#she has grown up SO much and it’s been amazing to see

[bbbuckaroo]

I was the one who sent in the 7x4 question! Thank you for explaining!! I do admit that I started watching the show when buck being bi went canon (I think I’m using that term correctly) so I was starting the show from the beginning and watch current episodes airing (where you can clearly tell that man is bi from the beginning, however knowing his childhood I think he likes positive attention from people and is definitely a golden retriever is a grown man’s body)

But my questions is when do you start watching the show? I’m assuming buck has always been you favorite character? Did you ever ship him with anyone else (other than Abby his love interests haven’t great but I secretly love the trouble him and Taylor Kelly got into). What are your thoughts on buddie? And off topic from the show but what type of other roles would like to see Oliver take on in the future? I feel like his range is amazing (like every actor on the show). I’m sure he does auditions but I feel like he likes hiatus because I’m sure he goes back home to London to visit family and friends

I think a lot of people started watching when Buck went baby bi which is awesome! It definitely brought in a lot more viewers especially after last season was such a hot mess. And god yes was that boy bi from the beginning, my gaydar (queerdar?) went off immediately from episode one. I am so happy to have that validated because I always saw him as a love one, love all. I definitely think his constant search for affection (positive or negative) stems from his childhood and seeking it in any way possible which is heartbreaking but also so pivotal to his character and development. Especially being able to see how healthy of a relationship Tommy could be by comparison.

I started 9-1-1 when it was about halfway through season three so I caught up to there and have been watching it in real time since. I think I actually saw a GIF or something on here after being a Tarlos fan and started watching. Buck has definitely always been my favorite, I have such a soft spot for his vulnerability and the way Oliver conveys his emotions. It’s amazing seeing a “macho” man express his feelings and emotions so openly and not be seen as lesser of a man. I think that’s so important to represent today with my generation (X/Y) being one that was raised with very oppressed emotions since our baby boomer parents were raised to be practically void of them.

I never really shipped him enthusiastically with anyone because I honestly always thought he was bi and that his relationships were always negative and unhealthy. Or at least ill timed (ie. Alli). I did love Buck and Taylor’s dynamic pre-relationship but they were doomed from the start. They were too similar in so many ways that they brought out the worst in each other. IMO. I can’t blame Abby for being in the mental state she was in but I always got an “ick” feeling from how hard she pursued Buck and then ended up casting him aside when he was no longer useful. He was essentially collateral damage but again she had so much going on that I don’t think she truly realized what she was doing.

Oh Buddie. I could do an essay and a half on Buddie. I had heard about Buddie being shipped when I started the show so went into their relationship open-minded. I would have happily shipped them had I felt any romantic chemistry and immediately I adored them. As FRIENDS. I never saw the chemistry other people did but I think it relates back to my comments on Buck’s beautiful representation of men being able to show emotions. I loved that two macho men could be friends, best friends at that, and instead of chest bumping and getting drunk and hunting down girls, they were able to share emotions and be open with each other. Buck was able to become a support system to Chris which was another wonderful thing to see in mainstream media, a boy with positive male influences that weren’t necessarily his parents.

But here comes an unpopular opinion and I’m sure I could be seen as wearing Buck-tinted glasses but I don’t always feel like their relationship has been equal parts give and take which would have been vital in a romantic relationship had they had one. I think Eddie came to rely on Buck more than Buck did Eddie and while that’s fine and normal, I felt like Eddie wasn’t as understanding and selfless towards Buck especially during the lawsuit/tsunami era. Again, Eddie had a lot going on but with how much Buck did and sacrificed for him I think his behavior during and post the lawsuit, especially after the tsunami, wasn’t okay (shields self).

I don’t not LIKE Buddie but I personally find it to not be anything romantic and I think forcing it to be would completely devalue their friendship and what they’ve come to represent, especially Buck’s relationship with Chris. He is NOT a parent to Chris, he’s a friend and a mentor and an uncle figure at best and that’s what Chris needs from him. And I won’t even get started on the BoB’s because I’ve tried to keep my platform positive and not giving them the attention they seek. I don’t do bullies and unfortunately as on the playground the only way to get them to go away is to ignore them. Like I said, I could go on all day about my view of Buck and Eddie but I don’t think anyone cares that much 😝

I would love to see Oliver in more eccentric and complex character roles, they are truly his craft. His conveyance of depth and emotion and neurodivergence is spot on so I feel like a role without much substance or backstory wouldn’t do him justice. Yes he is hilarious with his British wit but he is definitely a drama genre man. I adored his MindGamers character Dylan but that movie was a shitshow which was too bad. And Ryder in Into the Badlands was the perfect character for him: drama, angst, vulnerability. So a role similar to those would be great. I definitely think he’s more of a series actor vs. a movie only because he’s so good at (and seems to truly enjoy) building up a character and their story which may not be as possible in a movie.

I personally think that Oliver likes to put his all into one role at a time and is very passionate about Buck that he’s a method actor in terms of wanting to engross himself in one character, especially one as developed and established as Buck. I hope that once 9-1-1 does end that other projects can truly see how amazing of an actor he is and that it can translate to other projects, especially since he’s dedicated so much to Buck. I think he’d be phenomenal in theatre as well which could definitely allow him more time on both continents but really seems to love his time here in his California home with his puppies so I hope he stays here.

Oh lord, this itself has turned into a multi-episode series, I apologize! I hope this answers everything you asked, I truly am amazed that people actually ask me anything because I’m certainly no more than a dissociative SAHM with a whole mess of neurodivergence. But I guess that explains why I do get so invested in fictional universes! Thank you so much for the ask ❤️

[alittlep21party]

baby leighton! the girl has grown up so much. isn’t she going to high school next year?

she is going into high school!! can’t believe the tiny ‘baby mine’ dancer has grown up so much 🥹

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Six

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4k words - AO3 Warnings - tags: 18+ MDNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Nurse reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Reference to past domestic violence. Angst. Alcohol. Crying, anxiety, panic. Johnny in distress. Johnny is still a menace. Soft dads. POV switches. Note: Safe sleep for infants always. I do not endorse sleeping with your baby in your bed. This is a fic not real life. Simon does some digging.

“Shhh now, ye’re alright.”

Johnny coos, Penny cradled up to his chest. He’s not wearing a shirt, eyes still half sealed shut with sleep, and she squalls in his arms, screaming as loud as her little lungs will allow. “What is it, mah wee lamb? Are ye hungry? Do ye need a change?” He checks her nappy, efficiently looking for a mess or something to clean up and is nearly disappointed when he finds her still dry. If it’s not her nappy, then maybe her stomach? Could she be hungry again? He thumbs through the notes on his phone to find Simon’s last entry: 23:20 – 50 ML. 

That was only an hour ago. 

He frowns, walking in a circle, bouncing her gently, trying to settle her back to sleep. She’s so tiny, and still has grown so much in just the short time since they brought her home. It amazes him. It terrifies him. 

“What is it, sweet bairn? What’s got ye all upset?” He touches his lips to softest skin he’s ever felt, his thumb trying to swipe away the tracks of tears on her cheeks. “Please dinnae cry. I-“ 

“You okay?” Simon clears his throat behind him, and Johnny tenses. 

“We’re fine. Ye’re supposed to be sleepin’.” 

“Heard the two of you in here fussing. Thought I could help.” Simon’s trying to be supportive, trying to be a good partner, Johnny knows, but all he can feel is irritation, a defensive reaction making his hackles rise. 

It’s not fair. He’s so good at it. He’s a natural. And Johnny… Johnny feels like he’s failing his own kid, when she’s not even a month old yet. 

“I dinnae need-“ 

“Hey.” Simon touches his elbow, and then his chin, tilting his face upwards. “I know you don’t, love. You’re doing a great job. It’s not your fault she’s having a rough go.” He soothes him, fingers kneading into the top of his spine, squeezing the nape of his neck and pulling him into his arms. Penny is still crying, but softer now, a low-pitched tone of misery that makes his heart ache, and he feels so overwhelmed, so helpless, staring down at her as she tries desperately to tell him what's wrong, the only way she knows how. He rests his cheek against Simon’s chest, melting into his hold, letting him wrap his arms all way around his waist. 

“She hates me.” Johnny grumbles, and Simon presses his mouth to Johnny’s temple in short, succinct kisses. 

“She doesn’t. She’s brand new. She can’t hate anything, yet, and certainly not her Da.” He strokes her cheek. “Let’s bring her to bed, see if we can get her down and then one of us can put her back in the crib, alright?” Johnny sighs. 

“Alright.” 

“What’re you doing after this?”

“Going to bed?” What else would you be doing?

“I’m thinking about going to Jackie’s for a drink… wanna come?” Nia untucks her scrubs, pulling the top up over her head.

“Jackie’s, huh?” You chew on your lip. You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. But… Jackie’s is a dive. It’s dark, and dingy, with black walls, black floors, no window in sight. And... it’s a hospital haunt. 

“It’s my birthday.” She whispers, casting a glance around the rest of the room. “I’m not… it’s not a thing, I just want to go, have a few to celebrate.” You take a deep breath. “Please?” She tacks on at the end, and your shoulders dip down in defeat.

“Okay. One. And then I gotta go.”

“Yes!” She cheers, excitement smashing her palms together.

Nothing like a seven am beer. 

Jackie’s is a distinct place. It’s one of the only twenty-four-hour liquor licenses left in the city, or so you’ve been told, and has been frequented by hospital staff for decades. It’s dart boards and dark wood floors, cheap beer and rail vodka, a worn to hell pool table, and an old, disabled juke box that someone broke intentionally, years ago. It’s an institution, and reminds you of some old places you used to frequent, when you weren’t… who you are now. Years ago, before, you used to love a good dive bar. Didn’t mind the way the floor stuck to your feet, and you considered yourself nearly tactical at darts. It was a source of pride, the accuracy, the rate at which you could make a bullseye, even when you were a few sheets to the wind.

“Coulda been a surgeon.” You’d tease, a smirk growing across your boyfriend’s face.

“If you were a surgeon, sugar, who’d be at home waitin’ for me after work?” He’d push back, coating the warning in an adoration, giving whoever was undoubtedly watching a slick smile before snaking an arm around your waist and tugging you close. “You don’t need to be surgeon. You don’t even need to work. You have me.” 

You thought you knew, then. Knew how to handle it, how to navigate the ever-present, ever-growing threat… but you were wrong.

You were so, so wrong.

“So, heard there’s a spot opening up on days.” Nia chucks her purse at the bar top, climbing onto the stool next to you. “You’ve got the seniority… you givin’ it any thought?” The bartender walks by with a hello, and you nod at him.

“Old Speck please. And no, I like nights.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know Americans liked Old Speck.”

“We have it in the states. I didn’t live under a rock.” You quip, and she laughs before ordering her own poison, a choice that makes your own eyebrows shoot up in question. “Vodka on the rocks?”

“I’m a straight to the point kind of girl.” She explains. “So, no days?”

“No days. You?”

“I might. Night shift is kicking my ass.” She complains. “Don’t even know what day it is half the time. My rhythm is off.”

“You need like, at least six months to fully adjust.” You put a note down in exchange for your beer, and then the bartender scuttles away, distracted by some insistent woman at the other end of the bar.

“Six months?!” You’re about to launch into your spiel about how it’s not that bad when your phone vibrates in your pocket.

>Make it home from work alright? 

>It’s Johnny, by the way :) 

The two texts are the start of a new group chat with your number, Johnny’s number and the number you put in your contacts just yesterday… Simon’s. Your head jerks back on instinct, confused.

“You okay?” Nia asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, fine just…uh-“ She peeks over your arm, and giggles.

“Is that your patient? Two sixty-eight?”

“What?”

“Your patient. The military hottie. The one that’s always lookin’ at your bum.” Your face burns, and she tsks. “Ah, don’t be embarrassed. He’s smokin’. Wish he looked at me the way he looks at you.” You’re surprised at the flare of irritation that starts up in your stomach at her, a hot streak of jealously simmering there, burning away indignantly. “Aren’t they… I mean… isn’t the scary mask guy his partner?” He’s not scary, you scowl inwardly. He’s just… protective. The butterflies in your stomach startle, and you drift back to last night, in the stairwell, in the car.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.” 

“If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.” 

Nia says your name, dragging you back to earth, and you shrug. “Yes… they… they’re together. It’s just been hard on them, so I think there’s a bit of an attachment growing there. You know, it’s not unusual.” She bites her lip, mouth pushing up into a smile.

“They’re quite fit. Wouldn’t mind if they formed an attachment to me.” She pauses, delicately sucking her gasoline on ice up through a straw. “Gonna text him back?”

“Nia.” You hiss, and she barks out a laugh.

“Oh, come on, just a bit of fun. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s not appropriate.” You remind her, and she rolls her eyes.

“You’re such a stick in the mud sometimes. Remember when Marshall was fucking his brain cancer girl? Now that, was not appropriate.” You do remember- Marshall’s sudden absence, the whispering, the HR investigation that spanned weeks, interviews with everyone on the floor.

Your beer goes sour in your stomach.

“I gotta get home.” You wrap an arm around her shoulder with a squeeze and a whisper. “Happy Birthday.” You feel bad for abandoning her, and maybe in another life you might even consider her a friend, but you’re already too exposed here as it is, and staying any longer would be too indulgent- not to mention, incredibly stupid.

You pass another nurse on the way out and him know that Nia’s at the bar, alleviating your guilt just a tad before you hike up your hood and make a beeline for the train.

By the time you get back to your hotel room, get showered, and collapse on top of the far too big bed, it’s nearly been an hour. You plug your phone in, unlocking the screen to flick on do not disturb, and realize the group message is still open, cursor blinking, waiting for your response.

It’s fine. You can tell you got home okay, that’s not crossing any lines. 

>Yeah, just got settled for bed. See you later!

A text from Simon chimes back within a minute, and you squint at it, one eye open.

>Get some rest.  

The floor is dead silent at the beginning of your shift.

Nothing beeps or whines or cries, no noise echoes around the corner to where you’re scrolling through Johnny’s chart, getting caught up on his day, triple checking that his levels and vitals are all within normal range. He passed his follow up for the liver procedure with flying colors, and the relief you feel is not unexpected, the weight of worry lifting free from your shoulders without another thought.

He’s fine, he’s better than fine, he’s… too healthy for the ICU.

Reality hits you like a truck, and you stop short, sneakers squeaking along the floor.

He won’t be your patient anymore. 

He won’t… be your patient anymore. 

The thought twists you into a mess of complicated emotions. A snarled, tangled viper's nest of unknowns, uncertainties, things you're desperately trying to tuck back behind your heart, hide them away so no one, not even yourself, can see them.

This is a good thing. This is what you want. Stable patients, on their way to recovery. 

So, you’ll miss them, that’s okay. There’s a little bit attachment, that’s alright. 

This is the best case scenario. You’re making a mess of things. You’re getting too involved with your patient and his family. You let Simon drive you home, for fucks sake. 

They’re getting confused, because you’re the caretaker. It happens all the time. As soon as Johnny steps down, they’ll forget all about you. 

You’re risking too much. You’re risking their safety, their child’s safety, your own. 

It’s for the best. 

You put your best work smile on when you approach his room, pulling as much air into your lungs as you can manage.

Focus on your job. Your patient. You’re a professional. 

Johnny is alone. No Simon, no visitors, nobody keeping him company. It’s a strange sight, and he looks almost uncomfortable, creased brow lowered down over his eyes. That’s… odd. Worse, there’s a heaviness in his gaze, sadness pulling his mouth downwards, usual playful demeanor nowhere in sight. Even sad, he’s a marvel, and every day, he gets stronger, he gets healthier, he gets closer to leaving this room, amazing you with his tenacity, his will. 

“Hey, you on your own tonight?” You casually knock on the door frame, and then pull it shut behind you, cocking your head.

“Aye.” He’s sullen, his despair tugging you closer to the bed, an urge to try to comfort him too strong to deny. 

“How are you feeling?” You try the subtle question, hoping he'll be forthcoming, and you keep yourself composed as you wait for his answer. 

“’m alright.” You tab through his chart, glancing it over once more, if only to assuage your own anxieties, and then tap into his vitals. Everything looks good, last labs look great… so what’s going on? 

“Just alright?” His fingers flex in the blanket, tanned skin against white linen, picking at fibers and threads, unable to hold himself still. He looks like he’s going to burst open at the seams, explode inside this room, a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the end of the countdown.

A tear tracks down his cheek. “Johnny?” You step closer, close enough so your fingers graze his, trying to delicately let him know, you’re here. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. What’s going on?” The monitor beeps steadily in the silence, his chest depresses with a gust of air.

