#wow I’ve been here for 11 years

[goofygoldengirl]

My blog is 11 today!

[danielnelsen]

there’s so much i wanna do this week/month/etc but i’m just too sick, i have no energy, i can’t sleep, i’m constantly nauseous and headachey and on the verge of a migraine, i’m stressed and irritable and impatient and panicky…….how tf did i survive nearly 5 years of high school untreated if i can’t even manage this when i don’t have any major obligations rn

[autoneurotic]

hmm. this website is good

[macbow333]

It's my 11 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[lavenderspence]

To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fam!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other. 

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started. 

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds. 

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost. 

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain. 

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go. 

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair. 

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.  

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true. 

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list. 

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone. 

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment. 

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”  

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?” 

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him. 

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest. 

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home. 

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico. 

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to. 

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other. 

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped. 

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking. 

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes. 

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been. 

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside. 

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore. 

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud. 

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did. 

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you. 

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him. 

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her. 

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough. 

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier. 

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking. 

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt. 

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.” 

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more. 

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again. 

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say. 

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight. 

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight. 

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him. 

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive. 

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends. 

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in. 

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take? 

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared. 

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you. 

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote. 

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num. 

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same. 

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card. 

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again. 

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused. 

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different. 

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit. 

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy. 

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years. 

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt. 

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown. 

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place. 

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly. 

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one. 

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth. 

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness. 

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine. 

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both. 

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature. 

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt. 

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled. 

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him. 

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed. 

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that. 

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time. 

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out. 

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.  

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure. 

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn. 

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly. 

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over. 

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did. 

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see. 

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over. 

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out. 

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them. 

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms. 

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation. 

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now. 

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned. 

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth. 

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet. 

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face. 

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry. 

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined. 

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to. 

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him. 

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground. 

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment. 

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of. 

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes. 

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own. 

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much. 

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline. 

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head. 

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him. 

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you. 

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other. 

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand. 

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent. 

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in. 

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again. 

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice. 

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it. 

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto. 

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head. 

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. 

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to. 

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became. 

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace. 

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it. 

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real. 

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple. 

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?” 

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you. 

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss. 

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time. 

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy. 

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process. 

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices. 

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived. 

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours. 

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go. 

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching. 

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together. 

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered. 

“I love you.” 

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

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 12

Hey all, this story will wrap up today, so next week it will go back to just one chapter a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when Glitters wraps up, Sundays will go back to one a day as well.

A short chapter for the first of two, because this chapter got too long and needed to be cut down a tad and the next part fits better as a whole.

Eddie and Steve finally kiss and just giving Steve the loving crafting circle he needs.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

****

Steve got to see where the cast ate their meals, where some of the cast stayed in large tents (for those that had traveled from out of state but couldn’t afford a hotel), he got to meet the people who sold the food to the tourists, and the people who cleaned up every night.

It was marvelous.

“So was the two events they were trying to schedule at the same time, the joust and your trick riding?” Steve asked after they left the cleaners.

Eddie grinned. “Close, the sword fighting and my trick riding. I told them that I would happily run over those bastards, but I didn’t think the horses would appreciate it.”

“I bet that got them to change their tune,” Steve said with a laugh.

“It sure did, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured.

Suddenly they found themselves utterly alone.

“Steve–” Eddie began, but Steve placed his fingers on his lips.

“Just wait,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to give you first.”

Eddie blinked at him. “You bought me a present?” he asked. Well technically he said, “Ym brut me apresemnt?” since Steve still had his fingers over his mouth.

Steve laughed and dug it out of his pocket. “It’s been on a little journey, one that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he murmured, “but Jeff was able to get it back to me in time.”

He handed the small pouch over to Eddie.

Eddie took it gingerly and rubbed it between his fingers as he looked at the small thing that Steve had made for him. But as small as the item itself was the giving of it, was massive.

“I remembered you telling me that your dice bag broke,” Steve mumbled, “and I really wanted to thank you for all your help this weekend. I don’t think I could of done it without you.”

Eddie looked up at Steve with glossy eyes. “It’s perfect, Stevie.”

“I plan on giving a bunch to Katie for her to sell while I make the bigger pieces,” Steve continued, “and Robin said that I should give the first one to you, because it’s special. And you deserve something really special, Eds. Because you’re special to me and I–”

Whatever else Steve was going to say got swallowed up by Eddie kissing him firmly on the lips.

He had just grabbed Steve by the face and locked their lips together.

Steve was stocked into stillness, but that didn’t last long as he pulled Eddie close to him and deepened the kiss.

Eddie let out a happy sigh as they parted for breath. “Wow, baby. You kiss like it might be your last.”

“Eh...” Steve said with a half shrug and a lopsided smile, “when you’ve faced more then one ends of the world, it very well could be.”

Eddie chuckled, pressing their heads together. “You’ve got me there, big boy.”

“Mhmm,” Steve said softly. “And I’ve got you here, too.” His arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, drawing them flush against each other.

Eddie swatted at him. “Sap.”

Steve kissed him again. “If I’m a sap, then you’re my tree.”

“That was corny even for you, honey,” he murmured, swatting at him at playfully.

Steve just laughed.

****

The end of the Renaissance Fair had come at last. There had been more then a few bumpy moments, but looking out at all the happy faces being lit up by fireworks, Steve was pleased with the results.

And next year was going to be even better, he had plans for helping the kids have quality costumes like Corroded Coffin boys had.

He might still have to do some altering instead of full on sewing all of the costumes, but he was really looking forward to it.

Katie had told him that he had several people offer her crazy money for the pouch he had accidentally dropped, so he promised her a dozen by the end of next week for her next Fair. In different sizes too.

Eddie had been the one to suggest that. Little coin purses, dice bags, and even handbag sized ones. Eddie was even going to help him find the right materials for it, ones that weren’t as expensive as the little dice bag Steve gave him.

Steve was really looking forward to it.

They hadn’t told the kids yet about their change in relationship. Not yet. They wanted to hold onto it for themselves a little longer.

Though, judging from the look that Will and Mike had sent him, Steve was pretty sure most of them had figured it out anyway.

So what started out with longing gazing into each others’ eyes, ended with holding hands under the cover of darkness as fireworks exploded overhead.

Steve had never been happier and he just knew more happiness was coming his way.

****

Steve was proven right when Claudia called him up the next morning.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve murmured sleepily.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, “did I wake you?”

Steve looked blearily at the clock on the microwave. It was after ten in the morning.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, “I don’t usually sleep this late.”

“While that is certainly true,” Claudia agreed, “you also don’t normally spend three full days at a fair. Too much sun, too much fun, and too little sleep makes for a tired Steve. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson. Was there something you needed?”

“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Are you free this afternoon, from around two to four?”

Steve looked over at his calendar and squinted. “Looks like it, unless the nuggets call for rides to wherever.”

Claudia chuckled. “I think they’re going to be just as tired as you and not want to go anywhere today.”

He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“So, me and couple of the other moms have a sewing circle every Sunday,” she explained. “And we were all wondering if you wanted to come and join us. We have punch and little treats and spend two hours working on whatever project we have going on while we fill each other in on what’s happening in our lives.”

“You gossip,” Steve accused, teasingly.

She giggled. “Gossip is such tawdry word.”

“Like your every day language wouldn’t make a sailor blush,” Steve said dryly.

“And how would you know that?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.

“Ma’am, your son has the worst language I’ve ever seen on a teenager,” Steve said, “and I’m damn sure he didn’t get it from his dad. Even when he was alive.”

Claudia’s giggle turned into a full on laugh. “All right, you’ve got me there, Steve. So you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Fantastic!” she cried. “We meet at Joyce’s this week.”

“This week?” Steve asked, already plotting what to bring as a treat and which project he wanted to start.

“Yes,” Claudia explained. “We rotate every week so that one person isn’t stuck hosting every time. And if you come often enough, we’ll have it your place once in a while, as well.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”

Claudia squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait. We’re going to teach you how to use a sewing machine!”

That really piqued Steve’s interest. “Oh yeah?”

“It was Karen Wheeler’s idea,” she explained. “Karen doesn’t sew like the rest of us, but she does cross-stitch while we all chat. Apparently Mike was telling her about all the sewing you did for him and his friends and that it was all by hand.”

Steve nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my parents thought sewing was for girls, so I learned by hand.”

“Make sure to bring some examples of your work,” she said. “I want to blow Olive Peterson’s mind. She’s of the same mind as your parents, even though what she does, the knitting, was originally only for men.”

“I have these pouches I’ve decided to make and sell,” Steve said with a grin, “so I can bring those to work on and bring some of the work I did for the kids to show off.”

“That’s brilliant!” Claudia said. “I see you later!”

Steve said goodbye and hung up.

This just might be the thing he needed.

****

Part 13

Don't quote me on the knitting originally being for men thing, it was something I learned when I read a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling years and years ago. The soldier in the story knitted to keep awake at night.

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

@croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system CLOSED

[funnyjb]

Let’s talk

———————————————————————

April 11, 2024

“Please welcome to the stage Joe Burrow!”- Jason

Joe walks up and gives the boys a hug and a shake.

Today was the day that Joe was going to be doing New Hight’s podcast live with Travis Kelce, Jason, and Orlando brown Jr. You were so excited! You decided to come and watch to support Joe. You were wearing a orange skims bodysuit with blue ripped up jeans and Air Forces. You got sat next to THE KYLIE KELCE! You love her and what she does to support women’s sports.

