#except i am always lying because i always know

[httpkaulitz]

Fluff to smut~~female reader x BILL 2011 era

Bill comes home vert excited since he bought himself some new accessories (chokers) he shows them to her and she loves them on him , she Confesses that she always wanted to try them out but never had the courage to.

Bill excited about it helps her try them out but yn can't help but get distacted by the way he touches her ,noticing that he suggests her a fun little game: every time she moans louder tge choker gets tighter

LOVE YOUR FICS SORRY IF ITS LONG

Playing a game

tysm love <3 It's good when you guys asking with details so I'm sure I'm writing what you want hahaha

PAIRINGS: Bill 2011 x Female reader

CONTENT: Fluff, Smut

SYNOPSIS: Bill and you play a fun game.

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, p in v, kissing, fingering, choking

You were lying in bed reading when you heard the door open and after a few seconds Bill's voice echoed through the house. “Libie?”

"I am here." You shouted back before marking the page you were reading and closing the book.

Bill entered the room almost jumping with excitement and you couldn't help but smile. He had a meeting with the band earlier and he said would do some shopping afterwards. He has always loved shopping, much more than you. He loved choosing different accessories that could enhance his look.

“I see the shopping was good.” You said and saw him nod as he approached the bed.

He leaned over and gave you a quick kiss before sitting on the bed and starting to open the packages. More than shopping, he loved showing you the things he bought.

You looked closely at the different accessories he had purchased. Chokers of several different types. Some with chain details and even shiny stones.

Excited, Bill took one of them and put it around his neck. You couldn't help but smile. He looked like a child eager to try out a new toy.

“It's very beautiful.” You picked up another one that had caught your attention the most and showed it to him. “Try this one.”

Bill quickly took off the choker that was around his neck and grabbed the one you had chosen.

“Did you like this one?” He asked as he put it on. The black leather material with silver chain details suited him perfectly. Exactly as you thought.

“Yes, it is very beautiful.” You said distractedly thinking about how beautiful the contrast of the dark leather was against the pale skin of his neck.

“I didn’t think you liked that stuff.” Bill always thought your excitement was just because he was sharing moments with you and not because you were interested in those kinds of things. You were always very simple to be honest, the few accessories you wore were basic and discreet.

"I like. Actually, I've always wanted to try it, but I don't know, I don't think it suits me.” You confessed shyly.

"What? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Before you could even respond Bill was taking you by the hand and pulling you closer to the mirror. “Let’s try them on you, love.”

He went back to bed and picked out some of the many chokers he had bought. You waited patiently standing in front of the mirror. It didn't take long for him to appear behind you again.

Bill brushed your hair away from your neck, the contact of his fingertips made your skin crawl and you sighed. You could see him in the mirror's reflection intent on his task.

He wrapped the accessory around your neck. The choker was similar to the one he was wearing, except that instead of silver chains, it had transparent stones that reflected the light.

You couldn't deny that it looked very nice, even though it wasn't the kind of accessory you would choose for yourself.

"Perfect." Bill whispered absently, watching you almost hypnotized.

His hand wrapped around your neck for a few seconds before sliding down past your collarbone. You sighed and bit your lip to stop any sound from coming out.

“Let’s try another one.” Bill said excitedly. He seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on you.

Every time his fingers gently touched your neck you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

He finished buckling the other choker and you could see him smiling in the reflection of the mirror.

“This one is even more beautiful.” He exclaimed in excitement. His large hands grabbed your hips tightly, pinning your body to his before he buried his face in your neck.

Being caught off guard, you moaned loudly before you could stop yourself. You brought your hand to your mouth in embarrassment and felt Bill smiling against your neck.

“Let’s try one more.” He whispered against your ear. His hot breath made you want to grind against him, feeling more needy than ever.

“Bill.” You whimpered knowing this wasn't about trying on accessories anymore, he was playing with you.

“Just one more, love.” He squeezed your hip bone and felt your body writhe against him.

"Let's play a game." He said calmly as he placed the other choker around your neck. “The louder you moan, the tighter the choker will get.”

It was an unfair game, he knows you can't help yourself. He holds your chin and turns your face towards him. Hot breath on your face and brown eyes watching you. He leans closer towards you and you close your eyes and you part your lips ready to kiss him.

But instead of the kiss you hear him say. “So what do you say?” Bill has a small playful smile on his lips, clearly enjoying playing with you.

You nod, feeling your cheeks burning with embarrassment. You couldn't say no if you wanted to, which you didn't.

“That’s my girl.” Bill hummed before kissing you.

The touch of his lips were soft but firm. Pressing himself against you, Bill ran his hands down your body feeling every curve under his fingers. You opened your lips slightly, letting your tongue slip over your bottom lip as you let out a muffled moan, burying your fingers in Bill's hair.

"You get more delicious every time I taste it." He mused, making an appreciative noise in his throat as he brushed his lips over your chin.

Your heart gave a small excited jump in your chest as you felt the accessory tighten around your neck, loving the feeling of electricity that coursed through your body.

Bill wrapped one arm around your waist, his large hand passed over your belly in a sensual caress and moved up towards your breast before leaving a firm grip. You whimpered against his mouth and felt him smile before tightening the choker a little more.

“I barely touched you, love.” He whispered looking at you. His brown eyes shining with smug mischief.

“Bill, please.” You whimpered looking at him through the mirror.

The grip on your neck wasn't enough to choke you, but it was a vivid reminder of what was to come. The hand on your breast played and squeezed your nipple mercilessly. And you didn't know what to do other than press your lips together to stop any more moans from escaping.

“What do you want love?” Bill asked before leaning down and starting to kiss your neck.

You could feel the heat of his body against you and his hard cock against your ass. The hand that was on your chest slid back to your stomach.

“I-I-” You started, but were cut off when you felt his hand wander down the front of your shorts. He pulled the elastic waistband and slid his hand inside easily.

Bill slid your panties to the side and dipped a finger between your soaked folds, you had to press your lips together tighter to stop yourself from moaning.

“Open your legs wider.” Bill commanded and you obeyed him promptly like a trained puppy.

Then he was sinking two fingers into you as he watched your face in the mirror's reflection. Bill smiled as he saw your eyes roll back and your mouth open in a silent scream. For a moment he felt like it was a shame that you hadn't made noise so he could tighten the accessory around your neck.

“So wet and hot and tight.” His fingers curled deeper into you with obscene, slick ease. "Perfect to me."

You moaned loudly, your body falling forward a little as you rocked your hips against his fingers.

Bill smiled as he tightened the choker a little more. He adds another finger, feeling your wetness continue to soak his fingers as he moves them quickly. He feels you squirm more against him as your breathing quickens, his cock begins to strain against the zipper of his pants. You can feel how hard he is against your ass.

You're biting your lip so hard you feel like you might tear the skin. Bill adds another finger and you feel your legs tremble involuntarily, the sensation of being completely full makes your body burn with pleasure and pain. Your breathing quickens and forms a fog in the mirror.

"Bill, please, it's too much." You whimper pleadingly, feeling the material around your neck tighten a little more.

“Come on baby, we both know you can take more than this.” The words made you shiver and the knot in your stomach tighten.

You can still feel his fingers moving quickly and deeply inside you, taking away any form of concentration you wanted to muster to not moan.

Watching you in the reflection of the mirror, Bill ran his tongue between his lips. You had your mouth open, your eyes closed, and your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Your face was driving him crazy. It was like a work of art painted in several different tones, with colors that shouldn't mix, but that in the end make the entire work unique.

He knows you're close to cumming, he can feel it by the way your pussy clenches around his fingers and the way your body shakes and your back arches. You scream in uncontrolled pleasure. Your wetness runs down his fingers, Bill smiles looking at you as he tightens the choker making you gasp in surprise for a moment. He continues fucking you with his fingers until you close your legs from overstimulation and only then does he remove his hand from you, sucking on his fingers as you face each other together on the mirror's reflection.

Your legs are still shaking when Bill pulls you onto the bed, he throws you onto the mattress and starts taking off his clothes quickly, impatiently.

Bill smiled approaching you, he left a trail of kisses on your neck, collarbone and breasts. You arched your back when you felt Bill lean in to kiss you furiously, moaning into the kiss. His lips made their way to your neck again at your jaw line, leaving kisses everywhere.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered as his hands touched your breasts, massaging them and gently pinching your nipples through your shirt making a moan leave your lips.

Bill's fingertips slid down to your stomach. He pulled your shorts down to your ankles, leaned in biting the elastic of your panties pulling them down with just his teeth, never taking his eyes off of your. He crawled over you kissing you briefly as his hands parted your legs, opening them.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream when you felt him slide inside you all at once. Pushing deeper into your throbbing walls, Bill builds up a slow, torturous pace. You close your eyes, tilting your head back as he speeds up and thrusts faster and you feel yourself approaching your second orgasm in pure ecstasy, you feel the slow burn of your belly.

Arms wrapped around his neck, you thread your fingers into his soft hair as your breathing becomes shallow, reducing it to a weak sigh in the back of your throat. You feel dizzy, delirious as you writhe against Bill, eagerly opening yourself to him without shame. You feel yourself sinking, falling into madness of the purest kind as you feel your orgasm building.

The feeling of suffocation makes you open your eyes. When you meet his eyes, dark and mischievous, it makes a pleasurable feeling stir inside you. When Bill pushes himself harder into you, just to tease you, you see how much he is loving this game. Pulling you closer, Bill swallows your moans, making you feel drunk and crazy as he enjoys your pussy clenching around his cock.

"Bill." You didn't recognize your own voice, choked and bathed with need. You start to feel dizzy, your body shaking from the mix of pleasure and air restriction.

Bill quickly slid one of his hands to the strap of your shirt and pulled it down freeing your breasts that bounced every time he pushed himself hard against you.

Bill wrapped his hand in your hair and pulled you closer, he pressed his lips against yours a little more vigorously than necessary. Sliding his tongue along your bottom lip. He got lost between the breathless moans and the loud sound of the headboard banging against the wall. With your nails, you scratched the skin on Bill's back, burning him, marking him just below the shoulders.

He feels the cuts, feels his skin breaking and the sting of salty sweat. But you're so wet and hot and good and tight around him that he doesn't care.

He lowers his head to one of your breasts, sucking the soft skin hard. You moaned loudly, feeling his tongue piercing slide deliciously over your sensitive nipple.

“Bill, please, I can’t breathe.” Your voice was strangled as he tightened the choker around your neck.

"I'm sorry, baby." He whispers breathlessly before ripping the accessory from your neck and throwing it somewhere in the room.

You suck in air, breathing deeply. He bit his lip, watching you as he felt the deep, low pressure in his abdomen, the sweet, throbbing pain, taking over all his senses, building just beneath the surface.

Bill heard her heavy breathing, her soft, needy, pleading moans. Desperate and panting as you writhed beneath him. Your body lit up as you felt your moment of release. Bill leaned in kissing you, swallowing your moans like they were the best thing he had ever experienced.

He could feel everything, your shudder around him as you arched your back against him, your nipples hard against his chest. In the ecstasy of your orgasms, he increased his pace, continued to penetrate you, madly, blindly until he heard his name leave your lips as he spilled himself inside you.

He fell on top of you making you gasp under his weight. And despite being a little claustrophobic, you loved feeling his entire body pressed against his.

“Maybe I should try your accessories more often.” You whispered as you ran your hand through his hair gently.

Bill smiled against your neck before saying. “You definitely should.”

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #tokio hotel smut #2000s #tom kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer

[dreamwritersworld]

His daughter! (Sully family x Reader) Part 4!

reminder to PLEASE give feedback either in the comments or inbox :) ALSO you should really read my rant at the end of the story after the “!🎀!” It gives more details to the story that you may not have noticed :)

The pair continued their relationship as though nothing was said to Y/n about it. As a matter of fact Y/n wanted to put all the words her dad said in the back of her mind but she knew she’d have to tell Ao’nung…she just didn’t know how or who to ask for advice. That’s when Ronal came in.

Y/n walked into the Maui extremely nervous, she had been coming in weekly to learn more about their culture and healing methods from Ronal. However this time was different, Y/n couldn’t hold in the secret anymore. She felt sick to her stomach about it and it only wrecked her even more when Ronal kept bringing their relationship up…

“So..How are you and Ao’nung? Getting along quite well I see!”

“Yes! We have been..”

Y/n smiled slightly which immediately set off a ringer in Ronal’s mind. The smile that Ronal grew to know so well felt tired and fake. You can only assume it was a Mother’s instinct because Ronal could feel the stress and worry radiate off of the young child’s body, she knew something was wrong. In the beginning of Y/n’s arrival Ronal must admit she didn’t like the idea of the relationship but Y/n was quite easy to love. In many ways Ronal felt protective over Y/n and Lo’ak the longer they had stayed over or showed their love for her kids..she found it beautiful. So Ronal felt comfortable to simply ask whatever question she pleased…

“Something’s wrong. I can feel your stress, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing just..just tired.”

“mmh if I knew better I’d think you’re lying.”

Y/n didn’t know how to respond she stayed quiet and Ronal let her eat her guilt up. Ronal knew that if she let the silence remain eventually Y/n will confide with her.

“…I am.”

“What is it Y/n?”

“I must admit I have fallen to love your son beyond measure..but I’m so frustrated.”

“Oh I have known about that for the longest, but frustrated? Why?”

“Please keep this between us..but my father refutes the idea of us even being together. We got into an argument. We always do except this time he requested me to stop seeing him outside of our usual practices. I couldn’t handle it so I fought back, I fought back for at least some control, some aspect of my life.”

Ronal stood in silence as the girl struggled to push back through her cracked voice and heavy heart. It was easy to see that Y/n quite literally had it all without having anything to call hers. For the first time Ronal’s speculation had been confirmed, Y/n truly was trapped in a bubble of her fathers consciousness. To say that Ronal was upset was an understatement, she was infuriated. How could Jake not like her child? How could he ask- no demand Y/n to stop speaking to him? He should be grateful for all they’ve done for him, for them. regardless, Ronal knew not to think of it that way. Because at the end of the day her children found love that they so desperately deserved.

“I am sorry Y/n..I understand I won’t make a change to your heavy heart but I ask you to please not run away from something you deserve.”

“…of course not. I could never.”

“good.”

That’s how the conversation ended, they continued to practice and learn but the both of them had uneven tension in their hearts..once it ended Y/n quickly said her goodbyes and ran over to meet Ao’nung once again.

There the couple laid in a hidden cave they considered their own. Holding each others hand, touching and loving each other, secure in the knowledge that they would never let go. All Ao’nung could think about when he looked at Y/n and the way she perceived life and took all the beauty of it to channel through herself, was the way he loved her. He loved how silly she was, how contagious her laugh was, her love for the environment and Eywas creations. Nothing made him more shy than seeing her rush to do chores with her hair pinned up as she cleaned, in a complete rush to see him. He can’t even forget how much of a daredevil she could be, always willing to challenge him to try something new. He loved her dearly..

It was up until the moment he arrived home and overheard a conversation between his mother and father that for the first time he got mad at Y/n..

“Can you believe it? We give him and his family a home and he still decides to keep his daughter on a chain? He can’t even give us the decency of respect to allow his daughter to see my son!”

“Ronal please..we will figure this out soon but this should not worry you. Y/n is practically a women, she will do as she pleases-“

“Except she’s not! Not in their eyes, she’s not a grown woman yet. That means that Jake will continue to do whatever he pleases to keep himself content-“

“Just because he requested no relationship with Ao’nung doesn’t mean she’ll listen. They’re just kids. That Jake doesn’t understand that regardless of what he says Y/n no longer bothers to care!”

“You should’ve heard her Tonowari…she was so distraught. It sounded like her heart was being torn in two. I don’t know what she’ll do..but she hasn’t told Ao’nung. She seemed like she refused to tell him, to scared to hurt him-“

“Yes but that’s her decision. She will do as she pleases. I understand that’s her father and yes he is wrong but if she does listen to him, so be it. Ao’nung will get over it, he always does.”

“No Tonowari this is different. I can feel it. I just can’t allow her to drop him because of what he father demands.”

“Well we need to drop it. She’ll figure it out and soon enough we’ll know on their own accord. We should head to bed my love.”

That night Ao’nung went to bed extremely frustrated at Y/n for never confiding in him about the situation. It felt as though she was simply playing with his heart and testing to see how far she was able to go before she could break things off. So the next morning he didn’t even go looking for her instead waiting for her to come to him…

Ao’nung had been working on the shore with a couple of his friends not even rushing to get his chores done so he could see Y/n. That was until a familiar sweet voice came looking for him..

“Ao’nung! You’re not done? How come they gave you more to do than usual?”

“I don’t know we’ll talk later.”

Normally Y/n wouldn’t think about it much but the way Aonung’s tone was and the way he dismissed her did not sit well with Y/n.

“..ok.? Come meet me when your done then.”

“Yea sure whatever.”

Y/n looked at him with hurt and frustration in her eyes, she felt as though he didn’t care to speak with her or acknowledge her so she walked about without saying a thing. She felt embarrassed and ashamed to had even gone looking for him..as she walked away she heard even more issues to worry about

“Woah! Trouble in paradise?”

“Shut up! She’ll hear you-“

“Just saying! I mean you always rush out of here-“

“Just shut up I don’t want to hear it!”

Had Ao’nung found out what was discussed between her and his mother yesterday? Was he unforgiving to her now that he knows? Y/n didn’t find out the issue and instead had to go searching for him again. Yes, despite her pridefulness she wouldn’t ever dear to fall asleep mad at him.

“Ao’nung!”

There he was, walking home across the sandy beach without a care in the world or at least that’s what Y/n thought. He had stopped for a moment and that’s all Y/n needed for her to catch up to him and pull him to the side.

“Whats wrong?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“Ao’nung please stop it, I know something’s wrong. I just wish you would talk or open up to me a little more. You were off this entire day, you never go without speaking to me.”

“How about you Y/n?! You never even thought to tell me about your father!”

Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise at his raised voice but with complete understanding of why. However this wasn’t the way to go about it..at least not for her.

“I did want to tell you! I was going to tell you, I just didn’t know how.”

“Yea and you told my mother?!”

“Because she asked me! I couldn’t lie!”

“Well I wish you had!”

“I didn’t mean to-“

“But you did! You did Y/n! And you didn’t even care to tell me later on either!”

“Ao’nung im Sorry! Yes it bothered me but it doesn’t change anything!”

“What do you mean? Your father hates me-“

“He doesn’t-“

“But he does. He doesn’t want me to ever be with you so much that you argued over me.”

“We always argue-“

“That doesn’t change anything Y/n. He told you not to see me more than friends anymore and you allowed this to continue knowing I love you.”

They stared at each other in silence both with tears. Ao’nung was so upset that he couldn’t even bare to acknowledge what he had just confessed and Y/n was too bottled up in her own head about the situation at hand.

“Well that’s because I love you too! So what if he doesn’t want me to be with you? I don’t care! Ok? I don’t and if you don’t want to fight for that fine.”

“Fine.”

Ao’nung couldn’t admit it but it wasn’t fine…but the moment he saw Y/n stand up to walk away he ran as though she was taking his heart with her.

Y/n ran off to the deck calling for an ilu to take her completely out of sight and far away from Ao’nung. When it had just arrived Ao’nung caught her.

“Get off the ilu.”

“No.”

“Get off the ilu.”

“No. And I don’t appreciate being ordered.”

“Get off the ilu Y/n.”

“Why so you can argue with me?”

“Get off the damn ilu Y/n!”

“No, I am leaving. You can talk to me when you are calm but Ao’nung let this be said, you will not disrespect or raise your voice at me.”

“Y/n I have every right-“

“No! You said you were fine with us not speaking anymore so be it! I’m fine with it too!”

