#this one was timely given the lease i just signed

[anniebeemine]

Count Your Luck- s.r.

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

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

word count: 12.2k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. This was his burden to bear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he didn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N’s name lit up the screen.

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

"Are you busy?" she asked.

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

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

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

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

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

"I’ll be there soon."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer gave her a reassuring nod. “Anytime.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was a long pause on the other end.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, he bought her dinner.

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

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

Until he didn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piedoesnotequalpi]

for the card game: javid? <3

(trope card ask game!)

Howdy! I drew the jack of diamonds (coffee shop AU) and six of hearts (roommates). I know these seem contradictory in nature, but I made it work! This no longer counts as a drabble, since it is >100 words, but I hope you enjoy it.

--

“Black tea for David!”

David grabbed the to-go cup and rushed outside. He’d wanted to be early to his apartment tour, but the bus had gotten stuck in traffic, and then he’d walked the wrong way, and then…

David tried to breathe as he walked to the apartment. While he waited for someone to answer the door, he looked at his cup and realized the barista had written his number on it. He snorted; the barista had been cute, but David didn’t think he was the kind of person who could get a stranger’s number like that.

“My roommate should be back in a couple minutes,” Tony said when he’d finished showing David around. “If you want to wait.”

David nodded and sat awkwardly on the couch. Sure enough, the door opened and someone came crashing in.

“So you’re the new roommate,” the newcomer said. “You’re–oh, fuck.”

Of all the people David had been expecting as potential roommates, the barista who’d just given him his number had been pretty low on the list.

“Hi,” David said slowly.

[camellia-thea]

hmm.

[pink-princess-pussy-pop]

Roomies - Edmund Pevensie x Reader Modern AU!

Word count: 4.2k

I just had a glorious idea about a modern Narnia AU. I'm not British so lmao. Football in this means Soccer. slay

Fem identifying reader. Mention of having long hair.

Summary: Edmund is an asshole AND your roommate. But he also happens to be a really attractive asshole roommate. And apparently, a really possessive one too.

Warnings: Language, smut, mutual pining, SO SWEET at the end!!

I'm down bad for him

"What time will you be back today?" You and Edmund were in the kitchen, eating breakfast before your day of classes began.

You glanced at him, shirtless in all his glory, eating a piece of toast. He was leaning on the counter, watching you butter your own.

"My writing class was canceled so I will be back around 1." Edmund audibly sighs, a sign that he will definitely have company over at that time. "Don't ask me to stay on campus. Just because you can't keep it in your pants doesn't mean I should be exiled from my own home."

Edmund pushes himself off of the counter, chuckling to himself.

"I wasn't gonna ask you anything. I just didn't think you'd be one to listen though." Before you could respond, he was gone.

Several hours later, you pulled into your parking spot in front of your and Edmund's apartment. You had since forgotten about your earlier conversation until you opened your front door to hear the oh-so-delightful noises of Edmund's newest friend moaning at the top of her lungs.

You have to stop yourself from gagging.

"Jesus." The time was 1:30. You had given him thirty extra minutes. "I fucking hate him." This was untrue, as you really did not hate the handsome man who you lived with. Underneath your facade of disdain and disgust, lay your actual feelings toward your roommate. Ever since he took his sister Lucy's spot in the lease for her year abroad, you developed a minor, (major!!!), crush on him. And your feelings of disgust? Totally not jealousy!

You had spent the better half of the last five months trying not to listen to him and his lady friends in his room and pining over him from yours.

How could you not be attracted to Edmund Pevensie? A pre-law major with dark hair and dark eyes, and a dashing smile. Not to mention the spatter of freckles that covered his body, toned from years of playing football. Jesus, you were down so bad for your flatmate.

You set your stuff down on the couch in your shared living space and turned to the sink where his dishes lay, unclean. Still able to hear the actions of the lovely people downstairs, you turn your music up all the way to drown out the noise before unloading the dishwasher and loading it again with his dishes.

Minutes later, the front door opens and closes, signifying that Edmund's friend has left. You turn your music down and focused on the plate you are scrubbing, dried mac and cheese would not come out in the dishwasher, as Edmund walked up the stairs.

"Ah. So you are home." His accent makes you smile the slightest bit. You can see him in your peripheral, shirtless with grey sweats low on his hips. You move your eyes away quickly. "Did you enjoy what you heard, darling?" Rolling your eyes, you look at him, not giving into the flutter of your heart when he called you darling.

"You're a pig, Pevensie." You weren't anticipating his next move and were startled when his lips were suddenly on your cheek.

"You love me."

"Ew!" Glaring at him, you wipe the wetness from his lips off of your face and then wipe your hand on a paper towel only to find him grinning at you. You do a once-over of his uncovered torso, which you could now see was adorned with scratches and bruises. "Go put a shirt on." Edmund glances down, smile widening, before looking back at you.

"And cover up the view? Nah." You move to put the plate you had been washing away in the cabinet and then suddenly, Edmund is behind you, his body only inches from yours.

You try to ignore the heat radiating off of his bare skin and how his fingers brush yours when he reaches above you to grab a bowl. He steps away quickly and if he noticed a change in your demeanor, he didn't bring it up. You left the kitchen area, grabbed your backpack, and went to your room.

How in the world did he have this effect on you? As soon as your door was closed and you were safe in the comfort of your bedroom, you let out a sigh of relief. A buzz pulled your attention from your feelings toward Edmund to your phone.

r u going to the party tn???

It was your friend Alyssa, whom you had met freshman year in your Intro to Psychology class.

You know I don't like parties.

You flop on your bed, awaiting her pleading response. In truth, you didn't hate parties, you just didn't see the point in going out and getting drunk with strangers when you could get drunk in the pleasure of your own home.

im coming over at 8 and we are getting ready together

You knew there wouldn't be a point in fighting her on the topic since sooner or later she would have convinced you to go.

Hours later, after Edmund had left for his evening classes, and also the party you presumed, Alyssa knocked on your front door and seconds later walked into your room.

"Is he here?" You sit up on your bed, your book falling onto your comforter beside you.

"No." Alyssa had gone straight into your closet, pulling out an outfit for you to wear.

"Good. That way he won't know you are going tonight." Your eyebrow quirks up.

"What does that mean?"

She turned to you, a smirk gracing her tanned face.

"We both know that if your roomie knew you were going tonight, he would have texted all his little friends to keep away from you."

This was true and it was annoying, but one night while drunk, you had let it slip to him that you were a virgin. Since then, Edmund had made sure that no guys would talk to you at parties.

You made no effort to argue and reached over to pick up what she had chosen for you to wear. It was simple, a pair of faux leather pants and a black lace corset. (the urban one iykyk)

"Alyssa, I haven't worn this top out-"

"All the more reason to wear it tonight! C'mon! It will be fun! Besides, maybe Ed will finally take notice of your feelings and how hot you are."

"Alyssa!" She smiles.

"Ok fine. But maybe you'll meet another guy. Since our good friend hasn't had time to scare anyone away."

The idea intrigues you, maybe you'd have a good time tonight.

You notice what she is wearing, a pair of straight-leg jeans and a black tank top. She looks amazing, as always. You get up to sit at your desk to begin applying your makeup.

"So what do you suppose he will do when he sees you looking all sexy?"

"Nothing?" Your reply earns you an eyebrow raise.

"Nothing? You don't think he's gonna react at all?"

You shrug, leaning forward to perfect your winged eyeliner.

"There is nothing he can do now. If he wants to try and ruin my night, he can go ahead. If I'm going to this party, I intend on having a good time." Alyssa giggles.

"Maybe even get laid?" You whip around in your chair to glare at her.

"Seriously?" Her laughter grows.

"Hey, if not by Edmund, you're bound to find someone at this party!"

Your heart beats faster at the thought.

...

You and Alyssa arrive at the party at around eleven. It has been going on for about an hour so it had grown quite large. The other girls around you are dressed similarly to you, bringing some comfort into the oddness you felt about your appearance. Alyssa had requested you wear your hair down and straight and you obliged.

To be honest, you did look amazing. The corset had been a perfect fit, makes your chest look fantastic, and the pants fit you like a glove, hugging your ass so well that when you saw yourself in the mirror, you were surprised. The look was completed with your dark green platform converse, which somehow made you feel comfortable.

While walking through the crowd of people, you keep your eye out for a certain raven-haired boy, but couldn't seem to find him.

"Hey, don't think about him. Just have a good time." Alyssa nudges your arm and you nod, disregarding the looming thought of Edmund's reaction to your appearance at the party.

"You're right. I'm gonna go get a drink." You leave her in a room filled with sweaty university students to find the kitchen, where you presumed the alcohol to be.

To be honest? You felt great. You looked great and with no Edmund around, you had nothing to worry about. If you wanted to flirt with a cute guy, you would.

You round the corner and spot the kitchen, and a pack of Trulys, and made a beeline for the drinks. As you fish a black cherry seltzer out of the box you hear someone call your name.

"Y/N!" You turn abruptly and came face to face with a familiar face.

Sam, a friend of Edmund's from football, smiling at you.

"How are you?" Sam is very attractive, with blond hair and sparkly blue eyes, he's the complete opposite of Edmund.

"I'm alright." You smile at him.

"I didn't expect you to be here."

"Yeah, it was kind of a last-minute decision." You take a swig of your drink as he smiles down at you.

"Well, I'm glad. I was hoping I would be able to speak to you at some point. Ed's always telling the team to stay away from you." You roll your eyes.

"Sorry about that, I don't know why he does that. Is he here tonight?" Sam nods.

"Yeah, he's somewhere around here." Sam glances around, as if nervous that he'd get in trouble for talking to you. "Do you wanna dance?"

"Sure!" Sam takes your hand and leads you back into the room where you left Alyssa, back to the loud music and dancing. It is then that you see Edmund for the first time.

He's walking down the stairs holding hands with a pretty blonde girl who is dressed in a dark green slip dress. You wrap your arms around Sam and pull him into your body. His hands settle on your hips, fingers hooking onto your belt loops and pulling you closer.

You make eye contact with Edmund and his eyes widen and then narrow at the sight of you with Sam. You can see him mouth something to the girl he is with but instead of paying attention to him, you focus on Sam.

The two of you dance to the music and you forget about Edmund. You realize you have run out of your drink and tap Sam's shoulder.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just need another drink! Give me like fifteen minutes. I need to check on my friend, too." You smile at him before returning to the kitchen, where you happen to find Alyssa.

"Hi!" Lord, she is drunk. "I've missed you! Where have you been?" You giggle at her antics, pouring yourself a shot of vodka, the burning causing you to make a face as you take it.

"I've been dancing! With a guy named Sam from the football team!"

Her eyes widen in shock and she grins at you.

"OMG. Fucking finally!" She takes the initiative to pour you, and her, another shot.

...

Ten minutes later, and maybe 4 more shots later, you and Alyssa are drunk off of your asses.

"So you're telling me that if Sam wanted to take you home tonight, you'd say no?" Her arm is clasped around your forearm.

"Yes." You can't contain your giggling.

"But why? He's so hot and obviously into you!"

Your face flushes as you think of the real reason you don't want to spend the night with Sam.

"You know why." You take a sip of your newly opened Truly and glare at her.

A deadpan look blooms on her face.

"I forgot." Your eyes roll.

"Because I like someone else!" Alyssa gets really excited at this news.

"WHO?" You shush her, her voice well above the other chatter in the small kitchen you are in.

"You know who!" Her face contorts into confusion.

"No, I don't."

"It's..." You look around, suddenly very aware through your drunken haze, just to make sure there aren't any lurkers to hear your conversation. "It's Edmund!" You whisper.

"Oh! I did know that!" She giggles and takes a sip of her drink. "Yeah, I remember how you said you were jealous of all of the girls he fucked and how you wished he would-"

"Jesus Christ, Alyssa! Shut up!" She continues.

"just fuck you already!" Your face is red and you are mortified. Anyone passing by could have heard what you had been talking about. "Don't worry babe. Everyone here is way too drunk to even remember this conversation. I'm too drunk to remember this conversation!" A small smile graces your lips. "So, how do you want him to do it?" You hit her arm.

"Alyssa!"

"What? I wanna hear about your Edmund fantasies!" Your blush deepens. "C'mon!"

"Fuck- fine. I've always imagined him..." You cannot believe you are speaking your deepest secret aloud, at a party nonetheless. "I don't know. Cornering me in the kitchen." Alyssa squeals.

"Counter sex!" The girl is fucking giddy at the thought of you getting some action in your kitchen. You roll your eyes but nod.

"I guess..." Suddenly, you remember the nice boy you had been dancing with. "Shit! I have to go find Sam! He probably thinks I ditched him. Will you be ok?" She smiles and nods at you.

You trek back into the masses to find the blonde guy and he's right where you left him. You catch his eyes and smile.

"Hey! I'm so sorry. I found my friend and we ended up talking for a bit. I didn't mean to leave you here." He doesn't respond right away and looks away from your eyes, glancing around. "Is everything ok? You look uncomfortable."

"Listen, you are really nice but I don't think this is gonna work out." Confusion wipes across your face.

"What the hell? We were just dancing!" You don't understand what you could have done to make him act this way.

"It's not you, really. It's just-" You cut him off, suddenly very aware of what was happening.

"He told you to leave me alone, didn't he?" Sam looks apologetic as he nods.

"I'm sorry, I really like you." You run a hand through your hair.

"I'm so fucking done with this." You leave Sam and look around for the dark mess of hair you know so well. You're pissed. Even though you weren't going to do anything with Sam, you were still glad to have the option. You decided then and there that you were done with Edmund deciding things for you.

You found him in the kitchen, drinking a beer and laughing with some of his football mates.

"Edmund!" His head turns to you and he grins. "Stop fucking with me!" You somehow have the courage to get all up in his face. His stupid, Goddamn handsome face. "Stop telling any guy I see to stop talking to me. It's my fucking life. Stay out of it."

Edmund licks his lips and his gaze rakes down your body, making you very aware of the fact you are in lingerie in front of your roommate.

"Whatever you say, darling." His friends laugh and you leave before Edmund can see your face heat up. You find Alyssa dancing in the other room and pull her aside.

"I'm ready to leave whenever you are. I can't be around him right now." She nods frantically.

"Omg. Ok. Yeah, let's go!"

The two of you leave the party and begin the, thankfully short, walk to Alyssa's place.

"Do you wanna stay the night?" You thought about what would happen if you went home, would Edmund be home tonight? Would he not? You remember the blonde from earlier.

"No, I'll get an Uber home. I don't think he's going to be home anytime soon and I'd like to sleep in my own bed." Alyssa nods and the two of you talk until your Uber arrives.

"Text me when you get home." You nod and hug her.

"I'm sorry for making you leave early."

"No! If one of us wants to leave, we leave. That's the rule." She ushers you out of her door. "Sleep well!" A grin appears on her face. "With visions of Edmund dancing in your head!"

"Fuck off!" You glare before getting into the car.

As you expect, Edmund is not at the apartment when you get back and you are able to go to your room without him and blondie interfering. A small bubbling of jealousy and anger blooms in your gut when you think about what he is probably doing right now. With her. Shaking it off, you brush your teeth and slip into bed before falling asleep.

...

You wake up the next morning with a splitting headache. Groaning as you roll out of bed, you close your blinds to make your room dimmer. As you go upstairs you listen for any movement in Edmund's room, praying he isn't home yet. You breathe a sigh of relief when you're greeted with silence on the other side.

As you walk up the stairs, you halt in your tracks as you see him sitting on the couch. Clad in grey sweats and nothing else, he makes your heart flutter, even though you are pissed at him. You don't engage with him at all, avoiding his gaze as you walk to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water.

While opening the bottle of Advil you hear Edmund move from the couch. You take the meds and open the dishwasher to put your glass inside. When you stand, Edmund is behind you, his hands set on the counter, effectively caging you in. Your breath catches in your throat.

"So, is this how you imagined it?" His voice is right next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Me fucking you in the kitchen?" Your eyes widen in shock. His lips graze your neck as he murmurs... "Answer me." Your words are stuck in your throat, thoughts going wild in your head.

Had he heard you and Alyssa last night?

You are brought out of your thoughts when Edmund dips his head further down and kisses where your neck meets your shoulder. "C'mon hun, let me make make you feel good." His lips travel up to your throat and you melt back into his body. He whispers in your ear, "Please?"

His hands leave the counter to rest on your waist, his fingers just slightly touching your bare skin where your shirt had been riding up moments before.

"Don't make me beg, love." He turns you around, bringing his body closer to you. You don't reply, too flustered with his actions to say anything. He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Ok, fine. I'll beg." He grins.

Edmund's hands reach down to pick you up, setting you on the counter. He steps in between your legs, setting his hands on your thighs while his thumbs draw circles on your bare skin.

"Do you know how many times I've thought about surprising you in the shower? Just so I could see you naked?" His gaze is still trained on your eyes. "Do you know how many times I've heard you touching yourself in your room? Wishing it was me who was making you feel that way?" He looks down at your lips and then back up to your eyes. "Do you know how many times I've thought about this moment? Last night? After I saw you dancing with Sam in that outfit... You looked stunning, my love." He moves to be right above your face, his lips so close they could touch yours. "So many Goddamn times, baby. So please," He pouts the slightest bit. "Let me make you feel good."

Kiss me.

As if he could read your mind, he does. Your hands fly to his hair and pull him into you even more, his lower half fully against you.

And oh.

Oh.

You pull away, looking down at his hips with wide eyes. Edmund laughs.

"Darling this is what you do to me. Every." He kisses your shoulder. "Bloody." Your neck. "Day." Your jaw. He pulls away so you are able to see him. His perfect hair, and his perfect smile, and his perfect freckles.

And the fucking devil in his eyes.

"So are you going to let me act on your fantasies? Or are we just going to go back to you thinking about me when you touch yourself at night and me pretending not to get off on it?" You lean forward to kiss him again and he leans back, running his tongue over his lips. "Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?" A deep blush blooms on your cheeks.

"Yes." It's barely above a whisper but it's audible. When he hears your response, he smiles again.

"Fucking finally."

His lips return to yours and his grip on your hips tightens as he pulls you against him again. You tighten your thighs around him, reveling in the taste of his lips.

"Oh my God." He murmurs against your lips. Your hands travel down his neck and to his bare shoulders and your nails dig into his skin just a bit, making him hiss in sweet pain.

"Fuck." His hands start to pull at your shorts. "Off. Now." You lift yourself up so he can pull them down, along with your underwear. He groans as he looks down. "Bloody hell." One of his hands wipes over his face, taking you in. His bottom lip pulls in between his teeth as he looks into your eyes again. "Darling, I'd absolutely love to taste you but I'm afraid I'll explode if I don't fuck you soon." His fingers find his waistband and he pauses at your wide eyes. "Do you want to do it?"

Holy Hell you can feel the effects of his words on the surface below you. He gently grabs your hands, setting them on his hips. "Go ahead." You do as your told and push the fabric down his thighs. You look away, not quite ready to take witness to your roommates dick.

"I need you to say it one more time. Do you want this?" You look into his eyes.

"Yes." He smiles, his lips on yours and brings himself to your core.

"Take a deep breath, my love." When you do, Edmund pushes into you. The pain takes you by surprise and you let out a grunt of pain. He catches your lips with his and draws patterns on your skin with his free hand. Your nails dig into his back once again and he groans into your mouth when he bottoms out. "If you keep doing that I'm not going to last long." He begins moving very slowly. The pain slowly becomes pleasure. "I wanna make this good for you."

You drop your head to his shoulder.

"Oh my god, Ed it's-." His mouth is close to your ear making you hear all of the sounds he's making. "Fuck!"

"Holy shit."

"Ed-" You gasp, hands on his shoulders, as he stops moving.

"Please don't make me stop. I've been wanting this for so long." He lays his forehead on your shoulder and you can tell it's taking every ounce of his self-control not to move.

"No- I was just gonna ask if..." You pause to catch your breath. "if you could go faster.

"Jesus. You're perfect." His breath on your skin makes you flush again and then, the wonderful sensation you had felt moments before begins again.

"You're doing so well, love. So well."

Edmund begins to pick up his pace and you whine into his neck.

"Oh-" Edmund's fingers are suddenly on your clit, forcing your thighs to tighten around his. Your hips rock into his as you feel yourself begin to near your high. With his fingers on your clit, his bruising grip on your thighs, and his fucking dick inside of you, it takes only a few more seconds before you are releasing around him. Edmund moans after feeling you squeeze around him and it's the sexiest thing you've ever heard.