“Hey, I’m Kylie! It’s very nice to meet you!”- Kylie

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you too!”- you

You both hug and sit down

“So, you are Joe’s girlfriend?”- Kylie

“Yes! been dating for 7 years, but just recently got engaged. Trying to keep it low key.”- you chuckled

“Wow, Congrats!I’m surprised I’ve still been with mine! He’s a lot of work, but I love him.”- Kylie

“Awww, you guys are a very sweet couple! And your daughters are the cutest!”- you

“Aww! Thank you!”- Kylie

You and Kylie talked a little about being a WAG and how they managed football and family time. The boys were facing you. You had a clear view of Joe and loved seeing him interact in this kind of environment.

The boys talked football for the most part but then they went into family life.

“So, your parents have really been your number 1 supporter since day one?”- Travis

“Yeah, they helped me through a lot and have always been there for me… but my fiancé has also been there for me through a lot and wouldn’t be here without her too.”- Joe

“Wait what! Bring it back, you are getting married?!”- Travis

Joe chuckled

“Yeah..uh just got engaged last year. We decided to keep it private until I guess now.”- joe

The whole stadium went crazy

I was shocked. I of course didn’t mind he told them because I been wanting to announce it for a while but was waiting on what Joe thought but here we are. He looked at me and winked.

“Congrats man! Is she here tonight?”- Jason

“Yeah..she’s right there.”- joe points at you

The camera points to you and soon enough you are on the Jumbotron. You smiled and waved. You were so nervous.

“Ahhh there she is folks!”- jason

The camera points back to the boys

“Shes beautiful,congrats.”- Travis

“Thank you! She uh.. has helped through a lot. Y/n has been with me my whole journey from college to bengals so she’s been apart for a long time and I wouldn’t be the person I am today without her so I’m very grateful.”- joe

“Wow! Well Joe you are one very lucky guy.”- Travis

“Trust me I know.”- joe chuckled

——————————————————-

After

“Hey.”- joe

He wrapped his arms around you from the back

“Hi!”- you

“So,what did you think?”- joe

“Well, I thought you did awesome. I’m so proud of you! And was very surprised about the shout out.”-you

“Well, I just feel like it’s been hard these past couple of months and I felt like you deserved it. You’re my girl and I don’t show you enough how much I love and care for you and I’m willing to do more now.”-joe

“Joe, thank you, but you are the best partner a girl can ask for. I know you are private about our relationship and I respect that. You amaze me every day with your smarts and talent. I love you Mr. QB.”- you

“I love you too, y/n.”- joe

He placed a kiss on your cheek.

————————————————————-

Insta

Y/n stories

[sumeru-academy]

Delivery girl.

synopsis: you’re the cute delivery girl they have a crush on.

character(s): hu tao, yae, ei (seperate).

warning(s): suggestive flirting (yae).

note(s): female reader, second POV, modern AU.

P.S: this prompt was inspired by my hunger and overwhelming desire to order food at 11 pm.

—mod angel 🎐

HU TAO

Hu Tao was one to order takeout often, however in all her years of ordering from this one specific chain, she had never met a delivery girl as pretty as you before.

Lounging around in her PJs while chatting idly with a phone lodged between her cheek, she made her way over to the door and was barely even paying attention when your voice short-circuited her brain.

“Delivery for Hu Tao!”

She nearly dropped her phone at your voice, body frozen stiff as she shakily ended her call to put her focus on you. ‘Holyyyy crap is this the new delivery girl??? I’ve never seen her before…!’ She was practically gawking at the sight, drool building up in her throat as she struggled to find her voice.

“Wow, I heard our food was pretty good but I didn’t expect you to salivate that much upon arrival,” you teased. “Do you…need a tissue?”

OH RIGHT SHE’S STILL STARING—

“No! It’s okay!” That was a lie, Hu Tao was in fact not okay. “I just— I’m just hungry!”

“(Chuckle) I can see…”

Hu Tao was internally cursing herself for wearing such unflattering PJs. Why in the everliving heavens did she decide to wear this of all things? Especially her ghost slippers! The ones that had the derpy looking faces on them! Agghhh what must you think of her now?!

‘She must think I look ridiculous!’ Hu Tao grimaced.

‘Cute slippers. I want them.’ You smiled and kept on staring.

‘She’s staring at them! Oh noooooo!’ Hu Tao screamed.

“As cute as you are staring at me, can you take these inside, please? They’re really hot and kind of burning my hands.” Hu Tao snapped out of her panic and realized that you were still holding the food she had ordered. Cursing herself even more as you must’ve stood there waiting for her to take them for god knows how long.

“Right, let me just get these off your hands…” Hu Tao shivered when her hand brushed against yours, noting how soft and warm they were as if you weren’t just scalding your hands moments ago. “This is everything, right?”

“Mhm! Everything you ordered is here.” You wiped away some sweat with the back of your hand and Hu Tao swears she saw god for a moment. “Now for the bill…”

“Oh, yeah! Let me just go grab my wallet.” Hu Tao stiffly walked back inside with the grace of a nutcracker and exhaled sharply once her back was turned to you. Has– Has the house always been so warm? Hu Tao pulled at the collar of her PJs and fanned herself as she went to go find her bag. Or was she cold? It feels like her heart is pounding right out of her chest! Good gods she must be possessed!

After paying you the bill –as well as a very generous tip may I add— Hu Tao shut the door with a quiet thud and practically raced to her upstairs bedroom. Launching face first into her pillow and screaming as loud as she could muffle without disturbing the neighbors. 

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAA-’ She kicked her legs up and down and had long forgotten about the food she had left in the kitchen. Her mind instead flooded with thoughts of you, your pretty smile, your face, your whole…everything! 

“She must be a fiend…” Hu Tao murmured, sinking her face into her pillow as heat began to pour from her cheeks. “What a devilish restaurant, using such a temptress to get me to order again next time…I’ve been bewitched…”

YAE MIKO

Miko in a modern setting would totally be a Starbucks kind of girl. Ordering it every chance she gets and even having her name spelled correctly as she was a frequent customer.

However, as frequent as she may be, there are times where she is simply too lazy to drive there herself. So, she settles for delivery whenever she couldn’t be bothered to.

Though, after this one occasion, it seems like Miko will now be ordering delivery every time she gets…

Halfway through with getting her nails painted, Miko’s ears perked up at the sound of the doorbell as she remembered that she had ordered drinks twenty minutes ago. Blowing profusely on her barely even dry nails, she struggled to even open her door as she didn’t want to ruin her tedious hard work. ‘I really should’ve thought this through…’ Miko seethed, fumbling with her elbows of all things to twist the knob open. ‘At least the only person seeing this would be the awkward little delivery boy—’

Girl. 

Miko’s eyes widened when she saw a newer, cuter, more prettier face than the one she was already used to. Instead of some awkward teenage boy that could barely look her in the eye, a more attractive, pretty-faced woman stood in their place instead. “Starbucks delivery for Miss Miko?” you smiled sunnily. 

Of course the one day Miko wasn’t looking her best, a hot girl decided to show up. Great. 

“Yes, that is I,” Miko instinctively took up a flirtatious pose, even though it lost its effect as she was wearing pink fluffy sweatpants. “And who is the pretty lady if I may ask?”

“Oh, I’m just the delivery girl,” You chuckled bashfully. “Here’s your order by the way, Sorry for the wait, it appears that lots of people wanted to order from home.”

“D’awww, I’m not your first customer?” Miko jabbed playfully. 

“No, I’ve actually been working as a delivery girl for a week now. So of course you wouldn’t be my first.” Miko frowned at your blunt response. “Here are your drinks. Better take them fast or else they’d melt.”

“Hmm. Fine. But can you be a dear and put them on the counter for me? My nails aren’t done drying you see,” she presented them to you proudly and gestured for you to follow her inside. “Wouldn’t want them to smear after all.”

“Of course!” You slipped off your shoes and stepped inside to set the tray on her countertop. “There you go. As for the bill…”

“Oh! The bill…” a devious smirk made its way onto Yae Miko’s lips as she had an excellent idea to make you blush. “I’m sorry dear, but I seemed to have misplaced my bag. Perhaps…I could pay you in other ways…?”

That sultry tone in her voice implied something seductive. However, you didn’t comprehend it as such as you only assumed she wanted a different payment method. 

“Yeah we take Apple Pay.” You beamed innocently. “Would you like to–”

“No! That’s not what I meant…”

“...We take CashApp too.”

“No no no–!” 

Miko groaned inwardly. Her attempts thwarted by your obliviousness as she turned to not spare you another thought. “I’ll…I’ll go find my bag…” 

Sighing defeatedly, she paid you and sent you on your way. Plopping down at her kitchen counter and staring at her Starbucks drinks chilling in the tray in front of her. Damn, has her game been that bad lately? Miko wanted to bury herself in her hands in pity. In front of a pretty girl too… 

She set her head against the cool countertop and thought about how she could woo you over to make you hers. Her drinks long forgotten about as they melted under the fiery blaze of her longing for you. 

‘Looks like I’ll be ordering from home more often…’

RAIDEN EI

Since Ei can’t cook at all, takeout and delivery is basically all she eats. She’s a frequent customer of pretty much every fast food chain you could think of, yet the one chain she orders from the most is a certain bakery she loves for their sweets. 

Most often than not, the delivery drivers for that certain bakery have all delivered to Ei’s place a numerous amount of times. However, since you were a new hire, this was the first time you’d be delivering to the well-known customer, and boy was it rough.

To put it short, you got lost.

Ei was getting impatient as she had ordered her boba and sweets over half an hour ago. What was the delivery driver doing? She was getting hungrier by the minute and her craving for sweets got much stronger with each passing minute. The moment the doorbell rang, Ei ran like lightning. Nearly tripping over a couch cushion as she stumbled to reach the doorknob in time. 

‘Finally! I can see the person responsible for delaying me of my desserts–’ Ei flinched when she was greeted with a young woman breathing heavily while holding up a box of her delicious freshly-baked desserts. The smell wafted up to her nose and instantly calmed her down as she took in the appearance of the disheveled woman. Who, despite being completely out of breath, had a very pretty voice Ei noted. 