Ao’nung absolutely can see straight through the emotional white lie because Y/n voice had cracked and her eyes had watered once again.

“Y/n please. Stop.”

“No! I’m upset! I’m upset at you for not understanding! I didn’t try to lie or hold a secret in! I was going to tell you I just didn’t know how. It didn’t even matter-“

“Stop. It did matter because it made you upset.”

“Well then I’ll deal with it on my own-“

“No Y/n. That’s for us to fix, not for you to decide on your own.”

“Ao’nung please. My father would never allow me to be with you, not yet. Can we just agree to be a secret for a little bit longer please. You are all I have, you are all I get to enjoy to myself.”

“Y/n you should understand you are asking a lot.”

“I know but please. I just want this part of my life for myself..”

“Forever-“

“No! I want to be able to show you off proudly but not right now please. My father wouldn’t allow it. He just needs to see you more ok? In a better light.”

“Better light? Y/n please.”

“Im serious. If he got to see you more from my point of view he’d be fine, just promise not to get into any trouble with the boys and we should be ok.”

“Im am future leader of the clan Y/n I think im ok.”

“I know but we were once future leaders too so that role doesn’t hold much to him anymore. please Ao’nung don’t be upset and be patient with me.”

“Ok..I will be.”

“…promise?”

“promise.”

“ok! Now stop being so grumpy!”

That’s when Ao’nung was yanked into the ocean and the two shared a kiss once more eager to stay out a little bit longer before they went home…

For awhile Jake hadn’t said anything and everyone went by as normal that week except one night Y/n decided to pass on hanging out with Ao’nung declaring that she had felt too ill to go out and insisted he went out to have fun without her while she slept. So Ao’nung had took that chance.

As teens normally would however, Ao’nung had slipped his hands onto a fruit that navi adults would use to get a little tipsy..or fully drunk. In Ao’nungs case he got drunk, and he allowed his thoughts to cloud him as he sat with his friends.

*Ao’nung’s thoughts*

..he doesn’t think im good enough for her and she doesn’t either..how could I ever be a good leader when they doubt me..?..

Whatever he was thinking got him pulled out of it, he had trashed a Maui with his friends, knocked out and was found by Tonowari. Yes, they were teenagers and considered older but under Tonowari’s authority this behavior wasn’t allowed so he scolded him. In. Front. Of. Everyone….including Jake.

Jake had overheard it and rolled his eyes at the foolishness, how could his daughter be with someone just as childish as her. Y/n watched the disappointment in his face as he listened and he gave her a know it all face in return, practically telling her “I told you so”. y/n couldn’t stand it, she asked Ao’nung for one thing. All she asked was for him not to get into any trouble and to be patient but he couldn’t keep his promise..it had been hours till Y/n would be approached by Ao’nung..

To say she was upset was an understatement. She was beyond frustrated with him.

“Y/n cmon let’s go out.”

He had tugged on her arm in an effort to pull her his way but she didn’t budge.

“No. What do you want?”

Ao’nung absolutely didn’t like that response as a matter a fact he didn’t even like the tone or attitude in her voice.

“Ok..we’re not doing this. Sit down.”

“No im working on something for your mother. Leave me alone.”

“Sit down Y/n.”

“Sitting down is not happening! So what do you want?”

“You.”

“Goodbye future ‘Olo’eyktan’. Leave.”

Y/n knew this would push his buttons, but she wanted it to. It should’ve bothered him that he was supposed to have his act together by now and that it’s ok for him to get drunk but not act like a fool! He was the future leader after all, that’s all they’ve ever trained him for and he still can’t show up for himself.

“Oh come on!”

“You do not summon me!”

“You do not get to push me out!”

“I am done. Ao’nung your father threatened you this morning! I heard it! Everyone heard it! Including my father.”

“Y/n it means nothing-“

“Nothing? You call him threatening to take your leadership nothing? Ao’nung I understand it may have seemed harmless in the moment but that is not how you act as future leader.”

“Oh so now you’re trying to control me?”

“Control? Of course not. I’m trying to help you and hold you accountable just as you would to me-“

“Well I wouldn’t! I wouldn’t if I knew it bothered you and you had enough on your plate.”

“Ao’nung please, you and I both know you would push for me to do better. And That’s all I’m doing for you.”

The couples hushed whispers got slightly louder as the conversation continued..

“Well that’s not what it feels like Y/n.”

“Ao’nung, im asking you to get better for yourself-“

“Is it that or is it the fact that you want your father to love me dearly the way you want him to, NEED him to-“

“Shh no-“

“Don’t shush me-“

“I can and I will. You’re being mean, stop it.”

Ao’nung sighed and reached out to hold onto Y/n’s waist in front of him,understanding that she still wasnt at her highest level of frustration with him.

“Ao’nung understand when I say I need you to do what you need to do to be good, to be great, to love what you do. I want that for you. You do what you need to do so I can do what I need to do.”

“You don’t think that this isn’t harder on me than it is you? You don’t think that I don’t want to dedicate myself to being the future leader? You don’t think that I want to be honorable enough to be the man that is going to be controlling this clan that might I add WILL protect you? I love you. I’m in love with you.”

Y/n fought every being in her body to give into Ao’nung right then and there instead she simply held the hand he laid on her waist and acknowledged his feelings with a small..

“..i love you too. I know that you’re trying but what you did today was not ok.”

“I understand and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that your dad had to see it.”

“My dad is not the issue-“

“Y/n, I know he was part of it. I know he probably gave you a look that got you so upset because he told you so.”

“…”

“Exactly.”

“Fine, I was slightly frustrated at that-“

“Told you so!”

“Ao’nunggggg stop it!”

The two laughed at the moment and stood in silence as Y/n continued to do the work she was instructed to do..everything was peaceful..

!🎀!

hey guyssss I really wanted to emphasize on drama and emotion this chapter . Reminder that these are two teens who are trying to navigate how to even go about being together because there are so many issues in the way with Ao’nung training, Y/n adapting and their parents.

I wanted to add in more arguments to make it slightly more realistic THEY ARE YOUNG TEENS ALMOSTTT YOUNG ADULTS so they obviously can’t be perfect 🙏 btw do you guys notice how much Ao’nung knows Y/n! He knew that she wasn’t only upset about him getting in trouble but more so upset that Jake had to see. He understood her different levels of frustration and he touched her knowing that she’d still melt to it because she wasn’t totally upset at him just disappointed. He also isn’t one to turn away from confrontation, he does well at communication with Y/n and he knows exactly how to get her to come to him and open up! 💕

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[sesamestreep]

Crozier/Fitzjames, fake amnesia

from this list of reverse tropes for fic writers. i told @firstelevens I wasn’t sure I had it in me to write fic for these two and then I went and washed my hair and while I did that, this idea popped into my head fully formed and I was bound by honor to write it down. Also it’s the first thing my brain has wanted to write in like two months, so I took that as a good sign?? Anyway, here’s…something. Kind of a Parks and Rec AU?? but also not in any serious way? It’s like…what if these dudes from The Terror worked in local government or whatever… don’t worry about logistics, I mostly wanted to write Blanky and Crozier being best friends and also talk about sobriety feelings a bunch. AND THEN I DID. only fits the prompt if you squint super hard but, regardless, please enjoy… on ao3 because why not

“So, you feel ready to go back to work tomorrow?”

Francis removes his gaze with considerable effort from the perfect red orb that is the sun sinking steadily under the horizon line across the lake and shifts it reluctantly back to Tom, who’s sitting back in his chair with his booted foot propped up on a milk crate that he got from God knows where. The sight of the boot that encases the lower half of his left leg does push a wave of guilty bile up the back of his throat but he’s already been told that if he apologizes for causing Tom to have need of it one more time, he’ll be drowned in the aforementioned lake, so he resists. Tom knows Francis is sorry about what happened and he’s chosen to forgive him, even if Francis still thinks it’s a stupid choice, second only to him befriending Francis in the first place all those years ago. Francis doesn’t know where he himself would have ended up if that hadn’t happened, though, so it all comes out in the wash he supposes.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Francis says, tracing a hairline fracture in his coffee mug with his thumbnail just for something to do. “If I take any more time off, I’ll just never go back, so it’s now or never, really.”

“Attaboy,” Tom says before taking a long, thoughtful drink from his own mug. Out of solidarity, or maybe sensitivity, he hadn’t had anything to drink tonight either, despite Francis’s assurances that it wouldn’t bother him and might even be a good idea, just for him to get used to it. It’s not like he could reasonably expect to go the rest of his life without ever seeing alcohol again. He’d seen four different ads for light beer alone this afternoon while watching reruns of ‘Bones’ on the couch and imagining every possible way his first day back in the office after rehab could go wrong and that hadn’t sent him into a tailspin, so he’d probably survive watching his best friend drink in his presence. Still, Tom had chosen to just drink decaf coffee with him after dinner like the ancient relics they are, because he is, without a doubt, the best person Francis has ever known. “You talk to anybody about it? I mean, besides me…”

“What, you mean like a therapist? Of course. I’ve got, what, six of them now, for Christ’s sake!”

“No, I mean, from the office. Have you talked to anyone about coming back?”

“Well, John, obviously.”

“I suppose you’d have to, yeah,” Tom says, running a ponderous hand over his chin. “Anything interesting from that quarter?”

“Just about what you’d expect,” Francis says, trying to be generous. John had been kind enough to let him keep his job, after all, despite how bad things got in the end, but Francis’s issues with the man remain, even with his newfound sobriety. Francis had sent him a long, downright obsequious email apologizing for the damage he’d done with his drunken theatrics both over the years and in the very recent past and explained in detail all the ways he was going to do better in the future, while expressing gratitude for the unprecedented amount of grace everyone, but particularly John, had shown him during this stressful time. It was, in no uncertain terms, the most embarrassing thing Francis has ever had to do, and he has, in his life, proposed to the same woman three separate times with absolutely no success, so it’s not like he’s lacking in options for that top spot.

John is, thankfully, the sort of man who likes to breeze past unpleasantness wherever he can and is also, more importantly, a deeply entrenched bureaucrat who’d just as soon do no work as do even a little work and therefore could not be bothered to hire a replacement for Francis. In fact, if he had to guess, John was probably clever enough to frame it as some sort of protection against a discrimination lawsuit somewhere down the line, despite the fact that several things Francis did at the staff Christmas party right before hitting rock bottom were definitely fireable offenses. John’s unflappable dedication to the status quo has worked in Francis’s favor for once, and while he certainly doesn’t deserve the break, he’s going to take it where he can get it on the off chance it never happens again.

“And the staff? Your team, I mean.”

“I got coffee with a few of them individually, just to clear the air and apologize, so that if anyone wanted to take a swing at me, they could do it outside of work,” Francis says, scuffing his shoe against the porch.

“Well, that’s considerate of you. Any of them try it?”

“No. The cowards,” Francis scoffs, which makes Tom laugh. “Jopson and Edward both seemed like they might be sick at the prospect of anyone in charge actually deigning to apologize to them, which was…humbling, to say the least. Then I got an extremely nervous monologue from Harry about the history and relative efficacy of Alcoholics Anonymous, which I think was his way of saying we’re square. And Silna told me if I tried to meet up with her outside of work hours again, she’d block my number and quit without notice, so...”

“She’s got the right of it,” Tom says, with a crooked grin.

“Yeah, that was my favorite of the lot,” Francis replies. “We’ll have a team meeting tomorrow and we’ll get someone in from HR so everyone can talk about feelings, God help us, but I think it might be okay. Which I could not have predicted when all this started, but here we are.”

“I could have,” Tom says. “You’ve made plenty of mistakes, I grant you, but you’ve also done right by these people in a lot of ways. They’re not going to forget that in a hurry. They’re a loyal bunch.”

Francis nods, looking out over the water again. The pinks and golds of the sunset a few moments ago have already faded into purples and blues as night creeps in. The nocturnal chorus of frogs croaking and insects trilling is rising in the nearby woods. He’s already said his piece about how absurd it is that they’re sitting comfortably outside on the porch after dinner—with jackets on and a fire going, sure, but still—and it’s only the beginning of March. Tom doesn’t need to hear any more ranting about global warming right now; it’s no fair repayment of his generosity. What Francis really should do is head for home soon and let his friend have some peace and quiet. He could use some of that himself, but he somehow doubts that he’ll get much rest once he’s home for the evening. At least he can panic about tomorrow properly there, though, by himself.

“Speaking of throwing punches,” Tom says, carefully, after they’ve been quiet a moment, “have you spoken to James at all?”

Francis winces with what feels like his entire body. “I haven’t had the chance,” he says, as lightly as he can manage.

It isn’t precisely true. If he found the time to contact everyone else who’d been affected by his spectacular fall from grace during his leave of absence, he could have found the time to reach out to James too, but he hadn’t. The apology he owes James Fitzjames is too big for an email, which he’d, in a truly cowardly fashion, gotten away with for almost everyone else, and the presumption and humiliation of asking for any of his free time as he’d done with some of his subordinates was a bridge too far. Besides, if they’d met up at a coffee shop to talk things out, Francis has no doubt James would have ordered his drink with oat milk or stevia instead of sugar or mentioned a cleanse he was on and Francis would have rolled his eyes and said something awful and then he probably would have had to go to rehab all over again, which would have defeated the point. Francis has been told by outside observers—professionals in the field, for what it’s worth—that he’s making progress, but he’s even more sure that he’s still, at his core, a miserable old bastard. He’s just less miserable than he was before, by a small margin. Unfortunately, he’s not any less old, though. In fact, he’s older, but that’s beside the point.

“You’ll have to face him sooner or later,” Tom says, not quite gently but not as bullying as he could be either.

“I know,” Francis says, covering his face with his hands. “I’ll do it tomorrow. I mean, if anyone’s entitled to an in-person apology, it’s James, surely.”

“After you punched him in front of everyone at the Christmas party and verbally berated him? Yeah, I think something more than a text message might be in order.”

“You accepted an apology text,” Francis says, scowling into his mug. “And I broke your leg. You needed surgery and everything. I don’t even think I broke James’s nose.”

“Only because your aim sucks when you’re wasted,” Tom replies, unbothered. “Gave him quite the shiner, though, if you want to compare wounds.”

Francis sighs. “I already said I’d talk to him. You have my word.”

“What am I? Your bloody father?”

“No, and I like you a great deal better for it.”

“Good, then what do I need your word for?”

“I was just trying to convey my sincerity.”

“I don’t doubt your sincerity, Francis. Never have. It’s everyone else you need to convince.”

“I don’t know what to say to James,” Francis says, into his hands. “I mean, with you at least, we’ve known each other for ages. We can bounce back from quite a lot, it turns out. James, he’s—I’ve never known how to talk to him in the first place. Now I’ve got to do it sober? I don’t know where to start.”

“How about, ‘James, I’m sorry for trying to knock your lights out with an audience present while I was drunk off my ass on the company dime’ to start?”

Francis closes his eyes and leans back in his chair, letting the shame wash over him like a wave and then, more importantly, letting it recede like waves do. He sighs loudly and shakes his head.

“You know, I’ve always regretted I wasn’t the sort of drunk who forgets what he does when he’s wasted. Feels like it might be easier, ultimately. Like, I could say, ‘oh, sorry for whatever I might have done to you, James. The trouble is I don’t remember any of it, but I’m sure it’s nothing I would have done sober, all the same.’”

“Feigning amnesia?” Tom barks, laughing and looking at him sideways. “What’s that? The thirteenth step?”

“Leave me alone,” Francis replies, waving him off but laughing himself despite his best efforts. “I’ve done a lot of owning up to things lately. Can’t I keep one petty grievance for myself?”

“You could probably get away with it, if you’d left it as a petty grievance rather than escalating to violence. And your resistance to dealing with James should tell you making amends there is your highest priority. Discomfort is a good thing here, a signal you’re heading in the right direction. If it were all easy, everyone would do it, you know.”

“That’s lovely, Tom. Will you be cross-stitching any of these aphorisms onto pillows to remind me to stay the course, or shall I just memorize them for when times get tough?”

“Fuck off, you dusty old prick,” Tom laughs. “Hey, what about this? ‘James, I’m ever so sorry for getting plastered and calling you out in front of everyone and then attempting to rearrange your pretty face with my fist! I do think some of the blame lies in you being so pretty and in me having some unresolved issues around my masculinity and my self-esteem, all of which you can blame on my waste of a father figure growing up, but in this case, I suppose I have to shoulder some of the responsibility for my actions myself. Forgive me?’”

“There’s no one else on earth who could get away with saying even half those things to me, you know,” Francis says, even as his blood doesn’t boil or even heat in the slightest hearing them. It rushes to his face instead, no doubt resulting in a fierce blush that the gathering darkness mercifully hides from view.

“I earned it the hard way, my friend,” Tom says, patting his boot.

“That you did,” Francis says, and rises from his seat. “I’d better be going, then. Much to do, after all: apologies to draft, laundry to fold, worst case scenarios to spin out.”

Tom gets up with effort, clunky and inelegant in his boot, but not so proud as to decline Francis’s hand when it’s offered. “I wasn’t trying to scare you off,” he says once he’s vertical.

“You didn’t. It’s like I said, I’ve a lot to do before the big day.”

Tom nods and, after a moment of deliberation, puts a hand on Francis’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, you know.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Francis replies, shifting away from the praise. “More of a bad man trying to be better.”

Tom gives him a long look at that and then shakes his head, smiling. “All that work on yourself and you still don’t get it,” he says, not unkindly. “What else do you think a good man is?”

Francis doesn’t know, but he spends the whole ride home and the rest of the night thinking about it all the same.

*

Francis’s plan of attack, such as it even exists, takes form more easily than he could have predicted. Once he starts thinking about how best to approach James at work and make amends on that front, he finds he knows a lot more about the man than he originally thought. A few years working together, however contentiously, has been enough to pick up on each other’s habits and quirks well enough that Francis can reasonably predict when he’ll be able to get a moment of James’s time without anyone else around. The fact that he can do this and yet never thought to do it before under any other circumstances is the cause of another wave of shame that passes less quickly than Francis would like.

Francis arrives at the City Planner’s office just before 8:30 in the morning with the certainty that he won’t run into John—the man has many flaws but his dedication to never showing up to work any earlier than he absolutely needs to is not one of them, in Francis’s opinion—but that he will, in all likelihood, find James already there and more than likely already working. He also arrives with the materials for a bribe, should that prove necessary.

He’s so worked up, going through everything he’s planning to say one last time in his mind before he actually sees James, that he doesn’t think to knock on the outer door, which is sitting half-open anyway, and just barges in instead. It’s not a great start, he realizes a second after it’s too late to do anything else, and it’s made even worse by the fact that James is there, as expected, and he’s only partially in his shirt, which is not so expected. Francis stops and gapes for a moment with all the grace of someone who’s been tased.

“God, sorry,” he says, and tries to step back, only to collide with the door jamb. “I should’ve—”

“Francis, it’s—good morning, I—this isn’t—I’m the—I’m sorry,” James says, managing to sound crisp and self-possessed even when he’s stammering his way through an apology. “I don’t normally…do this…in the office, I mean.”

“No, of course not,” Francis says, behaving like a teenager in a romantic comedy for some reason and averting his eyes, even though there’s nothing to see. James was in the process of buttoning his shirt when he came in, so it’s really the sight of his clavicle that’s made Francis so uncomfortable. Was he always this much of a ninny? Is that why he started drinking, to cover it up? It’s the only explanation that makes any sense now.

“I went for a run this morning and I neglected to pack a shirt with my work clothes, so I had to use the spare I keep in my desk for emergencies.”

The old Francis (of several weeks and easily a thousand group sessions ago) would have rolled his eyes at any number of things in that small explanation: running to work, keeping a spare shirt in one’s desk, referring to anything related to fashion as an ‘emergency’ and meaning it. Now, he nods thoughtfully and tries to think of it all as part and parcel of what he respects and admires about James: his dedication and planning, his ability to anticipate and address future challenges. The fact that he looks nice in blue. Whatever. It turns out it’s easier to do than he imagined it would be.

