hear strange, muffled noises—something between a rustle and a low murmur. Your heartbeat quickened, thudding loudly in your ears. The apartment was usually a sanctuary, but now it felt different, charged with an unfamiliar tension.

“El?” you called out, your voice tentative as it broke the silence. You listened intently, but heavy silence was all you got in response.

It was only when you stood by the doorframe of the living room that you saw her knelt down on the floor. You found yourself unable to move, every muscle tensed as if you were being turned to stone by the piercing gaze of Medusa herself. Her eyes were ice cold, piercing right through you, as Jesse's body lay lifeless at her feet. The sight of his still form and the pool of blood around him made your stomach churn.

Ellie stood abruptly, her movement sudden and jarring. Your smooth forehead creased into a furrow, the lines forming a delicate map of concern, both of you staring at each other without daring to say a word. The silence stretched out, thick and suffocating, each heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears. Your grip tightened on the towel, knuckles white with tension, as you stepped forward

“Right on the fucking rug?!” you burst out, your voice raising slightly. Ellie winced, the sharpness of your tone cutting through the tension.

“Baby, I’m sor—” she began, but you harshly cut her off, marching closer to her, careful not to step on the warm crimson liquid staining the fluffy white rug.

“You better fucking scrub that shit clean,” you snapped, pointing your finger at her, eyes narrowing. Your gaze shifted to the lifeless body of Jesse, lying awkwardly with a dark, spreading pool beneath him.

Despite the gruesome sight, you felt a strange calm; you knew there was a reason behind her actions; there always was. And you trusted her to death, so no questions were asked, the only thing that bothered you was the thought of having to throw away your favorite carpet of the house.

Ellie nodded vigorously at your demand, her face a mask of determination. You could see the guilt and resolve warring in her eyes, but you knew she would handle it.

“Look,” she mumbled, her voice steady as she knelt down, reaching into Jesse’s jeans pocket. She pulled out a small hard drive, leaving bloody fingerprints on it.

“Ah shit,” you cursed, snatching it from her stained hands. The tiny data storage device felt deceptively light in your palm, its importance weighing heavily on your mind. “Wonder when he stole it,” you mumbled, turning the hard drive over, examining it closely.

“He had always been a sneaky little bitch,” she hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. She kicked his thigh, her pretty features scrunched up in anger. The casual violence of the gesture made your skin crawl, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jesse had been a liability, a snake in the grass.

“Do you think he told anyone else?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Fear flickered in your eyes, the thought of getting caught sending a wave of nausea through you. You couldn’t risk that; no, no, you couldn’t.

Ellie shook her head, reassuring you, “he came here as soon as he found out—left a bunch of voicemails,” she explained. You exhaled slowly, a weight lifting from your shoulders. Relief washed over you; no one else would find out. The bond between you felt stronger than ever. She had always been there for you, protecting you no matter what, hiding evidence you clumsily left behind.

You stood by her side, looking down at the mess she had made. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. Both of you were lost in your own worlds, your thoughts racing in different directions, her mind already strategizing the next steps while your own thoughts swirled in another direction.

“I really want a baby” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop them, a soft pout forming on your lips. She turned towards you, her face breaking into a brilliant smile that illuminated the dimly lit room.

At that moment, her emerald eyes shimmered with a newfound glimmer, a blend of delight and astonishment that took your breath away, feeling a fluttering in her stomach. “Fuck- are you forreal?”

You nod your head slightly, unable to contain the matching smile that formed on your own lips “Yes, I thought abou-” you started to explain, but before you could finish, bloody hands moved in a swift motion, pulling you closer by the waist.

Her lips pressed against yours, the kiss urgent and full of emotion. You melted into her embrace, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her even closer. Your fingers tangled in her ember-hued locks, the softness of her hair contrasting with the gritty reality of the moment. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the overwhelming sense of connection and the shared excitement of a future you both wanted. Ellie's grip on your waist tightened, her hands staining the pink fabric of the towel still wrapped around your body.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, you rested your forehead against hers. The room around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared dreams and possibilities.

No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be

The only one for me is you, and you for me

So happy together-

"Alexa, shut it," you commanded, pulling a giggle out of Ellie, her cheeks heating up with a pink hue that only added to her beauty. Your thumb gently stroked her cheekbone, and her slender fingers reached out to teasingly play with the towel still clinging to your body, their silken touch sending a shiver down your spine as they danced along the contours of the soft fabric.

"I was thinking…" she began slowly and sultrily, a mischievous smirk adorning her face, "How about we keep tryin’ for that baby?" Her tone was innocent, almost as if she were asking you to play a simple game of cards.

"You spoke my mind," you replied, pressing a quick peck on her smirk. Her hands quickly moved down to your butt, making you jump in her arms and wrap your legs around her waist.

Your soft giggle was interrupted by her lips once again, kissing you passionately, and her hands, strong yet tender, held you securely. You could feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric and the cool air of the room contrasting deliciously with your heated skin, making you shiver. Her lips moved with an urgency that matched your own, she was starved, she needed more.

You pulled back for a breath, your foreheads resting together. Her eyes, filled with love and desire, searched yours. "I love you," she whispered, her voice husky with emotion.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I love you more."

With a shared laugh, she carried you towards the bedroom, your bodies intertwined and hearts beating in unison, falling in love with each other all over again.

No one would ever come between you, and no one would ever know what had happened here. Ellie had your back, and you had hers. Always.

I can't see me lovin' nobody but you

For all my life

taglist: @aouiaa

2K notes · View notes

luveline · 5 months

Note

oooh what about a lil blurb about bombshell r and spencer where it's the first time in their relationship that one of them is super sick and the other has to take care of them?? if you're feeling up for it ofc!! love u jade <333

ty for requesting<3<3 fem, 1k

“I’m sicker than a sick dog. I’m half cough.”

Spencer frowns at his phone where it lays on speaker at the breakfast table. “You are? What kind of cough?”

“It’s awful, I can’t tell you. You’ll stop loving me.”

Spencer smiles even though he wants to grimace. He told you he loved you a few days ago, and you hadn’t said it back, but you certainly hadn’t stopped liking him. You’re more obsessed with him than before, he’d argue. It’s a great feeling, almost as good as an I love you in return would’ve been.

(He doesn’t blame you for not saying it. You’ve been officially dating for less than a month. He shouldn’t have said it, only he’d been lying in your bed about to go to sleep with your hand in his and he’d never felt anything like it, not home but safe, not home but comfortable, and so so wanted.)

“I don’t think that’s true,” Spencer says.

“I’m gonna order some soup I think. What are you gonna do today?” Your voice is thick like you can’t breathe through your nose, but still yours.

“I’m gonna put my shoes on and come see you, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

It’s a no brainier. “What soup do you want, Y/N?”

He says your name like a compliment. You laugh down the line, which turns into a cough, and a pained moan. “Any kind of soup, babe. You’re really gonna come and see me?”

“Someone has to take care of you. Ideally me.”

“Too right.”

When Spencer gets to your apartment thirty rushed minutes later, you’re already worse. He knocks on your door and you answer with a hand covering your face, your breath audibly shallow. “I forgot that being sick makes you ugly.”

Spencer takes your wrist in his hand kindly. “Nothing can make you ugly. Come on, let me see.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I!”

You aren’t pretty, you’re stunning. You’re gorgeous. You’ve been the most beautiful woman Spencer’s ever seen since the moment he saw you, not just because of your looks, of which you take great care, but because of your heart, how kind you’d been to him and continue to be. Your confident personality has never once made you cruel. He couldn’t say the same for most people, so you could have snot running down your lips and a zit the size of Quantico on your forehead and he’d still think you were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

“Come on,” he says again, “I know you’re still beautiful.”

You let him pull your hand down, unveiling your puffy eyes and chapped nose. “I don’t know how I got sick so fast.”

The tote bag he’d brought with him slips into his elbow and pulls down his sweater sleeve as he grabs your shoulder. “You said you looked ugly.”

“I do!”

“All you do is lie.” He gives you a small smile. Am I doing this flirting thing right?

“I wanna kiss you so bad.”

Your audible heartbreak is convincing. “I’ll still kiss you.” His desperation is even more evident than yours. “I’d love to kiss you.” Even if it’s usually you who kisses him.

You close your eyes and lean in for a kiss at the same time. Just one kiss, firm for a millisecond, no parting lips or tongue to be seen but just as good a kiss as any other. Spencer must’ve had about thirty of them now, yet a kiss from you never feels real.

“I’ll look after you if you get sick,” you promise, pulling away.

He was counting on it. He hates germs, hates being sick, but he loves you. Whatever happens is out of his hands.

You seem a little unsteady on your feet, now Spencer’s looking at you. You’re wearing loose white pyjamas with blue flowers, and on your feet you have a pair of shoes somewhere between slippers and boots, brown fabric with fluffy white insides he’s seen you sporting on the jet from time to time when you’re at your most achingly tired.

You look adorable and tipping. He eases out of his shoes, sliding the bag of tinned soup, crackers and about seventy dollars worth of cold medicine onto the sideboard so he can put his hand under your arm.

“Let’s go back to bed,” he says, wrapping you in a supportive hug.

“Forward,” you tease.