“Your…Your order…miss…” you wheezed weakly. Clutching your stomach and presenting the box of goodies like it was the head of a monster you had just slayed. “Sorry for the delay. I got a little lost around the…the neighborhood.”

Your arms shook and Ei took it as a sign to grab the box before you could drop it. Watching as you picked yourself up painfully and analyzing your features as she had realized that she had never seen you before from the bakery. 

‘So they hired a new girl to deliver to my house…’ Ei let her eyes wander across your face and took note of how oddly cute you were despite being all hot and sweaty. ‘Very pretty. Though punctuality is not her forte…’

“You were awfully late still.” Ei spoke bluntly.

“I know. I’m sorry. Please don’t tell my boss!” You winced. 

“I won’t.” Ei murmured, grabbing the hilt of your chin and tilting it upwards to make you face her. “I quite like having you deliver to me, so I want you to keep your job.”

Unintentionally, the loser Raiden Ei had made you blush. Who would’ve thought?

“I-I…erm…” Ei watched as you fumbled over your words, heat radiating from your cheeks as she still hadn’t let go of your chin. 

‘Not good with words either.’ Ei noted, ‘And her face is all warm. She really must be out of breath…’

“I will go grab my wallet,” she murmured quietly, letting go of your chin to go back inside the house. “I will be ordering from the bakery a plentiful amount of times. Expect to memorize my route by then, understood?”

“Yes ma’am…”

“Good.”

And as Ei sent you off with the bill and your tip, she sat back in her kitchen and pulled out a pastry from the box. Chewing on a mouthful and letting her thoughts drift to you once more. Thoughts wandering as a blush suddenly spread across her face.

‘Is it just me…or are these desserts even sweeter than before…’

[merrybloomwrites]

You Can Start a Family (Extra: Harry & Y/N First Time)

Summary: The more detailed story of the first time Harry and Y/N have sex. It ended up being basically chapter 11 of the main story.

Previous Chapters:

Main Story: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine ; Ten

Sickfic Part 1 ; Part 2

Mitchrry Prequel

Fan Reactions

Holiday Blues

Word Count: 4K

CW: smut

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

Never in a million years did you think you would be spending the afternoon with your two boyfriends and girlfriend on a yacht in Italy. And yet, that’s exactly where you are. It’s been an absolutely wonderful day on the boat, but now you’re learning a slight downside.

Bathrooms on boats are small. You think that maybe on the bigger fancier yachts there might be full sized bathrooms, but that’s definitely not the case here. Which makes getting ready to go out to dinner a bit difficult.

You, Harry, Sarah, and Mitch, as well as Gemma and a few others are all scattered throughout the boat getting changed and freshening up since you’re going straight to a fancy dinner.

“Ow, dang it!” you exclaim as you bump your arm into the wall while trying to get your dress on.

A second later you hear a knock on the door. “You alright in there love?” Harry asks.

“Yea, no, I’m good! Just hit my arm trying to get into this dress.”

“Do you need help?”

“No no, I’ve got it.”  It’s quiet for a moment before Harry hears another bang followed by a quiet “oh come on”.  

“Can I please help you?” he asks again.

You finally admit defeat and say, “Okay, but I’m uh, not really wearing anything.”

“It’s just me out here, no one else will see you,” he says reassuringly.

You open the door and Harry pauses for a second, taken aback at the sight in front of him. You’re standing there in just your bra and panties, holding the dress in your hand. His mouth waters at your bare skin, and he thinks back to the night before when he watched Mitch slide into you. He immediately imagines himself in Mitch’s position, and all he wants is to take you to bed at that very moment.

But Harry is a gentleman. So he averts his gaze to the dress you’re holding and reaches out to take it from you.

“I’m not sure why I’m having trouble with it. I tried it on when I got it a couple weeks ago and it was fine,” you state.

Harry looks at it for a second before saying, “Well you didn’t unzip both zippers.”

“Both zippers?” you ask incredulously. “There’s more than one zipper? What the fuck?”

Harry laughs and says, “Yea one under each arm.”

“Wow I completely forgot about that. I feel dumb now.”

“Oh don’t say that, two zippers is kind of weird.”

Harry hands back the dress, and you slide it on easily now that he’s undone both zippers. He helps you zip them up as well, his hands trailing along your skin as he does so. His eyes meet yours and you reach out to cup his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss. You plan to keep it simple, unaware of how turned-on Harry is after seeing you in such little clothing a moment ago.

He deepens the kiss as he pulls you flush against him. You follow his lead and get lost in the feeling of him against you until you hear someone coming and step away.

“Don’t worry,” Sarah says. “It’s just us. Everyone else has left already.”

“The last car is waiting for the four of us,” Mitch adds.

“We’re alone on the boat?” Harry asks and the other two nod yes.

He kisses you one more time before walking over and kisses first Sarah, then Mitch. You get to share a kiss with each of them as well before finally heading out to the car.

You and Harry are next to each other in the back of the van while Mitch and Sarah are in the middle row. It’s a 20-minute drive and Harry seems to have decided that the best way to pass the time is kissing you. It’s not like you make out the whole way, but rather he surprises you with kisses throughout the ride. You’re admittedly a little worked up by the time you reach the destination.

At the restaurant Harrys sits on your right side and Gemma sits on your left. A few of Harry’s friends are directly across, and Mitch and Sarah are down at the other end of the table. It feels weird being so far from them.

You look over and catch Sarah’s eyes before sharing a soft smile with her.

“So, Y/N, Harry,” you turn to Gemma beside you as she says your name. “How long have you two been secretly dating?”

You let out a quiet laugh at how straightforward she is and Harry answers, “Officially I guess it’s been about 24 hours.”

“Wait, this is that new?”

“Yea, pretty new,” you reply. You take a moment to choose your words, landing on an honest explanation that will still hide some of the truth. “We hung out a bit when I was at the shows last month. And before I left we discussed maybe dating but that we wanted to wait until the tour ended.”

“You didn’t wait very long,” Gemma says with a laugh, her tone indicating that she’s teasing rather than judging.

“Well, she’s only here for the week, had to make a good impression with the little time I have,” Harry replies.

“And did he make a good impression? Where’d he take you on your date?”

“He uhm, well, he actually had a chef come to the house,” you answer a little hesitantly, knowing that’s not a date most people can afford.

Gemma smiles and you know she’s being genuine when she says, “That sounds lovely. I really am happy for the two of you. Harry, don’t mess this up.”

The conversation turns to other topics, and you all enjoy another delicious meal. Harry’s hand lingers on you throughout the entire dinner. He holds your hand until your dinner arrives and you need it to eat with, and then he places his on your knee. It’s something so small and yet so sweet that it has you feeling both cared for, and honestly, a little turned on. Especially on the rare moments when his hand slides just a bit higher on your leg. 

The four of you say good-bye to the rest of the group and load into the car to head to the villa. You’re again in the back with Harry who immediately places his hand on your thigh, higher than before, and the sudden contact causes you to gasp in surprise and desire. All the little touches from throughout the day have you on edge, and part of you wants to throw caution to the wind and straddle him right there in the car.

But you contain yourself. You place your hand on his thigh as well, mirroring his actions as he slides higher. His breathing picks up and you notice a slight bulge in his pants that wasn’t there before. You decide to get a little payback for all his teasing, and you move to lightly grip his hardening length over his clothes.

The choked gasp that Harry lets out catches Mitch and Sarah’s attention. They turn around and you see their eyes darken at the sight of you so gently working Harry up. He thrusts up chasing more friction and you pull completely away. Harry pouts and opens his eyes and seeing that they have an audience grounds him a bit. He knows they can do whatever they want in front of Mitch and Sarah, but there’s still the driver to think about, and so Harry focuses on taking some deep breaths.

You watch him as he does this, and you’re impressed at how well he can calm himself. You remember a time when Mitch and Sarah did everything they could to rile you up in the back of a van and there was no way you could center yourself as well as Harry just had. In fact, you’re probably in a worse state than he is at the moment. Luckily it’s a short drive and as you turn a corner you see the villa just ahead.

You all climb out of the car and thank the driver before turning to head inside. Harry keeps one hand on the small of your back as he unlocks the front door. There’s a charged energy surrounding the four of you as Harry leads you all to the bedroom.

Once in the room, you again wonder what to do, where to go. Going from three people to four is an adjustment and you know at some point you’ll all get into a rhythm, but as this is only the second time you’re all together, there’s still some hesitancy.

“Y/N,” Harry says, and you look at him. He continues, “I would very much like to have sex with you tonight, if that’s alright?”

The wording of his question seems so formal that you almost laugh, but then the meaning sinks in and laughing is the last thing you feel like doing. Harry wants you, wants to have sex with you, and you realize that there’s nothing you want more in than moment than to say yes.

You start to nod, and Harry gives you a look that you somehow understand means “use your words.”

“Yes, Harry, that’s alright with me. I want that too.”

With your clear consent given, Harry doesn’t waste a second. He walks forward, once again pulling you flush against him and leans down to press his lips against yours. It’s possibly the most intense kiss you’ve ever had, his mouth naturally dominating yours and you happily submit. It’s a freeing feeling, giving up control and trusting Harry to take care of you.

As his tongue slides against yours you swallow the whines that try to leave your mouth.

Sarah slides up behind you, placing her hands on your waist as she says, “Don’t hold back darling, let us hear you.” You roll your eyes, first in endeared annoyance at how well she can read you by now, and then in desire when her lips move to suck a love bit into your neck. The onslaught of sensations has you weak in the knees and you sink into Sarah who helps hold you up.

When you pull away to take a gasping breath you open your eyes and see Mitch mirroring Sarah by standing behind Harry. He takes advantage of your need for oxygen by pulling Harry’s head to the side so that he can slot their lips together. You let out a moan at the sight of them making out in front of you.