"You're so fucking perfect."

He releases soon after and he catches his breath.

He pulls away, looking at your face.

"Are you ok?" You smile.

Despite his asshole actions of the past 24 hours, Edmund does truly care about you. He's always taken care of you. He always made sure you had dinner, would always cover you with a blanket if you had fallen asleep upstairs, always made you tea and soup when you were sick.

"I'm perfectly fine." You grin at him.

You remember all of his comments to you, all of the pet-names he's called you.

"Ed, how long? How long have you wanted this?" He grins back at you.

"My love it was you the moment Lucy brought you home to visit during Christmas."

"Edmund that was three years ago!" His smile grows.

He dips down to kiss you.

"I'm a patient man."

Wait i heart them

I hope that was enjoyable l o l.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

About Harry's comment that he was "literally" cut off financially -

This is just my speculation, but like you, I also assume that Harry still gets some sort of annual allowance from Charles and that he absolutely lied in the Oprah interview.

What I think he meant is that-

1. Part of their salary, their allowance from the Duchy of Lancaster (at the time, under the Queen) was stopped. Obviously, because they stopped working for The Crown.

2. Their salary from the Duchy of Cornwall (at the under Charles) stopped. Read somewhere that this was in the range of 3 to 4 mil.

3. Their official expenses for their staff, likely being covered separately by the Duchy/BP stopped.

4. Their upkeep expenses like travel, housing etc, being covered by the Duchy/BP stopped.

5. Their official security, being covered by the govt, stopped.

6. Whatever perks their diplomatic status afforded them, stopped. I'm assuming this is what Canada/Trudeau said he won't be covering post March 2020. And so they fled to USA.

7. Private expenses - household, lifestyle etc, being covered privately by Charles via the Duchy stopped. I'm assuming this included clothing allowances, holidays that weren't comped by friends, rentals or lease for homes anywhere other than crown property, like their Cotswold home.

Like you said, I do think Charles privately funds Harry. Either via a trustfund that may have been set up ages ago, and so Harry takes that for granted and it doesn't count in Harry's mind. Or, Charles gives them an annual lump sum.

Of course, he may very well be spending his inheritance from Diana or the Queen mother as well. But both harry and meghan live their life like they don't much care about where their money comes from. They also doy seem to much effort into their Netflix, Spotify deals. We know they don't have any brand deals. So the money must come from somewhere.

And Harry keeps going over the UK every year around the same time each year. It can't be as simple as just a layover enroute to Invictus. My personal conspiracy theory (I have no rational explanation for it) is that he goes to UK, and stays at Windsor, to sign whatever documentation in person, so he can recieve this money from Charles.

Maybe part of the deal is that he comes and sign for it in person. And staying at Windsor makes it easier to meet with the lawyers or staff that handles this for him. He usually comes around April or May. His megxit trial separation review was March 2021. In my mind atleast, his annual trips in April or May along with that review date.

Another thing is that it was around this same time last year, in 2023, that negotiations for Harry's coronation appearance were happening. The result of which was that Meghan was absent (disinvited?) and Harry, quietly, weekly, came and went and did not create much of fuss for the way he was completely excluded from the coronation pomp. I think he may have got some money back then as well, and likely, got a bonus due his dad's promotion.

Old ask from June 2nd

I suspect Harry was given some money around the coronation too, and I feel like there might’ve been a condition that required Meghan to be radio silent for the whole weekend.

We talked about it at the time, but it was *very* strange, and very noticeable, that she completely disappeared for Coronation Weekend, considering that her usual MO is to smother us in PR any time the BRF steps out as a family - like trooping, Remembrance Day, post-summer holidays, the Platinum Jubilee, The Queen’s funeral. (Yes, she papwalked the first second she could, during the coronation concert, but by then most of the official festivities were over and no one really cared.)

I suspect maybe Meghan had gotten some kind of money for the coronation too. Probably a “half now, half after if you cooperate” kind of deal as I think that’s the only way Meghan would agree to anything. Or maybe Charles’s letters she leaked about just before the coronation (the ones where she claimed Charles names the racist royals) actually worked and they paid her for her silence. 🤷‍♀️

But anon picked up something I hadn’t — Harry really does have a pattern of going to the UK in the spring and what if it actually is tied to him getting the allowance from Charles?

Let’s review:

March 2020 - Sussex “farewell” tour

April 2021 - Philip’s funeral

April 2022 - secret Windsor visit on the way to The Hague Invictus Games that Meghan leaked because no one actually saw them. They reportedly wanted a meeting with The Queen, but she required them to meet with Charles and Camilla first. Supposedly they were late and never got to meet The Queen. I think this is the visit where Harry claimed he was making sure The Queen was protected and had good people around her.

June 2022 - Platinum Jubilee visit

September 2022 - Sussex “revenge” tour, overshadowed by The Queen’s illness and passing, royal mourning, and the funeral.

May 2023 - Harry returns for the coronation

June 2023 - Harry returns for lawsuit hearing/trial. Conveniently he’s in the country the same time that Charles is traveling and named Harry as a Counsellor of State.

February 2024 - Harry returns to see Charles after cancer diagnosis. He tries to see Kate but William blocks him.

May 2024 - Harry returns for 10th anniversary Invictus Games service. He doesn’t see Charles because Charles didn’t read Harry’s mind that he wanted to be personally invited by him despite an offer being made through staff. He tries to see Kate again but William blocks him.

I’m going to have to remember this theory next spring to check if the pattern continues.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 19 | SR

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - a slight jump forward in time here. For the sake of this, Spencer’s mom lives back in Vegas.

Chapter Summary - after finding a new place to settle down, things finally seem like they might be looking up for you and Spencer. Meanwhile Luke refuses to rest while he continues searching for you.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - cleaning up a crime scene, burying bodies, fingering, handjob, swearing, vomit, brief mention of depression, penetrative, unprotected sex, lying.

WC - 5.7k

Chapter 19 - Stitch Me Up

Two Months Later

The desert city of Twentynine Palms, California was located in the Mojave Desert and sat on the northern side of the Joshua Tree National Park and promoted the motto “a beautiful desert oasis”. 

It wasn’t small but it was huge either, with a population of around twenty five thousand, making it a great place for two people to hide in plain sight. And given its desert location, the temperature this time of year was over one hundred and five, a stark contrast from tiny little Colorado mountain towns. 

Samuel and Violet Truman of Arizona had moved out west and rented themselves a little fully furnished three bed, single storey home on Chia Avenue in a quiet suburb of Twentynine Palms. They arrived two weeks ago after spending some six weeks travelling the states with their travel companions Jack and Lily Waters. 

From the outside their home left a lot to be desired, with its rickety metal fence and lone palm tree in the sandy front yard. But the inside was so modern and sheek that the couple had signed a lease on the spot. 

From the outside looking in, you and Spencer were the idyllic all American couple. And admittedly, from the inside you were also pretty damn happy. 

Since fleeing Crested Butte in the middle of the night two months ago, things had changed dramatically. That night you’d waited until Luke had stopped patrolling your cabin before getting Mary’s body into the trunk of the Nissan. You’d scrubbed every single inch of the house until it was cleaner than when you’d arrived, tweezed the bullet out of the wall and filled in the hole left behind, before gathering all of your belongings and getting the hell out of dodge. 

On the way out of town you had begged Spencer to make one last stop. He wanted to refuse, you could tell, but he was trying so hard to make you happy, to make up for the way he’d been treating you that he agreed and pulled the Nissan to a stop on the street outside of McGills. 

It had been late and all the lights were off so you’d ducked down the side alley towards the door that led up to his apartment. You’d had no idea if he’d be there but you’d prayed with every fibre of your being that he would. And by some stroke of luck, he answered the door after you’d knocked twice. 

“Rose,” he folded his arms across his chest and leant against the door jamb. “Or should I say, Y/N.” 

“I heard Luke spoke to you.” You gnawed on your lip as Jesse regarded you like the stranger you were. 

“He did. I have to say, I did not expect you to be FBI.” 

“Yeah.” You nodded. “It’s a long story. I just wanted to come by and apologise for everything. I probably really shouldn’t have let myself follow you out of the Nickel that night.” 

“I’m glad you did.” He nodded, dropping his arms to his sides. “Even though it didn’t work out between us, it at the very least got me out of my slump. Maybe now I can actually put myself out there again, you know? Now I’ve gotten over that first hurdle.” 

“You’re going to make some woman very happy someday.” You smiled, subconsciously taking a step closer. 

“It’s a shame it couldn’t have been you.” He shrugged wistfully. 

You swallowed thickly, glancing down the alley and noting that you couldn’t see the Nissan from this position, or more importantly, its occupant couldn’t see you. You stepped even closer to Jesse and cupped his cheek. 

“In another life maybe.” You whispered. “I’m leaving town.” 

“I figured as much.” He nodded as your hand wandered down from his face to bicep. “You could stay, you know? With me. You don’t have to go just because he wants you to.” 

“You have no idea how tempting that is. But I can’t.” 

“I know.” He sighed, suddenly gripping the back of your neck. “I’m going to miss you.” 

Suddenly he’d slammed his lips against yours in a kiss so passionate your legs had buckled. If Spencer knew how you’d said goodbye to Jesse, he most likely would have gone back and killed him. If he’d known you’d let Jesse finger you in his doorway while you jerked him off in return, Spencer would have certainly murdered him and probably enjoyed it. 

But clearly you had a better poker face than you realised as Spencer simply drove off as soon as you were back in the car. And on the drive the only thing you’d thought of were Jess’s last words to you. 

“I wish I’d gotten a chance to love you, Y/N.” 

But at some point you had to let that go. 

Mary’s final resting place had been a hole in the ground in the Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest in Montana, almost eight hundred miles north of her hometown of Crested Butte. The Nissan met the same fate as Spencer’s Volvo a further five hundred and fifty miles east just outside of Medora, North Dakota. 

Spencer purchased three pairs of bus tickets: one down to Texas, one out to Minnesota and one to Iowa, the latter being the ones you actually used. It took the better part of an entire day on a sweaty, smelly bus before you arrived in Cedar Rapids.

You checked into a cheap and dirty motel under the names of Jack and Lily Waters and spent almost the entire night having sex. Thoroughly exhausted in the morning, Spencer found a used car lot and using his Arizona licence in the name Samuel Truman, paid cash for a black Chevy Impala. 

For the six weeks that followed you travelled up and down the country in much of a zigzag, alternating between your two pseudonyms, back and forth so the BAU would never find you. You spent six weeks in multiple different cheap motels, fucking like rabbits every step of the way. 

You’d never felt so intrinsically linked to someone the way you did to Spencer in those six weeks. And it seemed he’d finally found his bliss as he didn’t kill once. 

Eventually when enough time passed you’d choose to settle down in California. But unfortunately the mundane realities of life would ultimately be your downfall. 

You stood up from the bathroom floor with a groan, wiping the back of your hand over your mouth and padding over to the sink. You stuck your mouth directly under the faucet and drank from it to wash away the taste of bile on your tongue. 

You’d been throwing up on and off for some weeks now but you simply put it down to the residual stress of being on the run. You exhaled heavily before shuffling back out into the bedroom where Spencer still lay naked on top of the sheets. 

“I’m mildly offended.” He offered you a wistful smile. 

“I’m sorry.” You grumbled, flopping back to the bed next to him. 

“It’s ok. Just never had anyone need to throw up whilst sucking my dick before.” He chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 

“It’ll teach me not to eat hotdogs from a gas-and-go.” You sighed. “I can try again if you’re still in the mood?”

“After I just listened to you puke your guts up? I’m suddenly not very horny.” He pulled you closer so your head was resting on his chest. “But seriously, are you ok? You’ve been getting sick a lot lately.” 

“Yeah I guess it’s stress or something. I’ll be fine.” You nuzzled against him, placing your hand flush against his chest over his heart. 

You smiled as the ring caught the light and found yourself moving impossibly closer to Spencer. His grandmother's old ring had been upgraded, as had the one he wore, for newer silver matching bands inscribed on the inside with partners in crime. 

One of your stops on your travels before you’d made your way to Twentynine Palms had been in Atlantic City at a seedy motel just off the main strip. After a few drinks one night as you walked by a little drive-in chapel, Spencer had a proposition for. 

“What would you say I said we should get married?” He pulled you to a stop on the sidewalk. 

“Married?” You glared at him. 

“Right now. Partners in crime forever.” He grinned at you. 

“You’re joking, right?” Your brows furrowed. 

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Before we get swallowed up entirely in the lives of Samuel and Violet, I think Spencer and Y/N need to do this one last thing.” 

And really there had only been one answer to that. You and Spencer had been bound for life the moment you’d left DC with him, you were as good as married, so why not make it official? 

If your old team were to ever find one last trace of Spencer Reid and Y/N Y/L/N it would be the signing of marriage licences in a little Atlantic City chapel. 

Spencer purchased you the new rings as a surprise and that along with your rose gold heart necklace, were your most treasured possessions. 

“You don’t need to be stressed, sweetheart. It’s over, we’re safe now. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you.” He cooed, kissing your head. 

It really was amazing the difference a few months could make. Of course things weren’t ideal, you’d always be on the run, never able to return home but things with Spencer were as close to perfect as they could possibly be. 

Since fleeing Butte he’d been wonderful, the Spencer you’d known was still in there somewhere. You may be on the run but as long as this was the Spencer you woke up to every morning, you didn’t mind at all. 

But Spencer was wrong, things were far from over. At least you’d always have these moments to look back when everything came crumbling down. But for now, despite the stress within you, you knew Spencer was all you needed to feel whole. You and Spencer were two broken halves but maybe together you could patch each other up and finally feel complete. 

***

Two days after Luke Alvez arrived back from Crested Butte he received a phone call from the diner owner's son. 

Jesse McGill had informed him of the mysterious disappearance of the girl Mary, whom Luke had met at the diner, which was followed in quick succession by you and Spencer’s sudden departure from the town. 

It really didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. But unfortunately for Luke it did take a genius to pull it off and Spencer was sure to leave behind no trail, no scrap of evidence. And two months later and Mary still hadn’t been found and the BAU had no leads on you and Spencer’s whereabouts. You’d well and truly outsmarted them. 

In his spare time, which was very few and far between these days, he poured over the Duncan Green case file as well as images of the sparkling clean cabin you’d left behind in Butte in the hopes that maybe he’d missed something. He stayed late in the office every single night and looked for any reports of sightings of you and Spencer as Emily had officially registered you as missing persons. He scrolled through police databases for any other occurrences that might point to where the hell you were. 

He’d discovered two bodies buried in woodlands across the country which were similar in MO to Green but with no pertinent links between them, the BAU couldn’t investigate. 

Lyle Smith was found in a shallow grave with his throat cut in the Hoosier National Forest just north of Jasper, Indiana. The body of Brett Carlisle from Wichita, Kansas was found in the Rita Blanca National Grasslands in Texas. Both bodies had been subject to the elements but deemed to have been dead since before that little Nissan was picked up on Elk Avenue for the first time. So maybe Spencer had been on some kind spree since he’d left DC.

And that brought him onto the discovery of the burnt out Nissan, near identical to how they’d found Spencer’s Volvo. They’d spent three days searching the area surrounding where the vehicle was found for Mary’s body only to come up short. Of course, Spencer wasn’t stupid, he wouldn’t dispose of a body anywhere near the car. 

The only lead Luke had really had in the last two months was the filing of a marriage licence in the state of New Jersey. It was like a big middle finger in his face, clearly you’d both wanted him to find it. He’d driven to Atlantic City on one of his rare days off and canvassed the area near the wedding chapels, showing your photographs to anyone who would look. But he knew you’d be long gone. 

If he could just find a way to connect any of these crimes to Spencer, or to find Mary’s body then maybe he could convince you to come home. He was sure you had nothing to do with any of this and if had solid proof that Spencer had murdered one of these people maybe it could be his way to form a wedge between the two of you. No matter what happened, Luke would never stop trying to protect you. 

But god if it wasn’t taking its toll on him.

Luke Alvez was, in no uncertain terms, coming apart at the seams. The stitching holding him together had been removed thread by thread and at this point there was barely anything holding him together. Emily had expressed her concerns for his mental health, suggesting he seek medical help for what she had dubbed a depressive spiral. 

His response had been simply, “you’d be depressed too if your best friend had married a murderer” which had pretty much shut down the conversation. 

He knew he was devolving, he’d seen it hundred of times before. His apartment was a mess of case files, innocuous accounts of possible sightings and potential victims of Spencer. He barely slept, running mostly on coffee and energy bars. He was almost certain he was getting an ulcer. 

But he wouldn’t let this go. He couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t safe and he couldn’t rest until he knew you were. Maybe this obsession would eventually kill him, but it would be worth it to be able to free you from the clutches of Spencer Reid. 

***

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You scurried back to the car with your best apologetic smile as you slid into the passenger’s seat and Spencer pulled a face. 

“Did you puke again?” He frowned at you. 

“No.” You shook your head. 

“You were peeing again? You went when we got here.” He started the engine. 

You weren’t exactly sure where you were headed, Spencer had simply told you that you were going out for the day and with nothing better to do you’d followed along. You were somewhere along the I-15 heading north about two hours away from Twentynine Palms, at a gas station. You’d only stopped long enough for Spencer to fill up the Chevy and have a coffee and you’d used the bathroom twice, which was very unlike you. 

“I know, I think I drank too much coffee this morning.” You mused, putting on your seatbelt.

“You always drink too much coffee, but that’s an entirely different conversation.” He chuckled, putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the space. 

As he merged back onto the interstate you twirled your wedding band around your finger, watching the way his caught the sunlight through the windscreen and you smiled to yourself. 

“Where are we going, Spence? Not that I don’t like a spontaneous road trip but I thought we’d settled now? Driving long distances usually only equals bad things where we’re concerned.” You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Spencer removed one hand from the wheel and brought it to rest on your knee while he smiled at you softly. 

“We’re going to see my mom.” He spoke happily.

“Oh.” You nodded with a soft laugh. “Ok, good. You had me worried for a second.” 

“I told you sweetheart, you don’t need to worry about anything. Not anymore.” He gave your leg a squeeze, the adrenaline pulsing through his veins. 

His bloodlust had been sated for the past two months but now it had come back with avengence. He needed to kill and he had a particular target in mind who he was sure would satisfy his urges more so than any that had come before. 

But it was better to keep you in the dark. You were so happy lately and Spencer loved it when you were happy. He’d use visiting his mom as a distraction and he’d sneak off and extract his plan solo. You’d never need to know and your blissful little bubble didn’t need to be popped. 

It was a win-win. 

He ran over his plan in his head as he drove, making sure he had all the little details secure in his mind. There was no margin for error here, this had to be the perfect kill. 

The two of you mostly stayed silent until he’d made it about another half hour up the interstate and you huffed out a loud breath. 

“Goddamnit,” you grumbled. “I need to pee again.” 

***

Visiting Spencer’s mom had been pretty safe for the two of you given that if anyone ever asked her if you’d been here, she most likely wouldn’t remember. You spent a few hours with her upon your arrival in Vegas before Spencer took you for a three course meal at the very expensive Capital Grille on Las Vegas strip. 

After he walked you down to Caesars Palace in which you expected to be having drinks and were extremely surprised when Spencer strolled up to the reception desk stating he had a room reserved under his other alias Jack Waters. 

A bellboy led you up to one of the top floors and showed you to the Palace Premium Suite. You stood in the middle of the grand living room while Spencer tipped the young man and once the door was closed and the two of you were alone, he sidled up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“You like it?” He spoke as he kissed the side of your face. 

“Wh-what is happening?” You laughed, still in awe. “What did I do to deserve this?” 

“Consider it a belated, one night honeymoon.” His lips trailed down your neck. “And I guess just a small token of my gratitude for everything you’ve done for me. I know I have a hard time saying how I feel but I love you so fucking much and I am the luckiest man in the world to call you my wife.” 

“Spencer,” you sighed happily in your arms. “I love you too. And I’m the lucky one.” 

“Ok, now we’ve got that out of the way, tell me Mrs Reid, where would you like me to fuck you first?”

You moaned at his words, turning yourself around in his arms and attaching your lips together. 

“What are my options?” You spoke against his lips, feeling his dick growing hard as he pressed into you. 