“It’s… it’s nothin’ bun. I’m jus’… I’m havin’ a bad day.”

“Want to talk about it? I hear I’m a pretty good listener.” You encourage, and his face twists.

“No, I- Ach. Aye, alright.” He shifts in the bed, and you hover in case he needs help, but he waves you away. “It’s… bein’ in here. I want to be wi’ my family. Penny turned one, before I left for this assignment. Was only supposed to be two weeks tops, but then it turned into a month, then two. And now, I’m home… but ’m not really home, and I-“ His voice cracks, raw thread of agonized emotion separating his words, and he swallows it, forcing it back. “I’m blown to bits and cannae even see my own daughter. I’m missin’ out on everything.” Oh, Johnny. Your heart is heavy, and it hurts for him, bleeds as he wipes his face. 

“You’re not blown to bits, just a little banged up.” You give him a soft smile, and when he shakes his head, your fingers find his on instinct. You don’t even stop to second guess yourself, fully sinking into the contact with a gentle squeeze. “Hey, look at me.” His lashes are wet, sticky with tears, and he sniffles. “You’re making great progress, Johnny, going to be out of here in no time. You won’t even be in the ICU much longer, and then once you’re downstairs, Penny will be able to come visit all the time. After that, it won’t be too much longer until you’re back home with them.” He nods, and you stroke your thumb across his knuckles.

“Ye think so?”

“You’re the toughest patient I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a fair amount, you know. Traumatic injury recovery takes time, it takes patience, but you’re doing a great job of it so far. You just have to take it one day at a time. Before you know it, you’ll be at home on your own couch, bossin’ Simon around all day instead of me.” He laughs at that, a throaty chuckle capable of spreading heady warmth through your veins, and then gives you one of those stupidly stunning smiles.

“Shouldnae be cryin’ in front of ye.”

“You can cry in front of me any time you want. That’s what I’m here for. Besides, it’s not the first time.” You tease and he rolls his eyes.

“Doesnae count. I was high.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” The untouched dinner tray on his side table catches your eye, and chilling worry reappears in the back of your mind. “You didn’t eat?”

“Didnae have an appetite until ye showed up, pretty girl.” Okay. You can remedy this easily, if he's interested in eating. Lack of appetite is alarming, but if you can get him to eat now... 

“You hungry? I haven’t eaten yet. Want me to grab you something?” He brightens, indulging in a spectacular smile, and you take it as a yes with a small laugh. “Alright. Let me run down to the café, yeah?”

“What’s that saying, about how I hate to see ye go, but love to watch ye leav-“

“Okay!” you practically shout, cutting him off, fire racing across your skin, and he snickers, palm pressing against his heart like he’s wounded. “I’ll be right back.” You give him a serious look, and and he rubs his palm through his hair, mirth sparkling in his eyes. Holy hell. How is he so attractive? And how is it still so blinding, every time?  

You get two of the only option left this late in the evening, chicken soup and some sourdough, balancing the bowls carefully on their trays until you’re placing them down in the room, swinging the little table over Johnny’s lap and settling in beside him, perched on Simon’s recliner. The soup is warm, spiced with herbs and thick with noodles, and you're pleased that it's better than you were expecting, happy that Johnny seems to like it as well. 

"Wanted to take ye out properly for our first date, but this will have ta’ do. Simon’s gon’ be so bloody jealous.” He masterfully hums between your bites, and your eyes go wide, trying and failing to swallow your soup instead of choking on it.

“Johnny, we… this… I- this isn’t a date!” you squeak.

“Why not?” He asks, inflection innocent, and your brain rattles around inside your skull, splitting down the middle, falling apart in bewilderment. Why not? What does he mean?

“You… you have a partner. Simon? You know, your family that we were literally just talking about?” He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with this look on his face, one you can’t interpret. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What did Simon tell ye, the other night. When he took ye home?”

“What? He… I don’t remember.” Does he know that Simon gave you his phone number? 

Of course, he knows, he started that group text. 

Does Simon know what Johnny said, about you coming into their lives? About-

“Didnae he tell ye, we’re here for ye?”

“Y-yeah.”

“We, bunny? We.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” He sighs. What is he trying to say? What is going on?

“We like ye. Like I said, we think ye’re really special. Simon, and I. Together, bun.”

“Wh-what?” Puzzle pieces snap together and then break apart, like a landscape jigsaw that you spent days completing once before it was promptly ruined. Does he... does he mean... Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. You have to squash this. Now. Just explain it, he’ll get it. He’s smart. “No… no, Johnny it’s just… it’s this thing, that happens. Patients get attached to their nurses or doctors sometimes, it’s normal. You d-don’t like me, I promise. There’s nothing even to like.” He blinks, jaw grinding under stubble. If Simon’s stare feels like he’s reading your mind, then Johnny’s is like being pinned down in one place, unable to move. You’re paralyzed, and powerless, lost in the icy blue sea of his eyes, drowning with a hand sticking out above the crest of the surf, reaching for him.

“Why would ye say that? That there’s nothin’ about ye to like? Nothin’ could be farther from the truth.”

“I don’t… there’s not. It’s… I’m your nurse, Johnny. That’s all.” Sweat glosses the small of your back, slicking upwards to cover your spine, and your heart hammers, it beats, beats, beats- so loudly you’re sure the pulse point in your wrist is visible. “Johnny.” His name shakes from your lips, and he relaxes, gentle concern replacing the relentless intensity in his gaze.

“Shhh, hey. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didnae mean to upset ye.” You're still frozen, a statue, and he reaches for you, trying to grab onto your hand. The heat of his skin breaks you from the spell, and you force a robotic, bedside smile onto your face, scooping up your half empty bowl.

"It's okay." You need to get out of this room. Now. The walls feel too close, Johnny feels too close, everything is compounding on top of you, threatening to derail your entire life, ruin your plan. They cannot like you. They cannot care about you. They cannot show interest in you. You can’t let this happen. “I’ve gotta check on some other patients, okay? I’ll swing back your way in a bit.” You promise him, guilt eating you alive about running away, and when he gives you a sad smile, you almost lose your resolve.

“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll see ye later, then.” He murmurs, and you try not to trip over feet during your hasty exit.

Fuck. You’re so fucked. 

Simon and Johnny’s house is finally silent.  

Penny is down, safely tucked into dream world, her grainy grey-scale image flickering on the video monitor at Simon as he pours two fingers worth of bourbon into a glass.

Poor baby girl. His stomach twists. She put up such a fight tonight, hollering at the top of her lungs, standing up in her crib, working herself into an absolute state. He hates leaving her alone to cry, and on nights like this one, the only way she’ll close her eyes is if she’s being held, snuggled in Johnny's arms, or against Simon's chest. 

He’s a sucker, he knows. Doomed from the day she was born, but he can’t help it. Neither of them can. She’s their baby.

So, he doesn’t blame her for being so out of sorts. She always sleeps better when her Da is home. They both do.

His phone vibrates with a text, a short message from Johnny, and he scrolls through it, settling on the couch with his laptop, unopened email from Laswell blinking impatiently.

>She’s jumpy. Tired. Looks like she hasn’t gotten any sleep. Simon frowns.

> She manage to find a pair of panties for work today?

>Unfortunately. He can practically see the pout on Johnny’s lips, can hear the way he probably huffed and puffed when you first came into the room this evening, your hips swishing side to side, pretty smile on your face for him.

>I think I made her upset. Simon pinches the bridge of his nose. Johnny, love. Why can’t you listen? He takes a deep breath, trying to relax the worry that’s creeping up the back of his neck. 

Disagreements aren’t for text messages. They’ve learned that the hard way. 

>Take it easy for the rest of the night, then. She’s skittish. He shoots off the recommendation, and then pulls his laptop across his knee, clicking open the email from Kate.

Simon,  Your girl is a ghost. This kind of wipe work is professional level… are you sure she’s a nurse?  I’ve attached everything I could find, but it’s pretty scarce. The name you provided pulled a copy of her NHS nursing license, her taxes, an award she won at work last year, and a COVID vaccination record. No birth certificate, state identification, or public records of any kind, even after a global hand search. Nothing that even proves she exists or is an American except a sealed record from years ago in the states. It’s not accessible, even for me, which means it could be WITSEC, or a court ordered name change in relation to a domestic violence case. There are 18 states that seal those records to protect the victim, so she could be from anywhere. My gut says it’s probably the latter, which is why she doesn’t exist prior to.  You’ll notice on the vaccine record, she marked ‘unhoused’, and I couldn’t find any lease/rental agreements, sale records, or mortgages in her name.  I wish I had more for you, but she really is a bit of a puzzle. I’ll keep digging.  -K.L. 

There’s an unsettling rattle going off in the front of Simon’s skull. It’s a siren, a smattering of warning bells, and he swallows the rest of the bourbon in one go, embracing the burn that slides down the back of his throat.

Who are you, little bunny? And who are you running from? 

[bomber-grl]

Mike Schmidt relationship headcannons !

Pairing(s): Mike Schmidt x Gn!Reader

Note! Has some plot | This is my relationship headcannons for movie Mike, stating this because I just might make video game Michael Afton headcannons aswell in the near future

Very closed off and not looking for a relationship

He had hired you to take care of Abby when he was away and that’s how you two began getting closer.

Not the best conversation starter, however when you gave him the opportunity to speak about the dream theory he starts going on about it.

Then he apologizes and begins feeling a bit unsure and awkward.

It never really advanced from there and he’d almost constantly apologize and reassure that he’d pay you soon, but you never really cared for it.

Really peaked his interest when he realized that Abby had really grown to like you and began inviting you to do things with the both of them.

You, of course accepted and eventually Mike had started developing feelings for you.

Just as you did for him.

He didnt act on them at first.

Primarily Because he doesn’t see himself in a relationship, especially not with someone like you with him.

You were amazing, and he was a sad grown man who had to care for his little sister, and not even in a way he saw proper.

So of course he shuts it down, telling himself it’d be better off that way.

However, some way, somehow you got involved with Freddy’s pizzeria and you not only managed to save him but also Abby.

Then from there it just went uphill.

He got a better job, better pay, and is able to connect with Abby easier.

Not only that but the custody battle has been leaning in his favor.

He had no one to thank but you.

You’d take Abby to school, occasionally cook for them, and you were always reliable.

One fateful evening you and Mike were just hanging out in the living room.

Talking and just watching whatever was on TV.

Then he brought up your relationship, and stated that he’d really like to start one with you, a romantic one, that is.

You of course, said yes, and he was relieved and happy at your reaction.

But then Abby came to mind, what would she think?

You asked him this almost immediately.

But he reassured and said that the final push was actually when Abby hinted/teased her older brother about your potential relationship, then ran off.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and an awkward atmosphere hung in the air but then Mike went to hold you hand and it made it semi better.

The next morning you almost immediately told Abby and she was so happy.

Which really relieved the both of you.

-

Things had changed, albeit subtly.

And although Mike wasn’t the most physically affectionate, probably due to him being pretty much touched starved and traumatized.

He tried his best to convey his affection towards you with teasing and joking around.

You’d often just enjoy the others company and bond mostly with Abby around.

If you were to ever do something even a little bit flirty around her she’d immediately be grossed out.

Which was funny, and was mentally noted to ever do again in her presence, even if it was just a kid friendly comment.

Your guy’s first kiss was pretty intimate

I mean Mike had never seemed much interested in kissing or doing anything further down the road.

However, after a particularly draining day, and horrible weather outside, Mike had offered you to stay for the night.

Abby was so excited and the three of you played with her just a little bit over her curfew then sent her off to bed.

When you were finally able to be alone, Mike, very awkwardly and a bit bashful, offered for you to sleep in his bed.

You, like the amazing person you were, rejected and said that it was fine and that he should just sleep there.

Not completely understanding that Mike didn’t mean separate, but together.

Once he bashfully explains that all you can do is mutter out an “oh” and go along with it.

Pretty awkward as you both just lay down as stiff as rods in silence.

Then you guys begin talking.

And it’s just you two talking about whatever at like 2 a.m, trying your best to keep it down.

If you decide to be bold and make a move by asking if you could cuddle with him, then he’d hesitantly agree.

Again, not because he hates you, but because he’s an awkward guy.

So once you’re settled in each others arms you start talking about each others traumas and mostly hidden things.

It’s the sleep deprivation getting to you guys.

Well once you’re both finished venting and just being vulnerable you decide to make a move and lean forward, giving him plenty of time to move if it’s not wanted.

But he didn’t, and the clash of your lips followed soon after and how drawed out it was won’t be mentioned by either of you either.

Things not only start changing and he’s side hugging you more (publicly)

Although not really into pda

And be more affectionate (as he can)

I’m sure at one point you get so comfortable with one another that although awkward moments occur, most of them spent together is just you saying cringe stuff and making him regret ever making it out alive of Freddy’s.

From then on, not only do you tease and get a worthwhile reaction but he’s always hugging and giving you cheek kisses in private.

He’s also grown fond of cuddling, just because of how close he gets to be to you.

If you were to ever tell him he’s hot.

He’d get really taken back but then laughs it off and says whatever.

(Saying this because I know those fans of him exist 😭)

Honestly it’s kind of hard for you to tell when he’s being sarcastic or not😔

He’s always making snarky and joking remarks and hard to tell when he’s just being his sassy self.

Honestly home dude is just trying his best and his relationship with you really lightened up his life even more.

Note! Should I make a pt 2 with Mike as your husband?

[shallyouobeyme]

From the Outside

Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2 (Coming soon)

Platonic!Yandere Batfam x Neglected Batsib!reader (GN)

Summary: You were living your life as a stranger in the house you were supposed to call home, an outsider in a group of people who were supposed to be your family. So you do your best to keep yourself distracted from your situation and go on with your life. But just how long will you be able to keep on with that?

! Minors Do Not Interact !

Requested by @sol565

TW: Not much in this one, neglect (obviously), loss of relatives, car crash (mentioned), cancer (mentioned), swearing, coming up to Yandereness in the next chapters. I'll try to proofread and edit once I finish the whole thing.

Last night you dreamed of your family again. It was a pleasant dream, one that had you wishing to keep on dreaming even after you were woken up by your alarm. All of you were sitting at the dinner table, enjoying Alfred’s excellent cooking. The room was filled with happiness and joy, the kind of atmosphere that has you reminiscing about that day for ages. In your dream you felt so weightless, Damian was sitting opposite you as he listened to you talk about your day, an anecdote of you leading to laughter filling the room. Your mother ruffled your hair from where she was sitting beside you and as you smiled up to her you felt filled with love. Around the table, the Waynes were actively interested in the conversation and Bruce was asking you a question leading to a cheeky comment from your left side. You knew what was said, but you couldn’t understand the voice. Confused you looked to where your father should be sitting but only a distorted shadow figure looked back at you. 

It opened whatever would be most akin to a mouth and a blaring sound echoed out of it. Your eyes flew open as you slapped your bedside table to grab your phone. 7 A.M, time to get up. This dream had been haunting you for a few weeks now, the idyllic family dinner turning into an unpleasant reminder of your situation. At first, you had woken up in a cold sweat and slightly fearful from the end, but by now you had grown very accustomed to it. Just another part of your day to get through. 

You accepted to pay the mental price for the opportunity to see your mother again, if only during the nights. 

Another look at your phone to check the notifications and you got up and got dressed. Given the time you knew that you still had enough time to join your adopted siblings for breakfast, but even Alfred's amazing pancakes and french toast could to move you into the kitchen. Deciding to just nap something from your friends during lunch break at school, you grabbed your bag and jacket before quickly making your way through the manor. Like almost every morning you silently prayed that you wouldn’t come across anyone on your way to the front door. Eighty per cent of the time you were lucky, fifteen per cent you were just ignored and the other five per cent you found yourself stuck in painfully awkward small talk with the people who lived on the same floor as you. People who were supposed to be your closest friends and confidants. People who weren’t that. People who were more akin to strangers.

Today you were in luck as you managed to slip out of the giant house you hated to call home without having to talk to anyone. Getting onto your scooter, you made your way to the school, enjoying the air in your face through the helmet and the feeling of freedom that only came to you on rare occasions. 

The school was still fairly empty when you arrived - as was expected - so you had the honour of walking through the empty halls like you owned the place. A sentiment that some of your schoolmates even believed. You wanted to tell them that you had no need for your Guardians money, no interest in his family’s name or his family’s reputation. Bitter thoughts filled your mind, leaving a taste of anger, of disappointment, of anguish on your tongue. They weren’t helped by what you saw when you stopped in front of the trophy showcase. There were pictures of some of the best former student-athletes that had attended the school, and the most recognizable was a picture that was proudly displayed right on eyesight. It was at a sporting event that had happened some twenty to thirty years earlier, one that was still held bi-annually. The winners of different disciplines were smiling proudly into the camera, arms around each other. 