Without breaking his kiss with Mitch, Harry slides his hands up your sides until he reaches the zippers. He slowly starts to pull them down, giving you plenty of time to stop him if you want to. But you don’t. You let him remove your dress and Sarah helps you take off your bra and underwear.

You’re standing there, completely bare while the other three are fully dressed. It should make you feel self-conscious, or vulnerable, but instead it just feels nice. You know that they’re going to take care of you and make you feel good, and you want to let them. So you stand there as they run their hands along your body and just embrace their touches.

You get lost in the kisses the other three press to your lips. You know that whichever two you’re not currently kissing are making out with each other, since you can hear the sounds of their lips smacking together, and you love that now everyone can always have a partner. With three it sometimes felt like one person was being left out but with four, that’s no longer the case.

Hands eventually lead you to bed and you lay down. You get to watch as Mitch, Sarah, and Harry all help each other to remove their clothes. Sarah sits next to you and Harry climbs on the bed by your feet. Mitch stays standing, watching the scene unfold before him.

Harry gently moves your legs apart and slides between them, placing kisses on your skin as he moves up. Your body heats under his touches and you feel desire pool in your belly. When his lips reach your inner thighs you moan and quietly plead for more. You’re nervous that he’s going to keep teasing you and you’re pleasantly surprised when his tongue immediately licks through your folds.

He repeats that move a few times before his tongue starts to circle your clit. Your one hand moves to grip the curls on top of his head and your other reaches out next to you. Sarah sees the movement and holds your hand in her own, helping to ground you as waves of pleasure move through your body.

Harry takes his time eating you out, slowly working you up. He’s not quite teasing, but still not quite giving you enough to push you over the edge. Based on the sounds coming from Harry you don’t know who’s enjoying this more. For a moment your mind is clear enough to appreciate that this is the man who wrote Watermelon Sugar. But then a finger teases your entrance, and all thoughts leave you.

Harry pulls back and you pout at the loss.

“Y/N, look at me,” he says, and you immediately find his eyes. “Is this okay?” he asks as his finger continues to trace through your folds.

“Yes, absolutely, please,” you manage to say before he slides one finger inside, effectively taking your breath away and rendering you speechless. His fingers are thicker than Mitch or Sarah’s and the stretch when he slides a second in next to the first is more than you’re used to.

“Fuck,” he says. “So fucking tight.”

“She’ll need three to be ready for you,” Sarah says, remembering her own experience with Harry from the night before.

He nods to show he’s listening, but his eyes never turn away from watching his fingers repeatedly disappear inside of you. He scissors open his fingers in order to stretch you more before adding a third.

As he continues to pump his fingers you finally reopen your eyes to take in the full scene. Sarah is now laying down beside you and Mitch is kneeling between her legs. He’s gently stroking Sarah’s leg with one hand and his cock with the other. He seems to be doing both actions subconsciously, since he and Sarah are focusing on you and Harry next to them.

It’s intense, having two people watch you, especially when Harry slides his fingers out and lines his cock up with your entrance. You focus on him as he slides himself through your folds, coating himself in your wetness. But right before he pushes inside you put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“What is it? Are you okay? Did I do something?” he worriedly asks.

“I’m fine,” you answer. “You’re fine. It’s Mitch.”

“What did I do baby?” Mitch asks from his spot next to Harry.

“You’ve got this look on your face. And it’s not a sexy look. It’s your concerned face. What has you worried?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s something.”

“It’s just- I’m the only person you’ve been with. I know you. I know your limits.”

Harry shifts to face Mitch and say, “You trust me, right?”

“Of course I trust you,” Mitch replies.

“Then trust that I will always take care of our girls. Okay?”

“Okay. Just be gentle with her,” Mitch says quietly.

“Always,” Harry says before he pulls Mitch in for a kiss. When they break apart you’re happy to see Mitch’s expression is much more relaxed. He leans across to share a kiss with you and then there’s another minute or two where the four of you jumble together all exchanging kisses with one another.

When Harry is back in position above you, you say, “Just one more thing.”

“What do you need love?” Sarah asks.

“Can we all, uhm, do this together?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” she replies.

You take a deep breath and say, “I want you and Mitch to have sex while Harry and I have sex.” Your face turns beet red as you speak your desires so explicitly, something you rarely do.

“You’re so cute when you’re all shy,” she says. “And of course we can do that. Don’t think I can wait much longer either.” She nuzzles into your neck before places kisses on your shoulder.

“I’m ready,” you say, meeting Harry’s eyes again.

“If you’re uncomfortable or want to stop any time, just tell me and we’ll stop,” Harry says.

“I know,” you reply before pulling him down to attach your lips to his. The kiss is immediately heated, and you moan as he bites your bottom lip. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue in, exploring your mouth. His fingers are back inside you, making sure you’re stretched and ready for him.

He pulls his fingers out and you watch as he wipes the slick still coated on them onto his cock. It’s a move so dirty that it sends another wave of desire through your now achingly empty core.

“Please, Harry, I’m ready. I need you,” you say as you swivel your hips slightly to draw his attention where you want it.

“I’m here, pet,” he says, and you feel the tip of his cock slide into you a second later. You gasp at the new feeling, and you hear sounds of pleasure from the other three as well. You smile knowing that you got your wish. You want to look beside you and see Mitch pushing into Sarah but at that moment Harry pushes in more and the stretch has you focusing solely on him.

You knew he was thicker than Mitch but holding them in your hands and having them inside you are two completely different things. There’s a slight burn you’re not quite used to, and you wince, just for a second. Harry, who is focusing all his attention on your reactions, notices the look and asks, “Doing okay lovey?”

You take a deep breath and smile before assuring him that you’re doing just fine. Mitch’s hand grabs yours and you look at the pair next to you. You look down at where Mitch and Sarah are connected, and that image, plus the blissed look on Sarah’s face, sends another wave of arousal through you. Harry groans as more wetness gushes onto his dick.

His eyes meet yours again and you place a hand on his back, encouraging him to keep going. Slowly, gently, he pushes until he is fully inside, completely wrapped in your warm, tight walls. He leans down, placing kisses on your neck, shoulder, chest, anywhere he can reach while he lets you adjust. Finally, you tell him you’re ready for more.

He pulls back so just the tip is inside before he thrusts in again. All four of you moan in unison and you open your eyes to see that Mitch is following Harry’s moves. It makes you feel more connected to everyone at the same time, knowing that you’re all experiencing the same pleasure.

The boys pick up their pace and Sarah pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. You break apart from her when Harry changes the angle, hitting that perfect spot inside you. He buries his face in your neck again and you feel him gently bite and suck at the sensitive skin there. You know he’s leaving marks that will require plenty of makeup to cover, but it feels so good that you don’t care.

Breathy whines and whispers of “please,” and “more” and “Harry” are all that is coming out of your mouth as you feel the increased tightening in your belly. Your breaths turn to pants and Harry brings his fingers to your clit. He rubs circles against the sensitive nub as he thrusts deeper and harder than before.

Your back arches and your loudest moan yet is pulled from you as you come, clenching around Harry’s length as though to trap him inside. His movements don’t stop, though they do become more erratic as he chases his high. His orgasm hits a moment after yours, and the feeling of his warm cum coating your insides has you seeing stars.

He slides out of you a moment later and you turn to watch Mitch and Sarah as you come down and catch your breath. They look beautiful like this, and you lean in to press kisses to Sarah’s neck while Harry slides a hand to her core, seeing as Mitch’s hand is still tightly wrapped in yours. Harry gives her the last bit of stimulation she needs to crash over the edge, and you both watch in awe as they beautifully fall part simultaneously.

You’re all still for a moment and Mitch checks in with each of you individually to make sure everyone is okay and happy. You assure him that you’re good, way more than good, and you bask in this moment.

Your face splits into a large grin, and then you can’t help but start to giggle. It’s contagious and suddenly the four of you are laughing, though no one’s entirely sure why.

You finally calm down enough to say, “I can’t believe this is my life.”

“Well, believe it baby,” Harry says. “Because we’re not going anywhere.”

“Good.” You reply, shifting everyone so that you’re laying across all three of them. With your head on Mitch’s chest, torso being held by Harry, and legs tangling with Sarah, you fall asleep.

Warm sunshine wakes you up the next morning. You stretch and are surprised to have so much room in bed. Only Harry is lying with you and one glance shows that he’s awake and smiling at you.

“Good morning,” you say.

“Good morning lovey,” he replies and leans down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. You shift up so you can kiss his cheek, and a moment later you find his lips against yours in a lazy morning make out.

Before things can go too far you pull back and ask, “Where are Mitch and Sarah?”

“They went for a walk on the beach,” Harry answers and slots his lips against yours again. After one more intense kiss he leans away and says, “We probably shouldn’t do more without the others here.”

“You’re right. I mean, it’s not realistic that we all be together for sex every time, but we should talk about it first. Set boundaries and expectations and everything,” you reply.

“Communication,” Harry states and you nod. “Speaking of communication,” he continues. “I wanted to check in after last night. How are you feeling?”

“I feel wonderful Harry. Really.”

“Yea? Not sore or anything? No regrets?”

“No regrets. You were perfect,” you reassure him.

You lapse into a comfortable silence before heading outside to have breakfast on the patio. Mitch and Sarah join you and the four talk more about the dynamics of the relationship, especially when it comes to the physical side.

Afterwards you walk inside but turn to look at the other three still on the patio. They’re smiling and joking around, and your heart melts at the love you hold for them.

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

Hope you enjoyed! Not sure yet which story I'll work on next or when it will be up, but there are some ideas & requests all swirling around in my brain.