“Well there are multiple couches, a four poster king sized bed, a pretty decadent bathtub, or there’s my personal favourite option…” his hands wandered under the hem of your shirt and over your back. 

“Which is?” You took hold of his lapels, tearing your lips away from his so you could look at him.

His pupils were already blown out with his lust, his lip quirked up into a sinful smirk. 

“We’re way up high, with some of the best views of Vegas.” He tugged your shirt up, quickly getting it over your head and tossing it aside. He took hold of your biceps and turned you back around to face the huge floor to ceiling windows overlooking the strip, his lips moving back to your ear. “My choice would be to fuck you up against the window. But that’s just me.” 

He was already leading you towards the windows, lips sucking the flesh of your neck, his free reaching between your bodies and unhooking your bra. He quickly got it off your arms and dropped it on the floor, and you made no protest when he pushed your front up against the window. You hissed slightly at the cool glass as it touched your nipples and Spencer smiled to himself. 

It was all a part of his plan. He would render you dumb with sex then run you an indulgent bubble bath with a large glass of wine to soothe your post-coital muscles. Then he’d tell you he’d left something at his mother's facility which was purposefully on the other side of town to buy him some time. 

He’d tell you he hopefully wouldn’t be gone long, but traffic on the strip at night could be a nightmare and he’d be back as soon as possible. He’d inform you of the bar and the spa downstairs if you wanted to use either while he was gone. 

And while you were preoccupied having a drink or getting a massage or whatever, he would seek out his target, slice his throat and be back before you knew it, with any luck rejuvenated enough for round two. 

He continued kissing your neck while he started unbuttoning your pants and you helped him wiggle them down your legs and kick them off. You could see Spencer in the reflection in the window start to work on the buttons of his shirt. You caught his eye and he smiled at you. 

He shucked his shirt off and pressed his bare chest against your back, caging you against the window with his hips, his hard cock pressing into your back. His lips moved back to your neck and worked on sucking deep bruises into your flesh whilst one hand wandered over your stomach and quickly dipped inside your panties. 

You closed your eyes as two fingers were soon pressing inside of you, his thumb massaging your clit. You rolled your ass backwards, grinding against his erection but you wobbled a little on your legs at the feeling of his fingers inside you. 

With your eyes closed your mind wandered of its own accord. There were times when you and Spencer were together that you found yourself thinking of Jesse, most specifically the last time you’d seen him when he’d fingered you in his doorway. 

It was entirely involuntary, you certainly didn’t mean to think about him and his strong tattooed arms and the large vein in his forearm that pulsed when his fingers were inside of you. You didn’t mean to imagine his wiry beard scratching your face as he kissed you. And you most definitely didn’t mean to picture him fucking you whilst Spencer was. Sometimes it just happened. 

Spencer was by no means an idiot and he knew you still thought about GI Mountain Man. He knew exactly what you looked like post orgasm and he’d known what the two of you had been doing when you’d said goodbye to him, even if you’d tried hard to hide it. There had been three, maybe four times when you’d said his name under your breath when he was fucking you but you’d never seemed to notice. 

Of course it bothered him, a part of him wanted to drive back to Butte and kill Jesse just to make himself feel better. But he was trying to be better for you and so he ignored the occasional slip of the tongue. 

Your hand snaked around his wrist, holding him firmly in place in your panties. He knew you were thinking about Jesse now, call it intuition, or gut instinct, but whatever it was Spencer knew. 

He used his free hand to relieve himself from his pants and move them down his thighs enough so they were out of his way. He was almost positive that Jesse wasn’t as big as him, couldn’t fill you up the way he could.

In one swift move, he removed his fingers from inside of you and hurriedly plunged his cock between your legs, causing you to gasp and fall flat against the window. Your eyes sprung open at the sudden intrusion and you made eye contact with him in the reflection.

“Jesus Christ, Spence.” You panted as he bottomed out. “A little warning next to him.” 

He chose to ignore you, placing his hands flush on the glass either side of your head as he started thrusting into you. He kept eye contact through the glass, not letting you close your eyes for fear you would start thinking of Jesse again. 

It’s not fair. I’ve done everything for her, I fucking married her and it’s still not enough. What makes him better than me? Why is he still on her mind? 

He tried not to let his anger cloud his judgement and had to rein himself back from fucking you too hard. He forced himself to slow down, thrusting you languidly against the window. You moaned in sync with one another while the Strip below illuminated you both in its chaotic glow. 

You kept your eyes on his in the reflection while he fucked you and all thoughts of Jesse left your head. When you were clenching around him, legs shaking from your impending orgasm, he took hold of your left hand and ran his fingers over your wedding band. 

“You’re mine.” He mumbled, his face contorting as his own orgasm snuck up on him. “Mine. My partner in crime, my wife, my…fuck.” 

He groaned the last word, head falling to your shoulder as he suddenly came inside of you. You whimpered as he filled you up, pushing you over the edge and your legs almost gave up with the force of your orgasm. 

You fell back against Spencer’s chest, his arms holding you up right even though his own legs were shaking. As you fought to catch your breath he peeled you away from the window as he slid out of you and helped you over to the couch. 

You collapsed onto it, panting heavily and pulling Spencer down with you. He laid his head on your chest and listened to the sound of your erratic heartbeat. 

You laid like this for a while until you were both breathing at a normal rhythm and Spencer untangled himself from your arms and got to his feet. He tucked himself away and tugged his pants back up before buttoning them. 

“I’m gonna run you a bubble bath.” He smiled softly down at you. 

“You gonna join me in it?” You smiled back sleepily. 

“Sadly not, I realised I left my wallet at Bennington.” He went to head towards the bathroom but he didn’t get far. 

“You had your wallet at dinner.” You sat up, frowning at the back of his head. 

Spencer froze in his tracks. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. 

“Uh,” he turned back to face you, quickly trying to think on his feet, which would be a lot easier if his head wasn’t still hazy from his orgasm. “Not my wallet, I meant the burner phone. I should go and get it.” 

You scrutinised him for a moment but thankfully for him your own head was also bleary and wouldn’t allow you to think too much into it. 

“Ok.” You shrugged, flopping back to the couch. 

Spencer exhaled heavily, continuing on his way to the bathroom. He started the water, pouring in an ample amount of bubble bath and leaving the tub to fill. 

“There’s a bar downstairs and a spa, even a casino. If you get bored with the bath and I’m not back, go nuts.” He spoke as headed back into the room, locating the bottle of red wine he’d had sent to the room before you arrived. 

He made quick work of the cork and poured you a large glass before coming back over to the couch and dropping down next to you. He handed you the glass and you sat yourself up against the cushions again. 

“Hmm I like honeymoons.” You smiled, bringing your glass to your lips and taking a small sip. 

Moments later your face fell and you gagged, thrusting the glass back at Spencer before leaping from the couch and running as fast as your legs could carry you to the bathroom. 

Spencer heard the toilet seat slam back against the cistern and then the distinctive sound of vomiting echoed around the room.

Realistically he was smart enough to figure out what was going on, as were you, but both of your heads were clouded by other thoughts and so you both missed the obvious. 

Spencer padded back to the bathroom and found you on your knees, wiping your hand over your mouth. You looked up at him with large, sad eyes. 

“The wine turned against me.” You whined. “Goddamn gas-and-go hotdogs.” 

Spencer smiled sadly at you and slid to the floor next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as the bath continued to fill behind him. 

“Are you going to be ok if I pop out?” Please god say yes, I need this, it has to be tonight. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’s passed again now, I guess I just won’t be drinking any wine tonight.” You sighed. “You go, do your thing.” 

“As long as you’re sure.” Spencer pushed himself back to his feet and then held his hands out to help you up. 

“Of course. Do you think you’ll be gone for long?” 

“No idea, traffic at this time of night will probably be a pain, but I promise I’ll hurry.” He stroked your hair back from your face. 

“Ok.” You nodded, lowering yourself to sit on the edge of the tub. “Go, I’m fine. I can run a bath.” 

“I won’t be long.” He went to kiss you but then thought better of it as your breath smelt like vomit. Instead he kissed his first and middle finger and then placed them on your lips making you chuckle. 

Soon he was heading out of the room in search of his bag so he could change into jeans and t-shirt. The weapons were in the Chevvy’s glovebox, ready for their next assignment. 

He dressed quickly and got his shoes on, throwing on a hoodie before grabbing the car keys and heading to the door. 

“Be safe, sweetheart.” He called as he reached for the handle. 

“Love you.” You replied and it made his heart swell every time he heard you say that. 

As he opened the door, his wedding ring caught his eye and he rolled his lip between his teeth. He forced open the door, ignoring the way his heart practically exploded when he looked at his ring. He had a job to focus on. 

But the truth was, you were the only thing keeping him together. He was lost and you’d found him, taken him in and patched him up. His scars both mental and physical didn’t phase you, if anything you’d loved him harder because of them. You’d fixed him up in ways you’d never understand and he hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake in what he was about to do. 

He was fairly certain you’d never walk away from him, that nothing he could do could be worse than the things he’d already put you through. Because he was sure one day all that thread keeping him together would come unravelled and if he had no one there to stitch him back up again he would be torn so deeply there would be no repairing him. And god only knows how quickly a broken man would devolve.

No, it's no wonder I feel broken,

Are you the one to fix me up, patching up the work they done?

Try and sew me,

So thread the needle, tie it off, teach me how to trust someone.

Really hoping that you stay,

That you never walk away,

Every word I shouldn't say, I shouldn't say, I shouldn't say it.

Do you feel the stress in me,

Steady bursting at the seams?

You're the only one I need to make me complete, yeah.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, don't tear me apart,

I've been stuck in the rut, patched up in the dark.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, there's pins in my heart, oh,

Pardon all my precious scars.

No, it's no wonder you've been feeling,

Like a doll in lost and found, so mistreated, thrown around.

Who you kidding? (You kidding),

Every flaw and every fray, that's what makes you sexy to me.

Really hoping that I stay,

I could never walk away,

Every word we shouldn't say, we shouldn't say, we shouldn't say it.

Do you feel the stress in me,

Steady bursting at the seams?

You're the only one I need to make me complete, yeah.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, don't tear me apart,

I've been stuck in the rut, patched up in the dark.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, there's pins in my heart, oh,

Pardon all my precious scars.

Elegant and broken, tasteful, tattered clothing,

I guess we've been caught in the middle of love.

Motive through emotion, damaged but we're golden,

I guess we've been caught in the middle of love.

Elegant and broken, tasteful, tattered clothing,

I guess we've been caught in the middle of love.

Motive through emotion, damaged but we're golden,

I guess we've been caught in the middle of love.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, don't tear me apart,

I've been stuck in the rut, patched up in the dark.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, there's pins in my heart, oh,

Pardon all my precious scars.

Really hoping that you stay,

Pray you never walk away,

Pardon all my precious scars.

Stitch me up, stitch me up, there's pins in my heart,

Oh, pardon all my precious scars.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom @nomajdetective

[jo-harrington]

Corrective Action (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Reader and Eddie have been hanging out for a little while and a lot of people seem to think it’s ok to voice their opinion around her.

Previous Part: Interview Prep

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining and slow burn (yes still, always). Bullying, manipulative/helicopter parents, ACAB, all around shitty people that might trigger some things. Thick skinned reader who is sick of said shitty people. Sad boy Eddie. Hurt/Comfort. Pinky promises.

Note: I really hope this one is good guys, I feel like I wrote half of this in an airport wishing I was actually drinking (I did and I was, but I'm sober and kind of currently wishing I wasn't). If this is me fishing for compliments...I guess this is just yummy bait.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager (in chronological order because I’m chaotic and I’m not gonna stop writing this way) and all of my other random Eddie Headcanons.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

It started with Stacey at work.

You were sitting at the little desk in the stockroom, working out payroll and the next schedule, when she came to clock out.

“Hey, good job today on upselling diamonds,” you told her, incredibly proud. While she was great at customer service, she really had a hard time getting customers to add to their basket. You had worked on coaching her and she was quickly becoming your best sales associate. “I’m proud of you, you’ve been doing so great!”

“Yeah thanks! All of these rich PTA moms I swear to god,” she rolled her eyes. “I guess my mom was only a hard ass if I asked her to buy me things though. If anyone else tried to sell things to her, she always caved.”

She continued going on about her mom getting all the upgrades when she got a new car.

“…Mr. Harrington almost started singing when she finally signed the lease.” She laughed but then sobered up, glancing around the stockroom to see if anyone else was around. Stacey cleared her throat. “Hey I’ve been meaning to ask…”

“What’s up?”

“Are you, like…dating Eddie Munson?”

It would have been an innocent enough question if not for her tone. Or the way she grimaced and scrunched her nose, as if just saying his name put a bad taste in her mouth.

Eddie had been wary of your interactions with Stacey from the beginning, you recalled. And when you had asked him why later on, he beat around the bush a little before giving in.

She was someone who had been in his classes for as long as he could remember, she was not a cheerleader but certainly one of the popular girls, and when her jock boyfriend got a job at the local insurance office after missing his chances at getting an athletic scholarship, she stayed behind too and made all of the local gossip her business.

And for some reason, even if he swore he never remembered saying more than two words to her at any given time, she made rumors about him her specialty.

You’d been at a loss. On the one hand, you knew Eddie dealt with bullies and rumors even if he never outright admitted it to you. But on the other, you had no reason to distrust Stacey. All you knew about the people you worked with were just what they told you and what you were able to witness while working together. And you knew Stacey engaged in all sorts of gossip. But Eddie’s name had never exited her mouth.

Until now.

“What?” You were so shocked at the entire scenario that you didn’t even realize she would take that as an invitation for her to continue.

“Well he’s been hanging around the store and I’ve seen you guys sitting together sometimes. But like…well, haven’t you heard?” She got closer and sat in the chair next to you. “He, like, sacrifices virgins in the woods and has, I don’t know, summoned demons before. He’s a Satanist, a freak.”

You bristled at the name-calling and the accusations.

“Stace—“

”And you’re new so of course you don’t know—“

“Stacey I’m gonna stop you right there,” you held up your hand and she immediately shut up and sat up a little straighter. “First of all, it is incredibly inappropriate to ask me about my personal life. About any aspect of it, outside of what I willingly share with you. I am your boss, I’m not your friend, this isn’t high school. We are all entitled to privacy and I am incredibly uncomfortable discussing this with you.

“Second, again not that you need to know, but no. I am not dating Eddie. Eddie works here in StarCourt and you make friends with people when you work at a shopping mall. That being said, Eddie is not only an employee at StarCourt, but also a human being and a neighbor to all of us—”

“Ew no he isn’t. He lives in that—“ she started but you weren’t having any of it.

“And because of that he deserves some respect. Calling someone a freak and spreading rumors isn’t respectful. Which leads me to the last point.

“One of the values of this company is integrity. Doing the right thing, even if it’s hard to do. And I’m sorry but bullying, under any circumstance, is not the right thing to do. So even though you are off the clock, you are still on company property and you are certainly not operating with integrity. I’m incredibly disappointed that I have to have this kind of conversation with you, but I will consider this a warning for next time.

“If I hear talk like this coming from you again, there will be disciplinary action,” you concluded. “Do you understand?”

You hated to do it, you hated to put on the manager pants. You hated that Stacey’s eyes welled with tears the longer you talked and that she trembled as she finally nodded. But even if Eddie wasn’t your friend, you wouldn’t condone this kind of behavior. You held your team to an incredibly high standard and this wasn’t it.

You sent Stacey home and got back to the schedule with a sour taste in your mouth.

---

The next time, you were actually out with Eddie.

He had told you that the sunrise at the old quarry was second to none and when you confessed that you had never actually watched the sunset or the sunrise before, he immediately figured out the best day for you to go together.

He had put together a picnic with all sorts of breakfast foods, because apparently no one made pancakes, bacon, and eggs better than he did—

“Got an A+ in home ec, thank you very much. Didn’t help me get my GPA up but Wayne is pretty happy when I have breakfast waiting for him after a double shift.”

—and treats from the gas station since he insisted that you needed to experience all of the convenience food he loved. There was a thermos full of coffee and a boat load of blankets in the back of the van. He picked you up at your apartment, ringing the bell at ass o’clock in the morning looking way too energetic for someone who woke up so early.

“What do you mean? I never went to sleep!”

The radio was low as he drove you towards the outskirts of town; he’d also surprised you with a replacement of your old Boston cassette that you had nearly played to death, and he hummed along and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel along with Foreplay.

You reached a certain sign on the road signaling the quarry was up ahead, only for the tell tale lights and “whoop whoop” of a squad car to sound off from behind you. Eddie cursed and pulled off to the side of the road.

“Sweetheart can you grab me, uh” he motioned for the glove box. You’d already popped it open and dug through to find his registration as he pulled the wallet from his pocket. “Thanks.”

The crunch of gravel caused Eddie to look at this side mirror and groan a low, drawn out “fuck.”

“Munson,” the officer greeted roughly once the window was rolled down.

“Callahan,” Eddie replied. “Hopper got you on traffic patrol now huh?”

“Very funny,” Callahan deadpanned. “You know why I pulled you over.”

“Actually I don’t,” Eddie chuckled dryly. “License plates are up to date, I wasn’t speeding, and that tail light you busted last time you pulled me over is fixed.”

What the fuck?

"I don't like the tone you're taking with me, kid," Callahan spat. "Not a respectful bone in your body, any time I have to pull you over. It's for your safety after all. And the safety of the entire town."

How many times had this guy pulled Eddie over? 5? 10?

“Anyway, we just broke up a party over in Loch Nora about an hour ago, lot of kids high and wasted,” Callahan continued and there was no way you could have guessed the words that were coming out of his mouth next. “I know how you like to hang around parties like those, do a few deals. Maybe you decided to take advantage of some pretty girl who doesn’t know where she is.”

Callahan leaned down a little further and shined a flashlight into the van, directly at you.

“How you doing tonight miss? Can you tell me your name please?”

Your world was shaken to the core.

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, clenching your fists.

“You got your wits about you, or do I need to call an ambulance or something? Maybe your mom, if she needs to come pick you up?”

“I’m fine, officer, but I don’t like what you’re implying about my friend here.” You responded harshly. “Or about me. I am a grown woman, I am in this van of my own volition, with full mental capacities other than the fact that I’m maybe a little tired because I just woke up 20 minutes ago to go see the sunrise with my friend.”

Callahan stumbled over his words for a second, immediately backtracking as Eddie sat speechless in the driver's seat.

“We were never at a party in Loch Nora. Eddie didn’t kidnap me. Neither of us are drunk or high. So I’m pretty sure this is an unlawful traffic stop officer,” you concluded.

Both officer Callahan and Eddie looked at you with dumbstruck expressions.

“What, it’s true. So unless you have another reason to have pulled us over, officer?” You asked. “Can we be on our way now?”

He cleared his throat and handed the license and registration back to Eddie.

“Must have seen another van outside the party. An easy mistake to make,” he replied. “Got yourself a smart girlfriend there, Munson. Don’t fuck it up like you usually do ok?”

Callahan did another “whoop whoop” before pulling away and heading back to town, but Eddie continued to sit stiffly, refusing to move.

“You ok?” You asked, putting a hand on his arm.

“I can’t…he didn’t…” Eddie stumbled over his words. “I’m not like that ok? I don’t…I don’t take advantage of girls at parties. Fuck. Please don’t think—”

“I didn’t,” you assured him.

“Callahan always has it in for me, man,” He explained. “I don’t even know what I did. Caught me smoking weed on school grounds with the guys one summer way back and it was like a permanent target was placed on my back.”

“Small town cops with a big ego,” you explained, knowing fully well how douchebags like that were. “And you’re the resident bad boy.”

“You gotta stop calling me that,” he groaned in, what you believed to be, embarrassment.

---

And it kept happening.

Whispers when you went out for pizza, eyes watching you at the grocery store with pity or disgust, you didn’t know for sure. The one time you both stopped in Montgomery Ward on lunch to get a new dress (and for Eddie not to spend his lunch alone) and the saleswoman kept hovering as though you were about to steal.

Well, not you. Eddie.

No one usually dared to say anything to your face but you could still hear it. “She hangs around that Munson boy. Ugh such a troublemaker. Poor girl. Someone should tell her. He’s a trickster, that one.”

And no, you knew it wasn’t everyone. Just the busybodies who didn’t know what they were talking about.