You shouldn’t. Spencer thinks about intimacy with you and goes insanely pink everytime, though you’re far from new to one another. He especially doesn’t wanna think about it as you cross your room and flop down into bed with a tired sigh. “Come lay down?”

“I’m wearing jeans.”

“Did you sit down on the subway?”

“No, I drove here.”

“Come on, Spence. Your germs are fine.” You smile at the ceiling as he sits down at the top of your bed. “You drove here? You hate driving.”

“It was quickest.”

You drop your head into his lap. Your breathing is laboured.

“You okay?” he asks you.

“Just missed you.”

“I brought you some stuff. Vapour rub and decongestant spray, painkillers, vitamins, everything.” He leans down as he wraps his arms over your front, a promise to look after you. “Try to take a deep breath, angel,” he advises sympathetically. “You sound really out of breath.”

“Too much standing up.”

“Standing up can be good for you when you’re sick. It stops you from getting idle diseases and bed sores, and walking is even better for you if you can manage it, it helps unclog your sinuses.” He finishes his fact, and he looks down at you all poorly in his lap, remembering very quickly how lucky he is to have found someone who listens. You didn’t interrupt. You wouldn’t have even thought about it, he’s sure. “But no more standing up or walking around. I’m gonna get you anything you need. You’ll be better in no time.”

You give him your own grateful smile. “Thank you.” You scrunch up your nose.

“Are you gonna sneeze? I got balsam tissues.” The damage to your nose has already been done. “Do you have any chapstick? We’ll rub some on your nose to stop it from getting any drier.”

Your wrinkled nose worsens. “Thank you for coming to look after me,” you say weakly.

He wants to say you’re his best friend in the whole world, but you’re more than that now. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly, ducking down to plant a kiss near your eyebrow. “I always want to look after you. This is just the first time you’ve let me.”

You smile contentedly, your voice falling to a whisper. “Will you tell me you love me again?”

Spencer doesn’t think he’s in any position to deny you. “I love you,” he says truthfully. “Thank you for letting me come over.”

You turn your face into his arm. “Thank you for wanting to, handsome.”

#spencer and bombshell reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds

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maplesyrupsainz · 7 months

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˖⁺｡˚⋆˙MY girl | LN4˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: lando norris x celeb interviewer!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship

warnings: a couple of innuendos/sexual references but mainly fluff

summary: in which your job has your boyfriend acting up every other week

a/n: this is kind of short but didnt think it was necessary to make it any longer!?! hope u luv it (i love jealous lando omg my heart cant take itttt)

request!!!: Lando’s gf is a celebrity interviewer like Amelia from chicken shop date and Lando is supportive but also playfully jealous?

fc: amelia dimdoldenburg

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername 📍 london

liked by aitch, landonorris, and 1,718,293 others

yourusername spent a day in london with my fav british rapper @.aitch !! episode out now hope u enjoy 👀

tagged: aitch

view all 18,284 comments

user1 OMG he was flirting with her so bad

user2 no fr she got a man

user3 yea and her man is LANDO NORRIS likeeee

user4 why are they lowkey cute together.....

user5 i love everything y/n does

user6 does anyone else only watch the series just for y/n idec about the celebrity guests 💀

user7 no coz this is actually so valid

user8 omg i've been waiting for this one

user9 queue lando marking his territory soon

user10 can u blame him

f1wags

liked by user4, user5, user9, and 43,761 others

f1wags new episode of y/n y/l/n's celeb interview series with british rapper aitch out now 🫶 for anyone who doesn't know, y/n (wag of lando norris) is a celebrity interviewer for events & tv as well as having her own series online in which she “dates” someone for the day, usually in a random city of their choice, and interviews them at the same time in a comedic way !!! the series is super popular, who would you like to see her interview?

view all 5,174 comments

user11 we love her

user12 her interviews r sooo funny and unserious

user13 i want her to interview f1 drivers 😭

user14 omg rightttt imagine lando on there

user15 i want oscar or charles 😂

user16 i didnt even know she was a wag

user17 she's more relevant that her bf HE's the wag

user18 justice for my guy lando

aitch

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 853,903 others

aitch watch me on y/n y/l/n's series for real like that's my girl

tagged: yourusername

view all 12,284 comments

user19 damn

user20 his girl?!

user21 y/n looks so hot

user22 look like a couple fr

yourusername had the best time, thanks for coming on the show!!!

aitch anything 4 u

user23 🤭🤭🤭

user24 CUTIESSS

user25 one of my fav episodes so far

twitter ->

instagram ->

landonorris posted a story

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 822,182 others

user30 omg i screamed

user31 SHE'S SOOO HOTTTT

carlossainz55 somebody's jealous

landonorris of what?

carlossainz55 😂

user32 lando norris you are one lucky man

yourusername omg hello mr protective

landonorris my girl

yourusername you are freaking sexy

landonorris where are you right now

yourusername 👀

landonorris

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,021,843 others

landonorris hey

view all 33,826 comments

user33 "HEY"????

user34 omg

user35 HOTTTTTT

carlossainz55 still not jealous?

landonorris not sure what you're talking about!

user36 you caused this @.aitch

aitch nah

landonorris no

yourusername 🙂

user37 posting this with this caption is criminal

user38 hahaha our jealous boy

user39 little lando norris is jealoussss

yourusername hahah i love you and only you

yourusername posted a story

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 713,028 others

landonorris yup. that's MY girl

THE END 🧡

#f1 #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #smau #f1 fic #f1 imagine #lando norris #ln4 #ln4 smau #ln4 x y/n #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #lando x reader #maddie's smau

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roosterforme · 1 month

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets the update he's been waiting for. You get something you weren't expecting. Neither of you can tell the other how you're feeling.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You drove Bradley's Bronco back to his house, dragged yourself back inside, and climbed back in bed. You cried so hard when you watched him carry his duffle bag into the airport, you had painful hiccups for twenty minutes afterwards. Now you were emotionally drained and on the cusp of a headache, and this was only the first day.

With your cheek on Bradley's pillow, you pulled the covers over your head and took a few deep breaths. He didn't know much about his deployment, but the communication blackout was designed to keep you from learning anything. If something happened to him, it might be weeks before you heard about it. Your heart ached as you thought about how lonely he was going to feel after he made it a point to tell you how much he loved getting mail from your class last time.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you scrambled to get it out.

About to take off. I love you, Gorgeous. I'll let you know when I land.

Well, you had about six hours to kill until you would hear from him again, which felt bad enough. Then seven full weeks after that. You typed back to him with fresh tears in your eyes, and then you tried to sleep, but the hiccups came back. When you moved to the couch, it felt too cold. You were tempted to call Natasha, but if you couldn't even make it a handful of hours without Bradley, you didn't think she would be able to help you.

It would start to get better. It would have to. When your winter break ended, you'd be back in your classroom with your students. You could dive into your lesson plans for the new year. You could focus on teaching. You could do this. Because if you found out the hard way that you couldn't, then you had no business being with Bradley.

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

Bradley was given a tiny room in the barracks on base in Norfolk, and he spent the entire night talking to you on the phone. Literally six hours straight before he passed out, sound asleep, hanging halfway off the bed with his phone connected to the charger. One of the last things he remembered you saying was, "As soon as you know if it's San Diego or Norfolk, let me know. I love you."

The following morning, he was so exhausted, he was practically dizzy as he met with his commanding officer, Admiral Walker, for this new special deployment. Even his arm felt heavy as he saluted Walker in his office. It was barely seven o'clock which equated to four in the morning in San Diego, and he knew it would take him a few days to get caught back up on sleep at this point. But every second of talking to you was worth it.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw. Welcome back to the Atlantic Fleet," Walker told him, gesturing to the empty chair in the office.

"Thank you, Sir," he replied, even though he was far less than thrilled to be back in Virginia at all. The prospect of a change of station could not have come at a worse time when he spent the flight from California looking at engagement rings on his phone.

As Bradley sat down, the older man said, "We never wanted to lose you to the Pacific in the first place, so I'm sure you can understand why you'll be staying on the east coast after your seven weeks on the Gerald R. Ford is complete."

His heart sank to his feet, and he felt like he was going to throw up. "Sir?" Bradley asked. "That's it? There's no chance of me returning to North Island?"

When the response he got was a raised eyebrow, Bradley pressed his lips into a line. This man wasn't going to give a shit that he owned a house in Coronado or that he was in love with the most beautiful woman in the world who happened to work in Mira Mesa. Something told him that keeping his mouth shut was the better option right now, even though he felt like punching a hole in the wall and flipping the desk.

Walker shuffled some papers on his desk. "Plans still need to be finalized, but it is our goal, and the goal of the US Navy, to change your station to Norfolk."

The words echoed in Bradley's mind. He couldn't decide if he should tell you about this yet. It wasn't like he had signed paperwork in his hand. Until he did, as far as he was concerned, he was going back to Top Gun and the love of his life. He knew you were stressed and concerned enough as it was, and he didn't want you to have to dwell on this unless it was finalized.

"Once aboard the carrier, mission details will become available to you and the other aviators," Walker informed him. "I have a folder with your bunk assignment and some more information that you can take with you right now. You'll have access to your phone for about another hour, but as soon as you report to the carrier, it will need to be shut down and locked up. Are we clear, Lieutenant?"

Before Bradley could even respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Walker heaved a weary sigh as his gaze left Bradley's face, and he barked, "Come in."