“I don’t think you have a habit of undressing in the office for fun, James,” Francis says, instead of any of those nice things. “Don’t worry.”

“Right,” James says, lightly, even as his shoulders remain tense. He does up the last few buttons and his clavicle disappears under the taut poplin fabric of his dress shirt. “Well, what can I do for you, Francis?”

Francis has heard—and, in turn, mocked—James on any number of occasions start conversations with a smooth, ‘to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?’, which is not an expression Francis himself has been treated to in a long time and for good reason. He doesn’t know why he thinks of it now, except that he’d take even a sarcastic reference to the pleasure of his company (of which there is none and never has been for James in particular, he thinks) over the idea that James should do anything for him, at this point.

“You’re training, then?” Francis asks, skirting gracelessly around the question James actually posed. “For another one of the what-do-ya-call-em’s? Not a marathon. The thing you did last year…?”

“The Ironman,” James suggests, looking slightly pained. “It’s a triathlon.”

“Yeah, that sounds right. Another one of those?”

“God, no,” James replies, nose wrinkling slightly before he seems to catch himself doing it and intentionally blanks his expression. “I’m not likely to do another one of those. I already have my bragging rights, after all. Today’s run was just for health.”

“Oh, sure,” Francis says, tapping a fingertip nervously against the cardboard sleeve of his coffee cup. “I’m meant to be doing that now.”

“Running?” James asks, betraying some surprise, which is fair enough.

“Exercising. For my health. To keep me…”

“Fit?”

“Well, distracted,” Francis replies, with a shrug. “There seems to be some thought of it helping to keep me away from drink, though I’m not sure what the logic is there. But I’m meant to be thinking of something I’d enjoy, anyway.”

“Not running, then,” James says, brow crinkling like he’s giving the matter serious thought. James is a fixer by nature—and by profession, of course, being paid mostly to follow John around and make sure the grand promises that flow from his mouth actually happen somehow. He thrives with a problem to solve. If Francis were even marginally less stupid and less proud, he might have thought to come to James sooner. He’s nothing if not several very large problems wrapped in a trench coat. Or a wind breaker, in actuality. The point is, Francis could use all the fixing he can get his hands on.

“Not likely. Never enjoyed it, really. Hard on the ankles, I’ve found.”

“Yes, it can be quite stressful on the joints. You’ve got to take all sorts of precautions,” James says, in the tone he gets when he’s working his way up to a long treatise of some kind, but he stops abruptly and his face betrays that he’s seemingly caught himself. He clears his throat. “So, it’s not for everyone. I understand.”

“Yes, well, my sponsor was saying that I might try tennis or racquetball, but then I’d have to find a regular partner or group, and I’m not sure I have it in me.”

“There’s a club nearby, actually, and they could help you arrange—” James pauses and shakes his head, once again stopping himself from expounding on the different options available the way he normally would. It’s an uncharacteristic amount of restraint coming from James, who loves recommending things to other people almost as much as he loves the sound of his own voice. Francis sees some of his own handiwork in this new display of shame and feels the need to make amends even more keenly than before because of it. “Well, you can Google it, I imagine, and it would be faster than listening to me. It is, uh—it’s in Eagleton, however, so I suppose that won’t do.”

“No,” Francis replies, frowning. “Thanks all the same, though. I imagine I’ll end up doing water aerobics with the rest of the senior citizens at the community center and call it a day.”

“You’re not a—you’re barely fifty, Francis!”

“I’m fifty-two, actually.”

“Oh, well, in that case, I hope you have your affairs in order,” James gripes, as he messes with something entirely unnecessarily on his desk. Francis smiles at the strange comfort of annoying him, which should not be reassuring to him at all but he’s a messed up sort of fellow even on his best days. The smile grows when James clears his throat again and adds, like he can’t quite stop himself, “Swimming’s rather good for the joints, actually.”

“Swimming?” Francis asks.

“Yes, swimming. As in, laps…in a pool. Something else the community center offers, if you were interested. It’s solitary—meditative, even—and good exercise. In—that is, in case you were wondering.”

“If this is you trying to talk me into a triathlon, James—”

James sniffs, more performatively haughty than genuinely haughty, Francis suspects. “I’d never,” he says. “I was merely recommending an activity that you might enjoy more than water aerobics, and that might spare the elderly of our community from dealing your obvious personality disorder early in the morning, when those classes tend to be held.”

Francis, much to James’s surprise from the look on his face, laughs at that. “I’ll take that under advisement,” he says, while James continues to regard him like he’s wild animal exhibiting signs of rabies who’s suddenly appeared in his path, which is maybe a common occurrence in town, depending on who you ask. “Thank you.”

James nods, distracted. “Sure.”

“Well, I—I…listen, I didn’t come here to talk about exercise regimes, which I figure you could have guessed,” Francis says, in a rush, because anything less than a headlong dive into the subject they need to discuss will hurt much worse than just getting it over with, he suspects. “And I don’t want to presume anything about your life, but I also figure there’s a non-zero chance that you’re already familiar with the famous 12 step program, maybe just through cultural osmosis, and I don’t want to over explain any of it to you, but, well, there’s a pretty important part about identifying people you’ve wronged through your addiction and the resulting behavior and making direct amends to said try people and—”

“I’m familiar,” James interrupts, softly. “Not directly, of course, or, um, anything like that—I don’t want to detract—but—”

Francis waves him off. “No need to explain. I just—well, obviously, that list of people, for me, had to include you, because of what transpired between us at the end of last year and how I behaved. The things I said to you, then—how I’ve always spoken to you, really—and of course, I—God, I’m so sorry. It feels absurd to say out loud but I’m sorry for lashing out at you and hitting you, I should never have—”

“It’s fine, Francis,” James says, starchily. He’s got a nervous hand pressed to his ribcage, so intently that it’s almost shocking to look and see no actual knife sticking out from there, somehow. With that, it’s hard to believe the breeziness of his words. “Really, this isn’t necessary.”

“And I’m telling you it is,” Francis explains, as carefully as he can manage. “Maybe it isn’t for you, I don’t know, but it’s necessary for me. Do you—can you understand that?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” James says, after a deep breath. “Of course. Is there…more?”

“You tell me. Is there any other ways my drinking harmed you that I haven’t thought of?”

“No, I wasn’t—”

Francis holds up a hand to stop him. “That probably read as very sarcastic, given our…history, let’s say, but it was a genuine question. I think I’ve raked myself over the coals for every possible slight I can imagine but if there’s anything I did that I can address for you now, I’d have you tell me.”

“No, it’s fine, really,” James replies, shakily. “I only meant, I don’t really know what goes into all this. Is amends just an apology or is there more to it? I don’t need there to be, I was just curious. That’s all.”

“Well, you’re meant to endeavor to show you’ve changed your ways, I suppose. To indicate that you won’t be perpetuating the same harm in the future. Which, in this case, is tough, because…well, I mean, all I can give you is my word I won’t try to knock you out at work ever again.”

“Outside of work hours, however…” James muses, with a small, mirthless smile.

Francis winces, but otherwise doesn’t react. “I’ll never behave that way towards you again. On my honor, for whatever that’s worth.”

James folds his arms over his chest and looks down at the carpet, appearing like a sullen youth for a brief moment before he raises his gaze and becomes a grown man once more. Francis remembers when he’d shown up with John that first time, how he’d called James an infant to Tom when they finished their initial meeting with him about the town’s budget crisis all those years ago. Tom had laughed at him, wheezing ‘he’s a decade younger than us, if he’s anything, Francis. He’s our bloody peer now, and if you don’t see it, you’re cracked!’ Francis thought—still thinks—Tom is the one who’s cracked, in this case. James looked young, then; he looks young now, everywhere except the eyes, which contain a stormy sea’s worth of disappointment. Francis can be self-centered with the best of them but he knows he’s not the one who put that feeling there in the first place. He’s not that important. For the first time, however, he feels protective of the man in front of him because of it and takes it as his very solemn duty to never be the cause of his disappointment again, so long as it can be helped. All that and it’s not even 9 in the morning yet.

“It’s worth plenty,” James says, eventually, clearly just as uncomfortable with this much emotion so early in the day as Francis is and eager to be done with it. “Thank you, Francis.”

“Yes, well, I won’t take up any more of your time, I’ve been nuisance enough for one morning, but if there’s ever anything you want to discuss or clear up between us, my door’s always open. To you, that is. Well, to anyone, but just in case your particular welcome was unclear, I mean, you should—”

James sweeps a hand out wide in a graceful gesture like he’s literally clearing the air. “Understood,” he says, sincerely, “and appreciated.”

“Great,” Francis says, too cheerily and then winces again. “I mean, uh—right, I’ll just be going then.”

As he pivots back towards the door, the sloshing noise of the ice shifting in one of the cups he’d forgotten he was holding draws his attention. Christ, right. The whole point was—Francis really is starting to lose his mind. He contemplates just leaving anyway, like nothing’s amiss, but he’ll have to explain the two drinks to his team, absolutely none of whom will buy that the iced chai is for him. He’s gone on too many rants about how coffee shouldn’t be iced and tea only on certain occasions. He’s the type to drink hot, black coffee even on the most brutal summer days, though his sponsor did warn him that a lot of alcoholics do turn to sweets as a coping mechanism for replacing alcohol in their daily lives and not to be surprised if he found himself needing additional sweetener in his morning coffee as a result. Francis hadn’t credited it at the time, but he had found himself momentarily tempted at the coffee shop this morning by a sign advertising something called a ‘death by chocolate latte’ as the daily special before he’d gotten a hold of himself, so maybe there’s some truth to it. The point is, dragging this extra drink back to his office will be more humiliating than turning around and giving it to James like he originally planned, no matter how awkward it feels right now.

“Okay,” he says, turning back, “I promise this is the last thing and then I will let you get back to work. There’s, uh—it’s not a bribe, mind you, just an extension of the apology for what happened and for the fact that you’ll have to continue working with me for the foreseeable future and—you don’t have to forgive me, you don’t owe me that, I just thought—”

James looks at him, utterly perplexed, fingertips gently steepled on the top of the desk like he’d already been going back to whatever he was working on when Francis interrupted again. “What is it?” he asks, somehow still not betraying any annoyance at the interruption, hiding it well under an open tone of curiosity.

“The—this,” Francis finally spits out with considerable effort, holding the cup out towards James, rather than try to explain himself further. “It’s for you.”

“Oh,” James replies, with an expression like Francis is trying to hand him a live gerbil and not an upsettingly overpriced beverage like the ones he’s seen James drink on dozens of occasions. “I, uh—that’s really not necessary.”

“You must take it, James. Please. I said you’re not obligated to forgive me, I’m not trying to sway you, really. It just felt wrong to show up empty handed, after everything.”

“I understand, but, really—”

“You’re not on another one of your cleanses, are you? Giving up sugar or…calories before noon or something?” Francis ventures, imbuing his tone with more patience than he normally would, even though he still feels very little towards this thing in particular.

James is already so annoyingly healthy and brisk and handsome, it does take extraordinary amounts of patience to tolerate his talk of intermittent fasting and green juice with the goal of making himself even more annoyingly perfect. Surely, there’s got to be a limit to that sort of thing, but Francis doesn’t know; he’s on the opposite end of the spectrum it seems, having to re-learn the fundamentals of barely looking after himself in middle age without the aid of alcohol. It’s pretty grim, if he’s being honest. It really is no wonder that James has been so consistently earning the gold medal spot in the competitive sport of getting on Francis’s nerves, with that in mind.

His intentional gentleness does seem to pay off in this case, though, since James smiles at him in only mild embarrassment. “Uh, no, I’m not. I just—you’re not obliged to—”

“I know, but—listen, James, I already committed my penance by having to say the phrase ‘dirty chai’ with a straight face to a college student with a lip piercing at eight in the morning, okay? The damage is done. You might as well enjoy the spoils of my humiliation.”

James’s smile widens at that, looking for all the world like he can’t really stop himself. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but that mental image might be worth more to me than the entirety of your apology.”

“No offense taken,” Francis says, finally succeeding in handing off the cup, slick with condensation by now, into James’s care. “I hope it will sustain you for a while yet.”

“Oh, it shall,” James says, placing the cup gingerly onto his desk.

“Right, well,” Francis replies, “that’s all, then. I’ll see you…later, I suppose.”

James nods. “We have a meeting set for Tuesday—tomorrow. It should be on your calendar. Thomas said he—”

“If Jopson says it’s there, it’s there.”

“Great,” James says, easily. “Until then.”

“Yes. ‘Til tomorrow.”

Mission completed, Francis turns once more towards the door and is only interrupted in leaving by the sound of James clearing his throat behind him. He pauses, and looks over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows in question when he meets James’s eye.

“It’s only—forgive me if this is the wrong thing to say, under the circumstances,” James offers, fidgeting with the edge of the notepad lying open on his desk, “but you do—that is, you look well, Francis.”

Francis doesn’t allow himself the liberty of moving even an inch, not to fiddle with his collar or brush back his hair or otherwise indicate he gives so much as one singular damn about his appearance. “Do I?” he asks, tone purposely vague, like James has just told him the weather forecast and it’s only interesting to him in theory, really.

“Yes, very well,” James says, putting his hand flat on the desk very deliberately, like it was giving him away before. At what, who knows, but he’s got it under control now. “This change, it suits you.”

“Well, thank you, I guess.”

James now looks at his computer screen, absently. The next words he says might be something he was reading off of there, if they were anything else. “You look good, is what I meant.”

“How—?” Francis pauses, feeling immense pressure to say this right, somehow. “Sorry, but how would that be the wrong thing to say?”

“I wouldn’t want you to think, well—” James interrupts himself by laughing, just a little and rather joylessly. “It’s not that you didn’t look good before.”

“Oh, right,” Francis says, even as those words continue to make no sense to him in that particular order coming from this particular person. “Wait, you’re saying—I did?”

James meets his eye again, finally, but only to give him the most impatient, long-suffering look in human history. “Is it too much to hope that one of the twelve steps involves learning to take a compliment?” he asks, sounding depleted by the effort. “Because it is one of your most exhausting qualities that you can’t do so without endless interrogation first.”

“And it’s got a lot of competition,” Francis replies, feeling himself smile and choosing to do nothing to stop it, “what with all my other exhausting qualities.”

“You’re really only proving my point here, you know.”

“Thank you, James,” Francis says, dutifully. “It’s very kind of you to say. Better?”

“Much,” James sighs. “You’re showing remarkable improvement already.”

Francis leaves him, then, because to stay any longer would just be exposing himself to further ridicule and he’d absolutely deserve it, what with the stupid smile he now can’t seem to get rid of.

#lmao zainab's exact words when we talked about this prompt were 'i'm in my slightly confused but supportive parental energy era' #my madness is being indulged so patiently #anyway this has been stressing me out for a month now just take it away from me!!! #the terror #the terror amc #fitzier #francis crozier #james fitzjames #thomas blanky #writing prompt #reverse fanfic tropes prompts #god i've forgotten how to even tag writing anymore... #firstelevens #homelywenchsociety #that's my writing tag! don't worry about it! #prompt fill #as always when i come up with a silly au for something i'm like 'i don't know how everyone fits in i haven't thought about it at all' #except i am always lying because i always know #most important part of this AU is that tunbaaq is The Pit #and ross is mark brendana-quits #and that's most of what you need to know #please join me in imagining all of the truly absurd parks plotlines i can shove these idiots into #my favorite that i've thought of so far is forcing james and silna into ben and april's plotline of getting stuck in a parking garage #traffic jam together for hours #i just think it would break them you know?? and that's fun #anyway....

[pepprs]

ok. giving myself 4 minutes to make this post and then i finish my homework. i just am so deeply miserable. i really think i made a mistake. i should not be in grad school. i only took a year between this and undergrad and i am still so burned out and mentally ill. im working full time. im only taking one class and this program is supposed to be so good and aligned with what i want and all of that. but i just cant stand having homework. i just cant stand it. i think i am not cut out for academia even though i work in academia. i think i will never get better as long as im still living at home but i have to get better before i can no longer be living at home but i cant get better until im not living at home and every day i still live at home saps away at my will to live quite literally. i should not have started doing grad school without regaining my will to live. without restoring my love for reading and writing that i used to have voraciously when i was younger and less deeply miserable. without recovering from the burnout. i think i made a mistake. i need a masters degree so bad so that i can be safe but i need to not have fucking homework when i already struggle to get through my days without school. i feel so stuck in my life and hopeless and helpless. i dont know what to do

#purrs #i cant drop out or anything because. lol and this class isnt even that big of a deal like i TRULY am freaking out over nothing. but my life #situation is so bad rn bro like i cant get my parents to take me out to drive and i cant get myself to get my parents to take me out to #drive and every day i am guilt tripped berated etc etc and i feel like i am never ever ever going to be able to have my own life where i a #stable and safe and happy. it can happen for other people except for me and my siblings. i dont know. im not explaining anything well. #i just cant do this. i need to not have this one more thing on my plate but i have to because if i dont have a masters degree in my field i #am nothing even though everyone is telling me that isnt true and all of them are credible but im just so mentally ill i cant believe anyone #and icant accept any advice or hope or whatever good about me i just. am stuck. this is as good as it gets and its not even good. #delete later #that was 7 minutes not 4 and i didnt even write anything substantial. nutshell. i just have been so fucking depressed lately oh my goddddd #this is maybe too strong of a thing to say but like. i know it isnt technically neglect if i am an adult but... i think i may kind of be #neglected by my family in some ways a little bit and always have been but like. emotionally. like in the ways in which im never a priority #and the things i need are seen as burdens etc etc. and theres nothing anyone can do about it even myself because im an adult but like lol. #24 year old dependent moment <3 #well there is one thing i can do about it as an adult actually. its called move out. but that requires strength i will #never possess unfortunately due to the inherent flaws in my character and constitution so. guess this is it lawl 🥰 #side note (and i swear im done after this lol): i think i was doing a lot better mentally over the summer. funny how when the semester #starts i get depressed and the depression just gets worse and worse until the end of the semester 😻 funny how this is my seventh year like #this. willingly subjecting myself to this. that should be a clue no? but i love my job and if i could just have my job and be stable in it #would be happier but also im lying to mysaelf and i will always be unhappy but its because of my mental illness not my job being bad or #anything its like. i am just sick in the head with impostor syndrome and thats how i got myself into this whole mess. lol #well that and the not moving out thing which is partially my fault but also because i live in hell as described earlier! <3

[whsprings]

"I feel like you're desperately holding onto your ed" that's because I am. next question.

#cw// ed #iop again #had a chat about how i am unwilling to do the work which is always fun to hear #and i was like 'that makes me feel like a lost cause' and g said 'youre not though! i just cant do this for you.' #also ive been in iop for two months and my weight is the same. idk how i managed that. except also i do. #i convince myself that living like this is sustainable and that i dont need to change #and i have no evidence telling me otherwise #g asked if i wanted to stop working on my ed and just do anxiety work and i told her id probably relapse if i did that #she also asked why i am honest on my meal check in sheets in iop and i told her its because lying is pointless and honesty is #the right thing to do #she said it sounds like a cry for help and i said maybe it is #i honestly dont know what i want or what im doing #i hate this

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

that's another thing though, isn't it? because i can go on and on about how he's dating someone who's been a fan of him for years and how fucked up that is and no one will listen but we (meaning the human collective) have just barely learned that some relationship dynamics are fucked up despite the ages of the participants. when one of those vine sauce boys was just having one night stands with his fans people were uproariously angry... and that's not AS bad for various reasons but still bad in a way that is now being ignored. it is never okay to take advantage of your status as a content creator to enter into any type of relation/situationship with someone, especially when you're as popular as He is. however, i'm aware relationships have certain contexts and, as an outsider, you can't and *shouldn't* try to come up with that context that you'll never know for sure... BUT, as i've said a billion times in the last year or so, knowing that someone has been watching you and a fan of you for a majority of your career should AT THE VERY LEAST make you step back and question whether or not to pursue a relationship with them. if at all.