You’d usually roll your eyes and continue on with your day. You could take whatever was thrown your way—some people just sucked and they couldn’t keep their mouths shut—but you knew how it affected Eddie. You could see it when you were with him, how deflated he became.

Your friend, one of the best people you knew, regardless of your stupid crush on him. He became distant, shrunk like he wanted to take up less space in the world.

You just about had enough of it.

And it all came to a head one day, a week after you hired Chrissy Cunningham as a part-time associate.

Her mother dropped her off after Cheer camp one day and wanted to see the new store.

You had a pretty solid parent policy that you made known to your teenage associates, just as your old store manager did when she first hired you at 16. Parents could come in and visit, shop, sure. But they weren’t going to interfere with the business. No calling to complain if the schedules conflicted with family nights. No calling in sick on their kids behalf.

“If you’re old enough to take on the responsibility of a job, you’re taking all of the responsibilities, ok? Even the not so nice ones.”

Chrissy, just like the others, understood.

Chrissy’s mom, on the other hand, had a bit of a problem with that.

You were nice enough when they first got in, getting to hear how the whole family was so excited about her first job, how it would look great on college applications come Fall. Chrissy, of course, had told you all of this in her interview; she was a sweet kid who clearly was trying to take on a lot and once you met her mom, you understood where the pressure was coming from.

Your mom was like that too, in her own way. Picking and picking and picking.

“Oh actually,” Mrs Cunningham started and from her tone you knew it was just going to be the beginning of a whole to-do. “I was meaning to ask if Chrissy could change her schedule? I saw you had put her on Saturday afternoons. But there’s a junior cheer team at the park district that she helps coach and they have meets on the first Saturday of the month.”

The too-big, overly-whitened smile was an unspoken threat of “you’re going to give me what I want or else.”

You explained that weekends were a mandatory availability for your associates who were still in school, but it didn’t mean they would always be scheduled. You had already told Chrissy that you would give her the days of her meets off, if she let you know the dates at least 2 weeks in advance. It was only once a month, after all.

That smile fell, like it always did, when someone like Mrs. Cunningham, like your mother, like all the other Stepford-wife types in town, didn’t get their way.

She tried once again to explain, this was important to Chrissy and she could trade Saturdays for another day. Maybe Thursday afternoon? Only if she didn’t have too much homework, of course.

But there was no way to know that when you were writing the schedule two weeks out, you argued.

"Then I guess you'll just have to find a replacement for her shifts if she can't come in," Mrs. Cunningham argued.

“Ma’am, I leave the responsibility of schedule and availability to my associates when I hire them,” you explain. “Not their parents. You said you were excited for Chrissy to have a job. It’s only been a week. If she thinks she can handle Saturdays—or even if she doesn’t—I’ll leave it up to her. School hasn't even started yet; let's just give it some time before we try to make changes ok?”

And as one does when they feel attacked, she went after low hanging fruit.

“I wouldn’t expect you,” she sneered, “to know a whole lot about responsibility…or planning ahead for the future. You work in this little shop; it's not even a real job. I’ll bet you didn’t even go to college.

“And Chrissy said you’re friends with the Munson boy right? That he shows up sometimes to talk to you. He’s never known a day of responsibility in his life. He’s…he’s a drug dealer, a troublemaker—”

“Alright that’s it,” you interjected. “This is a place of business—my place of business—and we’re getting busy, so I will have to ask you to leave Mrs. Cunningham. Unless you want to stay for a piercing, I do have paying customers to tend to. I will discuss the schedule again with Chrissy. I promise.

“But for now, thanks for stopping by, it was so nice to meet you.”

---

“God she was such a bitch,” you complained as you watched Eddie throw cardboard boxes into the bailer.

This was typical for lunches spent together. You would both run trash down to the loading dock and complain about work while Eddie smoked—allowing you to luxuriate in his secondhand smoke for a little while—and then you would head to the food court to eat and just…spend time together.

Listen to music, talk about movies or books or whatever else came to mind.

This friendship was still new, there was plenty to talk about.

You kind of hoped there would always be something new to talk about. And that you two would be talking and having lunch together for a long time.

Best not get your hopes up though.

Currently, you were recounting the interaction with Mrs. Cunningham, purposefully leaving out the way she brought him into conversation.

What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Right?

“Poor Chrissy,” you sighed.

“Poor Chrissy?” Eddie scoffed. “Yeah, really sucks to be on top.”

“You know, she might be on top at school—”

“And her family might be rich, and she might live in a big house, and she might only need to work so it looks good on college applications. See where I’m going with this?”

“—but it sucks to have a parent constantly shitting on you. Even if they do it for ‘your benefit...'.”

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

“I stayed at home with you kids and this is the thanks I get?”

“I can’t make you respect this family. But don’t you have any self-respect?”

Maybe you were just projecting...

“Speaking of Queen Bee, here she comes now with her lover boy,” Eddie said, batting his eyelashes dramatically, and then he made a gagging noise. You were exiting the service corridors and spotted Chrissy, who had clocked out for the day, walking towards the food court with a very clean, athletic-looking blond boy.

“Now if you wanna talk about a bitch, look no further than Jason Carver.”

He proceeded to tell you all about how Jason and Jeff were neighbors, how they used to be friends as kids. How they stopped talking once Jason started up with sports, and he started picking on Jeff once he made varsity.

“He had some macho, roided up growth spurt last year, and that paired with the self-righteous bible thumping meant that Hellfire was an easy target. Those meathead jocks picked on us before, sure, but…I dunno, Jason is a whole other level of cruel. 

“And he doesn’t hesitate to beat up the younger kids, but if I’m around…well needless to say they’re a little scared of me, they don’t want to take a chance that I’ll put a curse on them or something.

“I’ll do whatever I need to, I’ll be their villain, if it means keeping those kids safe.” He rubbed the sleeve of his flannel against his nose and sniffled lightly. “But it’s not like there’s anything I can do aside from that. I have to just sit there and take it, let my friends take it, because if I don’t…if I don’t, then I become everything they say I am. Angry, dangerous, a menace, a criminal.”

“Eddie that’s terrible,” you grumbled, Chrissy’s mom and your own troubles forgotten. "You don't deserve to be picked on like that."

Eddie hummed in contemplation for a moment.

“Ok enough of them, do you want to share chili cheese fries?” He diverted. You hesitated, not wanting to drop the subject entirely, but also not wanting to push him. Eddie flashed you those big, pleading eyes, though, and you caved.

Asshole knew exactly what he was doing.

“Sure,” you smiled.

“And you’ll let me buy today,” he continued, holding his hand out before you could argue. “Because you feel bad for me you’re gonna let me do it.”

“What logic is that?!” You exclaimed. He giggled maniacally and motioned for you to find a table before he practically skipped to the line to order.

He was lucky that he was cute.

---

Chrissy approached you the next time she had a shift together; you were planning to pull her aside at the end of her shift to double check that she was sure about her availability and to go over the parent policy once again. It was kind of a relief that she took the initiative instead.

“I’m sorry about my mom,” she began timidly. “She shouldn't have come in here just to interfere. It's just that I do have a lot going on, and when I told her I wanted to work at the mall too...well, she just..."

"Chrissy, I understand," you interjected. "Really I do, you don't need to explain. I knew when I hired you that you had a lot on your plate."

"Thank you again, by the way."

"I just want to make sure that you're sure this is the right move. Do we need to look at your availability again?" you asked. "If your mom comes back to have this conversation again, I'm not going to stand for it. I need employees who are responsible for their own time."

"No I know..." she sighed. "I'll talk with her. I really do like working here."

"I like having you work here," you reassured her. "You're doing a really great job so far."

"R-really?" she smiled, eyes getting a little glossy. "Thank you. I'm trying. My mom...never seems to be happy with anything I do. If it's not what I do, it's how long it takes, and if it's not that, then it's how I look, and--" She was starting to breathe a little heavily and you sighed.

"Hey listen, I get it," you said gently. "Mom's...well, sometimes they can be the worst. They know exactly what buttons to push. And I don't want to sound insensitive because I want you to know you can talk to me any time, I'm here for you. But we are on the sales floor.

"I know your shift is almost over, if you want to take a few to go in back and settle down before you leave, you can," you encouraged her. It wasn't a busy day; you could afford to give her a few extra minutes to herself.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, Mindy will be back from lunch in a few and I can come and grab you if I need you."

Chrissy gave you a watery smile and then headed back into the stockroom.

There were a few minutes of restocking bracelets before the shop bell rang as a new customer walked in.

"Hey! Welcome in!" You greeted brightly, mindlessly, before looking up to find Chrissy's boyfriend standing there. He smiled and nodded in greeting.

"Hey, I'm here to pick Chrissy up," he explained.

"You're a little early," you laughed, trying to be cordial despite Eddie's words about him echoing in your mind. "She's just in back finishing up. I'll let her know you're here."

"Nah, that's ok," Jason shrugged. "I wanted to talk to you really quick."

You frowned at him and narrowed your eyes.

"Boyfriends unfortunately don't qualify for the employee discount," you stated lightly, hoping that this was the only thing he had to ask. "So if you have a little sister or something--"

"No, it's about Eddie Munson," he continued. "You really need to stay away from him."

Yeah. That was exactly what you were afraid he would say.

Ugh, you were really getting tired of this.

And it wasn't just that you were sick of people meddling, it was this boy in particular who was really rubbing you the wrong way. Gossipy sales associates with jock boyfriends, useless troublesome cops, nosy housewives, and well-meaning grandmas were one thing.

But a high school boy who was still wearing a letterman jacket in July, with a too nice smile and the audacity to have a savior complex when he was the one tormenting other kids?

That was where you drew the line.

You just wondered if you were willing to lose your job because of him.

“I'm telling you this for your own good. The crowd he’s a part of…,” Jason leaned closer as though it was a secret. “They’re a bunch of wastoids, listening to that devil's music, trying to lure virgins into the woods to sacrifice. And if you want to sit with the right crowd at lunch when school starts--”

You barked a laugh at this, right in his face, and he backed away looking confused.

Ok, so this wasn't "lose your job" worthy.

You mentally pulled on both your Disappointed Older Sibling and Angry Store Manager pants to gear up for this fight.

"Ok kid, real talk," you started, clapping your hands like a coach would. "I'm not in the business of yelling at teenage boys. And as flattering as it is that you might think I'm still in high school, there is no way a teenager would be managing a store. So there's point number one. Number two, don't assume a lady's age ok? At all. In either direction. That's a life lesson I'm gonna give you for free.

"Number three, and not that this conversation isn't...just really lovely, I need to get a point across and I'm sincerely doubtful you're gonna listen to me anyway. I just need you to understand that...like, whoever is hanging out with who, or going where, or doing what, is generally none of your business. Especially your girlfriend's boss. It's really disappointing that a nice boy like you is gonna cause his girlfriend to lose her job because he can't mind his own business."

And that was the punctuation at the end of the sentence to make him look nervous and a little sweaty.

You felt a little bad saying it, because no, you weren't going to fire Chrissy because of this dumb boy. But hopefully this would be a lesson learned.

"E-e-eddie was hanging around Chrissy the other day," he stuttered, looking extremely out of his element. Never been the person who had to face consequences before; you knew the type. "I saw him in here when I came to pick her up. She said...you were his friend and he was just waiting for you."

"I'm sure he was waiting for me."

"He always had crushes on the cheerleaders," he explained. "He was sniffing around this girl Julie a few years ago and she found out he was into this satanic stuff...I figured either you or Chrissy were next..."

"Oh buddy," you sighed. "And you figured if you came in here and told me not to hang around him, I would be spared...and Chrissy would be too?"

"See? You get it."

"Except that's really not how things work in real life or at a shopping mall, kid," you said. "Everyone is allowed to go wherever they want and talk to whoever they want. And I, as one of the managers in this building, am able to assess what is a danger to myself and my employees and Eddie certainly isn't one of them. Except for his corny jokes, he is harmless.

"You on the other hand," you continued, savoring the moment Jason's eyes got a little wider. "Approached me with a very distinct and threatening energy. So unless you want me to call mall security and make sure you are no longer allowed on the premises, I will need you to...re-evaluate your tone of voice and your intention of visiting.

"So, what was your name again?"

"J-Jason Carver, ma'am."

Ew. Ma'am. Ok you weren't that old. But you could deal with it.

"Jason Carver," your tone changed immediately, back to the sickening Store Manager voice you defaulted to on a regular basis. Eddie had called it unsettling before, to hear you go from your regular tone of voice to that. Jason's eye twitched and you grinned maniacally. "It's so nice to meet you. Chrissy was telling everyone it's your anniversary coming up?"

His eyes shifted slightly, and he laughed nervously.

"Ye-yes ma'am," he agreed.

"And what are you planning to get her as a gift?" you asked. He froze again. Ok, no gift; Chrissy definitely deserved better than that. "I think a necklace would be really lovely. Not from here, I can see you looking at the jewelry wall. But there's a really nice jewelry store downstairs that has birthstone pendants and stuff. I think she would really love something from there."

"I-I think that's a great idea," he nodded vigorously.

The door to the stockroom opened and Chrissy walked out with her bag in hand, ready for you to check it.

"Ok, I'm all set to go then, thank you so much for--Jason!" Chrissy smiled when she saw her boyfriend. "I thought you were going to wait for me downstairs."

He cleared his throat and composed himself.

"Figured I would come up and surprise you," he grinned smoothly. "Met your boss, she's...really cool, just like you said."

Nice save.

Ok maybe he wasn't as stupid as you originally thought.

Chrissy waved goodbye as they left, and Jason had the right sense to keep his mouth shut.

---

You waited outside Tape World as the mall started to slow down and get dark. There was a little coin-operated horse right outside of the store and you leaned against it and wondered, if it was a real horse, how fast it could take you and Eddie out of this shit hole of a town, away from all of the people who said horrible things.

You had nothing to complain about though. Eddie had to deal with it for years. He did so much to protect his friends...all you wanted to do was to protect him too.

The gate opened up and Eddie ducked underneath, grinning at you once it was locked and he was upright once again. He muttered a quick goodbye to the associate who closed with him before he approached you.

"Hey, it's only Thursday," he laughed. "Did I forget we had plans? I thought you opened."

"No, I was a mid," you shrugged. "But I stayed because..."

Should you tell him? You didn't want to upset him, or have him pull away from you, like he always did whenever talk of his reputation around town was mentioned. You wanted your silly, carefree, wonderful best friend not to have to suffer because of narrow minded people anymore.

"Beeeccaauuuuseee." He hums for a moment. "Because you knew that I was planning a Little Debbie taste test for Sunday and that all of the snacks were in the van right now?"

"What?" you laughed. "Oh my God."

"You said you were more of a Hostess person. I am trying to change your allegiance to the Dark Side of the Force." He stood taller, theatrically trying to mimic Darth Vader. "What better way than with a joint or two and a shit ton of snack cakes at the lake."

"Eddie!"

"What? Don't tell me you have never smoked before," he said in mock offense. "What rock have you been living under? I'm going to have to call your parents, young lady. They did too good a job raising you."

You stared at him for a minute as he laughed and you couldn't help yourself; you quickly closed the distance between the two of you and wrapped your arms around his waist. He went stiff for a second before placing one of his arms around your shoulders and his other hand on the back of your head.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly. "I mean, I know I did good with the Little Debbie, but you don't have to smoke if you don't want to. I was just kidding."

"No, it's not..." you sighed.

Hugging Eddie was nothing like hugging a girl friend--all squeezes and giggles over something silly and stupid--or hugging a relative--stiff and a little cold, your family not really ones for outward affection to begin with. He was just the right hug shape, his arms at the right height, the right length to wrap around you. His cheek at the right height to rest on the top of your head if he really wanted to (which you really hoped he did). His stupid waist that was perfect for you to wrap your arms around and soft enough that you could squeeze a little bit and he would actually give instead of just stiff and there.

An Eddie Hug was a perfect hug.

And hopefully your hug was perfect for him too, so that it wouldn't hurt him or scare him away as you told him...

"You remember last week?" you began. "You said Jason Carver is the biggest bitch I'd ever meet?"

"Y-yeah," he replied hesitantly, getting a little stiff in your arms, but he did nothing to pull away from you.

"Well, I met him and he is," you continued.

"What did he do?" Eddie asked, irritation evident in his voice. "If...if he did something, said something to you, I swear to God I--"

"I handled it," you cut him off. "He tried to scare me away from you. He said...well, it doesn't matter does it?"

"I'm sure it's what everyone says about me."

"And I told him he could get fucked," you said.

"What?!" Eddie finally pushed you away from him, hands gripping your arms tightly, as he laughed. "No you didn't."

"No I didn't," you shook your head. "But I might as well have. I think I scared him."

"Did you do the creepy voice?" he asked.

"Yeah," you giggled.

"I fucking hate that," he shivered.

"One day, Eddie Munson, you will answer the phone with a 'y'ello' and you will forever be turned to the Dark Side too," you mimicked his Darth Vader impression. "Just you wait and see."

"Never, I would sooner die!" He threw an arm across his eyes dramatically and turned away from you. After a moment had passed, he stood up straight again, hands fidgeting at his sides. "So, uh, are we cool?"

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"Because everyone tells you to stay away from me," he shrugged. "That I'm no good. That I'm a freak. I've been hearing it all my life. But I don't think I could stand it if I heard it from you too."

"Eddie," you started, worrying at your lip for a second. "I know how soul crushing it is to constantly have to hear how bad you are, how you're never gonna live up to whatever expectations others have of you. But listen to me, and listen good: you are absolutely wonderful.

"A wonderful neighbor, a wonderful coworker, a wonderful friend. Who cares what other people think about you; who cares, even...what I think about you?"

"I care," he shrugged.

"But it doesn't matter how many people tell me that you're bad, I'm never gonna think that about you ok? You're so many things but you're also just...good. Ok?"

"Ok," he nodded, eyes getting progressively more watery by the second.

"And don't you start with the self-deprecating shit around me anymore either," you weakly swatted at his shoulder and his torso, and he laughed. "I can't take it. Only one of us can be a miserable piece of shit, and I'm older, so I have dibs."

"You're not a miserable piece of shit," he chuckled. "You're wonderful too."

"No more of this...sad sackery then? From either of us?" you asked and held out a pinky to him. "You can't break a pinky swear."

Eddie wrapped his pinky around yours tightly.

"No more. Upon punishment of death."

---

Next Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.04

Tag List (can I call you guys the Sales Associates? OMG, that's what it's gonna be): @gaysludge @storiesbyrhi @tayhar811 @spookybabey @word-wytchh @maidenofartemis @dreamlandcreations @wickedbelle

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I'm sure I missed some tag requests, but I have been out of town with shoddy internet access so blame that, not me.

[angelwoozi]

sugar ♡ ljh

pairing ; boyfriend!jihoon x reader

rating / genre ; sfw // tooth rotting fluff, humor

summary ; its a lazy morning. and your boyfriend is struggling to make a coffee.

wc ; 927

warnings ; kissing

note ; this is absolute idiocy !! i was very much into floofy thoughts and this is a pure soft jihoon brainrot so bear with me!! unedited !!

aw masterlist

----

The curtains of the living room move a little bit as the warm breeze scurries in and hits your face, which is barely awake.

It was 10 am in the morning, albeit a slow morning, and you were trying to keep your eyes open so that you don't fall asleep on your boyfriend trying to make you breakfast.

You knew that apartment was your home – given that you signed the lease and all. But the true feeling of home invaded you whenever you saw Jihoon and his tiniest gestures to bring a smile to your face. To make your worries vanish and calm down your heart. His eyes which disappeared whenever he smiled from ear to ear, the sound of his excited laughter, the touch of his fingers carding through your hair when you laid your head on his chest – all of it brought home to you.

Right now, the feeling was making your heart soar through the clouds as you saw him bustling around the kitchen with a kettle and a plate of toast in his hands and a rather – confused expression on his face?

"Hoon?"

"Hmm?" he quips back, unfocused.

"What are you searching for?"

"Huh?" he comes to a halt and looks at you owlishly through his glasses which were a little askew.

So. Very. Cute.

You smile and shake your head at his complete unawareness of his own state.

"You are searching for something?" you try again.

"Ah yeah. Sugar."

You furrow your eyebrows and stand up, to go and help him find it. He resumes once he sees you in action and pulls out your mugs from the cabinet.