Taking the spotlight was a man that every proud Gothamite would recognize as a young Bruce Wayne on one side, a different boy who people tended to overlook based on his less noticeable features and the lack of fame he had, and in the middle of both of them stood Bruce’s former best friend. Your mother. Your late mother. 

She had been a beautiful, stunning, talented woman. Everyone who had ever known her told you that. You tried to take some solace in the fact that they told you how alike the two of you were, both in looks and in personality. It did nothing to quell the underlying pain though, the pain still boiling inside you, pain that over the years had turned into anger. You weren’t angry with your mother, of course, you knew that she had not chosen to fall sick, that she had not chosen to succumb to cancer. She had loved you with all her heart and only ever wanted you to be happy. This is why, when your grandparents died in a shooting shortly after her diagnosis, she put it in her will that after her passing you were to be taken care of by her lifelong friend Bruce Wayne. After all, he already had kids and he was rich, just like she and her parents had been - money and estates that now waited on you to turn 18 to take charge of - and he’d be surely able to give you the life and the love she always wanted you to have. 

Sadly, your mother had not known Bruce quite as well as she had believed she did. She had no idea that he spent his nights as the infamous Batman, or that the kids he adopted had been turned into fighting machines - sometimes even killers. She had no idea that he was not the amazing, loving and attentive father figure she had wanted you to have. Not even close. 

You suppose he had tried at one point. When you were a young child, grieving the loss of your entire family and everything that you had known, he had taken you in like one of his own and assured you that from then on he’d protect you. Back then you had believed him. After all, your mother had told you so many great things about him, why should she lie. And with elder brothers and sisters, a Butler who made sure you had your favourite foods whenever you felt sad and a man who tried his best to be the father you never had. They did lots of work to spend time with you and to pay attention to you which would ensure you wouldn’t notice their weird habits and absences. But of course that couldn’t work forever. After a few months, you found out about their best (and somehow at the same time worst) kept secret and as you walked through the Batcave by Bruce’s side everything changed. He didn’t directly offer to train you, but he did insinuate that it was an option, though you declined. You couldn’t see yourself hurting others. You wanted to help like your mom had helped, by volunteering, bettering the world peacefully. Bruce had assured you that that was a completely acceptable decision and that it wouldn’t change anything. But he had lied. Perhaps knowingly, perhaps not. Maybe some of both. 

Once you were aware of their second life, they didn’t put in the effort to pay enough attention to you to make you unaware of their secret. At first, they still spent time with you, but over time it seemed like you were blending into obscurity like a special bottle of champagne that was planned to be open on a special occasion only. Just that the bottle was usually remembered after the occasion had passed in annoyance. You weren’t. And as you phased out of their minds and into oblivion, you made peace with your place in the family. An outsider, a stranger inside their house, just waiting until the time had come for you to finally live your own life. 

Of course, you knew you could have it worse. You had enough money to fulfil every wish you had as long as it was material, always had something to wear, something to eat, and somewhere to sleep. The only thing you didn’t have was love. But especially in Gotham you knew that you got away rather luckily with that, so while you were deeply angry towards the people who had promised to treat you like family, to love you, you also tried to just get on with your life. 

It would have been easier if it wasn’t just so hard to look at your so-called siblings as if you didn’t resent them for the way they treated you, compared to one another. Somehow showing any interest in you or attempting to spend any time with you was a chore, but somehow Jason and Cass could have a little book club, Jason and Dick could go out for lunch at a cat-cafe, Steph, Cass and Tim could have Spa-days and all of them could have an occasional movie night together. It wasn’t explicitly stated that you weren’t welcome, but you had seen how they acted when you were with them compared to how they acted when you were hiding behind the door listening in. They seemed so much happier without you. As if your mere presence ruined the mood. So you started rejecting their invitations to join and it only took one of two attempts of them to stop asking completely. 

You might have been able to cope better with the obvious dismissal of your existence if it had been because you hadn’t been part of the family when they had forged their close bond, but somehow, even when Damian joined, acting like a complete asshole to everyone around him, they managed to include him and when he warmed up to them he joined their close group. 

So your newness surely could not have been that big of an issue right? Even Damian, completely new to the family and surely aggressive towards all of his pseudo siblings, seemed to know you were less than the others since he didn’t even bother to insult you, instead opting to ignore you. Completely. A glance spared, looking you up and down, and he had decided you were not worth it and his opinion seemingly still hadn’t changed. Sure by now you had talked with him a few times, but you could say the same about the fucking mayor of Gotham so you were sure that did not really count. 

Sometimes, you lay in your bed at night, wide awake, wondering just why you were worth so much less in their eyes. What you had done wrong. Two answers usually presented themselves before you. Either it was because you weren’t a vigilante, something that you might even have been willing to accept, or it was… you. Just you. And for some reason, that was the answer that seemed more plausible to you. Maybe you were just unpleasant to be around, not fitting enough for their family. Not interesting enough, not Wayne enough. 

And so you were cursed to live your life like a ghost in what is supposed to be your home. Going in and out every day, just waiting for the day to come when you could move into the penthouse your grandparents had bought you before they died, which would become your legal property in just a few years. You’d start anew. Maybe one day, after a long time and probably a lot of therapy, you’ll be able to start your own family. One that you’d promise not to fuck up like Bruce had. Until then though, you’d go on like always, spend as little time in that Manor as possible and try to distract yourself from your reality. 

You really did spend very little time at the manor. For one, no one in that house cared when you left or when you came back except maybe Alfred, but even he either knew that you could properly use the freedom or he was too busy to care. Probably a mix of both. And along with that, you had started a very active life outside of your family. You had a lot of friends, though you were not ready to call any of them close friends, always knowing about how many of them were after the publicity of your actual and current family name and the money and fame connected to it. But they were nice enough and they distracted you so you didn’t mind. Especially because you used said popularity to help the people in town. You managed to get a lot of your friends to volunteer alongside you in different homeless shelters, though a lot of them tended to post dozens of pictures which made you feel a bit icky about them trying to profit from helping others, but you knew you couldn’t complain because it did help the shelters. The shelters told you so themselves. 

Most of your ‘pocket money’ was donated and the rest of the time was spent doing different activities, be it arts, sports, parties or just wasting the day away. You did your best to cram as much into your day-to-day life as you could to keep you from thinking too much. To stop you from thinking too much about how messed up you were now, how you couldn’t even confide in any of your friends, how you didn’t even really manage to call them your friends, because you couldn’t allow yourself to let anyone close to you anymore, because you knew you weren’t worth it, because you knew you’d be disappointed and hurt again. 

These dark thoughts were kept inside, slowly eating at you like termites, while on the outside you kept on being the happy-go-lucky Gotham personality that people loved to follow. Though you didn’t post a lot on your own social media, your friends and people around you did, which the public loved for some reason. And so you kept up the act, because what else could you do? Let people know you’re hurting? So they could ridicule you for your rich people's problems? Or keep out of the public eye? And have to face the lonely darkness that was your life? No, you’d rather keep on pretending like you had been for years now. Even if it meant being a piece of entertainment for other people who could turn on you at any second. 

The day at school was mostly uneventful, only a short moment of passing by Damian ruined your mood as your classmates did their usual shtick of asking if that wasn’t your brother and you trying to shrug them off, after all, how do you explain that your brother treated you like air not worth breathing? So you changed the topic by announcing that you’d go help out at a local shelter after school and asked if anyone wanted to join. Some excused themselves but a few agreed, which led to a group of five of you coming into the shelter a few hours later after some mandatory selfies so keep your friends placated. There was a bit more traffic inside than usual - a few people definitely not in need of help - which was probably because one of your friends posted your plans on their socials. That was something that you had to begrudgingly accept. You couldn’t afford their anger, so you made a compromise with them that they could post stuff like that, but that they couldn’t post the exact location (which in your opinion was just common sense, but it seemed not a lot of people shared that).

Ignoring the people only there to see you or be near a Wayne, you focused on helping those who needed your help, though aware of the effect you could have on the shelter business, you helped out in the kitchen where people couldn’t see you. You didn’t mind, you liked cooking and you and the fellow kitchen staff had a sort of harmonized rhythm. It even helped you get lost in thoughts that didn’t make you wanna cry, so when you got interrupted in your flow, you almost jumped in shock. One of the organizers had tapped on your shoulder. 

“Y/N, there’s a man outside that wants to talk to you,” Marcus told you and nodded towards the door to the front.

“They still haven’t left? I’m really sorry Marc, if you think it’s better if I leave, then I will,” you sighed, annoyed by the turn of events. 

“No, it’s not a fan. At least I think, he’s- well, he claims to have something really important to talk to you about. He gave me this to show to you, said it’ll show you he’s serious,” Marcus shrugged and held a picture out to you. It was an old Polaroid of a young couple smiling into the camera. Your breath hitched. 

“Is he the guy in the picture?” you asked with a newly found seriousness.

“Yes, at least he looks like it. Is the woman-”

“Yeah, could we use the office? Only if you’re okay with it, of course.”

“Sure, no problem, go ahead, I’ll bring him to you in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you earnestly smiled at Marcus as you made your way to the door that led to the office. You were used to being nervous, but not quite as nervous as you were then. This could change a lot of things, everything if it was what you imagined it to be. You looked at the picture in your hand again before sitting down behind the desk and putting it down on the desk. There were steps behind the door coming closer, so you took a deep breath as you wiped your hands on your pant legs. The door opened and in came a man who looked just like the guy from the Polaroid. He seemed familiar, not just from that snapshot of the past, but something in his face rang a bell in your memories. You mustered him, trying to keep a stern exterior as you didn’t know if this was going to be what you thought it would be. 

Marcus gestured the man to sit down on the other side of the desk, before giving you an encouraging nod and closing the door as he left. 

“Hello,” you greeted the man, hands intertwined before you on the desk.

“Hello,” he responded alike and you could feel his curiosity burning through you. Had you misinterpreted this? Was this just another weird fan?

“This picture,” you looked at it again before sliding it towards him, “how do you know my mom?”

A/N: So, what do y'all think? Let me know in the comments or in my inbox ❤️ Also, I'd appreciate feedback on the title as well, not sure if I should change it or keep it.

[cameronspecial]

Rafe and reader - enemies to lovers

Protective!rafe with innocent!reader

She asks her best friends brother for help when she’s in trouble!

Safe In The Arms Of The Enemy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Fear of Being Followed and Walking Home Drunk Alone

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Y/N and Sarah have been best friends for as long as she can remember. Even though Y/N is three years older, they met when she was nine and Sarah was six. The two of them just clicked and they have been thick as thieves ever since. This led to their families growing close together. The Camerons were always so nice to Y/N; everyone except for Rafe. For some reason, he has always been bothered by Y/N and she reciprocates that feeling because his hate provokes her.

The music in Sarah’s room blares through the speakers while Y/N stands in front of the mirror, singing along to “Stressed Out” by Twenty One Pilots. She is sleeping over at the Camerons' house to keep Sarah company. Ward, Rose and Wheezie are on the mainland for Wheezie’s spelling bee and Rafe is who knows where. The girls had grown peckish, so Sarah offered to get some pizza, leaving behind her best friend at Tannyhill by herself. “Wish we could turn back time. To the good old days. When our mama sang us to sleep, But now we're stressed out.” Her right hand forms an o as she uses it as a microphone. Her focus is on her own reflection, so she doesn’t notice Rafe’s appearance behind her. He leans against the door frame with his arm above his head. “Wow, you would think with how rich your parents are that they would pay for singing lessons for you after hearing you screech like a banshee,” he teases. 

Her eyes roll in their socket and she turns to face him. She fires back, “Like I care about your opinion. I’ve seen your tastes and I’m glad that I’m not up to your standards.” “Whatever,” he grumbles. “Obviously you are blind because I have amazing tastes.” 

“Nah, I’m not the problem. You are,” she pushes to infuriate him. She steps forward and they are face to face. He crouches down so their eyes meet, “I wish I was the one with the problem because then I wouldn’t have to deal with you. I swear every time I see you at my house, which is all the time, I wonder when you are going to get the fuck out of my life because I hate that you are in it.” 

His words don’t meet his eyes, but she doesn’t notice. Instead, her mind takes the words to heart. A poke attacks her heart and it causes a tsunami of blood to come out. She can’t explain why she takes the word to heart; she returns the sentiment. Nevertheless, maybe she doesn’t feel as strongly as he does because as much as she loathes him, she couldn’t imagine her life without their quipful exchanges. He sees her tight lips and her silent demeanour; guilt flashes through him.

Before he can try to resolve the situation, Sarah passes behind him with a steaming pizza in her hand. “Ugh. Rafe, leave her alone. I would like to eat in peace,” she complains, setting the flat box on her desk. His hand runs over his lips as he thinks. “Fine, I don’t care. Later losers.” 

———

The ending of summer means Rafe and Y/N have to return back to UNC. When she found out he was going to the same university as her (she should’ve seen it coming because Ward is an alumnus), she hesitated to accept her position; however, she figured uni was a big place and the chances of running into him were slim. It has been true for the most part. They’ve only run into each other five times in the two years they have been at university.

She stumbles through the dark street with her head pounding. It wasn’t the best idea to be walking home alone while drunk, except she didn’t want to make her friends go home early. She lied to them and told them another friend was picking her up. Her feet catch on the pavement and a rock skips across the ground. A car passing beside her causes her to jump away from the road. Her inebriated state makes her more paranoid. She lets out a breath when the taillights fade into the distance. Laughter coming from behind her causes her to spin around. She spots men walking in her direction and even though they don’t appear to be looking at her, panic sets through her. She begins to walk faster as her breathing starts to get faster and she decides to run into an alley to hide. Her first thought is to call to help, so she pulls out her phone and dials the first number that comes to mind. “What do you want?” he grunts through the phone. “Rafe, I’m scared. I don’t know what to d-” She hears footsteps coming closer to her and hangs up. A trash can seems like the perfect cover, so she drops behind it against the wall. 

Rafe sits up straight from the couch and stares at the phone. The screen showing that the call has been ended makes him grow anxious. He begins to pace as he tries her phone again. His hand runs through his hair while he replays the fear in her mind. He is sent to voicemail and wants to through his phone against the wall. Another thought comes to mind and he decides against it. 

———

She doesn’t know how long she has been behind the garbage with her head pressed against her legs. She is honestly too scared to move in case those men are still around. It didn’t look like they were following her, but it is better safe than sorry. The alcohol in her system starts to affect her state of consciousness and she struggles to keep her eyes open. A hand on her back causes her to scream and jump back. Her head hits against the brick wall. She grimaces as she brings her hand up to rub the back of her head. “It’s okay, Sweetheart. It’s me, Rafe.” The familiar voice makes her look up to verify his identity. 

She sees his mop of dirty blonde hair and his stunning blue eyes stare back at her. She has never been so happy to see him. Her arms wrap around him to pull him against her, “I was so scared. Are they still out there?” She surveys the street once they separate. His hand cups her cheek to check her for injuries; he isn’t concerned about their surroundings. “Sweetheart, there is no one around. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did someone do something to you?” He frowns at the last part, following her search with a hard expression to find the person he has to defend her against. She doesn’t find anyone and her shoulder drops in his hold. Her head rests against his chest. Tears begin staining his shirt. His hand laces between the hair at the nape of her neck and he gently scratches her scalp. He knows it soothes her. He kisses her forehead, “I’ve got you. You are safe.” For the first time tonight, Y/N feels safe and she is in the arms of her enemy.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[wineauntie]

evie making friendship bracelets and giving them to everyone on the canucks 😭❤️ that would be so cute. and they’d all have each players initials and number and every bracelet would be unique for each player :(

FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS — family is family au

au masterlist

Six year old Evie nervously clutched onto Quinn’s hand as they walked into the Canucks locker room. It was just a normal practice, but Evie had recently taken up a new hobby— bracelet making.

And this new hobby led to her discovery of friendship bracelets.

Both, you and Quinn’s, wrists adorned at least 3-4 bracelets made by Evie at any given time.

She’d grown bored of making them solely for you, Quinn, Jack, Luke, Ellen and Jim, that naturally her next port of call was to make friendship bracelets for the Canucks.

Quinn had been more than happy to support Evie's new endeavor, knowing how much it meant to her. As they entered the locker room, Evie held a small, colorful bag filled with bracelets, each one carefully crafted with different patterns and colors, and each player’s initials and number woven into the design.