Of all the faces he knew from North Island, Bradley wasn't exactly sure if it was a friendly one, but when the door opened, Admiral Simpson came strolling inside in his service khakis. He couldn't fathom why his meeting was being interrupted by Cyclone, but he sat quietly with the folder in his hands.

"Admiral Walker," Beau Cyclone greeted, voice as stern as ever. "You never returned my calls, and red eye flights the week of Christmas are not something I find endearing."

Walker stood behind his desk with all of his accolades hanging on the wall behind him, and Bradley jumped to his feet as well. "Admiral Simpson," Walker replied, voice dripping with disdain. "There was no need for you to fly out in person to release your pilot to my fleet."

Bradley could hear Cyclone's knuckles crack as he watched his eye twitch. He was somehow caught in the middle of this, but it looked like the Top Gun admiral was in no mood to be outmaneuvered and lose a member of his team. Bradley silently goaded him on while he stood there completely still.

"I'm not releasing anyone to you. That's not how this works," Cyclone barked. "If you can't manage your fleet, you don't get to poach from mine."

The admirals seemed to be in a competition to see whose face could get redder. "Admiral Simpson, I'm sure you'll find my rank alone is reason enough for-"

"You do not outrank me," Cyclone interrupted, voice loud but calm. Then he turned toward Bradley with his jaw clenched and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw. You are dismissed. Please board the USS Gerald R. Ford on time for your deployment."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, saluting both men before walking back out into the hallway on slightly unsteady legs. He paused, hoping to hear some more of their conversation or an outright blow up that would give him a clue as to what the fuck was going on, but instead he walked the rest of the way to the barracks to collect his duffle and head to the docks.

With his phone in his hand once again and his bag slung over his shoulder, Bradley called you. He knew it was early and he'd be waking you up, but time was tight now. And your voice was the only thing that would keep him sane at the moment.

"Bradley," you sighed a second later, and he pressed his phone tighter to his ear.

"Baby, I miss you so much," he promised, heart aching. He swallowed hard and decided not to bring up anything that was going on since he didn't have a completely clear understanding of it himself. "I'm about to board the carrier."

He could hear you crying, and he wanted to kick himself. "Just come back safely. That's all I want. As long as you're safe, that's all that matters to me, okay?"

He was having a hard time keeping his own tears at bay. "Me, too. We'll figure out the rest of it later, Gorgeous. Take care of yourself. Write in the journal. And don't forget to check the mail."

"I love you, Bradley!"

"I love you so much."

As soon as he ended the call and turned off his phone, he had to walk through a small building for security screening. It was there that his bag and phone were taken from him. When he exited the other side, his duffle was handed back to him, but his phone was not.

"Sorry, Lieutenant," the petty officer told him with a shrug when he glared. "I'll tag it for you and return it when you get back to Norfolk. At least it's not a long deployment."

Bradley couldn't even argue with that. It wasn't that long in the grand scheme of things. He'd been overseas for a full twelve months at a time when he was younger. This should have felt like nothing, but he knew it would feel like the worst one. He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder and started to head for the bunk that would be his for the duration. There was no sense in standing on deck when there was nobody who would be looking for him to see him off.

He made it down two hallways before a loud voice echoed off the walls around him. "Lieutenant Bradshaw." When he turned, Admiral Simpson was heading his way, face so red it was almost purple. Bradley's heart sank.

"Yes, sir?"

The other man pulled his composure together, sighing like an angry bull. "While you will be under the command of Admiral Walker for this deployment, you will fly directly back to San Diego when you return to port in Norfolk. You'll be presented with the paperwork today."

Bradley's jaw dropped open. "I'm returning to the Pacific Fleet, Sir?"

He got one firm nod in response. "I told you last week that I would do what I could to retain you."

This was honestly the best case scenario, and Bradley could feel some of his tension melt away. "You weren't kidding," he mumbled before clearing his throat. "Thank you, Sir. Being in San Diego is important to me."

"Fly safely, Lieutenant. See you in seven weeks," Cyclone barked before turning on his heel and walking toward the ramp back down to the dock.

Bradley pumped his fist in the air. "Fuck, yeah," he whispered, spinning on the spot. He would get to go back to the station he preferred in North Island as well as his friends, but most importantly, he would get to return to you. There would be no stress of packing and moving and hoping you were still willing to come with him. He could stay in Coronado.

When he slid his hand into his pocket to get his phone out to call you back, he froze. "God damn it."

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

If waiting for emails and letters was bad before, this was torture. The early days of getting to know Bradley through written notes left you with constant butterflies in your tummy, but now it felt like you were walking around with a lead weight instead. You constantly caught yourself reaching for your phone to text him before setting it back down in frustration.

You hadn't heard from him since before he stepped onto the aircraft carrier, and that was four days ago. Today was New Year's Eve, and at least you had the wine bar with Natasha to look forward to. While you got dressed and ready to go, you couldn't help but put in just the bare minimum amount of effort. What was the point when your boyfriend wasn't even here to give you kisses along your neck and call you Gorgeous? You pouted at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and put the cap on your lip gloss before even using it.

"You look nice," Nat said as you climbed in the front seat of her car. You turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm wearing Bradley's old sweatshirt with a pair of leggings that are starting to get a hole in the crotch."

She started cackling as she pulled away from the curb. "Well, you still look nice."

"Thanks," you said softly, watching the houses go by.

As Nat turned toward the highway to head up to Oceanside, she asked, "How are you making out?"

You pressed your lips together for a few seconds, trying to make sure you weren't going to cry. "I'm just having a hard time being off from work while he's gone. It's... harder than I thought it would be. I can't wait to return to my classroom in a few days."

"I'm sure that will make it easier," she agreed. "You'll be so busy, time will start to fly by. Oh, I forgot to ask if you got any interesting mail at Bradley's house since he left?"

You shook your head. "I barely remember to check the mailbox most days. Why?"

"Don't worry about it," she replied smoothly. "You'll be back to work in a few days, but in the meantime, we've got merlot and chardonnay to keep your mind occupied."

"Sounds like you're talking about two hot French men," you said with a laugh.

"I could be! You don't even know!"

Now both of you were laughing. And you were still laughing when you actually did order a glass of merlot and a glass of chardonnay. You and Nat enjoyed some wine flights and cheese platters, and she regaled you with stories about Bradley from flight school.

"When he was twenty-two, he probably weighed a hundred and twenty pounds," she said with a smirk. "He was such a nerd, too. God, it was so bad." You were trying to stifle your laughter as she added, "Once he really started working out and grew the mustache, he thought he was hot shit. He's still a fucking nerd."

"He kind of is," you agreed through your giggles.

"But he's a good one," she promised. "Wears his heart on his sleeve too often, but I don't think he has to worry about you breaking it."

You ran your hand along the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Never."

Once the two of you were filled with cheese and sober enough to get back in the car, you paid for your adventure with the gift card Bradley gave you, only to find out it had five hundred dollars on it.

"Natasha! We need to come back like four more times," you said as you signed the slip.

"I don't see any issue with that," she muttered, leaving cash for a tip. "I think I'll write Bradley an email and thank him for funding girls' day so he can read it when he gets back to Norfolk."

"I think he'd like that."

You started thinking about the journal sitting on the nightstand in his bedroom. Every night before you fell asleep, you'd been pouring your heart and thoughts out into the thing, but even the mention of the word Norfolk had you fretting again. You managed to keep up the conversation with Bradley's best friend as she drove you back to Coronado, but perhaps you should keep most of your things packed after you moved your stuff to his house. What if you had to move to Virginia when the school year ended?

"Thanks for driving," you told her when she pulled up to Bradley's driveway to let you out.

"Anytime," she said, waving you off. "We'll go back up again soon." When you leaned in to give her a hug, she told you, "Don't forget to check the mail."

"Okay."

You weren't sure exactly what her deal was since Bradley couldn't send you anything, but if she wanted you to, then you would. You already promised your boyfriend you'd keep an eye on anything unusual that arrived, so as you walked up to the front door, you took a peek inside the mailbox. Empty. Just like the house. You curled up on the couch with the journal and started to write your daily entry.

I heard from a very reliable source (Natasha) that you were and still are a nerd. I'm going to need to see some pre-stache photos of you when you get home. Your best friend is a wealth of information when you get some wine in her, and I had a great time with her today.

But I miss you. So much. Sometimes it knocks the breath out of my lungs. Your house is too cold and quiet without you here, hogging the couch and eating snacks. I'm looking forward to school starting up in a few days. It'll be a little less lonely when I have eighteen kids telling me what they got for holiday gifts. Of course I'll have to tell them they won't get a visit from their favorite aviator for a while. We'll just be nineteen sad pen pals.

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

On January second, you were working on your lesson plans while wearing Bradley's gym shorts and eating potato chips. Tomorrow you'd get back into a routine with work, but first you were going to allow yourself one last day of being kind of pitiful. You bit off more than you could chew with Bradley, and now you were paying the price.

You sporadically started crying at random times throughout the day, and it was only made worse by the overwhelming feeling of being alone. If you could barely make it a week without hearing from him, how were you going to make random deployments with no communication your lifestyle? Why did you even think you could?