It's comforting, it's domestic, it's how homely and calm you wanted your Sunday morning to be. Your eyes follow his movements as he searches for the sugar when you notice it.

The jar of sugar by the stove – the stove on which he has set a pan for his eggs.

It's been there all along.

"Jihoon."

"What?" he is exasperated and you want to smack his head for his idiocy.

"There's the jar." you point to it and he goes still as he follows your movement. A second later, he scoffs.

"That's salt, Y/N."

No words. You just glare at him with an eyebrow raised. Even though it is sleep-ridden, your glare is taunting – because that is sugar, not salt. The big sticker around it suggests so and you yourself were the one to stick it and fill the jar.

"Oh my god. It is sugar."

The laugh that leaves your lips is instinctive and you immediately wrap your arms around Jihoon's torso from the back.

"You need sleep." you mumble into his hoodie, cheek squished against his back. His shoulders shake as he laughs at your comment and you hum.

His scent overpowers your senses and you almost sigh before you are suddenly deprived of the feeling of him pressed up against you. You whine with your eyes closed when you feel him move away, you are still rooted to your spot. A laugh sounds in your ears at your antiques and a moment later you are wrapped in the warmest embrace of your love – this time with your cheek against his heart.

A kiss lands on the top of your head and you melt in his hands.

"You are making breakfast."

"That was some quick observation, love." he laughs and you smack his back.

"Still quicker than you finding the jar."

"Not reall-"

"No no. Technically, it was me who found the jar and-"

"You know what?" He cuts you off by squeezing you tighter and rolling his eyes as he brings you even closer. You look up at him with your chin on his chest and the smuggest look one can form when they are groggily awake.

"What?"

"I still need to check if it's really sugar or not."

Oh.

Is he thinking what you think he is thinking?

You wanna laugh.

"Uh huh. Taste it?" you cautiously suggest.

"Sure."

You anticipate his next move with your lips pursed to stop you from laughing out loud as you watch him open the jar with one hand and dip his finger inside it. A smile breaks out on your features at his antiques – especially when he slowly brings the finger to his lips slowly, as if trying to make you feel some way. But all you do is find it funny.

"Jihoon what are you-"

"Shhh." you are shushed with a finger at your lips.

That finger at your lips and that's when you realize.

His lips land on your slowly, painfully slow. But the moment the softness touches you, your body wakes up and you feel the heat shoot up from your toes to your head, the blush spreading across your face. His hand moves behind your head and he brings you closer as he starts moving his lips against yours, savoring every flavor, breath and grain of sugar he just smeared across them. His fingers card through your hair and hold you tightly, making your toes curl with the intensity.

Your heart catapults it's way out of your chest and soars through the clouds, making you feel like a giddy teenager all over again.

God, the effect he had on you.

But alas, even your heart is not immune to gravity, and it needs to be grounded when he breaks the kiss, both of you gasping for air.

He nudges your nose with his, with a smile and licks his lips.

"It is sugar indeed."

So. Very. Sweet.

----

© angelwoozi.

-- feedback of any kind will be appreciated :D

[btsficsandsuch]

Okay love how An Ungodly Dream started!!!

Thank you for taking my request into consideration, I love it, of course I would like a little more angsty part, you can take as much time as you like, I'm in no hurry and neither should you💜💜

Here’s part 2! This one gets pretty angsty. Warning: Mentions of demons/demon activity, Death, Also gets suggestive. PART 1 HERE

An Ungodly Dream

Even if you had 1,000 chances to guess how you’d be spending a Thursday night you never would’ve guessed sitting in your living room talking to a demon but here you are. “Soooo Yoongi, were you born a demon or how did this happen?”, you asked unsure if that was even okay to ask but you weren’t sure about boundaries when it came to demons. He chuckled, “It’s kind of a long story but no I wasn’t born a demon. I actually signed a contract with this guy and in exchange for him doing something for me I agreed to become one his servants.” You nodded unsure of what your next question should be.

Yoongi could tell that you had a lot more on your mind. He began, “Look Y/N there’s a lot about this you’ll never understand but I’ll try to make it as simple as I can. About six years ago I was really in love with this girl. She was my everything. One day she passed out at home and after they ran some tests in the emergency room they told us she had incurable brain cancer and was given three months to live. I was devastated and I knew I’d do anything to not loose her.” He ran his hands over his face and sighed. This story was clearly hard for him to tell but he continued anyways, “One night shortly after that, I went to a bar to try and drink away the pain. While there I met a man who told me his name was Jin. He said he could take away any pain in the world in exchange for something small. He had my attention so I followed him to a back room. He pulled out a piece of paper that I didn’t really understand but at the time I didn’t really care. He basically said he would heal my girlfriend so that she’d be cancer free and all I had to do was agree to work for him. In my drunken grieving state I didn’t even ask any questions, not even how he knew about the cancer when I never even told him that. I signed the paper and before I could say anything else he was gone. Well a week goes by and I assume it must’ve just been a drunken dream because nothing has happened. Then we go to my girlfriends appointment and there are like nine doctors from all over the world. One of them pulls up her brain scan from the day before and tells us how the cancer is completely gone. They’ve never seen anything like it before and it’s a medical miracle that she was cancer free. I was ecstatic. The love of my life was healed and no longer weeks from death. I didn’t even think about the contract that I signed. So a couple weeks go by and I come home from work and hear a strange sound coming from the bedroom. I gently pushed opened the door and saw my girlfriend in bed with another guy. When I confronted them she told me that she had a new lease on life or some bullshit like that and didn’t want to be tied down to one person any more. So I packed a bag and went back to the bar to drink away the heartbreak. That’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder and saw Jin standing there. He told me how he had held up his end of the contract and now it was my turn. So I’ve spent the last six years doing his bidding all for a girl who in the end didn’t even love me and I have no way out of it.”

You were speechless. Yoongi’s eyes didn’t move from the the coffee cup on the table in front of him. After some time you reached out and grabbed his hand, “I’m really sorry that happened to you Yoongi. I really am.” He gave you a small smile. “Any other questions?”, he asked trying to change the subject. “Um yeah a ton but I don’t even really know where to begin. What kind of things do you normally do for this Jin guy? Is there anyway for you to break the contract? Maybe a lawyer or something?” Yoongi chuckled at that, “Do you really think there are lawyers that specialize in demon contracts? No there’s no way out. Either fulfill the contract or cease to exist basically. As far as what I do. I do a little bit of everything. I’m a master of all trades.” There was that cockiness again that you hated but also kind of found attractive. He continued, “It depends on why I was summoned or what Jin had planned for me. Sometimes I’ll make deals with people and have them sign contracts to lure them in. Sometimes I’ll be an incubus if that’s what is requested of me.” You cleared your throat unsure if you want to ask your next question or if you’re just scared of the answer. You forgot that he can read minds but he answers before you can even ask. “I only physically hurt people if I’m commanded to by Jin. He’s like my boss. It’s rare for that to happen though. He mostly only cares about getting people to sign away their lives. The more contracts he has the more powerful he is.”

You nodded in acceptance of his answer feeling a little better. You had so many more questions but decided that it was late and he had opened up enough for the night. “So do you sleep or how does this work?”, you asked unsure of yourself. Yoongi smiled, “I can sleep. I don’t have to but sometimes it’s nice to just relax and pretend to be fully human again.” You awkwardly chuckled being reminded that this beautiful man in front of you was not actually human any more. “Go to sleep Y/N. I’ll be alright out here. We still have a lot to discuss tomorrow.”, he smiled over at you. You nodded and began walking back to your bedroom before turning around, “Goodnight Yoongi.” He smiled back at you, “Goodnight Y/N.”

Somehow you managed to fall asleep for a few hours before your alarm went off signaling you it was time to get ready for work. You quickly showered and changed eager to find out what your new demon roommate was up to. You weren’t expecting to walk into the kitchen and find a large breakfast prepared for you including pancakes, blueberry muffins, an omelette, and fresh squeezed orange juice and hot coffee. “Morning sleepyhead”, Yoongi smiled before handing you a mug. “I didn’t know you could cook.”, you said happily taking some coffee. “I used to be human or did you forget already.”, he laughed. You rolled your eyes, “No I didn’t forget. I just didn’t ever expect demons to be this nice. You know, usually they’re more demon-ish.” Yoongi smirked as he sat down next to you taking a bite of a muffin. “Not all demons are like that. Of course there are ‘bad’ demons but a lot of them are like me. We’re just trying to survive after making the choices that we did.”, he said taking a sip of juice. You nodded and silently ate your breakfast.

Yoongi told you to leave the dishes as he’d do them later since he had nothing else to do. You reluctantly agreed before grabbing your purse. “When I get back from work we can talk some more.”, you told him. He nodded before walking you to the door. “Oh and there might be some chicken in the fridge. You know in case you wanted to whip up something for dinner later.”, you said and he chuckled taking your hint. “Yes Dear. Anything else?”, he asked. You shook your head before saying a quick goodbye and closing the door behind you.

The day went by surprisingly quick. It probably had to do with the fact that you couldn’t wait to get home to see Yoongi. Somehow you found yourself actually kind of missing him. So once 5:00pm hit you found yourself rushing home quickly kicking off your shoes by the door and walking into the kitchen greeting Yoongi who was hard at work putting the finishing touches on dinner. “I hope you like it. It’s been a while since I cooked like this.”, he said shyly. “It looks amazing plus anything is better than what I would’ve been able to make.”, you chuckled. Taking a bite of the food you smiled. “It’s so good Yoongi. You’d really make a good husband one day.”, you said not noticing his shoulders drop at the compliment. The two of you ate in silence and then you washed the dishes with Yoongi’s help because he insisted. After you changed into some comfy clothes you met Yoongi who was already sitting on the couch mindlessly watching something on the tv. When he saw you walk in he shut it off, “I’m guessing you want to talk about some things.”

You nodded, “Yeah we probably should.” There was a long silence until you spoke, “How do I release you back since I summoned you on accident?” He bit his lip, “Well there are three ways to do that. The first being that I complete a task for you, it would be the reason you summoned me to begin with. The second is to have you sign a contract and you basically become one of us. The third is we have to wait for the next full moon and on that day we would follow the guidelines in that book you were reading. Looking at our options we’ll probably have to go with the third one.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, “I mean we could look at the other options. I know I didn’t intend to summon you but my boss has been a real jerk lately so maybe I can have you go mess with him a little. You know slam some doors. Open all of his kitchen cabinets in the middle of the night.” He laughed, “Y/N I’m a demon. Not a poltergeist. You’ve said it yourself that you didn’t mean to summon me. And there’s no way I’m letting you sign any contract so our only option is number three.”

Nodding in agreement you got up and retrieved the book from your room turning to the chapter on demons. Yoongi helped you flip through the pages before finding what he was looking for, “There that’s it.” You began reading through the pages wanting to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all but at this point nothing shocks you anymore. You checked your phone, “Okay the next full moon is in three weeks.”, you said. “Okay then I guess we’re gonna get to know each other.”, Yoongi smiled. You wanted to say something sarcastic but deep down you felt your heart flutter at the thought.

The two of you spent the following week acting like an old married couple. You’d bicker about minor things only to return back to normal shortly after. He cooked you breakfast and dinner every day and even packed your lunch a couple days. The two of you ended up cuddling on the couch one night after falling asleep leading to you both waking up feeling awkward and confused.

Thankfully it was the weekend so you were able to get to spend more time with each other. It was Saturday evening and the two of you had decided to go out to dinner. Admittedly you maybe put a little more effort into your outfit than you needed to but it was worth it when you walked out and saw Yoongi checking you out. “You look very nice this evening.”, he said offering you his arm to hold onto. “Thank you. You clean up nice yourself.”, you responded. Since the weather was so nice and the restaurant wasn’t too far the two of you decided to walk. As you passed a group of guys standing against a wall Yoongi protectively put himself between you and the men while keeping his arm left arm around your waist. Just as you walked by them Yoongi suddenly stopped and whipped his head around to glare at one of the men wearing a blue baseball cap. “Weren’t you ever taught to respect women asshole? She’s not a toy for you to use as you please.”, he spat. Yoongi grabbed your hand and quickly pulled you away from the men before you could even question him but you assumed the guy had thought something provocatively about you and Yoongi heard his thoughts. You felt a smile creep up at the thought that he felt the need to defend you like that.

Dinner was one of the best nights you’d ever had. Yoongi had lots of stories about things he had done and seen. You listened very closely taking it all in. After dinner the two of you made your way back to your apartment and once inside you let your feelings overtake your brain. The alcohol from dinner probably didn’t help but you instinctively wrapped your hands around Yoongi’s neck pulling him closer to you and placing a kiss on his lips. You waited to see if he’d push you away. When he didn’t you pulled him in again and deepened the kiss. Then you moved to his dress shirt and you started unbuttoning it one by one as Yoongi removed the sweater you were wearing over your strapless dress.

The two of you made your way to your bedroom where Yoongi pushed you down onto your bed before going in for another kiss. The kisses went back and forth moving from your lips to various parts of your body. In-between kisses you managed a whispered, “Yoongi.” Not stopping he mumbled something which you took him as acknowledging you. You placed another kiss to his lips before speaking, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

You weren’t sure what you expected. Hopefully for him reciprocate the feelings. At the worst just ignore you and pretend he didn’t hear you. What you didn’t expect was for him to jump back like something had just bit him. “Yoongi what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”, you asked concerned. “We can’t do this Y/N. There can’t be anything between us. We’re not the same and I’m not going to risk you being dragged down with me.”, he said quickly buttoning back up his shirt. “Yoongi I don’t understand. Everything has been so good between us. We can figure something out.”, you said reaching for him. He shook his head taking a step back from you, “No Y/N. It’s not like a long distance relationship or something. This is serious. There are things you just don’t understand. I ruined my life and I have to pay that price. I won’t let that also hurt you.” “Yoongi please. Help me understand. I’ll do what it takes to be with you.”, you cried. You watched at Yoongi opened your bedroom door. He turned around to look at you, “No Y/N. I won’t let you do that. I’m gonna stay in the spare room until the full moon is here and we can follow the protocol to release me. Just stay away from me until then. It’s for your own good.”

With that he walked out and shut the door behind him. You heard the faint click of the door to the spare room shut next to you. Sitting on the bed you began to sob into your pillow. You knew he was right. He was a demon after all and you seemed to forget that little detail. But even after you reminded yourself of that you still couldn’t help but feel your heart breaking at the fact that the man you loved was in the room next to yours but you were never going to be able to have him. Unless maybe you signed a contract of your own…

[heartfullofleeches]

Anon Asked: [Rookie cop and Spencer during his gang leader days- I need Spencer getting "caught" by rookie and flirting while getting handcuffed for the 10th time. I'm split whether I want an exasperated or oblivious thembo reader.]

(Reader is a bit of both. Brief blood mentions)

-

A disturbance call comes in.

It isn't from dispatch. It's not even from your radio. The call comes in directly from your phone from a number you know well by now. You could write a detailed map to the location right on the napkin carelessly cascaded on the top of your food. The mall on the otherside of town.

If you hurried, maybe you could finish your lunch on the way to the subject's house.

-

Pulling up to the scene, the subject sits on the curb outside the mall with his hands folded and eyes scanning the parking lot. He fixes his collar and scrapes specks of dried blood off his face as your patrol car rolls over the speed bump leading into the lot and rolls up to the curb. The security guard watching over him gives him the side eye, which only makes him smile more.

"This is the last time I'm doing this for you."

"You always say that, but I'm feelin a little lucky today."

You step out of the vehicle and approach the two. Spencer lights up like a Christmas tree despite the swelling on his left cheek.

"Well look who it is. The officer who sent in applications to the wrong place, when that pretty face could be on posters. What brings you to our part of town?"

You turn your focus to the guard. "What happened this time?"

"Same as usual. Fight broke out, other guys got away. This moron sat down in the food court and ordered a corndog before we pieced two and two together."

"Got you one too, but they wouldn't let me bring it with me. How about a movie this weekend to make up for it?"

"Got it. I assume the cameras are still out and there were few witnesses?"

"Like I said."

"Alright. I'll just take him home for now then. Next time would you just ban him or something?" You snag your cuffs from your belt and look over to Spencer. "Gonna make a run for it this time?"

He holds out his wrists. "Nah. I want spend as much time with you as I can, plus you have good taste in jewelry."

You help him to his feet and cuff his hands behind his back. As he stands, Spencer makes sure to slide up close to you as he can, damn near stealing each breath you exhale as his chest collided with your vest. You pay no mind as his head fall on your shoulder while you work on the restraints, having some difficulty due to not making him turn around. Why you did things that way is beyond you.

You walk him over to your car and put him in the back. Spencer's jovial expression tumbles as you head up front. "I can't join you up there?"

"Quiet." You pull out of the parking lot and back onto the main road, signal lights kept off as you head in the direction of his father's house. Hearing movement across the leather seats, you can feel his eyes drilling holes in the back of your head. That was his favorite thing to do with you. Stare. The first time you met he studied you for what felt like days, likely deciding on whether he'd throw the brick in his hand at you, or unbeknownst to you - if he had just fallen in love.

It makes you wonder how many slaps on the wrist you had given him. His sob stories about home and the good he was capable of always lead you to listening to your moral code rather than law's.Sure you were close in age, but you had so much more responsibility than him and he was still under your protection despite the trouble he's caused.

"I got a new address you can drop me off for next time. Just signed a lease for an apartment near dad's place. You looking to move anytime soon?"

You look at his bloody close from the mirror. "Are you hurt?"

Spencer's heartrate increases. Finally. "Didn't hear you properly, officer."

"Are. You. Hurt."

He bites the wall of his cheek. "Definitely."

You take a detour on a side road and reach into the glove compartment. Retrieving the first aid kit stashed away, you round to the back of the car and kneel to take care of Spencer's wounds as you open the door and he slides forward. His lip is split, mouth bloody, and the bruise on his cheek purplish. You dab some alchohol on some swabs and take his chin your head. The blood rushes to his head and other extremities.

"You're so reckless.." You gently pat his broken lip with the cotton. Spencer doesn't flinch from the burn. In fact, the sting makes the experience more thrilling. A small jolt of electricity to the already electrified hunger in his chest. Seeing his own blood on the swabs and the bloody fluid rolling onto your fingers has him fantasizing about just about gorgeous you'd look covered head to toe in it. Clean his wounds with your tongue and show off that stunning smile with red stained teeth. Settle down - common sense warns. He can't be getting so excited and you haven't had your first date yet.

You patch up his outer injuries with bandages and restart the commune to his house. You uncuff him and wait for him to walk up to the porch, but his lingering eyes tell you that he wants you to come with. Spencer wants to spend you off with a hug, a kiss - the keys to his heart and all his mortal possessions, but he settles for a handshake to be polite.

"Its been a pleasure, Y/n. I'd said I hope we could see each other in different situations and maybe in each others bedroom, but that's more of a promise."

"Right. I suppose be nice to see you anywhere other than the back of my car." Bye, Spencer."

You return to your car and turn on the radio as you climb behind the wheel, but something in your back pocket keeps you from sitting comfortably. It's a golden watch, a bee engraved on its frame. The horrible realization weights on you as a real call phones in. The fight wasn't just an excuse to see you -

It was only a distraction.

[irismoon94]

insufferably yours

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: In which you hate your roommate, Eddie Munson, and he seems to have it out for you.

Which fucking sucks since you're snowed in together during a sudden blizzard.

It can't be that bad though, can it?

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings: Smut, 18+, minors DNI! enemies to lovers, rough sex, dubcon fantasy, mild bloodplay, mild cumplay, explicit language, face slapping, biting, scratching, pet names, femdom with a bit of switching.

A/N: I’m trying to work on a Kas!Eddie fic, but she a big bitch and this idea wormed it’s way into my little head after my friend came up with the prompt. My first little foray into enemies to lovers and tbh I really enjoyed it.

Part two | Part three chapter one | Part three chapter two coming soon

Masterlist of my other works

——

You hated each other. There was no way around it. But your lease wasn’t up for another eight months, and subleasing was not something you could manage right now, so you fucking dealt with him and his fucking bullshit.

You dealt with the stink of weed that seemed to radiate from his room no matter how much air freshener you sprayed in the hallway to try and keep it at bay. You dealt with the heavy metal music he played at a volume level that wouldn’t get him kicked out but was still loud enough to grate at your nerves while you were trying to sleep and his insomnia was keeping him up at ungodly hours. You dealt with his snarky fucking attitude he seemed to wear like one of his band tees, abrasive and off putting, whenever you had the misfortune of having to talk to him about rent or chores, or the occasional suggestion that he wear the headphones that he literally had resting on top of his piece of junk tape deck and never seemed to use.