"Hey, everyone," Quinn called out, drawing the attention of his teammates. "We have a guest here, who has a present for you.”

All eyes turned to Evie as she squeezed Quinn’s hand tighter.

“Hi,” she nervously waved, her small voice echoing around the room.

A chorus of hellos erupted as Evie giggled at the volume. Majority of the team had known and met the little girl on various occasions and each of them grinned upon seeing her.

“Evie has something for you all,” Quinn continued, glancing down at the girl.

The room fell silent once again as the players looked over, curious smiles spreading across their faces. Evie re-tightened her grip on Quinn's hand, flushing with a mix of excitement and shyness.

Elias Pettersson was the first to speak up as he approached Quinn and Evie. Evie had met Petey multiple times, even calling him uncle Petey every now and again.

"Hey there, Ev,” he grinned, crouching down to face her as his hand briefly reached out to ruffle her hair. “What do you have for us?"

Evie took a deep breath, summoning all of the courage she could.

"I made friendship bracelets for everyone," she spoke quietly, reaching into her bag. She pulled out a bracelet with his initials and number, handing it to him. "This one’s for you."

Petey’s eyes lit up as he took the bracelet, immediately slipping it onto his wrist. "Wow, Ev, this is so good,” He smiled, fist pumping the giggling girl. “Thank you!"

One by one, Evie handed out the bracelets, each player accepting their unique piece with genuine delight. She paused in front of Conor Garland, who examined his bracelet with wide eyes filled with admiration.

"This is so cool,” he praised, sticking out his hand for a high five. “You did an amazing job!"

Evie beamed and high-fived Garland, her confidence growing with each player's praise. She handed one to Boeser, who grinned widely.

"I'm never taking this off," he declared, showing the ‘Boeser 6’ blue and green bracelet off to the rest of the team.

As Evie finished distributing the bracelets, Quinn knelt beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"You did great, Bug," he whispered proudly as the team gathered around Evie, and showered her with more compliments and high-fives.

"Looks like you’re apart of the team now," Petey playful saluted her.

Evie's eyes sparkled with joy, her nerves completely dissipated as she looked up to Quinn with a wide grin, tugging his sleeve to get him to bend.

"Thank you, Dad" she whispered once he’d bent down to listen to her.

Quinn chuckled, ruffling her hair. "You’re welcome, Bug." He whispered back, pressing a quick kiss to her hairline.

The players resumed their preparations for practice, each one proudly wearing their friendship bracelet.

The friendship bracelets remained on for the following few games, causing an uptake of curiosity amongst the press and fans.

Quinn, on his way back to the locker room after a game was stopped by an interviewer to talk.

"We've noticed a trend on the team lately—many of the players have been wearing these colorful bracelets. Can you tell us more about that?"

“Yeah, those bracelets were actually made by my daughter, Evie. She recently got into making friendship bracelets.” Quinn smiled, glancing down at his own wrist, which was adorned with several of Evie's bracelets. “I ran out of wrist room so she decided to make one for each of my teammates."

"That's a sweet gesture. How did the team react when they received them?"

"They loved them. It’s not every day you get a handmade gift from a six-year-old.” Quinn chuckled, recalling the day. “Each bracelet was made with the player’s initials and number. It really lifted the spirits in the locker room.”

"That's wonderful to hear. Why do you think it had such a positive impact on the team?"

"Well, I think it's a reminder of what really matters," Quinn said thoughtfully. "It’s hard to be in a bad mood when you’re wearing a bright, colorful bracele."

"It sounds like Evie has made a big impression on the team. Do you think she’ll keep making bracelets for your teammates?"

"I’m sure she will. She loves making them.” He explained with a faint smile, “She’s even talking about making more for other people too."

"That's fantastic, well, it's great to see the impact such a small gesture can have. Thank you for talking with us, Quinn.”

"Thank you," he nodded and retreated to the locker room.

The interview went viral, with many people commenting that they’d never seen a Hughes brother talk as much as Quinn had in the interview.

Many commenters also acknowledged how his eyes lit up at the chance to talk about Evie.

[niningtori]

supermodel | oneshot

part two

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after beomgyu ghosts you after three (what you thought were) really successful dates, your close friend asks you if she can date him instead. you, being the pushover you are, say yes. but beomgyu's not done bothering you.

genre: romance, angst, smut (MDNI!!!)

warnings: MDNI!!! cheating (but it's lowkey justified if you ask me), unprotected sex (no!), oral (f. receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, manipulative!beomgyu if you squint (lmk if you catch it lmao), if i missed anything lmk

word count: 6k (ouuu... definitely not 13k i'm sorry anon my love)

notes: ...hi. so, as most of my followers know, i primarily write angst. this is my first time ever posting smut on here and i genuinely don't know if it's any good. if it's bad,,,, i'm sorry in advance!! see ending for more notes :)

you do not like beomgyu. you don't like the way he keeps his hair so long, or the way he tucks it behind his ears when he's focused. you don't like that he has the same music taste as you and how much of a snob he is about it. you don't like the way he laughs obnoxiously loud and you especially don't like the way his cheeks dimple like little whiskers when he does it. no, you don't like beomgyu one bit.

it hasn't always been like this. there was a time, albeit brief and fleeting, that you really liked the aforementioned grievances you've grown to hate so much. in fact, you liked them so much, you even liked the boy himself. that ship has sailed, though. and it sails further and further as you watch him cuddle up even closer to one of your closest friends, hana. you aren't a bitter person, really. you're usually pretty laidback, all things considered, so when hana asked you if she could date the boy who ghosted you after three (what you thought were) really successful dates, you said yes. 

do you regret agreeing? well, how can you regret it when hana looks so happy? in fact, she looks happier than ever as beomgyu discreetly places his hand on her inner thigh. oh man. you think you're gonna be sick.

-

meeting beomgyu was like a meet cute in a romcom. you were alone in a cafe (cliché, but true) when he pulled up a seat and sat next to you. he was cute, he was charming, and, most surprisingly, he was actually really funny. he made you giggle more than once and you almost couldn't believe someone so seemingly perfect wanted anything to do with you, but he did. he was extremely eager, if anything, because as soon as you gave him your number, he texted you asking if you wanted to go out sometime. you, with your innocent heart, could only agree. 

your first date was at that same cafe. he had memorized your order, even though he had only met you once, and you felt so flattered your heart skipped a beat. you're a little on the shyer side, but he was able to pull you out of your shell with ease. you'd later find out he has the ability to do that with everyone, but back then, you were amazed by how naturally he pulled it off.

after your first date, you'd texted all your friends about it. they asked for pictures and details, but you said it was too early and you didn't want to jinx it. you're the type to try not to get too caught up in the moment in favor of being more realistic, so it had been a pleasant surprise for most of your friends to hear how excited you were. this could really be something special, you thought. 

and special, it was. your second date had been at a nice restaurant you'd never heard of. beomgyu was pulling out all the stops for you and spared nothing when it came to giving you the royal treatment. he was courteous and kind, but still mischievously flirty. you were enamored with everything about him. you were used to being treated kindly on dates, of course, but you had never seen anything quite like beomgyu. it seemed like he couldn't get enough of you, which was a novel feeling, though totally welcomed.

you finally felt confident enough to tell your friends all about him. when asked, you had no problem divulging all the finer details of your dates. you had nothing but praises for him, and even sent one of his instagram pictures to show off his good looks. most of them were taken aback at how handsome he was. hana, however, was not at all surprised. it shocked you to find out that she knew beomgyu, and knew him well. she had floated in the same circle of friends with him in college and you were pleased to find out that he had always been a really nice guy, if a little flighty at times, but he had never been that way with you. plus, it seemed to you that he had matured quite a bit. for once in your life, you got your hopes up. but, like most things, you would come to regret it. 

your third and final date had been simple enough. he had asked you to come hang out at his place, but said his friends would likely be coming and going. it was nice. it was intimate. his apartment was small and a little messy, but filled with personality. you smiled when you saw polaroids he had taken of (and with) his friends adorning his bedroom walls. he seemed really sentimental, actually, but you liked that about him. you liked everything about him, really. 

so when he leaned in for a kiss while watching some dumb old slasher flick, you closed your eyes and prepared to meet his warm lips. this was real. you would have a boyfriend, a near perfect one. and he liked you. he really, really liked you. what more could you ask for? but you never expected that a phone call would pull you out of your daze. you checked the caller id and immediately became worried. hana very rarely called you, but she said she was having an emergency and you, being the good friend you are, had to bail on beomgyu. the emergency in question was her having a meltdown over some guy she had never even mentioned, but had apparently really liked. you had no choice but to go to her place, bringing a tub of ice cream and all of her favorite snacks in tow. beomgyu said he understood, because of course he did, and said he would text you with other plans. 

when he, in fact, did not text you first with plans, you had opted to text him yourself. you figured he had just forgotten or something, so you simply greeted him and apologized again for having to leave. it seems so fucking stupid to you now — the way you waited so anxiously by the phone for a reply that would never come. you remember staying up all night and jolting every time your phone buzzed. you were anxiously awaiting a text, a call, fucking  anything, really. but it was pointless. after a few days of radio silence on beomgyu's end, you had pretty much resigned yourself to the fact that he would never respond. what did you do to scare him away? you thought you had done everything right, but you must’ve come on too strong or something. you felt utterly humiliated. 

you were in your head again. it wouldn't surprise you if you had imagined the whole fucking thing, actually. but a few weeks later, hana had texted you asking if you were okay with her dating the boy you'd been waiting for. she seemed so hopeful and so happy, how could you say no? just because it didn't work out between you two didn't mean that it couldn't work out between them. maybe, deep down, the ugliest parts of you kind of hoped it wouldn't, but when she texted you with all the filthy details of the first time they hooked up, you knew you were thinking too highly of yourself. 

-

beomgyu doesn't like you, and even if his refusal to text you back wasn't enough of an indication that that's the case, his attitude towards you while dating hana tells you everything you need to know. the way he manages to antagonize you over what would normally be completely menial things should be studied. when you trip over your words, he makes a point to call it out and laugh, which results in you, of course, tripping over your words even more. when you look like shit, he makes sarcastic comments along the lines of "oh i see you've decided to really doll yourself up this evening". what's worse is you're so non-confrontational, you just let him chirp. 

what you don't know is that the more unbothered you look, the more eager he is to elicit a reaction out of you. it drives him crazy how nothing seems to drive you crazy, so he pushes and pushes, but it's like a fist landing on cotton. he's on the brink of madness trying to get you to say something, anything. but you never do. you just smile or shake your head and it's all he can do not to snap. 

-

you’re at your favorite bar when you meet him. you’re not alone, or at least you shouldn’t be, but hana has gone outside to make a call. usually, you’d be the first one to accompany her, but you’re honestly not in the mood to hear her flirt with beomgyu (or beomie bear, as she calls him) over the phone. you never are, really, but especially not now as you down another shot of whatever the bartender has deemed as “the strongest shit they’ve got.” you don’t think you look particularly attractive at the moment, but when jay sees you, he’s flocking towards you. 

“hey,” he says with a smile as he slides onto the stool next to yours. 

“hey,” you reply shyly. are you imagining things or did he seriously just blush at your answer? 

“i-i’m jay.” you can’t help but giggle at how nervous he seems. cute. 

you take the time to introduce yourself and jay seems relieved that you’re actually receptive to his awkwardness. you like the way it feels to be in control for once. you like the way it feels to be wanted so much. so when he asks you if you want to go out in the near future, you say yes.

in the midst of your conversation, hana comes sauntering back in with a dopey grin on her face. she has, no doubt, just gotten off the phone with beomgyu if her satisfied expression is any indication. her satisfaction turns into surprise when she registers who’s sitting next to you.

“jay?!” she exclaims, taken aback by the familiar boy next to you. 

“hana? oh my god, how are you?” he asks, standing up and pulling her into a hug. “we went to college together,” he explains when they part. your previous happiness crumbles in an instant. the nasty part of you wonders if she knows fucking everybody you’re interested in, but you shut it down mercilessly. it's not hana’s fault she's so likable. it's your fault for not being more so, actually.

“i’m good,” she says with a light giggle. they catch up for a moment before she drops an atomic bomb. “you know, i’m actually with beomgyu now.” 

“damn, really? i thought that would never actually happen,” he replies, genuine shock falling across his sculpted features. your interest can’t help but be piqued at this.

“what makes you say that?” she asks rather defensively. jay can tell he messed up from her tone and he backtracks immediately. 

“o-oh nothing. i just never pegged you two as compatible, but congratulations! i know you’ve liked him for a long time.” ?... ??...???? what the hell? 

“what is he talking about?” you can’t help but ask confusedly. hana looks thoroughly reddened as she fumbles for an explanation.

“i-i liked beomie back in college. n-nothing major!” she stammers. you can do nothing but stare. she liked beomgyu and she never told you? well, you were half in love with the boy after three dates and you’re still half in love with him, actually, so it’s not particularly surprising that she fell for him, but the fact that she never mentioned it feels iffy at best. jay can sense the tension, and he cleverly excuses himself with:

“shit, my friends are here. i’ll text you soon?” he says, looking to you for confirmation. you manage to muster up a smile and a nod, but you’re still disturbed by this revelation.

“... are you mad?” hana asks tentatively. 

“n-no. of course not!” you say with conviction, but deep down, you know you’re uncomfortable. she probably knows it, too, but she doesn’t pry much further.

“i’m glad you’re not mad,” she sighs. “anyway, it’s not like you’re dating him now.” she pokes at the sore spot on your heart with ease. maybe if she were more sober, she’d see the hurt on your face, but as it is, she doesn’t register a thing.

so hana liked beomgyu back in college? why hadn’t she told you? well, you guess it doesn’t make a difference now. she’s with him. you’re not. what else is there to say, really? but in the back of your mind, gears start turning. you just don’t know it yet.

 -

hana has been a lot nicer to you than usual after that night at the bar. she’s always nice, but she seems hellbent on making sure your prospective date with jay goes well. you suppose it’s her way of making it up to you for withholding her secret crush on beomgyu from you. to be honest, there’s no real reason for her to do so, but you accept her kindness graciously. now, the night before your big date, she’s practically hounding you with questions.

“what are you gonna wear?” she asks over the phone. 

“mmm, i dunno yet,” you hum into the speaker. you really don’t know. jay invited you to a house party, which is not the most romantic place in the world, but hana convinced you that he’s just awkward and a group setting (with drinks, no less) would loosen him up. you realize that you want to impress him. you want him to think you’re the most beautiful girl in the room, but nothing you have in your closet quite fits the bill.

“ooh, i know! you can just borrow one of my dresses. what about the black one? the one you complimented last time we went out! i won’t be home tomorrow night, but i’ll leave the key under the mat, okay? so just come grab it when you’re free!” she sounds proud of herself for coming up with that. you don’t have the heart to tell her it’s a little too scandalous for you, so you grit your teeth and accept her peace offering.

“mmm, yeah. that sounds good. thank you, hana,” you reply.

“pay attention to meeee,” you hear a deep voice cut in from over the phone. beomgyu. you try not to think about the way your heart aches when you hear him (very loudly) plant a kiss on… some part of her body. you’re not exactly sure where it is, but you falter when you hear her reaction.

“beomie, ah, not there,” hana moans and you feel a pang in your chest. “hey, i’ve gotta go, okay?” you don’t have to imagine what they’re about to do and it hurts.

“okay,” you say with a bitter smile, but the call drops before you can even reply. 

-

it’s finally the night of the date and you’re anxious, to put it mildly. you don’t know how long you spent trying to get your hair and makeup right, but an ungodly amount of time has passed. you’re almost tempted to skip getting the dress from hana’s apartment, but you really don’t have anything else that suits the occasion, so you begrudgingly hail a cab over to her place. 

you enter her apartment and head toward her bedroom, where the pretty black dress is waiting for you. with a sigh, you strip out of your sweats and shimmy into the dress. you look in hana's bedroom mirror and you have to admit that you look pretty good. you feel a lot more confident going out with a guy as handsome as jay now. as you’re fixing up your hair one last time, you’re stunned to hear the apartment door opening. she’s home? weird, but welcome. you need a second pair of eyes on you.

“hey! how do i look?” you say with a smile as you exit her bedroom, but you’re not greeted with hana’s smiling face. instead, you’re met with beomgyu’s frown. 

“w-what are you doing here?” you ask, genuinely surprised. 