#i can't help but be negative about their relationship not because i am a schizo nutjob but because of all of the information i've found out #about her and her past relationships. I DID NOT HAVE TO DIG DEEP TO FIND THIS INFO BTW i didn't stalk anyone but abt half a year ago a few #anonymous ppl came out and said some very eye-opening shit about her... i did try to inquire further and maybe prod and see if at least one #of them was lying but they never responded. perhaps all of the 3 ppl who had stories abt her were lying and perhaps none of them were #either way idk what they hoped to gain about coming out with their info anyways except for maybe just. finally having a reason to say it? #because they know she's dating a popular content creator idk. like i said you should take that all woth a grain of salt even though #at least SOME of that information has been proven. anyways none of that matters honestly she could be the best person ever who cares #the point i'm trying to make here is that jeremy should be disappointing people by doing this but the percentage of people who were #bothered by this doesn't add up with the current amount of sjw tumblrinas in his audience. i honestly wish all of his old 4chan misogynist #fans came back but that bridge has been burned LMFAOOOO honestly i wish i could just get over him and his stupid bullshit but i can't for #whatever reason. i'm sorry for always going on and on abt it when i half of you still adore him and want me dead everytime i talk abt this #and the other half could not give a single fuck less but. yeah. that's all i have to say really

[qqueenofhades]

https://www.tumblr.com/qqueenofhades/743255237060689920/the-thing-that-confuses-me-about-the-dont-vote

The “don’t vote” left’s point is basically that, if Biden gets a second term, it’ll basically signal that “They’ll vote for us as long as we’re not Republicans, why don’t we do some REAL fucked up shit, if we can get away with it?” It takes the power out of the people’s hands and places it firmly in the party’s.

I can’t completely disagree with that, my caveat is that there’s no real alternative system or party in place, because top-down change is ineffective; a third party president has to contend with a two party congress.

Except no. This whole "Biden just wants to do as much fucked up shit as possible while not being a Republican, and if you give him a second term he'll do more fucked up shit deliberately to spite you" mindset is only possible as an interpretation if you a) deliberately and comprehensively ignore everything he has done to date, and b) you approach the situation with the maximum bad faith possible. Not to mention, the ultimate outcome of this Big Important Teaching Biden A Lesson is that Trump gets back into power and makes everything orders of magnitude worse, because he does in fact want to deliberately do evil shit to everyone and says so at every opportunity. There is not some magical happy alternative that springs into existence by not voting. If you choose this as a year to Teach Biden A Lesson, you are enabling Trump. Trump will be much, much worse. If you don't care about that, I still do not care what your Great Ideology is. You are not helping anyone and you are directly and irreversibly hurting everyone.

I made a post a few days ago wherein I mentioned that I want to assess Biden fairly, taking into account both strengths and weaknesses, but the rampant bad-faith, lying, misreading, misrepresentation, and open sabotage of him (especially by the online left; the GOP sometimes only wishes they were as good at turning Biden's voter pool against him) makes it really difficult to do that. My frustration with those people makes me just want to go "BIDEN IS GREAT THE END." I know he is a flawed old man (though by literally every account of a career spent in public service, he really does care about making the world a better place and any remotely good faith reading of his accomplishments thus far can see that). It is also very likely that he goes MORE left in a second term because he won't have to face the electorate again, he has always gone more left when pushed before, and he's not actually the scheming genocidal mastermind that leftist social media paints him as. Shocking, I know.

I know there are things in the world we don't like and don't want and want to stop, and therefore we blame our own president for not making it stop. But I have zero, no, none, absolutely none whatsoever sympathy for this pseudo-populist "WE NEED TO TEACH BIDEN A LESSON BY ELECTING TRUMP AGAIN, I AM VERY MORAL MUCH ACTIVIST" mindset. There's this funny thing about America wherein it is still (for now) a democracy. If Biden wins a second term, he can't run again. I would take literally anything these people said more seriously if they focused on developing their dream progressive successor for 2028 (and also figured out how to get that person elected and in a place to make real change) rather than cynically sabotaging Biden in the most consequential election year, again, of our lifetimes. If you don't like him now, find a way to make his successor a better option. Throwing a toddler tantrum and handing the country back to a senile, deranged, fascist, revenge-riddled, theocratic Trump HELPS. NOBODY. I still don't know how many times I'm going to have to say that, but yeah.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

[sleeplessnightmarecalledlife]

Wow oh wow. Unfortunately, I feel like having a man to say exactly what I'm saying would yield better results than me speaking for myself, because that sincerely gets me nowhere.

#I've often heard how taking a man completely changes the environment and how they respond #Sucks for me that means I'm still fucked #Borderline tearing my hair out at how often I have to repeat myself only to not be listened to #No worries I'm either just in searing pain or go numb it's chill I'm sure it's nothing #Certainly nothing to do with the injuries I went through because that's quickly dismissed as irrelevant and a non factor #Absolute worst case scenario is that untreated numbness get worse than it has and leads to amputation lmfao nothing major #But if you continue to ignore it then you don't even to do anything so it's all good for everyone #Except me of course but that's not important in the slightest nor is the continuous impact it has #I swear the hardcore NHS defenders really grate on me #'Well I was seen instantly and got every test I needed just to make sure and I was treated quickly' #And anyone who has a different experience is full of shit and lying #Like my experience is always dismissed and disregard... Apart from the allergy guy who can't help what needs help #But I can fully acknowledge other people receive amazing care despite the fact I never have #It's not perfect at all so the blind and rabid defence despite the many flaws it has regardless of the good it does is fucking cult like #Anyway I'll continue to get ignored so rip to the things I've lost due to their blatant neglect because I'm unworthy of care #And there's no one to help at all so I gotta continue going it alone and getting flat out ignored #Just perfect #Exactly what I wanted #Guess that's bye to pole permanently thank you for your fantastic world class service #I really don't know what to do and i really am crying because of it all the time

[urlocalfeiner]

is it selfish to want you? | neteyam sully

gif by me!

pairing: neteyam sully x omaticiya!fem! reader

warnings: so much fluff, swearing, heated kissing, bonding, mating, intimate

a/n: both neteyam and you are about 17 in this, as to my knowledge that is when na'vi are declared as adults and are allowed to find a mate. please correct me if i am wrong!

masterlist!

neteyam sully was a boy of many things, he was a mighty warrior, loved by most- desired by more. he was easily one of the most sought out na'vi in the clan, many women in the clan had their eyes on him. they would do anything neteyam asked of them in a heartbeat- all waiting in anticipation for the day he would pick a mate to help him lead the clan.

but neteyam paid no attention to any of them, he had interest in not one other woman in the clan, except for you. his heart belonged to you and you didn't even know it. to him no na'vi even held so much as a finger to you and your beauty, your strong heart and mind- he honestly couldn't pinpoint any flaw you had even if he was held at gunpoint because in his eyes you truly had none. you were completely and utterly perfect.

but the one woman he wanted was the one that wasn't chasing after him- what he didn't know if that you had been pinning after him just as he did for you, but you were sure he did not return the feelings you had for him. he had all these women wanting him, why would he want you?

"neteyam!" he snapped his head at the sound of your voice calling his name, watching as you approached him with a small smile on your face. he was sitting on the forest floor carving a piece of wood. "do you know where kiri is?"

neteyam would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed when you asked him where his sister was, "sorry, i do not know." you sighed, plopping yourself down on the ground next to him- only now taking notice of what he was doing, carving something.

neteyam saw you were staring at what he was making out of wood with curiosity. "this is for tuk, lo'ak broke her other ikran toy." he tried to show you a bit better, removing his thumb a bit to make it more visible.

you chuckled- which brought butterflies to neteyam's chest. "poor tuk."

"i would say poor ikran, it got his neck snapped off." he joked, recalling how lo'ak accidently stepped on the wooden toy and tuk crying over the decapitated toy.

you laughed at his joke, "ah yes, poor ikran." he was not nearly done with carving the wooden toy, "do you mind if i stay?"

does neteyam mind if you stay? what kind of question was that? he did not mind, not one bit. with every fiber of his body he wanted you to stay- he wanted you to always be with him. "not one bit." he was excited that you wished to stay with him instead of finding the others which were probably doing something more fun than what he was.

you watched as his hands worked delicately, sure of every little move he made with his small knife when it met with the deep oak wood- your eyes slowly traveled up to his arms which were filled with muscle. it was no surprise, he was incredibly strong- his muscles just proved the point of it.

you admired his arms- as weird as it sounded, watching how the muscles tensed as he carved.

neteyam noticed how quiet you were being, turning to look at you slowly. realising you had your eyes trained on his toned arms, he felt a smirk coming to his lips- suddenly feeling confident. "my arm must be nice to look at, hm?"

you snapped your eyes away from his arm, heat spreading to your face- embarrassed you had just been caught staring at his arms. oh eywa, you have never wished to disappear more than you wanted to now. "uh, no?" it came out as more of a question than anything- you were a flustered mess.

he chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to work on carving tuk's toy. he felt proud that he could make you flustered- and was never more grateful for his toned arms. "right, that is why you were staring at them for so long." he teased you more.

"i was staring at them because of how dirty they are," you tried to regain yourself, rolling your eyes playfully- his arms did in fact have dirt on them from when he was out hunting that morning. "you need to go for a wash."

neteyam glared at you playfully, swiping his finger on his arm collecting some dirt and smeared it on your cheek. you slapped his finger away, groaning. "neteyam!- you skxqwng!" you rubbed your cheek in attempt to get the dirt that he had put on your face off. "i just cleaned myself!"

he grinned as he looked at your cheek- which was smeared with dirt, in your attempt to clean it you had made it worse- spreading it. "my finger slipped, sorry." he innocently said.

you raised your hand, slapping the side of his head harshly- making him shoot his hand up to his head that stung from your hit. "sorry, my hand slipped." you repeated his words, smirking.

but your smirk soon vanished as a smug look came to his face- you knew he was about to do something. and you were proved right as he stood up quickly, urapiductly picking you up, flinging your body over his shoulders with ease. you had not time to react with how fast he was at doing so and before you knew it he began to walk- your face being smushed into his back as one of his hands was holding you in place, the other holding your legs so you don't kick him.

"neteyam!-" you hit his back with your fist, trying to make him let go of you. "let go of me!- ugh, bitch!" he chuckled at the name you had decided to call him.

you continued to hit his back- your punches had no effect on him, his hold becoming tighter on you as you tried to squirm off his shoulders- having no success. you stopped fighting him as he suddenly came to a stop, hoping he was about to let you down. he let you down, just not in the way you had planned for.

he moved you from his shoulders, now holding you bridal style- he held a smirk on his face as he looked down at you. you were confused, looking around you. your eyes widened as you saw a large pond in front of you- knowing what he was about to do. you looked back to him, narrowing your eyes dangerously at him. telling him not to do it. "neteyam, let go of m-!" before you could finish your sentence you felt yourself get flung from his arms.

the cold water hitting your body as you landed in the water, as you resurfaced breathing heavily from not preparing yourself you looked up to neteyam who was standing on the dry grass in front of the pond, watching you in amusement.

before you could open your mouth to speak, neteyam once again interrupted you this time by jumping into the water right next to you- causing a large splash, the water getting in your mouth. you were truly done with this boy.

neteyam pulled his head out of the water, flinging his now wet braids away from his face so he could see you clearly- you had a sour look on your face as you glared at him. he was grinning widely, showing off his fangs. "what? you said to let you go."

"not like that!" you yelled at him, keeping yourself afloat. "i am going to kill you."

he raised one eyebrow teasingly, amused. "oh yeah?"

without a reply you swam forward at him, hitting him repeatedly as he laughed trying to swat your hands away- he quickly pulled himself underwater and before you could react you felt yourself being pulled under as well.

you opened your eyes under the water that you had just been dragged under, seeing neteyam in front of you grinning. you lunged forward at him in the water as he quickly dodged you- not fast enough though as you got a hold of his tail, pulling him back. you felt a smile make its way to your face as you saw neteyam's angry expression under the vision of the slightly murky water.

he swam forward to you, wrapping both his arms around your body, trapping you- pushing you both deeper under the water- as the two of you stopped fighting one another he admired how you looked. your hair floating above you, which looked almost magical- your white spots that couted your face glowing in the darkness of the water. ewya, if neteyam didn't run out of breath from being in water for too long, he was sure you would. your blushed as the two of you held eye contact- it felt so intimate, his hands wrapped around you gently as he floated just aboved you looking down at your face.

you seemed to have forgotten you couldn't breath underwater for a second, it finally registered to you that you were out of breath as neteyam pulled you and him back to the surface to breathe.

as you reached it the two of you gasped for air, regaining your breath. when you did the two of you bursted out laughing- you were suddenly glad he had thrown you in the water. oh how much fun you had with him, he never failed to put a smile on your face no matter what circumstances it was under.

as your laughter died down, you realised how cold you were- shivering slightly from the water. neteyam too realising the coldness, looking at you, “come on.” he softly said, pulling you to the edge were the dry grass was.

neteyam reached his hand out to help you up, you took it gratefully- you too now on the dry land. as you emerged small droplets from the water coated your body, dripping slowly into the soul beneath you. neteyam felt his heart pick up its rhythm, you looked like a goddess, you always did.

“i can’t believe you chucked us both in the water with nothing to dry ourselves off with.” you groaned, glaring at neteyam playfully who shrugged innocently- more time with you that meant.

you sat down on a nearby rock that was by the large pond, neteyam following sitting right in front of you. waiting for yourselves to dry off. neteyam looked at you, you were still shivering- hugging your legs for warmth. he slid forward on the rock a bit, sliding an arm around your should bringing you closer to him- he rubbed your arm in comfort.

you melted into his touch, how was he so warm after getting out of the cold pond?- whilst you were still freezing. “you’re warm.”

he chuckled looking down at you, “you’re cold.”

you glared up at him, rolling your eyes. “maybe because you threw me into a cold pond?” he sighed, playfully pulling away from you- you missed the warmth of his body as soon as he did so, “okay, okay i’m sorry- please come back.” he laughed sliding back over, engulfing you in his arms once more.

it all felt so right, you in his arms. you silently wished to stay like this for the rest of your life, in his arms. neteyam too wished the same thing.

he stroked your hair gently, running his fingers through its dampness- you closed your eyes slowly, enjoying the head massage. neteyam smiled as he saw your peaceful expression, all he ever wanted to do was make you happy- and he wanted to do that for the rest of his life.

he continued to run his fingers through your hair, a comforting silence falling over the two of you. the only noise coming from the flowing water from the small waterfall that lead into the pond.

“thank you.” neteyam suddenly said, breaking the silence- which you were quite confused at what he was thanking you about.

opening your eyes, looking at neteyam with a confused expression. “for what?”

for what? for everything you did, for being alive, for being you- there were so many things he could thank you about. “for being there for me like today. it’s good to have some fun, training has made me have less free time lately- it may be selfish but, i miss it.”

your face softened as you sat up, removing your head from his shoulder. you knew he his father had been going harder on him than usual as he was coming quicker to the age of where he would become olo'eyktan- you suddenly felt like he needed a hug, or maybe you just wanted to be close to him. you didn’t really know. you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, holding his head with one hand the other around his neck.

neteyam hadn't realised how much he needed a hug until now, breathing in your scent that he knows by heart now. wrapping his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"i miss having you around too," you whispered into his neck, it sent shivers down his spine. you pulled away slightly so you could see neteyam's face, you pushed away a loose braid that always fell in front of his face. "and it is not selfish to want something, nete."

neteyam stared into your eyes, he swore he could drown in them and he would be completely content with going down like that. your words echoed in his mind, it is not selfish to want something- he wanted you to be his and him to be yours until the end of time itself- he yearned for you so much it hurt whenever he saw you speak to another male in the clan, he knew it was selfish of him but he only wanted you to speak to him. he wanted to be the one to show you the wonders of the world, he wanted to be the one who got to kiss your lips at night, he wanted to be the one whose name you whispered in the dark. neteyam sully wanted you and only you.

"is it selfish of me to want you?" his voice was quiet, in a whisper as the two of you held each others eyes. your mouth parted slightly, not sure if you had heard him right. had neteyam sully, the boy you had been in love with since young just speak those words? "is it selfish to want to be the only one that can look at you?"

"no." your voice was in a whisper, matching his. his eyes trailed down to your lips then back to your eyes- you had not missed it.

he reached out his hand placing it on your chin, gently pulling your face closer to his. you didn't fight it at all, you leaned in closer. your lips grazing each others. "good." he whispered against your lips, breaking the small gap between the two of you.

as your lips met his a spark appeared within you, whispering that this was meant to be. the kiss was short but was passionate, the two of your first kisses. neteyam loved that he was the one to be your first kiss and yours his.

the two of you broke away slowly, staring into each others eyes which were filled with desire and love. "you're so beautiful." he said as he pressed his lips to yours once again- this kiss was not like the first one, it was more messy, your lips chasing one another. he continued to kiss you, deepening the kiss as his hand slipped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap- now straddling him with your legs. "is this okay?" he asked softly, searching your face for any slight bit of uncomfortableness- but there was none.

you smiled, cupping his jaw in your hand, leaning into him. "more than okay, nete." was this what heaven felt like?- that is what neteyam was asking himself, because this was heaven.

his name against your tongue as you kissed him- eywa, it was enough to make him fall limp. his hand was on your lower back, supporting you so you didn't fall as he slid his tongue into your mouth. the other hand on your jaw softly. your hands found it way to his braids, tanginling your fingers in them- trying to pull him closer to you.

his lips began to trail down your neck, earning slight whimpers from you. it was the most beautiful sound neteyam had ever heard in his life. "keep making those noises." it came out without thinking as he continued to suck on your neck- you were embarrassed by the whimpers that escaped your mouth, but when neteyam said that you felt all the embarrassment slip away.

he pulled away from your neck, smirking as he saw the marks he left scattered across it. "neteyam," you hissed, "people are going to see those, you skxqwng." though, you weren't sure if you actually cared.

he grinned at your annoyed expression, "then they will see you are mine." you couldn't help but smile at what he said.

that was when you decided to make it official, it was the biggest decision of your life- you had been told that it would be a hard one to make as you would be with the one you bonded with for life. but, this was the easiest decision you had made in your life.

you slowly grabbed your braid that fell behind your back, bringing it forward to neteyam. his mouth fell slightly agape, looking up to you. "are you sure?" he asked, worried you may regret it later- he knew he would in fact never regret it, he didn't want you to though.

"neteyam, i have never been so sure of anything before." you smiled softly at him, that was all neteyam needed- he grabbed his queue and brought it forward with his hand your queues mere inches away from one another.

the two of you looked at one other, as you brought your queues to the other. the tsaheylu was formed.

both you and neteyam's breath hitched and pupils dilated as you looked from the bond to one another- you had never felt anything like this before, you could feel him, everything. his breath, heart beat, his feelings to you.

"i see you, y/n." neteyam breathed out, you swore you had never been happier- and neteyam could feel how happy you were when he spoke the words through the bond which made him smile.

"i see you, neteyam."

eywa had heard the two of your wishes and answered them. you and neteyam sully were now one, mated for life.

#neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar way of water #avatar #avatar way of water spoilers #way of water #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully x reader #sully family #neteyam imagine #neteyam scenario #na'vi x reader #na'vi #na’vi #neteyam smut

[peachesofteal]

18+ mdni / dark and twisty, whump

It’s snowing.