While you were crunching your way through some potato chips, you heard something thump on the front porch. The sound made you jump on the couch, and you set your snack down on the table and crept to the front door. When you peeked outside, there was nobody there, but when you cracked the door open, you saw a box. A fairly large box. Addressed to you.

"Oh my god," you gasped. It was from Bradley. According to the date stamped next to your name, he somehow sent a box from the post office in San Diego last week. "Oh my god!"

You grabbed it and kicked the door shut, almost tripping on your way back to the coffee table. When you tried to claw at the tape, you almost broke your nails. "Scissors," you shouted, running for the kitchen drawer by the sink where your boyfriend kept a random assortment of junk. Then you walked quickly back to the couch and started to cut into the box.

Natasha had to be behind the arrival of the box, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be inside. If Bradley wanted you to have something, he could have simply given it to you before he left. Your heart was pounding as you set the scissors down and looked inside.

"Bradley," you gasped, tears filling your eyes as those familiar butterflies zoomed and swooped around in your belly. You'd been so upset about missing out on his letters, he sent you a whole box of them. There were dozens of envelopes and little treats filling the box nearly to the top, but a neon orange envelope with OPEN ME FIRST written on it caught your eye. You pulled it out of the box and tore into it.

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'm thinking about you right now. Guaranteed. It doesn't matter when you get this box or when you read this note, I'm thinking about how much I love you. And if I'm asleep, I'm dreaming about us eating Thai food on the beach in front of a sunset that is nowhere near as beautiful as you.

I hope you realize there was no way you weren't going to get some letters from me while I'm deployed. I would never let that happen. Somehow, you fell in love with me this way in the first place, and more than anything, I want you to feel as loved as I do. So I filled this box with little notes and long, rambling love letters and things I thought you might like. When you read the individual envelopes, you'll know what to do.

Please fill that journal up for me. I can't wait to read it in seven weeks. I'm missing you like crazy, and I selfishly hope you're missing me just as much. I love you.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

With shaking hands, you set the note down on the orange envelope and swiped at your tears. You never dreamed you would meet a man this romantic, but somehow you did, and he became your boyfriend. "Oh, Bradley," you whispered, picking up a stack of envelopes and reading what was written on each one.

Open me when you've had a bad day

Open me when you really want some coffee

Open me when you need a laugh

Open me when you're in bed

Open me when you need a girls' night

Open me with your class

You flopped down onto the couch and kicked your feet in the air. "Bradley!" you shrieked, voice breaking as you started to cry. You hugged the letters to your chest and let the warm feeling of being loved wash over you and fill your heart. He was unbelievable. He was perfect. He was everything you wanted. And somehow you loved him a little more and missed him a little less with this box on the coffee table.

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

He's so romantic. He's taking care of Gorgeous from afar! He's coming home to San Diego, but she doesn't even know it! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @daggerspare-standingby

PART 21

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695 notes · View notes

mischievousmoony · 1 month

Note

hi, ok i have another idea for a fic which again totally up to you to write!! but i had an idea with dad!james and r where their kid is like equally obsessed with their mum as james is with r and one day james decides to prank their kid by saying something bad about the r while their kid is present and the baby just goes off. i feel like you would do an amazing job with this! feel free to ignore too. have a perfectly splendid day!!

-🪷

"the baby just goes off" painted a hilarious picture of an infant yelling at his dad in my mind lmao. ty for the request this warmed my heart to write + special thanks to @moonpascal for chatting a little about kids, gave me the reassurance & inspiration i needed

𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜

⟢ dad!james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 1.1k ⟢ warnings/tags: fluff, dad/husband!james, mom/wife!reader, no use of y/n, no name for the son, idk how to write a child's dialogue tbh son's supposed to sound 4 years old

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

James gladly goes out of his way to mention to anyone who will listen that his little one is unmistakably a Mummy's boy. From family to friends to the poor souls who bag his groceries, James will talk the ear off of anyone he can.

He finds it to be the most endearing thing in the world— the way that your son is as obsessed with you as James is. Always staying close and clinging to you, touching affection radiating from every hug and smile.

Today, as he watches his son run back and forth across the carpet, handing his mother block after block just to see her face light up after each gift, his awe and admiration are insurmountable.

Last night, James surprised you with a pair of earrings that you have been wishing for. When your face lit up upon receiving the little leatherette box, so did your son's. He didn't quite understand why you were so excited about some cube, but since then he's been trying to replicate your excitement with presents of his own.

"Oh my! Another one! Thank you, buddy," you beam, you're gratefulness and delight unwavering as he hands you the sixth block.

Your son giggles, bouncing in his spot as you inspect each side of the little wooden toy, telling him how much you adore the blue penguin painted on one of its faces.

That's another thing that touches James' heart: the tender nurture and care that you bestow upon your son with such unwavering devotion and warmth. It has James convinced that you must be the best mum in the entire world.

He might just melt at the sight of you now, kneeling happily in front of a growing pile of blocks as your son scurries back and forth, adding to your collection. James sits cross-legged to your right, resting his elbow on his knee and laying his head in his hand, watching the two he loves most in the world with hearts in his eyes.

You gasp, as if surprised when handed block number seven. "Oh, this is my favorite one yet. How did you know I love zebras?" you ask, your thumb tracing over the red acrylic paint on the side of the block.

By the time you have twelve, nearly half of his collection, you say, "I have a lot of blocks here, buddy, do you want to give some to Daddy?"

"No!" your son protests immediately, running off to his toy box for the thirteenth time.

You and James both chuckle, exchanging amused glances. Finding your son's reaction hilarious, James’s mischievous side has him dreaming up new ways to push his buttons. Your son thinks the world of you, and James is curious to see what the little guy will do if he claims otherwise.

"Well, what am I gonna do with all of this? Should I..."

You leave your son in suspense for a moment, and his hands hover over his toy box as looks at you, hanging onto your every word in anticipation.

"...build a castle!?"

“Yeah!” your son cheers, scooping three more blocks into his arms, thrilled to supply the bricks for your castle.

James nudges you, a sign of his upcoming playfulness. “You sure about that, bud? Mummy is absolutely rotten at building castles.”

Halfway across the carpet, your son stops in his tracks, glaring at his father as he tries to keep his blocks from falling out of his arms.

Stifling a laugh, you press your fingertips to your lips. By now, you’re used to James’ bursts of mischief, and you’re more than happy to sit back and let them play out. Unless you’re an active participant, of course.

You muster up a scandalized gasp as he reaches for your mountain of presents, claiming three blocks in one hand.

“No!” your little one complains, rushing to drop his three in your lap to replace the ones that James stole, “those are Mummy’s!”

“You sure Mummy deserves all these blocks?” James asks, starting to stack them into a tower, “You watch, I’ll build a castle that’ll make her’s look like rubbish.”

Your son hastily makes his way over to his dad, both arms extended as he collides with the tower and sends the blocks flying. "Stop it," he says as he scoops up the nearest block and runs it back over to you, shouting, "Mummy's castles are the best!"

He climbs into your lap, clutching onto the toy tightly as one of your arms wraps around him, and you feel your heart start to melt as you rub soothing circles into his back. You look over your son's head, your eyes sparkling with affection as you meet your husband's tender gaze.

Not having the heart to mess with him for very long, James concedes, "You're right, I'm not being very nice, am I?"

"Nuh-uh!" your son replies, shaking his head with exaggeratedly vigor, the curls he gets from his dad bouncing about.

"What can I do to make it up to her?" James asks, turning the ordeal into a subtle lesson as he dramatically feigns sorrow and despair over his actions.

"'Pologize," your son commands, his head swiveling to look at James expectantly over his shoulder.

James puts on his most sheepish, apologetic smile, looking from his son to you. "I'm very sorry. He's right, your castles are the best. Can you forgive me, love?"

"Aw, of course I forgive you," you say warmly, your amusement manifesting as a wide smile. You lean back so you can get a good view of your son's face when you tell him, "You know, I bet what Daddy really wants is to build a castle with us. I love your presents, bud, but we don't want to leave Daddy out do we?"

He looks down at the block in his little hand. "No," he replies shyly.

"So why don't you ask him to build a castle with us?" You give him a pat on the back before releasing him from your arms. "Go on," you coax.

He steps closer to James, holding the block close to his chest. "We can all build a castle," he offers.

"Yeah?" James' face lights up, and it's not for show. Genuine joy takes over his features as he ruffles your son's hair, responding, "I'd love nothing more, little man."

"But you have to be nice to Mummy!" he demands, his little voice firm and earnest as he looks up at James with wide, serious eyes.

"I promise, I will be on my best behavior," James assures him, his voice sincere as he gives a playful salute. That's enough for your son, because he finally awards James with his very first block, which he accepts with pride.

"Good!" your son cheers, already moving on to the pile of blocks to start stacking them as he proclaims, "Mummy is the best, and we have to show it!"

Your lips part as you suck in a breath, a quiet gasp. Receiving your son's affection never fails to make your heart swell.

You don't feel James' eyes on you, but he's watching— admiring, more like, as he takes in the way that you soften at your son's sweet words. A smitten smile plays at his lips as he agrees, "She is the best, isn't she?"