“this is my girlfriend’s apartment. what are you doing here?” you thought he had heard over the phone that you’d be here to pick up the dress tonight. but then, you supposed that he may have been a little preoccupied sucking the skin off of hana to really pay attention to much else. you’re so busy over analyzing this, you don’t even notice how intently beomgyu is staring at you now. even if you did, you’d probably misread it as ridicule rather than what it truly is. 

“nothing, i-i’m on my way out,” you reply simply. with that, you start trying to walk past him. before you can, though, he’s asking you questions.

"you're seriously going out with him? in that, too?” he asks, disgust apparent. at least, that’s what it sounds like to you. your eyes survey your own attire and you feel extremely small in this moment, all things considered. normally, you'd shut down and second guess yourself. maybe you do look a little ridiculous in this tiny dress and maybe going out with jay is a bad in idea. maybe he's just fucking with your head and maybe he'll toss you away just like beomgyu did. maybe, maybe, maybe. but then? maybe not. and even if he does, you don't want to hear any of that shit from beomgyu of all people. 

"oh, fuck you, beomgyu." 

he looks perfectly scandalized by your comment. you’ve never talked back to him before, and certainly not like this. his eyebrows raise and his jaw drops before he can finally choke out the words "e-excuse me?"

"i said fuck you. i really don't give a shit about what you have to say anymore." 

you're again trying to barrel past him but he steps in front of the door, scowl etched into his pretty features.

"what? are you mad at me now?" you say mockingly. "well, you don't get to be mad at me. move."

it is genuinely amazing to see beomgyu as he is now. he looks like a child who's floundering for a comeback. 

"w-why are you mad? i'm just looking out for you!" oh, you can't help but laugh in his face at that one. he winces when you do.

"my god, that's rich coming from you. what's the worst that could happen? we go on a couple of dates and then he ghosts me? can't say it hasn't happened before."

"th-that's different!" he sputters, face flushing beet red.

"different how?!" you counter. he’s such a fucking hypocrite. you're not the type to get so riled up, but his words have you seeing red. his next words, even more so.

"you... you don't even like me!"

"and why exactly would i like the man who ghosted me, again? you can kick rocks for all i care!" you try to steady your breathing. blowing up like this right before your first date with jay can't be good for your head. luckily, it seems like beomgyu is still fishing for words when you regain your composure. "whatever. i'm done. goodbye, beomgyu." you reach around him for the door handle, but he slams it shut. 

"what the fuck?!" you exclaim exasperatedly. 

"you don't understand," beomgyu says, voice trembling and eyes scarlet. "hana said you didn't like me." 

"hana? what does hana have to do with — oh." oh.

"she said you didn't like me and thought i was obnoxious. she told me she called and interrupted our date because you wanted her to.” 

“why didn’t you just ask, beomgyu? i liked you!” you exclaim. he ruined everything all because of a few words from someone else? 

“why would i ask when hana told me that you didn’t want anything to do with me?”

"so you believed hana instead of just opening your fucking mouth? what, does she wipe your ass and spoon feed you, too?

“watch your mouth,” beomgyu says lowly. 

“or what?” you taunt with a smirk. “you’ll be mad? is beomie bear gonna lose his temper?” you’re on your tiptoes now, face mere inches away from his. where you got the confidence to provoke the man who towers over you even on the worst of days, you have no idea, but the idea of seeing beomgyu squirm is lighting a fire in you you didn’t know existed. is he gonna hit you? scream in your face? you’re excited to see how he reacts. when his gaze flickers from your smiling eyes to your lips, you don’t even get half a second to question his odd look when his lips come crashing down onto yours. 

his big hands grip the back of your head, holding you in place as he punishes your lips with a force you’ve only ever dreamt about. his lips are chapped and you can taste a hint of his favorite lip balm, which he had smeared on just before his arrival. you’re too shocked to move, you’re too shocked to do anything besides gasp when he bites your bottom lip. he takes your open mouth as permission to shove his warm tongue into it. you want to say the kiss is full of fire, and it is, but there’s an overwhelming sense of gentleness, too. it’s hard to put into words, so instead of trying to, you let yourself melt into the feeling. he takes your acquiescence as a sign to go even further. at this point, he’s practically dragging you over to the couch. you’re surprised at how you don’t even attempt to resist when he pushes you down. you’re seated now and he licks his lips hungrily as he lifts your pathetic excuse for a dress off of your body and tosses it somewhere behind the couch. his eyes alight with something akin to raw anger when he takes note of the fact that you are, in fact, not wearing a bra.

“you were seriously gonna go out like that? what a whore,” he says menacingly. you’re now clad in nothing but your favorite pair of underwear. you would usually feel insecure in front of such an intense gaze, but beomgyu looks at you like he wants to devour every part of you. and he will, with time.

“i thought jay would like it,” you shrug. his eyes burn even brighter and he looks like he’s on the brink of snapping. god, fucking with him is so exhilarating. is this how he feels when he’s trying to get under your skin? maybe you do understand why he antagonizes you, actually. this shit feels amazing.

he kneels down before you and possessively kisses your neck until it's numb — pouring out hot kisses and sucking on the skin there like he’s staking his claim. it’s almost like he’s daring another man to touch you, and he doesn’t have to say anything because it’s like you already understand his intentions, and you revel in it. 

his lips travel down to your breasts and they almost ache in anticipation. cruelly, he avoids your pert nipples and opts to circle his tongue around them, sucking on the soft skin and leaving marks in his wake. one of his hands move down to your underwear and he stops his teasing when he feels how wet you are.

“j-jesus, is all this for me?” you’re too embarrassed to respond. he’s trying to keep his cool, but he’s taken aback by how soaked you are. he was already hard just from the kiss alone, but now he aches. he slides your underwear to the side and actually groans when he sees your slickness for himself. slowly, teasingly, he finds his way to your clit and you let out a soft gasp when he finally touches it. you’re unable to stifle a moan when he gingerly takes one of his long, calloused fingers and begins to push it into your cunt. 

“t-tight!” he hisses. “how am i gonna fit?” you’d roll your eyes in annoyance at his self-aggrandizing words if you could muster up anything other than the feeling of pure bliss as he slides another finger in. he’s kneeling between your legs, and you feel some sort of sick satisfaction as you watch the boy lick his lips before trailing opened-mouth kisses on your thighs as he inches closer and closer to your cunt.

you feel his cool breath against your core and you’re seconds away from begging him to continue, but he seems even more eager than you are as he quickly buries his face into your heat. his first lick is long and slow, but you can feel the vibrations from his moan and it reverberates through your legs all the way to your toes. as if he’s a man starved, he messily licks and sucks on your pussy while pumping his fingers in and out mercilessly. you have to hold onto his long hair, not because you want to hurt him, but because it’s the only thing keeping you sane. when he hooks his fingers, you can’t help but call out his name. 

“b-beomgyu!” his darkened eyes snap up to meet yours while his pace becomes even more punishing and, before you know it, you’re spasming around his fingers. he should stop there, but he continues with little kitten licks until you’re begging him to show you mercy. 

he reluctantly parts from your cunt and you can see evidence of your release dripping down his chin. his messy hair, his soaked face, his fucking everything looks like it’s been branded by you and you can’t help but gulp, heat pooling in your stomach again, far too soon after your intense orgasm. usually, a man would wipe his face and clean himself up, but he does nothing of the sort as he leans towards you and practically pleads with you to kiss him.

“so good, want you to taste it,” he says simply as he pulls you in for another filthy kiss. he looks possessed, almost, by your taste. by your scent. by you.

your cum mixed with the taste of beomgyu himself is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. he wraps his tongue around yours, as if he’s selflessly just trying to share this new discovery.

he unbuckles his own pants like a madman, hastily yanking them down. so hypnotized, he doesn’t even think to take them off all the way, nevermind his shirt. his cock springs up and it’s thick and long, the angry veins juxtaposing from his perfect, doll-like face. he was right. you don’t know how he’ll fit in your tight pussy.

still, he ruts his bare cock against your throbbing cunt and you both moan when it accidentally catches against your entrance. 

“c-condom?” you ask breathily. 

“p-please, please just let me feel you. i can pull out,” he whines. who are you to say no to a man begging?

“...o-okay,” you begin to choke out, and almost before you can even finish, he’s pushing himself in. you both groan at the feeling. he meets resistance before he’s even halfway in and his eyes redden with a lust so strong it almost scares you. 

“s-so tight, so perfect for me,” he says before pulling out and harshly ramming himself back in, sheathing himself completely in you. your eyes begin to sting with pure pleasure. he sits for a moment, just enjoying the way your pussy sucks him in. nothing in your life has ever made you feel this heavenly. not that you’re going to heaven, especially after this, and certainly not if hana has anything to say about it. oh my god, hana.

“w-wait,” you interrupt before he can pull out again. “we can’t! hana—” 

“don’t give a fuck about hana. j-jus’ want you,” he slurs with that lisp that you love so much. and that’s when he really starts. ruthlessly, he sets his pace. ramming into you as the filthy sounds of skin against skin and slick against slick permeate the room. his head lulls back in sheer ecstasy and you’re crying out his name over and over, like a mantra. it’s the only thing chaining you to reality. that, and his viselike grip on your thighs. 

“so g-good, so warm. never h-had a pussy this good before,” he praises as he continues drilling into you. one of his hands snakes its way to your clit and you’re seeing stars. hot tears spring in your eyes and you’re literally crying as his cock pushes you further and further off the deep end. 

“so fucking good for me. you wouldn't even care if i came inside, would you, slut? walking around in that tiny dress, just begging to be fucked.” 

“n-no! i’m not begging f-for anything,” you manage to choke out.

“really? but you look pretty fucking desperate right now. should i stop?” he asks with a mean smile, slowing down the speed of his hips snapping into yours.

“please don’t! i-i’m sorry. please don’t stop!” you whimper. he wasn’t gonna stop, anyway, but watching tears pour out of your eyes at the mere thought of his cock not being inside of you brings him to another level of smugness.

“shh, it’s okay, baby. i won’t stop. i’ll give you exactly what you need.”

“b-beomie!” you cry. “not gonna last much longer!” 

“me neither, pretty girl. fuck, come with me, okay?” he hisses. 

“come inside?” you plead. he almost stills at this, but his brutal pace never stops despite it all. 

“fuck! i knew that good girl act was a sham. you want me to get you pregnant so everyone knows who you belong to?”

“yes! d-don’t care. just want you,” you whine, mirroring his words from earlier. that’s enough to make him lose himself. his resolve snaps and he’s painting the inside of your walls while you helplessly clench around him. it takes a minute to catch your breath and you can’t help but lock eyes with beomgyu as he stays buried in your warmth. his gaze is still lustful, that much you know, but there’s an unknown feeling teeming in his eyes, too.

gingerly, he pulls out and you both watch as his cum trickles out of you. his eyes are alight with fascination and you don’t doubt for a second that he wants to lap it all up and feed it right back to you, but he doesn’t. he simply grabs your cheeks and pulls you in for another heavy kiss.

“wanted to do this for so long,” he says after you part. 

“how long?” you can’t help but ask. 

“since i saw you sitting alone at the café,” he shrugs and smiles shyly. he’s wanted you since he first saw you, which is enough to make you grin, but the blissful smile is wiped off of your face when you remember beomgyu isn’t just some random guy who’s attracted to you. he’s hana’s boyfriend. 

you know now that she orchestrated the downfall of your relationship with beomgyu, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel guilty as hell for fucking her boyfriend on her couch. oh my god, what have you done? you fucked your friend’s boyfriend in her own home. not only that, but you fucked raw and even let him come inside. you shiver when you recount his nasty words about getting you pregnant, and he really might’ve. you’re not on the pill or anything. oh god. 

“i-i need to get out of here,” you say frantically. you hurriedly push him off of you and wince when you feel his cum leaking out of your cunt. you stumble to the bedroom, legs still weak from what just transpired, and grab your sweats and snake them back on. 

“what are you doing?” beomgyu asks, confused and somewhat annoyed that you’ve effectively ruined the mood. 

“i’m getting the fuck out of here. this… this whole thing was a mistake,” you say, on the verge of tears. you don't even deserve to cry, honestly, but you want to, anyway.

“a-a mistake? why? wait, don’t go!” he says, stepping in front of you again. 

“beomgyu, are you fucking with me? you’re with hana! why wouldn’t this be a mistake? oh my god, and i-i’m not — i don’t take birth control. we really might’ve… fuck just move, please!” you plead. you think you might be on the verge of a panic attack, tears and snot streaming down your face. you just wish he would fucking move so you could get out of here and start fixing everything because the guilt you feel just by seeing his face is all-consuming. there’s no way you can face hana again after this. you’ll cut her out of your life, and when you’re courageous enough, you’ll tell her what you did to her. you’ll lose hana and all the rest of your friends once they hear about what kind of person you really are. and as for beomgyu, well, knowing hana, she’ll stay with him and you’ll be the homewrecker in this story. 

“hey, shh, it’s okay,” beomgyu coos softly, taking your tear-streaked face in his big, warm hands. “talk to me. what are you thinking?” “i… i ruined everything,” you begin with a sob. “i hurt hana. you hurt hana. a-and everybody’s going to be so fucking mad at me. god, she’s never going to forgive me.” 

“listen,” he says softly while rubbing the pads of his thumbs against the tears falling down your cheeks. “she lied to you, and she lied to me, too.”

“because she loves you, beomgyu. she only did it because she loves you so much,” you argue, tearing your face from his grasp, but he only locks his arms around your waist instead. 

“and what about me? what about how i feel?”

“what are you trying to say?” you sniffle.

“i’m saying i meant it when i said i don’t give a fuck about hana. i’m sorry, but i don’t. i never did,” he says as if he’s coaxing a child. you want to believe his words so fucking badly, but you’ve seen the way they’ve been attached at the hip these past few months and you can’t help but feel like he’s just a) full of shit and/or b) pussydrunk on you. he can sense your apprehension and wants to tear his own hair out in frustration. 

“can i be honest with you?” he asks.

you nod in response.

“i… i only started hanging out with her because i knew she was close to you. i don’t know if it’s because i wanted to get back at you or if i just wanted to see you more. maybe a bit of both, honestly. i-i know that’s wrong, but it’s true.” you’re at a loss for words. all you can ask is:

“why?” he chuckles at this. 

“because i like you, dummy,” he says sweetly while releasing one of the hands that grips your waist, using it to fix up your hair. he likes you? the same beomgyu who has effectively harassed you for the past few months… likes you? 

“you have a fucking hilarious way of showing it. i thought you hated me,” you retort. 

“i was just teasing,” he says softly. “i just wanted you to notice me and nothing i did ever seemed to bother you.”

“well, it did,” you scoff. 

“i’m sorry,” he says sheepishly. “i just like you a lot, okay? i’m sorry for being an asshole. and i’ll make it up to you, i promise.” you want to say okay, but the fact remains that he’s still very much hana’s boyfriend. regardless of his feelings, you still betrayed her and your friends aren’t going to be very understanding of your situation with him. the only chance you have of retaining your friendships now is to cut beomgyu off and beg on your knees for forgiveness. but you like him. you really, really like him. and the temptation to relent is even stronger as he begins to plant kisses on your face along with promises to dump her and, in his words, to “be good from now on”. when his innocent kisses turn lustful and begin to trail down your neck, what else can you do besides agree?

notes pt. 2: so...? i hope this was okay i really do LMFAOO. i have no idea how this will be received. if it's bad, i might delete it because i truly don't know what i'm doing. anyway, feedback is always appreciated! it gives me the confidence to branch out like this so i'd love to hear from y'all :)

permanent taglist*: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast

*minors and ageless blogs on my permanent taglist were not added for obvious reasons. i made the taglist before i decided to make supermodel smut, so if you would like to be removed from this or any future smut works, please message me!

[villainousauthor]

Hero continues to rock the wailing infant, trying to shush her. It's been hours, and still they haven't been able to get her to calm down. Nothing has worked, not a bottle, a diaper change, nothing.

Hero places their hand against her small forehead, checking for a fever, maybe. They feel so beyond their depth right now. Hero's barely slept the past day, and they're dead on their feet, eyes barely staying open.

"I wish you could just tell me what's wrong. This is so frustrating." Hero whines, still bouncing the crying infant.

"It's unfortunate, most babies can't talk." The familiar voice comes from behind, and Hero whirls around defensively to see Villain standing in the doorway of the nursery.

"What are you doing here?" Hero demands, clutching their child closer.

"You haven't come to fight me in months. I've sent out clear messages-"

"You mean constantly blowing up buildings and taking people hostage?" Hero interrupts, still holding their baby close to their chest.