You dealt with all of Eddie’s stupid fucking habits and character traits that made you want to pull out your hair at any given moment, and you were counting down the days until you were able to move out and into your own place that you were desperately saving up for.

But today, he was well and truly testing the limits of your patience and it was beginning to feel like he was doing it intentionally. Like he blamed you for the sudden blizzard that had snowed in Indy for the past couple of days, and it was your fault that the two of you were forced to be in proximity to each other until it blew over. That damned music thudded through the wall you shared, and every time he left his room, he would leave his door open so it sounded just a bit louder until he returned and slammed the door closed again.

You tried to be cordial at first, knocking on his door and asking in a polite but loud voice to turn it down a bit so you could try and at least focus on your biology paper while there wasn’t much else to do, but whether or not he heard your request, he didn’t oblige and his music remained at the same volume. You’d scoffed and smacked the door angrily before heading back to your room and doing what he refused to do instead, popping a cassette into your walkman and pulling on your headphones to try and block out the noise in the meantime. Turning up the volume as loud as you could bear and cover the background noise, you got to work on your essay.

———

Two hours later, after explaining three of the seven stages of mitosis, you could feel the start of a headache beginning to squeeze behind your eyes and you took it as a sign that you needed a break. Mindful of the cords, you leaned back in your chair and reached your arms above your head in a stretch before pulling the headphones down to hang around your neck. You rolled your eyes when you heard the music coming from Eddie’s room was still just as loud as it had been since that morning. Changing out the cassette tape and replacing your headphones over your ears, you ventured out to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and some Excedrin to try and knock out the headache before it could grow into a migraine.

Popping the white pills and chasing it with a generous swallow of icy water, you leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment to glare at Eddie’s door, trying to think of an idea of how to secretly get back at your roommate for being such a massive dick while the two of you were trapped in your apartment. Your plans were interrupted when his door suddenly swung open to reveal him glaring at a notebook with such intensity, you couldn’t help but wonder what could possibly be on its pages that made him look so frustrated. He drifted forward, doing a double take when he noticed you occupying the kitchen already, watching him suspiciously. He gave a small smirk before clapping the notebook shut and saying something that you weren’t able to hear over Billy Idol’s Eyes Without a Face.

“Wait, hold on, a second, Jesus.”, you said, tugging your headphones around your neck again irritatedly before asking him, “Now what did you say, Munson?”

“I said, ‘What, you don’t like Black Sabbath or something, Princess?’”, he repeated, smirk widening at your visible distaste for the pet name he’d given you after one of your first disagreements.

“Don’t really care who you’re listening to, but it’s a little frustrating when it’s so loud I can’t even hear myself think, Munson. Some of us have things to do that require the utmost concentration, something that is difficult to achieve when their walls are shaking.”, you said with sneer. “I still don’t understand how we’ve yet to receive any noise complaints from the neighbors.”

“Careful room selection.”, he replied, smugly.

“Huh?”, you asked, not caring to hide your confusion at his vague statement.

“Careful. Room. Selection.”, he repeated, punctuating each word like you were stupid, earning himself a sharp glare before explaining further. “It’s not that difficult, Princess. We have a corner apartment, and my room is in said corner, with plenty of buffer space between it and the walls we share with the neighbors.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief.

“Did you seriously just call my room ‘buffer space’, you fucking moron?”, you spat incredulously.

Instead of answering, Eddie merely tilted his head up so he was looking down his nose at you, the shit eating look on his face only growing increasingly more arrogant.

The urge to say something particularly hateful rose in your mind, but you quickly clamped your mouth closed and stared him down instead. You’d already given him more than enough satisfaction at the knowledge that he’d successfully gotten under your skin so easily, and you weren’t about to give him anymore. His brand of emotional terrorism combined with the throbbing in your skull was a potent mixture that had your blood boiling to the point of you considering physical violence as well, so you gave him a tight lipped smile before skirting past him and back into your room.

Slamming your door, you threw yourself onto your bed and grabbed a pillow, shoving your face into it before letting out a muffled, frustrated scream that left your throat a little ragged. It helped soothe your nerves a bit, but your head pulsated painfully as well, sapping you of the energy to remain as mad as you’d been just a few moments ago. Rolling over onto your back, you stared up at the ceiling as you heard Eddie return to his own room as well, his door closing more gently than yours had.

To your surprise and begrudging appreciation, you heard the song that had been playing lower in volume, though not by much. But it was enough to make it so you could listen to your own music at a more tolerable level as well. Deciding a nap was needed to quell the budding migraine making its home in your temple, you switched off your lamps and pulled your curtains closed against the watery winter light before settling under your covers and closing your eyes as Andante, Andante started to play softly in your ears.

———

A few hours later, you woke up in a haze, feeling heavy and warm under your blankets, and delighted to find the headache gone as your consciousness slowly returned to you. You quickly realized your headphones had gone askew on your head when you heard the increasingly familiar bass line of Holy Diver coming through the walls. You let out a heavy sigh, but resigned yourself to deal with it, since out of all of Eddie’s band preferences, Dio was the most tolerable.

Snuggling further into your blankets, you hummed at the pleasant cocoon of warmth around you, more than complacent to remain in it for a while yet and maybe even doze off again should sleep come over you again. Certainly wouldn't hurt with odd hours Eddie had been keeping anyways, you being an unwilling victim of his sleeplessness as well.

A spark of irritation ignited in you at the realization that your roommate was beginning to occupy your thoughts more often than you'd prefer as of late, making your cheeks warm in exasperation. It was annoying if you were honest with yourself, that of all the men in your life, Eddie Munson, douchebag extraordinaire, was the one you were thinking about on a frequent enough basis that you should probably consider it a problem.

Not that you thought about him in that way. Well. Maybe a couple times. But only when you’d been wine drunk and alone because he was out of the apartment playing with his band or playing that dumb tabletop game that you overheard him talk about on the phone with his friends when they were planning a game night. But that was besides the point, because you hate him, and even you were allowed to have a couple lapses of judgment from time to time.

The couple of fantasies you’d had were more out of desire to put him in place, maybe humiliate him a little while you took physical and emotional satisfaction from it. It wouldn’t be nice, it would be mean and rough, and it would probably leave you both bruised and maybe a little bloody.

The thought made you shiver.

It only took you a second to decide that his music was still loud enough before you were sliding your hand under your sweatpants and underwear to where a different sort of ache had begun to grow in you. You found yourself already a little wet when your fingers slipped between your folds, the contact making you gasp quietly and your thighs clench around your hand as you spread your slick around your clit. Using your two middle fingers, you drew tight circles around the bundle of nerves, little jolts of pleasure running through your limbs. You closed your eyes and sighed as you continued the motions, imagining dark eyes framed by dark waves watching you, that arrogant smirk plastered on his stupidly pretty mouth, making you bite back a moan.

“Fucking-hah-hate you, Eddie. Hate you-mmmn-so much.”, you murmured with a shuddering breath, your body already starting to go taut as you saw him laugh at you darkly behind your eyelids.

You could feel how soaked your fingers were becoming so quickly, and it only urged your frustrations on further, amping up your need for release as well. Pressing your fingers into yourself, you used your other hand to grab at your tit, lifting your shirt and squeezing it, pinching the nipple roughly as you continued to fantasize about his searing gaze on you while he watched you fuck yourself out of loathing for him. It was so fucking wrong, but, God, if it didn’t make you hotter than you’ve ever felt before.

The reverie continued on, the scene changing into one where you had him cuffed to your headboard with the pair of handcuffs you’d spotted on more than one occasion when you’d managed a peek inside when his door was open. He was glaring up at you while you straddled him, silent fury pouring off of him in waves since you’d duct taped his mouth shut as well.

“Silence suits you so well, Eddie.”, you purred at him, rubbing your thumb across the smooth silver tape gag. “Should have done this ages ago.”

You could practically hear the fuck you he was no doubt screaming at you internally. It only spurred you on further. Fisting his shirt in both of your hands, you pulled them apart quickly, the soft fabric ripping until the pale skin of his chest was revealed, the dark ink of his tattoos stark against his flesh. A muffled sound of protest sounded in his throat at the destruction of his tee, making you grin down at him triumphantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you like this shirt? Should have spoken up sooner, I guess, huh?”, you taunted as you pulled the shredded article apart to further expose his torso.

Starting at his navel, you dragged a light finger tip up his stomach and chest before laying your hand over his heart, feeling the quickened beats thump up against your palm. You raised your brows at him suggestively before you dug your nails into his skin and raked them down his chest, leaving angry red welts along the way, one of them with his nipple in path.

He gave another muffled shout as he uselessly tried to pull back from the assault, his chest caving in slightly while his shoulders pulled towards his ears, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. You giggled, leaning down and licking the salt from his cheeks while you rolled your hips against him, feeling how his own canted up slightly to meet yours.

“Ohhh, did pretty boy like that?”, you cooed down at him, noting the way his eyes glinted dangerously, anger still darkening their depths, but a hint of lust swirling around in them as well. “What do you think, sweetheart? If I took off your gag, would you beg me for it, I wonder?”

Outside of the fantasy, you released your nipple and reached towards your nightstand, pulling open the drawer to retrieve your dildo as your orgasm hovered just out of reach, the need to be filled prompting the use of your toy. You were a slave to your lust in this moment, your focus so entirely on your pleasure that you didn’t hear the door down the hall open again as a slutty moan escaped your lips while you teased your clit with the soft silicone.

Your imagination saw you caressing Eddie’s face in a facsimile of affection before you were pinching his cheeks between your fingers so you could hold him in place as you ground yourself against the growingly evident hard on pressing against your clothed cunt.

“What about it, Eddie? Do you want to feel what it’s like to be inside me? You wanna know how good it’ll feel to be buried inside me while I ride you until I come? But not you, you won’t be allowed to come until I say so, yeah?”

You watched as his expression of hatred grew colder for a few beats before it wavered just a fraction as he considered your offer, giving you all the indication you needed to know his resolve had crumbled enough to give him the chance to speak for himself. Grabbing the edge of the tape, you peeled it ever so slightly up, pulling it little by little until the corner of his mouth appeared, the line of it downturned in a soft grimace. You were gentle in your removal of the gag, or you were until you reached the middle of those plush lips and then you ripped the rest of it off in one quick movement, earning a sharp hiss from between bared teeth.

“MotherFUCKER!”, Eddie snarled, blood beginning to rise to the places where the tape had ripped the tender skin of his lips. “What the hell-”

Before he could hurl anymore profanities at you, you dove in for a taste of the crimson, sucking his bottom lips between yours and pulling it taut between your teeth as iron and salt flooded your tastebuds. His hips bucked under yours again, making you grin as you sat back on his lap with his blood coating your mouth like lipstick. You licked them clean while his eyes turned nearly black as they bored into yours.

“Alright Eds, either you can be quiet and obedient, or I can tape your mouth back up, okay? So what’s it gonna be? You gonna be a good little boy for me? Or do I need to punish you some more?”

His mouth opened for a beat before he closed it again, finally understanding his choices were slim.

“Mmm, that is a good boy. Though if I’m honest, I was hoping I might get to punish you a little more. Oh well, the day’s not over yet, is it?”, you bemoaned, sliding off of his lap and onto his shins, the feeling of his eyes on you as you unbuttoned his jeans. “Now then, let's see what we’re working with, huh?”

You had no idea what Eddie’s dick actually looked like, but something about his tall and lanky stature certainly translated to your imagined idea of what it might look like. Long with average girth, uncircumcised with a head as pretty of a red as his lips were when they were all flushed. Free of his boxers, it bobbed in front of your face before it lay twitching on his stomach, eager to be touched. It was enough to make your mouth water as you took in the sight of his nearly completely bare under you, as desperate for you fuck him as he was to hurt you for humiliating you. Leaning towards it, you blew on it softly, making it jerk upwards in response. You heard the stifled groan he bit back, not entirely willing yet to let you see exactly how much you were affecting him.

Crawling back over top of him, you shimmied off your panties, your shirt remaining so as to not give him any more satisfaction than he would be getting from you using him for your own pleasure. He was lucky you were even using him to begin with. Reaching between you, you grasped his cock, smearing the precome that had beaded at the tip around the head before rubbing your cunt against it to further lubricate it. Satisfied with your work, you glanced back up at him, smiling poisonously at how he stared at you greedily.

“Look at you, so hungry for it, aren’t you?”, you taunted before lowering yourself onto him, the length of him slowly engulfed in the clutch of your sex.

“Oh fuck.”, you moaned, pushing the soaked dildo into your pussy as you pictured Eddie’s bottoming out inside you. “Fucking hell, Eddie.”

“Well, well, well, what do we have, huh, Princess?”, a voice asked, cutting through your thoughts like a razor sharp knife.

Red hot shame seared through you as your eyes snapped open to find Eddie staring at you with a mix of surprise and entertainment on his face, his arms crossed as he leaned his shoulder against your door frame. Your cheeks flamed in shame and anger as well, as you held your blanket to your chest and sat up, flinging your pillow at his head. He blocked easily against it, holding up an arm and knocking it to the floor with a small cackle.

“Ed- Munson, what the fuck?! What are you doing just barging in here like that? Ever heard of knocking?”, you screeched at him, pulling your shirt back over your tits and glaring daggers at him, hoping they might become tangible and actually kill him.

He rolled his eyes hard, taking a few steps further into your room with a sardonic smile.

“Oh, cut the shit, sweetheart. I’m not the one who was moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear with their door unlocked for anyone to walk in. And by the sounds of it, I think you might have been hoping for a certain roommate of yours to find you with your hands down your pants.”, he goaded, moving even closer to you until he was just a few feet away from your bed.

You seethed at him, grabbing your other pillow to hurl at him, but he was quicker than you, reaching out and grabbing your wrist before you could manage the throw. His smile was all teeth, the dark glint in his eyes going straight to your traitorous cunt. You swallowed hard as those chocolate orbs seemed to pin you in place.

“Hey now, no more of that, okay, Princess? If you want to fuck me, all you gotta do is ask, you know. We’re both adults, you don’t have to pretend with me”, he said, his words feeling slimy against your skin.

“Why fuck would I want to have to have sex with you? I wasn't moaning your name, you egotistical prick. If anything, you’re the one who wants fuck me, since you imagined your name coming out of my mouth in any capacity close to desire. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you stare at me when you think I’m not paying attention.”

“And so what if I have, hm? Hard not to when you’re prancing around in those little shorts in the summer, acting like you’re hot shit or something. But I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, okay? You’re only pretty when that smart mouth of yours is closed. Once it opens, bullshit comes out and you lose almost all the attractiveness you might have held.”, Eddie snorted.

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears, loud and fast, and before you could stop yourself, your free hand shot up and slapped him across the face. His head turned with the impact, the imprint already reddening his cheek as your chest heaved with barely restrained rage. It took him a moment to react, his face a mask of faint surprise until his eyes flicked back to you and a terrible smile began to take shape upon his lips. You shrank back a fraction at the headiness of it, unexpectedly fearful of what it actually meant.

“Do it again, sweetheart.”, he murmured, turning his face to look at you full on again.

Inhaling deeply, you pulled your other hand from his grip and wound it back before slapping the opposite cheek on the exhale of your breath, his head snapping from the force of it again. A quick glance downward confirmed your suspicions when you saw the crotch of his jeans beginning to strain under his growing erection. You swallowed again, looking back up to find hunger clouding his face, expression almost identical to how you’d imagined it in your fantasy but also darker and more vicious.

The tension between the two of you was palpable, thick and tight with unspoken weight that had you digging your fingers into your thighs until he was wrenching your wrists out of your lap and alongside your head, pinning you under him. Leaning down, he nosed at your cheek and scraped his teeth along your jaw, making you whine involuntarily.

“Mmmm, what a pretty sound. Maybe I was wrong, maybe not everything that comes out of your mouth is bullshit after all.”, he teased, looking down his nose at you as you glowered back.

“Fuck you.”, you retorted, your words having less bite than you’d intended.

He tilted his head and smirked.

“That is the idea, Princess. But I wanna hear you say it first. Need to hear you beg for me to fuck you.”, he cooed.

It was embarrassing how much your body was reacting to his. The role reversal should have just infuriated you further but instead it was riling your lust further. You fought to maintain your wits, but the need for release was quickly overcoming any sense you might have had prior to his body heat and smokey scent enveloping you. Chewing on your bottom lip, you tried to find the words to get him off of you and out of your room again, but then his knee was pressing between your legs and closer to where your aching cunt was begging for the attention he’d stolen from it.

A short lived inner conflict raged in your head before you were swallowing your pride for the moment and nodding at him. Taking another breath you gave your answer.

“…Please, Eddie. I-I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me.”, you conceded, voice still more than a little petulant but still agreement enough to set him to work.

“Not exactly begging, but I guess that might be the best I’ll get from you, huh, Princess?”, he said, pulling your wrists together to hold them in one hand to free the other to explore your body.

Lazily, he trailed it down your neck and chest, pulling the blanket down and pausing to give your tit an experimental squeeze, tugging the nipple when it peaked through the fabric of your shirt. Another reluctant noise escaped your lips at the sensation, prompting him to continue his hand’s travels down your torso and underneath the blanket to the waistband of your sweatpants. His knee retreated enough to make room as his hand dipped into your panties, cupping your cunt roughly.

“Wow, all this for little ole me, huh?”, he said, sliding a finger between your soaked folds lightly.

You knocked your head back against your pillow in frustration before pushing yourself up as much as your pinned arms would allow so you were in his face.

“Enough with the teasing, Munson. Foreplay isn’t necessary when I’ve done all the hard work for you already. Besides the dildo I was using before you interrupted is no doubt more than ample for whatever pencil dick situation you’ve got going on anyways.”, you hissed, trying to provoke his ire with a well placed jab that you were beginning to suspect was inaccurate based on the way his jeans were tented despite their tightness.

He was bigger than your previous estimations, and the thought made your cunt clutch in worrisome anticipation.

But despite your attempt to agitate him, he just snickered and gave a faux pout.

“Oh, is the poor baby impatient? Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll give you what you want here shortly. But you gotta behave, okay? Want you to keep your hands to yourself while I get myself a little more comfortable. Can you do that for Daddy, Princess?”

You nearly gagged at the little pet names and how he called himself daddy. “You’re disgusting, Munson.”

“And yet here you are under me, begging for my cock.”, he shot back, letting go of your hands.

Sitting back on his knees, he yanked his long sleeve over his head and let it fall to the ground before moving onto his belt and pants, undoing them with practiced ease until he noticed you watching him with your hands folded over your chest.

“You can take your clothes off too, you know. Or are you shy?”, he said, looking down at your shift expectantly.

You scowled, hesitating for a moment before you grabbed the hem of it and shucked off the offending article.

“It’s a little fucking cold, you know.”, you groused as you covered your tits from the cool air again.

“I’ll warm you up in a second, Jesus. Really are such an impatient brat.”, he muttered, tossing the remainder of his clothes to the floor and giving you a peek at the rest of his body.

Surprise tugged your brows up when you found him to be carrying a bit more muscle than you’d anticipated. Not defined by any measure, but you could see a hidden strength in his arms and chest where you'd expected none. And when you finally caught sight of his dick, you might have gasped just a little.

It was gorgeous.

No other way around it. Thicker than you could have guessed, but not quite as long either. It was dark and heavy between his thighs, a tantalizing thatch of hair around it that thinned into a sparse happy trail that traveled to just under his navel. When you finally pulled your gaze from it, you found his eyes watching you with unrestrained glee at your surprise. Your scowl returned and he chuckled in response.

“What was that about a ‘pencil dick’ again?”, he teased, grabbing the edge of your blanket and pulling it down to expose your legs and relieve them of the pants and underwear you still wore.

“Oh please, I’ve had bigger.”, you lied, letting him further disrobe you until you were both completely bare and staring at each other unabashedly.

“Sure you have, Princess. Whatever you say.”

Swallowing thickly, you looked away and covered yourself as much as you could with your arms before complaining about the chill again. He lowered himself back on top of you, resting on one firearm before grabbing the blanket and pulling it over the two of you to trap in your combined body heat again.