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

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peachsukii · 2 months

Text

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ hearts in the sand

content // tooth-rotting marriage fluff. talks of children hinted at. inspired by this TikTok. ((the Olympian who lost his ring in the river in France)) and happy softie sunday! <3

wc // 0.8k

『 k.bakugo masterlist | caramel & champagne series 』

It’s a quiet night at home, a kitten in your lap with a cup of tea and your favorite reality TV show to wind down the evening. Your phone begins buzzing on the couch repeatedly with rapid fire notifications, startling your cat from his slumber and interrupting your show. Annoyed, you finally pick it up to silence the notifications until you see the multiple headlines that catch your attention.

“Dynamight Saves Dozens But Loses Precious Item”

“Dynamight Loses Treasure on the Beach during Villain Fight”

“…the hell?” You mutter aloud as the sound of heavy footsteps approach the front door before it swings open. Bakugo’s got his mask tucked up into his hair, beads of sweat running down his temples and dripping from his jaw. He’s still fully dressed in his hero attire, huffing frantically while accidentally slamming the door behind him.

“Is…everything okay?” You ask, confused and somewhat frightened. Phoenix jumps from your lap and moves to the opposite side of the couch.

“I…I fucked up,” Bakugo pants, hand on the wall to steady himself. “M’sorry, peach. It was an accident.”

“What was?” At this point, you assume he killed someone and is about to ask you to help him bury the body. “Spit it out, Katsuki. You’re scaring me.”

He sighs before wiping away the sweat from his nose, head hung low with a frown on his face. “I lost my wedding ring.”

Oh...That’s it?

“It’s alright, we can get another one.”

Bakugo’s taken aback by your nonchalant answer. He’s not one to lose things, especially extremely important ones that he’d crawl through hell to keep. He gives you the typical ‘hah?’ reaction, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

"Sweets...I don't want another one, I want that one."

You shake your head while tossing your phone back onto the couch. “It’s not like you meant to lose it, you’re a hero. Shit happens, it’s out of your control.”

"I should'a been more careful. Dunno how the chain broke and fell out of my costume."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," you say as you get up from the couch. "It's not like you tossed it in the ocean on purpose."

Bakugo scoffs. "How stupid could I be?! Already can't wear it on duty cause of my quirk, and nothin' will replace your handwriting etched inside it." He starts rambling, getting too worked up to notice you getting closer. "What kind of husband can't even keep track of his wedding ring? A shitty one, that's who. God, if I didn't⎯"

You cut him off with a soft kiss, arms gently wrapped around his waist. He melts into you, hands instinctually settling at the small of your back to keep you close. All the anxiety evaporates at your touch as his shoulders deflate. When you part, he lays his forehead against yours, eyes softening when they meet your own.

"Katsuki, you are the furthest thing from a bad husband," you scold, playfully pinching his side while maintaining eye contact. "Never, ever, say that again. You're the epitome of my perfect husband and that's all that matters."

It never ceases to amaze Bakugo just how quickly you defuse his insecurities and replace them with sweet nothings that make his heart flutter.

"I've got an idea that you might hate," you say, bringing a hand to his cheek. "Why don't I toss mine in with yours? That way they're together. Then, we go ahead and renew our vows like we wanted to and buy new rings together."

Speechless.

Bakugo is actually speechless.

He goes to say something, but each time, comes up short on how to properly express how much it means to him that you'd do something so drastic to make him happy. Instead, he tugs you into a tight embrace, squeezing you tighter than usual.

"Peaches, ya don't have to do that," he whispers over your shoulder, hushed and emotional. "Don't want you to risk losing somethin' so special just cause I did."

"I know it's sentimental, but it's only a material thing. My love isn't tied to one piece of jewelry, Katsuki, it's tied to your heart. You can't replace that, no matter how many rings we rotate through."

How'd he get so lucky? Bakugo truly doesn't know what good karmic deeds he's done to deserve someone as angelic as you, but he never takes it for granted.

"Got another idea," he says, pulling back to look you in the eyes. "Keep that one here, save it for a rainy day for the future. We renew our vows, get new rings together, and I get my ring finger tattooed. Can't lose that."

"Only if I can, too." You laugh, giving him an exaggerated kiss in response. "Save it for the future, huh?"

Bakugo blushes, grunting shyly as he rolls his eyes. "Y-yeah, you know...could give it to our kid or somethin' in the future for themselves or to give away."

"Aww, love when you get all mushy about the future," you tease, pulling his face down to leave a peck to his cheek.

"Just love you, peach. S'all it comes down to."

He's right, that's all it comes down to at the end of the day; love.

((general idea for the ring tattoos <3))

⇢ subscribers; @sunflowers-4 @sweetloveandaffection @sugurei @jenn-majima @bkgpackets @notnightmarefuel

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #soft bakugo #soft bakugou #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugou fluff #✩.rei writes #✩.caramel&champagne #reis softie sundays

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tyunni · 7 months

Text

┈➤ I LIKE YOU SO MUCH!!! (when ENHYPEN like you...)

enhypen masterlist | library

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff! warnings: i'm not sure if any specific gender is mentioned but keep in mind i do tend to usually write fem!reader, enha r kinda losers, mentions of being drunk in jakes part, isnt proofread so if you see any mistakes.... oh well! wc: 2.6k+

a/n: good lord, i haven't written anything in MONTHS so i'm a bit rusty 😭 i started writing maknae line first im p sure you can tell i put more effort in them and then i started getting tired, sorry😭😭😭

☆ — LEE HEESEUNG

who would've thought the cool, the chill, the awesome lee heeseung would end up being such a loser. a lovestruck, foolishly in love loser.

your fingers lightly grazed his hand when you walked past him in the hallway today, a touch that lasted a mere second, yet heeseung's heart exploded, and so did his friends' group chat when he boasted about your interaction like you had just asked his hand in marriage. he knows being lovesick is lame, but so what?! he can't help that he melts into a pink puddle of adoration whenever you make small talk, or when he closes his eyes an image of you pops into his head and makes his palms feel sweaty. yes, he feels his knees go weak at the mere mention of your name, and he's willing to endure his younger friends teasing him every time they spot you hanging out with your own group of friends.

so what if you're the only thing on his mind every second of his day. it's completely normal to make playlists for your crush, giggle, and roll around in your bed when you let the lyrics sink in and fill your head with the thoughts of the one you desire.

it's also totally normal of him to write down little compliments on a piece of paper and put them on your desk when you're not looking. he giggles like a little girl when you open the note and read not even a third fraction of what heeseung truly thinks of you and wishes to tell you one day. his smile grows wider when you finally read the initials written on the note, LHS, and you look over to his desk with your cheeks dusted pink, widened eyes looking into heeseung's.

(rest of the members under the cut!!)

☆ — PARK JONGSEONG

jay is very fond of you, he accepted that quite quickly. you're cute. he likes cute stuff, that's something new he has discovered since he started to fancy you.

"jay, are you serious?" - riki turned towards the older with a blank face, tired of his friends new shopping addiction, - "you have like 4 hello kitty stuffed toys in your bedroom, you don't need another one."

ah, innocent, naive riki. he doesn't know having a crush makes one forget about any form of rationality and make every decision without giving it another thought. jay is the number one victim of the 'everything reminds me of them' disease, he feels every wrinkle of his brain smoothen whenever he thinks of you, so it's not a surprise that he can't control his hand as he swipes his credit card and buys himself another plushie with a lovestruck grin on his face.

"are you even listening to me?" - the younger complains, jabbing jay's arm with his elbow to get at least a little reaction out of him. if anything else but you were on jay's mind this would've worked and he would've scolded riki by now, talking his ear off about how annoying he is, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes at his childishness. but it doesn't work.

"you're such a cheeseball, y/n has made you soft, jay, she's ruining you!"

but riki's words fall on deaf ears the second jay's eyes land on another cute stuffed animal that had reminded him of you as he grabs his friend's arm roughly and drags him into yet another store.

☆ — SIM JAEYUN

oh, he's down bad. jake would do anything for you. yes, even walking all the way from his house to the party you were at just to pick you up and walk you home, making sure you reach your house safely.

you called him in the middle of the night, the buzzing of his phone waking jake up. he groaned at the brightness of his screen flashing his newly opened eyes, yet at the sight of your name he rubbed the sleepiness off them, quickly picking up your call.

"jake, i'm drunk!"

and that's all it took for him to jump out of his bed and run towards his destination. surely enough you were waiting outside for him, a big smile growing on your face at the sight of him.

sure, he was extremely tired and out of breath, his voice was still groggy from waking up around 10 minutes ago, the cold, chilly night yet to have its effect on him and wake him up completely, yet he still let you ride on his back when you started complaining about how your heels hurt your feet.

you had been talking to him about something, even though you had no idea what you were saying with the way your words were slurred, your voice muffled by his jacket. jake was nodding his head, humming after a few sentences to make sure you knew he was listening, even though he didn't know what he was listening to. you started off by talking about the party, and somewhere along the way you got lost in your own words and so did jake. his soft hums and the steady rhythm of his feet lulled you to sleep, and when he felt your eyelashes close against the nape of his neck, your breath falling onto his skin as your cheek rested further upon his shoulder is when he finally let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, stopping in his tracks to close his eyes and think to himself:

"fuck, i love her, don't i?"

☆ — PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is desperately in love with you. he can't help it, butterflies swarm his stomach when he thinks about you, a sheepish grin makes its way onto his features when you talk to him, his eyes dart across your face every chance he gets so he can burn every second spent with you right into his memory.