"-but you never came. I was starting to think you died," Villain finishes eloquently. "I can see now that you've been a bit busy." They take a step closer, and Hero takes another step back, trying to keep distance.

This was bad. Hero very much intended that no one would know about their child, enemies especially. They could feel anxiety rising in their chest, clawing at their throat.

Villain eyes their movement before speaking again. "Shame, I would have sent a gift if I'd known. Who's the other parent?" Their eyes shoot back up to Hero's as they ask.

"No one. She's mine, her other parent is irrelevant." Hero says defensively. The baby continues to cry, face red.

Villain looks over the both of them, humming as they consider this. "So you're doing this alone. How long have you been up for?"

The question seems harmless, and yet Hero hesitates, still not trusting Villain. The way they ask though, seems simply curious.

"...A few hours now. I can't get her to sleep." Hero finally says quietly.

Villain steps closer again, this time slowly, as if to not worry Hero. "I can tell," They snort, but the words are soft, "You look completely exhausted."

"Jeez thanks-"

"May I try?" Villain asks, voice gentle. Hero looks at them like they've grown three heads. The very idea that Hero would hand their child over to Villain is so beyond ridiculous, that they can't believe they asked.

Vilain sees their expression and rolls their eyes. "I'm not going to do anything to harm her. I know you'd kick my ass if I even tried. I'm good with kids, and you look like you're going to fall over any minute."

They step even closer and lift a finger to the small baby, which she grabs with her chubby little hand. Villain chuckles at the sight.

Hero watches, eyes fighting to stay open. Villain is right, they do feel like they're on the verge of collapse any moment. Arms are heavy from continuously rocking the baby, legs feel like jello.

"Okay, you can hold her for a moment. But I swear to everything that if you do anything to harm her, your body will end scattered in tiny pieces across the country." Hero warns, their voice more deadly than it's ever been with Villain.

Villain simply smiles as they reach out for the baby. "I wouldn't expect anything less." They take her in their arms, holding her comfortably. Hero immediately collapses down into the nearby rocking chair.

They rock her in their arms like it's the most natural thing in the world. Hero watches on in surprise as she starts to calm down somewhat, though she's still fussy. The lack of wailing level crying is a godsend though.

"How in the world.." Hero asks, amazed at the sight.

Villain grabs a pacifier off the near by changing table, giving it to the infant. She accepts it easily and finally settles down.

"I told you I'm really good with kids. Plus babies just like me," They say as they look down at the infant in their arms with the most genuine smile Hero has ever seen, "Also have you considered that she might be teething?"

Hero raises an eyebrow before yawning suddenly. "Ah..no I haven't. I'm new to this, and I feel like I'm learning as I go along..."

"It probably doesn't help that you don't have any help either. Why don't you rest for a bit while I hold her?" Villain suggests, noticing how on the verge of falling asleep they are. "I promise I'll stay right here, and she'll be okay. You should get some sleep."

"I'm not so sure about that..." Hero replies, though their head is already starting to sag. "How'd you get so good with kids anyways?" They ask, their eyes beginning to flutter.

Villain chuckles quietly. "You don't get to unlock my tragic back story that easily." But Hero is already asleep, passed out over in the chair. Villain continues to hold the baby as they drap a small blanket over Hero.

[flemingsfreckles]

He’s Ours

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: you and Jessie have your first baby

Warnings: child birth I guess? But there’s nothing graphic related to it but better safe than sorry 🤷‍♀️

WC: 2.1k quick read :)

A/N: this was just a one shot because that middle photo of Jessie gives me massive baby fever, i want to have her babies.

“Oh he’s perfect, you made him perfect.” Jessie whispered to you. Her forehead was pressed firmly to yours and her eyes locked with yours. Tears were running down your face from both exhaustion and the overwhelming reality that you just gave birth to your first child. “I’m so proud of you, I love you. You did amazing.” She whispers, punctuating her sentence with a kiss on the forehead. Too tired to give her a verbal response you just closed your eyes and softly smiled at her.

Jessie had praised you all through pregnancy, she always made time to tell you how beautiful you looked, how well you were doing, how good of a mom you already were to the unborn child. It was no surprise to you how encouraging and supportive she had been, she was always your biggest fan, even before you were pregnant.

Jessie had been over the moon when you finally got a positive pregnancy test. The two of you had been in the process of trying for months, resulting in nothing but a pile of negative tests and more doctors visits. When you finally saw the two lines on the test you nearly passed out, Jessie had to help you sit down on the bathroom floor, getting you a wet washcloth for your face to help cool you off.

That moment from 8 months ago flashed through your mind when Jessie had held a washcloth to your forehead as you pushed, it felt like just days ago when you found out and here you were, already having the baby, time had flown by.

Your couple of two was now a new family of three. A nurse came over, placing your son on your bare chest, draping a blanket on top of both of you.

“Congratulations, Moms.”

“Thank you.” Jessie says to the nurse.

You crane your head downward to look at your son. He had a little bit of hair, his skin was red, his eyes closed. It was surreal, you couldn’t believe that the baby you had grown was finally in front of you. His hands were spread across your chest, gripping ever so slightly at your skin.

You bring up a hand, gently cupping your son's butt and back, his body fitting into your hand. Jessie brings a hand up, you watch as she hesitates before softly placing her hand slightly overlapping yours onto the upper back and shoulders of your baby. You can feel how lightly she is pressing, as if he’s made of glass.

“You’re not going to break him Jessie.”

“I know that in my mind, but I can’t, but he’s just so small.” She looks up from where she was fixated on your son, you can see tears on the brim of her eyes. The three of you stayed like that until the nurses came back to take him for some quick newborn testing. You almost didn't let them take him, you wanted to keep holding him, but they assured you it wouldn’t be more than 30 minutes and they’d have him back in your arms shortly.

You're not sure how much time had passed when you woke up, you’re whole body sore, feeling nearly hungover, tired, dehydrated, a hint of nausea.

“Hi.” You turn to see Jessie, she’s sitting at your bedside, holding your son who has been clothes and swaddled into a blanket. He’s quiet, awake but not making noise. “They brought him back a little bit ago, sorry I didn’t wake you but I figured you could use the sleep.”

“Thanks.” You have to admit you were a bit sad you missed his return but you were grateful your wife let you sleep. You couldn’t stop looking at her. The way she was holding your little bundle of joy, she was smiling, she hadn’t stopped smiling since she heard his first cries. She was looking down at him, making faces at him. She was wearing a black hoodie and a pair of training shorts from a day ago now. Her baby hairs sticking out from the hood in every direction. She hadn’t slept in nearly 26 hours but she looked perfect.

She had been at training when you called her. You actually had to call Janine, who was still working on her ACL recovery, she always had her phone on her unlike your wife. Jessie was set to take time off from training starting next week, a week before your due date, but your son had other plans and decided to grace you with his presence early. Janine thankfully answered on the first ring and went running to find Jessie. You were grateful that Janine was allowed to be running, or else she would’ve had to slowly limp or crutch to find your wife. You could hear Janine shouting at Jessie from across the pitch, followed by some talking but you were too focused on a contraction to listen. Seconds later Jessie was calling you, you hung up with Janine and got on the phone with Jessie, you stayed on the phone with her all the way until she came running into your hospital room. You were admitted to the hospital late that night and didn’t meet your son until early the next morning.

It was such a surreal feeling, watching Jessie hold him. You had seen her with other babies before, other player’s babies, friend’s kids, or just random fans' babies that she’s held for photos. That was truely what made you want to have a baby with her so badly. She gave you baby fever you had never had baby fever before you were with her. But nothing compared to the baby fever you felt seeing her with her hand on your son. You were ready to start over and have more of her babies the way she looked at him and looked at you with overwhelming love in her eyes.

Jessie stands up, walking over to you, holding out the bundle of blanket and baby. “Do you want to hold him? I can, if you’d rather rest more, just, you did all the hard work. I want to let you hold him if you want to.”

“Jessie you put up with me pregnant and trying to get pregnant for over a year, I think if anyone had the hard job it was you.” You extend your arms to her, she gently places your son on your chest. Jessie had been a saint during your pregnancy, getting up early with you when you were sick, staying up late to rub your feet. She would stand behind you and hold your belly, taking the weight off of you for as long as you’d let her. She would jump out of bed late at night to make you a snack no matter how early she had to get up. She would FaceTime you for hours on end when she had to be away. Jessie couldn’t have been a better partner.

“All his newborn tests came back good. I wrote down all the details so you could have them if you wanted but everything’s good. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a bus a little bit.” You both laugh. “But I guess that’s normal.” You point toward your water bottle and electrolytes that sat next to it, Jessie hands you both.

“The nurses and doctors are going to come check on you in a little bit too, they came in while you were sleeping but I asked if they could let you be for a bit. Since you didn’t have any issues and your vitals were fine they said they’d come back in an hour.”

“Okay.” You appreciated the heads up from Jessie, the doctors, the exams, the appointment, the stress, the test, were your least favorite part of pregnancy and she knew it, she tried her best to ease your discomfort and anxieties about it whenever she could. You were happy to know that part of parenthood was pretty much over, back to routine.

It was peaceful for a second before your son started wailing.

“What do I do? I don’t know what to do?” You’re wide eyed looking at your wife. A deep feeling of panic begins to build in your stomach. The reality that you’re now responsible for this little baby boy’s life sets in. You’ve never been a mom, you have no idea how to be a mom.

“It’s okay babe. You do. Do you want me to take him?” She wanted to help, her goal was to ease your stress. It was stressful for both of you being new parents but she knew you were experiencing it a little differently with the hormones from birth.

“No, I just don’t know what to do!” You’re on the verge of tears, you feel helpless, your son was crying and you weren’t sure what he needed. He was helpless and you were supposed to be the one to help him.

“Do you want to try and feed him again?” Jessie offers gently, you had tried to feed him earlier with the help of nurses but your son seemed to have no interest and it had left you feeling a little defeated.

“I guess.” You were hesitant but you weren’t sure what else he needed, he was warm, being held and didn’t need to be changed. Jessie held her arms out, taking him from you so you could sit up and get your shirt out of the way. While you were adjusting one of the nurses came in, letting you know that if you wanted help or assistance she was there but that you were welcome to do it on your own as well.

Jessie handed you back your son, she had unwrapped him from the tight swaddle. “The nurse said him being skin to skin might help.” You placed your son against your chest, offering him the chance to feed. You maneuvered yourself and your son with the help of Jessie until finally he had latched and was peacefully eating. You felt so relieved, finally feeling like you were doing a good job of being a mom. He ate until his mouth fell open, his eyes now closed as he drifted asleep.

“See.” Jessie whispered to you, “you do know what he needs, you’re his Mom. Even if it’s scary and new, you know how to help him. I’m here with you too, this isn’t all on you babe.” She placed a kiss on the top of your head and you craned your neck up, puckering your lips. She placed her lips softly on yours, not caring about the PDA in front of the doctors and nurses.

“You’re his Mom too Jess, his our baby boy.” You never wanted Jessie to feel like she was less of his mother because she didn’t carry him or birth him, she was equally his Mom as you were.

“I know, he’s ours.” You both can’t pull your eyes off the sleeping boy, laying across your chest, your arms holding him to you.

“I love you.” You quietly whispered to her, not wanting to wake your son from his sleep.

“I love you.” She whispered back, placing a blanket across both of you again, letting you drift to sleep while she kept a watchful eye on both of you, the two people she loved the most in this world.

[joelmillerisapunk]

Bfd/dbf catches u showering and/or masterbating please 🤲

you got me thinkin' nonsense

Dbf!Joel Miller x F!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 2,478

Summary: Joel's asked to watch you and your parents' house while they're away, and boy, does he take watching you seriously.

Warnings: 18+, f!oral receiving, unprotected p in v, reader has pullable hair, implied age gap (make it your own) use of darlin, sweetheart, baby, a bit of Joel convincing you.

Notes: my first request! Thank you, thank you, sweet nonnie 🥰 I hope you enjoy. I love a good dbf catching you doing anything. Also about to hit a milestone with followers and I'm hoping to do a lil fun thing for it 🥰 thank you to everyone for being so amazing and kind and lovely and welcoming. My short time here has been so so warm 💚 tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers

It had been a long day for Joel Miller. He just finished a grueling shift at the fire station and was looking forward to some much-needed rest and relaxation. But his plans were quickly dashed when he received a call from his best buddy, your dad.

"Hey, Joel. I hate to ask, but I need a favor," Al says, his voice sounds strained.

Joel sits up in his chair, immediately alert. "What's goin’ on?"

"Jen and I are taking a trip to the Bahamas for a week, and we were wondering if you could check up on the house and our daughter while we're gone.”

Joel sighs, running a hand through his greying hair. "Sure. But you know she’s not a little girl anymore, right? She's a grown woman now."

Your dad chuckles. "I know, I know. But she's still my little girl, and I just want to make sure she's okay while we're gone."

Joel smiles, feeling a surge of affection for his friend. "No problem. I'll keep an eye on her."

A week later Joel finds himself standing outside of his best friend Al's house, the keys jingling in his hand. He takes a deep breath and inserts the key into the lock, turning it until he hears the satisfying click of the door opening. Joel walks into the house, taking in the familiar sights and smells. He feels a pang of nostalgia as he looks around the living room, remembering all the times he and Al hung out here, watching football and drinking beer.

But there's no sight of you. so he makes his way down the hall, peeking into each room until he comes to your door.

But you're not in your room.

He frowns, wondering where you are. It's not like you to wander off without telling anyone. Even as a grown adult, you still always made sure someone knew your whereabouts. He checks his phone, but there are no messages or missed calls. As he turns back to the hall, he hears the faint sound of a voice coming from what sounds like the bathroom. So he decides to check just in case.

As he approaches, he hears the sound of water running and the faint sound of moaning. He pauses, his heart racing as he realises what's happening behind the closed door. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help it. Without thinking, he reaches out and turns the doorknob, pushing the door open just a crack. He can see you through the foggy glass, your naked body glistening with water.

His eyes widen as he takes in the sight before him. You're standing under the pulsing stream of water, your hand between your legs as you bring yourself to climax. He knows he shouldn't be watching this, but he can't bring himself to look away. He feels a surge of desire course through his veins as he watches you pleasure yourself.

You tilt your head back, letting the water run down your neck and body, and he can't help but stare. His eyes are drawn to the way your hips move as you touch yourself. The way you're grasping the walls to get some leverage. He feels his own body responding, his cock growing painfully hard in his pants.

He reaches down and unzips his jeans, pulling out his thick, ready erection, filling his hand. He starts to stroke himself, his eyes never leaving your body. He can feel his balls tighten as he watches you get closer and closer to your own orgasm.

But just as you're about to come, your eyes widen in shock as you catch sight of Joel standing in the doorway, his jeans unzipped and his thick, hard cock in his hand. You gasp, your body freezing in surprise as you realize that he's been watching you.

"Joel, what the fuck are you doing here?" you demand, trying to cover yourself with your hands.

But Joel doesn't seem to hear you. His eyes are fixed on your body, his hand moving a little faster as he strokes himself.

"Don't stop on my account, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "You look so fuckin' hot, touchin' yourself like that."

You feel a surge of anger and embarrassment, but there's something else there too – something that makes your heart race and your body tingle. You've always had a bit of a crush on Joel, and now here he is, watching you pleasure yourself.

"Fuck you," you say, trying to sound angry. But your voice comes out breathless and shaky, betraying your arousal.

Joel chuckles, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. "Oh, I fully intend to fuck you, sweetheart," he says, his eyes blazing with desire. Joel advances towards you, his cock still in his hand. You back away, your heart pounding in your chest. You know you should be angry, but all you can feel is a deep, primal desire.

"Joel, this is wrong," you say, but your voice is weak and uncertain.

Joel reaches out and strokes your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Sometimes, wrong can feel so right," he murmurs.

But you don't budge.

Joel's eyes soften as he looks at you. "Hey, hey," he says softly. "I'm not here to cause any trouble. Your dad asked me to check up on you while they're gone, that's all. I didn't mean to intrude." He pauses for a moment, then continues. "But I can't deny what I saw just now. You looked so beautiful, so alive. I'm not saying this is how things have to be, but I want you to know that I'm here for you, in whatever way you need me."

You can feel your heart racing as you look at Joel, your body trembling with a mixture of embarrassment, anger, and desire. You know that what he's suggesting is wrong, that it could ruin your relationship with your dad. But there's something about the way he's looking at you, that makes you want to throw caution to the wind.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Joel, I don't w -”

He takes a step back before you finish, putting his hands up like you're playing cops and robbers. You can see the disappointment in his eyes as he puts himself back into his jeans and turns to leave. But just as he reaches for the doorknob, you hear yourself say something unexpected.