Also, as much as I do love Harry and Mitch's new haircuts, they will always have Love on Tour era hair in my stories haha it's just how I'll always picture them

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305

[stinkythehutt]

an AU idea that i’ve been thinking about lately but i’m not sure i’d ever write is: sidious tries to clone a better version of anakin (without his knowledge) from DNA and matter taken from his severed limbs post-mustafar battle. but, with the sustained damage to the limbs and without the help or technology of kamino, none of it takes very well. only one of the clones actually survives and when tested at around age 3-4 it comes out that he isn’t force sensitive. and, also, he’s inherited a lot of anakin’s more disagreeable traits to the extreme, due to genetic changes and the impact of being raised as an almost-not-quite-dark-lord-of-the-sith from birth.

sidious, in a moment of sidious-like dark humor (and rage at the boy for not being what he wanted), arranges for the boy to be sent to tatooine to live under the ‘care’ of the hutts. this goes as you’d expect until, 7 or so years later, this 10-11 y/o furious, messed-up, came-back-wrong-but-somehow-even-worse, unaware he’s a clone of anakin, kid runs into… obi-wan kenobi, hot off the press of the events of the OWK series.

and obi-wan is like, no. nope. i’m not raising this kid. i don’t know how this happened or what the fuck the galaxy has against me now but no. i’ll figure out a way to free him and i’ll send him to live with the lars but i won’t raise him. so he gets anakin2 freed and they have the galaxy’s most hideous road trip out to the lars’ and they get on terribly and this kid is traumatisingly so like all of the worst parts of anakin with none of the redeeming features. he breaks obi-wan’s landspeeder trying to enhance it and he’s disagreeable and irritable and ungrateful and ungenerous and he isn’t even force sensitive or the chosen one. so obi-wan is straight up just putting up with him out of love for his old friend, who is now literally evil and just recently tried to kill him (again).

only obviously over the few days of their journey they warm to each other just a little. and obi-wan goes to leave 2anakin2skywalker with the lars’ and the kid is furious and hurt and they’re trying to comfort him all wrong and obi-wan is like “wait no he hates when you-“ and realises, fuck. i have to look after this kid. i want to look after this kid. there is nothing actually tying me here and no benefit beyond i kind of care about the little shit now. and i want him to be safe and happy in the same way i wanted anakin to be and i don’t know if i’m good enough to give him that but i have to try. because he needs me.

that, like, exploration of ‘what does this relationship boil down to?’ after all the situational ties are stripped away, all the promises and prophecies and shared histories and goals are gone and instead of in TPM where these two people are bound together by fate, now they are simply bound together by chance and choice and care and love. and how does obi-wan choose to navigate that differently. and how do they both grow and process their own histories. obviously spoiler alert they figure it out and the kid grows up tumultuously happy in the end as a sort of bounty-hunter-rebel type figure and he lives somewhat well on tatooine inciting slave rebellions and getting himself into various troubles and adventures. and he’s never force sensitive and he never joins the official rebellion or learns what happened to old ben who raised him til luke happens to run into him and tell him much later. and there’s no big “wow i’m anakin skywalker! i’m secretly magical and amazing!” moment or anything. he’s just a dude who lives a decent somewhat crazy life out in the sand and fondly recalls the father figure who looked after him when no one else would. the end

[bangchanbabygurl]

11: Her Body pt1. { In The Eyes Of Love }

Genre: Dark Romance/Smut/Angsty/Thriller/Enemies to lovers

Warnings: Explicit language/mention of domestic violence/mention of violence/alcohol abuse/mention of death/stalker/mentions of blood/drug abuse/smut scenes/dark mature themes/triggering scenes/traumatic experiences

Word count: 745 count

╚» Now playing —» Her Body by Nasty Cherry

I finish brushing my teeth and take a deep breath before walking out of the bathroom. I chose to wear the black dress Seungcheol had given a liking to. The black strap knitted drape dress, it‘s more decent than the other ones. I fix the bow as I walk into the living where Jane had set everything up, Jane is a woman in her early thirties who’s been doing this work of field for seven years.

I sit down on the stool as Jane starts with makeup, “So, how long have you and Mr. Choi been dating?” Jane asked, working her way with my brows and eyes. “Oh…we’ve been together for two months now.” I lie as Jane finishes with foundation and contour, “That's surprising; Mr. Choi isn't usually the dating type. From what I’ve seen and heard, Mr. Choi only spends money on the women he finds sexually attractive till he gets bored.” Jane said lightly patting the setting powder. I felt myself become anxious, I let out a small laugh.

Jane moves to my hair as she begins to style it, “You’re very gorgeous; I'm surprised Mr. Choi has even pulled you into his lifestyle. You’re too sweet for him.” Jane cooed. I laughed nervously, “Thank you, I supposed.” I said. Jane finished with my hair, “All done love,” She said. I clip the necklace back on, “Thank you, I love it.” I said. A smile formed on my tinted dark-red lips, and the front door burst open.

“ Y/N! We—oh wow…Y/N.” I turned around to see Jihoon, Minghao, and Mingyu standing there with mouths open in shock. “What are you guys doing here?” I asked; Jane packed her things. “Have fun, darling. Be sure to snap some selfies,” Jane said, sending a flying kiss before leaving.

I look at them sternly, “What are you guys doing here?” I asked as I get my purse ready for tonight’s event. Minghao tilts his head in confusion, “Where are you off to? Suzy and Nayeon mentioned that you wouldn’t be able to attend tonight's BBQ, but you seem to be all dolled up…wait-” Minghao pauses as his eyes widen. Jihoon stood there with a brooding look, “Are you going out on a date?” He asked. Joshua rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “I bet it's Choi Seungcheol; she canceled her plans with us for him. Unbelievable.” Joshua sulks. Mingyu laughs and points at my dress, “Yah! Are you really going out with Seungcheol!?? No fucking way, Y/N…wait are you his new sugar baby? Daebak!” Mingyu seems to find this very amusing, and I find myself getting annoyed with them.

“Yah! You little shits! Yes, I'm off to meet with Choi Seungcheol, but it's not what it looks like! If anything, this is Bang Chan’s fault for blabbering me to Mrs. Choi!!” I raised my voice, feeling annoyed and pissed, and they all quieted down. I huffed and grabbed my purse and phone, “Besides, it's not like I'm gonna enjoy this; I'm dreading it.” I stated as I slipped into the matching black heels with red bottoms.

A sigh escapes my lips as I stood up straight, “Now, can you please all leave? Seungcheol’s driver is waiting for me,” I said, pushing them out the door. I grab the keys from my purse and lock the door, “Wait, are you sure?” Minghao asked. I look at him, confused, “Am I sure of what?” I asked. I walk to the elevator, “Are you sure you're comfortable doing this? I mean, you know you don't have to, right?” Minghao asked. Jihoon and Joshua looked at me, waiting for an answer, “Of course I know, but it is a favor I owe.” I said, stepping inside the elevator. Mingyu lets out a long sigh, “A favor? Let me guess, it's the Choi’s 20th business anniversary am I correct?” He asked. I look at him with a raised brow, “Did you know?” I asked.

Mingyu smirks, “I attended last year’s anniversary, I hope this year isn't messy.” he said. I walk off the elevator upon reaching the lobby, “Have a fun time at the bar,” I said. Waving at them as I turned to see a black SUV waiting outside with a man dressed in a black tux, I took a deep breath in before stepping out into the cold air. This event better be worth the dreadful shopping, the makeup, and the hairstyle.

[inprogresspleasewait]

Rosekiller, First Lease

This is based on a post about how Evan finds out that Barty's name is actually Bartolomeo at their wedding, but I tweaked it to be when they sign their first lease cause why not.

“Sign here, and… here.” The landlord pointed at the two dotted lines on the paper. The lease to Evan and Barty’s first flat. They had made it. They had made it away from their families, away from the craziness. They were seconds away from having the flat they’d dreamed about, in muggle London. Their own little slice of magic. But looking down at the lease, Evan frowned. 

“Wait, Barty? Why’d you write Bartolomeo? That’s not your name.”

“Actually, Evan, it is.”

“No! Your name is Bartemius, like your dad!”

“Common assumption. It’s actually Bartolomeo, like my grandfather on my mother’s side. She’s Italian.”

“Wow. I’ve known you since we were 11! We’ve been together since we were 16! And it’s taken me all these years to even know your name! Wow. Next, you’re going to tell me you have a secret passion for knitting.”

“Actually…” Barty laughed.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Bartolomeo Fucking Crouch!”

“I like poking at stuff with sharp objects… That’s literally half of what knitting is.” Barty was close to tears, he was laughing so hard. 

word count: 179

[elcpsstuff]

The Summer I Remembered You (C.F) (Part 11)

Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide then I thought - Arctic Monkey

A/N: You guys will be REELING with these next few eps.

Synopsis: Yns birthday, Frankie comes to town, a chaotic house party is planned and the start of what happened between Yn and Conrad.

—

Last Summer, Age 16

My birthday was my personal favorite part of the summer. It was in the middle of July and it wasn’t the end of the summer yet, it was right in the middle. Susannah always went full out for me and Belly but this was different, I was turning 16.

I walked downstairs to see everyone setting up for my birthday. I smile and once Susannah sees me her face lights up. “Yn!”

Everyone looks towards me and then immediately i’m engulfed with a hug by Belly and Steven.

“Guys! Put me down!” I yelp but everyone is just laughing. Steven lowers me and then Belly pulls me in for a side hug. Then Jeremiah comes up to me, “Happy birthday, yn! Not a baby anymore.”

“Jere, i’m 4 months younger than you.” I complain.

Once Laurel and Susannah wish me a happy birthday, I feel someone’s hands snake around my waist and pick me up. I smile at the action.

“Conrad! Stop!” I giggle but he doesn’t stop.

“Nope. Not today.”

Eventually he puts me on the ground and i’m brought into a real, front hug. He looks deep into my eyes, and for a second I thought he was going to kiss me.

“Happy birthday, yn.”

—

Present Day:

“YN!” I’m smacked in the face with a pillow and I immediately groan. I stumble around in my bed and start smacking the hair to find the person.

“Stop!” I hear Belly’s voice and then laugh.

“What the hell Bells!”