"sunghoon, do you think this looks good or should i try on the blue sweater?"

to be completely honest, even if you wore a trash bag he'd think you looked gorgeous, and he hadn't been paying attention to any outfit you had shown him so far, your smile which grew wider with each compliment he gave you the only thing on his mind.

"you look beautiful, y/n."

"oh, come on, sunghoon! you've been telling me this about every outfit!" - you groan, yet a grin is still plastered on your face at his sweet words, "you have to help me!"

sunghoon tries, he really tries to hold himself back. his teeth sink into his tongue in hopes of biting back the words that were about to slip out, yet they still do. and so does his little secret.

"it's not my fault i'm in love with you!"

☆ — KIM SUNOO

sunoo is a sweet guy. everyone likes him: the teachers, the students, his friends, and complete strangers. his smile is contagious, his face is soft and beautiful, his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and he's kind, helpful, friendly. who wouldn't like him? well, you, apparently.

it's not that he's intrigued by your cold attitude towards him, he's simply determined to make you like him just like everyone else. it's quite difficult to get to know you though, you don't speak to anyone except a select few. if your friends don't come to school you usually sit alone, either mindlessly scribbling in your notebook, or sleeping. you always have that look on your face. one of pure boredom, uninterest, that "why are you even talking to me" face.

sunoo thinks it's stupid. how could you not be thrilled to talk to the people around you? how is it even possible to not want to get to know everyone, to grow your circle, have new people to talk to and share experiences with.

you know who sunoo is. everyone knows who sunoo is. when he walks past you down the hallway he's always waving at someone, stopping in his tracks a few times to have a little small talk, then quickly picking up his pace once the bell rings so he gets to make it in time for class. it doesn't matter if he's late though, the teachers adore him like he's their own son, and he hasn't gotten a single second of detention. sunoo has the sunshine privilege. that's unfair. you don't like when things are unfair. you don't like the sunshine privilege. you don't like sunoo.

so you avoid him.

but he somehow still finds his way back to you.

"she totally hates you, dude, get over it," - sunghoon groans, shoving another loaf of bread into his mouth, and threatening to shove some into sunoo's mouth so he stops talking about you for the fifth time today.

"but why?! i didn't even do anything to her, i tried talking to her every single day since she moved here, i'm nice, i'm helpful, i'm a great guy, what am i doing wrong?!" - the younger boy whines into his palms, head buried in his hands, trying to come up with a way to win you over.

one of his other friends chimes into the conversation, taking a seat in between his friends and playfully wrapping his arm around sunoo, - "it's okay, man, there must be a way to get your little crush to like you!"

sunoo whips his head towards the boy, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that you'd think they'd merge into one another any second. - "heeseung, it's not a crush!"

sunghoon chuckles at his oblivious friend, - "is too!"

"... is it?"

you are kinda cute. your attitude, although not sunoo's style, makes you look even more adorable. you have pretty lips too, although you're always frowning. he thinks you'd look better with the corners of your lips turned upwards though. he wants to see you smile. he wants to make you smile. he wants to make you his.

☆ — YANG JUNGWON

jungwon thinks he's a pretty chill guy. he's always been levelheaded. most of the time he's the only levelheaded person in the room, to be completely honest. he knows what to say and when to say it. although he resembles a cat, the saying "cat got your tongue" had never applied to him. so why is he standing in front of you, his crush, ready to have his very first conversation with you, without a single word coming out of his mouth?

"oh, hey! jungwon, right?" - you ask, sending a soft smile his way.

you know his name. you know his name. you know his name.

"huh? yeah... i'm jungwon. um..." - his confident smile fades instantly when it really sinks in that he has no idea what to say to you. he always knows what to say, how could this happen to him?! this is ridiculous. if he weren't standing in front of you right now he'd slap himself in hopes of rattling his brain somehow.

your eyebrows furrow at the awkward silence taking over, - "do you need anything, jungwon?"

his name falls past your lips so gracefully that if hearing you say his name followed with the three words he wants to say to you the most means he must sell his every worldly possession, he will. but he can't tell you that. he can't tell you how pretty your eyes are either, he can't tell you that he wants to hold your hand, or wrap his arms around you and keep you in his warm embrace for a little while. or how he wants to bury his head in the crook of your neck and bask in your warmth, or that you're the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on and it'd be an honor to take you out on a date. yeah, he definitely can't say that.

"you're the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on, it'd be an honor to take you out on a date..."

it's over. he's a goner.

the way you twiddle with your fingers at his confession goes completely unnoticed despite his big round eyes growing wider at his own words. he's too far gone to see how a warm smile had made its way onto your face.

"sure, i'd love to!"

it's not over. in fact, it's just getting started.

☆ — NISHIMURA RIKI

riki is quite good at hiding his crush on you, considering how the overwhelming feelings have such a weight to them that he's sure his heart doubles at the mere mention of your name to make room for the intense emotions that'll start kicking in. you two aren't dating, although he wishes you were, and you're most definitely not best friends. he knows you, you know him, you think he's nice, he thinks about you every second of every day, y'know, the usual...

"riki, hey!" - you push through the crowd of students walking around a narrow hallway that could only be described as a jar filled to the brim with tiny little ants, very studious one's at that!

his friends' heads immediately turn your way. a girl, talking to riki?! although their eyes don't stay glued on you for too long, they quickly glance at riki. the sight was hilarious, his long fingers were brushing through his disheveled hair, free hand tugging at the hem of his hoodie to smoothen out any wrinkles. there's a soft tint of pink spread across his cheeks, nothing too noticeable, although the burning red glow of his ears was far from discreet.

"y/n, hey!" - he grins, the hand combing through his hair now scratching the nape of his neck to try and play it cool... very smooth! a muffled laugh escapes from one of his friend's shut lips as their orbs dart between the boy and you.

you reach into your pocket, rummaging through the various things you keep inside. crackling of your house keys and noises of crumpled-up paper can be heard before you take out something. riki's eyes try their best to tear away from your mesmerizing features so he can see what you're trying to show him with your arm stretched towards him and a big grin on your face. he notices a little something lying on your palm. it's a duck keychain. if you were any other person he'd look at the item in your hand with a disgusted look on his face, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squinting in pure horror. but you're you. you're the love of his life. that's probably why riki can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tries his best to fight it off, yet the inevitable happens.

"take it, it's a gift! i saw it on the way to school and it reminded me of you!"

he quickly takes the keychain from your palm, ensuring his fingers stray as far away from yours as possible. even the slightest bit of physical contact and he feels his heart will explode for good. he mumbles out a thank you before you turn on your heels and walk away, completely oblivious that the butterflies in his stomach now make their way towards his throat, making him swallow dry.

"hey, riki, what's that?" - jungwon nudges him with his elbow, eyeing the item riki's holding between his fingers. a smile makes its way onto jungwon's lips as he glances up at his friend who's currently grinning from one red ear to another, rosy cheeks like pink buttons on a sweater made with love and care.

"i thought you hated ducks," - sunoo adds, sly hands reaching towards the keychain to try and pry it out of riki's hands, but instead the tall boy clutches harder onto the item, bringing it to his chest.

"well i like this one!" - he adds, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at his nosy friend.

riki never knew he could like ducks this much.

taglist: @geombyu @junityy @uygmoeb @sunghun @eternallyhyucks @pshjae @marknaeroni @feyregels @neos127 @koishua @echo-of-a-writer @w3bqrl @duolingofanaccount @goldenhypen @sungniverse @hittoki @acciomylove @soobin-chois @anik-4 @yjwfav @ja4hyvn @ddeonubaby @deafeningballoonnacho @squiishymeow @odxrilove @iyeonjuni @nyaforniki @kittyeji @pinkyyyujin @addictedtothesummernights @love-4-keum @luveill @enhastolemyheart @kpop-kitkat @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @str4b3rizz @solvgume @nishislcve (bold means i can’t mention you, if you want to be a part of my taglist fill this out!!)

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aphroditesmoon · 9 months

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wish you'd ask me

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: you're not good at reading subtle hints, clarisse realises that maybe she should've been more upfront with her feelings for you.

warnings: fluff, oblivious!reader, clarisse is down bad, reader is very neurodivergent coded, kissing, flirting, title n fic inspired by 'Wish You'd Ask Me' by Matt Maltese.

A/N: thank you for 1.9k followers!! I love you all dearly, my ask box and dms r always open, im glad that my writing is being enjoyed by so many people<3

wc: 4.5k

You have been in camp half blood for more than 4 years. You have made yourself at home for the last several years.

It was easy to view yourself as lesser or inadequate in comparison to other mortals during your days in the real world before you were sent to camp. The world has never failed to remind you of how different you were. Always too much or not good enough, always special and never normal

And it wasn't like you were dying for some sort of diagnosis to justify why you are the way you are, but upon discovering that you were actually a demigod, it felt like all the questions you've been harboring to yourself was finally answering themselves.

Everything clicked. Everything made sense, though at the same time, it felt impossible. You were a very confused little girl when you first arrived at camp. A girl who just wanted someone to tell them that it'll all be alright in the end.

And you still remembered the first person to hold you by your shoulders and made you look into their eyes as they told you that it was all going to be okay.