"Wait," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I - I do want this, Joel, please. I just, I really don't know -"

Joel's expression darkens as he turns back around and walks up to you. He reaches out to grab a handful of your hair, pulling your head back so that you're looking up at him. "You don't have to know, sweetheart," he growls. "You just have to feel." He leans down to kiss you, his lips crushing against yours as his tongue demands entry into your mouth. You moan softly, your body melting against his as you kiss him back, your hands reaching up to clutch at his shoulders.

When the kiss breaks, you see Joel smile, his eyes burning with desire. "Let's not waste any more time." He takes your hand, pulling you toward the bathtub. "Get on the edge, darlin��," he orders, his voice rough with desire.

You do as he says, your heart pounding in your chest as you watch him move around the bathtub, positioning himself between your legs. He looks at you, his eyes blazing with desire as he reaches out and touches you, his fingers sliding easily between your wet folds.

"You're so wet," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "You want this as much as I do dont’cha?” Joel's fingers explore your body, teasing and tantalizing you as he strokes your slick folds. You moan softly, your hips bucking up to meet his touch as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. "Please, Joel," you gasp, your voice desperate with need. "Need more."

Joel smirks, his eyes glinting with mischief. "More, huh? Well, let's see if we can't take care of that for ya, baby." He leans down, his mouth replacing his fingers as he starts to lick and suck at your clit. You cry out, your hands reaching down to clutch at his head as he devours you with an intensity that takes your breath away.

"Fuck, Joel," you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure. "Don't stop, please, don't stop."

Joel chuckles, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. "I have no intention of stopping, sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to make you come harder than you ever have before."

True to his word, Joel doesn't stop, his tongue works magic on your clit as his fingers plunge deep inside you, curling up to hit the sweetest spot. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body tensing up as you approach your climax.

"Joel, I'm gonna come," you gasp.

Joel doesn't respond, his mouth and fingers continuing their relentless assault on your body. You can feel yourself spiraling out of control, your climax building up inside of you like a tidal wave.

"Joel, I'm coming!" You scream, your body convulsing with pleasure as you shatter into a thousand pieces. You grip onto Joel as hard as you can but doesn't let up, his tongue continues to lap at your clit as you ride out your orgasm, your body trembling with aftershocks.

When it's over, Joel pulls back, a satisfied smile on his face as he looks up at you. "See? Told you I'd make you come harder than you ever have."

You can't help but smile back, your body still tingling with pleasure. "You definitely did," you admit, your voice soft and dreamy.

Joel stands up, his cock hard and ready again beneath his jeans. "Good, I'm not done with you yet." He takes your hand leading you to your bed, instructing you to sit on the edge while he undresses. He steps closer, his body pressing against yours, you can feel his cock pressing against you too.

Joel's lips find yours, his tongue plunging deep into your mouth as he kisses you with a passion that takes your breath away again. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, and the sensation of his hard cock pressing against you sends a shiver down your spine.

"I want you, Joel," you gasp, your voice hoarse with desire as you break the kiss.

Joel smirks, "Then take me, sweetheart," he growls, his voice rough with lust.

You don't need any more encouragement. You reach down, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your entrance. Joel doesn't wait, his hips thrusting forward as he impales you on his thick, hard length. You cry out as Joel starts to thrust in and out of you, his hips moving with a rhythm that drives you wild. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to another climax, your body tensing up as you get close.

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

Joel doesn't disappoint. His thrusts become more and more intense as he brings you closer. "Come for me, sweetheart," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Come all over my cock, come on darlin I gotcha."

You can't help but obey, your climax building up inside you as Joel's thrusts become more and more intense. "Joel, m'gonna come again." You get out as your body convulses with pleasure as you shatter into a thousand pieces once again. Joel follows you over the edge, his cock twitching inside you as he comes with a low growl. When it's over, Joel pulls back, his cock slipping out of you with a wet sound. He looks down at you, his eyes softening as he takes in your dreamy state and disheveled hair.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice gentle.

You can't help but smile up at him, your heart still racing with pleasure. "I'm more than okay," you admit, your voice soft and dreamy.

Joel chuckles, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "I'm glad," he murmurs. "Because I have to admit, I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

You can feel your heart racing as you look up at him, your body trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. "You have?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel nods, "I've always had a thing for you, sweetheart. But I never wanted to ruin your relationship with your dad or my friendship with your dad."

You can understand where he's coming from, but you can't deny the way you feel. You've always had a crush on Joel, and now that you've experienced the passion that burns between you, there's no going back.

"I want this, Joel," you say, your voice firm and determined. "I want you."

Joel's expression softens, and he reaches out to stroke your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Are you sure, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice gentle. "I don't want you to do anything you're not ready for."

You nod, your heart racing with excitement and desire. "I'm sure, Joel," you say, your voice firm and determined. "I want you." You stroke his patchy beard, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

Joel's eyes light up, and he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. "I want to spend the rest of the week exploring every inch of your beautiful body."

And he does, taking you to heights of pleasure you never thought possible. By the time your dad and his wife come back from their trip, you and Joel have become inseparable, and you find yourself at his place more than not.

After a week of passion and exploration, you and Joel have grown even closer. You find yourself falling for him hard. You never thought you could feel this way about your dad's best friend, but here you are, head over heels for the man.

But you know that this is a secret that can never come out. You and Joel have talked about it at length, and you both know that the consequences would be disastrous. You're both aware of the potential fallout, and you're both committed to keeping your relationship a secret.

It's not easy to keep your relationship a secret from the world. But every time you're together, every time Joel touches you, every time he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, you know that it's all worth it.

You know that this was never meant to be, forged in the most unlikely of circumstances. But you also know that this is real and true and strong. And you're willing to do whatever it takes to protect it.

So you continue to see each other in secret, stealing moments of passion whenever you can. It's not perfect, but it's something. And for now, that's enough.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33

thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!

Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)

This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.

Tangerine, Tangerine

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 4494

_______________________________________

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 

You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 

Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”

“Green Two check.”

“Green Three check.” 

 It was just a kiss. 

“Green Four check.” 

 It was just a-

“Green Five check.” 

Just a-

“Green Six check.” 

Just-

“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.” 

It wasn’t just a kiss. 

You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron. 

This mission was straightforward - on a holopad. 

Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons. 

The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne. 

Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure. 

Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.

You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide. 

The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them. 

Simple. 

In theory. 

Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy. 

But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going? 

No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice. 

You swallow. 

You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart. 

I hadn’t just been a kiss. 

You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline. 

He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that. 

Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead. 

It made a lot more sense. 

Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own. 

They had always been close. Always. Best friends. 

Sickness bubbled in your throat. 

You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it. 

“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander. 

“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?” 

Hank chortled. 

Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist. 

Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you. 

“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?” 

Yeah. Now you had. 

The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains. 

Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet. 

You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…

But you had thought it was…

It didn’t matter. 

You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch. 

That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. 

Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence. 

It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons. 

A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands. 

You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next. 

Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?

“That one here, you see it?” 

“Yeah?” 

“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”

You’d laughed. 

“That’s me and you Moonbeam.” 

Moonbeam. That stupid nickname. 

You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you. 

“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.” 

That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’ 

You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on. 

It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal. 

Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay. 

Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures. 

“Fuck.” 

The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled. 

“Blue in place now!”

“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”

“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!” 

“How far away is the Delta?” 

“Calling in attack pattern!” 

You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game. 

That didn’t bode well. 

You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction. 

Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.

“Targeting not working!”

“It’s out!”

“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”

“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on. 

“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!” 

You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process. 

“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.

You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?” 

“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down. 

It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard. 

The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns. 

Good. 

But there’s so, so many of them. 

Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems. 

More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together. 

The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing. 

“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear. 

You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through. 

The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on. 

“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter. 

There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home. 

Frizz.

“No…” 

“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”

You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.

“Green Two check!” Cril.

“Green Three check!” Petal. 

Nothing. 

“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz. 

The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes. 

You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist. 

There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity. 

All you need is…

Another alarm. 

“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!” 

A chorus of yells answer you. 

A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely. 

And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard. 

The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot. 

“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist. 

Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected. 

You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons. 

You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull. 

It’s not enough.

You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough. 

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it. 

Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.

“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.

They must have scrambled after first contact. 

The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell. 

The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire. 

You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational. 

Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on. 

Two chances left. 

One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits. 

Poe shouts for you over the intercom. 

You don’t answer.

One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will. 

Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call. 

You don’t answer.

You fire. Hit. 

Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it. 

The canon doesn’t go down. 

You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him. 

You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.

“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do. 

Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 

“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 

You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down. 

Shouts over the radio, you barely make out- 

“-cannon’s down-”

“-Jump!-”

A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.

The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-

.

The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream. 

Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain. 

You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob. 

There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit. 

The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it. 

You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide. 

Make it look like you had a weapon. 

Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning. 

Can’t let them take you alive. 

There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down. 

For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull  yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot. 

You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue. 

You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…

.

When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear. 

I'm dead.

You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds. 

But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.

And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.

“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use. 

Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back. 

“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good. 

“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?” 

“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper. 

“What?”

“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-” 

“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.” 

You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe. 

Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.” 

You snort. 

He smiles. 

“Who did we lose?” 

Hank sighs, “three…”

You nod, closing your eyes for a moment. 

“There-”

There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.

You swallow, sickness building in your throat.

He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red. 

He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages. 

“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes. 

“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.

Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.” 

Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away. 

“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”

“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”

He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?” 

“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.” 

The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?” 

You nod. 

“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart. 

“You pushed her away?” 

“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…” 

“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”

“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.” 

He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes. 

“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”

“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”

“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head. 

He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating. 

You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly. 

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.

“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.” 

You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight. 

“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins. 

You scoff. 

“You are.” He kisses you again. 

You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home. 

“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.” 

You nod. “She’s a good person.”

He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.” 

You touch his cheek lightly. 

“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?” 

You shake your head in surprise and he nods.

“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.” 

You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper. 

Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance. 

Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted. 

“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[readychilledwine]

Hi, I have a fic idea. So Beron has somehow found out that Eris is scheming against him but Beron just doesn't know what Eris' plan is. So the reader is basically told by Beron to get close to Eris to find out his plan. But as time passes by, Reader falls for Eris and can't bring herself to tell Eris' plan to Beron in the court room but Eris over hears the their conversation and confronts the reader. He also asks her why didnt she snitch on him so the reader tells him that she loves him too much to do that. Then reader is attacked by Beron's soldiers or you can end it however you like. If you don't wanna write it, then it's okay but just let me know what you think of it🥺.

I think this is amazing and a twist on what we normally see for this storyline idea.

Tainted Love

Warnings - torture. Beron, cliffhanger. Angst and anger. Betrayal.

"Do you want to tell me why I caught you with my father tonight or do you want me to find out on my own?"

You took a deep breath, looking to the ceiling for strength. It had already been a hard day dealing with Beron. The last thing you wanted to be doing was dealing with an angry Eris now, too.

"Can we talk about it in the morning, please? I just want to enjoy dinner."

Eris looked at you as if you had grown a second head. "Tell now, or I will let Azriel tell me why he sent me there."

You had to hold back your eye roll at the mention of the shadowsinger. Since Eris pulled you into his bargain with Rhysand, a shadow has trailed you. Following you and relaying your every move to the Inner Circle and Eris.

It was fair at first. You knew that deep down inside. You were one of Beron's more talented spies, used for situations where the males just weren't enough.

You were soft, gentle, beautiful. It was easy for people to open up to you, and that was why Beron had picked you for this over his other options.

He knew Eris was plotting and playing against him. He's known for years. He just needed to figure out how.

That was where you came in. Eris has an eye for you since the two of you were children. He had loved you since you were teens. Now, as adults, Eris was absolutely in love with you. He loved you from the soles of your feet to the soft curl of your hair and every flaw in-between.

You, having never known love or safety, had walls he'd been trying to take down the second you began approaching him on Beron's command. You have naively expected his efforts to fail, but one night as you two danced in his kitchen, you realized they hadn't.

You were helplessly in love with Eris.

And your mission had changed.

You had started giving Beron information while also exposing fae in the court Eris needed taken out.

The master of coin? You caught him steal from under Beron and Eris's noses, in a ploy of his own to wipe out the family as a whole. You watched him burned by your High Lord the second that information was tortured from him.

His second general, the one Eris hated, you turned in for hiding tithes and embezzling from his territory. He was given a traitors death, sent to the forest to become one with the trees, ripped down flesh and all by their roots.

Beron had caught on, though. Each interrogation proved each fae you turned in was not working with Eris, nor aware of his plan.

You could still feel his hand below your dress, resting in your ribcage just above your heart. He was on to you, and if you weren't smarter, you too might meet that dungeon and those trees.

Eris cleared his throat and brought you back to him. "Don't make me ask again, little fox. Please just tell me the truth."

You set everything down and stepped away from the table, ensuring there was space between you two. "Beron knows you're working against him," Eris's face dropped before schooling. "He's known for awhile."

"For how long?"

You looked up, tears starting to fall as you realized this would be the end.

The second you told him, there were no more nights in his arms. No more shared kisses. No more hushed I love yous.

But telling him put him another step ahead of Beron. You had already launched him impossibly ahead. Beron would only figure out his plan when it was too late, when Eris had already made that final move and Death reached a cool hand out to take Beron.

"Since after the war with Hybern. He found a letter from the shadowsinger in your office. He had another of his spies decode it."

Eris nodded, processing everything slowly before standing himself. "And how, y/n, do you know all of this?"

"He told me when he asked me to get close to you and figure out your plan."

The confession was a hanging. Eris stood there nodding before taking his whiskey in his hand and downing it. "So all of this wasn't real. All the nights whispering about our dreams? All the plans we made? This all meant nothing to you?"

"You mean everything to me," your voice broke. "At first, yes, I was doing my job. But I fell in love with you when I saw who you were. When I realized who you wanted to be to this Court. To our home. I never told him anything. I've been distracting him with information regarding males you wanted taken out anyways."

Eris shook his head, his own tears beginning to fall. "I don't believe you. I loved you. I fucking loved you and you did this to me? To us? Even if you were telling me the truth, how am I ever supposed to trust you now? How can I trust you to rule at my side?"

No answer came from you. You stared towards your boots in shame. "Azriel can tell you everything that was discussed. I know you all have a shadow trailing m-"

"Because Rhysand didn't fucking trust you!" Eris broke down into anger. All formality has left him as he pulled at his short hair and paced the dining room of your small home. "Rhysand did not trust you and I should have never trusted you either."

You watched as he grabbed his jacket, "I am done. Do not follow me. Do not come find me. When Beron is gone, you will leave this court or I will have you killed. Your choice."

You couldn't help but to look up, tears falling and stinging your face. "Eris, please, I love you."

He paused momentarily, resting his head on the doorway. "I wish I could believe that, y/n. I love you more than anything, I always have, and I probably always will. But you lied. You played me."

"I did my job so he wouldn't kill me," you turned away from him, having thought he of all fae would have understood.

"Maybe it would have been better off if he had." Eris left, slamming the door behind him.

The news of your breakup hit the courts quickly, too quickly for you to pack and leave.

Which is why you found yourself tied to a whipping post in Beron's private dungeon. He had sent some of his men for you, allowing them to best you before dragging your unconscious body here."Turns out your cunt isn't as powerful as you think it is, is it dear y/n?"

You didn't respond, knowing that would only make day 3 of this torture worse. "You had one job, and you failed me." You felt Beron's hand trail your back before grabbing the collar of your dress and ripping it down to bodice. "Such a shame, too. I find you absolutely exquisite. Maybe my son just has higher standards or different tastes than I do."

You didn't have time to prepare as the first lashing came, ripping your skin open and causing your mouth to fall open in shock. "How many do you think you deserve, y/n? Not only did you fail me. You also allowed him to bed you, losing all power and worth you may have thought you had to me, and what little information you did give me, while useful, never gave us an answer on my son's impeding betrayal." Another lashing had you crying out, body leaning against the pull as the cuts overlapped and merged together.

Beron ran his hand up your back again, knee digging into your spine as he pushed you into the whipping pole and put your hair up into a bun. "Do not fret, little doll. I won't leave marks where anyone besides me will be able to enjoy them if you survive."

You lost count of his strikes after 20. You couldn't even respond anymore to them. You felt Beron's chest against your back as he untied you, allowing you to fall to the ground, body too broke to hold itself up.