“There, better, Princess?”, he asked.

“Not really, seeing as you haven’t made me cum yet.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking needy, you know that? I'm just trying to make sure you’re comfortable and you’re too busy complaining about every fucking thing.”, he spat, looking at you with such contempt that you could feel your blood begin to boil again in response.

Good, this is what you wanted. You wanted mean and angry and wrong. You hated him and you didn’t want him to be soft with you. Taking your chance, you grabbed his wrists and wrapped a leg around his waist, using the other to propel you up as you rolled him over so he was the one under you now, gaining the control you sought in the conversation.

He let out a sound of resistance, but you forced all your weight into pinning him, unwilling to give him an inch.

“This is what I wanted, Eddie. You’re right, I do want your cock, but only like this. With you under me, where you belong while I use you like a fucking toy as retribution for all the bullshit you put me through. The loud music, the snark, the disrespect. I don’t think I’ve asked for much as a roommate. In fact, I think I’m a fantastic fucking roommate, you should consider yourself lucky to have me as a roommate, but no, you act like an ass at every turn as thanks for putting up with you.”

He opened his mouth to no doubt say something stupid, but you quickly covered it and shook your head down at him.

“Ah, ah, ah. No talking. If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna shut up, lay there and take it while I use you and let you use me too, okay?”, you simpered, daring him to argue with you more.

But he remained silent, dark eyes fiery as they bored into yours. Smiling victoriously, you removed your hand from his mouth slowly and leaned back to straddle him.

“Good boy.”, you crooned, reaching between your bodies to line him up with your entrance.

You gave him a few good pumps for good measure before you slid down his length, the stretch delicious as he filled you completely, already twitching as soon as he was fully seated inside you.

Eddie sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth as you rolled your hips experimentally, his jaw tensing as you began to set a slow and steady pace. You couldn’t help but revel in how despite his glare, his hands clasped at his legs, obviously itching to grab your hips and meet your pace thrust for thrust. Unable to help yourself, you grabbed his wrists again pinning them on either side of his head like he’d done to you and using the leverage to lift your hips higher before slamming them back down, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing around your room lewdly.

Your faces were close in this position, and you took the opportunity to recreate the part of your fantasy where you tugged his lip between your teeth, letting your incisors sink into the plush of it and draw blood around them. It painted both of your mouths in scarlet and iron, and you lapped at it, enjoying his answering wince before his tongue was meeting yours to fight for dominance in the only way you’d let him. You drew back enough for a thread of blood and spit connected your mouths before breaking and landing on his flushed chest.

Licking your lips clean, you dipped back down and dragged your tongue through the pink spittle before you sucked a welt in its place, the mark as dark as the ink that decorated his skin just a few inches away. A heavy groan ripped out of him as his body bowed under you, hips jerking up as you inflicted a heady combination of pain and pleasure on his body as you nipped and sucked your way up his collarbones and neck. You didn’t need him to speak to know that he was thoroughly enjoying the roughness, and you were eager to really take it as far as you could, to leave your mark on him as a reminder for him not to fuck with you anymore.

“What’s the matter, Princess?”, you crooned, sitting back up on him to grind your hips into him, the friction pushing you further to the orgasm you’d been denied for too long already. “Is Daddy being too rough with you?”

Something seemed to snap in him at the names, his hand reaching up to grasp your neck and pull you back into a ferocious kiss that had your teeth clacking into each other as you fought for control once again. His other arm slid down your back to grab your ass and use the hold to rut into you ferociously, the head of his cock hitting the sweet spot deep inside you repeatedly while you gasped and moaned into his mouth.

“I fucking hate you.”, you growled, hands fisting into his hair and tugging hard as you licked into his mouth, the ghost of his blood still flavoring the kiss, along with the subtle hint of nicotine and smoke.

You were becoming wild for it, desperate for more. Desperate for him.

“I know you do.”, he panted against your lips, his irises nearly engulfing the browns of his eyes in their dark depths. “Come for me?”

You snarled at his request, your cunt clenching around him as it sent you closer to unraveling. You wanted to come so badly, ready for it to swallow you whole and set your body ablaze from the heat of it, but you were still set on it being on your own terms rather than his. Pulling away from his mouth again, you released your hold on his hair to wrap your hands around his throat instead, squeezing ever so tightly as you continued to bounce up and down on his dick. His hands found a new place to rest on your hips, fingernails digging into the soft flesh there as he watched you, suddenly enraptured with the way you exerted your control over him so easily.

It was almost disgusting the way he looked at you, almost worshipful in its intensity; but instead of repelling you, it merely spurred you on further, your grip on his neck tightening until his face began to turn red.

“You’re a fucking freak, you know that, Eds? Dirty little slut who’s letting me use you like the toy you are while I degrade you, and you’re getting off on it, are you? You can’t even deny it because I feel how close you are, even closer now that I’m choking you.”, you sneered, enjoying the way his eyes were beginning to cross. “Don’t go passing out on me yet, sweetheart, I’m close too, and I want you to watch.”

Letting go of his windpipe, you placed one hand on his chest for leverage as you reached between your legs to rub at your clit, chasing your climax. You heard cough and gasp as he sucked in the much needed air, and you laughed as you felt yourself reach the edge you’d been working towards. His hold on your hips tightened as your back arched, your orgasm slamming into you full force, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“Gonna come-”, he managed to grit out, prompting you to pull off of him just before thick ropes of cum spurted out of him and onto his stomach, his dick jumping as his orgasm tore through him.

You sat just next to him, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath while you appreciated the ravaged mess you’d left Eddie in; sweat and cum coating his torso while his lips remained red with drying blood. Leaning over, you swiped a finger through the white puddle settling above his navel, streaking it up his chest before popping the digit in your mouth for a taste. You stuck your tongue out in distaste at its flavor and wiped the rest off on your sheets, uncaring at the mess since you would undoubtedly be washing them as soon as you kicked Eddie out in a couple minutes. But you’d be nice and give him a chance to recover a little first before you did that.

Looking over at you, still trying to catch his breath, Eddie gave you a smile. Not a smirk, but a smile. You felt your cheeks redden at the sight before the scowl you reserved for him took back over your face. The smile widened and he chuckled, pulling himself up into a seated position, mirroring you.

“That was fun.”, he said breathlessly. “We should do that again sometime.”

It jarred you just as much as the smile still playing on his lips and you ducked your head, averting your gaze.

“Get out, Munson.”, you ordered, barely any heat behind the words.

He chuckled again, sliding to the edge of your bed, but pausing to press a soft kiss to your cheek before grabbing his clothes and heading to the door, just narrowly avoiding a smack to the head from you as he did.

“Though next time, we should do it in my room so we can be as loud as we want. Want to hear all the pretty sounds you can make.”, he teased, closing your door just in time before your pillow could hit him square in the face.

———

The next day, you’d awoke to knocking on the front door and the muffled sounds of voices before silence resumed. Wiping at your eyes, you pulled on a thick sweatshirt before heading into the kitchen, your throat scratchy from sleep and needing a drink of water to soothe it. Eddie was already in it, almost looking like he was waiting for you by the looks of the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth when he saw you enter. You narrowed your eyes at him before shooing him away from the fridge to pull out a bottle of water.

Taking a swig first, you sighed and asked, “Who was it?”

“The landlord. Said we got a couple noise complaints yesterday. Gave us a warning and said, and I quote ‘keep the feral cat sex sounds to a minimum’.”, he explained, barely contained laughter shaking his shoulders as you choked on your water, sputtering and trying to brush the cold liquid off your shirt before it could soak in too much.

“What. The. Fuck!’, you exclaimed, glowering at him as he finally busted out laughing, holding a hand up to defend against the blows you tried to rain down on him.

Strong hands grabbed your wrists and held them aloft as he smirked down at you, the fight going out of you as a different kind of heat filled your veins at the touch.

“I guess I’ll have to stop calling you Princess now, huh? Kitten sound much more fitting after seeing your claws come out yesterday.”, he taunted, leaning down so your faces were only inches apart.

It made your heart skip a beat.

God, you hated him so much.

[kasaneteto]

ok i need some opinions

so i had the talk with my roommate about not wanting to sign another lease with him. that’s all fine and good he understands why we can’t be roommates anymore but the problem is he doesn’t want to let me be the one to stay at this apartment because he claims he can afford to live here by himself. i don’t really believe him but its neither here nor there because i know i can only afford to live here if i rent with two other people.

my reasons for wanting to keep living here are: i can walk to work, its going to be really hard to find another place that allows TWO cats, my cats are CRAZY and this apartment is perfect for them (lots of windows for passive engagement + a loft area for them to get up in), i have a LOT of plants because the place gets a lot of natural light, to find another place that would support all of these plants will be difficult. & in addition to all of that - my name is on all of the utilities + the WiFi. because he is too irresponsible to take initiative with anything. in a worst case scenario I would be able to move back in with my parents, but that would mean moving to the country where i would be completely isolated and would have to quit my job.

his reasons for wanting to keep living here are: he was the one who found the apartment & he can afford to live here on his own, and he doesn’t want to move. if he has other reasons beyond those he hasn’t told me what they are.

ive known he was a selfish person for years. i mean ive completely given up on ever asking him for a favor because he acts so burdened by it, if he even is willing to do it at all. its my belief that his selfishness is a trauma response due to his upbringing, but yknow, i can only tell the guy he needs therapy so many times before i have to give up to save my own energy. but i can’t help but feel like i deserve this apartment way more than he does. im the one who’s been taking care of it and keeping it nice for us. im the only one of us who’s in any way responsible. so for him to be so hostile about me wanting to stay (he got really defensive about it) hurts me a lot. i want to believe that he’s a good friend but I don’t feel like a good friend would see me move out of an apartment that’s perfect for me just because the alternative would make his life harder. he hasn’t been a good friend for a while so why am i still pretending he is?

so should i tell him all of these feelings? im worried that its going to come across as emotional manipulation. because like… i can’t lie, my main reason for wanting to tell him all of this is so i can stay here and he’ll move out. its hard to not feel like a hypocrite calling him selfish when thats my deepest motivation. but its not my only motivation, i truly do believe that erik is unaware of this behavior of his and that he WANTS to be a good friend, and i wonder if me being honest with him is the wake-up call he needs in that regard? idk. i just want to be a good friend while also standing up for myself. its hard to navigate stuff like this.

so uh. should i tell him i think he’s being really selfish about this? and that ive noticed a pattern of selfish behavior in him? be honest if im being a dickhead about this too and should just give up the place to him like if thats he truth i wanna hear it. it would just kill me to see his irresponsible ass bite off more than he can chew and lose this place, esp since the rate we’re renting at is the 2021 housing rate like its gonna be SO much more expensive to find a place this nice in the current housing market 😭

[inanimatefan1]

Did not go as planned (Collage roommate Sneaker TF Story) PART 3 (a new Beginning)

Years have passed, and the pile of worn sneakers in the corner has grown considerably. One day, Tyler stands in front of his wardrobe, contemplating the mountain of shoes. "This is getting out of hand," he mutters to himself. He retrieves his football bag from the floor, still carrying the scent of countless practices, games, and locker rooms. He starts to fill it with the worn sneakers, and as I find myself being lifted and placed into the bag, a wave of nostalgia washes over me. I sense the presence of all the other sneakers, each with their own history, their own scent, their own connection to Tyler. Tyler zips up the bag and hoists it over his shoulder. "Time to give them a second life," he says, almost as if he's talking to us. For a moment, I wonder where we're going. A thrift store? A recycling center? Somewhere else? Either way, I find myself excited about this next chapter. The bag sways as Tyler walks, each step he takes a reminder of all the steps he's taken in each of us. Finally, Tyler stops walking. He unzips the bag and starts to pull us out one by one. It turns out he's at a local charity where worn but usable items are refurbished and given to those in need. As I get lifted out of the bag and placed into a new pile, I can't help but feel a sense of rebirth. I may no longer serve Tyler, but I can serve someone else, carry someone else's dreams and steps.

As I adjust to the new surroundings, Tyler turns to leave. "Take care of them. They've been good to me," he tells the volunteer, smiling. And just like that, he's gone, leaving me and the others behind for our second life. Yet even as he walks away, a part of him remains with each of us—memories woven into fabric, history imprinted onto soles. Even as I prepare for my new journey, I know I'll always be a part of Tyler's story, just as he will always be a part of mine.

As I'm placed on a workbench along with the other sneakers, I can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The charity staff really take their mission to heart, giving each of us worn-out sneakers a new lease on life. First comes the cleaning process. I've never experienced anything like it. Powerful yet gentle solvents wash away the accumulated grime, and brushes scrub into crevices I'd forgotten existed. I start to feel lighter, refreshed. The next stage is the polishing, and as I'm buffed and shined, I can see a transformation taking place. What were once signs of wear and age are now marks of character; I've gone from worn-out to vintage. Special equipment reinforces my weakened soles, patches up my frayed fabric, and revitalizes my faded colors. The smell of Tyler still lingers faintly within me, but it's now mixed with a clean, almost new aroma. One by one, each of us gets tagged and entered into the charity system, marked for a new chapter. And as I consider the future, I can't help but feel optimistic. We, all 20 pairs that once belonged to Tyler, will soon be gracing the feet of teenagers and young adults who turn to the charity for support. Each of us will become a part of new stories, new lives. As I'm placed on a shelf with other revitalized sneakers, waiting for someone to choose me, I find myself thinking about what comes next. Whose life will I be a part of? What new adventures await? While I'll always cherish my time with Tyler, I can't help but feel eager for what lies ahead.

Did not go as planned (Collage roommate Sneaker TF Story) PART 4 (Alex)

As Alex slips his foot into me, I immediately sense the difference between him and Tyler. Alex's socks are clearly worn, much more so than Tyler's ever were, and I can tell his family has had to prioritize other needs over new clothing. But as he laces me up, there's an unmistakable feeling of joy and satisfaction emanating from him. His mother watches, clearly relieved to find good-quality sneakers for her son at such a symbolic price. The staff at the charity store, seeing the family's genuine need, go the extra mile to make sure they have everything they need, from clothing to household items. All sold at minimal cost, giving the family a sense of ownership while still helping them in their time of need. "Mom, look, they fit perfectly!" Alex exclaims, taking a few steps to test me out. His mother smiles, her eyes shining with a mix of relief and gratitude.

"Looks like we've found your new sneakers," she says, confirming what I already sensed: I've found my new owner. As we leave the charity store, I can't help but feel a sense of purpose rejuvenated within me. While Tyler's college journey had its own excitement, the path ahead with Alex feels just as significant, albeit in a different way. Alex and his family head home, and the moment we step through their front door, he eagerly puts me on again. This time, I'm paired with another one of his worn socks, but I don't mind. I know that in no time, I'll grow to love the unique scent and feel of being Alex's sneakers just as much as I loved being Tyler's.

From the moment I became Alex's go-to pair of sneakers, I notice the meticulous care with which both he and his mother treat their belongings. For them, every item holds value because they don't know when they'll be able to replace it. Unlike Tyler, who had the luxury of multiple options and frequent replacements, Alex wears me every day—to school, to play, to run errands with his mom. I become well-acquainted with every type of terrain, from asphalt to dirt paths to linoleum floors. The wear and tear is inevitable, of course, but Alex and his mother do their best to mitigate it. They clean me regularly, wiping away the day's grime and occasionally applying a little polish to keep me looking presentable. I can tell that they're trying to extend my lifespan as much as possible. Over time, I adapt to the unique demands of being Alex's only pair of sneakers. I find myself not just becoming a part of his life but a necessity, a constant in a world that doesn't offer him many. The soles of my fabric may wear thin, and my laces may fray, but the sense of purpose I feel only grows stronger.

As Alex's everyday sneakers, I quickly become attuned to the rhythm of his life—a life much more demanding than Tyler's. Each day after school, Alex heads to the small grocery store where he works, and I can sense the fatigue setting in as he stands for hours, stocking shelves and managing inventory. I do my best to offer support, cushioning his steps and absorbing the strain of long hours on his feet. He hardly has any free time; what little he does have is often spent taking care of his siblings or helping his mother with chores. And yet, despite the challenges and worries that fill his days, Alex never complains. His resilience impresses upon me a deep sense of admiration and respect.The wear and tear on me becomes more apparent as the weeks roll by. The soles start to thin, the fabric bears the marks of long days and hard work, and my inner padding becomes increasingly compressed. Yet, Alex and his mother continue their regimen of care, cleaning and polishing me regularly, doing their best to keep me functional for as long as possible. Every step Alex takes in me feels weighted with responsibility and tinged with hope. I find a new form of honor in being the support system for someone who has to be strong not just for himself, but for his family as well. While I can't change the circumstances of Alex's life, I can offer him the small comfort and reliability that comes with a good pair of sneakers. In this way, I do my best to help him, to absorb the shocks and stresses of his busy, challenging life. Though I'm just a pair of shoes, I feel like I'm contributing something meaningful to Alex's world, even if he doesn't know it. As I feel myself adapting to the unique demands of being his one and only pair, I find that the value and importance of my role have never been clearer. In Alex's world, where each day brings new challenges, being a reliable pair of sneakers is more than just a function—it's a privilege.

Part 3/4 of 7

[find-roronoa-zoro]

Roronoa Zoro X CisFem Reader

38

Spring had quickly turned to summer and before you knew it the heat and humidity you didn't miss while being abroad had crept in.

"Tiiiigerrrrr," you groaned, kicking the sheets off and tugging at your sweat drenched tank top, "when are they going to fix your air-conditioning?"

He turned to watch you, "It's an old building. They said they have to replace the entire thing. It could take another week or so."

Wiping your forehead, you groaned again,"I can't sleep like this."

"Would a shower make you feel better?" he fanned your face with his hand.

"It's 2AM."

"You aren't sleeping anyway." he chuckled sitting up.

"Fine." you sighed looking over at him,"Where are you going?"

He pulled a shirt over his head, "While you're cooling off I'm going to run to Walmart and get a fan. It'll help a little."

You didn't protest, a fan sounded like an amazing idea. After slipping into some shorts and shoes Zoro kissed your nose and left. You shuffled into the bathroom peeling away your damp clothing. He was right, a luke-warm shower was very soothing. When you finished you braided your wet hair and grabbed fresh light clothes from the stash you kept in the top drawer of his dresser. Not long after you'd sprawled back out in the bed, your greenette returned with a box. By almost 4AM the two of you had the fan put together and oscillating between you.

"So much better." you hummed flopping back into his mattress, "Tomorrow we're staying at my place. You can't live like this."

"It doesn't bother me that much." he rested his head on your chest, "Besides, there's too many people at your house."

Your fingers absentmindedly made their way through his hair, "While sweaty Tiger is very attractive, I'd rather not lose my boyfriend to a heatstroke. But that is true."

He chuckled and closed his eyes enjoying your affection.

"When is your lease up?" your question forced him to glance up at you.

"Two months, why?"

You shrugged nonchalantly,"Just thinking we should find a better place than this. Stuff is always breaking and they take forever to fix it."

"We?" he repeated feeling his pulse speed up a bit.

You hummed distracted by the thought of a newer apartment with working heat/air and updated appliances.

"Are…" he shifted to get a better look at you in the moonlight,"Is this some weird way of suggesting we move in together?"

"Well," your stomach plunged to your feet,"I mean… my house is always loud and you deserve a better apartment. Split rent would make it easier to save, right?"

He deadpanned before smirking, "Of course, not because you love me or anything."

"Shut up," you blithely nudged him, "that's a given."

For a moment you thought you'd made a terrible mistake. It had just come out so naturally that you didn't have a chance to run it through the proper filters.

What if he wasn't ready?

Were you ready?

Yes.

The fact that big scary relationship steps felt so easy when it came to Zoro was your glowing neon universal sign.

A soft laugh rumbled through his chest, "This wasn't how I expected we'd tackle this conversation."

You rolled onto your side to face him in the dim moonlit room, "Would you rather I propose?"

He paused stunned for a moment before tossing you an accusatory glance, "You're joking."

"This time, Tiger." you chuckled pulling him in for a sweet kiss, "I'll get you eventually though."

He dropped his head bashfully into your chest, "We'll see about that."

In the coming weeks you began searching for an apartment together. The two of you settled on a one bedroom in a newer complex on the outskirts of the city almost halfway between home and Newgate Industries. You'd be out of the house but still close enough to your boys, and Luffy would probably be over all the time anyway.