The girl with beautiful long curls and dark piercing eyes. The girl that everyone else, apparently, was afraid of.

But you could never be afraid of Clarisse La Rue.

Not with the way she smiles when every time she sees you, the way she never fails to make you feel included even in activities you're not capable of participating in. Not with the way your whole body electrifies every time your skin touches, when your hands brush against each other.

It didn't matter what anyone think, because no one could change the perception you've built of her. Clarisse La Rue is good. Or at least she is to you.

When you first heard of the rumours surrounding her, you did think better than to force a friendship on her. You strayed away from her and stuck to your cabin siblings and your books, but you noticed daily how she'd still go out of her way to talk to you at least once a day.

It didn't need to be a long conversation, just a passing acknowledgement. An easygoing 'hey, how've you been doing.' Sometimes she'd even go as far as cracking a joke with you.

With how serious her face is whenever she make the jokes, you'd have to think twice as hard and thrice as faster than another person to try and guess if she was being genuine or not so you could fit in a necessary laugh when you needed to.

Even as her anger became more apparent because of the new kid's accidental climb to fame and embarrassing the Ares' cabin, she still found time to make a conversation with you.

It had been long since you tried to ignore or avoid her. You learned that her attention towards you is harmless, and that she seemed much more comfortable telling you certain things compared to others. If she has been viewing you as some sort of safe box, then you don't really mind it. You liked listening to her talk and keeping her heart's intent as your secret.

You too, talking to her. To some people, you are reserved,

and to others, talkative. Either way, people find it easy to discard you at any moment they decide you are irritating.

But Clarisse listens. And she asks questions, she's patient- much patient that anyone could anticipate or guess.

It may be hard for others to believe, but Clarisse is more complex than she seems. She had the capacity to be gentle, and she had the capacity to respect boundaries. The more time you spent with her, the more that side becomes easy for you to access.

Today, however, marks a new record for your friendship with her. A few weeks ago, she had informed you of her newfound interest in the history of folklore monsters. What a coincidence that you were currently self-studying on that specific topic.

She insisted that you hook her in on whatever it is you're learning. She had even gotten you a doughnut to eat together outside the library as you told her of your insights of dragons and their theorized blindness and incapability to differentiate a variety of prey.

The conversation went well, she seemed immensely in awe of your knowledge and had no problem telling you how she felt.

You even gave her some book recommendations, though you knew she wasn't much of a reader.

You felt a shift in your relationship that night and had spent the next three days studying more and more about the topic. And today, you had asked her to spend the evening with you.

You shouldn't feel so nervous asking her to hang out. That is what friends do, after all.

She found you in the library, sitting on the floor in between two large bookshelves. She had been right on time and enthusiastically so. The two of you sat together, hidden by the shelves as some semblance of privacy.

Clarisse looked confused when you had explained that you indeed wanted to spend the rest of the day in the library, but she accompanied you anyways.

You could never get sick of the smell of the books. Old and new, they all have some nostalgic past tied in between the pages, begging to be discovered.

You had your back on the walls with tinted windows above your head as she's seated opposite of you in a criss-crossed position.

Today, the library isn't as packed as usual. There were still people walking in and out and checking out the books on the counter, but not too many that it became obnoxiously loud and annoying.

After finishing another book of Monsters and how to spot them, you're feeling knowledgeable enough to explain the lore of the Giants to Clarisse, she had asked you about this the other day, giants have been long extinct to the point that some might even say they may have never even existed. And so you were interested in sharing with her all of the information you have learned about the majestic species of a beast.

You started with the general information. The basic understanding of what a Giant is the mythhs of Giants and the validity of those sources. Clarisse listened closely in the beginning, never interrupting you unless she had an actual question.

She seemed in awe of the stories you tell her of. You don't blame her, for you yourself have been most interested in the topic of Giants.

You were an hour an a half in when noticed her attention faltering. She leaned against the cases of books, her eyes twitched slightly when you began to explain the different types of giants, and the difference of how they operate.

Her hands are folded together on her lap, and you can feel her listening in on everything you're telling her as she adds in some commentary here and there, but you also felt that she wasn't entirely in on the conversation.

The dim lights of the library made the atmosphere feel warm and secluded, even with its vast space and many other campers hanging around in the other tables and shelves. You made sure to keep your voice low as you spoke in fear of the librarian kicking you out.

You had a good reputation with the library workers, they liked how organized and polite you were.

"A lot of people think their greatest strength is their size, which is valid, they are huge, but their real weapon is their mouth." You told Clarisse, ignoring the litter of books by your left that you had brought over for reference.

"They kiss you to death?" She asks suspiciously. You laughed shortly and shook your head. "No, I mean their breath."

She responds with an 'ohh.'

"They're giants, so their mouth is large too, and you can easily tell what they had for breakfast even from their tall height. Their breaths are also known to be so rancid it could kill you, because they don't exactly eat what we eat."

She raises a brow as she stretches her hands upwards. "Isn't that ogres?"

"It's both." You confirmed.

You were about to continue your explanation but halted by instinct as you notice how her mouth keeps pursing together as if unsatisfied, and she has that look on her face that mimicked a confused expression. You're don't think there's anything to be confused of.

"Are you okay?" You asked her worriedly. Clarisse sits up straighter at the question and waved a hand off to assure you she's fine. "Of course, no yeah- I'm fine."

"You seem bored, you're not really interested in what I'm saying are you?” She opens her mouth to counter your words but hesitates to say anything.

"I- well, I like giants-" She attempts, "-no you don't. "

"No. I don't." She admits with a sigh. "But I thought you said you were interested in these kind of stuff?" You questioned her. "Well, yeah, like the general idea of it. I mean, I don't hate it, and I like hearing you talk about it." She answers with a shrug.

"Then why do you look disappointed? If you didn't want to come, you could've just told me. I wouldn't get mad." You told her honestly. It was conflicting for you to see her so confused on what to say, being so picky with the words she chooses.

You figured she's probably reluctant to hurt your feelings. That is a notion you're used to. You'd rather she tell you the truth to your face than to be catered around like a time ticking bomb that everyone's so afraid might explode at any time.

"When you asked me out yesterday, you told me this would be an 'evening to remember." She tells you with such confidence like it was an explanation to her weird behaviour today.

"You don't think this is an evening to remember?" You sincerely inquire.

"No, I do! I just- well, when you said that I didn't think you'd mean we'd be doing this." Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what she means, eyeing her body language closely. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to hang out.”

A part of you is offended. She was the one who had said she liked hearing you speak, why would she be disappointed that this was your idea of spending time together?

"I don't know, I thought we'd just be doing...something else?"

It didn't matter what she had really meant with that. You felt completely embarrassed once she finished her sentence. Why was it that everyone else had no problem having long conversations with their friends, but when it came to you, it's all too awkward, unnecessary, and odd?

You liked Clarisse, you considered her your friend. Sometimes you wonder if it could ever be more, but you never entertain those thoughts because you don't want to ruin what the two of you already have.

But moments like these resemble a huge slap in the face by the universe.

You couldn't even be good friends with her, how ridiculous of you to think that there could ever be something more.

"Okay, um, maybe we should just go back to our cabin." You decided whilst standing up and picking up the stack of books you're currently borrowing from the library, ready to leave the place without waiting for her.

"Hey, wait." She called out as you walked past her. You spared her a glance, trying your best not to show how upset you are. “We're friends." She says it so much like a question that you weren't sure if she's even sure of the fact herself until she continued speaking. "I like hanging out with you."

Another thing that you weren't sure if she really meant. "Sure." You replied thinking it's the most suitable response.

Before she could say anything else, you turned around and started picking up your pace until you disappeared out of her sight.

—

You have been consistently ignoring Clarisse. Which proved to be harder than expected.

When you pass by her camp or the training ground, you make a mental note to always look down or to your front as to never accidentally cross eyes with her.

And everytime you hear her call out your name, you keep walking like you didn't even hear her, knowing that she wouldn't be bold enough to call for you again. After all, she still had a reputation to uphold.

If ignoring her wasn't hard enough, having to deal with how you felt for her is worse.

You've been avoiding confrontation with yourself for weeks even before you decided to go no contact with her.

And so far, you thought you've been handling it pretty well. Except for days where you don't see her where she's expected to be. You tell yourself that you don't care as you make your way to training in the day and reading in the evening, and yet you still go back on your own words when you asked a passerby Ares kid on where his cabin leader was.

"She's dunking some kid's head into a toilet bowl." Of course she was.

You thanked the dude and went back on your way to your cabin. It's close to dusk, the sky is turning orange and the sun is dipping itself below the earth. You take your time returning to your cabin as you enjoy the way the sun slowly removes itself from anyone's viewing.

You wondered to yourself if things like these are what makes you weird or off-putting to some people.

Was enjoying nature and having niche interests only cute when it's done by girls pretty enough to be cool or if it's only in romance movies or books.

You don't find yourself weird, in fact you think all of your hobbies are pretty common and usual, and yet the way Clarisse had spoken to you at the library last week had made you feel unnatural.

You had wanted to do normal people things with her, but maybe your perception of normal is different to her.

Either way, you are pretty hurt with how she reacted. You loved her still, of course. It's kind of hard to unlike the girl you've been obsessed with since you were 15.

Once you finally reach your cabin, you quickly put down all of your books and your tiny sling back by the side before making it to the shower to refresh yourself before dinner.