Belly’s face shows no remorse, and then a cocky little smile appears on her face as she rips the covers off from me. “Get up, now.”

Belly leaves my room and I feel like crying. I wanna stay here forever and not face the music anymore. My heart still lingers back to when Conrad carried me up the stairs a couple of nights ago. That’s what I remember.

I straighten my hair out and then put on a green lace crop top with jean cutoffs. After putting on some jewelry, I headed downstairs.

Everyone was up and about getting things ready and when Jeremiah saw me, he screamed, “Yn! Happy Birthday!”

There were screams and I couldn’t do anything but laugh. I was turning 17, it wasn’t that special?

Conrad didn’t say anything and just ate his food. I didn’t even care anymore. I wasn’t gonna pay attention to him.

“So,” Steven begins, “When is Frankie coming?” I roll my eyes at his remark because if it wasn’t obvious, Steven thought Frankie was cute. They had hooked up once last year and even though it was weird, Frankie promised me it would never happen again.

“Steven is basically like my brother, and I guess sometimes you think your brothers cute?” She reasoned.

I nodded even though I was weirded out.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when Belly nudges my shoulder, “Hope you don’t mind, but Taylor’s coming back up again for your birthday, and the Volleyball tournament this weekend.”

My eyes widen, “Frankie and Tay Tay in the same room? Wow.”

Their hatred stems back to Belly’s freshman year. We were sophomores and they both liked Steven. Frankie had hooked up with him and Taylor saw and her earth shattered because I knew she liked him. Loved him even.

Frankie didn’t. It wasn’t in her nature. Taylor loved him.

“Happy Birthday, sweet girl.” Susannah says cupping my cheeks for a split second.

I smile in her embrace because it was Susannah. She had been really sleepy this summer and when I asked Laurel she claimed it was summer.

I guess that was enough reason in itself.

—

“Your gonna love mine.” Belly says while handing me a bag. When I pulled the things out, it showed this white dress with detail that could also be a romper. There was also a necklace inside.

“Bells! I’ve been wanting this for so long, how’d you save up for this?” She holds a hand to her heart, pretending to look offend.

“She’s right Bells, you don’t even have a job.” Steven chirps in.

“I have my ways.” She says through a smirk.

Steven then throws a Princeton shirt at me, the same thing he got Belly.

“Wow Steven, I love how diverse you’re gifts are.” I deadpan.

“Shut up! Your lucky I got you a present.”

“Okay, okay! From me.” Susannah says while handing me a little box. Inside was a wave necklace with little diamonds stuck to the wave. It was beautiful.

“Susannah.. this is amazing.”

“Just for you, my girl.” She says while kissing the top of my hair. Susannah was the light of all our lives, that was one thing that would never change.

Jeremiah got me a pair of earrings this girl he was talking to recommended, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Belly didn’t seem amused about the girl part.

“Conrad, give yn your present.” Susannah says while pointing to me.

Conrad doesn’t make eye contact with me and instead goes to stand up.

“I forgot.”

I thought he had already stooped low, but this was new.

It wasn’t that I wanted a gift from him, I wanted at least a “I remember your birthday.”

Even that was asking for too much.

Tears threatened to spill but I pushed them back while standing up, “It’s fine. I have to go— um.. yeah.” I rushed out of the room before the first tear fell.

Frankie was going to rip Conrad a new one. I wanted her to, she was good at that.

—

“Boo, Bitch!” Frankie says as I open my arms to her. I went down to the pier for a little before coming back to the house and waiting for Frankie.

“Thank God your here.” I say in a whisper as we walk towards the kitchen. All eyes immediately turned on us.

“Hey, Frankie!” Jeremiah says while standing up and motions to grab Frankies bags, to which she accepts. I could see their little flirting notion happening already.

“Such a gentlemen, Jere. Cant believe you don’t talk about him more, yn.”

I felt my cheeks get red and so did Jeremiah’s.

Belly and Taylor come down the stairs and the tension was already rising. Steven was caught between the thread.

“Frankie.” Taylor says in a taunting voice.

“Taylor.. that’s funny yn didn’t say you would be here?” Frankie looks at me with a glare and all I can mouth is a sorry to her.

“Hey, let’s go in the pool.” Steven suggests.

Frankie turns her head to Steven and sends a small smirk, “Great idea, Stevie.”

I could feel Taylor stare at them.

So here we were in the pool minutes later. Me and Frankie were talking on one corner while Belly and Taylor talked on the other. Jere and Steven were making their way in.

“So, where’s Mr. Bad Boy?” Frankie whispers while looking around.

“Probably smoking.” I said through a shrug.

“That little bitch needs to be ripped around, i mean forgetting his bestfriend.. or.. whatever you are to find birthday?” She leans in close for this next part.

“Although, there’s no better gift he can give you then what he gave you for your 16th.”

That’s when I splashed her uncontrollably because people were starting to look and that’s when I saw a Conrad. His hair was in his face and my heart fluttered because that was always my weakness.

“Conrad, you gonna join us?” Steven says as we all slowly gravitate towards the middle of the pool.

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“Come on Conrad, not even one swim?” Frankie speaks up. She said it in a menacing way. Gotta love it. Or hate it because he didn’t look amused and instead took his shirt off while getting in.

Damn.

“Stop staring.” Frankie whispers in my ear and I smack her shoulder.

“Hey, how about round two of chicken from Belly’s birthday?” Taylor suggests. I knew she and Frankie would just fight over Steven’s shoulders.

“I’ll sit this one out. After all it’s yns birthday so you go.” Belly says while making her way to the end of the pool.

Conrad and I caught glimpses at each other. We always used to be chicken partners. Belly watches us interact with our eyes when Frankie rushes over to Steven.

“Steven—”

“You suck at chicken, Taylor?” He looks at Taylor with wide eyes and she smiles while sloshing over him quickly. Frankie looks at me and mouths “sorry” before making her way over to Jeremiah.

I shake my head because Conrad’s looking at me, “You don’t have to—”

“Yeah we don’t. He says while swimming to the other side.

Wow. What the fuck.

Anger was laced in his words, and I wanted to sob.

—

“We need to go to a party tonight.” Frankie said raiding the kitchen.

“There’s nothing I know of” Jeremiah says through a sigh.

Susannah’s dinners were always great but this year I wanted something more. My birthday was a shit show last year, a lot of things happening that led to today. Maybe that’s why Conrad was so pissy.

A smirk comes up on Belly’s face as she leans on the counter, “What if we.. I don’t know, threw a party?”

I look at Belly, eyes wide, “The moms—”

“They’re going to a book party after dinner, figured we wanted to do something with each other.” Steven butts in.

It was a crazy idea, it really was, but why not? I’ve already made so many shut decisions, what was one more?

“Okay. We need alcohol.”

Conrad just stares at all of us like we’re crazy.

“4 people go the store, not me.” Steven yells.

“I’ll stay back.” Frankie says.

“Same.” Another remark from Taylor.

So i guess it was me, Belly, Conrad, and Jeremiah going to the store. How great.

—

“Okay, so how do we do this?” Jere asks us all as we pull up to the gas station.

“Easy, I have a fake ID.” Conrad says while holding it between his two fingers. Me and Belly give him a glance before I roll my eyes at him.

“What? What’s so funny yn?” Conrad looks at me in a taunting matter and all i could do is shrug him off. He’s so crazy. Crazy, Crazy, Crazy.

“What if jumper remembers that fight you guys had at the gas station?” Jere adds.

“At least he remembers things.” I mutter thinking about Conrad this morning. To my surprise a frown surrounds Conrad’s face as he opens the door.

Just like we thought, Conrad’s ID didn’t work. I smirked at the thought of being right. Sweet victory.

Belly groans, “Leave it to me, Connie.”

Connie.

Conrad just smiled as she got out the car, and in an act of obvious jealousy, Jeremiah followed her. It was just me and Conrad in the car. The boy who will always drive me crazy.

A sigh fell from his lips which only intensified my anger towards him. What does he have to sigh for? He forgot my birthday and makes me the problem?

“What are you thinking about?” I say in a mocking manner.

“Yn, grow up.”

“God, you really are the worst.” I say while pulling my legs to my chest. I can’t look at him because I don’t see the worst, I see the best.

Minutes later, Jeremiah and Belly came out with beers and slushees in their hands.

“No fucking way.” I say as Conrad just sits there in shock. I open the car door and Belly’s smirk is written on her face.

“How the fuck did you—”

“Easy, we just talked to them.” Belly shrugs and Jeremiah puts a arm around her shoulder. Belly smiled and that’s when I noticed it.

Had they hooked up or something?

“Okay, we’ll um— me and Conrad can load this.” I say awkwardly and Conrad nods his head. Jeremiah then comes up from behind me and puts a slushee in front of me.

“I know how much you like ‘em’”

“Is it—”

“Blue raspberry mixed with cherry? Of course yn. Nights and days on the boardwalks? I remember these things. ” He says while looking at Conrad. Damn.

Conrads face drops before continuing to load the car.

Jeremiah and Belly go to help Jumper with more things while I watch Conrad load the car. I got the feeling he didn’t want my help. It was silent, too silent and the air was thick. Conrad played with his hair and that’s when I knew he was getting ready to say something.

“I thought that was our thing.” He mumbles, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear. But I did. The confusion on my face then turned to a small smirk.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know.. like that.” He says, pointing to the slushy and then looking away. He was so nervous, and it was really hard in these moments not to love him. Everything about him. I didn’t say anything though.

Jealousy was beneath Conrad’s voice as he spoke, “Since when did you and Jeremiah do stuff together.”

“I don’t know, your not the only one who did stuff with me, Conrad. You don’t own me.”

I go to walk away but he pulls at my wrist and looks at me pleadingly.