You leaned against Zoro on the sofa in the family room scrolling through a furniture website on your phone.

"Should we keep your couch or get something new?"

Your boyfriend hummed in thought, "It was a hand-me-down, but I don't want to spend too much. We already have the deposit and first month's rent."

"A house warming gift then-yoi." Marco joined the conversation taking a seat in the old recliner next to you.

"That's too much." Zoro commented.

"I'll be sure to order a cheap one then." your older brother replied changing the channel on the TV.

"You won't win." you chuckled, not bothering to look up from your scrolling, "I'll send you the link Pineapple."

Zoro glanced between the two of you and shook his head, "Sometimes it's hard to believe you aren't blood related."

"Thank you." You and Marco replied in unison making him chuckle again.

"When's the move in date-yoi?"

"In a couple of weeks." Zoro answered swiping up past a sofa he didn't like on your phone.

"Hey!" you protested.

"Too fancy." he muttered over your shoulder.

"Have you gone over the material for the deposition?"

You glanced over at your brother, "I've looked at it a few times. I'm not sure what else I should be doing."

Over the course of the last month the family was preparing to go in for a deposition, at which point Sabo suspected to be offered a deal to settle outside of court. If a settlement couldn't be reached then the statements would be used in court.

"We'll just answer whatever stupid questions they have-yoi."

Two days before you were to move out of your childhood home you met your brothers downtown outside of the city courthouse. Zoro joined as moral support but stayed out in the lobby. You and your siblings were sent up to the third floor to wait as you were called back individually to answer questions. Sabo was not able to legally represent the family because he was part of the actual case, so when you went in you were met with part of the legal team from your corporate office and Weevil's lawyers.

It was nerve wracking but not incredibly difficult. They asked you questions about your father's relationship to Weevil's mother. About your adoption. How present Pops was in your daily and school life because of his busy job. They asked about The Babies' adoptions and how they were raised. Most were yes or no questions. Occasionally your eyes dropped to the stenographer's quick fingers while you formulated what you thought to be the best response. When you were finished they sent you back out to wait for each of your brother's turns. After a few more hours the six of you were sent home completely mentally exhausted.

___________________

Moving day finally arrived. Fortunately, you had plenty of muscle to help that only required payment in the form of food and beer. You were a little nervous to move in with Zoro knowing your dynamic might change a bit - at the same time you were relieved to have more uninterrupted time with him.

Your two blonde brothers arrived to help later than planned, having spent most of the afternoon tied up in meetings. Both of them looked worn out and defeated.

Marco leaned against the bar that separated the living room and kitchen fiddling with tape on a box of glassware.

"What's the deal? Why are you two moping?"  you poked him.

"We got the offer for the settlement today-yoi"

"Not good I'm guessing?" you asked leaning next to him with a beer.

"Nope." he sighed,"He'll only settle for half of everything."

"Looks like we're going into battle then, huh?" you scoffed,"At least we can still fight."

[alternativegirl23]

Deal With The Devil- Finale

To anyone that was waiting for this, Im sorry it took so long. This was my first time writing smut and my first time writing anything in years. Im well beyond rusty but hope to improve. Also sorry if how the writing gets uploaded is weird. Still figuring stuff out on here. I hope the wait was worth it. Reblogs, likes, comments are appreciated.

Weeks had passed, then several months. You only hoped everything was running smoothly for both parties. You'd work at your desk job during the week, then go home to wait for Lee whenever he'd drop by. Parents were still being a bit too overbearing, even at your age. They should've let you be more of your own person at thirty.

      As their only child, that was hard for them. So you found your freedom where you could. Early one evening, you heard Lee's distinct knock at the door. He calmly walked into the dining room, you following behind him. He dropped the manila envelope down carelessly on the table. 

 "Just in case you thought I was lying", he said. You shook your head, a confused look on your face.

"I dont know why you think I would", you said. Lee opened the envelope to show you the papers, signed by him and his ex wife. "It was amicable. I was the only one to sign the lease of the house. So I helped her find a two bedroom apartment a few towns over". You nodded. 

      He took the papers back to his car and placed them in the glove box. The night came and went in somewhat of a blur. You tried your hand at making moms mashed potatoes from scratch. Following her recipe for cube steak and green beans from a can. Everyone ate plenty and proceeded to do their own thing. 

      Your parents, ever typical, watched TV in the living room. Lee joined them for a little while before heading up the stairs to take a shower. You followed a few minutes after, saying you were too tired to stay up late. "Okay, thats fine cutiepie", mom said cheerily. You recoiled slightly at the name she used for you as a child for so long.

      The bathroom door ajar, the shower beginning letting steam and warmth waft out steadily. You shivered slightly at the difference in temperature. Before heading to your room, you heard Lee yell "Hey hon. I think I left a shirt in my bag. Can you get it for me?" You called out a yes in response.

      Rummaging through his bag, you pulled out a clean black teeshirt. Handing it to him as you opened the door more. Only a towel wrapped around his middle. He gave a smug smirk, as if sensing the heat coursing through you. Holding it out for him, he slowly saunters the few feet to take it from you. 

     "Thank you gorgeous", with a little wink. You forget you're in a long sleep shirt, the tops of your thighs peeking out and giving him a good glimpse of more skin. He notices your face just then, eyes slightly glazed over.

"Your starin' sweetheart", he drawls. His body is only inches from yours now. You shake your head to clear your thoughts. 

      "Sorry, I didnt mean to" you admit sheepishly. 

"S'aright. I like your attention", he counters. He slowly traces a hand up your thigh, your eyes closing a little at his touch. "I should get some sleep", you say in a whisper. Lee's hands move quickly to your ass to give a firm squeeze before you protest any further. 

   "You know where ta find me", he whispered. Placing the lightest kiss on your neck. He gave one last lingering touch before hoping in the shower. You entered your room and closed the door.

    Three hours later and you still couldnt sleep, its now midnight. Your mind wandered to Lee and all the attention he's given you, no matter how small the gesture. I wonder what he looks like when he strokes his cock. Do his eyes roll in his head when he strokes it? Does he ever imagine its me? 

      What does he feel like? Hands having a mind of their own, they traveled down to your panties to slowly start to tease your clit. It didnt take any time for you to become wet, all your focus being on Lee. You tried being quiet, covering your mouth with your hand.

      You attempted to bring yourself to the edge. But just as you were almost there, something in your mind told you to stop. The quiet seemed too quiet. The darkness concealed everything within your bedroom. You were almost blind as a bat and could hardly see anything. 

      But your intuition still told you something or someone was there. You heard him before you saw his shadowy figure. A black outline resting casually in the outline of a door in the corner of your room that lead to your bathroom. 

      “Dont let me stop ya darlin’. You thinkin’ bout me”, Lee asked you in a low, somewhat husky drawl. You instantly froze, breath hitching in your throat. Did you hear that right? Lee cleared his throat softly amd strolled the few feet to the edge of your bed. His eyes lingered on your arm below the blanket, a small growl in the back of his throat.

      He sat on the edge, his hand creeping up your calf and starting to stroke it. Too entranced by his movements, you watched his face as he watched your reactions. He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. 

      “Don't let me stop you darling. I thought you wanted all this. Now you're too scared?”, he asked. You let out a small whimper. Hardly noticing that his hand had moved to your upper thigh and was now caressing it. 

      You sat up straight now, bringing your hand to meet Lee’s and placing his hand over your pussy. Doing your best to maintain eye contact and settle your nerves.

      “Im not scared-”, you said on a shaky exhale. “I just didnt expect you there”, you continued. Lee moved in closer and put his other hand on your shoulder. Starting to kiss your mouth slowly, slipping his tongue on your lips to see if you'd let him in. Licking and biting softly, you whimpered, not able to resist. 

      Slowly, your hesitation subsided. Melting into a small flame in your core that you didn't doubt Lee would make into a spark. You scooted closer to him now, reaching out for him in the darkness. Lee’s hands entangled yours in a sweet gesture. 

      Pulling you close and bringing your head in for a kiss. Mouths opening and tongues already exploring. His large hands roaming up and down your back and sides. You

leaned forward more, connecting your mouth to his neck and started licking softly. Sucking in spots and nipping slightly. 

      Lee’s chest rumbled slightly under you. Smirking to yourself as you heard the soft moan next to your ear. He pulled you away, his mouth now doing the same things to your neck that you just did to his. Your head started to feel light and floaty. Everything in your body telling you to keep chasing this feeling. 

       Lee advanced on your body. Pushing you back a little roughly back onto your bed. Going back to kissing your mouth and neck, hands roaming everywhere. Both of you moaning now, but trying to stay quiet. 

       “Ive been waiting for this for so damn long. You know how many times I had to stroke myself and think of you”, Lee asked breathlessly. You smiled back at him. Feeling giddy and excited knowing that a man ten or so years older could think of you that way. You tore off your clothes, body totally bare and exposed for him.

      Lee did the same and he was everything you'd imagined. You had a preference for certain body types, sure. But as long as they had a handsome face and smooth voice or a certain twang, that was what typically got you off more. He chuckled as he lowered himself onto you. His hard cock poking your stomach, almost lining up with your heat. You had to hold back a whimper, not wanting to wake anyone else in the house up. Lee slowly dragged it through your wet folds, hissing as he just barely slipped inside. 

      “Fuck baby…” his voice trailed off as he kept draggin himself through you. You were in awe of his self control. Yourself on the verge of begging him to put it in. Biting your bottom lip, pouting pathetically up at him as your hand moved back down to your pussy. 

      “Nuh uh sweetheart, that's my job”, he said again in a hoarse whisper. His hand took your place and started to swipe up and down your lips and clit. Finally focusing on just your clit, hands already reaching for blankets. Lee laughed softly, watching you be so desperate for him. “I haven't even done anything and you already want it? Already wanna cum”, he teased.

       You didn’t answer, too focused on what he was doing. He kept finding your bundle of nerves and would rub in circles, up and down, side to side. Without warning, to see your reaction, he stopped. Undoing his belt and sliding down his pants hastily, he grabbed the length of his cock and roughly slid into your waiting opening. Lee chuckled at your gasp of a reaction, your fingers curling around his broad shoulders. Sure, you were with a few people before, but none seemed to be as intune with your body as Lee was. 

      His years more than made up for your slightly less experienced roster. Lee started thrusting slowly as if to try and savor the moment. His intense stare going soft as he looked down at your face half contorted in bliss. He couldnt help but reach a hand out to stroke your cheek and move your hair away. Mouth moving into a small grin as he roughly snapped his hips twice. Only because he wanted to watch you squirm. You clung to him more tightly. 

“God…Lee…please just…fuck me”, you croaked. A little breathless as he put all of his weight on you. He noticed the shallow breaths from your slightly hollow throat. He raised himself up onto his elbows now, kissing and nipping your neck. Shaking his head in a chuckle, he started thrusting faster and harder now. 

      Lifting your hips to feel himself deeper. Arms circling around him in an attempt to bring him closer.

      “Cage me in Lee”, you pleaded. Clasping your hands together to encircle him. You realized then you liked the feeling of him on top of you. His whole body weighing you down like the warmest, heaviest blanket. He smiled and did as you obliged, his arms going behind your neck as he kept snapping hard and deep into you. Your moans coming out as breathy pants. 

      Fuck, he felt so good. Why hadnt I done this sooner? He twined his fingers into your hair, gripping the back of your head. Lee loved having you on your back like this. Totally at his will. His cock throbbed a little when you let you a garbled moan as he felt the light scratches of your nails down his back.

       “Goddamn honey, you keep panting like that and Im gonna come”, he rasped as he picked up his speed. You needed him to go faster and deeper. You wanted to feel yourself gush all over him. Smiling to yourself, you had a good- but maybe not smart- idea. 

      You just wanted to give Lee some…encouragement. 

    “Come on baby, I know you can fuck me harder than that. Hm?” A little chuckle escaped you, until you saw that was the wrong thing  to do. Lee’s gaze went steely and his lip pressed into a thin line. Your face fell in a little bit of fear. He seemed to enjoy that. 

      A smirk curling on his lips. Leaning down to bite your neck, and you letting out a slight cry. He started thrusting his hips wildly, not able to hold back like he was before. He kept going until you went almost limp, mouthing wordless sentences and nonsensical noises. His large hand giving your cheek a few gentle slaps. 

      When that didn't work, he gripped your chin tightly. Trying to force you to come back out of your fucked out state. Tilting his head to purr into your ear as he watched your eyes roll and then refocus again. You had never felt anything this good before. If this was his “light” side, then what was his dark like? 

      “Now listen baby…you wanted this. This was yer idea. You cant handle it, tap out now. Sides….this is jus’ me getting started”. Your eyes widened at that. So there was more to him that he wasnt showing. Your eyes in total focus now, looking him dead in the eyes. Sneering at him, a bit of a growl to your voice now. 

      “Fuck me harder, Sheriff. I can take it”, you smiled a little triumphantly. He was more than happy to listen. Both of  your releases are so close. You let out a loud squeal as you felt him hit your cervix almost painfully so. WIthout thinking, he clamped a hand over your mouth. 

      “I said you gon’ have to be quiet, my little whore”. Your eyes rolled a little, you could feel yourself flutter around him. A moan escaping your mouth with a muffled “fuck” around Lee’s hand. He grinned wickedly, hips snapping as fast as he could. :”Yeah, you liked that, didn’t ya sugar” Lee cooed at you. You nodded enthusiastically, grabbing his wrist as he kept going at a brutal pace. 

      “Wanna be my little whore for as long as I ask”, he questioned. You nodded again. Without warning, you felt yourself cum hard on his cock. Eyes fluttering wildly and you couldn't help but let out an almost screaming moan. Lee panted and huffed, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his own release so close behind your own. Your pussy couldn’t help but cum again around him. “Come on baby, lemme hear those pretty noises. Just a lil”, he cooed into your ear as a whisper. 

      “Please cum in me Lee. I want it so fucking bad”, your breath coming in breathless pants. Letting out a grunt and then groan, you felt him shoot a big load inside of you. Your pussy clamping down on him to take every drop. Lee grunted again as he felt you clamp down, his hand traveling down to knead at your chest. With a growl, “Thank fuck, baby. Damn. Wanted that for so long”, he huffed some more as he lightly played with your hair now. 

      “You always cum that hard”, he asked, brows raising in question. You shook your head in answer. Trying to catch your own breath. “Not that many times with the few guys before me. Fact if we go another round, you can probably make me cum two more times, Sir”. You felt his softening cock twitch inside you again. Unable to help it, you moaned a curse and bit hard on your lip. 

      “Like when you call me Sir”, Lee teased. Hand moving down to squeeze your ass hard, you whimpered. Hips bucking up and already begging for more. “And I just might take you up on your offer”, he finished. You thought you heard movement down the hallway. Lee noticed it too. Both of you stopped and froze still. He even looked a little worried. Maybe we hadn’t been as quiet as we thought. Suddenly, a call from a few feet from your closed bedroom door. 

      “Honey, are you alright in there? I heard some noise. If you’re watching TV, can you turn it down, please?”, she asked. Yours and Lee’s eyes widened. Unsure of what to do. Voice a little shaky, but clearing your throat. 

      “Yeah, mom, Im fine. Sorry, I’ll turn it down”, you called out. Lee sniggered and you hit his shoulder a little hard, trying to get your point across…not funny. Hearing her steps retreat, you let out a sigh of frustration and relief. Lee still grinned at you, shaking his head in amusement.  He slowly let himself up from you, pulling out slowly but relishing in the feeling of your heat until next time. 

     You collected yourself as he went to put back on his tee shirt and boxers. He turned around, a look of disbelief at what just happened. He let out a small chuckle, coming towards you again. Hands planted on the edge of your comforter and hunching over to meet your face. “And that is why I'm buying you your own apartment”, he said matter of factly. Stunned into silence, you didn't know what to say. He smiled, amused at your dumbfoundedness. “Now you best get some sleep, sexy. Im making another visit to ya tomorrow night. But next time…we’re using a gag or really turning on your TV’, he said. All you could do was nod as he sauntered away and gently closed your door. Maybe having your parents' friend around wasn’t as bad after all.     

[oodaon]

hi all! cherry (she/her, 25)🍒 here to present the resident of 2a, nam daon! overall he's a neat/calm guy who really needs to stand up for himself but more under the cut. i don't mind either discord or ims for plotting, let me know what works best for you!

an #oopsie baby to parents in their early 40s. food is present on the table, he's wearing his sister's hand-me-downs until he's like nine. all in all, an ordinary family. a little bit of 'as long as we love each other we will make it' mentality.

family death tw within bullet point. old age takes a toll and daon's father passes after battling an illness. two long weeks later, his mother passes too, struck by severe grief over her late husband. given that he's sixteen, his sister dami becomes his guardian and he moves in with her, into an one bedroom apartment that's closer to her university.

for the most part, he's a quiet kid who tries avoiding situations that would trouble his sister. despite his (young) age he realizes that she's not his mom, she has her own life and that he doesn't want to be an additional burden to her; expenses are little, and daon spends most of his time either studying, reading or being on the 'puter. the type who'd lay on his futon and watch documentaries about a subject they're covering at school at the time... #nerd

university rolls around and unlike his sister who's a law girlie, he decides to go down the path of krn lang and literature! but his grades kinda suffer bc he also starts the employment era so the academically gifted teen turns into a mediocre man! skips out on classes a lot and fails to ✨network✨ though he graduates on time

for what.. employment era 2.0 but with a degree except it's the wrong degree in most people's opinions. works in some firm as proofreader . they move to a two bedroom apt and things are looking a little better!!! woah

but then his sister is like well my dearest bro... my boyf finally proposed and we got a bread in the oven... sry daon :/ and like the good brother he is, he again chooses to not be a burden n moves out. and he always has to get slapped twice so! he's also laid off. AI took his job </3

repeatedly down-scaling places he lives at until he's channeling yoon jongwoo and looking at a cheap goshiown, two steps away from a mental breakdown.

rental agency he's looking through, however, tells him they have an opening at the loop. the studio is rather nice for the money asked and he doesn't risk it, immediately signing the lease without a second thought. i imagine he tried to reach out for the person again but the agency was like what are u talking about. mysterious type of beat where he's confused but chooses not to question i, they will appear again sooner or later?? except they don!t

currently! been at the loop for a year. works as a teacher at a "nearby" hagwon (the teens present are just above middle class but not enough that they're rich; still, it doesn't stop them from channeling the same mean energy. and the pay is. well. not enough to warrant their meanness. yes he's getting mildly bullied by 17 year olds), probably on the 'puter as well trying to find some fiverr-type gigs for extra cash. jumpscared by reoccurring dreams from ten years ago, but also from his 'you're fired!' moments. blames it on working too much. thinks he should get a therapist or smth if only it wasn't so expensive. tripping out and popping paracetamols daily. he has absolutely nooo idea what's cooking up for him!!!

personality wise he's. well. timid. not soft spoken per se but you can tell there was never an angry man in the house with him. tries to avoid any kind of altercation, even when he knows he's in the right, because he doesn't want to deal with the consequences; physical, mental or financial. time is money type of mentality, hates sudden and out-of-nowhere plans because of budgeting; however, if you need a quick loan for something he will try and see what he can borrow. overall reliable and kind, mostly influenced by his sister raising him basically? unfortunately gets jealous of others easily, be it over their relationships or material possessions. internalizes literally everything possible and impossible. cancer sun cancer moon so. good luck

other tidbits is that his unit is literally constantly a mess from paperwork and other teaching material he prepares... please don't enter x needs glasses 24/7 because if you stand like ten meters away from him you're a blurry blob and he's squinting. v neat handwriting. can tie a cherry with his mouth. enjoys that indie type of movies that are like two hours and nothing happens but it's ✨aesthetic✨. will borrow you flour/eggs/milk if you knock and ask, even if it's like 3am. always says (an awkward) hi in the hallways even if there's no response. his everyday wear consists literally of just sweatpants and sweatshirts/oversized tees; if u look at him ud never guess he's a TEACHER... has multiple notebooks filled with poetry hidden somewhere around his unit back from hs/uni + bare bones book concepts he writes down and then grows to either hate or doesn't have the time to even give it a second glance :+) his creativity juice pitcher is empty and has been for yearss

plots wise i prefer to brainstorm or fill up your wanted connections bc i can fit him into pretty much anything so i don't have much to offer here </3