He left you there bleeding on the dirt, unable to move to clean the deep wounds or even take a proper breath.

The last thing you remembered seeing was a flash of wings and red hair, rushing to you as the world faded to black.

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[totalswag]

Drew Starkey and Actress Reader are together for a while now, they're in a place, you know celebrities meet at a party or parade or exhibition something like that. That's when they meet the Reader's ex boyfriend, they get along well, they've moved on, on good terms but Drew seems a little jealous, i see him asking little questions, but in reality he has nothing to fear since he trusts her a lot, he knows she loves him so much back. Can you do this please ?

unexpected encounter — DREW STARKEY

authors note thank you for the lovely request! sorry this took awhile to be posted. life has been very busy. i hope this is what you were looking for lovie.

summary drew meeting your ex for the first time and he seems to be jealous.

warnings jealous drew thats it

Golden Globes after-party is tonight.

Since you announced your relationship to the world, this will be your second public appearance together. Drew was dressed in an all-black suit to compliment her basic black dress with a bit of shine to draw attention. You like to match your outfits here and there.

This was also an excellent opportunity for Drew to meet new people in the film industry as well as some of his favorite actors and actresses. When he met some of his favorite people, it warmed your heart to see him so happy and giggly.

As usual, there was a large crowd at the after party. You were able to communicate with other actors and actresses. Your father is a well-known actor, and seeing some of his former co-stars is always pleasant.

In the middle of a conversation with Margot Robbie talking about her recent film, Barbie, you heard a familiar voice call out your name.

Margot excused herself, saying, "I'll see you later." She tells you, "Love you, sweet girl," before pulling away from the hug.

She’s amazing.

"Oh, hello, Y/N. It's been a while; how are you?" Your ex-boyfriend, Adam, came into view, astonished to find you there, but smiled at the end.

“Yes, it has been a while and I’ve been great, you?” You reply with a normal tone. “This is my boyfriend Drew, he’s also in the film industry” wrapping your arm around his, looking up at him with a soft gaze.

No matter how you ended things with Adam, you still had love for him at the end of the day.

You can feel the stress increasing in Drew’s body. He only becomes like this when he detects a threat and he wants to protect you at all cost. You’ve stated to him in the very beginning of your relationship you were in a two year relationship with Adam, also in the film industry. You ended on good terms and moved on from each other.

You have no feelings for Adam.

The only thing on your mind was why your partner was acting like this. A million thoughts race through your mind as you try to figure out why.

You can understand why he is suddenly acting this way. You would have the same reaction if you met Drew's ex for the first time. He knows you just have eyes for him.

"Nice to meet you, Drew," he adds confidently, extending his hand.

"Adam," he said, firmly shaking his hand. "You play Rafe Cameron on the Outer Banks, correct? "My cousin loves you," he says with a chuckle.

Drew was taken back by the chuckle from Adams mouth, “Yeah I play him in the show and I appreciate it, you can tell them that I said thank you” his response was calm.

The two begin conversing, getting to know one other. You continue to stand beside the two grown men, even joining in on the conversation. Drew's questions or comments drew your attention.

Adam nods, turning his body towards you, “Congrats on your movie by the way, you did amazing,” talking about your newest movie you starred in with Sydnee Sweeny.

“Thank you Adam, filming that movie was a hassle but a lot of fun all together” you kept your arms around Drew’s arm the whole time.

Eventually, you realized it was time to leave Adam and finish your night with Drew. The night has just begun, and there is food calling your name.

"It was nice to see you, but it appears that we should get going; I hope you have a good rest of your night, Adam," Drew said, indicating between Drew and you. 

"Of course, yes, enjoy the rest of your night" Adam claps his hands together before shaking Drew's hand and hugging you.

By the end of the night, Drew and you are sitting down at the table with a few of your friends while music plays from the band on stage.

Drew and you were facing each other, your hand fiddling with his gold chain while he questioned you about Adam.

"Baby, you understand how much I love you and value our relationship. I'm sorry if I was acting like a dosh," Drew rambles on, but you cut him off by kissing him to silence him.

"You weren't acting like a dosh; you were professional the entire time, and I understand why you were the way you were," you said, placing your palm on top of his and softly pressing your thumb on his hand.

"I actually love you a lot more," he says, smiling.

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[rogueddie]

I'll Be Here T | 1,187 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is being willing to wait for them

Eddie has always known that, one day, Steve would move to the city with Robin so he can finally go to college. Eddie has grown too aware of Steve, his tells and how much he needs Robin.

When he first brought up college, he was venting about how horrible it would be to go so long without seeing Robin.

Eddie had struggled to hold back his laughter, painfully aware that he wasn't actually venting. He was trying to find an excuse to follow her. He was trying to convince himself that it would be worth putting the effort in to go to college too.

So, when Steve shuffled in one day, concerned but excited? Eddie wasn't surprised.

"I got in," he'd started. "To college, I mean. I applied with Robin and... I got in."

"That's amazing," Eddie said. "Baby, I'm so proud of you."

And he was. He was so extremely proud and excited.

But, when the day finally came for Steve to leave, he found it hard to bring those emotions back. He hated how clearly Steve could see through his forced grins.

"I'm fine," Eddie had insisted when Steve asked. "Really. I'm going to miss you, but this is so good for you. I'm so excited to hear about what you're going to do."

"I'll call," Steve promised, arms tight around him in a hug. He only pulled back to litter Eddie's face with kisses.

And, as promised, Steve called as soon as they arrived in their new dorm. Eddie could hear Robin babbling in the background, excited about their tiny little space, whilst Steve tried to hold in his laughter long enough to spew his usual romantics.

He'd called the next day too, to let Eddie know how they'd settled in and talk about all the different activities he was planning on checking out. There was even a D&D group that made him think of Eddie, that he didn't join simply because he wants his first game to be with him.

It wasn't until the next week that he called again. Steve spent the entire call gushing about a teacher who'd sat down with him and talked him through all his options.

"I'm going to be a teacher!" Steve had finished his speech off. "For, like, middle schoolers!"

"That's amazing!" Eddie replied. "That's- Stevie, that's perfect for you! You're gonna be amazing!"

"Yeah? You really think so?"

"I know so."

Steve had warned him that he would be busy, that he wouldn't be able to call as much.

It still made something deep in Eddies chest ache when another week would go by with no news from Steve.

Eddie wasn't worried though. Not really.

Especially when he came back with Robin for Christmas.

He hadn't been able to stay more than three days but, the entire time he was back in Hawkins, he was glued to Eddie. He grabbed and held on, as if he was finally able to breathe. As if he would die if he didn't get to touch Eddie for one second longer.

Robin constantly joked that she was going to need a crowbar to pry him off of Eddie.

She was almost right. It had taken him so long to say goodbye that they left more than an hour later than they had originally planned.

Eddie waved to them as they drove off. He was surprised at how excited he felt- it would only be a year until he got to see Steve again.

They'd been reluctant to admit their plans to stay in their dorms over summer break, but Eddie had encouraged them.

It was a good idea after all.

"But he could be doing anything," Mike had frowned, confused at how calm and content Eddie was. "With anyone. And he's not talking to you! Doesn't that make you... I don't know, worry?"

"No?" Eddie frowned back. He didn't understand why the kids were so confused. "Steve wouldn't do something like that. I know that, so what do I have to worry about?"

"You're just gonna wait around forever then?"

"Nope. He's just at college, kid. He's gonna come back and, when he does, I'll be right here."

When Steve went into his second year, he had settled enough that he started calling once a month.

It quickly became Eddies favorite time of the month and, if anyone tried to get him to do anything else on the day, he would blow them off. He couldn't be late home- not when Steve was going to call.

"I miss you," Steve would always say, in lieu of a greeting.

"I miss you too, baby," Eddie always mumbled back. He would cradle the phone close, with both hands, as he did.

"I keep thinking about you," Steve promised.

He would say it every call, repeating it as though worried that Eddie might forget. That Eddie might doubt that.

Eddie would always divert the conversation before Steve could spiral too much.

He always gave the same farewell when it came time for Steve to hang up so he could study or take part in whatever activity Robin has dragged him into that week.

"I'll be here," Eddie always said. "Don't worry about me. I could wait forever for you, big boy."

The third and fourth year went the same as the first.

Each Christmas was glorious. But, for the third Christmas, they'd managed to organise enough so they could spend a whole week in Hawkins.

Eddie insisted on taking polaroids of them. His favorite is the one he'd snapped of Steve, who was unaware, soft and sleepy in Eddie's kitchen.

"This is the last year," Steve told him, at the start of his fifth year. "Just this year, then I'm coming home."

One more year. It was the phrase that had been getting Eddie through the waiting, but it didn't help anymore. It only made it worse.

He couldn't stop thinking about how, when Steve does come back, he's staying.

Wayne helped him move out the trailer, and into his own. It wasn't any bigger than Wayne's, but it was enough for Eddie. He knew it would be enough for Steve.

The hideout didn't pay well, but Eddie was careful with his government hush money. He had plenty, more than enough to last a lifetime if budgeted right.

He made sure everything was ready for Steve. He made sure their home was ready.

And, when Steve does come home, all Eddie feels is love.

"Welcome home," Eddie says, leading him into their trailer.

"Oh, it's perfect," Steve whispers.

Eddie can hear the genuine awe in his voice. He grabs Steve, turning him around so he can finally see the expression too.

"You're so beautiful," Eddie says. "God, I missed you so much."

Steve practically throws himself at Eddie, their teeth clashing harshly with how hard Steve kisses him.

"Fuck," Steve groans, holding Eddie's face in both his hands. "You really waited for me all this time- Eds, God, I love you so much."

"I love you, too. I love you, more than anything, baby. You're worth the wait, you're so worth it."

[willieverseetheland]

jingle bells.

spencer reid x fem!reader summary: spencer gets a little too tipsy at the office christmas party.

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, language, spencer being a dork

fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers

I know christmas has been over, I just felt inspired.

wc: 1.4k

You've always loved Christmas. It wasn't the holiday itself; it was how it brought people together. Everything just feels so cozy and bright. So when Penelope asked you to help her decorate for the party, you were more than happy to do so.

Although your job can be very depressing at times, the office environment is truly amazing. Everyone is so kind. You couldn't ask for better coworkers. However, there's one fellow profiler you've grown rather close with these past few months.

Spencer Reid was one of the first people you became friends with at the BAU, other than Penelope of course. He's such a good friend, and always seems to be genuinely interested in what you have to say. He notices the little things, like when you were always complaining about your feet being cold, so he bought you fuzzy socks. Or when he overheard you talking to Emily about how badly you wanted this decorative plate set for your new apartment, and he got it for you for your birthday. He's truly the best friend a girl could ever ask for. But recently you've been wondering if it's only platonic love that you feel. Could it be more than friendship? You find yourself putting extra effort into your appearance, but you just chalk it up to wanting to better yourself. You have also noticed how when you shop, you choose clothes you think he might like.

Sometimes you catch yourself wondering if he feels the same way. Does he lie in bed at night thinking of your voice and laughter the way you think of him? Does he get flustered when your knees brush together during debriefs? Does he get that fluttery feeling in his stomach when you lock eyes from across the room?

Now that you're thinking about it, you really fucking like him. You feel like a teenager with a schoolgirl crush. God, how could you let this happen? You know that co-worker relationships rarely work out. But you're an adult, you can be mature about it, right?

You snap out of your daydream and realize its already 6:00. The party starts in an hour, and you only have a quarter of what you need to do done.

"Hey Penelope, think we could get some Christmas music going? I work faster with music playing!"

"It's like you read my mind y/n!"

The sound of bells fills the room and suddenly you find yourself feeling very festive. You hear Penelope humming along.

You work quickly to get the last of the lights and tinsel strung up. You wish it could look like this year-round. You check your watch. 6:53. Everyone should be arriving soon.

You hear the elevator ding and see Derek walk out with a plate full of what is most definitely store-bought cookies.

"Wow, you ladies really outdid yourselves."

"Hello Derek and thank you" you smile.

People begin to arrive one-by-one. Emily, JJ, Hotch, and Rossi. Everyone says their hellos and get settled. Some make their way to the booze faster than others.

It's 7:25 and Spencer isn't here yet. You feel a pit begin to form in your stomach. You were really hoping to see him tonight. You decide to grab yourself a drink and socialize, take your mind off of him. He'll show up eventually, right?

"Y/N! Hey! Where's your other half?" Emily chuckles and raises her eyebrows. You can tell she snuck a few shots in the elevator.

"I assume you mean Spencer. Not sure actually." So much taking your mind off of him. And what did she mean by other half? It's not that obvious right?

You scan the room, hoping to see Spencer, but you don't. However, you do catch Rossi getting rather comfortable with new forensic photographer.

You finish your drink and wander off to get another. Looking at your watch you see that it's 7:47. You're starting to feel a little hopeless. But right as you turn to rejoin the party, you see him. Those big brown eyes and fluffy hair.

"Hey Y/N, sorry I'm late. I had to go pick up some last-minute gifts."

Weight falls off of your shoulders at the sound of his voice. You feel overwhelming relief now that he's here. You had spent the last hour, or at least what felt like an hour, with your jaw clenched and a heavy feeling in your stomach. You hate feeling this way. You know you need to talk to him, but you don't want to screw up a good thing.

"It's alright Spence, I'm just glad you're here now." You give him a warm smile and place your hand on his shoulder.

He gives you his classic dorky smile in return, and you feel those all too familiar butterflies swell in your stomach.

As the night goes on, the wine flows and sounds of laughter fills the room. You stay by Spencer's side practically the whole night. Now you understand what Emily meant. You notice he's had quite a bit to drink. Definitely not more than Rossi, but more than usual. You feel like he's being more playful and affectionate as well. But you assume it's just the alcohol. You desperately hope he's flirting, but you don't want to look too far into it.

Your thoughts quickly dissolve into the air as the room goes silent and Rossi's rather loud voice announces it's time to exchange gifts. You give out your gifts and accept the ones given to you. You receive a cinnamon roll scented candle from Emily, a pair of heart shaped earrings from Penelope, a fuzzy blanket from JJ, and various trinkets and gadgets from others. Spencer hands you a slender box wrapped in shiny blue snowflaked wrapping paper.

"I wonder what this could be." You raise your eyebrow playfully and give a small laugh.

You carefully tear off the wrapping paper and open the box. Inside is a necklace with small heart shaped locket.

"Go ahead, open the locket." he has a drunken grin, and his eyes are eager.

You open the locket and inside is a picture of you and Spencer from your birthday. You feel a warmth spread over your face and you can't help but smile.

"Oh my god Spencer, this is- thank you so much, really." You pull him into a tight embrace. Relishing in the feeling of his arms around you for just a moment. You pull away, smile faltering slightly.

"Would you walk with me? Outside? It's really warm in here." His eyes are glassy and his cheeks are a rosy pink. His drinks have definitely caught up with him now. No wonder he feels warm.

"Of course, are you feeling okay?" you ask with sincerity.

"Yeah, there's just a lot of noise. Just need some fresh air s'all."

You two slip out into the crisp, December night. The sky's clear so you can see the stars. Your breath creates mini clouds in the night air.

You look over at Spencer and wonder what's going on inside that brilliant brain of his. You've always been so fascinated by the way he thinks.

"You look so beautiful right now. I-I mean you always do, but in this moment you..." his voice trails off like he has more to say, but doesn't know if he should say it.

"You don't look too bad yourself." You let out a quiet laugh.

You can hear carolers singing jingle bells in the distance.

You glance up at him and see that he's looking at you. His eyes reflect the full moon. There's a sadness in his eyes but also an admiring, soft expression.

"y/n."

"Yeah, Spencer?" You place your hand on his forearm. His mouth opens and closes slightly like he doesn't know if he should say what he's about to say.

"I love you. I'm in love with you, y/n." his voice is soft and trembling ever so slightly. His eyes jump across your face, searching for a reaction.

You feel like your brain might short circuit. You're overwhelmed with emotion. You feel a sting as your eyes prick up with tears.

"Spencer, I don't know what to say." You see his smile fade and fear that may have been poor choice of words.

You decide maybe words won't do how you feel justice.

You step closer to him, placing your right hand on his cheek and the left just below his jaw. You breathe in deeply and pull his face to yours. You place a soft kiss on his lips. He then grabs the sides of your face deepening the kiss. You feel heat creeping up your neck, and the whole world feels as though it's melting away.

You pull away, catching your breath. He looks starstruck, like he can't believe what just happened. And honestly, you can't either. You almost want to ask him to pinch you.

"I love you too, Dr. Spencer Reid."