You thought it hilarious of how hard you're trying not to care about Clarisse, and yet as you're cleaning yourself up, changing your clothes and attempting to read at least 15 pages of your World's Most Dangerous Beasts book, you could only think of her.

What would it take for her to think that you're cool, what kind of things did she want to do instead of listening to you yap around for 2 hours on what is an equivalent of a boring dinosaur facts, not that you really think dinosaurs are boring.

During dinner, you kept to siblings and had to make yourself finish your plate as your anxiety wrecking thoughts have a way of deriving you of an appetite. You also had to convince yourself to not search for her at the other tables which took more strength than one would expect.

But you succeeded, and you were now sure that the only obstacle left for the day was to try and fall asleep without the thoughts of her keeping you up.

Clarisse is a force, a fierce daughter of Ares, and a cabin leader who had much better things to do then hole up at quiet small places with you.

And just because she was nice enough to mantain a good relationship with you for 4 years, does not mean that you're worth her time. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

That night, you managed to fall asleep after an hour of recalling Harpy facts in repetition. Counting sheeps had never worked on you, so you had to find something much more active to tire out your brain.

You dreamed of Clarisse with her hair down, holding your hand and pulling you closer so she could slip a flower on your ear.

And just as she's looking down at you, moving closer to do what it seemed like to kiss you, you awoke with a jolt, swearing under your breath as if you'd just gotten jumpscared by a ghost.

Someone's palms moved to shut your lips as you're met with a girl, hovering over you in the dark. Clarisse's dark eyes were recognizable, but it sent a shot of adrenaline through your body still.

"Shh." She whispered to your face, hand still keeping your mouth shut. "I'm going to remove my hands now." She whispered again. You nod in understanding and waited for her to pry her hand away from your face.

"What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed as quiet as possible as she helped you sit up.

"I'm sneaking you out." She answers with a wink. "It's 2 in the morning." You waved your hand around at the darkness and sleeping children. "3 in the morning, and yeah, I know. That's why it's called sneaking around." She corrects you with a grin so devilish that if you hadn't known her for a long time, you'd assume she's about to turn you into a new toilet bowl or dumpster boxing victim.

You sighed loudly and glared at her despite your fast beating heart. Her hand remained on top of yours until the minute becomes more awkward and she removes it as if she just remembered that she's been holding your hand.

Without explanation, she climbed out of your bed and tiptoes to the open cabin door. You're still sitting up and looking at her with conflicted feelings.

Only after she turns back to you, cocking her head towards the entrance, do you give into her request and softly leave the comfort of your bed and trail after her.

"Where are we going?" You asked after her as she kept walking. Instead of responding, she asks you another question back, "Can you swim?"

"We're going swimming?" You watch her shrug in return from behind her and became even more distressed.

"So, is this your idea of having fun and hanging out then?" She laughs drily and slowed down so you could catch up. You walked fast enough until you're beside her and waited for her to talk. "You sound surprised, I would've thought that after 4 years of friendship, you'd know by now that I love doing things that includes active movements."

You did know that, it's a bit hard to not notice how much working out, training and running fuels her even more.

"And why are we doing it in the middle of the night?" The walk towards the lake by the back of the forest was short, considering that your cabin is the closest to the location.

You almost tripped and fell over a stick, but Clarisse was quick to scoop you back up by the back of your shirt. "Thanks." You mumbled to her. "And you haven't answered my question."

Clarisse pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground without caring of your presence. You, having more moral obligations than her, twisted your face to your left when she began to pull her trousers off. "Too many people in broad daylight." She tells you.

That is a valid reason, this lake is mostly known as a hook up spot, and true to it's cause, many dating campers have been caught together here during dawn or late evenings.

You braved yourself to turn towards her again slowly and realised that she had already hopped into the water. She had a sports bra on and a boxer.

And though you yourself had a tank top and shorts on, you contemplate the idea of suicide as a better choice than having to strip in front of her.

"Are you gonna get in, or are you just gonna gawk at me from there?" You were grateful for the dark being able to hide your flushed face from her, but deep down, you knew that she probably saw it anyways because of the shining bright moonlight.

"I can't swim." You told her.

"That's fine, the water's not very deep." You ransacked your brain for reasons to decline her offer, but at the same time, a small part of you yearned to take this risk that you've been so afraid of for gods knows whatever reason.

Clarisse is there, in the water and under the moonlight. You are only a few steps away from her. And like she said, the water isn't deep, only waist length. She stares back at you with a raised brow like she's challenging you to join her.

"Turn around first." You tell her. She smirked slightly before slowly spinning to the opposite direction. "You know I've seen you naked before right?"

"What?" You choked out, aghast. "Who do you think changed your clothes for you when you first got to camp." Oh, that.

Your shoulder relaxes as you realize she's talking about the first time you met. "That's was a long time ago." You noted. She hummed im agreement. "Yeah, we've both grown since."

You told her she could turn around once you're inside the water. Forgetting about the heighy difference between you two, the water was high enough to reach your chest, trying your best not to trip underwater the way you always do on dry ground, your hand instinctively reached outnfor her shoulder.

Clarisse held your forearm tightly and drew your closer to her until you're inches away from eachother.

You breathed in sharply and felt the need to fill in the awkward silence. "So, you...like swimming, huh?"

"Yes, evidently so." She answered. "Right right, can't sit still and all that." She actually chuckled at your sarcasm, making you proud of yourself.

"You know, even before I came to camp Half Blood, I use to be a pretty active person, running track, volleyball, sometimes swimming." Your eyes widened in curiosity. "Really?" She nodded.

"The counselor told my mom that I just had so many untapped energy, which I guess is a code for anger issues." Her grip on your forearm moves higher until her palm is over your shoulder. "She told her that it'd be best for me to find a...healthy way, to channel that energy, and for my strong competitiveness. So I joined what I could, and that's how I spent most of my free time there. Besides, I never was that good academically. So, I ought to at least be good at something, right?"

"You are good." You blurted out. Your embarrassment faded away when you saw her smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah." You assured her. Her other hand had snaked around your waist without you noticing. Only when you moved slightly do you notice her holding you softly.

"The moon is really nice tonight, isn't it?" You said, trying to diffuse the tension. You pointed your finger up to the sky at the singular white orb.

She glanced up and let out a 'huh.'

"I like it when it's bright and whole like this, the moon in all of its glory. You don't even notice the starts around it when it's glowing like that." You could stare at the moom forever, even longer than the way you've been staring at the sun.

You believed in it the way children do with their birthday candle. To you, the moon has always been a symbol of hope or comfort for your future. Your fascination for it existed from when you were a child, the way it'd follow you from behind as you gazed upon it from the back of the car seat whilst your parent drove down the road.

The way it moved above you as you walked home from school, like one of the gods themselves watching over you.

"Nothing compares to the moon." You announced aloud, watching as the clouds around it began to gather over it. "Yeah, It's beautiful." You hear Clarisse speak.

As your head snapped back to her, you found that she had already been facing you.

"I like the moon...but not as much as I like you." She whispered loud enough for your ears only. Her face leans closer to yours, your noses brushing together. "Not as much as I like to hear your voice, when you tell me about your little harpy facts-"

"Oh, I haven't told you about the harpies yet." You cut her off. "I just finished that chapter this morning actually and-"

"-and, you can tell me about it after I'm done talking." You blushed and became silent, letting her speak.

Clarisse exhaled breathily, fanning your face with the subtle warm air. "I like doing things that friends do with you, but I don't want to be your friend anymore."

"Oh."

"I want to be more than friends." She elaborated.

"Oh." Oh.

You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, from anxiety or from butterflies is undecided. "You want to be best friends?" You joked, laughing nervously.

Clarisse snorted at your joke, but she was still grinning widely. "Best friends, If that's what you want to call it."

There was a moment of understanding shared between a second of shared gazes before her lips attached themselves to yours. An urgency, approval, meaning that can't be described by words.

Whatever gentleness there was inside of her before had vanished. Clarisse kissed you like a starved woman. Her lips craved yours like it'd be the last time she'll ever know how you taste like.

Your hands clasped on her shoulder and neck for support as she embraced you tighter to her body. You let her tongue slip into your mouth, meeting your own.

And as they danced together, inhaling all there is in your lips, every secret and every confession that have died on the tip ofnyour tongues, you are sure that no heaven nor hell could tear you open to see you back together like this.

You push her back abruptly, letting fresh air fill your empty lungs. "What's wrong?" Clarisse inquired worriedly.

"Last week." You sighed out, chest still heaving as your thoughts clicked together. "You thought I had asked you on a date, that's why you were disappointed."

She winced at the reminder, and for the first time in your life, you had been lucky enough to witness a flustered Clarisse.

"I'm right." Her silence confirmed. "Oh Clarisse, why didn't you just ask me?"

Huffing loudly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. "I thought I was obvious enough. "

Thinking back on it all, it did seem pretty obvious, but gods were you oblivious. The way you intepreted it all so wrongly.

"I've liked you for so long too." You admitted to her. Her scowl was gone at that, replaced by a teasing smile. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Her mouth returned to yours, letting go of all your fears and holding on to Clarisse like she's your anchor, you close the gap between your lips, welcoming the kind of pleasure that you've never tasted before.

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