“No, that’s— that’s not what I meant. Forget it, i’m sorry okay?” His fingertips danced along mine and I couldn’t even look him in the eye. He pulled his hand up to my jaw and I began to lean into his touch. It was all I wanted. Him to be there for me, so why couldn’t he?

Why couldn’t we make it work?

“Uh, sorry if i’m interrupting something.”

I push Conrad off of me and turn to see Belly and Jeremiah staring at us, eyes wide.

“Oh— um, no.. you weren’t.” I stutter my words and Conrad’s face has that guilty look. A face I had seen many times.

“Okay, then let’s go.” Belly says coldly.

Fuck.

Before I can walk away to try and explain, I’m pulled back once again to see Conrad with a smirk on his face.

While shutting the trunk, he says, “Your wrong, actually. I am the only one who did stuff with you.” He gives me a little stare before heading to the drivers seat.

My cheeks burned and my body felt like it was on fire. Had he just said those words? We’re they real.

He still thought about it, I should’ve gone with my gut.

This was gonna be a long fucking night.

—

A/N: I’ve been pre working on this one so It’s out earlier!! Y’all were half way through this series I’m sooo sad. Biggg drama next chapter 🙏🏻

tag list: @kkrenae @callsignwidow @drikawinchester @johannelis2302nely @allnrsnz @galaxy13sworld @paytonloiselle @i-think-you-are-gr8

[aranarumei]

how much does sasaki talk about hirano?

hey everyone. I’m coming to you live with an INVESTIGATIVE REPORT about the one and only sasaki shuumei. the question above pretty much summarizes what I'm trying to find out. so I’ll expand on this under the cut. apologies in advance for any typos

—

there’s a scene that’s always made me confused ever since I first read it (which wow. I’ve been reading this manga as it updates since partly through volume 3… crazy how far its come!) and that is this sequence of two pages in the extras of Vol 7 (39.5), below:

hirano’s like “well, it’s fine to talk about me to miyano as long as you didn’t say any weird stuff about me” and sasaki goes. Silent. Now I at the time assumed like. ah sasaki’s talking about the hirano and kagiura relationshipisms. or the whole uke thing. right?

…right?

see, the thing is: when sasaki visits campus in ch 46, he asks the basketball team about a kagi-kun, and then when miyano questions him about what he was doing, he’s like “oh I just remembered hirano’s old roommate was on the basketball team,” and then refuses to even tell miyano his name. so it’s like… did sasaki EVER talk about hirano’s roommate to Miyano? like of his own initiative? did he offer any information? so I decided that instead of just bringing that question up, I’d reread all of sasaki to miyano and get my answer.

disclaimer that this deals with exclusively the manga: I have this hidden fear that I’m going to post this and get a reply like “oh this is 50% of the entire novel content” but! the scene in question comes up in the manga! I think it ought to then refer to an event in the manga! but seriously if stuff like that does come up in the novel feel free to chime in. also bc I was rereading the whole manga I have Other Thoughts Too but. those can hopefully marinate their way into other posts.

ch 2:

miyano: But I saw you! I saw you laughing as you chatted with a first-year boy from class 1A in the basketball club with a lovely smile!

this does not count. miyano brings this up to hirano himself. in fact a lot of miyano putting hirano into bl contexts happens In Front Of Hirano’s Face. not really a conversation starter for sasaki. it does make ch 46 way more interesting bc it means like. sasaki has remembered that kagiura’s on the basketball team to the point that he wants to check in on him? whereas miyano like Knows this info yet never really pursues it. suppose it’d be awkward to just go up and try to find him without knowing his name, though.

ch 4:

sasaki says “but hirano can handle alcohol fine” which is perfectly on topic since they were just discussing how sasaki can’t handle it. it’s miyano that spins into bl fantasies afterwards. also hirano is right there in this situation. does not count.

ch 5:

sasaki: Hirano’s playing Oiwa-san for the haunted house. Want to see? He’s crossdressing and wearing a wig.

this does count. sasaki is bringing up hirano and telling miyano something that miyano would totally get excited about. it is, I would say, not brought up out of nowhere, since they discuss crossdressing right before. unrelated to this I would love to see the image of sasaki as hanako-san of the toilet.

ch 6:

sasaki asks about miyano’s love life and when miyano says that he’s not romantically interested in anyone around here, and sasaki asks “what about hirano?” miyano says he ships him with his roommate and the conversation ends there. I would say this also does not count—yeah, he’s perhaps bringing up hirano as a romantic prospect, but I think this is more sasaki like. being jealous more than it is using him as a reason to talk to miyano. he’s like. a pretty jealous guy.

ch 8:

sasaki tells miyano that his grades suck and hirano’s been tutoring him. this does not count.

ch 11:

sasaki says “don’t you prefer black-haired ukes?” and “ah, you mean like hirano?” when miyano says he prefers manly ukes. this does count. while it’s in the topic of conversation, there’s not a real reason he has to bring hirano up. plus, he even continues it with “hirano’s pretty tall. can he still not be a seme?” so it’s using hirano to keep a conversation going with miyano, but I will note it’s not what starts the conversation.

ch 13:

sasaki talks about hirano getting banned from doing the ball toss. this does not count.

ch 24.5:

“ooh, if it was hirano, it would be taiko” says sasaki when miyano brings up all the girl names that he and his classmates would have. this does not count. it’s a natural extension of the various female names they’ve been talking about, sasaki included, and hirano’s their mutual friend.

ch 33:

sasaki brings up hirano’s dedication to studying and how he says that getting accepted to university isn’t the finish line. says hirano’s pretty cool for that mindset. this does not count.

ch 41:

sasaki says "haha, yikes! hirano was a terrible influence!" when miyano tells him about kuresawa getting a piercing. this does not count. it’s also after graduation, where the scene happened.

ch 42.5:

sasaki is like wow I can't believe hirano's roommate does THAT in the mornings to miyano, regarding vol 2 of sasaki to miyano. however this kind of thing isn't quite canonical since they know there are books being published about them so. this does not count.

halloween 2018 extra:

miyano asks if sasaki's friends got their items confiscated, and sasaki replies by saying that hirano's in charge of confiscation for their class, so their class had the idea to overwhelm him. this does not count.

dvd extra 4:

sasaki tells miyano about how they ripped the wallpaper on accident, and once he said it kind of gave it a badboy feel, they started doing it on purpose. hirano participated in it too. this does not count.

I’ve probably missed some, but we can see that out of all of these situations, only TWO are actually what I’d qualify as “weird” by hirano’s metrics. unless sasaki talking about the wild stuff Hirano gets up to includes his ball toss strategy and him ripping up wallpaper. then it’s four. my point is that sasaki says it’s “a lot” when it’s not. so… why is that?

I’ve been mulling over a couple of ideas regarding this, but I kind of don’t want to offer up my own interpretations first? plus when I tried writing my answer I spun off into a really bad tangent, so… post ends here. hope we all learned something here!

[zweetpea]

Gender Neutral Reader 

Short blurb/Drabble thing 

Giving gifts is hard. It’s even harder when you want to get them for the man who has everything. Simple, you’ll make him something. 

“Happy holidays, Honey!”you greet him on the morning of your gift exchange. “I didn’t know what to buy you so I just made you some Kartoshka.” 

He smiles and kisses your forehead. “Thank you darling! I’m so sorry, the delivery men have gotten trapped in the storm so they’ll be a bit late with your presents.” 

“Presents, as in plural? You didn’t have to get me so much. I’ll feel bad that I only got you this.” 

He picks you up and holds you. “Darling, I have you. That’s a gift no one else can ever have.” Your face grows hot at his actions. He just carries you to his couch and you two cuddle. 

“Wow! This tree is so pretty!” Little cheeps come from the branches as a bird flutters out. 

“I know how much you like birds, so I got you a partridge and he wouldn’t leave the pear tree, so I just took it.” 

“This is wonderful. Thank you.” You smile and lean up to kiss his lips. 

——

The next morning during breakfast two turtle doves flew into the dining room and landed on your shoulders. 

“Ah they’re here. Do you like them, love?” Your boyfriend walks over to you. 

“What am I supposed to do with them?” 

“You may do whatever you please. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

——

The third day of the storm you were play with your new pets in the greenhouse when three new birds rush in from the main house. 

“Three hens? I know I love birds but I’m starting to feel like he’s spoiling me.” 

——

The next morning you were in bed snuggling with your boyfriend when four colly birds fly into your lap and wake the two of you up. 

“Are you kidding me?” He groans. 

“Another one of your gifts?” You giggle. 

“They were supposed to go to the sanctuary, I suppose that new order wasn’t able to be processed with the storm.” 

You shift yourself into his lap and kiss him deeply. “You’re too sweet to me.” 

——

The day after you and your wonderful boyfriend were cuddling by the fire in his study when he just suddenly asks you something. 

“Wanna get married?” 

“Huh?” 

“I’ve been thinking about marrying you for a while now, my plans for a proper proposal have flown out the window so I might as well just ask. Wanna get married?” 

“I’d love to.” You smile and kiss him so passionately. 

——

The storm had stopped so he took you down to the sanctuary where your new birds were staying. 

“Everything in here is yours.” He told you. 

“Everyone move! We got eight pregnant geese and we need to get these eggs out!” One of the workers rushed. 

“Eight geese? And they’re all laying eggs?” You ask shocked. 

“How did they even get pregnant? I didn’t have any males around them, I don’t think.” Your Fiancé freaks out. 

“I think it’s wonderful. I’m just surprised by it.” 

——

“Thank you for taking me back here. I know we just came here yesterday but I want to make sure that those geese are okay.” 

“Of course my love.” 

Along with the six geese there were now seven swans. 

“Oh good they’re here too.” 

“You even got me swans?” 

“Mhm. I didn’t want to get too much, because I didn’t want to scare you away. I’ll get more for you next year I promise.” 

“No, really it’s okay.” 

——

The day after, you were called into your fiancé’s office. 