You don’t even have to move your head to see in order to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds and feels during a snowfall that blankets everything, houses, trees, mountains, your mind.

You love it. Always have. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It was what drove you to move out here in the first place. Chasing the snow. The feeling of a quiet forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white. The smell of the air the morning before a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the darkness when everything is dampened down by the weight of a million, billion unique, crystallized webs.

Except this snow feels different. It doesn't feel like a velvety white, soft dream world, but a nightmare... one filled with pain, anxiety. Why are you here? What's happened?

And why do you hurt so fucking bad?

"You're awake." A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn't as lighting sharp pain shoots through your upper arm all the way to your neck, and you cry out. "Easy." It's the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He's sitting in a chair that cannot possibly be comfortable, watching you.

"Where... am I?" You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to choke back the burn of bile that's racing up your throat.

"Are you going to be sick?" He reaches, stroking a finger down your face. You hold your tongue, unsure, and he must not like it, because he sighs, and then frowns at you. "Tell me."

"No, I don't-" You can't even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving, and he's springing to action shifting you amidst unbearable pain, turning you on your side to where a clean bucket sits, right beneath your bed.

"It's alright, that's it." A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears leaking from your eyes.

"Nnnrgh-"

"I know, I know. Poor thing." He coos, and it sounds so... endearing, so sweet yet... frightening, like the poison of a predator, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.

"H-hurts." You cry as he rolls you back into your original position. "It hurts."

"I know it does, sweet girl. We're going to fix it." He dabs a cloth on your face, across your forehead and then down to clean your mouth up, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, concern rife in his features.

"Poor baby. Were ye sick?" You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, encouraging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you've had a few sips with a gentle 'not too much'.

"Who are you?" You smack your lips. The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it's well water, maybe?

"I'm Johnny." He's setting up something, beside you. You can see him organizing something, but can't quite make them out due to your lack of mobility. "An' this is Simon. Or Si. But ye probably won't be callin' him that quite yet." Johnny and Simon. Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can't you remember?

"What happened?" You try again, gritting your teeth against the pain.

"Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about this yesterday? Ye slid off the road, ended up in a thick of trees. Ye're lucky the one didnae impale ye." Impale?

"And you found me?" You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?

"Aye, we did. Pulled ye free, brought ye home." Home?

"We couldn't leave you to die, and the storm is pretty bad. Pass is closed." Simon offers as an explanation, and you close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed.

"Thank... thank you." Johnny hums, and then to your complete shock, leans forward, brushing his lips against yours as you blink furiously.

"Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we wouldnae." What?

"Do what?" The broad one, Simon, casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He's got a piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them. Do what?

"Bite down on this, precious." Simon instructs, placing it against your bottom lip, to which you jerk away in protest with a whimper.

"Do what?" You try again.

"We need to set your humerus, and clavicle." Set your humerus? And your-

Oh. Oh no.

"N-no. No, you ca-can't." You stutter, but Johnny gives you a sad look, shifting on the bed to place a hand on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm against your good shoulder, the one that doesn't hurt. His hand is warm, so warm against you, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong... intimate. "Please, don't. Please, please-"

"It's alright." He shushes you, and the pressure against your body increases as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather into your mouth, bracing a hand above your elbow, and below your shoulder on the side that hurts. You gasp for air, fear shaking your body, and Johnny coos at you, telling you you'll be alright, that you're with them now and they'll take care of you, that it will only hurt for a little. "Ye'll probably pass out, bonnie. We'll get the second one done while ye're down, and I already gave ye something for the pain." He assures, like it's supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon's grip.

This can't be happening. How can this happen? No, nononono-

There's a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating agony that's delivered to your arm like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it's way out of your throat. You think you're crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, everything all at once. It hurts. It hurts so bad, it hurts-

"We're sorry, we're sorry." Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your mind starting to sever itself from your body, floating away as you slip inside a dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to unconscious as they both stare down at you, sickeningly sweet concern layered overtop the faces of a bear and a wolf, predators licking their maws in preparation, waiting to devour their prey.

#peaches writes #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader

[etherealyoungk]

soft, shy wonwoo falling in love for the first time wonwoo x reader/ fluff/ 855

wonwoo sees you for the first time at a mutual friend's party, he thinks you're the prettiest person in the room. he finds himself looking across the room where you're standing, looking lost, like you didn't want to be there and he's mentally trying to build up the courage to say hi to you. until you spot him looking at you and he fumbles when he's caught and gives you a small wave in panic before he looks away. so that's how you find yourself making your way towards wonwoo and you introduce yourself.

wonwoo would slowly fall in love and he wouldn't even know it until he was completely in love with you. he'd find himself thinking about you more often, and look around for you during lunch breaks on campus. he'd leave little snacks and drinks by your locker or your desk when you were passing by and they would always be your favourites.

wonwoo becomes a fumbling mess with his words when you approach him and strike up a conversation with him and he's barely listening to what you're saying because he's caught up on how pretty you looked. his heart beats a little too fast as he watches you smile that gorgeous smile and the way you laugh after telling him something, watching the way your eyes light up when you speak.

wonwoo walking you home when he finds out you were working a night shift and he comes to the store when you're closing, trying to act like he was just passing by, telling you that he was just in the neighbourhood and saw you so he thought he'd come and say hi. you smile when you see him and he offers to wait as you finish the closing shift and walks you home, draping his jacket on your shoulders when he notices the small goosebumps on your arms from the chilly air.

wonwoo letting you copy his notes because you were stressed about the exam and missed the class. mingyu watches, bewildered because wonwoo never let anyone copy his notes or ever offered it. so the fact that he was letting you was something life-altering in mingyu's eyes.

"you like yn don't you?", mingyu probes wonwoo when they're back at their shared apartment.

wonwoo doesn't deny it, the silence being his answer as well as the soft smile on his face at the mention and thought of you.

"you should tell them", mingyu encourages. "you know the other day, i saw someone else hitting on them, don't lose your chance buddy", mingyu tells wonwoo, whose ears perk up at this information. but little did he know that mingyu was lying. he just wanted his shy, quiet friend to do something bold for once.

so that's how wonwoo, a man who is usually reserved, quiet and shy finds himself looking for you with a determined stride as he walks to your part-time place the next night. except it's early, so it's still full of customers. you're surprised to see wonwoo again and he smiles softly at you, his soft, fluffy hair falling over his forehead, his glasses resting on his handsome face.

it's when you're walking back with wonwoo a few hours later that he finally decides to tell you what's been weighing on his heart and mind for a while.

"you don't have to come over every night", you tell wonwoo, having noticed he came by on purpose to walk you home and the gesture and thought made you smile at his soft and caring affection.

"i like to, i want to", he tells without missing a beat as he glances at you. "i like being with you", wonwoo adds softly, and there was something about the way he said it, so sweetly, that makes your heart flutter for a moment.

wonwoo musters up the courage to ask you, unsure, but he still does because it was either now or never.

"are you free this weekend?", he asks, hopeful.

"i am! why?", you ask as you glance at wonwoo, who seems to fumble with his next few words.

"can we go out? for dinner-or- wait-maybe coffee because dinner sounds too straightforward", he says in a rush that you chuckle and he runs a hand through his hair, feeling nervous.

"can we maybe go out for coffee sometime?", wonwoo asks again. "i mean do you want to?", he corrects and you stop walking, facing wonwoo as he looks at you flustered, feeling shy.

"god i don't know how to do this", he admits, letting out a nervous chuckle, his glasses falling forward a bit as he looks down, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat, feeling like he just blew his chance, feeling hopeless.

"i'll be more than happy to go out for coffee with you", you tell and he quips his head up to look at you. you're smiling that smile he's fallen in love with and his heart skips a beat.

"really?", he asks and you nod.

"even if i am a mess?", he asks and you laugh even more. "yes, even if you were a mess because you're adorable", you tell which somehow seems to console wonwoo and ease his racing heart.

he smiles at you, giving you a bashful grin before you both continue to walk, the evening breeze stirring through the air.

taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @blue-jisungs @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @wootify @n4mj00nvq @joshuaahong @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii

#i love wonwoo <3 #k-labels #caratlibrary #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen soft hours #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt soft hours #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo x reader

[vhagarlovebot]

MAKE THE FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS, TAKE THE MOMENT AND TASTE IT | AEMOND TARGARYEN

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU summary: in wich aemond is not afraid to make his move. very, very publicly, making the whole internet go insane. pairings: actor!aemond x singer!reader content warnings: faceclaim is sabrina carpenter but you can imagine reader as you'd like, some cursing, taylor swift/travis kelce inspired plot, use of y/n because it is necessary!! if you don’t like it, sorry. note: omg i can't believe i'm doing this, hope you enjoy this piece little piece as much as i enjoyed making it! as i say; being delulu is the solulu. and here i am feeding into all out delusions. comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! love you, mwah. 💋

TWITTER ‣ AUG 12, 2023.

INSTAGRAM ‣ AUG 12, 2023.

INSTAGRAM ‣ AUG 13, 2023.

Liked by taylorswift, aemondtargaryen, gracieabrams and 1,221,948 others

yourusername oldtown i couldn’t love you more. had the best first night with you and we still have three more to go! thanks so much to everyone there, i couldn't do this whout you. see you tonight for round 2? 🤍

view all 9,328 comments

user1 i can't believe i couldn't be there

zendaya had the best night with u!

yourusername thank u sm for coming, love you. 💗

user2 MOTHER IS MOTHERING

user3 i don't now if i wanna be her or if i wanna be with her

user4 I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU BUT I SEE AEMOND TARGARYEN IN HER LIKES

user5 I THOUGHT IT WAS A MISTAKE AT FIRST user6 I mean he was at Oldtown night1 so... user7 HE WENT TO HER CONCERT? user8 BESTIE HAVE YOU NOT SEEN THE PICS?

troyesivan see you 2night oldtown. ✌️

AEMOND TARGARYEN INTERVIEW ‣ AUG 25, 2023.

TWITTER ‣ AUG 25-26, 2023.

INSTAGRAM ‣ SEPT 21, 2023.

Liked by jace_velaryon, therhaenatarg and 891,648 others

fairyhelaena friends and family for the weekend @ highgarden. 💚🌺🪴🍃🕊️

view all 4,778 comments

lucerys03 looking 💯 as always.

baelatarg stop lying to yourself

user9 OH MY GOD IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS

user10 is that @yourusername in the second slide???

user11 yes!! she's in the fourth one too

yourusername 🤍🤍🤍

user12 it's impossible that she doesn't know about what aemond said, right? user13 knowing how jace is i'm sure she already knows. they probably were giving her a hard time lol

user14 Y/N hanging out with aemond's family but not him would never not make me laugh

user15 he's out there telling the world he likes her and she still hasn't say anything user16 and she doesn't have to. leave the poor girl alone user17 i mean she spent the whole weekend with aemond's sister and nephews, maybe he was there too user18 sorry to disappoint you but he's in king's landing user19 bro must be fuming, everyone in his family meeting his girl except for him

Liked by oliviarodrigo, nicholasgalitzine, aemondtargaryen and 955,899 others

yourusername took a couple of days off to hang out with some friends. see you in a bit for the second and final leg of the cruel summer tour! 💌

view all 11,565 comments

user20 she's glowing

user21 wait- i feel like i've seen that guy before

user22 that's because he's aemond's nephew and also an actor

fairyhelaena my pretty 🌟

user23 THAT'S LUKE VELARYON???????

user24 HE IS !!!!! user25 yes he is, she was with aemond's family during the weekend

user26 idk why but i have the feeling that aemond saw these pics and ran to call luke

user27 and was probably screaming at him for an hour lol user28 another reason for aemond to hate him user29 he doesn't hate him, he's family user28 you can hate family user30 stfu it is well known that they have had their differences but they're in good terms now user31 besides who are we to talk about it? that's private. there are comments under aemond's posts of them joking with each other lol user30 idk why she's talking shit.

user32 WHY IS SHE WITH HIS FAMILY BUT NOT WITH HIM?

user33 what world are we living in

iMESSAGE ‣ SEPT 31, 2023.

TWITTER ‣ OCT 10, 2023.

TWITTER ‣ OCT 28, 2023.

TWITTER ‣ DEC 04, 2023.

let me give you a kiss if you make it here! and let me know if you'd like a part 2 of this little smau. as i said comments & reblog are greatly appreciated!

#📮 ⌇ my works ​˖⋆࿐ #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd smau #social media au #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #modern!aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you

[newluvrs]

Sungchan ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎  mdni!! 18+ currently listening to: VENUS AS A BOY - BJORK word count: 3k bb note: sungchan is so Venus as a boy coded

Its 4:37 a.m. when you finally close your laptop for the evening.  Your skin feels like shit and you’re practically vibrating from the amount of espresso shots that were in your iced latte.  You haven’t moved from your desk since noon, only taking miniature breaks to go take a piss and grab a quick snack.  Finals week always makes you feel barely human.  When you finally turn off dnd on your phone, your met with a trillion notifications, but only a specific person holds all your attention.  Your heart lurches when you see Sungchan’s name under missed calls, you almost feel guilty recalling your demand you made earlier this week, almost. 

-

“Are you serious?”

“Sungchan, please I am quite literally begging.” 

“Baby, I just don’t understand why you don’t want to study with me...” 

You know damn well he knows why and just wants to make you say it.  You look at him with a bored expression on your face.

“You’re distracting.”

When he feigns confusion at your simple response, you roll your eyes before continuing.  

“Fine.  If you want me to be vulgar I’ll be vulgar.  We both know that I want to fuck you all the time.  You know that it only gets worse when I’m stressed.  I can’t sit there with you and just study when 90% of the time all I can think about is jumping your bones.”

“90% of the time, huh?” 

You want to kiss the stupid smug grin off of his face, but you settle instead for turning your back to him, trying to steel your resolve.  

“It’ll only be a week… it can’t be that hard, right?”

-

Except that’s absolutely not true because why would he ever make things easy for you?  It’s only been a few days since, and you can no longer count on both hands the amount of times you have had to stop yourself from driving to his place. It’s not even his fault, for the most part.  Your boyfriend is just so hot.  You swear BeReal is plotting against you when the timer has just so happened to go off every day this week when he’s in the gym.  How are you supposed to contain yourself when he walks around looking like that, and always so willing to give you what you want.  You’ve had to pause in the middle of studying a couple of times this week just to get yourself off.  Truly you are no better than a man.  

Sungchan himself has pleaded with you a couple of times to just let him come see you.  Trying to explain to you that you’re being ridiculous.  In his head he can’t understand why you won’t just let him be there to help relieve your stress.  He knows that you’re the insatiable one in this relationship.  You having explained to him after you first slept together that your sex drive tended to be high.  And he’s always been more than willing to help you out, whether it be fucking you exactly the way you need after a long day or bringing you to a tender release with his mouth first thing in the morning before you go to work.  He knows exactly what you need when you need it, so he can’t understand why you’re torturing yourself (and him) now. 

chan <3: plz let me come over 

Needless to say you absolutely weren’t expecting to receive a message from him this late at night.  

You: Why r u up??? 

chan <3: ochem :/

chan <3: I need to see u :(

You want to ignore the message, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t subconsciously press your thighs together.  All you’ve been able to think about since you last saw him is how bad you need him.  You can only do so much with your own fingers, and each time you get off has just been less and less satisfying.  Before you even get a chance to respond another message comes through. 

chan <3: im coming over

Immediately you rush to jump in the shower, not exactly feeling the most desirable in the ratty t-shirt you’ve been wearing for the last 2 days and your unwashed hair.  You tell yourself you’re not gonna let him stay over.  That all you’re gonna do is give him a quick kiss and a hug, just so that both of you can see that the other is doing fine.  And then you’re gonna tell him that you’ll see him in a few more days, after your last exam.  You say this to yourself even as you forego throwing on a bra.  You say this to yourself again as you pull up your sleeping shorts without putting on any underwear.  You tell yourself this one last time as you climb under your sheets, making yourself comfortable against your pillows.  When the familiar sound of your apartment door unlocking finally comes, you feel yourself become nervous suddenly, voice shaking as you holler that you’re in your bedroom.  

You try your best to act like you weren’t waiting for him, but you fail when as soon as you see him standing in your doorway you immediately open your arms wide for him to join you.  He lays himself next to you in your bed, wrapping his arms around your middle resting his head on your chest as you leave kisses on his forehead.  Immediately you feel comforted by his presence, your mood doing a 180. The both of you stay like this for a moment, just holding each other, feeling the exhaustion in your bones.  It’s him who breaks the silence. 

“Missed you.”  

He looks up at you when he says it, his tired eyes making your heart turn.  You can tell that he also just showered, his hair slightly damp and face covered in a light sheen from his skincare products, pimple patches and all.  You love being with him like this, tired and both of your faces bare, it feels like the both of you truly see each other.  

“”m so tired.” 

You sigh as you rub your eyes, truly you’re so exhausted.  Stress has been wrecking your body and making you feel wound too tight.  Not seeing Sungchan has only made it worse, making you feel touch starved and lonely on top of everything else.  He can already tell without you having to say it that it’s been a long couple of days for you.  He knows how hard you can push yourself to succeed.  Being told your whole life that you’re a hard worker only fueled your anxieties of being the best you could be, afraid to let everyone down.

“Let me take care of you.”  

You look down at him still resting his chin on your chest as he says so, his pretty lips pulled into a pout.  

“Just want to help you relieve your stress, will you let me do that for you baby?”  

You feel your pussy throb at this.  It makes you feel good to know that just as much as you always want Sungchan, he always wants you too.  When you don’t say anything he moves to slot himself between your legs, planting soft kisses against your jaw.

“I need to make my pretty girl feel good.  All I’ve been able to think about these last few days is fucking you.”

You can feel that he’s already half-hard as he rocks his hips against yours, a gentle sigh falling from your mouth at the smallest bit of pleasure.  

“..please.”  

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s pushing your shirt up to your hips, his hands moving to your waist as he pulls you fully against him.  He moves his lips gently against yours as you softly moan into his mouth.  You feel so sleepy even right now, everything feeling like a dream as he grinds against you, panting into your mouth.  

“Felt like I was going crazy without you.  I was waiting for a call from you, telling me that you needed me and I was ready to drop everything.  You’re all I could think about.”  

You might be the insatiable one in this relationship but Sungchan is a close second.  For every time that you needed him to make you feel good, there was a time where he needed to make you feel good.  There’s nothing in this world hotter to him than the effect he has on you.  

“Your stupid fucking BeReals made me have to take several… study breaks.”  

Your ears burn hot as you admit this, casting your eyes to between your bodies watching as Sungchan rolls his hips into yours.  Heat blooming in your chest seeing the way the two of you fit perfectly together.

“I wanted to cave so many times… I’m happy you came over.” 

His heart swells in his chest hearing you say this. Placing a tender kiss against your cheek before he pulls away to pull your shorts off.  When he comes face to face with your bare cunt when he was expecting panties, he feels like he’s gonna combust.  

“Jesus y/n, you drive me fucking crazy.”  

He wants to be cocky about it, tease you for having such shit resolve when it comes to him, but he’s so hard it hurts.  You look so soft and tender, hair still damp from the shower, your old t-shirt still on along with your glasses.  He leans on an elbow as he reaches a hand down to play with you, when his fingers brush against your core you’re already soaked. When he looks up at you in silent awe your hands are covering your face, trying to shy away from his gaze.  

“I can’t help it..” You mumble out from behind your hands.  

He doesn’t want to make you wait any longer, slipping two fingers up and down your slit, coating them in your wetness.  He rubs them along your clit briefly just to hear your gasps, rutting his cock against your thigh as he does so.  He moves to pull your hands away from your face as he lines his fingers up with your hole.  Pressing them in he revels in the way you shut your eyes in bliss, mouth falling open.  He feels cocky now, smirking to himself at the way you moan when he crooks them up once they’re fully inside, rubbing up against your top wall.  

“Sungchan fuck..” 

You reach out for him, pulling him down to kiss you while his fingers play with you.  You stay like this for awhile, just making out as his fingers play with you.  He slides in a third to feel the way you gasp into his mouth.  When you arch your chest into his he almost dies at the way he can feel your nipples through your t-shirt.  

“You’re so needy, baby.”  

He presses kisses all over your face as he says this, sliding his fingers out of you to give your clit some more attention.  

“Why are your clothes still on.. this is so unfair.” 

He laughs to himself when you say this, finding it cute the way you try to make demands even as your body is twitching, caving in on itself from the pleasure.  

“Sorry baby, ‘m just gonna make you cum like this real quick, and then I’ll take them off, deal?” 

You can’t even process what he’s saying anymore, just nodding your head as you rock your hips up into his hand.  He slips his fingers back into your cunt, palm grinding into your clit as he finger fucks you.  You’re so distracted by his fingers you don’t even notice that he’s pushed your shirt up to your tits until you feel his mouth wrap around one of your nipples.  Unsure what to do with your hands, all you can do is claw at the sheets, body so overwhelmed from the pleasure.

You cum just like this, the only warning Sungchan gets is the way your body seizes up, your moans reaching a whinier pitch.  He groans at the feeling of you sporadically clenching around his fingers as he fucks you through your orgasm.  Only coming to a halt when you try and push his hand away.  You shudder as he pulls his fingers out, your throat feeling dry as you lay there, boneless.  He’s tender with the way he treats you after, leaving kisses all over your face.  

“So good to me baby, you feel better?”

You nod your head, slowly blinking, still trying to come down from your first high.  When you finally find the words to speak there’s only one thing you can say.

“Goddamn.”

You don’t even care that he smirks to himself at your comment, he deserves to be cocky right now.  When he moves back between your legs, you can already feel heat blooming again, setting your nerves alight.  You can see how hard he is through his sweats, dick straining against the fabric.  Sungchan already knows that cumming once is never enough for you, which is why you want to slap the smug grin off of his face when you hear him ask,

“You want to go again?” 

When you glare at him trying to seem threatening, he can only laugh at how cute you are.  Bringing his lips to yours to kiss the pout off your face.  He leans back on his heels to pull his long sleeve over his head.  You feel yourself throb when you see his body.  You were never one to care about muscles or whether or not someone goes to the gym, but you can’t help but admire all of Sungchan’s hard work.  

“Chan, you’re so handsome.” 

Sungchan feels himself blush at the compliment, filling with pride when you admire him so openly.  He goes to pull down his sweats, freeing his dick from the restrictive fabric.  

“You’re gonna sit there and tease me for not wearing panties, when you show up at my door without boxers on under your sweats?”  

You can’t even sound mean right now because you just feel desperate.  Trying to sound authoritative while simultaneously spreading your legs a little wider to make room for him.  

“Can’t help it I needed to make myself easily accessible to my baby.”  

Now it’s your turn to blush, rolling your eyes like you’re not affected.  He digs a condom from his pocket before sliding it on, you want to make a joke about why it was there in the first place, but the joke dies in your throat when he’s finally lining himself up between your legs.  He runs the head of his cock up and down your slit a few times before finally, finally, pushing in to your wet heat.  The stretch is so good, as he gentle eases himself into you, bringing a hand to thumb at your clit.  The slide easy with how wet you already were from your previous orgasm.  Sungchan loves the way your body opens up for him so easily.  

When he finally bottoms out, both of you just sit there panting.  You take in the sleepy look on Sungchan’s face and think about how yours must mirror his, recalling how it’s close to 6 a.m. now.  You bring a hand up to his cheek, just looking at him as you whine from how deep he feels in you, making you feel so full.  When you finally nod for him to start moving, he pulls out slowly before pushing back in just as slowly, hips reaching deep within you.  Sungchan knows that now is one of those times where you just needed to feel him close.  He fucks you just like this, slow but making sure to sink all the way in each time so you feel full.  

You’re so tired your eyes are starting to slip closed at the pleasure, just feeling so good and so sleepy.  Sungchan sees this and brings himself up to murmur against your ear.

“‘m I fucking you good?”  

All you can do is nod your head, gasping out each time he reaches deep within you.  

“’m I fucking you like you deserve?”  

When he feels you clench around him he keeps talking.

“My needy girl deserves to be fucked exactly how she likes.  You’ve been working so hard baby, just let me take care of you.  Let your pretty boy fuck you good.”  

Sungchan pulls away to rest his head in the crook of your neck, hips picking up the pace.  You bring a shaky hand to the one he has stationed by your head, urging him to lace his fingers with yours.  His heart feeling tender at the action, the gentle affection a heavy contrast to the way his hips are repeatedly rutting into yours.  The both of you are fighting to stay awake, fueled by the need to get each other off.  Sungchan knows you’re close when your moans start to change in pitch.

“You gonna cum?” 

Your eyes are squeezed shut as you hum a simple “mhm” back to him.  Sungchan uses all the energy he has left to fuck into that tender spot within you, hips refusing to let up.  

“Cum pretty girl, then we can go to sleep.” 

You just nod your head, wrapping your arms around him, trying to bring your face to his.  Sungchan takes the hint, softly pressing his lips to yours as he fucks into you one, two, three more times before you’re whimpering against him, body twitching as he feels you seize up around him.  He follows close behind, spilling into the condom as you twitch around him, fighting to keep your eyes open so you can see the way his face contorts from the bliss.  When he’s done going through the motions, he pulls out of you, hissing from the sensitivity.  He disposes of the condom before pulling his sweats back up, cleaning you up quickly with a damp towel trying his best to be gentle, putting a clean pair of underwear on you before finally sliding next to you in your bed.  

When he cuts the lights off you can see that the sun is starting to shine, both of your eyes feeling heavy as he wraps himself around you.  Before you both doze off you hear him mumble one last thing.

“I really did miss you.” 

You smile to yourself, placing a kiss on his pouty lips. 

“I missed you more Chan.”  

#riize smut #riize x reader #sungchan #sungchan x reader #sungchan smut #riize hard hours #sungchan hard hours

[its-time-to-write]

hello! First thing first, I want to say how much of a good writer you are, I hope you know this 💕 second I have this idea of reader and Jamie dating, but nobody knows. One day reader is in the coaches room and starts yawning and Roy is like what's that 🤨 (something similar to that scene with beard after he gets back with jane) and reader answers with "you have been waking me up everyday at 4 am" or smt like that and this is how everyone finds out. I know you have already written something like this but I thought it was cute, so feel free to ignore

this was cute. you were right.

coffee at midnight

Neither you nor Jamie exactly decided to keep your relationship a secret.

“It’s not a secret, it’s private, babe,” Jamie insists. You just roll your eyes.

But like, it is private.

That means no instagram posts, no public dates, and no unasked opinions. It also means that Jamie gets a Polaroid camera (“so we don’t get hacked, babe,”), plans dates in his giant house, and keeps fans’ noses out of your relationship.

It also, also means that Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re in Jamie’s bed every morning when he knocks on the door loud enough to wake the dead.

You’re a week into these shenanigans, and you’re not sure how much longer you can handle it. You’ve barely been at Nelson Road for an hour, but you’ve yawned more than you’ve spoken. Jamie’s been sending you apologetic looks every time he passes you in the hall, but now the entire team is in the weight room as you bring the coaches their coffee.

You place Roy’s in front of him and he asks, “The fuck’s wrong with you?”

You glare. “Nothing. That’s rude to ask, anyway. I’m-” you pause to yawn- “fine.”

Ted looks between you and Roy. “Normally I’d side with the lady on this one, but you look dead on your feet. You been sleepin’ okay?”

“Yes,” you reply shortly. “I’ve been sleeping fine. I just don’t get a lot of it these days.”

“That sounds decidedly un-sexy,” Trent calls from his desk.

You snarl, “It isn’t,” then realize that Trent is undeserving of your anger. “I’m sorry. I’ve been getting like five hours of sleep every night this whole week. Me and my boyfriend just moved in together and we both talk like way too much. So we usually don’t fall asleep until late.”

The room fills with whistles and hoots from Ted, Beard, and Trent. Roy is stoic as always.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Ted grins. “What’s his name?”

You hesitate. You’re pretty sure Jamie would be okay if you told Ted, but you’re not sure you really want to. You let the silence stretch on for a beat too long, and Trent’s on you like a vulture.

“It’s someone here, isn’t it?” he asks.

“No,” you reply, but it’s not convincing. It’s hard for you to lie when you’re this tired.

Jamie and Sam choose this exact moment to come into the locker room to grab water bottles. Jamie glances at you and you make the mistake of glancing back. It’s just for a second but Trent catches it with his stupid eagle-eyes.

“Oh shit,” he says.

You round on him. Maybe he does deserve your anger. “Don’t say anything,” you warn.

He zips his lips as Roy says, “Why are you being so fucking weird? We know you’re fucking lying. Just say which of these little pricks you’re dating and get some sleep like a fucking normal adult.”

“I’d be able to get regular sleep, except you’ve been waking me up at fucking 4am!” you explode.

The room goes silent. 

“Fuuuck,” Roy whispers. “Fucking Tartt? You’re dating- fuck, you moved in with fucking Tartt?”

“Yes,” you groan, “We’ve been together for six months and it’s probably the most serious relationship I’ve ever been in, and I know how it sounds but we really like each other. Higgins already knows because of HR shit but other than that, it’s been private.”

Ted and Beard have matching open-mouthed smiles. It would be a little scary if you hadn’t known them for as long as you have.

“That’s the most adorable shit I’ve ever heard in my whole life,” Beard says.

“Hold on,” Trent interjects, “does this mean you and Jamie have been staying up late every night talking?”

“Yes,” you reply primly. “And then this prick bangs on our door at fuck-thirty in the morning and I’m awake for the rest of the day.”

Roy says, “Right,” very slowly. “Is that fucking why he wasn’t wearing fucking trousers?”

All eyes turn to you.

“I’m not answering that,” you say. “In fact, I think I hear Higgins calling me. I have to leave right now.” You back out of the room and down the hall before anyone can say anything else.

The coaches’ office is silent for a moment before they all clamor out of their seats to chase you down the hall. They have so many questions but first, they’re going to yell at Higgins for keeping it a secret.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[eideticmemory]

ALONE TOGETHER | SPENCER REID

A chance meeting on a dating app spirals into an odd type of…friendship? Relationship? Who knows, but it means a lot to you.

Word Count: 8.6k

Warning/Includes: Excessive smut, fluff, 7 year age gap.

You are so sick of crying. You are nauseated from lying in bed, staring at a ceiling fan that does nothing but spin. You’re angry. You’re restless. You’re impulsive. And it is this impulse that takes you on Bumble, but more specifically, makes you set you preferred range between the ages of exactly twenty-eight and forty. You think, I just need someone to pay attention to me. You think, I need someone to make this go away because I just can’t.

Old men are gross, but they like you. They just can’t get enough of you. You’re flooded with hundreds of admirers, but you rarely match with any of them. You swipe. You swipe again. Again and again and it is with the teeniest, tiniest little bit of hope that you wish for someone to take your breath away. You wish for a man with a pretty face and kind eyes and a name that sounds nice when you say it with a moan.

And there he is.

Spencer. Age 30. 5 miles away.

You actually gasp.

You swipe right and it is a match!

You gasp!

It’s up to you to make the first move. There’s prompts you could send, questions you could ask, and just down the street, Spencer, who has just landed back home recieves a message only saying -

Hey :)

He immediately covers the notification on his phone as he exits the jet. When he swiped on your profile, truthfully, he didn’t expect a match. Let alone a message. So in less than three seconds, he becomes anxious and flustered and cannot stop shaking his hands because he can’t feel his fingertips.

He waits until he’s alone to message you back. He has no idea what to say, no idea if you’re even still interested, but down the street, you are lying on your belly and kicking your feet and you get a reply -

Hi, [y/n] :) How are you?

It’s not a lot but Spencer feels like he’s going to pass out.

You squeal, cover your mouth and type: Good! How are you?

And Spencer doesn’t even know how to answer the question. It’s not a hard question, it’s not a trick question, but he can’t figure out what to say so he stays objective.

I’m okay. I’m leaving work now.

You furrow your eyebrows, A little late, isn’t it?

He chuckles under his breath, Kind of early for me, actually.

Here, is where you decided to get bold. You make the decision before you even figure out what to say. How to say it.

I’m sure you’re worn out from a long day. Was hoping I could see you tonight. If not, maybe another time?

And aside from the millions of things that rush through his head, that are always rushing through his head, the first thing he thinks is: Oh, god, I wish Morgan were here. Although Spencer’s a little mad at him at the moment, he knows Morgan would tell him what to say. But no one’s here. It’s just him, pacing the empty halls of the bureau, a satchel with tums in it, and a pretty girl trapped inside his phone that wants to see him in person.

He types and he goes back, he types and he goes back, and then he asks, Do you like coffee?

You smile as you type, I love coffee.

So he has you meet him at this coffee shop in town. You stand outside, cradled in a cozy jacket, your hands stuffed in your pockets. Spencer sees you before you see him. And anyone with common sense would’ve walked up to you right away. Except, Spencer doesn’t really have common sense. He’s worried that you’ll figure that out. Still, he walks over to you and you’re only alerted by the sound of his timid footsteps. You turn to him with a grand smile and he immediately forgets how to breathe.

“Hi,” you greet him, holding your hand out. “Spencer?”

He looks down at your hand and then back at you and then back at the floor and your brain goes: ???

“Are you…not Spencer?”

“No, no, I am. Me…Spencer, yes. I just…I don’t like to shake hands.”

“Oh,” you retract, hold your hands behind your back.

“I mean not that there’s anything wrong about your particular hands. They’re just dirty- Not! Not-you’re not dirty, I know, you smell really good. I…” he stops, takes a breath, “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering, it’s actually, uh, safer to kiss.”

You tilt your head at him for two reasons. One, because you cannot believe he just used the word pathogens in casual conversation. And two, because you take his fun fact as a challenge that is readily accepted. You step towards him, slowly, because with the way his eyes go wide, it looks like he might run away. He grips onto the strap on his satchel so hard that his knuckles turn paper white. He goes cross eyed trying to look at your face as you lean in. And with a tiny smirk on your face, you press your lips to his.

It’s kinda, awkward. Spencer stays frozen in place and you mush your face into his and he doesn’t start to lean into you until the last second.

His face has gone bright red and you smile and say, “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice t-to meet you,” he stutters.

You look around, “What is this place?”

“Oh, um, it’s, uh, it’s a coffee shop. It’s also a library. It’s, uh, it’s open late and I come here a lot when I can’t sleep.”

“It’s cute,” you smile.

He holds the door open for you and buys you a latte and you two sit at a table by the window. You sit in silence for a minute, neither of you really sure what to say and then when you do go to speak, you do it at the same time. It cuts the tension and you both laugh.

“You go first,” you tell him.

“I, uh, I was just going to ask if you’re from here?”

“Oh, oh no, I just moved here for med school. I’m in my first year at Georgetown.”

“Oh! Nice. That’s cool.”

“Yeah, it’s alright so far. We’ll see how I’m doing in the spring.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

You smile, “What do you do? What has you getting off work so late?”

“I’m, um, I’m a profiler…for the FBI. I, uh…”

“Analyze criminal behavior,” you nod. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard of that. I love forensic sciences.”

He can’t help but smile at you, “Yeah. It’s tiring but I like it,” he shrugs.

The conversation goes dead again and you sip on your latte, “Should we…should we just keep asking each other questions?”

“I guess so.”

“Okay, I asked the last question so it’s your turn.”

“Um…” he ponders. “What’s your favorite color?”

You snicker and he instantly puts his face in his hands out of embarrassment. You giggle, “My favorite color? Seriously?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else,” he shakes his head, smiling, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Blue. You?”

“Purple.”

“Ooh, that’s a fun one.”

“I like it. Okay, your turn.”

“Okay, um, what’s your biggest fear?”

He raises his eyebrows at you.

“What? We got the favorite colors out of the way.”

He nods, agreeing, “Having nothing to show for my life.”

You nod, “Same. Your turn.”

“Why do you want to be a doctor?”

“Oh. You got me with that one. Um…because I’m not squeamish and I’m good under pressure and I want…to make a difference. Y’know, actually do something with all this ambition. Aaaand, I’m good with anatomy. I’m good with people. I like medicine.”

“Did you say all of that in your interview?”

“That’s two questions…” you grin.

He chuckles, “You can ask me two.”

“No…I told them what they wanted to hear. And admissions doesn’t wanna hear that you’re doing this for yourself. They wanna hear that you’re selfless, Mother Theresa, Princess Diana selfless.”

“And you’re not selfless?”

“That’s three!”

“Okay, okay, your turn,” he laughs.

“How’d you get into the FBI?”

“Um, about 8 years, 11 months and 3 days ago, I attended a lecture on criminology hosted by some members of the BAU. I…became fixated. I wanted to join. I wanted to make a difference-“

“Oh now you’re just copying me.”

He chuckles, “I applied and, uh, yeah.”

“That’s so cool,” you tell him. “So you’ve been working there since you were…22?”

“Yes.”

“How did you become a profiler at 22? It takes forever, I thought?”

“That’s three!” he laughs.

“Oh, c’mon! You can’t leave me on a cliffhanger here.”

“I, um, I graduated college when I was 16. Had my Phd at 20. I’m…not the fittest guy so I skipped a lot of physical assessments.”

“16?” you gasp.

“That’s four!”

“20?” you shout. Emphasis on the ???

“That’s five!”

“Oh, no, nuh-uh, forget that, you’re filling me in on this.”

And so, he does. He tells you everything. About the eidetic memory and the IQ of 187 and you just sit there in awe. You fire questions at him and the last one is, “What’s…” you type in your calculator. “34 times 106?”

“That is a different genre of question.”

“But what’s the answer?”

He sighs and shakes his head, “3,604.”

You look at the calculator and he’s right and you gasp, “You’re a fucking genius.”

“That’s what I’ve been told.”

“Are your parents geniuses?” you ask.

“My dad is a…” he pauses. “I guess the colloquial term is deadbeat?”

You burst into laughter but quickly cover your mouth. That’s not funny. But Spencer is smiling.

“And…my mom is…smart. Yeah, she’s a genius.”

“Is she…dead?”

“What?”

“You just got, like, super sad there.”

“She’s not dead. She, uh, she has schizophrenia.”

“Oh. I’m an asshole.”

“A little bit,” he chuckles. “But, I’m-I’m not sad…she’s been that way my whole life.”

You can see on his face that it’s a sore subject, so you say, “Okay. Your turn. Ask me a question.”

And he wants to ask something that will get you talking. Something he can poke around like you have at his brain.

“Who is…” he starts. “Your very best friend?”

He asks this as you’re taking a sip of your latte and you very suddenly slam your cup down on the table.

“Whoa,” he says.

“Sorry.”

“No, no, I’m…I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“I haven’t spoken to her since I moved. Any of them. I…we…we had a disagreement.”

Spencer studies your face, “How many friends are we talking about here?”

“Three,” you spit out. “Three. I’ve had the same three friends since I was twelve and I’m not talking to any of them.” Your hands shake around your mug and you clear your throat, avoid eye contact.

Spencer feels so bad for dulling your light that he doesn’t even know what to say. He knows it’s an illogical guilt, but a strong and pulsating guilt nonetheless.

He watches you take an anxious sip of your drink and he sighs, “Today’s my birthday.”

You almost spit out your latte, your hand flying to your mouth, all of your own thoughts and worries dissipating as you look him in the eye, “You’re…you’re kidding?”