“Now that we’re going to be married, I want you to have your own staff. Please choose any eight of the many I have lined up for interviews today.” 

“Huh?” He sits you down and leaves you with the head butler. 

——

Over the next four days you and your fiancé planed a ball to announce your engagement. There were 9 percussionists and 10 woodwinds. 

And over the course of the night of the ball 11 couples came over to congratulate the two of you. 

And at the end of the night it was just you, a regular civilian, dancing with your true love, a man wealthy enough to give you the world. 

“The best present you’ve given me is your heart.” You smile at him, kissing him lovingly on the lips.

(This was meant for Pantalone but can work with any rich man)

(Based on the song 12 days of Christmas, so he’s the 12th lord a leaping)

[allthingsfangirl101]

Desperate First Kiss–Keys

Working for a video game company has pros and cons. Your job is always needed, but you sit in front of a computer all day long. You have great insurance, but you're surrounded by lonely guys who think they're God's gift to women.

You get fun nicknames, but they usually are based on something embarrassing. Not anyone else's nicknames though. Just mine.

I walked into work, instantly tucking my head and slumping my shoulders. I tightened my grip on my bag as I walked over to my nook. I've been working as a graphic designer for about two years, and I wonder every day if it's worth it.

"Hey, Y/N."

I looked up and smiled when I saw Keys walking over with a cup of coffee in his hands.

"Hi, Keys."

"Did you see that accident on your way in?"

"See it?" I scoffed. "Why do you think I'm 45 minutes late?"

He laughed as he started walking with me to my desk. "Don't worry. Antwan doesn't usually get here until 11. Besides, it's not like any of us are going to rat you out."

"Thanks," I laughed.

Keys was the only one in the entire company that doesn't call me by that embarrassing nickname. In fact, he tried to stop others from calling me it.

"Hey, KV," Mouser teased as he walked up to us.

"Come on," Keys sighed, slightly taking a step toward me.

"It's okay, Keys," I whispered. "KV?" I bit back my smirk as I turned toward Mouser. "KV? Really? You're too lazy to say the whole thing?"

"Do you prefer me to call you Kissing Virgin?"

"I prefer you to call me by my name," I scoffed. "It's shorter than that damn nickname."

"Where's the fun in that?" He laughed as he walked away. I took a shaky breath, trying to get rid of the lump that just formed in my throat.

"Y/N," Keys started.

"Wow," I laughed harshly. "I've been here not even ten minutes and already want to quit."

I started to walk away but Keys quickly grabbed my hand and pulled me back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I really wish I could get them to stop calling you that. It's only Mouser and a few other guys."

"It's fine," I tried to shrug off. Keys shook his head, tightening his grip on my hand.

"Please don't lie to me, Y/N," he said under his breath.

"Keys," I sighed, "I have a lot of work to do before the New Year's Eve party tonight."

I finally pulled my hand out of his grip and walked back to my desk. The rest of the day, it felt like whenever I looked up, Keys was watching me. During lunch, I went and got a sandwich from across the street. When I got back, I kept my head down and finished my work.

Finally, it was time to go home and get ready for the party. I started to pack up and as I stood up, Keys was walking toward me. He fell in sync with me as I started to leave.

"Are you going tonight?" He asked.

"Maybe," I shrugged. "I probably won't stay the whole time."

"It won't be that bad," he said, trying to be optimistic. He saw the look on my face and laughed. "You're right. It's going to be horrible. Let's stick together."

"Sounds good."

                                * * * * *

I checked how I looked in my dress before leaving my apartment. The entire way back to Soonami Studios, I debated about turning around. I could ring in 2023 by myself in my apartment. It would be much better than ringing it in with a bunch of drunk coders and designers.

I walked into the building and headed upstairs. The thoughts of wanting to turn around continued the entire elevator ride up. The doors opened and I almost hit the Lobby button. The only thing that stopped me. . .

"Y/N!" Keys laughed. He grabbed two glasses of champagne and met me at the elevator.

"You look beautiful. I'm glad you decided to come," he smiled as he handed me one of the glasses.

"Still kinda on the fence," I sighed as I took a sip. I laughed when he reached out his free hand for me.

"We'll stick together."

Just like he promised, Keys stayed by my side the entire night. Whenever someone tried to call me by the nickname, he interrupted and corrected them.

It was ten minutes to midnight and I decided I didn't want to be here when that clock hit midnight.

"You okay?" Keys asked.

"I think. . . I think I'm gonna head home."

"Okay," he said, sounding slightly disappointed. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I said shakily. Instead of telling him the truth, I said, "I don't want to be driving past midnight. That's when all the drunks come out."

"I can drive you," he suggested.

"It's alright," I said a little too quickly. "Have a good night, Keys."

"You too, Y/N."

Instead of going home, I walked into the employee lounge and grabbed a coffee.

"You leaving already, Kissing Virgin?"

I turned around, not hiding my anger anymore. "Mouser," I said slowly, "go to hell."

I dropped my coffee in the sink, not having even taken a sip. I tried to walk past him, but he stepped in front of me.

"Let me go," I said, my voice breaking.

"Y/N," he sighed.

"Don't," I cut him off. "You. . . You're the one who. . . You started it."

"It was just a. . ."

"A what?" I scoffed. "A joke? What kind of joke takes a girl's biggest insecurity and flaunts it in front of the entire company?!"

"I'm sorry," Mouser sighed. "Really. I'm sorry."

"Save it," I said, my voice getting caught in my throat.

"What if I said I could help you fix that insecurity?"

"How?"

                                * * * * *

I woke up the next morning, with a weird feeling in my stomach. I slowly got out of bed and made myself a cup of coffee. I grabbed my computer and sat on my couch, turning on a random show. I could hear my phone ringing in my room, but I didn't bother to get it as I started looking for a new job.

A few hours later, I had given up looking and applying for jobs. I was laying on the couch, falling asleep, when I heard a knock on the door. I sighed, forcing myself to get up. When I got to the door, I wasn't expecting him.

"What are you doing here, Keys?"

"I've been calling you all morning," he said, glancing me over.

"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat.

"You feeling okay?" He asked, stepping a little closer to me.

"I'm fine."

"Y/N. . ."

"I'm just hungover," I quickly lied.

"Y/N, you only had one glass of champagne last night," he sighed.

"How did you know that?" I asked, my voice breaking.

"I just. . . I did," he stuttered. He cleared his throat before asking, "Have you eaten anything?"

I wrapped my arms around myself and shook my head. Keys sighed as he grabbed one of my hands and led me into my kitchen. He had me sit down and started making me something to eat. With everything he did, I couldn't stop watching him. My conversation with Mouser before I left last night replayed in my head over and over again.

"How was the rest of the party?" I asked.

Keys sent me a look before letting out a small laugh. "To be honest," he said, handing me a plate with a sandwich on it, "I left about thirty seconds after midnight."

"No New Year Kiss?" I tried to sound light-hearted but it came out more forced.

"Who am I supposed to kiss?" Keys laughed. "Mouser?"

"I have to tell you something," I blurted out.

He looked up at me and studied me for a second. He finally walked over and sat next to me.

"You can tell me anything, Y/N. You know that."

"And you promise not to judge me?"

"Of course not," he said instantly. "I would never. . ."

"I let Mouser kiss me last night."

Keys didn't say anything for a few seconds. You could practically see the wheels turning as he figured it out.

"I'm sorry," Keys said slowly. "Wait, you let who kiss you?"

"I know it was dumb!" I jumped up. I started pacing around the room as I continued to mumble. "I'm tired of everyone making fun of me, calling me the Kissing Virgin. So I was desperate. Big deal. It's not like there was anyone else lining up to take that bullet."

"I would've."

We both froze.

I turned around to see Keys looking surprised. It was like even he didn't think he was going to say that.

"What do you mean?" I asked under my breath.

"Nothing," he stuttered.

"Keys," I said, his name getting stuck in my throat. "Please tell me. What did you mean when you said you would've taken that bullet?"

"You know what I meant," he whispered, slowly stepping closer to me. He reached forward, grabbing my hands in his. I instantly recognized how warm his hands felt.

"I'm not sure I do," I whispered. "I mean. . . I don't want to be wrong about. . ."

Keys leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. My breath got stuck in my throat the second his lips touched mine. Even though this kiss was soft and a little hesitant, it felt way stronger. I slowly started kissing him back. When I did, he deepened the kiss. We broke apart when neither one of us could breathe.

"Wow," I whispered.

"Mouser was just practice," Keys said with a small smirk. "That was your real first kiss."

"Hopefully not the only one."

Keys was about to kiss me again, but I gently stopped him. "Is something wrong?" He asked, his voice soft.

"I need to confess something," I said with a small laugh.

"You kissed Antwan?" Keys joked.

"No," I smirked. "Close though."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't kiss Mouser."

"I don't understand," he said slowly.

"Mouser and I didn't kiss last night," I explained. "He offered to help me with the nickname, but not by kissing me."

"Then how?"

"By telling me of someone he knew who wanted to kiss me but no because he wanted to win a workplace bet."

"He told you about the bet?" Keys asked.

"Yes," I laughed. "But that's not the point of what I just said."

"I know," he said with a small chuckle. "I just thought. . ."

I cut him off by standing on my toes and pressing my lips to his. Keys instantly deepened the kiss as he wrapped his arms around me. We laughed, breaking the kiss when we stumbled and almost fell.

"If you're no longer a kissing virgin," Keys whispered, "what do you think Mouser is going to change your nickname to?"

"He actually told me he had a few ideas."

"Oh yeah?" Keys laughed as he pulled me in closer. "And what ideas did he have?"

"His favorite is one I actually like too," I smirked.

"What's that?"

"Keys' Girl."

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. He pulled away, his face inches from mine.

"I'm okay with that," he whispered.

"Me too."

He smiled at me as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. I felt my face burning as his hand lingered.

"Happy New Year, Y/N."

"Happy New Year, Keys."