“No.”

“You’re joking. You’re just saying that to distract me. A psychology trick.”

“As of…” he checks his watch. “Twenty-three hours and ten minutes ago, I’m thirty,” he can hardly say it. “Thirty years old.”

You sit for a moment. You realize your mouth is wide open so you close it. You realize your eyes are wide so you shrink them. You stutter, “You’re…not kidding?”

“No. I’m thirty, and I…worked a case for days straight and…and it was awful and we were too late and…I’m scared I’ll sound self-centered…”

“And…” you encourage him.

“And…it wasn’t enough. The case. The chaos. It wasn’t enough. I hoped…I hoped it would help. That I would…that I would get so lost in the rush that…that I’d forget I’m having an emotional crisis. I don’t know how to be thirty. I don’t know how to be an adult. I’m a child progidy…I’m a child prodigy and now I’m thirty so, what does that make me? What am I now?”

The question hangs in the air because you cannot answer it. You just reach across the table, put your hand over his, and trace his knuckles.

He releases a long sigh, “I’m having an emotional crisis and I’m thirty and my-my team…my friends…my family, the closest thing I have to a family…they, um, they forgot. And it was…it was a really bad case, it was a really tough case and it was enough for them to forget. But not me. It wasn’t enough for me.”

He lets you take his hand in yours, your pathogen ridden hand, and he can hardly look you in the eye.

“Hey…” you whisper.

His eyes flicker up to you and he looks so sad.

You give him a small grin, “Let’s get out of here.”

He lets you drag him outside into the cold air and the two of you stand under the soft light.

“Do you drink?” you ask him.

“Um. No. No, I used to do drugs so I’m scared if I drink, I’ll forget to…not do drugs.”

“Oh!” you raise your eyebrows. “Okay, fair enough. So, no weed then?”

“I…” he laughs. “You do know I’m a federal agent?”

“Ah! So scary!”

He cackles, “No marijuana.”

“Marijuana,” you roll your eyes, “Okay…okay…” you look around and the city is asleep. It’s cold. Another block over, there are clubs and people fighting the weather for a chance to party. Spencer does not want to party. “Okay, my place?”

He looks at you, “What are we going to do there?”

“Have a birthday party!”

“I don’t want a party…”

You pout, look around, “Do you want a donut?”

He nods.

You grab a couple donuts from a late night bakery down the road and you drive him back to your place. He grips onto the door as you whip your car into another lane, his breath trembling.

“Dude, chill out,” you tell him. “I’m a good driver.”

“Good…in the way that tsunamis are good waves.”

You look over at him and your eyes lock and he smirks at you. It has you so flustered that you’re quiet for the rest of the drive.

You let him inside your apartment and close the door as you two step into the entryway.

“Okay, wait here,” you tell him, quickly taking the donuts and taking off into the kitchen.

“What? Why?”

“Just wait!”

He can hear you banging around, drawers opening and slamming shut. Things falling to the floor. You muttering, “Shit!” under your breath. You rush by him and into the living, so quickly that his brain can hardly process it.

“Okay!” you call. “Come in!”

He slowly steps inside, a bit anxious at first, but then he sees you and his shoulders relax.

You finish lighting the last candle and look up at him, throw your hands in the air, “Happy birthday!”

His face breaks out in this great, big smile and he can’t help but laugh. It’s not much. One single glazed donut with chocolate, sprinkles and candles on top.

“Three candles?” he questions, stepping over to the coffee table.

You stand beside him as he sits on the couch, “Well, yeah, three because three and then none because zero. Three zero. Thirty!”

He furrows his brows, “Actually-“

“Hush,” you cut him off, putting your hands on his shoulders, “You gotta blow out your candles.”

So he goes to blow them out and you shout, “Wait!” and his heart stops for a second. “I have to sing the song?”

“Oh, no, really, I don’t need the-“

“Haaaaappy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…”

He covers his face to blush and laughs into his hands.

“Happy birthday, dear Spencer, happy birthday to you! Mwah,” you kiss his cheek. “Now make a wish!”

“Okay, I wish-“

“Whoa, stop! What are you doing? You can’t say it out loud, it won’t come true.”

“Well, actually-“

“The candles are melting.”

“Yep, right,” he nods. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, makes a wish and blows out all three candles.

You cheer and clap your hands. You go to remove the candles from his donut and stop, “Oh. Should I? Can I?”

“You’ve already touched it. I think, uh, that ship has sailed.”

You take out the candles and sit down beside him, “Should I have picked it up with my mouth?”

He giggles and picks up his donut, holds it out to you, “Cheers,” he smiles.

You pick yours up from the table and touch it to his, grinning, “Cheers.”

As you eat your donuts together, you can’t help but watch him. “I hope this made your birthday a little better.”

He shoves the last of his donut in his mouth and the corner of his lips is covered in chocolate, “It did,” he says with a full mouth.

You chuckle and lean in, wiping the chocolate from his lip with your finger and sticking it in your mouth.

He watches you, chewing slowly until he swallows and clears his throat, “Is this…is this weird to do with someone you just met on bumble? Genuine question because I have no frame of reference.”

Your mouth turns up in a small smile. And you nod. Slowly, quietly, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s a little weird. But I’m having fun.”

“Me, too.”

You look around, awkwardly rolling your next words around your head until you can say them out loud, “Do you…wanna do something that’s…not weird with someone you met on bumble?

His raises his eyebrows at you, “What’s that?”

You take a sip of water, eyeing him in your peripheral and set down your bottle. You lean your body into his and this time, Spencer is ready. You catch his mouth on yours and he kisses you back, even though his heart is racing under your palm. Your hand travels down his chest, over his tummy, and to the hem of his pants.

His breath catches in his throat as you kiss his neck, “What…what are you doing?”

You pull away and undo his pants, taking his cock in your hand. He whimpers and his body goes limp and you furrow your eyebrows at him, “It’s your birthday?” you explain. And then you kiss him again.

His neck. Down to his chest. Down to his tummy. And Spencer watches you drop down to your knees in front of him and he goes, “Oh, my god,” and he only says it once but his brain keeps going: oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god.

“Is…is this okay?” you ask.

But he can’t talk! He can hardly breathe! You’ve got his dick in your hand and he’s looking at you with these wide eyes and you look perfect and he’s just worried that he’ll bust all over you before you get a chance to do anything. So, he nods. He nods and nods and nods and leans his head back.

You smile and with a few pumps of your hand, his whole body tenses up. He grips onto the couch and struggles to breathe. Then your mouth is on him and he goes limp. Dead weight, not a feeling in his arms or legs or chest, just the warmth of your mouth around his cock, taking it all the way to the back of your throat. His nails scratch at the fabric of the couch and as undignified as it feels, Spencer gets noisey.

You bob your head, up and down, in slow and sticky motions, swirling your tongue over his tip and a loud moan burst from the back of his throat.

“Oh…oh, my god,” he pants.

You move your mouth on him and run your hand up his tummy, feel it heaving up and down in your palm. He nearly breaks a nail on the couch so he grabs onto your hand, squeezes it really tight and groans. The sounds he’s making are so whiny and breathless and sexy that you have to squeeze your thighs together before you go leaking down your legs.

His other hand takes hold of your face, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb. You lean into his palm a bit but you keep your pace, letting him hit the back of your throat, feeling him twitch between your lips. You look up at him and all you can see is the veins on his neck, his jaw clenched tight. His fingers slip through your hair, over your scalp and you hum, but just quietly.

The soft touch encourages you to speed up just a bit. His whole body trembles as you take the base of his cock in your hand and jerk him in unison with your mouth. It overstimulates him immediately and he yells out, gives your hand another tight, tight squeeze.

“Oh-oh, my god, [y/n],” he moans, and you squeeze your thighs tighter.

He doesn’t ever want this to end. And so he fights the fire burning in his belly with everything he’s got, but he knows it’s useless. You’re too good. You’re so good.

He lifts his head and looks down at you, his face red all over and his eyes locked on yours. He holds your hand against his chest, caresses your face softly and lets out these soft, desperate whimpers. His body tenses up, leans towards you a bit and his jaw hangs wide open with very little sound coming out. He gives you this look, maybe a little warning, and then he’s gripping onto your hair and hunched over your body, filling up your mouth and whining into the air.

You put your hands on his waist and keep him in your mouth until he rides it out, falls back onto the couch.

You tower over him, wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and put your hands on his shoulders, “Good?”

“Yes. Wow,” he pants. “Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome,” you smile.

He huffs and he puffs, yet he can’t seem to catch his breath. “You know…” he breathes out. “That entire time…I actually forgot I was thirty.”

You burst into laughter and put your forehead to his, your giggles mirroring one another’s.

Spencer fixes his pants and huffs, “Will you…will you lay with me for a second?”

Your heart melts a little. You climb onto the couch, taking a seat beside him and swinging your legs over his lap.

And you sit like that. For hours. Talking until it’s no longer Spencer’s birthday and he’s just…thirty. You try your best to convince him to stay the night. He declines. And he declines and he declines.

Then he falls asleep in your arms.

In the morning, he wakes up alone and for a one whole minute, he forgets where he is. Then he remembers you and he goes looking for you and finds you in the kitchen.

“Oh,” you smile, “Hi, you. Breakfast?” you hold out the box of cereal that you’re eating out of.

He glances at the box and then back at you and he stares.

“What?” you ask.

“I…” he trails off. “I thought…I thought I dreamt you. For a moment, I thought it all was a dream.”

You tilt your head at him, “I’m very real.”

He chuckles, scratches the back of his head, “And…and the…the…”

“Blowjob?” you laugh. “Yeah, that was real, too.”

“The donuts?”

“Yes,” you laugh. “All of it.”

He continues to stare at you, this soft smile on his face and you hold out the cereal again. Shake it around.

“I’m okay,” he chuckles, stepping over to you. “I should…I should probably get going.”

“Oh, but why?” you whine.

“Because I…need a shower,” he laughs. “And to brush my teeth and lay in bed until I get called in again.”

“Yeah, I should probably start preparing for my lectures this week, too.”

You stare into his pretty, pretty eyes and you set the cereal down, hold his face, “You’re not gonna ghost me are you?”

He furrows his eyebrows, “Ghost you? What does that mean?”

“Oh, I forgot you’re old,” you laugh.

“Stooop,” he whines. “Stooop.”

“Ghost me. You’re not gonna go radio silent? You’re not…not gonna act like this never happened? Like I don’t exist?”

And Spencer instantly thinks: I don’t think I’m ever going to leave you alone. But instead of vocalizing it, he strokes your waist and he says, “No. Of course not.”

And he really meant that.

The next time he got called out on a case, he let you know that he’d be gone for a while but he’d be back. And he’d really, really like to see you when he’s home. He tries his best not to text while working, but when he’s laying in a hotel bed, unable to stop thinking about you and what you’re doing, he opts for a phone call.

“Hey, Sherlock,” you greet him. “Crack the case yet?”

He chuckles, “No. Almost. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were home in a few days.”

“And then you’ll come see me?”

“Yes,” he nods. “I’ll come see you.”

“Good.”

“What about you? How’s your journey to being a selfless doctor going?”

“Terrible. I missed like half of my lecture this morning because I blew a tire on the way.”

“Oh, no, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just hit a pot hole and swerve a little bit but it’s not my first time.”

“Oh?” he nods. “That’s…not good,” he laughs.

“I survived. I’m tough.”

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?” you can hear the little grin in his voice.

You bite down on your lip, “Okay, tell me what’s going on there. Serial killer? Kidnapping?”

“Confidential.”

“Booooo!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. “Um, a couple days ago a body washed up on the beach and…”

You talked until you both were nearly asleep. In the morning, Spencer rolls out of bed and the lack of sleep hits him like a truck, but he thinks about you and your sleepy, soft voice and he smiles. He smiles out the door and down the hall and Morgan strides up beside him.

“Morning, kid,” he says.

“Morning!” Spencer replies and Derek eyes him because it was just sooo cheerful.

Derek bites his tongue for a moment, but is incapable of doing it for any longer so he asks, “Who were you on the phone with last night?”

Spencer trips over his feet at the question and stutters, “O-oh, me? Me? I wasn’t talking to anyone.”

“Mmhmmm,” Derek hums.

“No. N-nope, just the voices in my head.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Spencer comes back home on a Thursday and immediately hops on foot, on a train, to get to your apartment. You open the door for him and pull him inside, taking him in a big hug.

“Hi, you,” you whisper in his ear.

“Hi,” he snuggles into you.

“I made dinner. Pasta. It’s the only thing I know how to make, but there’s plenty. You hungry?”

“Yes,” he nods, pulls out of the hug. “Thank you.”

He goes to walk into the kitchen, but you grab his hand, “Hey, wait,” and you throw yourself into his arms and take him in a long kiss. He grips onto your shirt and goes weak in the knees, smushing his face into yours.

You step back, “Okay, now we can eat.”

He mumbles something incoherent and walks into the wall and you laugh, putting your hands on his shoulders to guide him into the kitchen.

The entire time that you two are hanging out on the couch, his arm around your shoulders, you can feel him looking at you. The one time that you catch his eyes, you lean in for a kiss and he is much more forward when it comes to kissing you back. He pushes his body into yours and a soft moan empties from your lips. It gives him enough courage to drop to his knees in front of you.

“Whoa,” you exclaim. “What are you doing?”

“I…well, I…I wanted to do this for you and I’m ready, I researched it.”

“You…researched how to eat me out?”

“I just want to return the favor.”

“But it’s not my birthday?”

“Is that a…requirement, or?”

“No,” you laugh, cover your face, “Okay. Okay, show me what you learned.”

And so Spencer disappears under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up your thighs and grabbing onto the thin straps of your underwear. He pulls them off your legs and you chuckle as they fly off. His face flushes bright red and he gives you a soft smile, taking a deep breath before he leans in and kisses your thighs. You hum under your breath, spread your legs for him out of instinct.

He’s very timid at first. Peppering gentle kisses on your hips, teasing his tongue on your clit. Then your back arches, his face falls into you and all the notes and research just fall right out of his mind. He wraps his arms around your hips and moves his tongue in this rhythmic up and down motion that he can tell you love so he keeps at it. And at it and at it, stepping off with a sharp suck that makes you yelp.

You rest your head on the couch, licking your lips because they’re so dry from your gasping, your constant moaning. You grip onto his hair and moan his name, only twice because you’re losing your breath. His fingertips press into your skin, spread your pussy open so he can bury his face in you.

Your body starts to twitch and tremble, your toes curling into themselves so tightly that it cuts off circulation. Your voice is high and whiny, growing louder by the second. Spencer feels your thighs tighten around his face and he knows now is not the time to let up. He swirls his tongue over your clit and you tighten your grip on his hair, straining your throat from moaning so loudly. You try to say his name, one last time, but then your back is arching off the couch and your orgasm washes over your entire body. From the tip of your head to the tip of your toes.

Spencer wipes his mouth off with your inner thigh and stands up looking so, very proud.

“Fuck,” you laugh. “What did you read?”

He cackles and gives you a wet kiss on the cheek and then the lips. Immediately after, you push him down and suck him off and as he holds you afterwards, he breathes off, “Remind me to return the favor again.”

“Oh,” you giggle. “Believe me, I will.”

The next few days, you two are inseperable. He spends two consecutive nights at your place, bitching and complaining and listening to each rant for hours at a time. He helps your study for your next exam. It’s not until he gets called out again that real life creeps in. It’s the first time goodbye is really hard.

You joke over the next month that he should just move in. This constant pattern of fly out, fly in, visit and repeat is a lot of run around.

“You’d get sick of me,” he replies.

And you hold him real tight and shake your head, “Never.”

When he’s on his next trip and calls in the middle of your lecture, you only step out and answer because a feeling in your gut tells you something is very wrong. Spencer never calls in the middle of the day. He’d never want to inconvenience you. But, today, it has to be you.

“Hello?” you answer.

“[y/n]? Hey…” he huffs.

He sounds distraught, like his chest is tight as he speaks and you take a seat on the floor, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’m…I think I’m having a panic attack. I think…I think I’m dying.”

“What? What happened? Honey…”

“Just tell me something to calm me down, anything. Anything. Please.”

“Um, um, um, uh,” you sutter. “I think we should have sex.” As you say it, someone walks by giving you a dirty look and you shake it off, wait for Spencer’s response.

His breath has slowed, but just a little, “Oh…that works.”

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “You know, I’ve just been thinking about it. A lot, aaand yeah, when you get back, I-I think we should do that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

“When I see you,” he says. “I know you’re busy and I should get back.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Glad I could help,” you laugh. “Call me back tonight, okay?”

“I will. I miss you.”

You smile to yourself, “I miss you, too.”

When you hang up, you’re happy and giddy, grinning to yourself like a fool. Then you look up to find the same person from before, whispering with their friend as they watch you.

You roll your eyes and shout, “What the fuck are you looking at?” and you walk back into the lecture hall.

The day Spencer tells you they’re flying back, you start preparing. Shaving, showering, spraying on some nice perfume. You walk around your apartment in a silky, short nightgown, lighting candles in the hall and all over your bedroom. When you’re content with the atmosphere, the only thing left to do is wait.

And wait.

And wait.

You check your phone several times and when there is still nothing hours later, you think it’s time to blow out the candles, lay in bed and cry. For a moment, you feel so stupid and confused and angry that you almost throw a lamp at the wall. Then there’s a knock on the door.

Spencer stands there, immediately saying, “Don’t be mad.”

“Too late, I’m mad,” you snip, turning away from him.

He lets himself in and grabs your hand, stutters when he finally notices your nightgown, the candles, “Oh. Wow. You did all this?”

“Spencer!” you whine, crossing your arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I…I bought you a donut,” he holds the bag up to you. “Your favorite. I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad. Not tonight. Any other night but tonight, please?”

Maybe if he wasn’t so good at the kicked puppy eyes, you could’ve held out a little longer. But you’re happy he’s here and your horny and this is happening no matter what time it is. You snatch the bag from his hand and just as quickly as you drop it, you pull his body into your, gripping his waist, your mouth open on his.

He trips over your feet as you pull him down the hall and into your bedroom, the two of you tangled up so tight that you collapse on the bed in one big sweep. He falls on top of you, between your legs, kissing you hungrily.

“Wait,” he huffs, breaking the kiss. “Wait.”

You stare up at him, his face only visible due to the candles, “What is it? Did you…already?”

“What? What? No,” he laughs. “I just…uh…um…I’m not an expert at this. I…I don’t…I’m not experienced in this area and I will do everything I can to make it good for you. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Aw,” you whisper, caressing his face. “Take your clothes off.”

“Huh?”

“Spencer. I’ve been thinking about having sex with you since I first saw your picture on bumble. Now it’s happening and you were late so we gotta catch up.”

You pull him back in for a kiss and reach between your bodies, undoing his pants so you can grab his cock. He gasps and moans into your mouth.

“Don’t overthink it,” you mumble, staring in his eyes, “Just do whatever you want to me.”

He moves his hips forward, stroking himself with your palm and whimpering against your cheek. He starts to kiss your neck, gripping onto your waist, bunching up your nightgown in his hands. You push his shirt up his waist and he quickly pulls it over his head, catching you in a kiss as soon as he can.

“Can I take this off?” he pants, pinching the hem of your clothes. And you sit up, allowing him to pull it right over your head.

His eyes rake down your body, lingering on your breasts, “Can I…?”

“Oh, god, yes, please,” you nod and lay back on the bed, holding your hands above your head.

Spencer chuckles and leans down, taking your nipple into his mouth ever so gently, swirling his tongue around the hard bud. You purr, grab a fistful of his hair, and lick your lips. He presses his body weight onto you, holding your other breast in his hand and sucking on your skin.

“F-fuck,” you moan. “Spencer…”

And he moves to the other side of your chest, now more confident, now unstoppable, flicking his tongue on you so fast that it makes your body twitch. He kisses down your tummy, looks up at you as he slides your panties off, kisses on your thighs. He knows how to do this. He’s good at this, per your review and when he puts his mouth on you, the most broken, whiny little noise falls from your lips.

He hums between your thighs, holding your hips tight and flush against his face. With your moans rattling around his skull, he loses all inhibition. He works his tongue on you slow, methodical, in all the right places. You give his hair a soft tug and he grunts, his hand trailing up your waist. You brace your hands on his biceps, squeezing them between your fingers, sighing out his name.

You hook your legs over his shoulders, tightening your thighs around his face, moving your hips up and down to feel his tongue gliding. Wet and sticky like he’s drowning inside of you.

“Oh, god,” you moan. “Yes, Spencer, yes, yes.”

He moans under his breath, quickening his tongue, clamping his hands down on your thighs. You pull at his hair as your back arches off the bed and your legs tremble around his head. He gives your clit a sharp suck and you cry out, gripping onto his hair at the scalp. And when your voice gets so high and whiny that it could break glass, he knows you’re close and he spreads your pussy open, works his tongue on your clit and doesn’t stop.

Your body tenses up and you hold him tight, tight, tight, crying out his name, your breath catching in your throat. And when you come, you collapse with a long and drawn out groan, shoving your fingers in your mouth to catch your breath.

You instantly reach over to the nightstand and grab the condom that’s been waiting all night to be used. Spencer brings his face back to yours and you kiss him instantly, grinning when you feel him pushing his pants down his legs. He lets you roll the condom onto his hard, leaky cock and asks, “Do-do you wanna be on top?”

“No,” you shake your head, wrap your arms tight around his waist. “Stay on top of me,” you say against his lips, “I like it.”

“Okay,” he nods into a kiss with you and settles between your legs. You help him align, you kiss his neck and hold him close as he pushes his cock into you. The both of you gasp, your noses smushed together. “God…” Spencer moans. “You okay?”

You nod, “Mhm. Are you?”

“Mm…” he hums. “Trying not to explode.”

You two chuckle, catching each other in yet another hungry kiss as Spencer starts to move in and out of you slowly. His breathing in low and jagged, hot against your face. He’s so gentle with you, pushing into you with little pressure and caressing your face.

“H-harder…” you pant. “You’re not gonna break me, I promise.”

So he plunges into you a bit harder, a bit deeper and you gasp, “Harder.”

He obeys and angles himself above you, watching your face as he pushes into you with the right amount of force. You moan, your eyes rolling back and your head along with it, “Oh, fuck, yes. Like that.”

“Yeah?” he repeats the movement, his moan blending in with yours.

“Yes,” you nod. “Yes. Yes. Just,” you reach down and start rubbing your clit. “Fuck, keep going.”

And he does. He focuses on keeping his rhythm, slow, but intense, the bed squeaking everytime he moves his hips into yours. You gasp against his lips, wrap your arm around his waist, your hooded eyes focused on his. He runs his hand over your hair, whimpering to you, melting into you, and taking short breaks to keep himself from finishing too soon.

Your fingers get cramped and soaked from the incessant rubbing on your clit but it’s like you can’t stop. Spencer leans in to kiss your neck, his hand absentmindedly running up your ribs and gripping your breast. You hold onto his hair and groan into his ear, his low and breathy moans vibrating against your skin.

“F-fuck!” you cry out as he slams into you. “I’m gonna come, don’t stop. Fuck, please don’t stop.”

But he does, only for a moment because the dirty combination of your voice and your hand tugging his hair and your pussy tightening around him, he’s dangerously close to bringing this entire thing to a premature end. So, he pauses. He takes a breath and he pounds into you. Even slower, over and over and over, watching your face closely, watching you fall apart.

“Oh,” you whine, your fingers quickening on your clit. “God, Spencer,” you moan and then body trembles, tensing up underneath him as you come so hard that you lose your voice. He grunts, falling into a sloppy kiss with you and following right behind you, his body suddenly going weak as he comes, his entire weight placed upon you.

Spencer collapses beside you and instantly pulls you into his chest, squeezing you in his arms and peppering your forehead with kisses. “How was that?” he asks, looking down at you. “Was that good for you?”

You touch your fingertip to his chin and smile, nodding, “Oh, yes.”

“Good,” he hugs you. “Good, good, good. For me, too.”

You smile into a long kiss with him and giggle against his lips. Lying there, your breathing falls in sync and you trace the center of his tummy, sink into the bliss.

“They, uh…” Spencer starts. “They remembered my birthday today. That’s why I was late, they threw me a party.”

You glance up at him, but only for a moment and then you put your head back on his chest. “Oh.”

“It was nice,” he shrugs. “It was fun, but the whole time, I just…thought about you. I thought about how angry I was that they’d forgotten at all and how…how you just made everything so much better,” and he tilts your head up to say this next part directly to you, “You always make everything so much better.”

And as you stare into his eyes, the corners of your mouth turned up ever so sightly, your eyes start to water and your lip starts to quiver.

“Oh,” he softens. “Oh, no. Nooo. Are you crying?”

“No,” you shake your head. Then you put your face in your hands and nod, suddenly sobbing.

“Oh, no, no, [y/n], no, I’m sorry. Did I say something?”

You shake your head.

“What is it? What-what just happened?”

“I-I-I-“ you stutter. Lifting your head from your hands, you cry, “I-I just wish I could tell my friends about you.”

He frowns and takes you into a tight hug, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head, “I’m so sorry,” he whispers to you. “Oh, [y/n], I’m so sorry.”

And because he’s never really seen you cry before, his only thought is to ask, “Do you-do you want me to go down on you again?”

You look up at him, your lip poked out in a dramatic pout and you nod.

“Okay,” he says, climbing on top of you and wiping the tears from your face. “I can do that for you.”

It works. It leads to more sex. The two of you don’t go to bed until the sun has nearly risen and don’t get up until well in the afternoon. Spencer thinks you’re using his dick as a distraction and you fear there’s no respectful way to say: I just can’t get enough. He gives you a few days and nights worth of it and still, it’s not enough.

He’s actively trying to get inside of you when he gets called into work. He’s on top of you, between your legs, pushing his tongue into your mouth when his phone goes off. He pulls away to check it and you whine, “Nooo, noooo, don’t goooo.”

“I have to. People are dying,” and as he speaks, you kiss his neck, touch your tongue to his jaw and he moans, “Oh, god,” before he can stop himself. “[y/n]….”

“Just-stay. Stay. They can save one day without you, can’t they?”

“Actually, I don’t think they can.”

“Ugh. You and your big, useful brain. I’m sick of it.”

“I’ll be back,” he gives you a kiss.

“Nooo, stay,” you hold him tight so he can’t move and he busts out laughing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry.”

So he showers and gets dressed and you sit on the bed pouting the entire time. He comes out of the bathroom and frowns, matching your pissy and childish expression.

“I will be back,” he tells you as he takes a seat on the bed. “I always come back.”

“I know, I know, I’m just being dramatic. Let me be dramatic.”

“Okay,” he chuckles and gives you a kiss. Nuzzling his nose against yours, he whispers, “You should call your friends.”

You instantly recoil and he puts his hands on your shoulders, “Okay, okay, I know. I know. But I think it’s time. You need them. They need you. You’re an easy girl to miss.”

You roll your eyes and he sighs, kisses your forehead and squeezes you in a hug. “Call them,” he says and then he leaves.

You sit there for a moment, ponder on his words. Ponder on the entirety of the past few days, past few months. You pick up your phone. You stare at it in your palm. You dial your friend’s number and though you don’t expect an answer, she picks up with a, “Hello?”

You take a deep breath, “Hey…”

When Spencer arrives at work, he finds himself heading up the elevator with Morgan who is so completely and totally normal that Spencer thinks he can smell the sex on him. He watches Derek from the corner of his eyes, fidgeting with the strap of his satchel and shuffling on his feet.

Suddenly, Derek smashes the emergency button on the elevator and brings it to a halt. Spencer falls back and grabs onto the wall.

“Why-why-why did you do that?” Spencer stutters, his pulse starting to rise. “Why did you do that? You remember what happened the last time you messed around with the elevator? Turn it back on.”

“Not until,” Derek says, turning to him. “You tell me whatever it is that you’re dying to tell me.”

“I’m…I’m not dying to tell you anything. I’m just scared of dying.”

“Pretty boy. I step in the elevator, you start sweating. I act like I don’t notice, you’re giving me the side eye up four floors. What’s up?”

Spencer closes his eyes and shakes his head. Then he stands up straight. Then he falls back again.

“Kid?”

“I’m…” Spencer starts. But he can’t finish. “I’m…” He thinks he doesn’t know what to say. Key word: thinks. But there’s only one sentence swirling around his brain and he has to say it, but he doesn’t want to say it and so he bites his tongue. He shakes his head and then looks up at Derek, “I’m having sex!”

And he says it with such a whiny voice that Derek can’t help but laugh. Visibily.

“I knew it,” Derek says. “You’re shaking in your converse to tell me that?”

“What? What do you mean you knew it?” The response sobers Spencer up a bit, his anxiety weakens just enough so he can figure out why Derek is laughing.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you walkin’ on in here everyday with a lil’ extra pep in ya step,” Derek chuckles. “You’re not that sneaky, kid. I knew there had to be someone.”

Spencer sighs, lets his shoulders relax. “It’s-it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just…sex…lots of sex. Lots of really, really good sex. I think. I think it’s good. It…feels good, seems good. I don’t have much to compare it to but, um…yeah…”

“My man,” Derek laughs and Spencer breaks a smile. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Spencer smiles wider, “[y/n]. She’s gorgeous and smells good and makes me laugh and I…don’t feel weird around her she makes me feel so unbelievably not weird and y-yeah, she’s a little bit younger but I hardly ever notice.”

Derek puts the elevator back in motion, “How young are we talkin’ here?”

“Um, she’s twenty-two.”

Derek replies with nothing more than a whistle and Spencer rolls his eyes, “Stop.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You said plenty.”

The elevator dings and they step off, Derek swinging his arm over Spencer’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, pretty boy, we’ll get you back to your lady soon.”

And Spencer laughs it off but in his head, he’s thinking: yes, please.

It’s the first week out of town that Derek is suspicious every time Spencer checks his phone. When the case starts to get heavier and harder, Spencer missing a few of his nightly phone calls, you worry. You can’t help it. He texts you when he lands and it’s stupid how wide you smile.

Library? he texts.

Y: Literally on my way.

You approach each other at the front doors, and from far away, you can see the bags under his eyes and the hunch in his shoulders.

“Hey, you,” you cradle his face in your palm. “Tough week?”

He leans into your touch, nodding and closing his eyes to take a moment and reset. When he opens them to find your face, illuminated by the light, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss. You giggle against his lips and your leg lifts behind you, almost uncontrollably.

You smile at each other and Spencer asks, “Do you like coffee?”

You cackle, “I love coffee.”

He holds the door open for you, asking, “Hey, what do you think about meeting some friends of mine?”

You smile, turn to him, “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

#mine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reidxreader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #Spotify

[sofs16]

let you break my heart again — 3

series link ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ @1655clean @uuzhanggggggg @cmleitora @annie115 @valntynebaby @mrosales16 @d3kstar @stopeatread

charles couldn’t believe it. oxford.

he obviously knew she wanted to be a writer or journalist but oxford? he felt a pang in his chest when it dawned on him, he really hadn’t been updated with her.

every time he was out with her, she would ask any updates on him.

he opens the letter, against his better judgement, and feels proud.

“I am glad to inform you that the department of english has provisionally agreed to admit you” he whispers the words to himself, glancing at her house.

he runs inside his house to seal the envelope again and slips it under her door with a small smile.

over the course of 3 months, charles, again, has a new girlfriend. yn hasn’t told anyone but her family about oxford. though to others, something has shifted in her. charles thinks it’s because her she can stop worrying about not getting into college.

it’s a warm summer night when the yln’s and leclerc’s are all gathered. yn tells the leclerc’s she’s going to leave soon, except charles, who is no where to be found until he enters the house with his girlfriend on his arm.

this had never happened; charles introducing a girl to his family

they all looked at each other

“ah! everyone, meet my girlfriend, cindy” charles shuts the door as the brunette girl with red lips smiles, introducing herself to her and his family.

yn’s stomach sinks, her breathing slows down, and she inhales sharply. cindy was jaw droppingly gorgeous and seemingly sweet.

“you must be yn, charles’ best friend!” she reaches yn at the end of the table and offers her a hug, yn awkwardly accepts. a bit of putting alcohol on the wound.

she sits back down for a while, staring at her empty plate while lorenzo and kylie make eye contact.

“excuse me” she pushes her chair and goes to the kitchen, stumbling into the dark pantry, and she shuts the door

she grips on one of the shelves to steady herself before she covers her mouth, tears falling helplessly on her new sundress.

she shakes as silent sobs escape her mouth and the pantry door opens. she winces as she looks up to see lorenzo switching the light on. he looks behind him to see charles smiling with his family and cindy before lorenzo embraces yn. no words are exchanged, but a quiet understanding.

they pull away and she tiptoes out the backdoor to make her way back to her room. she wipes her tears, glancing at the mirror for a second before retouching her makeup. eventually she makes it back to the table hearing about charles’ girlfriend and her accomplishments.

she folds her arm and clutches the other as she feels her eyes wander towards charles’ light touches on cindy.

yn’s lips remained still that night, muttering a few words here and there.

and just like that september night, charles makes his way to her room a little past midnight.

“what is your problem with her?” he barges in “who?” “cindy!” “what did i do to her, charles” she scoffs “she was nice and you just left!” “nothing is wrong with her, charles. she’s kind”

“arrête de mentir! stop lying!” he raises his voice “Je mens pas! iQu'est ce qui te ferais penser ça? !i’m not lying! what would make you think that?!”

“because you are hiding things from me!” “comme quoi, charles! like what!” how dare he accu-

“Comme quand tu as déposé une candidature à Oxford et que tu as été prise. like how you applied to oxford and got in” the silence was too loud for both of them. “Je pensais qu'on était meilleurs amis et qu'on se disait tout. I thought we were best friends and we tell each other everything” he adds

“i am sorry for not telling you, but that’s just it, charles! I will always be the best friend and i know it won’t change but i’m sick and tired of being here when i don’t even see my purpose here anymore!”

“why would you want to change being best frien- oh”

“do you know how it felt to be there? too in love with you whilst you introduced ‘the girl you will marry’ to your family, whom i consider my own?” the tears were starting to fall down her face

“it hurts charles knowing that you will never see me the same way i see you. and i can’t even blame you because it’s not your fault!

somewhere in between our friendship i fell in love with you and it’s my fault that i couldn’t control it”

her heart was bursting with pain and relief.

charles stood there frozen. how was he supposed to act to his best friend being in love with him? it was not even a little crush. charles would always admit that she was pretty, charming, smart, hardworking, respectful, maybe a little blunt and stubborn sometimes, but he did not think of her in that way.

he felt the unsettling need to run away and take a moment to absorb everything, yn could clearly see that.

“you don’t need to say anything, you can go” she whispered and he nodded. for the first time, he shut the door without looking back, staring at the stair case. on the other side of the door, yn already felt warm liquid flowing down her face uncontrollably. she promised this would be the last time she would cry over a man.

Enzo Lec.

Hi, Yn. How are you holding up? 🙂

Yn

Hi, Enzo:) As good as I can be? I’m not really sure… How is he?

Enzo Lec.

Quiet and different. When are you leaving?

Yn

Next week I’m not entirely confident I can say bye to him

Enzo Lec.

You can’t just leave without saying bye, Yn. What happens when you come back?

Yn

You and I both know I’m not coming back, Enzo🫤 And besides, he’ll probably be in F2 or F1 by then, traveling more

Enzo Lec.

Just because he doesn’t love you the way you do yet doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you

Yn

That’s the part that hurts the most

Sorry but I don’t really want to talk about it anymore

Enzo Lec.

Alright, but at least try to say bye, okay? And to me and the others 😅

Yn

Of course Aren’t you dropping me off the airport?

Enzo Lec.

I was just double checking 🤪

Yn

Haaaa Haaaa Very funny *gets stranded in house with no ride* [ Enzo Lec reacted with 🤣] Night enzo, thanks:)

Enzo Lec.

Good night, Yn:) We’re all proud of you

[ Yn reacted with ❤️]

the week was met with silence between the two. everyone knew yn was leaving.

pascale, the first to show up in her room and help her pack while chatting. arthur, to come over her room and steal things she didn’t need. hervé, to wish her a good luck in her new chapter. lorenzo, to maybe get her to talk to charles. but charles never came.

it was the day before she left when she knew they weren’t going to see each other. she took matters i to her own hands and started writing.

one thing about yn was she wasn’t the best at verbally communicating. but writing down letters was much easier to her.

lorenzo had driven yn to the nice airport with pascale. charles’ location unknown, and her family was busy supporting kylie with her booming business.

she wanted it like this though, a quiet send off with people she considered her family.

her things were all out of the car and hugs were exchanged. she bit her lip before pulling out a scarlet envelope from her handbag. “see to it he gets it, okay?” yn hands it to lorenzo as he nods with a smile.

charles arrives home and his heart speeds as he sees the whole y/l/n household in pitch black.

he rushes inside his home to a quiet dinner. he makes his way to the table “where is she?” he runs his hand though his hair. lorenzo hands him the envelope.

“she’s gone?” he whispers as he looks at the envelope and they all look at each other

he walks outside, glancing at the empty house beside him. he lets his fingers glide over the ink ‘charles’ outside the envelope before opening it.

dearest charles,

i’m sorry about the way we left things, i really am. even more so that i could not bring myself to talk to you face to face.

but tomorrow i leave for london (today if you’ve read it as i planned). you’ve probably already heard that but for my peace of mind, i am writing you this letter.

you are extraordinary. every part of you is special charles, on and off track. all your kindness, thoughtfulness, talent, determination, patience, love, and more. i hope you never lose that in you.

this setback will never mean i won’t support you from a far; because i will. i heard you got into the drivers academy and i am so so proud of you. i never doubted you. i’m sorry i wasn’t there to celebrate with you.

i know things will never be the same as they were and for that, i am sorry. but i’ll never be sorry for loving you the way i did even if i, or we, ended up in pain; loving you is never a mistake. never let anyone make you think that.

it hurt too much to see you with other girls and quarrel over it and i promised myself i wouldn’t cry over you again. if i saw you with cindy again, i’d be breaking that promise.

maybe not my place to say but please don’t let girls get in your current relationship’s way:) there’s so much more left unsaid but i think this is enough for now. i wish you always the best. i wish you the happiness and success you deserve. don’t let anything define you but yourself

love,

yn

he lets out the breath he was holding once he finishes it. his lips quiver and his eyes gloss as he walks back inside the house. they all look at him.

“she is gone?” he whispers again and lorenzo nods. as it sinks in, his head starts to nod softly and he looks down at the letter. drops of tears falling onto the cream envelope.

“i think she was the one. the one even if i can not realize it now” he licks his lips and places his hand under his chin.

pascale stands up and embraces him, leading him to his room. “let‘s get you resting, hm?” charles mumbles something and he falls asleep that night, holding that letter, gripping onto every word.

he has to make it in f1, for you.

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classmate1 AAA CONGRATS YN!!🤍🤍

pascale_leclerc 😍😍❤️

lorenzotl Oxford is lucky to have you!

kylie_yln 🥹❤️

charles_leclerc Congrats, yn! :)

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Charlie ❤️

Hello, Y/n/n :) I received your letter… I made a big mistake letting you go. I am stupid for realizing it too late. Can I call you?

[ Yn did not receive this message.]

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